#i miss my old house where i could sit on the kitchen counter

[pedrospatch]

baby, i’m yours

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

main masterlist l fic notifs

Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.

“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.

“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”

“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.

Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.

He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.

Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.

Baby, I'm yours

and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky

yours until the rivers all run dry

in other words, until I die

He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.

Joel wants to be annoyed. 

Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.

You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.

Baby, I’m yours

and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines

yours until the poets run out of rhyme

in other words, until the end of time

Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.

Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.

Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.

Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.

“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”

Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.

Fucking Christ. 

You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?

Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.

For being so, so fucking good for him.

He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 

You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.

He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.

Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?

He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.

You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.

The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.

“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”

Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.

Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”

“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”

Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.

“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.

Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.

Could it be that you’re actually content with him?

Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 

“I’m gonna stay right here by your side

do my best to keep you satisfied

nothing in this world can drive me away

‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”

It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”

Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.

“Because I don’t want anyone else.”

“You deserve better.”

You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”

“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”

“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”

Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”

His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.

“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”

His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”

You sigh.

“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.

You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”

“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”

Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.

It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.

Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.

After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”

“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”

It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.

He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.

Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.

“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”

You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”

You say it over and over again and he believes it.

He finally fucking believes it.

Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.

“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.

“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”

Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

Joel grins. “And your point is?”

You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.

[goldengleams]

🫧 Can you write #15 with Quinn Hughes? Thank you!! :)

the proposal - q. hughes

A/N: Once again, college has been so busy that I haven’t had any time to post 😭 Hope you enjoy this, it’s more of a real imagine than a blurb to make up for the long wait! Love you guys :))

You woke up to the summer breeze rustling through your curtains. Your afternoon nap had replenished your energy from your morning out on the boat with Quinn. You had arrived at Quinn and Jack’s lake house just a few days earlier, and Jack had arrived last night. Now, you were waiting on Luke to get in this evening to round out your little group.

You stretched out to find the bed empty, but your hand brushed a piece of paper on Quinn’s side of the bed. To Y/N, it said. You blearily picked it up and read the message inside.

Pick you up for dinner at 6. Dress fancy :)

Love,

Quinn

You giggled at the note, at how adorable it was. You and Quinn were literally staying at the same house but his little plan made you smile. This summer would mark the fourth year that you and Quinn had been together and the first since you two had moved in together. You couldn’t imagine doing life without him anymore.

You picked out a light green slip dress from your closet, one of Quinn’s favorites on you. With the two hours you had left, you put on some makeup and did your hair. You loved that Quinn always made spending time with you a priority in your relationship, even when you had gone on just about every date imaginable.

You walked downstairs at 5:45, not sure what to expect. Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter, scrolling on his phone. He looked up immediately when he heard your heels clicking on the floor, grinning at you like a five year old with a secret.

“Why are you smiling at me like that, Jack?” You chuckled, a little suspicious.

“No reason!” Jack said quickly. “But Quinn will be here soon, he just texted me.”

You nodded and pulled out your phone to check. Quinn had also sent you a message that you had missed.

From: quinn❤️

On my way, see you in a few

You said goodbye to Jack and went to wait outside for Quinn. Before you left for Michigan, you had gotten your nails done and made sure to pack some of your favorite outfits just in case a special night like tonight happened. You raised your left hand and your various rings shone in the light, but your ring finger still remained bare. You let out a sigh, trying not to get your hopes up in case tonight wasn’t the night. After four years together, you knew Quinn was the one, you just had to wait for the big moment now.

Quinn pulling up drew you from your thoughts a few moments later. He honked the horn of the beautiful cream colored vintage convertible he had rented for the night. He hopped out and came to walk you to the car, giving you a quick kiss.

“There’s my gorgeous date for the night,” he said proudly. His comment made your cheeks heat up and you marveled at the way he could still make you blush, even after knowing him for years.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, especially in this fancy car,” you said as he opened your car door for you. Quinn had always been a gentleman to you, it was one of the things you loved most about him. He never failed to make you feel special.

“So, where does this mystery date take place, Captain Hughes?”

Quinn just shook his head as he drove. His hair was blowing softly in the breeze and the summer sun highlighted his features beautifully. You were so gone for this man.

“Can’t spoil the surprise just yet, babe.”

Twenty minutes later, Quinn pulled up to a small restaurant right on the lake. He led you inside and the hostess quickly brought you to a table in a small gazebo, right near the water.

Quinn quickly pulled out your chair for you to sit in and you giggled at his actions. He had always been chivalrous, opening doors for you, pulling out your seat. It was something you had never experienced from guys before Quinn and now you hoped you’d never have to live without it.

You reached for his hand across the table once he sat down, yearning for his touch. His hand found yours and he smiled.

“Hi babe,” he said quietly. It was only the two of you for a good twenty feet, so you couldn’t hear anyone else’s conversations, and you doubt they could hear yours, but leave it to your Quinn to still be soft spoken and sweet.

“Hi Quinny,” you said shyly. “Can’t believe you got a spot here for dinner.”

Quinn knew this restaurant was one of your favorites. It was the place three years ago where he asked you to be his girlfriend. You had an inkling that he had an important question for you tonight.

“Yeah, just wanted to bring you back to where it all started,” he said. “Remember when I asked you do be my girlfriend? I was so nervous that day.”

You could tell he was nervous again and almost started to tease him about, but a waiter came up before you could ask. The meal got underway and you didn’t get to bring it up again. The two of you talked about anything and everything, just like you always did.

Quinn had checked his phone a few times during dinner, typing away on his screen before returning to the conversation.

“Something important on there, babe?” You asked.

“Uh, just some texts about hockey stuff,” he smiled back nervously. You knew he was always busy with captain duties, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t actually texting anyone about hockey. Regardless, you nodded and finished your dinner, which was absolutely delicious as always.

The sun had started to paint the sky hues of pink and purple and you smiled at the beautiful view of the sunset over the lake. This could be the night that you become Quinn’s fiancée. The thoughts swarmed your mind and sent tears to your eyes. You loved Quinn so much, you just didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Y/N?” Quinn drew you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You tried not to act like you were totally distracted, but it wasn’t easy. Quinn titled his head like a confused puppy.

“You alright? You looked sad,” he said.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about us,” you said, smiling at him. “I’m the luckiest girl ever.”

“Well, I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

You could tell Quinn got a little startled at your words and how close you were to tears. He thought you had figured him out. He ate the last few bites on his plate as you did the same, and asked if you wanted to go down by the restaurant’s dock with him.

“Sure, but can I run to the bathroom first?” You asked, and he stood up quickly to pull your chair out for you so you could go inside.

“Uh, sure! I mean, yeah, of course, I will just wait here,” he said, tripping over his words.

He watched as you started to walk away from the gazebo and towards the main building and he hastily pulled out his phone. Clicking Jack’s number, he prayed his younger brother would answer in time.

“Yo,” Jack answered.

“Get back in the car or hide or something! She’s coming into the restaurant right now!”

Quinn heard a few curses and some bottles clinking as he assumed Jack and Luke were trying to get up from the bar or a table and get out of the restaurant.

“She’s going in the door near the ramp, so don’t go that way or she’ll see you.”

“We’re not, we’re outside on the patio,” Jack snapped. “You’re bossy when you’re nervous.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. He could make out two tall figures over on the patio deck who were waving at him. Jack had gone to pick Luke up from the airport and they both made their way to the restaurant, along with a photographer, to see their brother propose.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just,” but Quinn didn’t have an answer. Truthfully, he was nervous. He knew he had waited quite a while to propose, not ever doubting your relationship, but just waiting for the right moment. Quinn knew there were plenty of moments in Vancouver where he could’ve pulled out the ring he had picked out for you last year, but none of them seemed right. He wanted to propose to you at the spot where you became his girlfriend, with the beautiful lake and sunset in the background.

“Yeah, exactly,” Jack and Luke chuckled. “We’ve got the photographer waiting, she’s also excited. You got this, okay? She’s gonna say yes, she loves you, Quinn.”

Jack’s words calmed him down a little, and before he knew it, you were walking out of the restaurant. He quickly dropped the call and watched your dress shine in the evening sun. He couldn’t believe you would be his fiancée tonight.

Quinn stood to greet you, reaching for your hand, which you accepted.

“Look at how sweet they are, Quinn,” You passed by a few tables with some older couples, and your heart swelled in your chest. You hoped that would be you and Quinn someday.

Quinn just squeezed your hand, not able to say anything due to the lump in his throat.

“I hope that will be us someday, coming to the lake house and spending summers together.”

Quinn nodded and led you up the ramp, letting you go first so he could locate the photographer who gave him a small wave and thumbs up to indicate she was ready.

“Oh my god, Quinn, look at the sunset!” You walked to the edge of the dock, gazing out into the sky. You were so enamored that you didn’t realize that there were fairy lights adorning the wooden posts on the dock, which weren’t usually there. They twinkled in the waning light, and Quinn wished he was able to see how they lit up your face.

He kept a little distance between the two of you, standing to the side, just like him and the photographer had practiced the day before. Quinn reached into his pocket to grab the little velvet box. He quietly knelt down to your left side as you turned to the right and waited for his moment.

“Oh shoot, I think I left my phone at the table so I can’t take a-,” you said, turning to your left where you had felt Quinn’s presence. Unsurprisingly, he was there, since you could always tell where he was, but shockingly, he was down on one knee, staring at you.

“Quinn,” you said breathlessly, your hand coming to cover your gaping mouth.

“Y/N, I knew from the moment I met you that it was love at first sight. I knew that you were special, and that I would be lucky enough just to be your friend and have you in my life,” he said shakily. “I never thought a girl as beautiful and intelligent and perfect as you would ever walk into my life, but I’ve been so lucky to call you mine ever since.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes at this point. You had hoped for this moment for years, and there was no stopping the emotions now.

“I’m so grateful that you support me in my dreams and my job and I’m the proudest guy on the ice every time I know you’re up in the stands cheering me on. I could’ve never made it to where I am without you in my life, and I hope you know how much you mean to me,” Quinn said, getting choked up. “You complete my family, my life, and myself in a way that I didn’t think was possible, and I don’t ever want to do life without you.”

“I know I waited a long time to ask you this question, but I hope you know I just wanted everything to be perfect. And I thought asking you here, where it all began, was as perfect as it gets,” he said, opening the small box in his hands.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” Quinn could barely get the words out of his mouth before you were nodding enthusiastically, your whole body shaking.

“Yes, Quinn, yes,” you said urgently. He chuckled nervously and placed the beautiful ring on your left ring finger. You had never put on a piece of jewelry that felt more right.

You pulled Quinn up to kiss him, and finally registered the clicks of the camera and the cheers coming from the restaurant, led by a pair of brothers you knew all too well.

“I knew you were planning something,” you giggled against his lips. “I love you so much Quinn.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Can’t wait to call you Mrs. Hughes someday.”

——————————

A/N: After seeing Jack and his gf this weekend, we all need some Quinn and Luke to heal😭😭😭 Hope you enjoyed this!!

[thetriumphantpanda]

rainy days | frankie morales

Summary | It has never been your favourite day, but he always knows how to make it better.

Pairing | Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word Count |

Warnings | Mentions of depression and sadness, negative feelings around birthdays, Frankie makes it all better, two idiots truly in love, allusions to smut but nothing explicit.

Authors Note | To my darling Jo, @undercoverpena - whilst this is my entry to your birthday celebration (I got the colour old rose, apologies for the tenuous link to brief you're about to read), it is also my love letter to you. To the woman you are. To the friend you have become. A love letter to the fact that you can be soft and emotional and have flaws and still be worthy of all the love in the world. Because you are. I have said it many times in recent days, but it is the truth, that I love you unconditionally and I am forever grateful for your friendship and love. I am here for you. I see you. I understand you. And I love you. Happy Birthday darling woman.

He knows it isn’t your favourite day of the year. One that is usually meant to bring joy and happiness and love is instead one that fills you with dread. Worried people would forget, having to force a smile at gifts that show that they really don’t know you at all.

He knows not to push it either. He’s good at that. Knowing the battles to pick and those to leave. You suppose that’s why you love him so much. The way he’s comfortable to sit in your hurt with you, not immediately jumping into fixing it, because it’s been years and you don’t think he could truly unravel everything behind the feelings. But he’s there, with a strong arm around you and a kiss to your forehead. It doesn’t need words, just his presence to say I’m here, I see you and I love you regardless.

It rains, because of course it does, weather to match mood, drowning out any hopes of the walk he’d promised. You distract yourself, cleaning mainly, even though the kitchen counters are spotless and the vacuum has been used more times in the past week than it has in the previous two years since you bought it. Distraction mainly, but now, with nothing to do, you sit. Listen to the fat raindrops and odd rumble of thunder. You reread the same four pages of your book, hopelessly trying to stop checking your phone for missed calls or messages of glad tidings.

The doorbell rings, startling you. Clad in a big jumper, leggings and socks, hair scraped back, you open the door, roar of rain rushing in, to find him standing there. Your man. Your Frankie. He’s soaked to the bone, t-shirt wet and cap dripping, but he’s smiling, both hands behind his back.

“You’ll catch your death, Morales,” you chastise lightly, moving aside for him to step into the warmth of your house, but he makes no effort to move, “Are you coming in?”

It almost makes you laugh when he starts talking, like a scene from the old romcoms you used to watch, but you let him do it anyway. His right hand moves first, a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a dusty rose colour, which he hands to you. They remind you of the paint swatches, the way he’d patiently waited at the store for you to pick it. And then painted eleven swatches on the living room wall until you settled on one. Old rose.

“Hermosa,” he breathes, “Feliz cumpleaños.”

He bends, warm lips to your cheek, finally stepping across the threshold into your home, the place he spends more time in than his own home, his other secret revealed in the shape of a basket, woven, with a telltale red and white gingham poking out.

“Damn the rain,” he says, “and damn this misery, I know we can’t have this outside, but I know you hate eating outside anyway.”

He holds the basket up to you, lets you open the top. It’s full to the brim with food, all of your favourite things from your favourite places you’ve been with him in the past year. Pastries from the coffee shop where you had your first date, fruit from the farmer’s market you visit each Sunday, sandwiches from the shop you always stop at when you visit him at work to make sure he’s eating - it’s all there, in black and white, the moments you’ve shared, tiny, edible pieces of his love and care for you, that’s he’s the first person to ever truly see you, to ever truly know you. It makes your eyes water and your nose sniffle.

You press up on tiptoes and gently slant your lips over his, trying to tell him without words how much this means, how much you truly do love him.

You spread a blanket on the floor, unpack the food and sit for hours, eating and talking and kissing, until it goes dark outside. It still rains as he clears up, lightening now illuminating the sky, it rains as he leads you upstairs and undressed you, and thunder cracks along with your gasps and moans when he buries himself inside you.

It eases late, after he’s woken you in the dead of night with his mouth fused to your cunt. Draped across his chest, silence, save for the two of your breathing, you realise that this is all you need. One man who will do the most for you. One man who will continue, day in and day out, that he truly loves you. Maybe it won’t fix the disdain for your birthday, maybe it won’t fix anything else, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he found you and he loves you.

“Muchas gracias,” you whisper softly against his skin, “Te amo, mi amor.”

“Te amo, querida.”

[wileys-russo]

Could you do a blurb of leah Williamson x reader like in the tiktok you posted with the Nike tech. Like bf leah but like even more than before.

tech fleece II l.williamson

"baby?" you heard your girlfriend let herself in as you sung out you were in the kitchen hearing her footsteps make their way toward you.

"hello gorgeous." soft hands grabbed your face from behind, tilting your head back so the blonde could lean over you to place a few sweet kisses on your lips, the last one lingering for a few moments before she pulled away.

"missed you today sexy." her hand smacked your bum with a wink and a sloppy kiss to your cheek before she backed away. "charming as ever darling." you sighed with a shake of your head, dropping the wooden spoon and spinning around. "oh leah." you bit down on your lip at the sight of her.

"what?" she frowned as you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. "the matching tech fleece...babe." you shook your head disapprovingly with a snicker as her scowl deepened.

"what about it!" she repeated, now crossing her arms over her chest. "lets just say if i do this, theres a beautiful twenty six year old woman who i adore." you took a step back and held up your hand, squinting your eyes and using it to cover her body.

"but if i do this...there's a grubby fifteen year old chav blasting grime on the tube and spitting on the ground for no reason." you moved your hand up to cover her face and show off her body instead. "oo or maybe a roadman?"

"a chav or a roadman she says!" leah scoffed in offence as you dropped your hand and grinned. "better than a bin man?" you teased returning to the stove. "i've told you before you can wear a tech fleece hoodie, jacket or joggers separately, but never all together leah, never all together." you remanded, the blonde mocking you under her breath.

"its comfy! you're so nasty to me, its a god given wonder i put up with you." leah huffed, running a hand through her hair and pulling herself up to sit on the counter.

"oh how do you do it leah? laundry always done, house clean and tidy, home cooked meals on the table, cracking banter and fantastic sex. what a horrid life you have to live, my selfless brave hero." you pouted mockingly toward the older girl.

"yes its a real burden i shoulder for the good of my country." leah sighed, patting her chest where normally some sort of football crest would be sat making you roll your eyes at her antics.

"that smells...healthy." leah frowned suspiciously at the stir fry you were making. "you can unclench this is for me, there's chicken and smileys in the oven for you child." you chuckled nodding your head as her face lit up.

"oi i am not a child! i'm actually older by elven and a half months thank you very much." leah scoffed realizing your subtle dig. "you have the culinary pallet of a toddler and now you're dressing like a troubled teenage boy. child!" you pointed the wooden spoon at her accusingly.

"right i'm not putting up with this abuse any longer. i'm going to wipe all this crap off my face, which you have still not complimented! and then i will return and you better have worked on this pissy attitude young lady." leah warned sternly, pointing right back at you as she hopped down from the counter.

"you look beautiful babe, as always." you smiled, moving to hug her tightly and softly kiss her slightly tinted pink lips from the makeup she had on, having spent nearly the entire day out with media committments.

"just change out of this horrid tracksuit while you're up there yeah?" you now smacked her bum with a wink, backing off as she shook her head and strode out of the kitchen toward your shared bedroom.

"nasty little woman." "i will throw your smileys in the bin williamson!" "obviously i meant gorgeous gorgeous woman whom i love and adore!" "you are on thin ice roadman."

~

"what the hell took you so long?" you chuckled as almost an hour later your girlfriend returned downstairs, having been up in your bedroom the entire time doing god knows what. but she had wiped her makeup off and tied her long blonde hair up into a disheveled bun which sat atop her head.

you'd already long finished cooking, having dished up your dinner and left leahs to stay warm in the oven, sat on the sofa eating.

"i was using the toilet." the blonde shrugged, smacking your forehead with her hand as she passed by you and made a beeline for the kitchen. "for forty minutes?" you laughed at her answer, well knowing she'd have just sat on the bed doom scrolling the tiktok feed she claimed not to care about.

"why are you suddenly so interested in my bowel movements you creep?" leah retorted , hissing as she reached for her plate in the oven, touching it for a second before quickly re-thinking her action. "ugh i didn't mean it like that, i don't need to know a bloody thing about your bowel movements thanks mate." you grimaced in disgust, tuning back into the television.

"don't mate me i'm your missus." your head was shoved to the side by her hand as leah collapsed onto the sofa beside you, and you barely had time to lift your bowl up before her feet swung into your lap. "missus? someone's been hanging round katie too much." you teased, both of you quite close with her irish team mate.

"you didn't even change!" you realised, poking accusingly at her tech fleece joggers making her roll her eyes again. "i'm comfy! stop bullying me." the blonde huffed, darting forward to snatch the remove from where it rested on your thigh.

"leah!" you huffed as she switched stations, groaning as of course she'd put on the football, arsenal due to play in their next premier league match.

"i was watching big brother." you tried to grab it back off of her but she raised her arm, taller than you and easily holding it out of your reach as her eyes never left the screen.

"and? you can watch it on catch up tomorrow babe. my boys are playing." leah shrugged, leaving the remote to rest on the top of the sofa as you sent her a withering glare. "i don't want to watch the football." you groaned in frustration, though really you knew you weren't going to win this. your girlfriend bled north london through and through and there wasn't a chance she would miss this game for anything.

"didn't ask, don't care." leah spoke with a mouthful of food making your lip curl in disgust as you smacked her ankles which rested in your lap. "asshole." you grumbled, shoving her feet off you and standing to wash up your empty bowl.

"get me some more?" leah held out her half finished plate, eyes still glued to the tv. "pardon?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow. "get me some more please baby girl." leah flashed you a smile and wiggled her plate as you grabbed it with a roll of your eyes.

"thank you sweets." your girlfriend patted your bum with her spare hand as you gave her back the plate, shooting her a glare as you sat down. "what? you love it." leah grinned, swinging her feet back into your lap.

"babe didn't you just buy new socks?" you frowned at the holes in the bottom of them. "yeah and i'll wear them once these aren't good enough." leah shrugged. "these aren't good enough they're riddled with holes! get rid of them." you chuckled, whining and shoving her away as she moved her feet to teasingly rest on your face.

"leah!" you groaned as she swung her body around and collapsed herself on top of you. "honestly you are such a teenage boy sometimes. lia was right!" you scoffed, struggling to move her off of you as she went limp.

"hey! you know i hate it when the two of you gang up on me." leah pouted, rolling off of you. "then stop giving us a reason to." you rolled your eyes, smacking away her hands which poked and prodded at your face. "relax the face baby, relax the face." the blonde cooed mockingly, stretching your skin with her thumbs.

"you're one to talk! you've already got wrinkles from all that scowling and frowning." you hit back, causing her to scoff in offence and let go of you. "no you can't leave!" you stood to retreat to the bedroom, leah lunging to grab the back of your hoodie.

"i told you i don't want to watch the football leah." you sighed as she adjusted her position, sitting where you had been and pulling your body in between her legs.

"you always sit with me when the boys play, its bad luck if you aren't here baby." leah frowned somewhat adorably, forever superstitious as you sighed again this time in defeat. "let me at least go and get my book." you bargained, her grip on you loosening allowing you to dart to the bedroom and back.

"comfy love?" leah mumbled against your neck, peppering the skin with gentle kisses as your back settled against her front, nodding and propping your book against your knees, leah kissing your cheek a few times before her attention returned to the game.

"again? you are fucking jokin me!" leah later yelled at the tv with a loud groan as arsenal conceded and you couldn't help but chuckle at her passion. "you do know they can't hear you through the telly right baby?" you teased, head tilting back to look up at her in amusement.

"if i'm loud enough they might come on boys!" leah yelled again, thumping her head back against the sofa in frustration. "oh i can't watch this anymore." leah sighed, slender fingers wrapping around your wrists and tugging your hands to cover her face.

"so we can go to bed then?" "absolutely not, they could be on the come back." "leah, my love its 3-1 and there's ten minutes left, face it baby they've lost."

[munsonsmixtapes]

what about Eddie with a sunshine!reader who accidentally ate one of his edibles? So now he has to take care of them?

Thanks so much for your request!

Eddie x sunshine!gender neutral!reader

word count: 1k

cw: reader accidentally eats a cookie that was made with edibles

The house you shared with Eddie was empty when you got through the door. His car wasn’t out in the driveway so you assumed that he had gone to band practice. You had been on complete opposite schedules with him having shows practically every night and you working late nights at the hospital.

Eddie had been nothing but proud of you for going after you wanted. He would brag about his significant other being a nurse to anyone who would listen. He knew how hard you had worked to get where you were and was elated that you had been doing what you had always dreamed about, even if that meant not seeing you as much as he would have liked.

You trudged into the kitchen after a long shift to find something to eat. Your shift had been so busy that you hadn’t had time to eat so now you were ravenous. You noticed a container of chocolate chip cookies. You assumed Eddie had made them and ripped it open, taking one for yourself. You bit into it as you set your bag onto the counter on top of the lid that had a sticky note on top of it that you probably should have read beforehand.

You opened the fridge for something real to eat and your eyes lit up as you saw a pizza that Eddie must have ordered while you had been at work. You pulled out the box and opened it, your eyes getting wide as you noticed that it had your favorite toppings and that not a single slice had been eaten.

That made you realize that he had ordered it just for you and the thoughtful gesture made you tear up. It made you miss him. You hadn’t seen him in a week and your heart ached for him. You really wished he had been there with you.

You took a couple slices from the box then put it on a plate, returning the box to the fridge while you finished the cookie. You noticed that it had a funny taste to it, but you weren’t sure how long they had been sitting there, so you assumed that maybe they were just getting old. It wasn’t like the taste mattered to you that much. You were just hungry.

You ate your cold pizza at the counter in silence. You were so hungry that you had no interest in heating it up nor going over to the couch to find something to watch while you ate. You just needed to have something on your stomach so you could go to sleep.

Your ears perked up at the door opening and you leaned over to see if you could get a glimpse at who it was even though it could have only been one person. You heard Eddie before you saw him, his loud boots tapping against the hardwood flooring as he walked across the house.

