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#the last few months were hell and it’s getting really hard to just go through the daily grind while everything low-key sucks lol
athemarina · 2 years
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zombieplaygrounds · 3 months
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cw: noncon hinted, hinted somno, creampies, sexual fantasies, masturbation, fem! afab reader, forced impregnation, stalker behavior, dead dove do not eat
MDNI.
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It rained today; it had rained the day before as well. But today was different - at least, for Simon it was. The usual scent of cigarette the reeked around the neighborhood was washed away by the sweet, fresh fragrance of rain. He couldn't fucking sleep for the life of him, too accustomed to his shitty, inflexible work schedule. Sleep for three hours, wake up, report in, missions, come back, standing duty, work out. It was a filthy, scrambled jumble of a schedule that made his brain hurt.
His only luxury was the reservation of his civilian life.
Didn't socialize. Hell, he barely even glanced at someone's face for longer than a few seconds - didn't need to. He had already memorized their features for as long as he deemed important. Which is how he got to finding you.
You, his pretty little neighbor. You were all too fucking sweet for a bastard like him to have such possessive fantasies about. Spend the day time outside, tending to a garden, barbequing, reading a book while bathing in the sun. Your reading glasses were a cute look for you, as was everything else.
And in the evening, when you got to cooking, you'd prop open your kitchen window and let the food cool down. The sound of your dishes being scrubbed could be heard from his own yard - it's not eavesdropping if you're so got damn loud, darling. You yammer to your friend about life, work, the bullshit you experience and the guy who tried to get in your pants last week.
Oh, a pretty thing like you doesn't deserve to tell such vulgar stories. And Simon knows it's wrong to listen. He really does have morals, and respect, and chivalry. Sure, it's hard to prove that when he's fisting his hung cock. Muffling his grunts with sucks of air and shaky exhales.
Your laugh makes his cock twitch, and your sweet little "Mhmm"s make his tip leak with bitter tasting pre. He's sure he'd taste awful, splattered in your mouth. He was sure that you were spoilt on the delicacy meals you'd make in your kitchen. Simon wouldn't force you to endure something so cruel. He'd let his cream fill your cunt, holding your hand while you cry through your orgasm, because he is a gentleman.
Realistically, Simon probably couldn't last long. Especially given the way he busted in his pants the one time you came over to the fence, leaning over it with a hop on your ladder. Gave him a great view of your tits, something you had to be aware of as you begged him to give you some of the oranges from his tree.
'Course, he complied, who was he to reject his sweet little thing?
But love, when you initiate something like that, don't be surprised when the creep at your work randomly disappears. And when you wake up to the window you left open last night closed shut, and your panties full of a sticky white liquid. If they were even still on, you'd be lucky to have some dirty panties left.
You figured, you were a sleep walker. So innocent you are. Go to the doctor about all the "discharge" leaking out of you, not even questioning the throb against your cervix and imagining they were just some cramps from an upcoming period. One that never would come. And only when he hears you sobbing while waiting for one of your pies to cool down will he approach, very sweetly asking what's wrong. Leaning by your window well you break the news to him. You're gonna be a mother, and you don't even know the father. You've been abstinent for months!
Much to your surprise, your neighbor, generously offers to help. Because baby, he gets those combat paychecks; money isn't an issue for him. Simon would generously help you, from the bottom of his heart, with no ill intent, of course.
The military offered great family benefits, after all.
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ahh </3 I haven't written in so long :T
anyways i wanted to try writing somno stuff because why not.
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girlgenius1111 · 4 months
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promises
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part 2 to behave. sol makes some questionable decisions. mapi comes to her rescue. ingrid comes home. ft. someone special.
Your arm was broken, and you hadn’t gotten drunk in months. Of course, the two main reasons you had for sneaking out could definitely be construed as two reasons not to sneak out as well. But Ingrid was out of town only until the following afternoon, and Mapi slept like the dead. It was a perfect opportunity, the only opportunity you’d have for many more weeks to come. And besides, you were 18. You weren’t breaking any laws. 
You’d been invited to a party, too, which wasn’t an opportunity you wanted to waste. You hadn’t assimilated to school very well. It was a nightmarish hell, honestly, but in the past few weeks you’d made a few casual acquaintances. They weren’t in any of your classes, and you didn't know them very well, but it was a good start.  
You slipped out the front door at around 1, promising Scout you’d be back soon, and began the few blocks’ walk to where the party was. You were excited. 
------
You didn’t like this. It was unclear what was so unsettling, maybe it was the fact that everything had changed so dramatically since the last time you’d been drunk. Maybe it was because, now, you cared very much about disappointing the people in charge of you. There was also the tiny detail that you’d had way too much. Your tolerance had evidently gone down in the past several months, but you hadn’t really thought about that until it was too late. 
Either way, you just really weren’t feeling the party. It reminded you too much of being back in Norway. How you felt then… you hadn’t really realized how bad it was until you were out of there, and doing much better. The taste of tequila on your tongue was a very visceral reminder of that time. 
It tasted like loneliness. It tasted like you hated everyone, yourself most of all. It tasted like you didn’t care much whether you got home safely, or got home at all. Like you were completely meaningless, and you always would be. You were scared, honestly, just wanted to go home. You headed out the back slider, leaving behind the noise of the party, and fell into one of the patio chairs. You couldn’t walk straight, your mind was completely cloudy, and you were having a hard time stringing any coherent thoughts together. You wanted to go home, but there was no way for you to get there; you definitely couldn’t walk. And even as drunk as you were, you knew ubering home in the middle of the night, by yourself, completely wasted, was a horrible idea. 
You were considering your options when your phone ringing interrupted your thoughts. Mapi was calling you. Fuck. You had no choice but the answer. She had your location. The only way you would have gotten away with this in the first place would have been if she hadn’t woken up. Now, though. You were completely screwed. You did your best to sound as sober as possible when you answered the phone.
“Hi Mapi.” You said cautiously. 
“Nena. Are you coming home soon?” Mapi asked calmly. 
“W-what?” You slurred back, blinking hard in an attempt to clear your mind. 
“You snuck out a couple of hours ago, and now it is almost 3am. So. Are you coming home soon, or should I come get you?”
“You knew I snuck out?” You asked dumbly. 
“Yes, nena. Now, where are you? Are you drunk?” 
“No.” 
You could feel Mapi roll her eyes. “Liar. I am coming to get you.”
The wind picked up a bit, and you shivered, suddenly feeling very cold, and very alone out in the dark. “Mapi?”
“Sí?” 
“Can you stay on the phone?”
And just like that, Mapi’s tone switched from annoyed and slightly amused, to full of concern. “Sí, I’m right here. What is going on? Are you safe? Are you with anyone?” 
You looked back through the sliding door, the party still in full swing. You weren’t alone, really, but you weren’t… with anyone. And for some reason, maybe because you were having memory after memory of feeling very similarly in Norway, you didn’t feel quite safe. 
“There’s a party inside. I’m outside. By myself. Can you come fast? I don’t feel good.” 
“I’m on my way, mi sol.” Mapi promised, and you knew without her saying it that she would go as fast as she could. 
------
She should have stepped in sooner. She should have stopped you the minute you’d snuck out the front door, or at the very least, followed you to where you went. 
She’d been awake, scrolling on her phone. Sleeping was always a bit more difficult without Ingrid there with her, so though it was later than usual for her to be up, it wasn’t completely unheard of. You were quiet as you left, but Mapi had accidentally picked up your phone earlier in the evening, and seen a text containing an address in it. The Spaniard was young once, too, and she knew pretty much instantly what was going on. She half hoped that you’d just ask about going, but as she was reminded often, your parents had done their damage. You’d snuck out instead. 
The thing was, Mapi honestly didn’t care very much that you wanted to go out. It was slightly worrying that you’d felt the need to sneak out, but she understood. The rules were different now than when you’d been in Norway, and it was clear to her that you were still getting used to that. 
You didn’t sound good on the phone, though, and she couldn’t help the worry that filled her as she sped towards the house your location was displaying. It wasn’t just that you were hammered. You sounded… far away. You sounded like the Sol she met when you first arrived. Cold, terrified, closed off, and desperately sad. Mapi didn’t like hearing you like that, and now she really wished that she would have stopped you from leaving the house earlier. 
There hadn’t been a peep over the phone for a few minutes as Mapi neared the house. “Hey, nena? You with me?” 
“Mm hmm.” You hummed, your attention fixed on the sky above you. It was funny, how all the stars could be the same in Barcelona as they were in Norway, yet everything else could be so drastically different. 
“I’m in front. Can you walk out to me, or should I come back and get you?” She was thrilled that you’d made friends enough to go to a party, and she didn’t want to embarrass you if she didn’t have to. 
“‘Can walk,” You mumbled, standing up from the chair, taking a step forward, and promptly falling face first to the ground. Mapi heard the racket, and was out of her car and running to you before you could get a word out. “Mapi, I fell,” you whined over the phone, completely oblivious to the fact that the Spaniard was sprinting in your direction. 
“Idiota.” Mapi mumbled, arriving at your side and bending down to inspect your face. 
“Mapiiiiii,” you sang, eyes halfway closed as you grinned up at the other girl.
“Ay dios mio.” Mapi sighed. You were worse off than she’d thought. “Did you hit your head when you fell?” 
“No, but I hurt my knee, look,” you said sadly, pointing down to a very small scrape. 
“Alright, let’s get you home and I’ll take care-”
“Excuse me, who are you?” A girl asked, stepping out onto the patio, looking between you and Mapi. “Sol, do you know that girl?” 
“I am her… Mapi.” Mapi said, internally rolling her eyes at herself. 
“She’s my Mapi!” You said enthusiastically, somehow hopping to your feet with a bit of agility, and leaning heavily against your sister's girlfriend. “She’s my sister Ingrid’s Mapi, her name is girlfriend.” You slurred. 
The girl just blinked, looking confused. “I am her sister’s girlfriend, María. She called me. I’m going to take her home now.” 
The girl’s expression cleared. “Oh, got it. Thanks for coming, Sol, see you monday.” 
“Byeeeeeeeee.”
“Have a good night.” Mapi said kindly. She appreciated that the girl hadn’t let some stranger abduct you from her patio. She began the arduous journey of practically carrying you back to the car. Once you were in the front seat, she turned the light on above you tilted your face towards her. 
“Nena, open your eyes.” She instructed. You did, opening your eyes ridiculously wide, until they began watering. She just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been drugged or anything, given how out of it you were. Your pupils looked normal, and she decided you had just had way too much to drink.“Okay, you can let your eyes be normal now.” 
They fell back into the half lidded state they were in before, and you sagged into the seat. Mapi bit back a smile. Now that you were safe, she was slightly amused at Drunk Sol. You were funny. 
She’d noticed something though, and as she buckled your seatbelt around you, she asked a question she knew you’d probably avoid answering if you’d been sober. 
“Nena, do the kids at school call you Sol?” 
Mapi had been under the impression that you went by your real name at school, as much as you hated it. Ingrid and Mapi almost exclusively called you Solstråle or Sol, now, just out of habit, but she hadn’t realized you’d made the change at school, too. 
“Yup.” You said, head turned towards her, though your eyes remained shut. 
“Why?” She wondered. She was just curious, honestly. Not only had she not known that you’d had friends at school, you hadn’t mentioned talking to anyone enough to come out of your shell, and tell them something different to call you. 
“I like it better.” 
“Oh.” Mapi said. 
“I like Sol. It’s pretty. And you picked it.” You attempted to poke Mapi’s nose, missed, and hit her cheek, though you continued on like nothing had happened. “And my mom never called me that. It’s a happy name.” 
Mapi blinked at you, before she cleared her throat. “Well, I’m glad you like it.” She said softly, before she shut your car door, and walked around to her side. And if she wiped a few tears away as she did so, that was no one’s business. 
-------
“That STINGS!” You shouted, sitting up out of what Mapi thought was a light sleep, yanking your leg away from her. She’d been trying to disinfect your knee, taking advantage of the fact that you’d collapsed onto the sofa the minute you made it into the house. 
“Sorry, Sol, I’m just cleaning it.” Mapi said, stifling a laugh at the absolutely betrayed look on your face. 
“You SCRAPED MY KNEE!” You insisted, a huge frown on your face. 
“Sol, you scraped your knee, when you fell down earlier. Now let me put a bandaid on.” 
“I didn’t fall, you fell.” You grumbled, though you extended your leg back out to her. “Mapi?” 
“Hmm?”
“Why is my arm wearing a blue condom?” You asked, dead serious, holding up your cast and inspecting it thoughtfully. Mapi bit her lip, trying in vain not to laugh at you, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate it in this state. 
“It’s not a condom, Sol, it’s a cast. You broke your arm.” 
“Oh.” You sat for a moment, watching as Mapi very carefully ensured the bandaid was correctly placed on your knee. “Are there condoms for lesbians?”
God save her. Mapi looked up at you, trying to tell if you were being serious. Your face was completely blank. No. No. She wasn’t doing this now. She was quite sure you’d had sex education, and even if you hadn’t, she’d make Ingrid do it when you were sober. “We can talk about condoms tomorrow. You’re going to bed now.” 
“If there are lesbian condoms, I’m in trouble, because I’ve never used one and I’m a lesbian.” You continued, before sitting up with a gasp. “Oh GOD. Am I pregnant?” 
Now, Mapi really wished she had stopped you from sneaking out. She wished she’d locked you in your room for the night, honestly. 
“Sol, you are not pregnant. Lesbians can’t get each other pregnant.” She explained, lifting you off the couch and into her arms. You were silent as she walked up the stairs, you curled up against her, until you sniffled quietly. She looked down, seeing tears in your eyes, and hurriedly placed you on your bed. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked gently, wiping away a stray tear. 
“That’s so sad.” You cried. 
“What is?” Mapi asked, bewildered. 
“That lesbians can’t get each other pregnant. It’s not fair.” 
“Sol, did you not know lesbians couldn’t get each other pregnant?” The Spaniard asked exasperatedly, really starting to doubt the sex education program at your school. 
“No. I just didn’t think about it until now and it’s so sad.” You mumbled, flopping back onto your bed. “‘Cause lesbians are the best.” 
Mapi flopped down onto the bed next to you, rolling her eyes when Scout picked his head up to glare at her. Of course. Now the dog woke up. “It is sad.” She agreed, thinking it was the easiest way to end the conversation. You didn’t respond, though and she looked over to find you already asleep. 
Thank god.
-------
When you wandered down the stairs at 10 the next morning, Mapi was glad to see that you looked relatively… fine. Not hungover at all, which was absurd considering the state you’d been in the night before. 
“Good morning, Solstråle.” She said, smirking when you looked at her with a furrowed brow. 
“Morning.” You mumbled back, throwing yourself dramatically onto the couch.
“How are you feeling?” 
“Just tired.” 
“You aren’t hungover?” 
“I don’t really get hungover.” You said absentmindedly, scrolling on your phone, only looking up when Mapi didn’t say anything. “What?” 
She looked surprised and kind of annoyed. “You don’t get hungover?” 
“Nope!” You said cheerfully. “Probably a young person thing.” Turning back to your phone, you jumped when a pillow thwacked you in the face. 
“I am young.” Mapi grumbled. You just laughed. “You will not be laughing when Ingrid finds out you snuck out to get drunk.” 
You sat bolt upright, staring at her with your jaw dropped. “You’re going to tell on me?” 
And though she’d said it mostly as a joke, she’d been serious, and she was surprised you hadn’t known that. She told Ingrid everything. She couldn’t keep this from her. “Sol, you had to have known I’d tell her.” 
“You knew I left and you didn’t say anything! This is your fault!”
“My fault?” Mapi laughed. “I wasn’t going to tell her if you snuck back in, but you were so drunk I had to come get you. So. I’m telling Ingrid.”
You studied her for a minute. “I don’t think you will.” 
“Oh you don’t? And why not?” Mapi said, grinning. 
“Because if you tell Ingrid, I am sure Alexia would love to know that you gave her hermanita a tattoo behind her back.” 
The smile fell from Mapi’s face as she stared at you in horror. “You wouldn’t.” 
You smirked. “I would.” 
“Sol, you promised you would not tell. This is not just about me, this is about Fresa too, and you cannot…”
You began to tune Mapi out at the name. Fresa. The day you’d met her had been… a rough one. You’d argued with Ingrid about Camila, and she’d left the house before you could make up. Camila had been together a week, and Ingrid was far from happy. You were left stressed in your room, worried that Ingrid was going to return and take back every nice thing she’d said over the past week or so. It had been a bad day, yes but you still remembered meeting Alexia’s little sister, very clearly. 
-------
A soft knock on your door had you looking up from the school work you were struggling over. 
“Come in.” 
Mapi popped her head in the door. “Can we talk for a sec?” 
You stiffened, though your face was completely blank. “Okay. Did I do something wrong?” You asked quietly. You were always more withdrawn after an argument with your sister. Mapi didn’t say anything about the fact that your cheeks were tearstained, or how you regarded her a bit frightfully. You did so many things frightfully, even now, even still. 
“No, no, not at all. I just have a favor to ask you.” You nodded for her to continue. “Alexia’s younger sister is coming over today for a tattoo, while Ingrid is gone. And I really, really need you not to tell Ingrid about it. Or Alexia. Or anyone.” 
You were a bit stunned by the fact that Mapi would trust you with a secret like this. No one had trusted you with… anything in a really long time. Things were different, you reminded yourself. “Okay .I won't tell.” 
Mapi looked at you for a minute, maybe surprised at how easily you’d agreed. “I don’t mean to make you keep secrets from Ingrid, it’s just that-”
“It’s fine, Mapi. Ingrid won’t think to ask me about it, so it’s not really lying anyway.”