“There’s my honey,” his voice rang out and you whipped around. Your faces lit up as you saw one another and you made a beeline for him, your pizza completely abandoned.

You jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and he was quick to catch you, letting out a chuckle at your excitement. You threw your arms around his neck while his wrapped around your waist. You pressed your lips to his in a lingering kiss and he was quick to return it.

“Missed you, honey,” he murmured against your lips.

“Missed you more,” you replied.

“Not possible,” he captured your lips between his once more before burying his face into your neck, breathing in deeply. “You smell so good.”

“I smell like the hospital,” you corrected and Eddie just laughed.

“No, you smell like you,” he pulled back to look at you. “And you smell good.” He carried you into the kitchen and set you down on your feet, but snaked his arm around your waist, not quite wanting to let go of you yet.

He eyed the pizza on the counter and took the slice you had partially eaten and took a huge bite. He didn’t even care that he hadn’t liked any of the toppings, he was just hungry. He had avoided getting dinner on the way home in the hope of seeing you.

“There’s more in the fridge.”

“But this is right here,” he took another bite then held the slice out to you. You bit off a bite and the two of you smiled at each other, enjoying each other’s company, wanting to soak the small amount you were sure you had with each other.

His smile faltered though, when he caught sight of the opened container behind you. His hand slipped from your waist and moved you out of the way. He reached for the container and held it in his hands, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Honey,” he said slowly, trying to keep his cool. “Did you eat a cookie?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and Eddie set the container back down on the counter.

“Shit.” He ran his hands through his hair and turned his back to you, pacing to the other side of the kitchen.

“Eddie,” you called after him, wanting to know the reason why he had been freaking out. It was just a cookie. What was the big deal?

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his back still back to you. Now you were panicking. What was so bad that he hadn’t wanted you eating the cookies?

“Eddie, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

“Y/n, these cookies,” he turned back around to face you, resting his hands on your shoulders. His eyes bored in yours, wanting you to know how serious he was. “They’re special cookies.” You still weren’t getting it, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Special?” Your head tilted to the side.

“Funny cookies.” He changed up his wording so you’d hopefully catch on, but you still weren’t getting it.

“Funny?” He realized that he was going to have to spell it out for you and was hoping that you wouldn’t be mad at him.

“They have edibles in them.” Your eyes widened at his words and you turned to look at them. Now it made sense why you were feeling a little floaty and giggly. You had assumed that it was because of your long week and lack of sleep.

“So that’s why they tasted so weird. Why didn’t you put a note on them? You always do.” Eddie knew that you weren’t as into getting high as much as he was so he always made sure to put little labels on the things that had been laced so you knew exactly what you had been getting yourself into. He had done it to avoid situations just like this one.

He moved over to the other side of you and spotted the edge of the lid under your bag and pulled it out, holding it up for you to read. You stepped closer to get a good look at what he had written and nodded your head at the sticky note that had in fact informed you that he had warned you. It was just an unfortunate accident.

“Eddie, I’m sorry,” you buried your face in your hands in embarrassment.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he shrugged. “Now, c’mon, honey, let’s go to bed.” He picked you up with ease and let you get comfortable while he carried you to your shared bedroom.

He gently laid you onto the bed and was quick to lay next to you, not wanting to leave you alone while you went through your high. You hadn’t experienced it very often, so he knew it would have a bigger effect on you than it would have on him.

He watched you as you let out giggles, checking to make sure that you were okay. You were giggling like a maniac and he actually thought it was quite funny seeing you that way. You were usually pretty giggly sober, you always having something to be happy about, but now you just seemed so carefree, like you didn’t have a single fuck to give.

“Do you wanna change into something more comfortable?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. “Gotta use your words, bub.”

“Take ‘em off,” you held your arms up. Eddie removed your scrub top and then the shirt you had on under it before replacing them with one of his many band t-shirts. He then moved to your pants, taking them off in one quick motion then looked back up at you.

“Do you want new underwear?” He had no idea the last time you changed and wanted to make sure that you were comfortable throughout your high.

“No,” you shook your head. “Changed them at work. Can I wear some of your boxers?”

“Course you can, honey.” He went over to the closet and grabbed the pair of boxers that you usually gravitated towards and put them on, trying his best to be gentle.

He then pressed his lips to your forehead then scooted into the bed next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder and his cheek leaned onto the top of your head. Your legs tangled together and one of your arms rested on his stomach while the other one laid underneath his back. One of his hands rested on top of the one that was on his stomach while the other scratched on top of your head.

“You wanna watch a movie?” He asked, his voice softer than it usually was. “It might help take your mind off how you’re feeling.”

“I know something that will take my mind off how I’m feeling,” you winked and he knew exactly what you were referring to. As much as he wanted to give in and have his way with you, he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it when you weren’t in your head enough to consent.

“Honey, believe me, you have no idea how badly I want to, but I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

“You don’t want to fuck me,” you pouted.

“No,” he shook his head. “I want to fuck you. Like, you have no idea how much, but I can’t do that when you can’t fully consent, honey.”

“Oh.” Even in your high state, you supposed that made sense.

“But trust me, as soon as you’re sober again, we can go to town,” he winked then reached for the remote. He turned on the TV and changed the channel to your favorite show.

You let out a cackle and it startled Eddie in the silence between the two of you. You were laughing so hard that you had completely moved away from him, lying on your back, laughter escaping from your mouth like crazy.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked, leaning over to see what had you in absolute stitches.

“Nothing,” you managed to get out through your giggles.

“Nothing, hm?” He asked, moving some of your hair out of your face.

“I’m just happy,” you replied. “And I-” you paused. “I love you.” Your laughter died out and it gave Eddie a chance to see your blown pupils.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he responded, leaning down to press a short kiss to your lips.

“Now I’m hungry.”

“Alright, sweetie. Let’s go get you a snack.” He picked you up from the bed and carried you to the kitchen to see the kind of snacks you had and did it with a wide smile on his face.

[strnilolo]

“i’ll do it”

summary: just chris sturniolo taking off your makeup after a night out together :)

word count: 650

warnings: use of y/n & n/n (nickname), lots of dialogue, pure fluff, established relationship, chris x reader, lowercase intentional.

an; two posts in one day?? also i will be posting from this account from now on, i sacrificed my old account for this, so be happy haha.

||masterlist coming soon||

coming home for the night, you place your bag onto the couch and sit down to take off your heels. you and chris had been out, without nick and matt, to a small get together with friends.

“i’m so hungry, do you want anything n/n?” chris is in the kitchen rummaging through the cabinets for something to eat.

“im okay, thank you. i had some of the chicken at brodies house.” “im so tired i dont even want to take off my clothes” you groan, falling backwards over the arm of the couch.

“put your legs down goofy, you’re in a dress” nick comes out of his room, pushing your legs back down.

“i didn’t know you were awake” you smile at nick, slowly pushing yourself off the boys’ couch.

“i'm always lurking, y/n. always” nick joked in an odd voice. the boys always seemed to make weird voices when they were excited, must be a triplet thing.

“nick what are you saying, dude, and quit breathing down my neck” chris shoved his brother off, spatula in hand as he flipped the grilled cheese in the pan.

“where were you guys even at? you missed me and matt on instagram live.”

“you know my friend brodie right? she invited me to a little get together but i didn’t really know anyone so i made chris come” you explain, hopping onto the counter next to the stove. chris puts a hand over the hot eye, ensuring you don’t touch it by accident.

“you guys are sickening” nick scoffs, walking out of the kitchen to his room.

“goodnight!” you call jokingly, knowing he really finds the two of you cute.

finishing his dinner, chris taps your leg, silently signaling you to jump down off of the kitchen counter.

“let’s go to bed, i’ll eat in my room” chris begins to walk up the stairs to his room, you following in suit.

entering his room, chris sets the plate down onto his desk. before you sit on the bed yourself, he stops you.

“don’t sit on my bed in your outside clothes, nasty. change first, then you can sleep in my bed.” groaning loudly, you comply. changing into a tank top and halloween pajama pants, you finally are allowed to get into bed next to your boyfriend. however, that’s still not enough for him. just as you start to get comfortable, chris objects, interupting you again.

“WAIT! don’t you have to take off your makeup?” chris eyes you before you place your head on the pillow.

“chris i really don’t want to tonight, please, can we just go to bed” exhausted and fed up with his antics, you fold the blaket over your legs, beginning to get up.

“hold on” you sigh, what more could he possibly want. “i’ll do it” chris pushes your shoulders, sitting you back onto the bed. completely worn out for the day, you allow chris to gather the supplies to remove your makeup himself.

sitting back down next to you, chris opens the micellar water, pouring the contents onto a cotton round you kept in his bathroom. you jerk back, the temperature taking you by surprise, as he begins at your cheek bones, wiping the cotton round over your face. chris lightly grabs your chin, turning your face towards him so that he can continue his work.

“thank you” you whisper as he finishes taking off your mascara, lightly kissing his cheek.

“anything to keep you from getting makeup all over my pillows” he smirks, putting the makeup remover onto the bedside table, and the cotton rounds into the trash.

“oh whatever, you were being nice to me, admit it” you scoff, waiting for him to come back to bed before you get comfortable.

“never” he smiles, placing a kiss onto your hairline before getting into bed and finally allowing the two of you to rest.

|| likes, comments, & reblogs are always appreciated :)

🏷️ @bananabread-nana ||

[harrywavycurly]

omg if your killer!Eddie requests are open, could you write one similar to 'how long?' where r stays up late when he goes out for you know what and when he comes back, he's kinda shocked to see her up and she asks what's going on?? he'll probably find some sneaky way out of it but I'm wondering what you think ab the situation :)

Hiii lovey!! Oh I love this because we know Eddie loves being able to look down at his watch and know what his wife is doing so I can imagine the look of pure shock when he comes home late and she’s awake! I hope you enjoy this!!💖

-find all things a Killer’s Love here✨

CW: Eddie is a serial killer, mentions of blood

A/N: I didn’t have it in me to make this angsty so it’s kinda fluffy but still gets the point across that even Eddie with his killer instincts can be taken off guard🙈

Eddie lets out a loud sigh as he takes his keys out of the ignition after he pulls into the garage, he rests his forehead on the steering wheel as he closes his eyes allowing the events of the evening to replay in his mind. James was supposed to be an easy task, it was supposed to be an in and out job but somehow it ended up with Eddie not only digging multiple holes in Hawkins’s oldest cemetery just to dispose of the man’s body but he also had to get rid of his new pair of boots thanks to the fact James was a bleeder, another thing Eddie wasn’t really prepared for. When he opens his eyes he smiles as he looks down at his watch and sees the time, it’s well past midnight so Eddie knows you’re snuggled up in bed asleep waiting for him. He quickly grabs his duffle bag and tries to be as quiet as possible when he goes into the house, taking his old beat up boots off by the door.

“Eddie?” He freezes when he hears your sweet soft voice coming from the kitchen. “Honey is that you?” You ask as you poke your head out of the kitchen and into the living room just in time to see him putting his truck keys into the little bowl on the table by the door.

“Did I wake you sweetheart?” He tries to hide the panic in his voice as he slowly uses his foot to slide his duffle bag behind the couch so you can’t see it in the dark living room. “I tried to be quiet.” He adds as he takes a few steps closer to where you’re standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“I haven’t been to bed yet.” Eddie feels his eyebrow raise at your statement because he can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve stayed up this late and most of them involve him and you in your king sized bed. “Why are you all disheveled?” You ask as he finally is just a few steps away from you allowing the kitchen light to let you get a better look at him.

“You know how poker night goes baby.” You just smile as Eddie’s hands land on your hips before he leans in and places a quick kiss to your lips.

“Steve get a bit rowdy again?” You ask when he pulls away, Eddie just nods before placing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Someone needed to teach him some manners.” You laugh as Eddie gives your hips a little squeeze. “Now what’s keeping you up hmm? Something bothering you Princess?” He asks making you just shrug as his hands fall from your hips so you can turn and he can follow you into the kitchen. He looks around and can tell by the bottle of honey and some lemon slices on the counter that you were in the middle of making yourself some tea so he quickly grabs the electric kettle and begins filling it with water as you go sit on one of the barstools.

“I think I just missed my husband.” Eddie smiles as he looks over at you as he turns the kettle on. You return his smile and shoot him a playful wink making him chuckle.

“I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to be out so late.” It’s not a lie so Eddie doesn’t feel that bad for saying it, he had every intention of being home and in bed with you well before midnight but then again tonight hasn’t gone the way Eddie had planned.

“It’s okay you deserve to have a guys night every now and then.” Eddie ignores the guilt that tries to take over as you give him a reassuring smile. He just busies himself with adding some honey to the bottom of one of your favorite mugs before placing the sleepy time tea bag inside.

“I missed you too.” He states as the kettle turns off letting him know the water is ready for him to pour into your mug. You smile as he walks around the island and places the mug in front of you.

“Did you really?” You ask in your sweet shy tone that makes Eddie’s knees go a little bit weak. Eddie just stands behind you and gently places his hands on top of your shoulders as he leans down so his lips are right next to your ear.

“From the moment I left the driveway.” You smile at his words and then feel a chill go down your spine as his lips place a kiss under your ear.

“I love you.” Eddie just smiles as he stands up after kissing your cheek and drops his hands from your shoulders.

“I love you too baby.” He watches you reach for your mug but he’s quick to grab it from over your shoulder making you playfully frown at him. “You’ll burn yourself sweetheart…come on let’s get you into bed and by then it’ll be the perfect for drinking.” You just let out a tired sigh as you get off the barstool and take his free hand so he can lead you into the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Your voice is sleepy and slow as you watch Eddie head for the bedroom door after he got you comfortable on your side of the bed with your tea in your hands.

“Just checking the locks and cleaning the kitchen baby don’t worry I’ll be back before you fall asleep.” Eddie watches you just nod your head and he’s well aware that you know he’s lying because both of you know you’re about two sips of your tea away from passing out but you don’t argue with him and for that he’s grateful.

When he’s in the living room he quietly grabs his duffle bag and takes it into the kitchen so he can shove it back under the sink where he normally keeps it hidden under trash bags and cleaning supplies. He grips the sink as he closes his eyes and lets out a few deep breathes trying to get his nerves to settle because from the moment he left the house early this evening till just now he’s been on edge because nothing has gone as planned. But he also can’t help but chuckle to himself as he opens his eyes and shakes his head at the fact that even after years of marriage you still somehow manage to surprise him.

[your-nanas-house]

Cillian wants to make a sex tape to help him out when he is away from you

Love it, thanks for the request!! 🥰💋

Little fun film

◇ Pairing: Cillian Murphy x wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, sex tape, age gap (both adults), kids, domestic shit

◇ Summary: Cillian is quieter than usual and Y/n can't wait to know what he has in mind.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

As soon as Y/n walked in she could feel that there was something odd, there was a weird mood in the house just like when her lovely husband wanted to ask her something.

She brushed it off, though, focusing on closing the door while still holding four grocery bags— full with food and things for the kids.

Just when she was about to loose her patience and drop the bags to be able to close the door and take off her shoes, big freckled pale hands reached for them, removing the weight from her easily.

Her y/e/c eyes snapped up while her free hands made a quick motion to free her from her shoes and coat

"Thank you, darling" she hummed as her gaze met her husband's.

Cillian offered a soft smile, leaning closer to steal her a kiss before heading to their kitchen to put down the bags

"Hello, darling. How was your day?" He asked in a soft voice, accepting the unexpected hug from behind— her hands rubbed his clothed belly up to his chest while her breath hit the back of his neck

"Tiring, missed my husband" Y/n quickly replied, pecking his pale skin before putting away the things she had bought.

It took her a couple of minutes, a couple of minutes where Cillian just remained leaned against the counter, watching her almost lost in his own thoughts

"You're awfully quite today, honey. What's on your mind?" Y/n asked, interrupting his reflection

"That's because I have something I need to ask you, love— but we'll need to wait for the kids to go to bed though" Cillian revealed, moving closer to his wife to hug her hips and leave a soft peck on her lips.

Y/n's eyes were entirely on him, a soft smile on her face, a very good poker face that hide her true emotions which were pure excitement— she just nodded, kissing his lips again.

Cillian moved closer, brushing his nose against his wife's as he opened his mouth to ask her what they were going to eat, receiving another quick peck and a happy answer from Y/n

"I have an idea don't worry. Just relax and give me affection and love as I cook, pretty please" she begged cutely, smiling softly while moving to the stove.

The "old" actor smirked and walked over to her, putting his hands on her hips for the second time that evening— speaking with a teasing tone

"Is this enough love? Or do you need more, eh?" He asked, moving his body closer to hers as soon as she whispered in a soft voice

"More"

.

It was around 9pm, the kids were asleep and in their beds. Y/n just made sure of it, collecting the empty glasses of warm milk before heading to her own bedroom, stopping in the kitchen to finish a couple of things first.

She walked in the room, just leaning the door, to get ready for bed— Cillian was already there, comfortable clothes on and his book in his hand since he was waiting for her.

"So....my beautiful wife, do you know what I had in mind for you tonight?" He asked, his voice getting lower while he put down the forgotten book on the nightstand to get up and move closer to his wife— ending up in a sitting position at the edge of the bed, since Y/n kept moving around the room to complete her normal routine

"No, sir" she replied playfully, glancing at him with a soft but amused smile, chuckling at his reply

"Good, that's what makes this so great, love, it's a surprise. I told you I wanted to give you something special tonight didn't I?" Cillian hummed, reaching for her, his face burying in her tummy as soon as he got an hold on her hips and moved her closer to him.

"Now close your eyes, baby" he whispered, standing carefully up to connect their lips as soon as she closed her eyes— his hands, which were previously on her hips, now moved slowly up her body, squeezing her clothed skin before reaching the first buttons of her cute nightshirt— unbuttoning them slowly, his lips leaving soft kisses on her exposed skin.

"I want you to know, love, that tonight, you're my number one priority." Cillian whispered against her skin, moving her body down on the mattress of their bed.

Y/n kept her eyes closed, even when Cillian moved away from her to take something, maybe a condom or lube, she didn't know.

She just opened them when the sexy voice of her husband, whispered in her ear to open them, his irish accent more noticable now.

So she did, she opened her eyes and she completely froze in place, seeing him towering over her half naked body with a camera— seeing her state, Cillian just smiled and put his finger on her lips in a "shh" motion, staring at her with his piercing icy eyes, a naughty smirk on his handsome face

"I believe I have what is called, a treat for you tonight, love".

A treat, Y/n repeated in her head, her eyes moving from him to the camera as if she was asking him a silent question which had surprisingly an answer

"The video I'm going to record of us tonight, will be our own little fun film to watch whenever we need some time for ourselves, love— when I'm out of home for weeks or months because of my job and I need you so bad" he kept murmuring, leaving soft pecks on her neck in an attempt to convince her.

Feeling still her insecurity he met her eyes, running his finger in her hair

"I hope you won't mind, darling, it's just for the two of us and no one else" he reassured Y/n, pecking her lips while waiting for her answer

"I don't know— are you sure, Cill?" she quietly asked, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs

"Trust me love, you're absolutely gorgeous and any sane man would do anything for you, you're perfect and you should take pride in that." He kissed her neck softly, hiding his excited smile as he added "But yes, I'm sure love, I'm sure."

And this way the tape started, with Cillian teasing Y/n's body, caressing and nibbling at her skin, focusing on her boobs beyond her neck— showering her with compliments.

With Y/n's mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking and swirling her tongue around it just like he liked and getting face fucked by him just like she liked.

With Cillian's mouth on her clit while his hand worked her folds, thrusting inside of her to prepare her tight pussy for his cock.

With Cillian deep balls inside of Y/n's cunt, thrusting and making love to her like he knew how to, holding her hands as her legs kept hugging his pale hips.

With Y/n bouncing on his lenght, showing off her gourgeous body, her breasts bouncing at each bounce just like they did in the missionary position.

With Cillian having a tight hold on Y/n's hips, as he thrusted in her in an almost animalistic but romantic way, taking advantage of the doggy style position to give and reach pleasure.

Ending with Y/n's pussy being filled up by Cillian, who shoot his load deep inside of her and mover the camera to record how it dripped from there.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 3)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: When Y/n's life is on the line, Rafe knows he has to tell her how he feels.

Warnings: Drugs, language, overdose, withdrawals, sobriety, California sober, using marijuana to help with withdrawals, seizure, addiction

Word Count: 5.7k+

"I haven't heard from him in two days, Court. That's weird, right?" You say into the phone as you pace your living room.

"I mean yeah it is but it's also Rafe." She responded.

"He always texts me back,"

"Look, try not to worry too much. He's probably just dealing with family shit. The Cameron's look well put together but they're not."

You sigh. "Okay, but if I don't hear from him in the morning I'm going over there."

"Deal. Until then, I have a present for you. Be over in 10." Courtney says, hanging up the phone before you can even answer.

You pace around your living room in a pair of panties and one of Rafe's old t-shirts he'd left at your house.

You pulled out your phone again and dialed your dads number. No answer, as usual. You opt to send him a text instead.

When will you be home next? Maybe we could grab dinner? Miss you.

You shut your phone off. Excited for Courtney to get there so you wouldn't be alone anymore. Rafe had dropped you off at your house, promising he'd see you the next day. You haven't heard from him since. You're so used to his presence. Almost dependent on it. Addicted.

You quickly poured out another line and railed it quickly, chasing it down with a shot of tequila. You cringed at the taste but relaxed feeling the substances take hold of your body.

Courtney finally knocked at your door and you were quick to answer it, throwing yourself into her arms.

"Hey," She chuckled as she wrapped her long arms around you. "You okay?"

You pulled back. "Yeah, just...stressed."

"Well stress no more!" She said as she skipped into your house, pulling her small back pack from her shoulders. "I got you something."

"What is it?"

She wiggles her eyebrows knowingly before pulling something from the small side pocket of her back pack. She held up a baggie with two colorful pills inside. "Ecstasy."

Your eyes widen and your lips follow. "No fucking way!"

"Yep! And not just any ecstasy..." She says. You wait impatiently for her reply. "Pink yin-yangs, baby!"

"Fuck, Court! Where did you find these?!"

"Fucked Barry for them," She shrugs. "He only had a couple. Didn't wanna give them up but I worked my fucking witchcraft pussy magic on him." She chuckles.

You run to her and hold her face between your hands, bringing her head down so you can kiss her face all over. "You're my favorite fucking slut!"

"I know," Courtney smiles. She take the pills out of the bag and drops one in your hand. "Cheers bitch!" She smirks.

"Bottoms up!" You said as you both pop the pills in your mouth and chase it with a shot to swallow.

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

You woke up on your kitchen floor next to Courtney. Her feet in your face and yours in hers.

"Fuck," You groaned as you tried to sit up. Courtney stirred next to you.

You heard a knock on your door.

"Who the fuck is that?" Courtney whined. You pulled yourself up on the counter, resting your chin on the marble as you stared at the front door.

"I don't know but I hope they go away." Your head was throbbing.

Another knock at the door. "Y/N!"

You knew that voice. "It's Rafe!" You said excitedly, standing up far too fast as you got dizzy and immediately fell to the floor. "Shit!" You decided to crawl your way to the door. When you finally reached it you leaned against it to get yourself up off the ground.

You finally unlocked the door and swung it open. The bright sun burned your eyes and you quickly shielded them. It took you a moment to adjust before you could clearly see Rafe standing on your porch. A duffle bag in his hand.

"Rafe!" You said excitedly as you stumbled in to him. His body was tense but he relaxed as he breathed in the smell of your shampoo. "Rafe, where the fuck have you been?!" You say as you pull away and push his shoulder.

Rafe looks down to his feet. "My uh...my dad kicked me out." He said, his voice almost breaking.

"Fuck..." You said. "Come in," You grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside.

"AaaahAAAHHH" You hear Courtney scream from the kitchen floor.

"Is everything okay?" Rafe asks.

"Yeah, we just got fucked up last night. I think she's dying." You chuckled.

Courtney finally made her way to her feet. "Hey Rafe," She said as she bent over and laid her skin against the cool countertop.

"Hey Court, you good?" He asked.

"Peachy!" She responded, giving him a thumbs up.

"Rafe, what happened?" You asked. You could see his eyes begin to water so you pulled him to the living room and sat him down on the cushion-less couch.

"Is that my shirt?" He asked as he took in all of you.

You chuckled. "Uh, yeah...I've been worried about you. I wanted to be close to you."

"I'm sorry, Y/N..."

"It's fine, just tell me what happened!"

Rafe sighed. "I tried to take the rest of the money I owed from my dad and he caught me. He fucking, like, disowned me!" He said as he pressed the base of his palms to his eyes and leaned back.

"Rafe," You began. "Why didn't you come to me? I could give you the money. We could go to Barry's right now. I'll pay him."

"No," He shook his head. "My dad paid him."

"Rafe..."

He toppled over into your lap and wrapped his hands around your waist as he sobbed into your stomach. You brought your hand up to rub his back.