Mapi was  aware that she was probably crossing a boundary by asking you not to tell Ingrid about this, but Fresa was practically an adult, had a good head on her shoulders, and honestly, she needed someone to show her some love. Mapi knew she wasn’t doing something bad, which is how she justified asking you to keep the secret. Fresa needed her sisters, but they weren’t paying attention, and she was tired of trying to get it. So, if Fresa wanted a tattoo from Mapi, then she’d get one. And honestly? Mapi didn’t feel bad about keeping it a secret from Alexia. She was pretty frustrated with the midfielder at the moment, but she could only fix the relationship between sisters one at a time. 
“Okay. Thanks, kid.” She said, giving you a small smile. You smiled back at her, just a bit, but it was more than Mapi normally got, so she took it. 
------
When Mapi had said Alexia’s sister was coming over today when Ingrid was shopping, you’d been much too focused on Mapi trusting you to really process what she’d said. Though it all came rushing back to you when you wandered down the stairs, responding to a text from Camila. She had just invited herself to the next home match and told you she didn’t want to sit with Mapi. You were trying to figure out what to say, because honestly, you liked sitting with Mapi at Ingrid’s games, even if she talked a lot; it was endearing. You had just decided to agree to Camila’s request when Mapi caught your attention. 
“Oh, Solstråle,” Mapi said excitedly. You looked up at her in surprise, your eyes flicking over to the other girl in your house. She was looking at you with a smile on her face, as if she’d just been joking around with Mapi. She had that Putellas aura, one that completely projected confidence. It intimidated you, and you faltered, unsure what to do, or say to this mysterious, beautiful girl. You didn’t want to lounge in the living room anymore, waiting for Ingrid to get home so you could apologize and see if she was still mad. You wanted to go back to your room where it was safe and there were no strangers. “This is Ingrid’s hermana, Solstråle,” Mapi introduced, giving you an encouraging smile. 
You took a minute step backwards, slightly panicked. You forgot you had social anxiety, sometimes, especially when you went so long without meeting new people, and being expected to talk to anyone other than Ingrid and Mapi. The pretty girl smiled, and your brain fell empty for a second. 
If she was beautiful before she smiled she was… otherworldly when she did. She was warm and happy and so… light. She was overflowing with love, and you could tell from just a few seconds of being in her presence. 
“Solstråle, this is Alexia’s sister, Fresa.” Mapi continued, pretending that you weren’t acting like a complete weirdo. You still couldn’t talk, your mouth suddenly very dry, and Mapi sighed a bit. That sent you reeling because normally, Mapi was so careful not to ever let you think she was disappointed in something you did. 
She really just wanted you both to be friends, and felt like she was blowing the introduction, but you felt like you needed to get out of there before you made even more of a fool of yourself. 
“You can say hi Sol she does not bite! Actually you-” 
You interrupted Mapi, hastily greeting Fresa in what was probably very poor, and very quiet spanish. Then, you made it even worse, somehow, by turning on your heel and making a break for it. Back to your room where it was safe. 
Mapi apologized later for putting you on the spot with a new person, and you’d apologized for acting like you’d never spoken to another human being in your life before. Mapi casually asked if you wanted her to get Fresa’s number from Alexia, so you both could be friends, but you’d declined. 
You didn’t need friends. Definitely not pretty friends that made you nervous, especially when there was absolutely, positively no way she’d like you back. Or even that she liked girls. What were the odds all three Putellas sister’s were lesbians? It seemed unlikely to you, and you tried to push Fresa out of your head as the weeks passed. You focused on Camila, and then you focused on anything but Camila. Fresa always… stayed in the background, though. Always a thought. Always there. 
-------
You blushed at the memory, at how insanely shy and awkward you’d been. You honestly weren’t really looking to share that story with anyone, let alone Alexia, who was one of the coolest people you'd ever encountered. 
“Alright, I won’t tell anyone. I did promise.” You stated, before you grew serious. “But please don’t tell Ingrid, Mapi. It is never ever going to happen again, I felt so weird yesterday, it wasn’t fun at all. It was a one time thing.”
“What, you are never going to drink again?” Mapi asked, distracted and now slightly concerned. 
You decided to be honest, because vulnerability couldn’t be worse than Ingrid yelling at you. It would come close. But it wouldn't be worse. “No, I just…I realized I don’t need to do that anymore, blackout every weekend. When I used to do it before, in Norway, I was trying to forget. I was running away from my problems. I don’t need to do that anymore, I don’t want to.” 
“Oh.” Mapi said carefully, recognizing the weight of what you’d just admitted to her. “Okay. Fine. I won’t tell Ingrid. If you promise to stop taking pictures of me sleeping next to Scout, because they are not representative of our relationship. We do not like each other. We just happen to fall asleep in the same spot sometimes.”
You threw your head back and laughed. “Sure, Mapi. If that’s what you want.”
------
Ingrid hated ubering home from the airport. It took forever, the drivers were never very good, and she much preferred her girlfriend to come to the airport and greet her with a warm hug. However, Ingrid couldn’t miss the opportunity to surprise you both upon her arrival home. It had been a tough couple days for you, she knew. You were an emotional mess after the hospital, though you pretended not to be, and you hated not being able to do your normal activities. So, when Ingrid realized she could catch a flight in the morning as opposed to the afternoon, she jumped at it. She missed her girls, and seeing you both sooner was worth the hassle. 
You and Mapi had ensured the house was spotless. Early on in the break, you’d suggested making slime. Mapi had agreed, and it went about as well as could be expected. The dining room floor was now bare, the rug that normally lived there was nowhere to be found. Other than that, though, the house was clean, and Scout had gotten a bath, courtesy of Mapi due to the cast on your arm. That went about as could be expected, too. 
After cleaning, you’d slumped onto the couch grumpily. Mapi knew you were bummed about your hand. You were such an active person, always moving around, always doing something outside. Now, though, you needed to rest your very broken arm, which meant that you were stuck inside with Mapi. You were grouchy and short tempered, but the Spaniard was doing her best to keep you occupied. 
Both of you were too wrapped up in the intense round of mario kart you were playing to notice the car pull into the drive, or hear your sister approach with her suitcase. You could only play with one hand and the thumb of your broken hand, so Mapi promised to only do the same. As soon as you began to beat her, though, she began to cheat, sneakily using both her hands on the controller, much to your frustration. 
Ingrid felt a pang of worry flash through her when she heard a raised voice as she unlocked the front door. She knew what your mood had been like, and she was worried you were arguing with Mapi. You’d never yelled at her girlfriend before, but you’d definitely yelled at Ingrid. 
“I swear to god María, I am going to throw this at your head,” you shouted. 
Ingrid fumbled with her keys in her haste to get the door open. 
“I am not cheating!” Mapi defended. “You are seeing things, pequeña, I thought it was your arm that was b-”
Her voice cut off as Ingrid swung the door open, a small smile on her face as she’d realized what the argument was about. 
“Ingrid?” You and Mapi said, completely in unison. Scout hopped off the couch, trotting over to his second favorite person, eagerly sniffing at her legs. Ingrid petted him, her attention still on the two of you, frozen on the couch. The rainbow road music still played in the background, and it was truly a comical sight. You had been attempting to kick Mapi’s controller out of her hands, and she was trying to cover your eyes. 
“Ingrid!” Mapi said again, launching off the couch to almost tackle her girlfriend in a hug. 
“Hi my love,” Ingrid murmured, hugging Mapi back rather tightly. 
“I’m so glad you’re home.” Mapi whispered. “She’s scary when she’s grumpy.” 
“I heard that.” You said, frowning at the Spaniard. Ingrid was surprised when you yanked on the back of Mapi’s shirt, pulling her away from your sister, and took her place. The hug you gave your sister was fierce and if Ingrid had been wondering if you’d missed her, she no longer did. 
“Hi sweetheart,” she said, squeezing you tight. 
“Hi.” You mumbled. “Missed you.” 
“I missed you too, Solstråle.” Ingrid said with a smile, taking your cast into her hands as she pulled back. 
“How is your hand? How are you? Are you doing okay?” She asked worriedly, and you nodded, though you really appreciated how much she cared. 
“It’s fine, really. Mapi was… Mapi was really helpful. Couldn’t have done it without her.” You glanced at her, before turning back to your sister, changing the subject. “Blank canvas for you to sign.” You grinned. Ingrid returned that smile and dragged you into the kitchen without further ado. She completely disregarded her duffel bag by the door, and left her backpack on as if she couldn’t be bothered with it before she signed your cast. 
“Can I sign when you’re done?” Mapi asked eagerly. 
“When I’m done, yes,” Ingrid sighed, though she was endlessly entertained by her girlfriend’s impatience. Mapi was like you in that sense. 
Ingrid found a sharpie in the drawer, carefully grabbing your cast in her hands, instructing you to close your eyes. 
‘du er favorittpersonen min selv når du faller love, ingrid’
When she was done, she told you to open your eyes, and you did so eagerly, looking down at what she’d written. You weren’t expecting tears to flood your vision, but they did. ‘You’re my favorite person, even when you fall.’ It felt like it had more than one meaning. Ingrid would always love you. Regardless of your mistakes. 
You smiled at her through your tears, throwing your arms around her again in a tight hug. She caught you easily, enjoying the moment. 