"It's okay, Rafe. I promise it's okay. You can stay here as long as you need."

His breathing slowed as you trailed your fingers along his bicep.

"Have you slept?" You ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really."

"Alright, we all need to sleep." You say as you stand up, bringing Rafe with you. "And then tonight, we'll invite Kelce and Top over and Court will make dinner." You smile.

Rafe smiles back at you.

"Court! Get your ass up, we're sleeping in my bed the rest of the day!" You yell.

"Fucking BET!" Court shouts as she runs to you.

You lead Courtney and Rafe upstairs. Courtney collapses on the left side of your bed. You pull the covers over her and climb in beside her, pulling her back against your front and playing with her long blonde locks.

Rafe hesitates.

"Come on," You insist as you reach out your hand to him, once again inviting him to your bed.

He comes over, crawling in on your right side and slipping an arm around your waist.

You felt so comforted between your two best friends. The last thing you felt before you drifted off to sleep was Rafe nuzzling into your hair, earning a smile from you.

___________________

"Wake up bitches!" Courtney screamed as she jumped up and down on your California king.

"Fuck, Court. What time is it?" You asked, rubbing your eyes. You could feel Rafe's arm grip you tighter.

"It's 6pm baby, time to fucking party!" She yelled. She had obviously had a few lines. "Top and Kelce are on their way over."

"Shit, okay." Feeling Rafe's body against yours made you not want to get up from this spot, like, ever. Drugs, alcohol, friends, could all wait. You just didn't want him to let go of you. "We'll be down in a minute, Court."

"Okay you freaky little love birds. Don't forget to wrap it up!" She yells as she leaves the room.

You flip her off.

"Has she always been this annoying?" Rafe mumbles against your shoulder.

"Absolutely. Since we were four." You chuckle.

"I never wanna get up,"

"Me either," You state. "But we can't keep our guests waiting." You say as you sit up.

"Our guests?" He asks.

"I mean yeah. You brought those fuckers into my life," You chuckle. "Plus you live here now."

His eyes sparkle and he smiles up at you. "You sure it's okay if I stay here for a while?"

"Rafe Cameron..." You bring your lips down to his ear. "You have been living here since the night we met."

_____________________

You and Rafe finally made your way downstairs. Kelce and Topper already had music blasting in the living room. You and Courtney sported the same look. Panties and an over-sized tee with messy hair to match. Glitter still on your face as always.

"Help me make dinner!" Courtney yelled to you as she slaved away over the stove.

"You know I can't cook, Court." You sighed.

"I'm gonna teach you!"

Rafe went and joined the guys in the living room.

"So you fucked her yet?" Kelce asked as soon as Rafe sat down.

"Don't be gross," Rafe spat.

"Rafe Cameron calling sex gross?" Topper asked. "That's a statement."

Rafe thought back to the conversation he overheard you and Courtney having. Virgin. The term was not something this island was used to.

"Man if you don't hop on that, I'm gonna shoot my shot." Kelce said.

"Shut the fuck up!" Rafe hissed.

Kelce held his hands up in defense. "Alright, alright! Mr. Whipped."

Rafe ignored him as he watched you and Courtney try to throw pieces of food into eachother's mouths. The way you moved and laughed was absolute art to him.

He liked Courtney. But he really liked the side of you that came out when you were with your best friend. Like nothing else in the world mattered. Pure bliss. And for that, he loved Courtney too. He would never get sick of watching you two dance on eachother and laugh at everything in the fucking world.

"He's drooling again," Topper laughed.

"Shut up, dude. Pour me a shot." Rafe finally said as he snapped out of his trance.

"Dinner's ready boys!" Courtney yelled.

You finished setting your dining room table. The one that hasn't been used since you moved in here.

"This smells fucking amazing," Topper said as he dashed into the room. Kelce and Rafe not far behind him.

Rafe went to the head of the table and pulled your chair out for you.

"Thank you," You smiled at him as you sat down.

"Of course, sweetheart." He said before sitting down next to you.

"Okay!" Courtney clapped her hands together. "We made chicken, green beans, sweet potatoes, and caesar salad."

"It was all Courtney." You said.

"Shut up," She hissed. "You helped and you did amazing."

"It looks amazing," Rafe said as he passed dishes around.

As you all sat and ate you took in the sight before you. Topper and Kelce shirtless. You and Court in your underwear. Rafe in sweats. None of you dressed up for a night at the club. Just happy and enjoying eachothers company. You were finally feeling at home and you couldn't be happier.

After dinner, you all retired to the living room for a horror movie marathon. You rested your head in Courtney's lap while you draped your legs over Rafe's. Topper and Kelce sat on the other couch while they jumped at every scene together.

Courtney ran her fingers through your hair as she laughed at the boys. "You guys are such pussies!"

You felt your phone buzz and you pulled it out of your pocket. It was your dad. Your face lit up as you opened the message.

Be home next week. I'll try to fit dinner in. Just put 10k in your account. Love you.

You frowned at the text. You hadn't seen your dad in weeks and he wasn't even sure if he could make time to have dinner with you.

You sucked on your teeth before you sat up and poured yourself a shot.

"You okay?" Court asks.

"Yeah! Just ready to catch a vibe." You say as you pour out a line of blow. You don't even bother with a bill as you bring your nose to the table and rail it.

Rafe bites his lip as he watches you. He'd always loved your ability to party like the boys but he couldn't help but worry. He could tell when you were having fun and when you were getting fucked up to forget. Rafe studied you daily.

"Y/N, take it easy," Rafe said as you went for your third line. He placed a hand on your shoulder and you shrugged him off.

"I'm feeling fucking perfect." You whispered as you laid back between your two best friends.

You didn't notice your leg shaking until Rafe put his hand on your knee.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He asked.

His voice twirled around in your head and you smiled. You quickly stood up and took a few steps forward.

"Dude, is she good?" You heard the echo of a voice in the background.

You quickly bent over and expelled your dinner all over the living room floor before collapsing. You could feel your body begin to convulse as your vision faded to black.

"Y/N! Courtney yelled, quickly turning you to your side.

"Fuck dude!" Topper yelled as him and Kelce stepped back.

Rafe ran to you and placed your head in his lap as you continued to convulse.

"Start my fucking car!" He yelled to Courtney as he grabbed the keys from his pocket and threw them at her.

Courtney didn't hesitate. Kelce followed after her.

"What do we do?!" Topper yelled as he paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair.

Your body went limp.

"Y/N? Y/N?!" Rafe yelled, slapping your face lightly. He watched as your eyes rolled back in your head.

"Fuck!" Rafe yelled, scooping you into his arms and running to the truck. Topper was right behind him.

Rafe jumped into the back seat and pulled you into his lap. Topper jumped in next to him and Courtney quickly backed out of the driveway and sped off.

"Hurry!" Rafe yelled, his voice cracking. He shoved two fingers down your throat and you vomited instantly but you were still unconscious. "Fuck, Y/N come on! Don't you fucking die on me!" He yelled as he held you sideways in his lap. He forced his fingers down again, adding more vomit to the back of his truck.

"We're here!" Courtney announced. Everyone spilled out of the car. Rafe holding you close to his chest as he ran into the hospital first. Courtney not far behind him.

"Help us!" Courtney yelled. "Our friend, she overdosed!"

Nurses were quickly at their side, pulling you from Rafe's arms and placing you on a gurney. You began to convulse again.

Courtney grabbed your hand and ran along side of you as you were wheeled back. Rafe attempted to follow but the nurses stopped him. "I'm sorry, we can't have you all back there."

Rafe was full on crying now. He fell to his knees. Topper and Kelce tried to grab him and pull him back to the waiting room.

"Come on, dude. She's gonna be okay we just have to wait it out." Kelce assured him.

Dragging Rafe to the waiting room was a challenge as he was bigger than both Topper and Kelce.

Rafe didn't stop pacing for an hour and a half. Constantly asking every nurse that walked by if you were okay. They never had an answer for him.

Finally, Courtney came out to the waiting room.

Rafe ran to her immediately. "Is she okay?!"

Courtney could hardly breathe, anxiety riddled her face, but she quickly nodded. "Yeah, she's going to be okay."

Rafe finally let out the breath he'd been holding in. Topper and Kelce relaxed too.

"It wasn't just the coke," Courtney said as tears filled her eyes. Her fists were clenched by her sides.

The boys looked up at her. "What do you mean, Court?" Kelce asked.

"She, uhhh...she took some pills. Opiates." Courtney choked.

Rafe ran his hands through his hair, gripping the hair on the back of his neck as his legs shook.

"She, uhm.." Courtney started. "She's always had a problem. I thought she quit the pills but, uhm, I guess she just got better at hiding it." Courtney was crying now.

"Can I see her?" Rafe asked as he stood up and approached Courtney.

She nodded. "Uhm, yeah. She's stable. They pumped her stomach. She's really out of it."

Rafe nodded and pulled Courtney into a hug. "Thanks for staying with her." He whispered against her hair.

"We have to help her, Rafe." Courtney sobbed into his shoulder.

"We will." He promised.

He handed Courtney off to Kelce before he headed back to your room.

Rafe shuddered as he walked into the room. Seeing you unconscious and hooked up to a bunch of machines absolutely killed him. How had this night gone so wrong?

Rafe sat in the chair beside your hospital bed and took your hand between his. He placed a kiss on your knuckles before pressing his face into the mattress and sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I said I'd take care of you and I didn't." He choked on his words. "I almost lost you. We all almost lost you. Fuck..."

You stirred slightly.

"Rafe?" You mumbled.

He looked up at you. You were barely able to open your eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart? I'm here. I'm always here." He said as clung to your hand, running his other hand through your hair. Your perfect hair that he could never get enough of.

"What happened?" Your voice was practically a whisper.

"Later," He started. "You need to rest."

"Rafe?"

"Yes?" He asked, choking back tears as he brushed his thumb over your cheekbone.

"Don't leave me," You breathed.

"Never." He promised.

You slipped back into sleep and Rafe never left your side. Constantly at the edge of your bed, watching your chest rise and fall to make sure you were breathing steadily.

He only looked away from you when the doctor came in. He discussed details and options with the doctor. Rehab, medication, the whole nine.

It was another two days before you fully awoke.

She's up!

Rafe texted the group chat. He had sent Courtney and the boys to go watch your house.

On my way!

Courtney responded.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and scanned the room. White walls, monitors, a small television in the corner. Was this a hospital?

"Hey," A familiar voice said. A voice that made you break out in a smile before you even turned to look at him.

"Hey," Your voice was raspy but your smile made up for it.

"Here, have some water." Rafe said as he brought the bottle to your lips and helped you drink.

When you finally laid back you sighed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly.

"I'm sore," You admitted.

Rafe bit his lip, remembering how you had seized in his arms. The memory would haunt him forever.

"What happened?" You finally asked.

Rafe sniffled. "You, uhm...You overdosed."

You trained your eyes on the ceiling. "Hmm."

"Why didn't you tell me you were taking pills?" Rafe asked.

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply. Knowing that the doctors found it all in your system and Courtney probably told them all about your little habit.

"Y/N..."

"Rafe, I don't want to talk about it."

Before he could say anything else, Courtney busted into the room.

"Y/N," she sighed with relief as she ran to hug you.

"Hey bitch," You said as you wrapped a weak arm around her.

Rafe watched as you and Courtney caught up for a moment.

"Uhm, did you call my dad?" You asked hopefully.

Courtney's face fell. "Yeah, I did..." She started. "He hasn't gotten back yet."

You looked down. Not surprised, but still hurt.

"Y/N, we're going to get you help okay?" Courtney said.

Your eyes shot up at her. "What do you mean?"

"I-I found this really good facility-"

"No." You cut her off. "You're not shipping me off to some rehab!" You protested.

"Y/N-"

"Shut up, Rafe!" You said as you held a hand up to him. You turned back to Courtney. "I'm not fucking going."

"Y/N, I can't watch you kill yourself!" Courtney yelled. Earning the attention from the doctor who was on his way in.

"I'm not fucking going to rehab!" You repeated yourself.

"There are other options," The doctor said, trying to calm you down. "If you'd rather detox at home, I can prescribe you something to help with the withdrawals. You're still going to feel like shit," He chuckles. "But it will help."

"Perfect. Let's do that." You said as you crossed your arms.

"Do you have someone that can be at the house with you?" The doctor asks.

"Yes," Courtney and Rafe answered simultaneously.

"Okay," The doctor started. "She's going to need to take this every 8 hours," He said as wrote out a prescription. "She'll need a lot of fluids. She's going to be sick. Shaking, tremors, vomiting, all of it."

"We'll take care of her." Rafe promised.

"Alright. Let me just get some paperwork filled out and you guys can be out of here."

"Thank you." Courtney said.

You sunk down into the bed with a frustrated sigh, refusing to talk.

________________________

You were finally home. Rafe pulled open the passenger door and helped you out. He kept an arm around you as you weakly walked to your front door.

You were still annoyed with him and Courtney for trying to send you to rehab.

Once you were inside, Courtney went to the fridge and grabbed you a few bottles of water. "Let's take her upstairs." She said.

"I can get there on my own," You hissed, pulling out of Rafe's grip and instantly falling to the floor.

"Y/N, no." Rafe said as he picked you up off the floor. He was full on carrying you now.

"Let go of me, Rafe!" You fought against him but got no where in your weak state.

Rafe carried you up to your room and placed you in your bed. Courtney followed him, putting the bottles of water on your nightstand.

You started shivering.

"You need to take your medicine," Courtney demanded as she pulled the pills from her pocket, dumping one out into her palm. "Here," She said, handing it to you and then handing you a bottle of water.

You popped the pill in your mouth and chugged the water. You prayed this would help as you felt the tremors move throughout your body.

Courtney crawled in bed beside you and turned on the tv, looking for your favorite comfort movie. You in your demented head absolutely loved Terrifier. She found it and pressed play. As much as she hated clowns, she'd do anything to make you feel better right now.

You laid in her lap, shivering as you brought the covers up to your nose. The feeling of her playing with your hair calmed you.

"I'm gonna make dinner," Rafe said.

"Something light," Courtney said. Just bring her some saltine crackers and broth. She can't over eat right now."

Rafe nodded his head. Reminding himself that Courtney had seen this multiple times before. As much as he wanted to be the one comforting you right now, he knew he had other duties if him and Courtney were going to be taking care of you for the next few days.

Rafe made his way down to the kitchen and started preparing food. He got what Courtney asked him too but he also heated up leftovers from a few nights prior.

"Courtney," You mumble.

"Yeah?" She asks.

"I don't feel-" You gag. "I don't feel goo-" You cut off abruptly as the contents of your stomach were expelled all over your bed.

"Fuck, okay." Courtney said as she pulled your hair back. The vomiting seemed to never end. "Rafe!" She called out.

Rafe was there in two seconds. "Shit," He said as he saw you vomiting.

"Help me get her to the shower," Courtney said.

Rafe scooped you up effortlessly. Courtney ran to the bathroom and turned on a warm shower. "Get her out of those clothes," Courtney demanded as she stripped out of her own clothing, reducing down to her bra and underwear.

Once you were undressed Rafe placed you in the shower and Courtney got in as well. She laid behind you, leaning your head on her shoulder.

"Is she okay?" Rafe asked, fear raking his voice.

"Yeah, it's just the meds. She's got to get all this out of her body." Courtney assured him.

"Okay, okay," Rafe said as he paced. "What do I do?"

"Can you, uh, wash her sheets?" Courtney asks. "I'm gonna see if I can the rest of it out of her in the shower before we put her back to bed."

"You guys talk about me like I'm not right here." You mumble.

"You know we're always talking shit," Courtney chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"Always running your mouth," You chuckle.

You and Courtney smile against eachother for a minute.

"Hey, Court?" You ask.

"Yes?"

"Can, uhm, can Rafe take your place? I'd just really rather you make my soup. You always make it perfect."

Courtney laughs and looks up to Rafe. "You up for it?"

"Yeah, of course, anything." He responds as he pulls his shirt off.

"Enjoy," Courtney whispers in your ear before standing up and passing you off to Rafe.

You feel your back rest against Rafe's chest and his arms come around your almost naked body, holding you close.

"Hey Rafey," You say with a smile. "Sorry I'm such a mess."

He places a kiss on your forehead. "Never apologize to me. I just want to take care of you."

You no longer felt sick but the meds were definitely making you drowsy. You felt euphoric as the warm water washed over you and your back was pressed against Rafe's skin. You tucked your face into the nape of his neck as he rocked you side to side.

You wanted so badly to tell him how much you loved him but you couldn't risk scaring him off. Not right now.

"Y/N?" He asks.

"Hmm?" You hum into his neck.

"Do you know how scared I was? How scared I still am?" His voice breaks.

"Why, Rafey?"

He inhales sharply. "I thought I was going to lose you." He admits.

You bring a lazy hand up to cup his cheek. "I'll never leave you, Rafe." You promise him. "Never."

"No more drugs," He whispers against your temple, holding you tightly.

"No more drugs." You agree. "As long as I have you, I don't need them."

Rafe continues to press kisses to your forehead and cheeks. As if he stopped he would simply die.

"Shower soup!" Courtney came in holding a tray of food.

"Yay!" You cheered.

"Shower soup?" Rafe asked.

"She likes to eat in he shower." Courtney rolled her eyes. "Just let her do it or she'll throw a fit."

You pulled away from Rafe and leaned against the wall of your massive shower as Courtney stepped in with the tray of food.

"Here's your soup, baby girl, and some crackers." She said as she handed it to you.

"Thank youuuuu," You cooed.

Courtney sat down on the opposite side of the shower and plunged a fork into a chicken breast before handing it to Rafe. "And for us," She said as she grabbed her own chicken breast with her fingers, taking a huge bite.

Rafe couldn't contain his laughter. "Is this like a California thing? Eating a whole fucking meal in the shower?"

"It's an us thing," You chime in as you shove two crackers in your mouth.

"I'll eat to that," He says before biting into the chicken.

You and Courtney chuckle as you let Rafe into your shower feasting club.

You put your bowl on the floor of the shower when you're finished. Your head falls to the side as you doze off.

"Let's get her to bed," Courtney says. "I put fresh sheets on."

"Let's do it," Rafe agrees as he stands up and shuts the shower off. He picks you up and follows Courtney out of the shower. She has a towel ready to wrap you up in.

Rafe places you in the middle of your bed and him and Courtney crawl in on either side of you. You were out cold. They were both happy you were finally resting peacefully.

"Rafe," Courtney says, turning to look at him.

Rafe meets her gaze. "Yeah?"

"Do you love her?" Courtney asks without hesitation.

Rafe rests his head back on his pillow and then turns to look at you.

"I do," He sighs. "More than anything."

Courtney gives a small smile at the confession. "She loves you too."

"Really?" Rafe asks.

"Yeah. She does. I've never seen her so happy before."

"Why'd she keep doing drugs then?"

"It's complicated, Rafe."

He nods. "I'm not letting her touch that shit again." He says. "I thought we were going to lose her."

"Me too," Courtney confesses as she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I've never seen her get so bad. Thank you for helping."

"I'd do anything for her," Rafe admits.

"Why don't you tell her how much you love her?" Courtney asks.

Rafe takes in a deep breath. "I will," He says. "When she's feeling better."

Courtney smiles. "Good." She says before reaching over and turning off the light. "Oh, and Rafe?"

"Yeah?

"If you ever hurt her, I will slit your throat."

"Understood." He says with a smile.

__________________________

The next few days go by in a blur. You can feel Courtney and Rafe around you but you can't remember much.

On day four you wake up mostly clear headed. A little groggy, but overall ready to take on the day.

"Goodmorning gorgeous," Courtney sat on top of you, her forehead touching yours. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling great!" You say as you pull her in for a hug. You sit and snuggle her for a moment before she speaks up.

"Rafe made breakfast!" She says. "Come on!" She pulls you from the bed, eager to have her best friend back.

You stumble behind her as you guys make your way to the kitchen.

"She's up!" Courtney announces.

Rafe stops what he's doing and turns to look at you. "Hey," He says softly as he makes his way over to you and pulls you tight against his chest. His scent makes you melt.

"Hey," You whisper.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, running his fingers through your hair.

"Better," You say as your look up to him with a smile and rest your chin against his chest.

He wants nothing more than to kiss you in that moment but he holds back. "You hungry?" He asks.

"Very," You giggle.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Sit down," He demands. You slide into a seat next to Courtney. Rafe puts finishing touches on your breakfast and then he slides a plate in front of both you and Courtney.

"Shit Rafe, you might be a better cook than me!" Courtney says as she digs in.

You laugh. "Well you both beat me in that department. This looks amazing Rafe."

He smiles at you. He grabs his own plate and leans over the counter, eating across from you and Courtney.

"Okay, this is like...heaven." Courtney admits as she shoves more bacon in her mouth.

"Fucking facts!" You agree. "Rafe, will you make me breakfast every morning?" You chuckle.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He says with a smile.

"Hey...do you guys have any weed?" You ask.

"Got you a big old bag," Courtney laughed. She pulled it out of her bag and tossed it at Rafe. "Roll one up, would you Cameron?"

"Gladly," He says.

The three of you spend the rest of the day smoking weed and watching tv. You finally let Court and Rafe talk you into some comedy.

"It's disturbing that all you watch is horror!" Courtney preached.

You looked to Rafe. "Hey, I kind of agree with her." He says, holding up his hands defensively.

"Fine. Make me laugh." You demand.

You ended up laughing your ass off at It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia for the rest of the day.

You ended your day blissfully falling asleep in Rafe's lap.

"My parents need me home for a bit," Courtney says as she stands up. "I'm right down the street. Can you take care of her for a bit?"

"Of course," Rafe smiles, running his hand through your hair as he always does. "I'll text you if there is any crisis." He chuckled but his eyes were serious.

"Okay. Thanks Rafe. Take care of my girl." Courtney says, placing a kiss to your temple.

"Always." He promised.

______________________________

You awoke early in the morning. The sun just peaking over the horizon. You could feel Rafe's form around you. The way he molded his body to keep you safe, even when he was sleeping.

You slowly slipped out of his grip, trying your best not to wake him. You saw a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table and you grabbed one.

You headed to the back porch. The warm morning air hitting your skin was the cure you needed. You felt so amazing. No drugs in your system, besides weed. You felt like a whole new person.

You brought the cigarette to your lips and lit it. You took a long drag, leaning back before you exhaled.

"Goodmorning,"

You turned quickly to see Rafe joining you on the deck.

"Hey," You smiled. Rafe didn't ignore the way your eyes lit up at the sight of him.

His hair was messy, sweatpants barely clinging to his hips, bare feet, and opened button up shirt. He was quite literally the most perfect human you'd ever seen.

"When did Court leave?" You ask, taking another drag off your cigarette, pressing your foot back against the railing.

"Last night," He responded. "She had a few things to do for her parents."

You nodded and handed him the cigarette. The way he took it from you and placed it gently between his lips made your knees weak. He only took one drag before flicking it to the side.

"I'm so happy you're feeling better." He said as he closed the space between you and pulled you into him.

"Thank you for taking care of me." You said into his chest.

"I'll always take care of you," He promised. "I'm sorry I failed you."

"Rafe, it wasn't your fault-"

"I should have been paying closer attention."

"Rafey," You said as you reached up and ran your fingers through his messy hair. "I kept it from you. And I'm sorry, Don't blame yourself, please." You practically begged.

He nodded hesitantly before burying his face in your hair. Taking in the scent of your shampoo once again.

"I love you." He mumbled into your hair.

You pulled back from him. "What..did you say?"

He sucked in a nervous breath. "I love you, Y/N." He said again.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, jaw agape.

"And I'm sorry if that's like weird but like I thought I lost you and I just needed you to know."

"Rafe,"

"And I just feel like I need to tell you because you never know what happens in life and-"

"Rafe!"

His eyes snap to yours.

"I love you too." You said softly.

He was silent for a moment while he watched you.

"You don't have to sa-"

"Rafe! I fucking love you!"

He let out a nervous breath and smiled at your words.

He took a step closer to you, placing his hands on your hips.

"Can I..."

"Please." You begged. Bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck and pulling him close to you. His arms brought you closer to his body as his lips hovered over yours.

"Kiss me, Rafe." You begged once more.

He didn't hesitate to press his lips to yours. He was gentle, but passionate. He brought a hand up to cup your face, pulling you deeper into the kiss.

You placed your hand over his as you moaned against his lips. His tongue brushed your bottom lip, asking for entrance and you accepted needily.

Your tongue danced with his for a few more moments before he slowly pulled back, leaving you hungry for more.

"I was so scared I was going to lose you." He confessed, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I'm sorry, Rafe." You said. "I promise, I'll never leave you."

You saw a tear fall from his eye as he swallowed. "I don't want to live without you."

"You're everything I've ever needed." You told him.

"No more drugs?" He asked

"No more drugs." You confirmed.

[freshlove-sturn]

house on the cape IV

pt 1, pt2, pt3, pt4

a/n: FINALE!!

summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

nick, chris, and nate had all just left to go pick up food, leaving matt and i by ourselves.

i sit perched on the counter top, matt has his body leaned up against the counter across from me. music plays softly from the tv. it’s nearing midnight, the only light illuminating the room coming from the street lights shining through the windows.

“i’m kinda sad this is our last night.” matt says.

“me too.” i agree. “it’s been so fun.”

i cherish every moment with matt. especially ones like these, where it’s just the two of us. ever since he moved across the country, i realized just how much i took for granted. before he left, i had real interactions to pine over and over romanticize. but now, i just have texts to dissect. and when him and his brothers are back in boston, they want to spend as much time as possible with friends and family, rightfully so. so it’s rare to have matt all to myself like this, even if it were just for a little while.

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” matt’s soft voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

i hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “i’m just gonna miss you.”

“i’m gonna miss you too y/n. a lot. i always do.”

something about the way he added that he “always” misses me makes my heart skip a beat.

“but hey let’s not think about that right now, alright? we’re with each other now and that’s all that matters, right?” he smiles sweetly at me, making it damn near impossible to be upset.

just before i could say anything, the first few notes of “fade into you” by mazzy star play through the speakers of the tv. we immediately look at each other. we coined it as our song years ago, when it played at a family friends wedding, being the very first song we had ever slow danced to. ever since that day, whenever it played while we were together, it was practically a requirement that we dance.

matt smiles cheekily at me, walking toward my spot on counter. he extends his arm, holding his hand out for me to take.

“may i have this dance, m’lady?” he smiles.

“of course.” i take his hand, and he gently helps me off of the counter.

he leads me over to the middle of the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for more light.

“classy.” i giggle, bringing my arms up around his neck. he places his hands on either side of my hips.

the cool air from the fridge contrasts the warmth of his hands, as well as the heat of my cheeks. we begin to sway, our steps falling into pace perfectly. i can almost feel the world around us melt away, leaving us in our own little world, a world where us in this moment is the only thing that matters.

the light from the refrigerator casts a soft halo around our bodies as we moved in sync. matt’s familiar gentle touch feels so different. like there was more to it than just participating in a silly tradition we came up with. as my heart races, i wonder if he can hear it.

i rest my head against matt’s chest, and i soon feel the weight of his chin press against the top of my head. after a few moment, i look up at him. our eyes meet, and for a second i swear i can see a flicker of something more. something that goes deeper than friendship, but then that moment passes just as quickly as it came, and we’re back to being two best friends dancing in the glow of the refrigerator light.

matt gives me a playful smile before intertwining our fingers and spinning me around. the motion slow and tender, as the air brushes across my face in a gentle breeze. while my body twirls, everything around me becomes a soft blur, the one thing remaining the same however was matt’s gaze fixated on me.

when my body stills and we come back to facing each other, my arms find his neck again, and his hands come back to their place on my hips. our laughter fills the room.

“we’re getting prettty good at that if i do say so myself.” matt smiles cheekily.

“i think so too.” i giggle.

our eyes remain on each other, but our faces closer now than they were before. matt’s breath mingling with mine.

time seems like it has halted to a stop. it feels as though matt’s lips have a magnetic pull, every second threatening to close the gap between us. something that i craved, but i could never bring myself to act on.

that’s when the front door opens, forcing us to act casual. my hands drop back to my sides, and matt folds his across his chest as the boys file into the kitchen with pizza boxes.

“why do i feel like we’re interrupting something?” nate questions, looking between the both of us.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

i lie in bed, staring at the ceiling above me. my mind is racing. although the room around me is dark, the thoughts swirling around my head are anything but. keeping me awake. i toss and turn, searching for a comfortable position, wanting nothing more than to sleep. something to turn off my mind. my feeling for matt eating away at me.

i knew i needed to confess my feelings for him before it was too late, but the fear of what might happen if i do keeps me awake.

for years, i’ve teetered the edge of friendship and something more with matt. our every interaction acting as a breeze, threatening to knock me off. threatening my feelings for him to spill out of me in a confession that could potentially ruin everything.

matt is my best friend. he always has been. and risking that was nothing short of terrifying. but the thought of never knowing if we could ever become something is almost scarier. my heart aches with the unspoken words.

a wave of realization and courage crashes over me. i knew my only way to find peace was being honest with myself and matt. i can’t keep living in this abyss torn between hope and fear. the what ifs and buts.

it’s like i lose all control of my body when i stand up from bed and move towards my door. on a mission to be completely honest with matt.

the door handle is cold in my grasp, i pull it open and to my surprise, im met with matt’s blue eyes on the other side.

we stare at each other in shock for a second before matt speaks.

“fuck it.” he says under his breath before speaking again. “look y/n, this has been killing me forever and i- shit. we’ve been friends for so long. you’ve always been my person and ive jusy been too scared to say anything because i didn’t want to lose this with you but i seriously can’t keep it to myself anymore. i love you. and not just as a friend, like im IN love with you y/n. and i have been for so fucking long. i had to tell you because you deserve to know. i completely understand if this is a lot to take in but i-“

“i love you too matt.” i cut him off, looking up at him. a smile tugging at my lips.

i felt a rush of warmth encase my chest. a mix of happiness and disbelief showering over me. was this seriously happening? all those years of hoping, wondering, and longing for this moment— suddenly it all became real.

matt’s lips crash into mine with a sense of pent up desperation. i kiss him back. his lips feeling even better than i had imagined. it felt so natural, so right. this was meant to happen. our lips danced together in a perfect rhythm, smooth and sweet like honey.

matt pulls away for a second. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that” he smiles.

“me too.” i say, trying to catch my breath.

matt peppers my lips in sweet pecks, his hands cupping my cheeks.

“so… what now?” i ask.

“i guess we try this out.” matt’s forehead presses against mine.

“i guess so.” i smile.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

i wake up, one of my legs draped over matt’s, my arm rested on his chest and my head barked in the crook of his arm.

i look up at his sleeping face and smile. i brush his hair out of his face, causing him to wake up.

he smiles down at me. “good morning pretty girl.” his voice tired and gravelly.

i could definitely get used to that nickname.

“morning” i smile back at him.

after a few minutes, we decide to go join everyone else out in the living room.

as soon as we become visible to the 3 of them, their jaws immediately drop.

“no fucking way.” chris says, shocked. looking around at the others and then back to us.

“about fucking time. i didn’t know how much longer i could be the middle man. do you know how hard it is to listen to yall yap about being in love with each other and being scared about it not being reciprocated, knowing full well the other feels the exact same way?” nate asks. causing both of us to smile.

“you have so much explaining to do.” nick tells us, looking back and forth between us.

“i called it. did i not? nick you owe me 50 bucks.” chris makes a forking over motion with his hand.

“no shot you bet on us getting together.” matt shakes his head.

who knew that i would fall in love, and get together with the boy of my dreams all at the same place?

i couldn’t help but smile. i finally had what i’ve wanted and craved more than anything for years.

and it was all thanks to the house on the cape.

✧･: *✧･ﾟ:* the end ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a/n: I HOPE YALL LIKED THIS SERIES!!!

taglist: @ribread03 @billy9669 @lovesturni0l0s @p4lxouterbanks @blablablabla2525 @bbernard-03 @sturniololvrrr @hayhjelmstad15

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Christmas Cookies » Tommy Lee

December 8th

Pairings: Husband/Dad!Tommy Lee x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Violet

Summary: Tommy comes home to his wife and 5 year old daughter making Christmas cookies.

Warnings: Fluff, language, making out (18+), mentions of sex (18+), hugs and kisses, nicknames for daughter (princess, little rockstar), pet names (babe)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

“Can I use chocolate chips for the eyes and buttons?” Violet asks you.

“Of course you can, princess.” You handed her a bag of chocolate chips. “Try not to make a mess.” You tell her.

You set her up at the table with some cookies and the supplies she needed to decorate them. You went back to the kitchen to pick up where you left off.

“I’m home!” Tommy’s voice echoed through the house.

Tommy frowned when he didn’t see you and Violet greet him at the door like you two normally do. He walked to the dining room to see Violet sitting at the table and decorating cookies. He sat down next to her and gave her a kiss on the side of her head.

“What are you doing, little rockstar?” Tommy asked her.

“Decorating Christmas cookies.” Violet says, concentrating on the cookies she’s working on.

“What’s with the chocolate chips?” He asks, eating a couple of chocolate chips.

“I’m using them for eyes and buttons and creativity.” She tells him.

“Ok. I’ll leave you to it. Where’s mommy?” He asks.

“Kitchen.” She pointed towards the kitchen.

Tommy got up and went to the kitchen to see you making more Christmas cookies. He wrapped his arms around you from behind.

“Hey, babe. Miss me?” Tommy says, kissing your neck

You turned around and kissed his lips.

“Of course I did.” You say against his lips.

Luckily you had a timer on for the cookies and you had a few minutes to yourself before putting the next batch of cookies in. Tommy’s hands found their place on your hips and pinned you against the kitchen counter. Your hands gripped his shirt to steady yourself. He moved his lips down to your neck, his teeth lightly grazing your skin causing you to gasp.

“Tommy.” You breathed. “Our daughter is in the dining room.” You remind him, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.

“Then I guess we have to be quiet.” He says.

His breath against your skin sent goosebumps through your body. He placed his lips back on yours and picked you up, placing you on the clear space on the counter. You wrapped your legs around his way and pulled him closer to you. You two didn’t even hear the little footsteps of your daughter enter the kitchen.

“Am I getting a baby sister for Christmas?!” She asks loudly.

You and Tommy quickly pulled away from each other. Tommy helped you down from the counter.

“I uhh… not right now, princess. Do you need anything?” You asked.

“More cookies.” She says.

“Ok. I’ll bring them to you in a minute.” You tell her.

“Ok!” She says, going back to the dining room.

You looked at Tommy to see a smirk on his face.

“What are you smirking about?” You asked him.

“We could give her a baby sister or even a baby brother for Christmas.” Tommy says, kissing your neck again.

“Tommy, we— fuck. Not right now.” You sighed. “Cookies now. Sex later.” You say, lightly pushing him away.

“Where should be do it this time, babe? Balcony? Hot tub?” He asks, pulling you in for another kiss.

“You choose.” You say against his lips.

Tommy’s hands traveled down your body, stopping at your ass and giving it a squeeze causing you to gasp.

“Mhmm! We need to stop before she walks in again.” You pushed him away. “Give these to Violet.” You say, handing him a plate of cookies.

Tommy took the plate from your hand and smacked your ass before leaving the kitchen. You giggled and went back to making Christmas cookies.

❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

-Bucky Doll

[thewritermj]

Favors (2)

pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem! reader part 2 (part 1 here)

summary: where you repay Joel for his favors. warnings: MDNI smut, drinking, petnames, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (please, use protection), slight daddy kink, a hint of daddy issues, and I think that's all a/n: english is not my first language, so go easy on me. it's my first time writing smut that's why it took so long for me to post it, sorry. hope you enjoy, I didn't, but who knows.

It was Friday night and Joel’s house was full of teenagers girls screaming and laughing in the living room with a bunch of snacks in front of them. A pack of magazines, make up, pink pillows and 2000’s movies were placed all over the place. The girls had put on some make up with lots of glitter to take photos. And Joel was having a hard time finding peace in the middle of it all. It was like he was caught in the middle of a war zone where the weapons were made of rainbows and unicorn and everything sounded like those fairy noises from Disney movies.

But Sarah had the brightest smiled on her face and she was almost out of breath with laughter, all the girly stuff was worth it.

Tommy had taken off to let the girls have some privacy, and he was on his way too, Sarah was big enough to prevent the house from getting on fire –or so he hoped-, and he wasn’t going far anyway, just the neighbour’s for some beer.

He was about to say goodbye when the doorbell rang. He frowned and walked over to see who it was. As he opened the door, he was met with a pair of big eyes staring at him.

“Hi” you said. “I just came by to give Sarah her-“ but you were interrupted by the girls hands pushing you inside.

“I didn’t know you’d come! Come meet everyone!” She hurried.

You smiled and greeted her friends, trying to process what all the seven girls were saying at once. Trying to catch your breath you seated on the couch and stared at Sarah wile she rambled some old histories about the time you were her babysitter. But all you could do was scan the house and mentally try to list everything that had changed since your last visit.

Like the new armchair, the matching curtains, the new TV, some more photos and little pieces of decoration. The kitchen had changed also, it used to have a door and now it was no longer separated from the living room. You liked, you could see the backyard from where you were sitting.

“Anyways…What are you doing here, y/n?” She widened her eye and glanced over to her dad who was watching the scene from the kitchen counter. “Are you and my dad going out?”

“W-what? No…I am…I just came by to give you this, Little S.” you explained in a blush, the girls giggling in front of you “Happy birthday.”

You handed her the blue box from inside your purse. Sarah sat next to you and almost ripped it out to get her to her present.

“Wow…” She said lifting the golden chain with an S attached to it. “It’s beautiful! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” and then she buried herself in your arms in a warm hug, you giggled and hugged her back.

She showed the chain to her friends and you took this as an opportunity to slip out of the circle and came to meet Joel in the kitchen.

“Hey” you said with a smile “Seems like your handling them just fine”

“Yeah” he chuckled “Unless you want your old job back, I don’t mind letting those little glitter bombs under your watch.”

You laughed “Gonna charge you more than just ten dollars an hour then.” You both laughed.

“Thanks for being so attentive over Sarah.” He said in a more serious tone, “She really looks up to you.”

You glanced back to where the girls were chatting in whispers.

“She means a lot to me.” You said “And I really miss seeing her every weekend.” You added.

“ Like I said, fell free to have your old job back.” I miss having you around. He almost added.

You laughed.

“So…where’s Tommy? Did the girls scared him away?”

“No, actually, Sarah wanted the house just for herself and her friends tonight. So Tommy headed off already, I was just leaving too.”

Your smiled faded for a second.

“Oh, I’m sorry if I’m holding you here, I have to go too, it’s getting pretty late”

“I can give you a ride, if you want”. He didn’t know why he said that, he wasn’t going to take the car out, but there was a strange need inside of him to just be useful to you, to being able to provide something, to take care of you.

You were about to answer him when a glimpse of the girls catch your eyes and you turned to see what they were doing. The bunch of girls were all cramped in the sofa, watching you and Joel closely with a big smile on their faces and giggling sounds.

Oh. My. God.

You knew exactly what they were doing. You used to do the same thing with your friends, it was what you called “Lover’s Spy”. Where you’d watch a couple chatting or kissing as if it was a real life romance movie. You did it to your parents, to your friend’s older brother and his girlfriend, and now, Sarah and her friends were doing it to Joel and you.

You must be so red, because you can actually feel the blood rising to your cheeks and you refused to look back at Joel.

“It’s fine…Uhm. I can walk.”

You gather your purse from the sofa and Sarah held you wrist.

“No. Dad can drive you! It’s dangerous at night” She said.

“It’s eight o’clock, Sarah.” You chuckled. “I’ll be fine”

You kissed her cheek and said goodbye to her friends, but before you could move another inch closer to the door, you heard Joel’s picking up his wallet and the car keys.

“Hold on, sweets, I’ll drive you. Was going to take the car anyway. Sarah,” he turned to her with both hands on his hips, a typically dad pose. “lock the door, don’t let anyone in or out. Watch for the pizza, the money is on the counter. If anything happens you call me or Tommy. I’ll be back whitin’ a few hours.” She nodded. “You guys have fun, good night”

“Good night, dad!”

“Good night, Mr. Miller!” The girls said all together.

You smiled and waved at them, following Joel outside his house.

He opened the front door for you to get in, entering the car soon after.

“So, your place?”

“Yeah. I was at my dad’s.” You said adjusting your seatbelt. “So, where are you going to do while the glitter bombs destroy your house?”

He laughed pulling out to the road.

“I was gonna meet Tommy and a friend for some beers. What about you? Nothing better to do on a Friday night then crash at a teenagers sleepover?”

You shake your head.

“Nope. I’ve been so tired I can’t even think about going our right now.”

Joel chuckled. “Wait to see how’s that on my age.” He let it slip, regretting it right after. In case you haven’t notice the age gap between the two of you.

The car went silent for a moment before you opened your mouth.

“You’re not that old” She said quietly. “Like, you’re not old enough to be my dad”.

What the fuck did you just said?! Why were you trying to justify the age gap and why, why the fuck did you have to use that example? You wanted to open the door and throw yourself on the road.

Joel hummed as he stopped at a red light. He was about to say something, but your phone started to ring –thanks, god-. But you cringed at the person that was calling you.

“Hey, dad” You said awkwardly and Joel turned to you with a weird expression. “Yeah, I’m going home right now.” He asked if you had called a taxi. “No. Joel’s driving me” “Who?” “Joel Miller…Sarah’s dad.” “Oh of course, say hi to him” “He said hi” you repeated and Joel smiled a little. “I’m gonna hang up, dad. Love you” “Love you too, honey”

“How’s your old man, doing?”

“He’s good.” You answered quickly, wanting to move on from the “father” topic.

The silence danced around the two of you in such a comic way. You were playing nervously with the hem of your black skirt, trying to remember if your apartment always were this far.

Joel kept his eyes on you through the mirror, trying to figure out why you seemed so nervous. He felt that weird sensation to your words and the awkward feeling it left in the car, put he wanted to put all that behind because sooner than he expected you’d be home and would say goodbye. And he wanted to cling to that warm feeling that spread across his chest every time you’d smile at him.

Joel took a moment to realize that you were cold. You were bracing yourself with the bare skin of your arms and your bare legs were shaking slightly.

“You want me to turn down the air?” He asked.

“No…Well, yes” You said shyly.

“No problem, sweets” He said turning it off for you.

Your top did nothing to cover you from the cold, and neither did your leather skirt. You could lie and say you picked it up for no exact reason, but the truth was that you picked that outfit for Joel. The white top crop accentuated your cleavage and gave him a pretty good view of your breast –not that he did look, always a gentleman- and the leather skirt was short, exposing more of the flesh of your thighs and made them look prettier. You felt hot in that outfit, and you knew you’d see Joel tonight. So, two plus two equals four.

“Okay, so you’re just gonna be all by yourself tonight?” Joel asked after a while.

“Yeah. Kinda used to it now” You watched as he parked in front of your place. “Unless…”

You didn’t finished it. Just tug off your seatbelt.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if you didn’t want to come in, but, Tommy and your friend are waiting for you. I just thought it would be nice having someone to talk to.” You paused, waiting for Joel to say something. “I enjoy talking to you.” You added.

“I enjoy talking to you too, pretty thing” He responded. “Guess I can stay for a while, they won’t mind.”

You cracked a smiled and both of you got out of the car, going upstairs to your apartment.

You opened the door for Joel for the second time that week and he took his shoes off going to seat in the couch while you turned on the dim lights.

“I don’t have beers but…I think I have a bottle of wine.” You said with a smirk.

Joel lifted his eyebrow in a suggestive way and nodded.

“Which one?”

“The cheapest one” You joked going to the kitchen.

You closed the door behind you to hid from him. You were about to drink wine with the most attractive man you’ve ever met. It felt like a dream, you had to shook yourself out of it to go look for the bottle and the glasses.

Before going out, you took a deep breath and tried to control all of your insecurities and thoughts.

You went back to the living room to find Joel sitting comfortably in you couth. Back relaxed against the cushions, left foot hanging loosely over the right knee and a soft smirk.

“Want me to open it?”

“Yeah” you admitted in a chuckle.

You handed him the bottle and the opener and in a blink of an eye, your glass was full with the red drink. You gave his glass a little toast before sipping yours and you settled by his side.

After a while and a few glasses, you were kinda tipsy and you head had a funny ache, but you didn’t mind as long as Joel kept talking.

“Consider this a ‘thank you’ for all your help, ‘round here.” You said smiling and Joel shook his head.

“No need to thank me, sweets.”

You both had talked for hours. About work, people, politics, everything. He was such an easy person to talk to, he could express himself just right, joking when he felt like it, using his hands to articulate his thoughts and the voice, that damn low voice he was using to talk to you, as if it was a secret no one could listen to. You were sure he was doing it on purpose, he had to be. There’s no way he didn’t know about the effect his voice had on you.

Or maybe, maybe, he was just as tipsy as you were. Joel was the one filling the glasses once they were empty and he was so careful to never leave it empty he might be getting a little bit drunk. Not with the wine, but with the way your eyes danced around his face and how you were paying full attention to what he was saying, the red in your cheeks he didn’t know if came from the drink or the hot temperature of the night. He could never grow tired of hearing your sweet voice talk about something he wouldn’t remember the next morning, but the sound of your voice was ethereal, it could drive him insane with just the thought of how you’d sound moaning for him.

“Oh…” You pouted. “The second bottle’s empty”

“Do you have another one?” He asked.

“Uhum, I’ll be back in a minute.” You said getting up.

Joel watched at the sight of your frame walking away from him, your hips swaying into the kitchen and he sighed.

You came back to find Joel in a different position. He had an arm resting along the arm of the sofa, almost inviting you into his side, closer. His legs were parted, showing off his thick thighs and he looked so godamn good like that, his lap looked so comfortable. The only place you’d like to sit.

And yet, you sat back in the couch, with both of your legs beneath you, so you were completely turned to Joel, his hand ghosting your shoulder as you shifted closer to his body.

“There we go” You said filling both glasses.

“Thanks, pretty thing”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. Joe smirked wickedly.

“Do you like that?”

“Yeah”

He nodded and took a sip of his wine. You rested your head on his strong biceps and sighed.

“So, tell me. How come there was never a Mrs. Miller?” You asked. “There must be a lot of women waiting on that line”

“I guess, yeah, back in the day there could be but, after Sarah…Everything just seemed least important, you know?”

You smiled softly at his confession. Joel really was a hell of a good father, and you were sure he would never choose some lame ass women to be Sarah’s new mom or something, you just wish your dad would have had the same ideal after the divorce.

“That’s sweet.” You said softly, still resting against his arm.

“But what about you, uh? I bet there’s a lot of guys giving your old man a headache.” He smirked.

You bit your lip shaking your head.

“No, not really. I don’t think I ever found the right guy. Or a guy that could give me what I want, anyways. It seems I have this thing about always going for the idiots.” You said in a chuckled.

For a second, the memories of your ex boyfriend filled your mind and all you could think about was all the bad things he had done. The lies, the fights, the cheating, the break ups, the ‘I swear I’m gonna change’ promises, all of that.

“And what are you looking for, pretty thing?” Joel asked, brining you back from the dark memories.

“Someone to take care of me.”

You didn’t know if it was the wine, or the fact that you could feel like telling Joel everything, the urge to open yourself to him. You had no idea why you had been so sincere about it.

Joel let the hand on your shoulder fall to your waist, holding you a little closer and you felt the heat run across your chest and face, looking at him with a puzzled face and big eyes. His free hand rest the glass in the wooden table and came to run his thumb through your cheek in such a sweet way that had you melting at his touch.

“Joel…” You said breathless.

“Yes, pretty thing?”

“What are you doing?”

He smirked.

“I knew I was bad at flirting with you, but I didn’t know it was that bad.” He chuckled.

“You…What?!”

Him…What?

He was flirting with you?

Joel Miller was flirting with you?

Did he find you attractive? Pretty? Interesting?         

Was this a dream? If it was, you’d prey you’d never wake up.

“I was flirting with you, y/n. Maybe I should’ve just being more open about it”

“But…I thought…” You were having a hard time focusing with his face so close to yours and…when did you get so close? “Fixing my things and going to the my shop once a week was you flirting?” You laughed a little.

He didn’t find it funny you calling out on his tactics, he just play along whit it.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“ Yeah, I guess it worked, pops”

“Pops? Thought I wasn’t old enough to be your dad.” He strengthen the grip in your waist.

You bate your eyelashes in an innocent way ant lifted a finger to run a vein upon his bicep.

“Dad? No. Daddy, in the other hand…” You said normally.

His jaw clenched and he readjusted himself on his seat.

“What did you just said, pretty girl?”

You giggled leaning into his ear to whisper “Daddy”.

“Fuck, baby, come closer.”

And the next thing you remember it’s Joel’s strong hands coming to pull you onto his lap, with your legs on each side of his sides, and you finally sited in the most comfortable place in your whole house.

“Hi.” You said giggling.

He shook his head with an amused grin and then his lips were crashing into yours with an insatiable hunger. Joel kissed like it was the end of the world, like anything else didn’t mattered, but your lips, his hands were everywhere. At you waist, pulling you closer, at your neck, hair, tights, every little inch he could reach. He licked slightly your bottom lip and immediately you opened yourself for him leaning in closer to run a hand along his broad shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer, pressing your chests together.

But eventually, both of you had to gasp for air. And you were sure Joel was about to say something, but as soon as his mouth left yours, you pulled him by his collar back to your grip.

You wanted more.