“Ahem. MY TURN.” Mapi said impatiently, causing both you and Ingrid to break into laughter. You let Mapi sign, then, even though she wrote so big it took up half the cast. Ingrid just watched, enjoying the sight of her little family. It was very perfect. 
-----
:)
send! your! sol! thoughts! and let me know what you thought of this one 🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂🙂
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ellecdc · 7 months
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A Man With A Plan.3
prologue // p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8
Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader - Hogwarts Era (no Voldemort) - Soulmate AU
CW: Remus being a d-bag, I'm sorry. Drinking and drunkenness. Mention of smoking. Mention of sexual encounters/hooking up.
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Remus was good at quite a few things. Two of those things happened to be thinking and planning. So, he could think this through, and make a plan.
First, here was what he knows:
He was a werewolf 
As a werewolf, he turned into The Wolf once a month
As a werewolf, he had a particularly strong magical ability
Apparently, The Wolf had a soulmate 
It sounded kind of grim, he couldn’t lie. So where did he go from here? 
He really didn’t think pursuing anything with you was a good idea. What if it was only the Moony part of him who liked you? He felt like the choice of any future partner (which he never planned to have thank you very much) had been taken from him; this fate and destiny bullshit was taking away his free will. 
He hated that.
And how selfish would it be to allow himself this because... what? Because it would comfort The Wolf? Because there’s a small chance you could bring comfort to him? Because Moony wanted you?
He felt disgustingly primitive: a wolf picking a mate - this was the closest Remus ever truly felt to a beast. 
And how could he do that to you? How could he look you in the eye and ask you to put aside any potential fear and prejudice to allow him to keep you to himself? How could he damn you to a life of full-moons and prejudice and hard times? What kind of man would that make him?
A selfish one. A cruel one.
He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. 
Unfortunately for him, this also meant he couldn’t tell his friends. Namely, he couldn’t tell James.
James was a hopeless romantic – obviously, who else would hopelessly pine over the same bird for seven years if they weren’t? Not only that, but he also had this unrelenting need to make sure everyone was as happy as humanly possible at any given moment. James sometimes looked at Remus like he hung the moon – pun intended – and felt Remus was harder on himself than he ought to be. But James didn’t understand; it was dangerous to be close to Remus. Remus was dangerous.
And he wouldn’t understand Remus’ decision in not pursuing anything with you.
He couldn’t keep something like this from only one of his friends, which meant he wouldn’t be able to tell Sirius or Peter either. Which was probably just as well, seeing as Sirius would relentlessly torment him for it and Peter worried enough about the lot of them.
So, his new plan was: keep this from his friends, and get the hell over you. Simple, right?
Wrong. 
Remus had already tried avoidance (as seen last week) which was obviously a complete bust. So, he planned to try exposure therapy – he would spend time around you hoping to desensitize himself (or Moony) to your proximity. 
Exposure therapy was bliss and torture. 
It was as if Remus’ senses were hyper focused on you. When you were around, he couldn’t pay attention to anything other than you. When Sirius was telling a grandiose story about the last quidditch game, he couldn’t help but notice you shift in your seat. Why did you shift? Were you uncomfortable? Were you cold? Was your leg falling asleep? Were you – god forbid – moving closer to Sirius?
Sod off, you git. 
If you so much as interjected in a conversation, Remus wanted to chase your words and beg you for more. Did your father really own a quidditch ball set from the 1600’s? Where did he get the set? Were you with him when he bought it? Is your father kind to you?
He also spent each conversation you were part of hyper focused on the people around you as well. Were they paying attention to you when you spoke? Were they being kind to you? Were they standing too close?
Fuckin’ hell.
So, Remus needed to make a new plan.
Find a distraction.
Said distraction came in the form of one Amelia Bones. She was a nice enough girl and not a bad lay – she and Remus had fooled around in the past before, but he ended their arrangement when she started to get a little too interested in Remus for his liking. He had a plan, dammit - rules: sex was fine, feelings were not!
But Remus Lupin was a desperate man, and desperate times called for desperate measures. 
Desperation, it appeared, was not a good look for Remus. 
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Sirius Black was a bastard. He knew this, his friends knew this, everyone in Hogwarts knew this. He wasn’t necessarily proud of the title, but everyone needed to be known for something, right?
And it’s not like he wasn’t honest about his bastardness and debauchery – he never pretended to be anything but himself.
What he couldn’t understand was where Remus was pulling his bastardly behaviour from, because Remus certainly wasn’t a bastard himself.
And Sirius would know...because of previously mentioned bastardness. 
Takes one to know one. 
Sirius knew who the other bastards at Hogwarts were – McLaggen was a bastard, Lockhart was a bastard, Prewett was a bastard (Fabian, not Gideon), and Marlene was a bastard before Meadows set her straight (well, not straight but...you get the point).
The point is that Remus is not a bastard.
So, what the fuck was his problem!?
Sirius, who (very selflessly, if you asked him) agreed to be the sober marauder for the night, was sat in an armchair watching a very drunk James challenge an adequately tipsy Peter to a game of muggle poker. Sirius didn’t know all of the rules, but he could tell by James’ over-the-top confidence that he was going to lose.
What was guaranteed to be a good show at James’ inevitable loss was interrupted when Sirius couldn't help but notice Remus leaning against the wall with one Amelia Bones caged between his arms.
Remus didn’t usually get drunk enough to make bad choices – but he had clearly been out of sorts for the past week or two, so Sirius supposed stranger things have happened.
Sirius may be a bastard, but he was a good friend.
“Hiya Moony, Amelia, pleasant evening?” He drawled as he swaggered his way over to save his friend from himself.
Amelia smiled shyly at him, but Remus shot him a glare.
“Don’t call me that.” He muttered.
Sirius fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Sorry Rem. Have you had any water yet tonight?”
“I’m fine, Sirius.”
Sirius smiled awkwardly as he looked between his ‘fine’ friend and the bad choice he was making. “You look it mate, just wanted to remind you to stay hydrated.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Remus responded shortly. 
“I’ll look after him, Sirius.” Amelia cooed as she ran a finger up the length of Remus’ forearm. Sirius watched Remus’ face, and it looked to him as if Remus was having to focus a little too hard on enjoying his present company.
“Rem, can I borrow you for a second?” Sirius asked as he took the lycanthrope’s arm and dragged him to the stairwell of the boy’s dormitories without waiting for a response. 
“Pads, sod off.” Remus slurred slightly as he tried to pull his arm away from Sirius. Sirius was well aware that Remus was more than strong enough to pull out of Sirius’ grasp, so he wasn’t completely unwilling to listen to his mate.
“What are you doing?” Sirius asked quietly.
“Trying to get laid, obviously?” Remus muttered as he looked anywhere other than at Sirius.
“With Bones? Really? Took you months to shake her off, you swore you were done with her. What’s this really about?” 
“Sirius, it’s really none of your business.” Remus spoke sharply.
Sirius felt his eyebrows furrow as he took in his friend. “What has gotten into you lately?”
“Just back off, okay?” Remus said with finality as he stalked back off the way they came. Sirius blew a frustrated breath and checked on Peter and James before heading to the astronomy tower for a smoke. 
Most of the party goers had left and Sirius had the unenviable task of trying to usher James Potter and Peter Pettigrew up to bed.
“She’s just so pretty, Pads.” James sighed as he leaned heavily against the railing so Sirius could pull Peter up the couple of steps he had managed to get James up so far.
“Sure is, Prongs.” He groaned as he sat Peter down and helped James up a few more steps before washing, rinsing, and repeating his actions.
“And have you smelt her?” He continued.
“I actually have, she smells quite – quite nice.” Peter commented with a hiccup.
“Oi, don’t go around smelling my missus there, Worms.” James slurred from his spot on the banister.
“It was on-on accident Prongs. She was teaching me and Dorcas how to play hangman.” He emphasized.
“Hangman?” James guffawed. 
“Right? It’s like, it’s like supposed to be a ki-kid’s game. But you slowly watch a man ha-hang himself if the other person can’t – if they can’t read your mind!” Peter screeched.
“Pipe down, Wormy.” Sirius grumbled. “You’re gonna wake the whole tower.”
“Well, that is not a game suitable for children.” James said solemnly. Peter agreed with emphatic head nods which threw him completely off balance and onto his ass. 
“Salazar’s saggy balls, Wormy.” Sirius groaned as he hoisted the boy and all but threw him into their dorm room.
Sirius wasn’t surprised but extremely perturbed to find Remus’ bed curtain already pulled shut. He put (wrestled) James into bed and had to threaten casting an incarcerous jinx at him if he didn’t stay tucked in before he could help Peter into his own bed. 
As Sirius got ready for bed, he leaned over to press his ear against Remus’ curtains – nothing – the bastard had cast a silencing charm. Sirius groaned as he pulled on his pyjamas and crawled into bed.
“Prongs, for fucks sake, what are you doing?” He said when his head hit the pillow which brought him face-to-face with James Potter.
“I missed you.” James said.
“If you were asleep in your bed, you wouldn’t have time to miss me.” Sirius grumbled.
James seemed to consider that for a moment. “I just think I’ll fall asleep easier here.” 
Sirius found he was far too exhausted for this.
“Fine, but if you throw up in my bed, I’m telling Evans about the time you shit yourself during a half marathon.”
Sirius nearly put his hand over James’ mouth to muffle his gasp/screech.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
“I told you that in confidence.”
“And I’m confident it’ll be good blackmail should I need it.”
The two stared each other down before James relented and muttered a petulant ‘fine’.
“Did you really shit yourself?” Peter whispered from across the room.
“Go to sleep, Wormy.” 
“Okay.”
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Remus was in denial. He was sure of it. Though, was it really denial if he was aware he was denying the truth?
It was too early for this.
Amelia (finally) seemed to stir, and Remus tried not to grimace at the feeling of her naked skin pulling away from his own.
“Mm, good morning handsome.” She moaned in what Remus was sure she thought was alluring but all it did was make him eager to get to breakfast.
“Thanks for last night.” Remus said as he moved to sit up.
“Maybe we can catch up later?” Amelia asked as she stretched.
Remus winced at her hopeful tone. “Yeah, maybe.”
She seemed satisfied with his non-answer and kissed his cheek before she dressed and exited the dorm. Remus dressed as well before stepping out of his bed curtains.
“What in the buggering fuck was that?” James demanded.
“Jesus Christ. Didn’t you drink enough to take out a hippogriff last night? You should be comatose.” Remus muttered as he squinted at his friend. 
“What was Amelia Bones doing leaving our dorm room, Moony?” James demanded again.
“Prongs, don’t.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you won’t talk to any of us about it, but you’re clearly crying out for help, so spill.” 
“I am not crying out for help, James. But I have been asking you to mind your fucking business!” Remus bellowed.
Peter was sat in his bed with his blankets pulled up looking like a child watching his parents’ fight.
“Fine.” James said quietly and he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Remus closed his eyes and brought his hand to his hair before pulling roughly. 
“Pete why don’t you-” Sirius started, but he didn’t need to finish before Peter was agreeing with a quick ‘yup, I’ll go see where he went!’ and vacating the dorm room. 
The silence was near deafening when Sirius finally turned his fiery gaze to Remus. 
“Remus.”
“Sirius, please don’t st-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP.” Sirius shouted. His rumpled hair and the fact that he was still sitting under his covers did nothing to take away from the anger that permeated his being. “You’ve done enough talking, you listen now.”
Sirius moved to stand in the middle of the dorm room facing Remus like they were in a bad western stand-off.
“You have friends here who love you, regardless of whether you think you deserve it or not. Now, if you ask me, you’re not acting like someone who deserves it, but here we are.
“Now, I’m an arsehole, so if you wanna take out whatever prepubescent hormonal bullshit you’re going through right now on someone, I can take it. But you will not speak to James like that; got it?” 
Remus’ head was beyond throbbing at this point. He huffed a sigh and returned his gaze to Sirius. 
“I’m sorry.” He admitted quietly.
“I’m not the one you owe an apology.”
Remus nodded his head and pulled the book out from his trunk at the end of his bed before handing it to Sirius. 
“Page thirty-seven.” He said simply.
Sirius spared Remus a confused glance before taking the book and flipping it open to the dog-eared page.
Remus sat on his trunk with his head in his hands while Sirius read.
“Soulmate.” Sirius breathed out disbelievingly. 
Remus groaned in response.
“But... you have - who? Amelia!?” 
“No, not Amelia.” Remus groaned. “Sirius, I’m not joking, you cannot tell Prongs.”
Sirius’ face paled as his mouth dropped open. “Evans!?” He whispered in shock.
“What? No, for fucking, fuck, no!” He wanted to be swallowed up at this point. “It’s L/N.”
“L/N? The Ravenclaw? James’ new best friend? The odd little bird? Y/N?”
“Yes, yes, yes. Her. You can stop saying her name now.”
“Why? Does it hurt?”
“Sirius!”
Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Sorry.”
Sirius continued to flip through the pages as Remus' blood pressure returned to normal.
“What are you going to do?” 
Remus cut his friend a glare. “I’ve tried avoidance, I’ve tried exposure therapy, and now I’m trying distraction.”
Sirius’ eyebrows met in a grimace. “You’re using Bones to bone in an attempt to distract yourself from your soulmate?” 
Remus roughly scrubbed his hands across his face.
“I know, I know. But it’s the lesser of two evils.”
Sirius scoffed. “Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself.”
“Pads...”
“No! I don’t understand how ignoring the fact that you have a magical connection to someone and using someone else who we know would love to call you hers to do so can be considered a lesser evil; it's gross, Remus. Even I’m not that slimy, and I’m a Black.”
“It’s not a magical connection, Pads.” Remus muttered. “It’s Moony’s obsession.”
Sirius shook his head. “No. It’s long thought extinct magic at play. Did you ever think about the fact that while you’re denying this of yourself, you’re also denying this of her?” 
Remus shook his head sadly as he hung it low. “She doesn’t deserve this, Sirius.”
“Oh, come on,” Sirius groaned dramatically. “Not this martyr shit again.”
“Sirius, look,” Remus started as he stood from his place. “I come from nothing, we’re poor; and the opportunities for me after I leave this castle are slim to none in both the magical and muggle world. She comes from a pureblood family, and while they may not share all of the same values, you know how wizarding-kind view werewolves. Okay? I can’t offer her anything that she can’t find somewhere else. In fact, she’d probably be way better off with anyone other than me.” 
Sirius looked like he wanted to argue, but he seemed to decide against it.
“It’s for the best.” Remus stressed. 
Sirius didn’t seem to agree; neither did Moony.
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Continue to chapter four here.
Taglist: @hanniejji, @y0urm0m12, @c0nsc10usworld, @aphrcdites, @starsval, @thepunisherfrankcastle, @anuncalledbridge, @unstablereader, @rai-strangebr,  @klazina-couch-potato, @cancelledkaley, @fandom-crashlanding, @ttulipwritezz, @boo8008, @daisiesformylove, @frostooo, @myriadmoons, @aremuslupinsimp, @simars3, @stargurl99, @dreamingofts18, @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface, @agent-tempest, @xxrougefangxx, @serenadingtigers, @spidergirlmcu, @adhxmoony, @spokenfolks-blog, @hufflepufffangirlqueen
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lanadelnegan · 1 year
Note
Hi I’m kinda shy about this one. So the reader has been traveling with dead city cowboy Negan for awhile and she’s liked him for a long time but she’s a virgin and she wants him to take it.
Don't be shy bb, I am a slutttt for dead city Negan. Basically, think of this as if you were in Ginny's shoes, but you're 18.
Our Little Cabin
Dead City!Negan x Reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, virgin reader, vaginal sex, fingering, family death (reader's mom), reader seduces the hell out of negan, extreme age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 50ish), masturbating (both), masturbating in front of Negan while he refuses to touch you, daddy-kink, breeding kink, cuddling, pure filth
A/n: If you like slow burn, sexual tension and a "hard to get" daddy Negan, this one is for you. I promise one day I'll finally write a fic without daddy-kink, but today is not that day.
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"Can we go home now, Negan? My legs hurt." I complain, dragging my feet lazily through the leaves.
He stops and sighs, resting his hands on his hips. I stop too and stare at him. That damn cowboy hat.. I swear he wears it just to tease me.. and it's working.
"Yeah, doll. Sun'll be going down soon anyway."
"Ugh thank god." My head falls back dramatically and he chuckles as we start our way back.
Negan took me under his wing a few months ago when some assholes attacked Oceanside, killing my family and everyone I know. I was lucky - if you wanna call it that - enough to escape. I ran into Negan in the woods and it's just been me and him ever since. I'm thankful for him, considering I never had a dad or father figure growing up. My mom was my best friend.. and now she's gone. But at least I have him.
I've grown attached to Negan over the recent months.. But something feels.. different lately. I'm not sure what suddenly changed over the last few weeks, but I've caught myself imagining things about him that I shouldn't. Even touching myself to the thought of him. I feel so guilty afterwards, but I can't stop. I've never been with anyone.. never kissed anyone.. never touched anyone. And my body is screaming at me for it. I can't even look at him anymore without imagining what he looks like under his clothes.
"Why're you so quiet, kid?" He glances at me as we walk.
Ugh, I hate it when he calls me kid.
I shrug. "Just thinkin'."
"About?"
"Doesn't matter." And I've convinced myself it doesn't. I'll never be with someone romantically, because for one.. it's the apocalypse. It's not like I have a school full of hot boys lined up ready to ask me to prom. Not that I'd give them a chance anyway. I'd probably be more into the teachers. And second, the man I want would never think of me that way.
"That's not true."
"You don't even know what I'm thinking, so how can you say that?"
"Anything you think about - worry about - matters to me, y/n. So, spill."
We finally make it back to our little cabin. We've been staying in it for awhile, stocking it with food and supplies. No one has found us yet.. It's kinda nice. But I won't get used to it. Because nothing good lasts forever.