 You let out a moan at the smirk he gave you. You wanted to feel every little movement of Joel’s tongue around yours, every breath he let into your face, every surface of your skin his hands would palm. Brining your own hands to his hair, you massage his scalp and tugged on his black locks, earning a low groan that didn’t nothing to help the slick that were gathering inside your panties.

“Why so desperate, baby? I’m right here.” Joel said when you broke the kiss.

He tugged some locks of your hair behind your ear and ran a finger across you cheek.

“So pretty” He hummed.

“Joel…” You mewled, “I need you.”

“I know, baby. I’m gonna take care of you, I promise.” He said in a smirk. “I need you too.”

And with that, Joel guided your hips so the rolled over his growing erection and you closed your eyes at the felling of his cock against you heat.

“I wanted you for so long, y/n.”

“You could had just asked, you know.” You said.

“I didn’t wanted to be a creepy old man.” He said in a chuckle.

You leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek and Joel’s heart flipped inside.

“You’re not, Joel. You’re the most respectful guy I’ve ever met. I put on a sexy top for you and you didn’t stare at my boobs for once in the entire night!”

He looked down to where your chest were moving up and down with your heavy breathing.

“I’m looking now.” He said lifting a hand to grope your right tit. “Nice tits, baby.”

You laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips again, as you rocked your hips against his, trying to find relief in the friction it brought to your core.

Before you cold register, Joel was carrying you around your house, your legs wrapped around his waist as his strong arms secured you to his body. He found the door to your room very quickly, swinging it open with a foot and closing it right behind the both of you.

He sat on your bed with you on his lap as he kissed his way along your jaw, founding that one spot under your ear that had you arching your back into him.

You felt like you were on fire. All your brain could think about was Joel, was how good he was making you feel even without landing a finger to your heat. He was burning you alive and you’d die a happy woman in his hold.

You whined at Joel’s hands coming under your top, leaving a hot trail on it’s awaken. He tugged the soft material and you nodded. Joel lifted the top above your head to find out that you weren’t using a bra.

“Fucking hell…” He whispered, lowering himself to press a wet kiss between your breasts. “You’re such a pretty little girl, baby.”

You moaned at the touch of Joel lips on you nipple. He smirked against your skin as he licked, sucked, bit, marked one of your tits, while his hand came to play with the other nipple, swiping it between his skilful fingers. You turned into a whimpering mess as his mouth abused your breasts and you tugged at his hair to prevent him from choking between the valley of your breasts when he buried his face in it.

“You’re wearing too much, daddy.” You complained.

He smiled devilish while looking up to you before taking of his shirt and throwing it somewhere in the bedroom floor. You smiled happy and pushed himself away from your skin to wonder around his torso, circling his abdomen with your nails and going to ran along his spine.

You bit your bottom lip and stared depply into his eyes in a silent request.

“Beg for it.”

“Please.” You said with a half smirk.

“You can do better than that, can’t you, baby? Come on, beg for daddy”

You left out a whimper at the sound of the name coming out of his mouth like that.

“Please, Joel, please. I need you so bad, need you inside me. Please, fuck me, Joel.” You said breathless.

He smirked and in one single motion, had you lying in your back for him, your legs swinging in the edge of the bed.

“Damn it, sweets, begs for it so easy.” He said slipping you skirt out of your body, leaving you in your pair of pink-laced panties. “Look at you” he cooed.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment and a certain urge to hide suddenly tool over and you tried to close your legs, but Joel stopped you, holding your knees.

“Don’t hide away from me now, baby. Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asked concern in his voice and he let your knees go.

“Yes! It’s just what I wanted, Joel…I guess I felt a little shy”

“Shy? About what?” He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, “You’re so goddamn pretty.” He said against your lips before cup your clothed pussy.

You whines and opened your leg for him once again, Joel smirk before lowering himself to level to the middle of your tights, staring at the wet patch that was showing in your –no ruined- panties. Joel pulled the last piece of cloth out of your body. You could deny and say you did not see him putting the pink pantie in his pant’s pocket, but you had to let go a giggle.

Joel moaned at the sigh of your wet cunt, he hummed and ran a finger in your slick.

“All that for me?” You nodded.

He smirked before licking a stripe of your slick and you let out a strangled moan.

“I know you’d be sweet, baby.” He said before diving in.

Joel’s hungry mouth devoured your pussy. He licked and sucked at your clit in a rough and skilled way, making your hips buckle against his face and your eyes to shut close.

You were a moaning mess, whining and calling his name over and over. Your hands were gripping the sheets with all the strength you had. Joel’s tongue was flickering into your folds, your wetness was pooling in his chin…and the roughness of his beard against your skin was driving you feral. Every muscle of your legs were screaming for you to close them, to keep Joel between then forever –and he might stay, if you let him.

You squirm when one of Joel’s fingers traced it way down your tights to your entrance. He looked up at you through lustful eyes before filling you in. You arched your back in the mattress, pushing yourself into his head and hand.

Joel groaned.

“Fuck, babe, you’re tight even for a finger…How do you plan on taking my cock, uh?” He said curling his finger inside you.

“Oh, Joel!” You almost screamed.

Joel chuckled and continued to fuck you with his finger, his tongue making perfect eights on your clit. The pressure in your stomach started to build, the familiar tickle inside your core.

Slowly, Joel added a second finger, laying still for a moment when you hissed, and then he stared to mimic a scissor inside your cunt, making you see stars. Of course, you had guys fingering you before, but none of them did it like Joel. He was touching you as if he had done that for ages, as if he already knew all your spots and as if your body was his own.

You were, right. Joel’s hands were as capable at sex as they were at work.

Joel Miller was fucking you open, Preparing you to take his cock. It was too good to be true, it had to be a dream.

With every move of his fingers, the pressure was amplified, his glorious mouth altering between sucking and licking at your clit.

You gasped for air and a strong grip landed in Joel’s hair as you came, trembling, shaking for him in a loud moan.

Joel moaned at the feeling, trying to catch everything you could give him, collecting your juice in his mouth. Big hands came to caress your shaking legs in a comforting way, Joel rested his head on your tight, waiting for you to come down your high.

“Kiss me” You asked.

Joel came up from the middle of your legs and leaned in to your face. You cupped his jaw with your hands, admiring the way you were glistening on his tanned skin.

Before giving him your lips, you stuck your tongue out to lick a long stripe of the wetness from his cheek.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He asked before giving you a hunger kiss.

When Joel shifted closer, you could feel his hard erection against your inner thighs and you mewled into his mouth.

“Joel…” You stared.

“Yeah, I know, sweets, I know” He responded with a smirk. “Do you have a condom?”

You groaned in frustration. “No…But I’m good if your are?”

Joel smirked and pressed a kiss to your lips.

He then got off of you. Pouting with the loss of proximity, you clench your legs together.

Joel took of his heavy pants too slowly for your licking, but to your surprise, he was bare beneath his jeans, a line of hair was leading to his painful hard cock, the pre-cum liking from the tip.

Your eyes flicked to his in a wicked way, but before you could say anything about him going commando, he was on top of you again.

“Wait” You said, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him slightly. “Let me look at you, daddy.”

Joel smirked. “You can look as long as you want to, pretty thing.”

Joel sat back on the bed and you ran your hands along his heavy chest. You admire his length. He was big, he probably knew it, but goddamn there was no way he would fit inside you. He was thick to, with bulging veins across him. It made your mouth water and you hooked your fingers around it, they barely held him whole. Joel gasped as you slowly jerked him off.

When you lowered yourself, Joel stopped you.

“If I have your mouth now, I’ll come down your throat, baby, and believe me”, he stared to push you onto the mattress again “I rather do that somewhere else. Maybe next time, what do you say, sweets?”

Next time.

Next time.

Next time.

You just nodded and let Joel manhandle you. He let you in the pillow and pressed a kiss to your lips before settling between your legs, opening them wide for him do fit better. Joel stopped for a moment to take the view in; you spread for him, just for him. He had dreamed of this, of how you’d look, but now, you looked like a Michelangelo panting. Red cheeks, thin layer of sweet, doe eyes and the dim light making you glow.

“Can I?” He asked holding his cock with one hand, adjusting to the front of your entrance.

“Yes. Please, Joel” You plead.

Joel pushed in just a bit, watching as you closed your eyes and tightened around his tip.

“It w-wont fit” You said in a soft gasp.

“We’ll make it fit. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” He leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. Joel stopped a moment to look at you, concerned that it was hurting you, that was the last thing he wanted to. “Do you wanna stop? We can stop”

He pulled out and you immediately missed him.

“No! No. I don’t want to stop, I just need to adjust…Put it back in, Joel, please” You hushed, grabbing his hand to interlock with yours as he started to push in again.

You closed your eyes shut as you feel the stretch of Joel’s cock inside your pussy. He moaned at the feeling of you wrapping around him so deliciously. However, he gathered everything in him to stay still until you tell him otherwise. Joel watched as you shivered under him and how tears stared to peek under your closed eyelashes, he presses soft kisses around your face and whispered sweet nothings in your ears.

You opened your eyes, feeling his length deep inside your womb. You were stuffed with him, being one. The pain slowly melted into pleasure and you couldn’t tell where you ended and where he begun. You tried to move your hips forward, you hissed but it felt so good, the tip of Joel’s manhood peaking at your sweet spot just a little.

Joel’s hot breath in your neck, and the tickling of his beard in your skin gave you a shiver and a wave of determination went pass your body.

Joel Miller was on top of you, what the fuck were you waiting for?

“Move.” You said.

Joel pulled halfway and slowly came back in, earning a moan from both of you.

“Fuck, baby, such a tight pussy.” Joel groaned as he picked up a slow and gentle pace.

You whimpered and squeezes the hand that was in yours, Joel squeezed back.

“Tell me how you want it, sweets” He demanded.

“Hard” You panted.

Joel smirked. A devilish grin in his features.

He let go of your hand to grip at your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, making you slam against his cock as he readjust himself on his knees.

Joel started thrusting into you in a brutal pace. His cock going in and out of you making you gasp for air. The room was filled with the sound of you. Skin on skin. The wetness of your core, your moans and whimpers, Joel’s heavy breathing and pants.

You carved your nails into his shoulder, knowing it’d leave a bruise, but you didn’t care, he didn’t seemed to care either. You were saying his name like a prayer, over and over again like you were thanking him, it rolled so easily off your tongue Joel didn’t want to hear it any other way.

He readjusted his angle, leaning in to try to find that one spot he knew would be your last straw. That one single spot that would have you never forgetting what he fells like. And he did, with so much ease. The tip of his length hit it hard and you left out a silent scream as your hands gripped his flesh.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He asked rutting his hips harder. “I know it is, baby.” You nodded.

You rand your hands through his torso, feeling his hot skin and his muscles unearth your finger, you pushed him down so you could press a sloppy kiss to his lips, all teeth and tongue. Joel had you moaning inside his mouth as his skilled fingers danced around your clit, adding so much pleasure you felt like you could explode.

He smirked at your fucked up state as he sucked a bruise in between your breasts, knowing it would go for days until it disappeared, knowing you’d look at it and remember who gave it to you.

“Joel….F-fuck. I’m close” You panted, heart racing like a thousand horses.

“I know. This fuckin’ pussy’s clenching ‘round me so good.” He lifted a hand to caress your hair “You’re taking me so good, pretty thing. Such a good girl.”

The praise made your eyes roll back as your orgasm came crashing in a hard thrust of Joel’s cock. Your eyes closed ad you repeated his name “Joel, Joel, Joel…” Until it became a bumbling mess in your lips as he rode you through your high. He never left your heat for once, he kept whispering sweet nothing into your skin as you shake and squirm under his strong body.

“Fuck, baby, gonna cum. Where do you wan-“

“Inside” You said breathless.

Joel moaned your name, no “baby”, no “sweets”,  no “pretty thing”, your name as he came inside of you, painting your walls with his cum. Whitin’ a few low thrusts, he finally collapsed on top of you, resting his head between your breasts as both of your try to caught your breaths.

Your fingers interlaced his hair as you smoothed him.

You don’t really know how much time had passed as the both of you stayed in that position, in silence, with his soften cock inside your cunt, preventing you from leaking.

“You gonna stay there forever?” You asked in a giggle.

“It’s my new favourite place to be.” He said.

But he pulled out soon after, taking his time to watch as his cum ran out of your abused hole, wetting your sheets and the inside of your thighs. Joel looked up to find you already staring at him.

“Don’t give me those eyes, I just fucked you” He warned with a smirk.

You laughed and collect some of the white load in your fingers, bringing them towards your lips.

Joel stared as you licked and sucked them clean, tasting yours and his juices, his cock twitched in interest ad you let your fingers go with a ‘pop’ sound.

“You’re wicked” He said covering your body with his to pepper kisses in your face and you giggled.

You were about to switch position with him when a suddenly buzz came from the floor and Joel turned his head to look at it.

“Shit. ‘S my phone” He got out of bed to pick it from his trousers back pocket. “Hey, Tommy”

You sat on the bed to watch him. Joel listened to Tommy complaining about his lateness to get to theirs friends, he murmured some excuse and reached to pack his clothes from the floor.

“You still there?” You could hear Tommy saying a ‘yes’ in a tipsy voice “So…The girls are all alone until now?” “Yeah! I was waiting for you, thought you were…Wait, you’re not home right now?”

Joel stopped for a second before answering with a grin.

“No. I had to drive y/n home.” “Y/n? Are you…Are you with her right now?”  “Yeah”  “Oh. Do you want me to stop talking?”  “Hell, I do”  “Sorry. Tell her I said hi.”

Joel sighed. “Tommy says ‘hi’”. You smiled and laid back in the mattress, slowly opening your tights in a promiscuous way.  “Sorry, sweets, looks like I’ll have to get back home.”

“Now?”

“The girls are wall alone. I have to check on them”.

You pouted. Joel chuckled and started getting dresses. You watched as he slipped his jeans back on and tugged himself in, his arms flexed as he put on his shirt.

Suddenly you felt insecure. What if this was just it? Just one night stand and then you and Joel would never talk again, and you’ll feel uncomfortable in his presence? You’d have to stop seeing Sarah too. You couldn’t handle it. You didn’t want to be just another woman that had passed in Joel’s hands for a night of pleasure. Was it selfish of you to want more? Greedy? You had dreamed of it, of someone like Joel, someone who made you feel the exact same way he makes you feel. But you wouldn’t say anything, you didn’t want to pressure him, so you stayed quiet as Joel finished buckling his belt.

 You pushed the blanked to cover yourself and hide from Joel’s eyes, but he noticed.

“Hey, what is it?” He asked in a soft tone, sitting in the bed next to you.

“Nothing.” You lied. “I’m just tired.”

He didn’t seemed to buy it, but he nodded and placed his hand over your knee.

“I wish I could stay here with you” He said. “But I can’t leave them alone.”

“It’s okay, Joel, you don’t have to.”

“I wanted to, tough.” He sighed and leaned in.

Joel was coming to your lips, but at the last second, you turned your head and he kissed your cheek. He stared down at you for a moment.

“Y/n? Are you…Are we…Did I do something wrong?”

Joel tiled his head and gave you a puzzled look, trying to understand your twist on behaviour.

“No” You were perfect, Joel. It’s just, well, I…I wanted to see you again, you know. I don’t want you to avoid me as soon as you regret it.”

Before he could even say something, you spoke again.

“It’s okay that you don’t want to. I understand.”

“Who said I didn’t? And who said I regret it?”

Joel held your face in his hands.

“You better get ready, baby, I won’t be able to take my hand off of you for some good time yet”

You giggled.

“Is that so, old man?”

“I’ll show you who’s old” Joel said before taking you by your waist to put you on your feet in front of him. “Get dressed”

“Why?”

“I’m taking you home” He said handing you your top.

“I am home, Joel”

“My home” He explained. “Now, hurry up. I’m gonna call Sarah to make sure everything’s ok”

You smiled widely as you started to get dressed again.

Joel Miller was going to be the death of you.

[arduouslove]

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn 06

genres: hybrid, romance, found family, slow burn(ish) series rating: mature (mentions of/references to death and abuse. eventual smut) chapter warnings (may contain spoilers): mentions of death. accusations of drugging/roofie-ing. descriptions of injury to the face. the reader character cooks meat; if you don't eat meat, please think of it as them just cooking it for other people. relationship(s): ot7 x female reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

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The floor is cold when you wake up on it, though not as cold as it could be, so you must've been sleeping on the floor for at least a couple hours. As you sit up, you try to get on your knees, but find your legs tangled up in half of a throw blanket. You grumble, touching one hand to the side of your head, where you had to have laid directly on the floor rather than the throw pillow you can see pushed under the coffee table. Okay, you're definitely not telling Hoseok your head kind of hurts. He's already enough of a worrywart. Speaking of...

Looking up at the couch, you see Hoseok's sleeping face smushed against the cushion, his hair ruffled all over and his mouth slightly open. Upon closer inspection, a small wet spot of drool has grown on the couch cushion directly under his mouth. You grimace at that but quickly shake the split second of disgust away. It's just saliva; it'll wash out just fine.

You untangle yourself from the blanket, and when you stand up, you drape it over Hoseok's sleeping form as quietly as you can. Yawning, you head to the kitchen, first filling your kettle and turning it on, then moving to the other side of the counter and unplugging your phone from the wall. As the screen flicks on, you see a missed call from Lee Minhyuk from only a few minutes ago, and a text from him that followed soon after.

It seems I forgot to leave one last thing to you. I found it in our storage this morning. I'll be in my office all day if you'd like to come and pick it up. Otherwise, please let me know by phone call.

As professional as always, this guy. Glancing over at the microwave, you take note that it's only 8:56AM, which isn't that early for someone like him, but still. Lee Minhyuk is punctual, you'll give him that. Well, you suppose if you head out soon, you could get back before ten, depending on what it is Minhyuk forgot to give you. Some paperwork, maybe. He did say before that Mr. Jung had liquidated everything he owned other than the motel... You wonder what it could be.

Not wanting to wake your two house guests up, you stop the kettle before it can beep to signal that it's boiled and pour the hot water over a tea bag in a to-go mug to let it steep while you get changed. You sneak on tip-toes back to your room, and you move your hand as deftly as possible on your bedroom doorknob, focusing on your feet as you step in and close the door behind you. Bee-lining to your dresser, you tug off your pyjamas and pull on some fresh clothes as quietly as you can.

But when you turn around, Jimin is sitting up in your bed and looking at you with a frown.

"Oh my gosh!" You jump and pat a hand over your heart, taking a sharp breath in at the sudden sight of him. He barely reacts, just raising one of his eyebrows at you, his bottom half still snug under the comforter. "How long were you just sitting there?"

Eyes still half closed, Jimin says, "Long enough."

"Oh. Well..." Embarrassment trickles along your veins knowing he watched you trying to quietly sneak in. He looks too tired and uninterested to care about the fact that you changed right in front of him, though. There goes your confidence in your own sex appeal. "...Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine." His words come out short and curt, and you can't quite pinpoint why, but you get a weird feeling as you try not to narrow your eyes. He flips the covers off himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, using his hands at his sides to push himself off and stand. His eyes dart around your room. "Where are my clothes?"

You blink. "Oh. They're in a hamper in the bathroom. I was planning on putting them through the wash and then making something to eat." Of course, stopping by Lee Minhyuk's office threw a tiny wrench in those plans, but still, you weren't expecting this from Jimin as soon as he woke up. Whatever this is.

Just as he tries to exit your bedroom, you move to stand between him and the door, your hand held up. Jimin stops himself before either of you touch, and he frowns slightly when you go, "Whoa, hold on. What's the hurry?"

"I have to go back."

"Go back?" you echo, confusion tinged in your voice, but Jimin doesn't bother. He gently puts a hand on your wrist and moves you out of the way, which you let him do all too easily in your stupor. Go back? To the streets? Blinking and shaking yourself out of it, you turn to follow him into the bathroom, where you watch him find his dirty clothes at the top of the pile in the hamper. "What do you mean?"

Jimin doesn't look at you as he focuses on unbuttoning his pyjama top. "She's looking for me."

Sputtering, you completely miss the fact that Jimin is taking off his clothes right in front of you. "Rayoung?"

Even though he doesn't answer you, the determined look in his eyes tells you you're right. He slips on his old clothes and pushes past you again.

"She is?" You struggle to follow both him and his words, stepping into the main living space after him. "How do you know--"

Jimin whips around, and you almost bump into him, but your feet screech to a halt directly in front of him. He glares at you with those piercing brown eyes. "She loves me," he says.

Your mouth opens and closes like those dogs in kids movies they'd feed peanut butter to so it'd look like they were talking. You can't say what you think, no, that would be too harsh. You can't just say outright that someone who loves him wouldn't leave him to live miserably like he did. But, what can you say? You don't want him to go back to where he was, even if what he thinks of Rayoung is true... not when you have something within likeness of a solution so close to falling in your grasp. You were planning on going to the motel this evening with Hoseok -- and, ideally, Jimin -- to scope out the building better and finally figure out what the hell you're doing.

"Jimin..." You hold yourself back from reaching out to him, knowing that your touch might be the last thing he wants. "At least eat something..."

"I'm not hungry," he tells you, and with the conviction he puts behind the words, you almost believe him.

"C'mon, at least a bite--"

"No!"

Jimin's sudden volume startles you, and your eyes go wide as he pushes both hands against you, causing you both to stumble back a step. You stare at your feet for half a second before looking back up at him, a breath of a laugh tainted with disbelief puffing past your lips. "What--"

"Don't come any closer!" He wraps his arms around his chest and scrunches his eyes shut. "I don't know what was in that fucking tea, but you can't keep me here." His back turns to you. "Rayoung was right. I can't trust anyone."

Completely thrown off, you straighten up slowly, his words settling in your brain. "...Excuse me?"

Jimin says no more, simply standing there in the foyer with his back turned, shielding himself from... you.

Roused from his deep slumber, Hoseok appears next to you. His hair is tousled and pressed flat against the side of his head that he slept on, but the sight isn't as endearing as it would be if you weren't so baffled by what Jimin just said. Taking one step in front of you, Hoseok puts a hand on your arm before you've even realized you went to get closer to Jimin, one hand up and pointed at him.

"You--" Hoseok's firm grip on your arm stops you from getting far, and as he pulls you partway behind him and your shoulder bumps into his back, you lower your voice to a whisper. "You think I drugged you?"

With his head down low, Jimin still refuses to respond. His entire body trembles, fear coursing through him like rapids under his skin. Even you can see it.

But something fogs over your rationality.

"Are you serious right now? I didn't-- I would never--" You try to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in your throat and only serves to fuel this ugly feeling inside your chest. "You're delusional."

Hoseok hushes out your name, a warning of sorts, or maybe something closer to a plea. You don't hear it past the ringing in your ears.

"And it's not because of anything in my fucking tea," you continue. "No, you know why you're delusional?"

Hesitantly, Jimin turns around half-way, his frowning profile causing that awful roiling in you to flare up.

"Because even though you've been living on the streets for months, starved enough to root through restaurant trash bins, abandoned by the very person who supposedly loves you--" Something flashes across Jimin's eyes, but you have no grasp of what it is. "--you still think she's coming back for you."

No one says anything for a second -- too long, and Hoseok's hand slides down your arm and gently wraps around your wrist. You tug it out of his grasp with a sharp inhale. "So let's just go," you say, walking to where you keep your car keys. The jingle-jangle as you pick up your keys is the only sound in the apartment aside from your footsteps. "I'll take you right now. Near Antonio's, right? She left you around there and that's where you think she'll go looking for you?"

Hoseok softly calls your name again, but you don't hear him. Jimin only follows you with angry eyes.

"I was on my way out anyway," you continue. With your hand already on the doorknob, you slip on your shoes. "So yeah, I have no problem with dropping you off on your own with nowhere to go." You pull the door towards you and step out, eyes still on your feet. "Where you have no sure way of getting food."

Jimin doesn't look at you as he puts on his shoes.

"Where Hybrid Services already know your face--"

Your words choke to a stop when you look down the hall towards the elevators. That damned fluorescent yellow armband you had no business caring about a couple days ago -- two of them -- appear in your sight just a few metres away, directly in front of the apartment-next-door's open entrance, where your neighbour to the right, Anne-Marie, is talking to the two officers.

Without uttering another sound, you push Jimin back inside your apartment as quickly and overtly as you can. Unfortunately, this means you achieve that by shoving your hand in Jimin's face, but your head isn't exactly in the right place to think about hiding-someone-away etiquette.

"Wha--?! Stop--!"

"Shh!" You make frantic eye contact with Hoseok while Jimin glares daggers at you. At this point, you know you can't just go back inside yourself; both the officers and your neighbour have probably seen you already. You keep your voice as quiet as you can, hoping the boys can still hear you with their weird hybrid powers. "Both of you, not a peep. Got it?"

You don't wait for either of them to answer before you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut in their faces. As soon as you look back down the hall, both officers, a man and a woman, and Anne-Marie are looking at you.

"Good morning," you greet with a slight bow, completely unsure of what to do or say next.