I throw myself on the couch dramatically, as if our walk that we've done a hundred times now could've killed me.
"I don't know... I just, I feel like most kids - people - my age have already experienced more in life that I have."
"Like?"
"Sex." I blurt before I can stop myself. I look to Negan to see his reaction, but he's surprisingly not that alarmed. His eyebrows are raised as he studies me, probably more shocked that I actually had the balls to say that in front of him.
"Listen, I don't really feel comfortable doing the whole birds and bees talk with you."
My cheeks turn pink with embarrassment and I nod disappointedly.
"Sorry, it's just.. I - no one's really talked to me about it before. My mom said she would when I was ready.. but then she.. she.." I fight back the tears. I hate crying. You can't come across weak in the times we live in and I've been forced to be strong my entire life.
He looks at me finally and sighs, holding his arm out for me to come snuggle next to him. It's not the first time he's held me as I've cried over my mom. Won't be the last.
I bury my head in his chest, sniffling, as his hand rubs my back.
"Alright, kid. What do you wanna know?" He gives in, feeling sorry for me.
"Well, I know how it works, but I guess I just wanna know what it feels like." I feel him tense underneath me as he adjusts himself awkwardly.
"No boyfriends at Oceanside?"
"There were boys.. but none that I was interested in."
"You'll find someone when the time is right. You're still young."
"Well you don't have anyone, and you're.. not young."
"Jeez, kid. Thanks." He chuckles. "I did have someone. A few someone's actually. Lost them all to this cruel world." He admits and my heart hurts for him.
"Well, you have me now." I get more comfortable, laying my head in his lap and looking up at him. He shifts uncomfortably but eventually relaxes and even strokes my hair lightly.
"Yeah, I do. And nothing is going to happen to you. You're safe with me, doll." Butterflies swirl around in stomach, but I know he doesn't mean that in the way I wish he did. He sees me as a kid.. hell, as his kid. For a moment my heart sinks from jealously at the "someones" he mentioned. Lucky bitches.
"...Negan.. does it.. feel good?" I blush a little.
"Sex? .....Yeah, doll. It fucking feels good."
"Will you.. show me?" I stare up at him innocently and his hand abruptly stops stroking my hair.
He bends over, planting a kiss on my forehead. "Time for bed, darlin'." He pushes me gently up and off his lap before standing and heading to his room. The cabin is small but we each have our own rooms. His is the smaller one, right across from mine. He wanted me to have the bigger one.
I sit on the couch, feeling defeated and stupid. What was I thinking. I relax on the couch for a little longer, choosing to read a book to take my mind off what just happened. After an hour of barely keeping my eyes open, I close the book and head down the hall towards my room. I stop in front of Negan's door, peaking through the crack. He always leaves his door a few inches open just so he can hear if anything happens. My eyes widen when I notice the sheets are barely covering the lower half of his legs, revealing the rest of his body. His tan torso is exposed, showing his peppery chest hair, and his black boxers are low on his waist. I restrain myself from not jumping him right then.
I eventually make my way back to my room and change out of my clothes, throwing on some shorts and a tank top to sleep in. I can't get the image of Negan's body out of my head and find my hand slowly making its way towards my aching center once I'm finally in bed. I close my eyes, imaging Negan between my legs as I touch myself. I don't bother suppressing my moans, confident that Negan is fully asleep. "Mmm, Negan!" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue as I'm pleasuring myself brings me closer to the edge.
"Oh, Negan. Right there!" My door suddenly swings open and I snap my eyes open to see a worried Negan standing in my doorway.. still in his boxers. My hand flies out of my shorts and I throw the sheets over me.
"Oh my god, can you knock?!"
"I - you yelled for me." He says flustered. I notice the way his face reddens when he realizes what I was doing.
I gently pull the covers off me again and spread my legs a little.
"What are you doing, y/n?" He stands in front of me at the doorway, refusing to look at anything other than my eyes. That's okay.. I bet I can make him look at me down there. I like the challenge.
"What's it look like?" My bite the tip of my finger seductively at him before sliding my shorts to the side, completely revealing my pussy to him.
He glances down with a serious look across his face, like he can't believe I'm doing this. And neither can I. This is so unlike me, but I'm so desperate for him I don't even know how to control myself anymore.
The fact that he's still watching encourages me to continue. I use one hand to pull my shorts to the side and the other to slowly slide a finger through my wet slit. "I just wanna know what it feels like, daddy."
I study him closely, noticing the way his jaw ticks at the nickname. My eyes travel lower and I see his bulge through his boxers. It looks so big, but I'd be determined to make it fit no matter what.
My finger dips inside of me and I arch my back a little and moan, putting on a show for him. He stands with his back against the wall, refusing to move.
I start rubbing my clit slowly and get frustrated when he still isn't reacting. "Negan, please touch me."
He rubs a hand down his face with frustration. "Goddamn it, y/n."
"I just.. I need you. Please." I cringe at my desperate attempt to have him touch me. I need this man so bad it's embarrassing.
"I can't, baby."
"But you like watching me, don't you?"
I take it as a yes when he doesn't say anything and that's all I need before pushing myself over the edge. "Negan!" I cry out as my orgasm rushes through me. Even in the dark, I can see the lust burning through his eyes.
"Go to bed, y/n." He demands but I'm unable to read his tone. Is he mad, proud, annoyed?
I fall asleep at the thought of him giving in and touching me. Maybe if I think hard enough, I'll manifest it.. I heard that shit really works.
Negan's POV:
That girl is gonna be the fucking death of me.
She's been so flirty with me lately and I've been trying to ignore it. But fuck if she's not making it hard. Literally.. I'm hard as a fucking rock right now.
I refuse to touch my dick while thinking about her. She's thirty-fucking-three years younger than me for fuck's sake.
She's confused. She doesn't want me, and she damn sure isn't getting me. Apocalypse or not, it's still fucking wrong.
I drag a hand down my face and sigh. I shouldn't have watched her, but I couldn't look away. She flashed her fucking pussy right in my face and I just stood there.. watching her. Fuck me.
My dick is throbbing and I know I won't be able to sleep until I get some relief. "Fuck it."
I pull myself out of my boxers and immediately start stroking my dick. I think about anything but.. her. Fuck.. y/n. That pretty little wet pussy dripping right in front of me. The way she said my name when she came.
"Ahh, fuuuck. Y/n, fuck." I cum hard and fast and immediately regret it afterwards. Fuck is wrong with me.
I can't - and I won't let myself think about her like that again.
Y/n's POV:
I wake up before Negan and decide to read my book some more in the living room. It's a romance novel that I found one day in an abandoned car. I've read it four times already, but it seems to be the only romance I'll ever get in life, so why the fuck not.
"Morning, sunshine." Negan says sleepily as he walks towards the kitchen next to the living room. He grabs a handful of berries we picked yesterday and tosses them in his mouth before making me a cup full and putting them down next to me.
"Morning. Thanks." I say without looking at him.
He sits on the couch next to me. "You wanna talk about last night?"
My cheeks redden. "Nope."
"Okay, then I will." Great, here comes the lecture. "Y/n, I shouldn't have watched you. We both know that. But, I think you're just confused. It's just been the two of us for months now and you're all young and.. fucking horny and shit. But, us? It can't happen."
I stay silent, pretending to read my book.
"Seriously? The silent treatment? You sure did have a lot to say last night."
I remain stubbornly quiet, popping a handful of berries in my mouth.
"Y/n, I don't understand why you're upset right now. Talk to me."
"I'm not upset." I snap. "I'm embarrassed.. humiliated. I was stupid to think you'd ever be into me."
He sighs and I see his head drop out of the corner of my eye. "Darlin', if I was your age, I'd be all fucking over you. Trust me. Please don't be embarrassed, okay? You are hot as shit and any man your age would be lucky to have you. We can forget it happened if that's what you want." He holds his arm out again, and like always, I snuggle into him.
"I don't want to forget." My hand rests against his white t-shirt and I want so badly to slide underneath it and run my fingers through is tummy hair.
A moment of silence goes by before he finally whispers. "Me neither, doll."
I look up at him, my face dangerously close to his. "I love you, Negan."
His hand reaches up to caress my face as if he's scared to hurt me. "I love you too, baby... Just not like that."
He wipes the tear that falls from my cheek and my heart shatters in my chest.
One month later...
My feelings for Negan haven't faded; I'm just better at not showing them. We've been more touchier than usual... cuddling on the couch, holding hands when we walk, but nothing "inappropriate." We also haven't mentioned that night. It's like it never happened, which still hurts when I think about it.
I get done bathing myself off after dinner and slip into my usual sleepwear before crashing to the bed and pulling my book from the nightstand. I could quote every line in it by now.
I start to drift off right before a loud boom hits right outside my window, following a bright flash of lightning. I try to fall asleep, but every time I doze off, another loud boom jolts me awake. I toss and turn for an hour before deciding to do something I know I shouldn't.
I crack Negan's door open slowly, trying not to wake him and gently slip into bed next to him. I also may or may not have taken my sleep shorts off, leaving me in just my pink panties and black tank top. I ease underneath the covers and lay facing him. He's usually a light sleeper, so between the thunder and me sneaking into his bed, I'm surprised he's not awake.
I'm completely still for a good ten minutes, making sure he's still sound asleep before I make any movements. When he lets out a little snore, I slowly slide the blanket down off of him. I imagine myself reaching over and running my fingers through his thick chest hair. I keep sliding the covers down further and further, careful not to wake him, until I get to just below the waistband of his boxers. My eyes trail from the deep v in his abdomen to the black hairs peaking above his underwear and I let myself imagine what it would be like to touch him right now.. to slide my hand down his boxers and feel him. I've wondered how big he is for so long.. trying to steal glimpses of him through his pants when he walks, or catch him with the covers down while he's sleeping.
I decide to pull the covers slightly further down and my mouth gapes open at the sight. He's hard.. so hard that I can see the outline of him through his boxers as it threatens to poke through his underwear. My mouth waters at his size and I know if he ever put it in me, it would definitely hurt like hell.
After I've stared at it long enough to feel like a total creep, my eyes travel back up his body and I almost yelp when I see his head is slightly turned and his eyes are watching me curiously, as if he's been waiting for me to make a move.
"I - uh.. The thunder.. I got scared." I explain.
"Nice try, kid. Go back to bed."
"Negan, please. Just let me sleep here. Nothing weird, I just.. don't wanna be alone."
He sighs and that alone tells me he's going to let me. I hide my excitement as I turn over, facing away from him and snuggling into the covers. They smell like him.. musk and leather.. and the scent makes me practically feral. He's still on his back, but my ass is barely touching his side. It's hardly anything, and it's not like we haven't cuddled before, but the thought of my ass so close to him sets my insides on fire.
Another lightning strike hits outside his window this time and I flinch a little, not purposely meaning for my ass to press into him even more. He doesn't react and I wonder if he's already asleep.
"Negan...?" I say softly.
"Hm?"
"Will you hold me?"
"Y/n, you are seriously pushing it. Go to sleep."
a few minutes go by before another boom echoes in the distance and I jump a little again.
He sighs heavily and turns over, draping his arm over my waist and pressing his body firmly against mine. His dick is pressed against my ass, but it's not as hard anymore... and that hurts a little.
"Go to fucking sleep."
I hold his hand tightly against my lower stomach and embrace this moment with him. I want him so bad that I can literally feel my vagina throbbing. If it could speak, it would be meowing like a cat in heat right now. I close my eyes and imagine him sliding in me from behind. I get a little too lost in the thought and accidentally arch a little, grinding my ass further into him. I feel him grow to full length against me and the feeling is enough for me to squeeze my legs together, desperate for some pressure down there.
"Where the fuck are your shorts?" He says in a deep and sleepy voice.
I giggle as he breathes heavily into my neck before whispering again.
"What the hell am I gonna do with you, baby?"
"Touch me?"
"I'm already touching you, y/n. My fucking dick is basically between your ass cheeks."
"Not yet.. my panties are in the way." I slip my panties off my legs smoothly and discard them on the floor.
"Y/n." He warns but before he can tell me no, I'm bare from the waist down and pressing my ass back against him.
"Trying to give this old man a heart attack?" He chuckles deeply.
"I can try harder than that if you want me to." I tease.
"Fuck, baby. Go to sleep before I do something we'll both regret."
"Like what?"
"...Like pound that pussy so fucking good you'll never think about another man's cock but mine."
"If you love me, wouldn't you want to be the one to give that to me for the first time? Wouldn't you rather it be you than some asshole who doesn't care about me."
He doesn't answer, so I keep pressing him. I place my hand back on top of his resting against my stomach and slowly slide it lower towards my aching center.
"Don't start something you can't finish, darlin'."
"Oh, I'm very determined to finish." I spread my legs apart slightly to guide his hand over my wet center. His middle finger easily slides between my slippery folds and we both moan at the feeling.
"Goddamn. Fucking dripping for daddy. He growls in my ear before leaning up a little and pressing his lips to my neck from behind. I move my hand from his, letting him take control - finally.
His finger moves back and forth between my wet slit, gliding over my clit every few seconds and making me moan each time. His other hand slips under me and up to my neck, gently squeezing my throat.
"This what you wanted, baby?" He breathes in my ear and chills spread over every inch of my skin.
I nod quickly as I feel my orgasm build from just his light touch. He hasn't even put a finger in me and I'm already on the verge of tears.
As soon as his finger rubs tiny circles over my clit, I lose it.. moaning out for him.
"Thaaat's it, cum for daddy, babygirl."
"Negan!" I scream out as his hand goes from my neck to my mouth, muffling the sound.
"Don't need the dead hearing us, doll."
He kisses my neck once I've soaked his fingers and then brings them to his mouth.
"Mmm, fuck, this pussy tastes so good I might have to eat it everyday."
I turn around in his arms to face him. My hand goes up to hold his face and my fingers play with his gray hair. He kisses my forehead before meeting my gaze.
"This is so wrong, baby." He strokes my cheek gently.
"Can't be wrong if it feels this good."
He tilts my chin up to press his lips against mine. It's so much better than I ever imagined. He knows exactly what he's doing, and even though I've never kissed anyone, he takes the lead and I'm thankful for it. I moan into his mouth when he deepens the kiss, his hand gripping the back of my neck now. The feeling of is tongue in my mouth makes me clench my legs again, and I think he notices because his hand on my neck travels lower until it reaches the back of my thigh. He lifts my leg over his and his hand slides to my ass, squeezing lightly before his long fingers tease my entrance from behind.
His dick is pressed into me painfully and I can't wait any longer. I need to touch him. Feel him inside me.
I reach my hand inside his boxers and pull out his big, hard cock. I try looking at it under the covers between us.
"You've never seen a dick before, doll?"
I shake my head no and admire him. It's so perfect.
He closes his eyes as I stroke it. "Fuck. So innocent, baby."
He kisses my neck while I pull on him even more. "You sure you want this, baby?"
I nod. "Yes, please. I've been wanting this for so long, Negan."
He lines himself up at my opening, my leg still draped over his so that he's in between my legs.
"Once we do this, you're mine darlin'."
"I'm already yours."
That's all he needs to hear to finally push the tip past my opening. I've never had anything inside of me other than a finger, and the feeling of his thick head pushing through me and stretching my walls has my mouth falling open.
"Tell me to stop, baby."
"No, keep going. Please." I beg.
He slides deeper and deeper until he's buried inside me completely. He stays still, letting me adjust. and kisses me through the pain. A pain that feels so good. I kiss him back hard, scratching his back while grinding my waist pathetically against him repeatedly. I moan in his ear and give him the go ahead to start moving. He fucks me deep and slow at first, letting me get used to him.
"So fucking tight baby."
He growls in my ear and vibration of his deep voice sends chills through me again until my pussy flutters around him.
"Holy fuck, doll. Do that again."
I squeeze my cunt around him again and he lets out the hottest moan I've ever heard. Not that I've heard a man moan before, but I just know that his are the hottest.
"I won't last if you keep doing that, baby." He warns and the thought of him shooting his load inside me has my head spinning.
After a few more thrusts that have my eyes rolling to the back of my head, I feel myself reaching my orgasm again and hold him against me so I can grind against him and ride it out.
"Negan, Negan, oh my god.” I breathe out as I push myself so hard against him that my clit rubs against his pubic bone creating the friction I need to send me over the edge.
"Goddamn." He thrusts into me faster and harder. "Gonna make me fucking cum already, baby." He tries to pull out but you tighten your leg around him so he can't pull away.
"Cum in me, Negan. Please." I cry desperately. "I love you. I want all of you."
He kisses me hard before his hips come to a halt. He practically yells out when he shoots his load deep inside me. "Ah, fuck! Babyyy."
The sound of Negan cumming is even hotter than his moaning from earlier - I didn't think it could get any better but holy shit. We're both a tangled, sweaty mess while our hearts beat out of our chest.
We eventually fall asleep with our lips still touching and his softening dick still inside me.
I don't even worry about the possibility of what could happen in the future.. I know I'm safe with Negan.. Here in our little cabin. He gently strokes my hair as we drift back off to sleep.
BOOM. The thunder crashes outside again, but this time I don't even flinch.
"You're not scared of thunder, are you, doll?"
I smile against his chest. "...No."
The End.
Brb, going to take an ice bath.
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Text
𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒓
Eddie munson x fem!reader
Summary: not much of a plot here. You go to Eddie for some of that marriage iguana.
Warnings:smut, slight choking, some praising. Mention of drugs (weed), no use of y/n, Eddie refers to the reader as baby, good girl, and sweetheart.
Word count: 1.2k
A/n: Not proofread. I don't know where this came from. I got bored and was desperate to write a little smut.
18+ minors dni
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You were only supposed to be going to your neighbor for some weed. That's it. That's all you need. No sex this time around you repeated to yourself. You just needed a little bit to help get you through through the rest of the week.
Work had been hell for you. On top of just life being difficult in general. you needed something to help ease your nerves. Eddie hated random visits. Except when it came to you. His "favorite" he'd call you. No matter what you knew you could count on him for just about anything.