Would asking some sort of question be suspicious? Or would trying to walk by and ignoring them be even worse?

Either way, you have to get to the elevator...

Before you have to decide, (or maybe after you already should've, considering the awkward silence,) Anne-Marie waves you over with a slight frown. "Leaving so early today?"

"Ah..." You nod at her with a strained smile as you walk up to her and the officers, making sure to smile and nod at them too in that weird, you're not really part of this conversation but you're standing here so I'll try to include you sort of way. "Yes, I have some errands to run this morning."

Anne-Marie doesn't question you, thank goodness, and just gestures towards the officers. "Well you should hear them out before you go," she says. "Apparently there's a feral hybrid on the loose."

"Feral hybrid?"

You don't have to fake the initial look of concern that appears on your face, but the way you deepen your frown at the flyer one of the officers hands you is definitely for show.

"Yes," he confirms, face stiff and almost bored from repeating the words so many times to all the residents in the building already. "He ran away from a hybrid clinic in the city and was last spotted in this neighbourhood."

Anne-Marie nods along as he speaks and shakes her head when he points out the area the hybrid was spotted last night on a small map included in the flyer. "So close to home..." she mutters, which he ignores.

Continuing after him, the female officer speaks up. "We're doing rounds to make sure everyone living in the area is aware of the risks of a feral hybrid, as well as inform everyone of the proper procedure."

"Which is...?"

"Do not approach," the man tells you as your eyes finally focus in on the two pictures of the feral hybrid, one from the front and another of his profile. In both photos, he's smiling, eyes bright. "It's dangerous for regular citizens to attempt to capture feral hybrids. Leave it to the professionals and call Hybrid Services upon encounter."

He doesn't look so dangerous.

His smile is wide and almost boyish, like someone told him he was posing for a photo op rather than the strange hybrid-version of a mug shot it actually is. He holds up his name placard like it's an award he's proud of. "V," it reads, then a bunch of numbers underneath. His animal ears are perked straight up, and you can't tell what kind of ears they are in the grainy black-and-white pictures, not to mention how small they look compared to Hoseok's. Still, the deepness of his smile, the happiness in his eyes and the scrunch of his nose -- you're not scared at all.

You don't say any of that, though.

"I'll keep an eye out, thank you," you say with a polite smile. "What kind of hybrid is he?"

The two share a look, the female officer grimacing before she turns back to you. "That's unfortunately classified information."

"What? Why? Wouldn't it help us be safer and more prepared if we know what he looks like?" You turn to make eye contact with Anne-Marie, who drinks in your words and nods with a slight frown towards the officers, a finger propped concernedly on her chin.

The man sighs. "As much as I agree with you, these pictures are the only images any of us have to go off of. Even Hybrid Services hasn't been informed of his sub-species. It's private information belonging to the clinic, and legally, we don't need to have it to apprehend the hybrid."

"I see..."

After thanking them again and giving your due goodbyes, you do your best not to turn around and watch the officers as you wait for the elevator. You step into the elevator, and as your finger finds the button for the ground floor, you peak down the hall and let out a breath of relief. The officers seem to have skipped your door because you already spoke to them.

It would probably be suspicious to re-enter your apartment so soon while they're still patrolling your floor, you think. The last thing you need right now is Hybrid Services finding a reason to look into you.

And, maybe, you need a minute to yourself. Just to breathe.

You hadn't meant to snap at Jimin like that, it just... So much doesn't make sense to you. You've barely had Hoseok around for a few days, but you feel as though your friendship is something already. Maybe not something to be proud of, exactly, but it's something.

Jimin... you've known him for even less time, if you could even call that "knowing" him at all. And yet, you felt this strange surge of protectiveness over him.

You really hope that isn't part of the saviour thing Hoseok spoke of before...

Sighing into the empty elevator, you try not to think about the fact that it probably is, and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Your car keys are still in your hand, the shape imprinted into your palm from how hard your nerves had made you grip them between your fingers while you talked to the officers.

You take the coward's route and run away.

Lee Minhyuk's office building isn't that far in terms of distance, but the traffic around it is pure hell. It gives you much too much time alone with only your thoughts. You try to drown them out with whatever is on the radio, but even that can't seem to calm the disquiet within you. The more you think about the things you said, the more regret builds in your gut. What right did you have to say those things to Jimin? Sure, you think it's a fool's dream to believe this Rayoung girl is out there searching for him, but to purposefully shut him down like that? To crush that dream just because you got offended by emotions he was completely valid in feeling? Just because he's been scarred by humans before and you happen to be one? It's not his fault that he thought you might've drugged him, it's a product of--

"Ah, you're here."

Blinking, you realize that your body went on autopilot and walked you up to Lee Minhyuk's office without you knowing, and you watch his back as he goes to sit at his desk.

"Yeah I... got your text," you say dazedly, unsure of anything else you could possibly say in the moment.

"Well, it's good that you came. I wouldn't want you to go without this." Minhyuk holds his hand out, and you step closer to his desk to let him drop whatever the thing he forgot is in your awaiting palm.

A single key stares up at you, attached by a small ring to a simple metal tag.

Silver Meadows Columbarium, it reads.

"Oh."

Moving the key to your fingers, you flip over the tag and read lot C 258 on the back. You'd never heard of Silver Meadows Columbarium before. Never needed to...

"I believe Mr Jung set up his..." Minhyuk pauses as he mulls over his word choice. "...accommodations before he passed."

You can't help but ask, "Just him? No family, or...?"

Your words trail off, both of you knowing that Mr Jung left you as his sole beneficiary. If he had family, he didn't leave them anything. Not even the location of his remains.

Minhyuk shakes his head, and you frown.

"He prepared for his own death all by himself?"

Your concern is met with a small, understanding smile on Minhyuk's face. "Well, he may have done the paperwork himself, but he wasn't alone. He had you."

"But I--" You hardly knew Mr Jung.

"He brought you up more than once," Minhyuk says, making you close your mouth and blink stupidly at him. At your silence, he continues. "He came to my office a few times to sign the papers and whatnot, and he mentioned you every time. Always said you're the only one who laughs at his jokes."

"They're funny!"

Your own response jars you a bit. The last time you said that, you thought Mr Jung was alive.

Minhyuk only smiles again, softly. "He was happy you thought so."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but I it wasn't hard to tell. Don't get too caught up in the fact that Jung didn't have blood relatives he wanted to include in his will. Evidently--" He gestures to you. "--he had a family of sorts."

Except that you weren't it. You couldn't be, right?

A seedling plants itself in the forefront of your mind.

A seedling named Hoseok.

That's must be it -- Mr Jung wanted to leave his estate to Hoseok, but couldn't figure out how to, legally. Hybrids probably can't even have bank accounts, much less accept inheritance, which is why Mr Jung defaulted to you. He trusted you to help Hoseok start up Heaven's Door as the legal owner of the land it's built on.

In his letter, he'd said it's that it's you, whatever that means.

You look down at the key in your hand, taking a deep breath in. It might not be the key to Heaven's Door Motel, but you clutch it in your fingers, and as you step out of Lee Minhyuk's office, you make a silent promise to Mr Jung.

You'll get Heaven's Door up and running.

And you'll do a damn good job of it too.

=

When you return to your apartment, you have a brown paper bag of fresh pastries in your hand and a heavy something in your chest. You tried to figure out what you want to say to the two hybrids in your place on your way home, but it's hard. You feel like all you keep doing is messing up. Now, you even ran off without a word after seeing the Hybrid Services officers, which had to have freaked Hoseok out.

You grimace as you twist the doorknob. Less than an hour ago, you'd resolved yourself to running Heaven's Door with everything you've got, but are you really the right person for the job?

When you enter, you go to call out for Hoseok, but you freeze with your mouth partially open. The guys stand ramrod straight in front of you, Hoseok with a slight smile and Jimin with a hesitant clench of his jaw, arms crossed. You gape at them for a couple seconds until Hoseok frowns at Jimin and jabs his elbow into his side.

"Ow! What the--"

"Don't you have something to say?" Hoseok prompts through his teeth, a harsh grit to the question.

Jimin huffs, his arms shifting in front of his chest, hands holding his own arms a little tighter. He meets your eyes. "I'm--"

"Wait." You hold up a hand to stop him, not missing the confusion that flashes across Hoseok's face. Something like panic reflects in Jimin's eyes when he sneaks a glance at Hoseok, but you don't acknowledge it. "Let's talk." With the hand still holding the paper bag, you gesture towards the couch. "Have a seat. Both of you."

Jimin doesn't move until Hoseok does, following silently while Hoseok watches you out of the corner of his eye as he sits down.

You set the pastries on the kitchen table before making your way to them, stopping in front of the couch and chewing over your thoughts. Jimin regards you with a half-frown, brows knitted in apparent distrust. You can't really blame him.

If your ears were better, you might've heard the slight gasp Hoseok let out when you dropped to your knees, bent down, and pressed your forehead to your hands, which are now flat on the floor. You bow in front of them, let out a breath, and raise your head once you gather your thoughts, putting your hands respectfully on your lap. "I'm sorry," you say. "I fucked up."

Hoseok's ears twitch, dipping, and he scoots forward on the cushion, about to say something, but you don't let him.

"Jimin, I want to apologize for this morning. I had no right to react the way I did." You look at Jimin, but you can't read his face. "It's not your fault if humans have hurt you enough to make you think we're all the same. People can be... horrible. I wish things were different, but... I want you to know that I will never intentionally hurt you--" Your eyes meet Hoseok's. "--either of you. I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to force or coerce you into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to be the kind of human you're afraid of."

Hoseok shakes his head. "I'm not afraid--"

"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," you say, wincing as you realize you've spoken over him, but when he doesn't speak up again, you continue. "I honestly feel like a walking disaster with how many times I've fucked up, and it's only been a couple days. Sometimes I speak before I think, and I really need to work on that. I'm sorry."

You don't know when you started staring into your lap, but you let out a long breath, and only after that do you slowly look up at the two hybrids. They both wear blank expressions, and it makes you want to shrink back in on yourself. "I just--"

"I lied," Jimin blurts out, and you face him, eyes slightly widening.

"...Lied? About what?"

Sighing, Jimin casts a glance at Hoseok, who nods determinedly. He fidgets with his hands, looking at them rather than meeting your eyes. "I guess, technically, Rayoung isn't looking for me right now," he mumbles. "But she will. As soon as she breaks up with her stupid tool boyfriend."

"Oh." You blink at Jimin. "Well, um... You're welcome to stay with us. Until then, I mean."

Jimin's lips form into a contemplative pout, but he says nothing.

You scratch the back of your neck. Is there a good way to approach this? "We could, um... let her know somehow? That you're with us."

You eye Hoseok, who's hopefully in the same boat for you to be saying we. He wasn't exactly Jimin's biggest fan last night, weird possessiveness over pyjama sets aside. Now, though, you see that even he can tell this Rayoung girl is bad news. Still, Jimin's ties to her seem to run deep, and you know it's nowhere near simple to tell someone a person they love isn't as great as they thought.

Jimin takes a deep breath in, his shoulders scrunching up as his body tenses and relaxes. "Can I... think about it?"

"Of course!" You perk up at the idea of him even considering your offer after the way you snapped this morning, and you point at the brown paper bag on the table. "Do you want to have breakfast while you think?"

While Jimin marks a straight line to the kitchen, Hoseok holds his hand out for you before you even move to get up. You take it, and he uses his other hand to gently grasp your elbow and lift you onto your feet. He doesn't let go right away, instead holding both your hands and whispering, "You shouldn't have gone out alone." He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. "You're still concussed."

The proximity combined with his concern for you causes heat to stir in your chest. It's uncomfortable and foreign, so you try to force it down, smiling and letting out a chuckle that screams casual. You hope. "I can hold my own. Besides, I think I'm all better; right as rain up here." You pull one of your hands out of his tender hold and curl it into a fist, knocking on your cranium like a door. Except, the impact makes your brain swish around in your skull like gargled fluoride. "Whoa-- shit."

You sway, tipping the direction you knocked your own head into. Hoseok keeps you standing, but he doesn't like it. "You just proved my point."

"Listen--"

"From now on, no going off on your own," he says, and from his tone, there's no point in a rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, and, whoa, does the room always spin when you do that? Still, even wooziness can't stopper your sarcasm. "Protective much?"

"Kind of my job description."

"I thought I was your bodyguard," you tease, and he chuckles, his seriousness evaporating with the sound.

"As if--"

"You're dumb."

You and Hoseok both turn towards the kitchen, where Jimin stands next to the table with a half eaten pastry in his mouth. Ignoring the glare he's under from Hoseok, which you don't notice, he speaks around the pastry. "Only a dumb person would go out on their own in your condition."

Even though you're pretty sure he should be on the same side as Jimin on this, Hoseok sneers at him, the slightest of growls rumbling in his throat.

Jimin holds up a hand, mockingly. "Easy, pup."

"I'm older than you, punk!"

You can't help it; you laugh. Jimin is all over the place, accusing you of atrocities one second and talking to you and Hoseok like you're long-time friends the next. The two hybrids cease their bickering at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay, okay." You take a breath to stop the giggles threatening to break past your lips. "New temporary house rule: no one should go off on their own unless they have to."

Jimin raises a brow. "No one?"

"Ideally." You nod. "Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. When the Hybrid Services officers were here before, they were telling everyone there's a feral hybrid in the area. The entire neighbourhood is going to be on alert-- I don't know how kindly they'll take to finding any unregistered or, uh, stray hybrids if they run into either of you alone."

Nodding along, Hoseok rubs his chin with his thumb. "Makes sense."

"They know what the hybrid looks like, but we don't know how much they actually care about the picture. Who knows if they'd just nab any male hybrid off the street," you say. "It's probably best to play it safe; at least while we're still in the neighbourhood."

"What do you mean, 'still in the neighbourhood'?" Jimin asks, curious.

You smack your own forehead and ignore the way Hoseok immediately brings his hands up like you're going to knock yourself over any second now. "Right, uh... We're kind of..." Bringing up a hand, you gesture between yourself and Hoseok. "...prospective business owners? Is that--? No, we're, uh...starting up a motel? But, like, for hybrids?"

Hoseok is decidedly unhelpful with explaining what Heaven's Door is meant to be, staying silent and just making a face as you botch it.

"Anyway, it might be safer if we head out there sooner rather than later if the neighbourhood is getting paranoid over stray hybrids. It's outside of the city, and Hybrid Services doesn't do patrols out there. I was thinking to move once I'd figured more shit out, but I didn't think the whole 'feral hybrid' thing would happen today, and I definitely didn't foresee meeting you." Not that anything that's happened to you in the last few days could've been foreseen, either. You smile at Jimin. "But hey, at least you were a pleasant surprise."

"Didn't I threaten to kill you?."

You shrug. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"And your guard dog attacked me."

"After you attacked her!" Hoseok argues.

Clicking his tongue, Jimin gives his head a nod. "Point taken."

"Anyhow," you continue on. "While you think about what you wanna do, I'd like you to come with us. Of course, you're free to refuse. I still have two-ish weeks of rent paid for this place, so you could stay here, but..." You share a look with Hoseok, then return your eyes to Jimin.

"...I'd be alone?" he finishes for you.

"I guess I'd just feel better if you're with us."

Jimin seems to absorb your words, but he stays silent for a few seconds. He tosses the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing quietly and brushing his hands together to get rid of the leftover crumbs. He takes a breath. "I guess I sort of owe you for the food and the bed I slept in last night... The least I can do is make you feel better."

Your cheeks make way for a beaming smile.

"Just while I think about it."

You school yourself. "Right! Right," you say, clearing your throat of any enthusiasm that might've gotten clogged in there. "Just while you're thinking about it. Nothing's set in stone."

=

Either Hoseok calls shotgun outside of your hearing range, or Jimin silently sits in the backseat of your car out of some unfounded sense of regularity. He doesn't speak a word as you drive, just watches the world pass by through the side window. You can't really see him in the rear view mirror, and most of your focus is on the road, but there are a few moments where you catch his fingers scratching at his arms before he flexes his hands and stops. You're reminded of the red, bumpy skin you saw on his arms. Now, it's covered by his shirt and jacket, both of which you convinced him to let you wash before you all left your apartment.

"I don't think this is the right way..." Hoseok says, squinting at the street signs as you drive out of the inner city.

"Yeah, uh." You'd looked up the address to Silver Meadows before you left, and it's practically on the other side of the city as Heaven's Door. "There's somewhere I wanted to go first. You know how I left this morning?"

Hoseok nods.

"Well, it wasn't just to throw a tantrum, if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought maybe you were trying to get those Hybrid Services officers to think you were going somewhere, so they'd think no one was in your apartment," Hoseok says, making your eyebrows rise on your forehead.

"Wow, you're pretty intuitive, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the backseat, but you can't see Jimin's face since he's sitting right behind you. "Were you guys able to hear that whole conversation in the hallway?"

Jimin scoffs, something sarcastic in the simple sound, while Hoseok nods again. "It's weird how even they don't know the species of the feral hybrid," he says. "Without that information, they'd go after any stray hybrid they encounter -- not that they weren't doing that already."

"But they might treat any stray like they're feral and dangerous," you finish the thought process for him, and when you meet his eyes, he sports a grim expression. You roll your shoulders back, sighing. "It's a good enough reason to stay on our toes, but hopefully we won't run into any trouble outside of my neighbourhood..."

And, hopefully, the feral hybrid doesn't get found by anyone less than civil. The cheerful face of that hybrid flashes across your mind, and you wonder about his circumstances. What makes a hybrid go feral, anyway? What made him run away from the hybrid clinic? How much of the information the officers gave you is a stretching of the truth?

"So where did you go?" Hoseok asks when you make another unfamiliar turn.

"Lee Minhyuk texted me -- he was Mr Jung's estate lawyer." You add that in to give Jimin some context, but you're not sure if he's even listening. "He forgot to give me the key for Mr Jung's niche."

Hoseok's brows furrow as he echoes you. "Niche?"

"It's what they call the individual sections in a columbarium," you explain, not too informed yourself, but you know enough. You take Hoseok's silence as him not filling the gaps quite yet. "Mr Jung's urn is being kept in one. Lot C, niche 258, at Silver Meadows Columbarium."

"Oh." Hoseok doesn't exactly slump in his seat, but you see the way his shoulders sag just the slightest. "He was cremated?"

You nod, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I hadn't thought about it much. I'd assumed his family was dealing with all the..." Breathing out a long exhale through your nose, you try to think of the right words. (And come up with nothing.) "...well, that kind of stuff. But apparently I'm the only one with the key."

"Mr Jung never talked about any family..." Hoseok mumbles.

A road sign ahead reads Silver Meadows, and you slow down to turn into the lot.

"You're not bringing flowers?"

You turn your head at Jimin's sudden question, surprised since he was quiet the whole drive. He meets your eyes.

"You're visiting a grave, and you didn't bring flowers?" he asks, arms crossed.

"Oh." You look downward. "I hadn't thought about that..."

Jimin doesn't say anything, and you've run out of words yourself. Does it make sense to go back to buy some? You think about Mr Jung, and far above wanting to go get flowers for him now, you wish you could've brought him one back then. When he could see it.

You find a parking spot and switch off the engine.

"It's okay," Hoseok says before any of you exit the car. He's not looking at you, though. "We can bring flowers next time."

You watch him step out of the car, and as he does, he pulls his collar out of his pocket and fastens it around his neck, clasping the metal ends together before he shuts the car door behind him. Before you'd left the apartment, you told him to bring it, but you forgot about it during the drive.

"Oh, right. Jimin." You twist in your seat and reach into your bag, finding the red velvet choker you'd stuffed in there earlier. You've never really worn it since someone gave it to you however long ago, and you just hastily grabbed it from your room before you all left the apartment. You hold it out for him. "Wear this for now. It's not technically a collar, but... no one will be looking too closely. I hope."

Jimin frowns, but he takes the choker. "Can't I just stay in the car?"

You don't want to pressure him, but you can't help the grimace that crosses your face. "I feel safer together..."

"Fine," he huffs, bringing his hands up to fasten the choker. "You're lucky this is cute."

By the time you both catch up to Hoseok, he's already found the directions to lot C. He walks silently, and when he finds niche 258, you and Jimin hang a bit back, giving him a moment.

This section of the columbarium is indoors, and the walls and niches seem to be white marble, or made to look like white marble. Whichever it is, it feels a bit... cold.

Mr Jung's niche is empty, save for the black urn inside. Jimin was probably right -- some flowers would at least bring some life to the space.

Hoseok stands in front of the niche, which is embedded in the wall at around the height of his chest. His arms hang limp at his sides. You step up beside him, and you take his hand, gently, bringing it up so you can push the key into his palm.

"I think he meant to give this to you." And everything else, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. That's a lot to put on someone all at once.

You would know.

Hoseok holds his hand in front of him, staring at the key. He looks up at you and meets your eyes with his watery ones. "You think so?"

"Of course I do." You put a hand on Hoseok's shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his coat. "You said Mr Jung never talked about any family, right? That's because you were his family."

Sniffling, Hoseok bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he breaks eye contact and returns to looking at Mr Jung's niche. "I... I wish he wasn't this far away. He made it so much harder to visit."

"Hey..." Gently, you use your hand on his shoulder to turn Hoseok toward you, then put both your hands on his arms and give him a reassuring squeeze. A tear threatens to roll down his cheek, but you reach up at thumb it away. "I know you probably knew Mr Jung better than I did, but... something in me thinks he'd want to say..." You turn your head to look at the niche, smile, and shake your head. "He's not in there." Bringing a hand up, you softly poke the pad of your pointer finger between Hoseok's eyebrows. "He's in here." You move to his chest and poke at where his heart should be. "And here." Finally, you take both his hands, a bit awkward with the one still holding the key, and hold them between you. "And that's what matters, right?"

Hoseok nods, but his face crumples up, and he tucks it into your neck. You wrap your arms around him just as his embrace you tight. Over his shoulder, you glance at Jimin, who quickly looks away, but you know he was watching. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, suddenly very interested in his worn out shoes.

"But we can still visit, right?" Hoseok mumbles into your skin, bringing your attention back to him.

"Of course. And next time, we'll bring flowers."

=

As you slide into one of the parking spots in front of Heaven's Door, it occurs to you that this is the first time you're seeing it in the daylight. All of its mediocre glory. The outer walls are a faded yellow, with supporting pillars and railings on the second floor landing which were once white. The doors to the individual rooms are a nice dark green that matches the roofing, but you have to admit they've seen better days. Still, you can feel the potential the old building blooms in your chest.

"Not too bad, hey?" you say to Jimin, who's leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats to peer out the windshield at the place.

He sniffs. "It's no Plaza Hotel."

"You've been?"

"No, I've seen Home Alone 2."

Chuckling, you pull your car key out of the ignition and exit the car. You put your hands on your hips, inhaling a big, exaggerated breath as you take in the motel. Hoseok walks over and stands next to you, arms crossed.

"Well," you say. "It might be a bit of a fixer-upper, but that's nothing a couple of fixer-uppers like us can't handle, right?" You bump your shoulder into Hoseok, who smiles at you and bumps back with his hip. You stumble a bit, but Jimin's hand on your back stops you from swaying too hard. When you take your eyes off your feet, he meets your eyes with a plain expression.

"You guys are disgustingly optimistic."

A hand on his shoulder, you grin. "You just named one of my best traits!"

=

The move into Heaven's Door is by no means smooth, but you can't say it's not something you expected.

The first thing you notice is the broken window in the convenience store under the motel lobby, which you'd missed that first night in the dark. Hoseok sheepishly admits that he'd had to break in to eat the snack food inside. You don't push it -- that void of time between losing Mr Jung and meeting you isn't a topic you think is worth diving into if it's going to bring Hoseok back to that time. The window won't be cheap, but if you don't put a custom decal on it like the shattered one on the ground, it might not be as expensive.

Secondly, Hoseok leads you and Jimin to the master room you remember Mr Jung mentioning in his letter, and you realize you'd only seen the motel from one side. Behind the lobby, which has a lot of that same forest green as the doors outside, Hoseok shows you the half of the building you had no idea about before. An entire branch extends behind the lobby, about the same length as the front, but instead of the entrances to each room facing outside like the ones you saw before, there are doors mirroring each other on both sides of a hallway. Immediately to the right is the master room, but at the end of the hallway seems to be a common area with couches and coffee tables, and two walls lined with a counter and cabinets. Hoseok tells you it's the same downstairs, except the end of the hall is a kitchen and dining area. It reminds you of a college dorm.

If anyone stayed in the rooms you saw out front, you don't think they'd even notice this half of the building.

The master room is smaller than your apartment, but it has its own half-kitchen and en suite bathroom with a pretty nice shower. Hoseok explains to you that most of Mr Jung's time and focus went into building and upgrading the interior of Heaven's Door, which is why it has its less than shiny exterior.

You can tell Hoseok was staying in the master room up until you... kidnapped(?) him.

"This is probably the nicest room in the motel, huh?" Jimin posits, walking inside with his hands in his pants pockets. He's wearing the clothes he met you in, now washed but no less worn down.

You nod. "Probably. We're a bit far from the city, so it would make sense for the owner to just live here."

"Dibs." Jimin flops down face first into the bed.

Hoseok crosses his arms. "Yah."

As you fail to hide your laughter behind your hand, Jimin squirms in the bed, twisting himself so he lies on his back. He stretches his arms and legs out like a sea star. "Smells too much like dog here, though."

While Hoseok sneers, you say, "Probably because this is Hoseok's room. You and I can take the rooms next door and across the hall."

"Why would I wanna be next door to you?" Jimin closes his eyes and interlocks is fingers behind his head, fully relaxing into the bed.

You let out an affronted scoff. Your hand goes up to your chest, right over your heart even though Jimin can't see it. "Um, my amazing company and charming personality?"

"Pass."

As you and Jimin go through this back-and-forth, you miss the way Hoseok's face fell when you said you'd be in a different room. His disheartened expression goes unnoticed, and when you stand up, proclaiming there's a lot of work to be done, he smiles at you with all the sunshine he can muster.

You're none the wiser.

=

Aside from the horrors (the mere idea of business management, the building maintenance, the absolute atrocity that is dealing with plumbing, the phone calls, etc, etc,) at least it's fun to print keys. Hoseok apparently never figured the system out because Mr Jung took care of getting it installed, but half an hour on the computer, and you manage to print a key for both yourself and Jimin. He chooses the room across from the master, while you're right next to it.

Hoseok insists on him and Jimin carrying all the food you'd brought inside, but to appease your need to take part, he lets you carry one item for each trip from your car to the common kitchen area. (You find this a little patronizing, but it is admittedly nice to be doted on by them both, even if Jimin's still pretending he doesn't care.)

((He takes a bag you were reaching for, despite already having both his hands full.))

Much of your things are still back at your apartment, but you have time to bring them over. The first day is mostly about getting Hoseok and Jimin out of dodge -- you can worry about your own problems later. You spend the afternoon sitting in the lobby, poring over the paperwork left there and googling motel business 4 dummies like your life depends on it. Hoseok, who'd been cleaning up his room and taking care of the broken glass outside (and inside, unfortunately) the convenience store, forces you to take a break in the form of helping him make dinner.

During dinner, unprompted, Jimin tells you he's still thinking.

It hasn't slipped by you, of course, that Jimin's stay with you is conditional and, lest you hope otherwise, temporary.

But when he says that, staring into his food rather than looking at you, a tiny smile makes it's way onto your face,

"Take all the time you need."

=

On the third night, you wake up to soft knocks on your door. You have no expectations because your brain is in the process of trying to dissect the dream you'd just been ripped out of, but seeing Hoseok on the other side of your door still isn't something you were prepared for. He's wearing the new, new pyjamas you'd bought for him in a sparse shopping trip you'd all gone on the second day, despite him saying he didn't care that much about Jimin wearing the other ones.

You go to say his name, but he just brings a finger up to his lips in a silent shush, and with his other hand, he gently takes your hand and leads you down the hall into the master room.

Nothing in your body wants to fight it, so you let him bring you right up to the bed. He practically pushes you onto it, but the way he pulls the warm comforter over you defies any ill intent. When he settles in on the other side of the bed, his breath puffs against your cheek. He hasn't really scented you since the day you met Jimin; you've been near each other almost constantly since, so there was really no reason to.

You remember him telling you it's about separation, but also not. He never did tell you more about it.

In your sleep-ridden haze, you shift to your side. Hoseok is on his side too, rather close, and his eyes are closed, but you know he can't have fallen asleep so fast. Gently, you bring a hand to the back of his head, careful, as always, not to touch his dingo ears. You pull him closer ever so slowly. If he resists at all, you'll let go.

Hoseok lets out a shaking breath. He wraps both arms around you and tugs you closer, his face pressing itself against your neck. Eyes still closed, he squeezes you close. It's warm.

That's right, you think.

He’s a strong little pup, but he hates being alone.

How did you manage to forget that?

=

If Jimin has anything to say about the fact that you've started to retire to the master room at the end of the day, he doesn't vocalize it. Hoseok never brings it up, either. He's hardly touchy during the daytime, keeping his hands to himself, especially in front of Jimin. Yet, when night comes, he pulls you to bed like he's done it his entire life and keeps his arms around you until you fall asleep and wake up to find him all tangled up in the sheets.

Jimin either hasn't noticed, or, as you suspect, he doesn't care.

He'll often say he's "still thinking about it". You're not quite sure how to respond to it every time, so now you just smile and nod, sometimes reminding him that the choice is still his.

One night, you find him in the common area, sitting on a couch and watching a muted cartoon on the tv you'd connected to your Netflix account the day before. The subtitles aren't even on, and when he turns at the sound of your footsteps, you see the red of his eyes, and the shining tracks on his cheeks.

There's still a lot you don't know about Jimin.

Rayoung. Her boyfriend. His red contacts and why he wore them.

"It's freezing in here," is all he says as he wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. "You should get the heating system checked."

You sit down next to him, neither of you looking at each other. "Feels normal to me."

The cartoon isn't one you recognize, but it looks like it could be fun if you knew what anyone was saying.

For a while, you and Jimin say nothing. He sits next to you, and you next to him. At some point, he shifts just the slightest bit closer so your shoulders brush against each other. That's as far as he goes for your body heat.

"Do you get cold easily?" you eventually whisper.

"Mhmm."

"Is that a snake thing?"

Jimin shakes his head, slowly, the late hour finally getting to him. "Some reptile hybrids are like that, some aren't. There aren't many of us, so people don't really know why. At least... that's what he told me."

He. You decide not to dig into that. Jimin will tell you if he wants to.

"Your scales... the skin around them seemed irritated."

"...Itchy..." Jimin's head falls to your shoulder. He doesn't snuggle in, but he rests there. "I had a cream for it..."

"We should buy some," you say.

"It's expensive... You shouldn't buy it if I'm going to leave soon..."

Though his words cause a muted ache in your heart, you don't stew on it. That was always the case.

"You can take it with you."

Jimin doesn't respond, asleep on your shoulder.

You're not sure how much time passes, but later, you hear light, shuffling footsteps behind you, and you turn your head towards the sound, careful not to jostle the slumbering Jimin on your shoulder. Hoseok stands there, eyes half closed but on you nonetheless.

"You left," he mumbles, swaying slightly like he's struggling to stay both awake and upright.

You give him a small smile, lit only by the tv that's still playing that cartoon you don't know the name of. "I didn't go very far."

"Come back to bed?"

Gently, you lift a hand and gesture at Jimin. "Can we bring him back to his, first?"

=

When you're sent the invoice for the window repair, you realize (not for the first time) this won't be easy.

You didn't think it'd be a walk in the park, of course not, but you've never really had to worry about the cost of running a business before. Now, you look at the numbers, and you just can't wrap your head around how it'll all work. Mr Jung left you a considerable amount, yes, but... will it be enough? You can't imagine the motel is in any high level of traffic area for travellers. There are quite a few campsites around in the surrounding forest, but that's about it. How many customers would it take monthly to support the motel? How much has to or even can be sacrificed before any income is made?

You've already spent so much on keeping you, Hoseok, and Jimin alive and warm for the past week. It's normal, you suppose, but you've never supported two dependants before, and the fact that you're currently unemployed doesn't settle the heavy feeling in your chest at all. You're draining your savings while not making any money in the meantime.

A safe haven for hybrids...

...who can't pay rent.

Maybe Mr Jung was older and more senile than you thought.

You shake your head and rub your hands over your face, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. First, you gotta apologize to Mr Jung for disrespecting the dead. You might be cynical, but he had a dream. A really good and nice dream. Secondly, you scold yourself for thinking what you did about hybrids. Of course they can't pay rent. They were born into a system that actively discourages their financial (and pretty much every other kind of) autonomy. They can't pay for anything because of humans.

Still, you don't know how long you can keep running Heaven's Door on your inheritance alone. You haven't even opened yet -- how much will it cost to run for a month? Three? A year?

"Do the numbers change if you sigh hard enough?"

You turn in your swivel chair to glare at Jimin, who's sitting in the chair next to you with one leg folded up to his chest, foot propped up on the seat. He doesn't return your gaze, enraptured by the match-three game he's playing on your phone, which he's been going at rather consistently for the past two days. You don't really have a job for him right now, and aside from the tv, he doesn't have much to take up his time. You'd offered to grab the contents of your bookshelf back at home for him, but he'd casually refused, telling you he'd take a look next time you make the trip, but not to go out of your way.

"Maybe they will," you taunt back, which goes just as ignored as your glare. "I better sigh harder to test it out."

You tilt your head, looking at your phone in his hand. "Should I get you guys phones...?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Jimin's eyes glance up, and he finally acknowledges you. He doesn't need to say it. He does anyway.

"I'm still thinking."

Curling your lips in, you nod, turning back to the computer and hovering your hands over the mouse and keyboard even though you have no plans on what to do with them. "Right. Right..."

Thankfully, Hoseok chooses that awkward moment to walk into the lobby. "You should take a break," he says. "How is your head feeling?"

"It's fine, doc." You roll your eyes, smiling. "Just as fine as I said it was yesterday."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

You shake your head. "The doctor said they're for headaches. They're just painkillers -- the few times my head has hurt, the pain went away by the time I remembered I could take them."

Jimin lowers your phone and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. It's not positive; you know that at least. "You're still getting headaches?"

"Only itty-bitty ones," you try to placate them.

"How long has it been since you fell?"

You almost forgot you lied to Jimin about how you got your concussion. By the looks of Hoseok's guilty expression, though, you're not sure if you regret it. You don't want him to feel responsible, but talking about it -- whether or not Jimin knows -- still seems to remind him of what he did. Where you put the blame doesn't matter to him. He still thinks it's his fault.

"Uhh... a little over a week?" you answer, keeping a careful eye on Hoseok. "Maybe eight or nine days."

Jimin frowns. "That can't be good, right?"

"The doctor said to go back to the hospital if the symptoms last over two weeks." Concern laced in his features, Hoseok crosses his arms.

You nod along. "I'll put the date on my calendar, okay? I'm sure I'll be fine by then."

"You better not play it down when the time comes," Hoseok warns.

"Yes sir," you joke.

Hoseok takes in a sharp breath, shoulders scrunching up for half a second before he forces them to relax. A small huff of a laugh escapes Jimin's nose, and you look at him in confusion, but his eyes are on Hoseok, something playful and teasing in them. Jimin mouths something to Hoseok, which you can't read.

Hoseok grumbles and tightens the arms crossed in front of him. "Shut up."

"No fair," you whine. "You guys already have inside jokes?"

Jimin just laughs harder while Hoseok gives him a death glare and says, "It doesn't count as an inside joke if I don't find it funny."

"Don't worry," Jimin teases through a smirk. "I find it funny enough for the both of us!"

You can't help but smile at the ever-growing amity between the two hybrids, which is admittedly playful in the biting way, but it still makes you happy that they're somewhat getting along.

=

"We should celebrate," you tell the boys one day.

"Celebrate what?" Jimin questions, hands stuffed in his coat pocket and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You'd gone around the back of the motel and found a paved, patio-like area, complete with five wooden picnic tables, propane patio heaters, and an old-looking but (probably) functional barbecue, but Jimin isn't exactly a fan of the cool breeze flowing through the air.

You lift the lid of the barbecue, examining the charred grates of the grill. "Well, I dunno, but it'd be a shame not to use this before it gets too cold out."

"Too late," Jimin mumbles. His lips are hidden behind the front of his coat, which he's ducked half his face into.

Hoseok ignores Jimin, nodding at your idea. "A barbecue night would be nice."

"How are you on the grill?" you ask him.

"I'm better at prepping."

You chuckle. "So basically, not good?"

"Not good," he echoes with a smile.

After sharing some giggles, you look at the barbecue again. "I'm sure I could figure this out."

"I'm going back inside," Jimin tells you both, already walking away.

"C'mon!" you call after him. "It'll be fun!"

=

Although you're in a different store now, near the edge of the city closer to the motel, the pet/hybrid aisle hosts a pretty similar collection to the store near your apartment. You pull another plain, black collar off the hook on the shelf, which matches the one currently sitting around Hoseok's neck.

He's not paying attention at all, as far as you know, instead hunched over the pushbar of the shopping cart he insisted on pushing for you, poring over the grocery list you'd written on a memo pad for tonight's "celebration".

In your mind, you've started calling it your "new friends party :D", emoticon included, but you haven't worded that out loud to either of the boys. Hoseok would surely laugh at the childishness of the name, even if he'd politely try to stifle it, and you know Jimin would only remind you that his relationship to you and Hoseok is temporary.

Mood killer, you think to Jimin, although it's the hypothetical version of him.

The real Jimin is looking at the array of collars on the shelf like you asked him to, and you step up next to him.

"What do you think?"

Jimin frowns, deep in thought. "They're all ugly."

Okay, maybe not that deep.

"Ouch," you chuckle, fingers toying with the black silk in your hand. "You don't have to wear one all the time -- just while we're in public spaces like this."

Grumbling, Jimin stuffs both his hands in his coat pockets. "In public... that's when I wanna look good."

"Okay, okay." You pat a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we can find one you like online, or something."

"Doesn't this one work?" Jimin points at his neck, fingers ghosting over the soft velvet of your red choker.

You tilt your head. "I guess... Probably."

The tags for collars have to be bought and customized separately anyway. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to put Jimin's on your choker, though attaching the tag might not be as simple as the store-bought collars. Manageable, though, you're sure.

"If you're done being picky, we should get going. The frozen meat will be rotten by the time we get to the car," Hoseok says, making Jimin roll his eyes and stick his tongue out at him.

You clap your hands together. "Ooh! We should get ice cream!"

When you bring all the groceries to the counter, you notice that Jimin keeps his head down, avoiding the eyes of the person ringing everything up. This isn't new -- Jimin seems to not like making eye contact with anyone but you or Hoseok.

He'd tossed the red contacts after one of them had an intimate meet and greet with your bedroom floor, but you can tell he doesn't like being without them. It's awful, you think, how long he wore those fake red eyes just because his owner... what, enjoyed the idea of owning a deadly hybrid?

The... exoticism?

You shiver.

On the cusp of winter time, with Jimin in a couple layers, you wouldn't even know he's a hybrid if you weren't paying attention. As far as you know, his only hybrid-defining trait is his scales, and the only ones you can see right now are on his neck. They'd easily go unnoticed to the everyday passerby.

"Your total is--"

The cashier's voice startles you, and all you can do is shake your head when they ask if you have their points reward card.

Before heading back to the motel, you make a quick stop at your apartment, telling the boys that you're just grabbing some more of your clothes and that they can wait in the car. You do grab some clothes, but you also pick up a few of your favourite books. Hopefully the boys will be able to find some entertainment in them. Recently, you discovered a recreation room in the motel, complete with a couple of exercise machines and a pool table. With how preoccupied you are with all this motel business stuff, though, you haven't had the time to play a round of pool or even think about exercising. Maybe the boys have been in there, but it seems like Hoseok is almost always somewhere around you, still weary of your condition.

It's sort of fair, you think. Dizzy spells still hit you sometimes.

Jimin, too, often sticks around somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because he likes scrolling through your phone and doesn't want to just take it and leave whatever room you're in.

Which brings you to the real reason you stopped by your apartment. You walk up to the mailboxes and pull out your key, smiling when you open your locker and find the packages you were expecting.

It's a bit of a pricey expense -- at least, for how you used to budget your life before it flipped on its head -- but you think it's worth the money. A simple phone for each of the boys, a new family plan to save on the phone bills, and a specialty reptilian hybrid eczema cream. You hope it's the right one for Jimin. You haven't seen his irritated skin since that shower due to the chilly weather, but you still catch him scratching his arms over his clothes from time to time.

You're sure if you told Jimin you wanted to buy the cream for him, he would've refused. The phone, too.

"Took you long enough," Jimin says when you dip back into the driver's seat of your car.

You chuckle. "I missed you too, Mochi."

He huffs at the nickname and crosses his arms, then turns his head to stare out the window. You don't see his faint smile.

=

"It's freezing," Jimin complains through chattering teeth, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders scrunched up practically to his ears.

You can't hold back a little laugh. "I told you, you could either help me out here with the grill, help Hoseok with prepping everything inside, or run the raw food from the kitchen to out here." Raising an eyebrow at him, you gesture towards your gloved hands and the food you're flipping on the grill with metal tongs. It is chilly out, especially since the sun set, but you're wrapped up in your own jacket, and the fire from the grill is keeping your cheeks warm. It probably feels colder to Jimin, though. "You wanna trade with me?"

He gives you a flat look. "You're kidding."

"Thought so. You wanna trade with Hoseok?"

Cringing, Jimin shakes his head. "I hate touching raw meat."

"Well, there's our answer then," you say. "Was that the last of it?"

He nods, another shiver rippling through him. It's almost endearing how red his cheeks are turning, but you know he really can't stand the cold.

"Okay, go inside and warm up. I should be done cooking everything in ten or fifteen minutes. Bring this plate in--" You point at a foil-wrapped plate of the food you've already cooked. "I can bring the rest inside once I'm finished."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly. "I thought you wanted to eat out here?" He looks at one of the picnic tables.

"Nah." You shrug. "It's way too cold for me, and the food will cool down too fast."

Elated by this news, Jimin smiles and bounces on his feet when he grabs the plate and runs it inside.

"And help Hoseok clean up the kitchen!" you yell out right before the door shuts behind him.

Truthfully, you did want to eat outside for the celebration, but it's more important to you that Jimin is comfortable and happy. After all, he's one of your new friends, and that's the whole point of tonight. You smile at the thought, excited to gift the boys their new cell phones after dinner.

Flipping some of the last pieces of meat on the grill, you hum to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand reach for the plate you have set to the side for the cooked food. It tentatively grabs one of the slices of meat and pulls it off the plate, which you let out a chuckle at.

"What, you couldn't wait a couple more minute--"

You choke to a stop, though, when you look up and see neither Hoseok nor Jimin.

Dark eyes meet yours for less than a moment before swiftly turning downward. The man stumbles back a step, but he freezes in almost the same way you do. Except, instead of his jaw dropping open like yours does, he pauses mid-chew, the frisked meat still in between his teeth.

That's not what makes your breath hitch, though.

Even under the blackened sky, you can see the bruises.

A dark, deep purple sits boldly under is left eye, the surrounding skin a sickening blend of yellow and green that winds up all the way to his brow. His chin sports another bruise in a similar state, like the blows had been a couple days ago and the skin has gone through only the first stages of healing. Although his face is grimy with sweat and dirt, you can see crusted blood just at his hairline before his black hair hides anything else. You can tell his lip was completely busted at some point, marred with dark, dried blood that's been split over and over again and given no chance to heal.

Even his stance looks like he's in pain. Like he's trying to make himself look smaller.

You swallow the shock down, the words not coming out. "I..."

He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice. Both of his hands shoot up, palms flat and facing you. "Sorry-- I'm sorry," he mumbles and winces, like it hurts to speak. His voice is scratchy and rasping.

He backs up further while you try to find something to say, something to do, but before you can do anything, he runs off the patio and disappears into the treeline, a clear limp in his movement.

"Wait!" you call out, but he's gone.

Maybe it was the injuries that made you want to go after him. Maybe it was the way he held himself, like he didn't want to be in his own body. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled, or the fact that he definitely wasn't wearing enough for the temperature outside.

Maybe it was all that combined, but most of all, it was the pointed black ears you saw on top of his head.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

[autisticlancemcclain]

When Keith nonchalantly announces he’d found an apartment twenty minutes away and is moving out, Shiro’s heart drops to his feet. He’s so shocked that he nearly drops the spoon he’s using to feed Hana, barely managing to catch it and smearing mashed carrots on her cheeks instead.

Oops. Sorry, kiddo.

His first thought, of course, is oh, shit. Keith thinks he’s being replaced with the baby. He’s moving away because he feels unloved. I am a horrible brother slash father. What have I done.

Luckily, he manages to not say that embarrassing shit out loud, choking out instead a forced “sounds awesome, buddy!” and trying not to cry.

Yeah, that doesn’t go well. Keith is taking his time moving out, taking a few boxes at a time over several days so he doesn’t have to pay for a mover, enlisting Adam’s help to find some decent Craigslist furniture. Shiro has to lock himself in the bathroom no less than nineteen times to cry about it.

It was no big shocker that Adam gets real tired of that real quickly. Shiro was not the only one all mopey, apparently, as evidenced when Adam stomps down the stairs after putting Hana down for a nap, dragging Keith by the ear, and shoving both of them into the kitchen with a set jaw and his patented Glare of Judgement.

“Both of you are so, so stupid,” he says, which is not an uncommon occurrence but does make both of them protest at the exact same time. Adam holds up a hand, silencing them.

“Shut up. Listen to me. Both of you have been moping around my house —”

“Our house,” Shiro mutters petulantly, which does him approximately zero favours.

“— my house for days, crying to me about oh, Adam, he’s disappointed in me, he’s mad at me, what if I made a huge mistake, blah blah blah.” His arms migrate from crossed over his chest to resting sharply at his hips, and his glasses have slid down his nose.

Keith and Shiro share a fleeting, panicked glance. Adam looks ready to cook them both in a stew and feed them to the hungry, as he often says when he’s on his last nerve.

“I am tired of this miscommunication nonsense. I am going to cook you both into stew and feed you to the hungry if you don’t use your words like grownups,” he snaps.

Case in point.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes, Adam,” they both say hastily.

Adam huffs. “Good. I am going to go nap with Hana. When I wake up, I better see smiles and excitement, or else. Goodbye.”

With that he stalks off, not glancing back even for a second, completely confident that they would be staying exactly where they were and doing exactly what he asked.

That confidence is not misplaced. Shiro got very, very lucky, in that he married a man who could hype him up just as fast as he could whoop his ass into shape with one look.

It is, if Shiro is being entirely honest, a little bit hot.

“Ew,” Keith complains, even though Shiro is sure he hadn’t spoken aloud.

“You don’t need to say it out loud. I’ve been living with you for twenty fuckin’ years, man. You think I don’t know what it looks like when you’re being a simp?”

“Oh, shut up, you little snot,” Shiro says, snapping forward quick as a whip and securing his brother in a headlock.

“Twenty year old big shot, huh?” he teases. “Big man, now?”

Keith thrashes in his hold, raking his nails down Shiro’s arm, but the little dumbass has seemingly forgotten that Shiro has also spent twenty years with him, and knows damn well to accost Keith with his prosthetic limb only lest he want to lose his other arm to Keith’s freakishly sharp teeth.

“Let go of me, you goober!” Keith shouts.

Shiro hums. “No. Also, shut up. You’re going to wake the baby.”

Keith growls, and then before Shiro can prepare himself he’a airborne, flipped right over Keith’s head, narrowly missing the counter as he slams down on the hard kitchen tiles.

The air whooshes out of him with a groan. He suddenly very much feels every single one of his thirty-eight years.

“Take that, old man,” Keith taunts, grinning brightly. “I win.”

Shiro pushes himself into a sitting position with a wheeze, glaring playfully across the kitchen at his dumbass little brother, who mirrors him, leaning against the dishwasher.

“You got lucky, you brat. Try me again in the living room and I’ll knock you flat.”

Keith scoffs, but says nothing further, rolling his eyes playfully as he catches his breath. Shiro takes the time to carefully observe him, not giving a shit how weird that is. He’s been raising this kid for twenty years, dammit. And yet somehow it shocks him, every time he looks, to see stubble shadowing the edges of the kid’s jaw, the broad set of his shoulders and the confident slouch of his back, his calloused hands and easy way he holds himself. A proper man, now. Not the scrawny kid who stumbled into Shiro’s life angry and confused after the death of their father, barely four years old and already convinced the world was garbage. Sometimes Shiro wakes up to Hana’s crying at night and walks right to Keith’s room before stopping abruptly in the hallway, remembering that his kid isn’t so much of a kid anymore.

“You’re lookin’ at me weird,” Keith says.

“You’re weird-lookin’,” Shiro shoots back immediately. It startles a laugh out of Keith, wheezy and kind of ugly.

Shiro swallows the sudden lump in his throat.

“What’s going on, old man?” Keith tries again. His voice is much softer this time. “You’ve been avoiding me. I thought I goofed something; I’ve been nagging Adam about it. What’d I do?”

“I’m not mad at you,” Shiro rushes to assure. It does nothing to smooth the crease between Keith’s eyebrows.

“Sure feels like it.”

Shiro sighs, slumping forward a little. He takes the time to look carefully at Keith again, trying to commit his face further to his memory, separate it from that scared kid’s.

“You will always be my little kid,” he says finally. He smiles as Keith protests immediately. “I know you’re grown, believe me. You think you could’ve slammed me like that ten years ago?”

Keith huffs. “I could’ve gotten close.”

“Not on your life, boogerbrain. You were a shrimp up until two years ago.”

“Whatever,” Keith mutters, scowling.

“Hey.” Shiro nudges him with his foot. “Look at me.”

Keith does.

“I know that’s the last thing any grown kid wants to hear. You’re still my baby boy. I know you’re not, not really. But to me —” his breath hitches, and he can feel his eyes start to well up. “Kiddo, every time you ask me for something it’s the same voice that came panicked into my room after a nightmare. Every time you smile at me I remember the year you lost six teeth in a month and grinned as often as you could so everyone knew it. I know you’re a big boy, an adult. But you will never not be my kid, Keith. You may not be my son, but you’re my boy. You always will be. And I just worry that you don’t know —”

He’s interrupted by Keith’s face crumpling, and then as fast as he flipped Shiro earlier he’s rushing forward and collapsing in his arms, all two hundred some pounds of him gathered in Shiro’s lap like he’s ten instead of twenty.

“I love you, Dad,” he wails. He shoves his face in Shiro’s neck and grips hard onto his shirt; loud, heaving sobs wracking his frame. Shiro immediately starts to cry as well, gripping his kid’s back and squeezing tightly, rocking them back and forth. Keith rarely calls him Dad; he’s always been Shiro, except when he’s emotional and hurting and he needs Shiro to be a dad right then, as much as he needs him to be a big brother.

“I love you too, kiddo,” he chokes out. He presses a kiss to Keith’s messy hair. “So much. To the moon and back, okay? I just don’t want you to move out because you think I’m replacing you with Hana. She’s my kid, absolutely, but you are too, okay? You always will be.”

Keith sniffles. “I know. I never doubted.”

The words are like a balm to Shiro’s heart, soothing the ache and the worry that’s been plaguing him for weeks.

“Oh, thank God.”

Keith pulls away, wiping his tears and snot with his sleeve.

God, he’s so gross. Shiro loves him to pieces.

“Is that why you’ve been so weird?” he asks. “You think I’m moving out because of Hana? I love Hana. I would sell both your kidneys on the black market for that kid.”

“Really feeling the love,” Shiro says drily, but in truth the joke really does make Shiro feel the love. That’s excellent. That’s a million times better than what all the parenting books told him to expect.

Keith has no trouble hearing the glee peeking through Shiro’s sarcasm. It makes him smirk.

“Why are you moving out then, kiddo?” Shiro asks, flicking him on the forehead to send the smirk away. “You’ve still got two years left of school.”

“I know. But I’ve been saving for years, Shiro. I can afford it so long as I keep working on the weekends and work longer hours in the summer. Plus —” he goes curiously red. “I, uh, need my own space. My car isn’t going to cut it. You remember last time you and Adam went out on a date, and you came home early?”

Shiro feels a slow grin spread across his face. He knows exactly where this is going.

“I do.”

“Uh, I also took that opportunity to go on a…date, that had to be relocated to my car before you two came home, and I ended up braining myself on the roof halfway through. Kind of killed the mood.”

Shiro manages, quite graciously in his opinion, to keep silent for thirty whole seconds, before bursting into laughter so strong he goes silent, lungs shaking with the effort.

“You — your head —”

“Oh, fuck off,” Keith says hotly. “I’m never telling you anything again.”

“C’mere, you dork,” Shiro says, pulling a reluctant Keith under his arm and pressing another kiss to the side of his head. “Keep telling me things. Even when you move out. I want to hear about your life, even when it’s embarrassing.”

“Especially when it’s embarrassing, you mean.”

“Mhm. ‘Course. That’s the best part.”

———

It’s a learning curve, that’s for certain. A melancholy one, too, learning to adjust to an absence of someone you’ve been living with for two decades. Shiro is still surprised to do the laundry and not find balled up, nasty gym socks in the hamper that he has to make Keith un-crumple so they can wash properly.

He cries for twenty minutes one day, concerned that Keith is doing his laundry incorrectly. Adam laughs himself hoarse, videoing Shiro’s breakdown with shaky hands and sending it to Keith immediately.

Traitor.

But it’s not like Keith’s suddenly a stranger. He regularly comes over when he doesn’t feel like cooking, and as much as Adam grumbles, he misses Keith as much as Shiro does and makes him a giant meal every time. Keith also comes over purely to ignore Shiro and Adam to hang out with Hana, and he thinks he’s being all annoying and bothersome to spite them, but truly every time is a wonderful opportunity for Adam and Shiro to nap.

…Among other things.

But the highlight of Keith learning to live on his own, by far, are the occasional, how-do-you-adult texts he sends Shiro at random times.

from: brat child

takashi, my most beloved brother slash father big hero six style.

Shiro snorts, switching Hana to one arm so he can use the other to type.

to: brat child

Bringing up that movie will not make me more inclined to help you.

from: brat child

false actually every time i mention that movie you become twelve percent easier to manipulate

to: brat child

I am getting less and less inclined to humour you every minute.

from: brat child

yeesh okay

The typing dots go on for several minutes, appearing and disappearing as Keith puzzles out what he wants to say.

from: brat child

okay so usually i would call adam about this because he’s a better adult than u no offense. but i’m not really in the mood to talk for an hour so ur my next best bet

to: brat child

How did you just make your case worse? I’m honestly impressed.

from: brat child

ANYWAY.

from: brat child

how often do u clean the oven?? i don’t remember u doing it very often but obviously it has to be done frequently.

Hana makes a funny noise, clapping her hands together.

“You’re right,” he tells her sagely. “Your brother is strange.”

to: brat child

Keith, I almost never clean my oven.

from: brat child

seriously?? i’m cleaning this bitch every time i use it

to: brat child

…Why?

from: brat child

well i don’t want the bottom to just be all disgusting

from: brat child

wouldn’t all the blood and grease and shit rot?? or burn?? how is that not a food safety hazard??

Shiro furrows his brow. What in the shit is this kid talking about?

to: brat child

Are you talking about your oven or the baking sheet?

from: brat child

baking sheet??

Oh. Oh yes.

from: brat child

my oven has metal grills on the inside

from: brat child

it sears the food nicely but it’s such a pain in the ass to clean

Shiro laughs out loud, unable to control himself, and Hana quickly joins him, happy to share in the laughter.

“That’s right,” he coos. “Your brother is a dumbass! Luckily for you, you don’t have the same genes, hm? No, you’re a smart girl.”

to: brat child

Let me get this right. You’re putting the meat directly on the grills to cook, right?

Keith’s response comes immediately.

from: brat child

yeah to cook

Shiro snickers again to himself. What a dumbass.

to: brat child

Hold on, I’m tweeting this.

Shiro doesn’t fully get why his twitter account is so big. He certainly didn’t intend for it. He was just dicking around online one day, decided to make a funny post of something he saw Adam doing with Hana. He will never understand how he got so viral so quickly, but Keith hates it, which makes it inherently hilarious.

from: brat child

?

from: brat child

what about that was tweet worthy

Shiro has barely hit ‘post’ on the screenshot before the notifications come pouring in. He figured this one would get a good laugh.

to: brat child

Dumbass. You’re supposed to get a thin metal pan to cook the food on, so you can clean the pan and keep your oven clean.

from: brat child

WHAT

from: brat child

WHY DOES NO ONE TELL ME ANYTHING

Shiro shakes his head, snorting. God, he can’t wait for more of this. Being a parent is great.

“Isn’t it, Hana?”

She gurgles happily in response.

———

Shiro doesn’t hear a lot about Keith’s love life. He hears about his friends, sure — dear Lord does he ever worry about the kind of shit his dumbass kid and Matt’s dumbass sister get into — and lots of complaining about school.

But dating life?

Nope. Nada. Zilch.

(He suspects Adam gets this information, if only because he looks infuriatingly smug whenever Shiro sulks about it. Ugh, he is so lucky that Shiro is attracted to him even when he’s being a prick.)

(Arguably, possibly, a little more attracted.)

(Shiro does not have a thing for bossy, arrogant men who tell him what to do. He does not.)

One day, though, Shiro gets a text that changes everything.

from: oven boy

so i’ve found the love of my life, which is kind of cool.

Shiro calls that brat child immediately, obviously.

“Tell me everything,” Shiro demands, not bothering with pleasantries. That’s what caller I.D. is for.

“He’s so beautiful,” Keith sighs. “The prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, holy shit. And he’s so fucking smart. Apparently he’s a friend of a friend of Pidge’s. She didn’t set it up or anything, but she recognised him when we went to the bar last night —”

“Both of you are underage,” Shiro says, as if he and Matt did not have fake I.D.’s by age sixteen.

(To get a fishing license for a prank of theirs, but still.)

Keith ignores him. “—and we started talking and holy shit, Shiro. Never in my life have I wanted to participate in a conversation so badly. We talked for five fucking hours.”

Shiro whistles. That’s a long-ass time for anyone, but Keith especially.

“Damn. This boy must be something special, huh?”

Keith sighs dreamily again, which is quite possibly the best sound Shiro has ever heard. He can’t wait to tell Adam.

“He really is. I can’t wait until I finally figure out his number.”

Aaannnnd there we go. Shiro knew this sounded to normal to be true.

“…Pardon?”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Context.”

“That would be useful, yes.”

“It’s easier if I show you. Hang up, I’ll send you a picture.”

“Alright,” Shiro says hesitatingly. He has barley pressed the red ‘end call’ button before his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

from: oven boy

okay so i got most of it

to: oven boy

How the hell do you get ‘most’ of a number?

A picture pops up, of what’s very obviously a bar napkin, scrawled on with blue glitter pen. It reads: ‘Call me! 512 - 3*1 - 2*04. —Lance. P.S. — trust me, I’m worth it ;)”

Shiro is, frankly, at a loss for words.

to: oven boy

I can confidently say I’ve never seen anything like that before. What’s your plan?

Instead of an explanation, another picture buzzes in. This one is Keith’s familiar messy scrawl, and dozens of numbers written out on lined paper, each one with a different digit for the ones the mysterious Lance had omitted. Several of the numbers are crossed out.

His phone rings again, and he picks up hastily.

“Are you seriously trying every possible number you can?”

He can picture Keith’s shrug through the phone. “Like I said. He’s my soulmate.”

Shiro hums thoughtfully. “You sure he actually wants you to call him? Wouldn’t he just give you his number?”

“I’m sure,” Keith says confidently. Then he chuckles sheepishly. “The chase might be on me, though. We were talking about mysteries and stuff, and I said that I could solve every mystery before the end of the documentary, easy.”

Shiro snorts. “Arrogant boy. Spending a lot of time with Adam, hm?”

“I mean, I really can solve the mysteries. Usually.”

“Mhm. And how far are you through your numbers list?”

A pause.

“Halfway,” Keith says, lying.

“Right,” Shiro says, shaking his head fondly. “I’m tweeting about this, too.”

———

Shiro’s not a big believer in fate. That’s more of Keith’s thing, really.

But when he gets a specific DM, a couple days after his tweet goes viral, he starts to think that maybe Keith’s fuckin’ right.

For once.

The DM is from someone named LoverboyLance, which piques Shiro’s interest immediately.

from: LoverboyLance

howdy!!!! ur probably not gonna see this BUT i’m lance from the tweet!!!

from: LoverboyLance

the one about ur brother lol

It, honestly, takes Shiro a few minutes to respond. He’s genuinely gobsmacked.

to: LoverboyLance

HOLY SHIT!!!!

He calls Keith immediately.

“I have some news for you.”

“Feel free to get to it,” Keith says drily. “I’m kind of busy.

Shiro sniffs. “Well, if you’re busy I guess I won’t bother you, then. I’ll tell twitter user LoverboyLance that you’re not interested in the DM i just got from him. I see how it is.”

“No no no no no, wait!” Keith yells, panicked. “I’m sorry! Come back! Please tell me everything!”

Shiro considers letting him stew for a while, but he’s honestly too excited.

“There’s not much to tell, but I got a DM confirming that Lance knows you’re looking for him.”

“Please beg him to give me his number! I lied about being halfway done!” Keith pleads.

“On it,” Shiro promises. He hangs up and gets right back to twitter.

to: LoverboyLance

I just talked to him!!! He said a couple days ago that he was halfway done which means he’s barely put a dent in it, the dork. What’s your number?

The response comes almost immediately.

from: LoverboyLance

someone isn’t as clever as he thinks lol

Shiro laughs out loud. “No, he is not.”

from: LoverboyLance

give me his number. i’m taking over this operation

Happily, Shiro does. He doesn’t hear anymore from Lance, but twenty minutes later, he gets one text from Keith:

from: oven boy

shiro i love u

from: oven boy

ur the best

Shiro smiles softly to himself, shaking his head.

to: oven boy

I love you too, kiddo.

Perhaps fate really does have some bearing.

———

based on this post

[issdisgrace]

SUPRISE VISIT​

WARNINGS: None, unless your counting swearing​

Walking down the street, I pass a group of men bickering back and forth. I smile to myself as I come to a stop in front of the door of the restaurant that read The Beef. This was the restaurant Carmy had recently inherited from his brother after his death. It wasn’t bad a little old looking, but nice none the less. Opening the door of The Beef the bell above the door rings out alerting the workers. A man in his 30s or 40s coming out of the kitchen. 

“What can I get you?” I notice the way he ever so slightly sizes me up thinking of the chance he would have if I caused problems.

“I’m here to see Carmen.” He nods before yelling out.

“Ahh, Carmy there’s a guy in a suit out here asking for you. I think you’re in trouble.” I laugh silently to myself. He’s far form in trouble.

“Give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

“You heard the man give him a minute. So, can I get you something?”

I look from him to the menu that sits above him, scanning the menu. Nothing really standing out to me.

“What do you recommend?”

“I personally love the Philly Cheesesteak. We make the bread here in the house and we get the streak fresh each day.”

“Sounds good. I’ll take that and water.”

“Alright, that will be 10 bucks.” I take out my wallet and take out a 20 and hand it to him. 

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks, I’ll get your order started right up.”

Just as he says that, the door leading to the kitchen swings open revealing Carmen. He walks out and our eyes meet.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be in New York for a couple more days.” Carmen questions as he walks towards me. The other man disappearing to where Carmen came from.

“Managed to wrap up things quicker than expected. So I thought I’d fly here to surprise you and to get something to eat. First class plane food can’t beat anything made in a kitchen that your chief of.” Carmen nods, walking around the counter before engulfing me into a hug. Hugging him back, I kissed the top of his head.

“I missed you.” He says into my shoulder.

“I missed you too, my love. Also, I have surprise for you.”

“What is it?” He says, pulling back from the hug. I reach into my front left pocket and pull out a set of keys. I hold them out for him.

“What are these?”

“These my love are the keys to our home right here in Chicago.”

“What? How?”

“An old friend of mine hooked me up. It’s a 4 bedroom, 4 and a half bath, tall ceilings, big windows, in a nice spot.”

“But what about your job?”

“I transferred to the firm here in Chicago and I’ll be making a little more than I was.”

“That’s great Y/n.”

“Yes, it is, and it also means I’ll have a little more time to spend with you. I was thinking maybe we could go on a little vacation.”

“I’m sorry I can’t. The guys need me here.”

“I don’t think the place will burn down without you here. You need some time to relax and ….”

“Got your Philly Cheesesteak, fresh off the grill. Here you go.” The man says, sliding the Philly cheese steak across the counter.

“Thank you.” I say. He nods before turning around to get my water out of the fridge. He places it on the counter in front of us.

“So you two a thing.” He asks, gesturing between me and Carmen.

“Richie met my fiancée Y/n. Y/n meet Richie. He’s our resident smart ass.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n. Didn’t know Carmy had it in him to be with someone long enough to get engaged. You paying him or something?”

“Nice to meet you too Richie and no I’m not paying Carmen.”

“Hmm, could have fooled me. What you do for work?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“What type of lawyer are you? I could use one. I got another custody hearing in a couple of weeks.”

“Richie, you are not going to use my fiancée as a way to get out of paying for child support.”

“Hey, I’m trying to get weekend visitations. I don’t care about the stupid money.”

“I could probably help you out with that. I’d just need prior custody and child support agreements.”

“Sweet, thank you.”

“Alright, alright Richie fuck off back to the kitchen.” 

“Alright, no need to be grouchy, Carmy. I’m not gonna steal your man. I don’t like men like that.” With that Richie went to the back, out of sight. Alone again, I look down at Carmen.

“There was no need to be so rude, Carmen.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just Richie somehow manages to get people to help him, then he messes it up and ends in worse trouble.”

“It’s ok. I’m happy to help and plus, if he’s going to be someone I’ll see around a lot I might as well get to know him.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am, love.” I say looking down on the watch and notice it was 1.

“I’m sorry to cut things short, my love. But the movers should be there at the house soon, and I’ll need to let them in. What time will you get done here tonight?”

“7 maybe 8.”

“Alright, I’ll be back then my love. I love you so much.” I say, giving him a quick kiss before grabbing my Philly and my water.

“I love you too Y/n.” I give him another kiss before quickly leaving The Beef. I smile to myself. I feel good about this. This feels like a new chapter for me and Carmen. I can’t wait to see where this goes.

[eriquin]

Time Travel AU

So I've been posting snippets from this, but it's still in need of a name. But it's also pretty long at this point so I figured I might as well post some chapters and see what people think.

(all parts post)

Summary

Steve Harrington goes to sleep sometime after the apocalypse and wakes up in October of 1983. He remembers what's going to happen. No one else does.

Part 1:

Steve was definitely dreaming.

The dream went like this. He woke up in his bedroom at home when he had gone to sleep at the Henderson house with half of the party. He woke up and the sky outside was cloudy but not raining ash. He woke up alone, instead of next to Robin or Dustin or someone who had curled up next to him for warmth or protection from nightmares. He woke up feeling rested and alert and with a clear head and no ringing in his ears. He woke up and listened and there was someone moving around downstairs. 

His bat wasn’t next to the bed, or under it, so he grabbed a trophy off the shelf and flipped it around so that he could use the stone base as a weapon. He stopped to listen at the top step and recognized the voices. Somehow, his parents had come home.

He kept the trophy in his hand and crept down the stairs to find his mom cooking breakfast and his dad reading the paper at the kitchen island. They both looked as surprised to see him as he was to see them. 

“Uh. Hi?” he said with a little wave. He still had the trophy in his hand and he set it down on the kitchen counter. 

“Good morning,” Mom said. “I didn’t expect to see you up so early on a Sunday.” 

Dad chuckled and got up to pour himself another cup of coffee. “Something must’ve startled him. He came downstairs and his hair isn’t perfect.” Steve’s hands automatically went to his head to pat his hair into place. 

Mom tutted at Dad as she turned back to the stove to flip some pancakes over. “Like you’re one to talk, David.” 

They were both dressed for the weekend, slacks and sweaters and polos. His mom’s hair was curly and pinned up, and his dad’s beard was trimmed short. Neither of the styles were the ones they’d been sporting the last time they’d been home, but there was something nostalgically familiar about it all. “Uh. What time is it, anyway?” 

“Only nine, honey,” Mom said. She got out a small stack of plates and set them on the table. “It is nice to see you before noon, though. Just think! You can actually have some pancakes while they’re hot instead of microwaving them when you get up.” She put three pancakes from her stack on one of the plates and held it out to him. 

He knew his confusion was showing on his face as he crossed the kitchen to take the plate from her. His parents just looked amused at it all. He brought the plate to the counter next across from where his dad had been sitting, but immediately had to get back up for a fork and knife. 

Dad poured a second cup of coffee and brought both it and his own back to the counter, setting the fresh one down next to his plate. “Seems like you’re starting to need this to get started,” he said with a chuckle. “Really settling into your old age, eh son?” 

“Thanks, yeah,” he said. He pulled the bottle of maple syrup close and caught his reflection in the bottle. He looked different. His hair was mussed but significantly shorter, and the redness around his neck was missing. He rubbed at it as he stared at himself. There was no hint of the healing abrasions. He ran his hand over the places on his face where he knew he had scars and they were also gone.  

His dad laughed again. “He gets that from you,” he said to Mom, gesturing at the way Steve was examining himself.

Mom glanced over at what he was doing and grinned. “Well, he got my good looks, so I don’t blame him.” She put the spatula down and came over to take the bottle out of his hands. “You look fine, sweetheart,” she said, smoothing his hair down. “Got a big date tonight or something?”

“Uh, no?” he said quickly. “I wouldn’t... I mean, what?” 

“This is why he sleeps until noon, you know,” Dad said. “His body is moving but his brain hasn’t woken up yet.” 

“He gets that from you.” Mom went over to the microwave and pulled out a covered plate. “Here, you two might as well start on the bacon while I finish the pancakes. You’d better leave me some this time, or else you’re making your own damn pancakes next weekend.”

Steve stared at the plate. Mom used to make pancakes and bacon every Sunday that she was home when he was still in school. She’d fry up half a pound of bacon for the three of them and then hide it in the microwave until the pancakes were done. He snagged a piece of it and ate it with his fingers. It was still warm. The memory struck him as something from ages past, but it couldn’t even have been a year since the last time this happened. 

“Hey Dad,” he said, leaning across the counter. “Can I see the paper real quick?” 

“Want to check the funnies?” Dad asked. But he folded it closed and slid it across to him.

Steve just took a quick look at the date under the headline. It said October 16, 1983. He felt his stomach drop and he stared at it for a minute, slowly chewing the bacon in his mouth. The saltiness of it was grounding him in a reassuring way, but he still felt like the world was spinning a bit. 

He didn’t hear the next thing his parents said, but when he looked up they were both quietly staring at him. He tried to think of something to say that would make sense of it all, but his mind was a complete blank. He slowly pushed the paper back towards his dad.

“You suddenly become concerned with what Reagan’s up to, Steve?” his dad asked with a light chuckle. He picked up the paper and folded it. 

His mom looked more concerned. She stacked the finished pancakes onto the plate and shut the burner off. “Honey, are you feeling all right?” she asked as she wiped her hands off on her apron. “You look pale.” 

He tried to come up with a good excuse but his mind was still whirling. He thought back to falling asleep and waking up somewhere new, but everything was still vividly real. Mom came over and pressed the back of her cool hand to his forehead. He leaned into it without thinking, shutting his eyes and soaking up the attention. Other than the complete disbelief in his environment, he felt completely fine. That was the weirdest part. Nothing actually hurt. He had no aching joints or healing bruises or buzzing in his ears or lingering headaches. 

He felt exactly like he had before everything to do with the Upside Down had started. Just like it was October of ‘83. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, pushing his mom’s hand away. “Really, I’m okay.” His mind was reeling more than a little. If this was a dream, then it was a nice one. Nothing nightmarish had happened yet. And if it wasn’t a dream, then he was really back before everything had started. Maybe all the run-ins with the Upside Down were the real nightmare. He tried to think back to what had been going on in the weeks before Will’s disappearance. It was his junior year. There was no looming threat of college applications. Basketball tryouts had just happened, and he was on the team but not captain. There weren’t any games for weeks. His parents were planning a long trip in November. They were a little worried about leaving him home alone for a week, which in hindsight was appropriate. 

“Are you sure, Steven?” Mom asked. She brushed a wild strand of hair out of his face and patted his cheek. 

“Don’t baby him, Rebecca,” Dad said. “If something was wrong, he’d tell us.” 

Mom took a step back towards the stove. “If he’s sick now, he’s actually sick,” she said. “He wouldn’t fake it on a Sunday.”

“Unless he’s one step ahead of you on that,” Dad said. His eyes twinkled a little and he winked at Steve over the lip of his coffee cup. “Counting on you remembering how off he was today so that when he wakes up tomorrow feeling just awful you won’t send him to school.” 

“It’s not that,” Steve protested. He pulled the sugar bowl and creamer closer so he could load up his coffee the way he liked it. “I just woke up weird. Think I had a nightmare.” 

His dad hummed and shook his head at the amount of sugar Steve was spooning into his coffee. “And this nightmare involved the news somehow?”

“No, I was just double-checking the date,” Steve said. “I dreamt that you guys had left on your trip already and something happened to the house while you were gone.” 

Mom let out a scandalized gasp. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it.” 

“She’s nervous enough leaving you home for a week,” Dad added. He still looked amused.

“No, it’s fine. Really, it’s fine.” Steve took another sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “Completely unrelated, where are the fire extinguishers?” 

This got Mom to gasp again and drop her spatula. When she turned to see Steve and Dad grinning at her, she snatched the kitchen towel off of its hook and swatted at them. It made them burst out laughing. “I can’t believe what I put up with in this family,” she muttered. “After I cooked you all this nice breakfast and everything.”

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” Steve said, holding up his hands in defeat but still giggling. “I promise I’m not going to burn the house down.” 

“Or do any other kind of damage!” Mom said. She threw the kitchen towel at his head and missed. “You promise?”

“I promise!” 

“Good.” She flipped the next batch of pancakes. “Eat up and then go get ready for the day. Since you’re up, you can help me go grocery shopping.”