You knocked pretty hard on his front door. Three fast knocks followed and then nothing. He didn't come to the door. You waited and waited. Still no answer. When it was obvious Eddie wasn't going to answer the door your let yourself in. You knew he was home. His van was parked right there next to an old broken TV.
He didn't care if you just walked in. Matter, of fact, he even offered to give you a key once. You eased your way through the front door and made your way over to his bedroom. A room you've become very familiar with over these last few months. You saw him lounging back with a guitar over his lap. He was strumming away lazily on the cords.
Eddie heard you walking through the kitchen to the back slowly over to him. You don't know how he heard you over his playing.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite customer. What will it be today? Weed or my dick?". He half joked, putting his guitar down next to him.
His humor could be mistaken for arrogance by anyone who didn't know him.
You crossed your arms over your chest." Just the weed this time, smart ass."
"Fine, I'll only be a sweet ass." His remarked sarcastically. Eddie made a face and raised his hands up in surrender.
At this point, you don't know what your relationship is with him. You definitely didn't want it to end, though. You did enjoy the friendly back and forth banter. Even if you acted annoyed, you really weren't. The sex was great, too. That was something else you didn't want to end either.
Eddie grabbed the little baggy off his vanity. He knew what you liked and how many ounces you bought from him. He walked over to you, dangling the weed in front of your face.
"Ya sure?" He raised an eyebrow at you. He tossed the bag in your hands. You knew what he was getting at. You knew what he was hinting at.
"Ya sure?" You repeated in your mind.
"I'm sure." You hesitantly spoke. You and him stared at each other for a couple of minutes. Only to you, it felt like hours. You were lying, and he could tell.
Now you find yourself naked in his bed yet again. your legs were spread wide open. His body pressed on top of yours. The head of his cock rubbing against your clit. You did this every time you went to him for something. You never just left with whatever you came by for.
Eddie had his hand around your throat. He stops teasing your clit and drags the head of cock to your opening. He slowly pushed himself in to your dripping cunt. Once he was completely inside of you. He stills for just a few moments so you can get used to the stretch. Eddie let out a long, deep moan, sighing with pleasure feeling your walls hugging around his cock. All it took was one wrong move and he would cum immediately.
"Ooh god!" Your voice croaked. His windows were wide open in his trailer. Anyone outside could probably hear you.
"Better be quiet baby don't want the neighbors to know what we're getting up to in here." Eddie warned. He didn't care who could hear. But he loved to mess with you.
You pout but nodded. "I'll try to be quiet." You didn't care who could hear you anymore.
"Mmm, you're such a good girl." Eddie purrs in your ear, causing you to whine. He pulls back and slams into you harder.
Your body jolts forward, and the grip he has on your throat tightens. You wrap your legs tight around his lower back, helping him go deeper inside you. You were moaning so loud calling out his name.
He licks the shell of your ear. "You feel so good, baby." His voice is low and husky, sending a shiver up your spine. "So fking wet and tight-"
"Eddie, please!" You begged.
He makes a mocking pout. "Please, what?" His eyebrows raised slightly.
"Pleeeease," you beg him again over and over.
"Be a good girl and tell me what you want. You know I have no problem giving you what you need." Eddie smirked, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip.
You're trying to find your words. His drags his cock almost all the way out of your cunt leaving only his tip. Your head feels like it's spinning. Your face is getting hot, and your body is covered in sweat. He was breathing heavier and grunting louder.
"F-faster- I need you to fuck me faster." You continued to beg. Eddie was leaving wet kisses all down your chest with his hand still holding your throat. His other hand moved to squeeze your hip.
"That's my girl." He praises and drives his cock back inside your aching cunt. He lets go of your neck to caress your cheek.
You leaned into his hand as his pace quickened. The springs in his bed squeak with every thrust of his cock. Your eyes squeezed shut. Your moans sound almost desperate as he pumps cock inside you. Your walls clenching around him. Earning you low groan from his soft lips.
you can't speak or barely think. You're trying so hard to say anything at all. You couldn't even mutter a thank you. You can’t even remember why you went over to his place to begin with. Was it for weed? Did another pipe bust in your bathroom? You dont know, and you dont care.
"I," you paused, licking your lips, "i- shit..." You fumbled over your words. No one has ever made you feel like this before. Your walls were pulsating around him. He was hitting your g-spot just right with every hard thrust.
Eddie has you so cock drunk you can't form a cohesive thought. He formed a sly smirk on his face when he saw you struggle to speak. He noticed you were getting frustrated with yourself.
"Mmmfph! Ed-" your body was writhing underneath his. Your was hung open. Your eyes were all glassy. Your whiny moans were deafening almost.
The loud schlick sound his cock made when he plunged it in your tight cunt. Your walls pulsating around him. You could feel every inch of him.
Eddie shook his head again and laughed to himself. He kept hearing you stammering over your words. He felt a little bad. Just a little. But he loved watching you get this way. It was such an ego boost for him.
So he decided to speak for you. He already has an idea of what you were trying to say. Your nails were digging into his back. You knew you probably were drawing some blood from him. They were practically embedded into his skin.
"I know, sweetheart, I know." Eddie cooed, griping both of your hips now. "M'gonna take real good care of you."
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muldermuse · 2 months
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An Unlikely Hero (ex boyfriend!Billy Butcher x reader)
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this is going to be a multi part series!!! i love exboyfriend!butcher and he is on my mind constantly. if u would like to read more about him here’s some more posts! if you wanna talk about him pls send me your thoughts ❤️ dividers by @saradika ❤️
part one: the first date
OR
the first time you meet Billy Butcher
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You swore to yourself that this was the last Tinder date you’d subject yourself to. Last week, you matched and met with Jack who had a Homelander sleeve tattoo and cried to you about how hard it was to be a ‘true American’ nowadays.  The week before that, it was Shay who seemed sweet but kept trying to ply you with drinks and invite you back to his place (he bragged that his ‘folks were out of town’, which would be impressive if you were a hell of a lot younger than you actually are). This week’s date is named Harry and he’s just not right for you. You thought it over texts but as soon as you sat down with him tonight; it was confirmed. It’s not even like you have a great previous relationship as a point for comparison, all romantic love has been fleeting and, with how things are going currently, you imagine it always will be.
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It's a few hours later and Harry’s suddenly a lot drunker than you. You’ve moved from the overpriced restaurant to your favourite bar. The drinks are questionable in that they’re both incredibly cheap and very strong. You grab two stools at the bar which is overwise empty, apart from one man nursing a whiskey. You’re sure Harry’s drunker than you because he’s currently sobbing into his craft beer about how he hasn’t felt a connection with anyone since his ex-girlfriend, who left him 3 months ago for a co-worker.
“Like, you’re nice y’know. You seem like a nice girl” you try not to recoil at the phrase “but my ex? She was great. There’s no one else who’s ev-hic-ever been like her and there never will be”. The guy sat next to you at the bar mutters a “fuckin’ ell” under his breath as he gestures towards the bartender for another neat whiskey. His accent is completely out of place in this local dive bar; he sounds European. No trace of an american accent so you consider that he could be a tourist who’s wandered into a bar looking for a cold drink and some respite.
You try not to smirk at the utterance and tune back into what Harry’s saying, “I think we’ve both just gone through the motions tonight, don’t you agree? I can tell you’re not really into me and to be honest, I’m not into you”. You kind of admire his candor because he’s right, you’re not into him in the slightest but the next thing out of his mouth quickly dispels any misplaced respect you held for him. “I’ve been real lonely since she left though…maybe you could come back to my place-hic-she’s uh…some of her stuff is still there but there’s not a lot of it in the bedroom”. He’s that plastered that what he assumed would be a casual hand slide up your thigh becomes a full push, hurtling you into the whiskey sipping man next to you. You fall into his chest, it’s strong and kind of feels like slamming into a wall. 
“Right, tha’s fuckin’ it” the potential tourist speaks and it’s only when he stands up that you realise how broad he is. He’s tall with thick black hair and the beard to match. His outfit is seemingly prepared for a spectrum of weathers with a Hawaiian shirt clashing with a thick overcoat. He’s older than you, definitely older but absolutely attractive. More attractive than anyone you’d seen on Tinder or, probably, ever in your life. “You alright there darlin’?” his dark eyes bore into yours as you nod and cough out a meek ‘yes’. You silently curse yourself, the first thing you say to this strong man makes you sound like a small frightened mouse.
“’M jus’ gonna get rid of your little pal there and then I’ll buy ya a drink- alright?” his hand rubs your bare arm and sends a flurry of goosebumps across your skin. The whole interaction feels more charged than anything you’ve had before with another human, you wonder if he’s feeling it too and pray that he is.
“Oh nice one man, I’ll have uh…another craft” Harry gestures towards the tap, completely oblivious to the situation in front of him
“All you’re fuckin’ gettin’ cunt is a helpin’ hand out that fuckin’ door. Now, I’ll ask ya politely one last fuckin’ time…fuck off” he elongates the 3 letter word. A comically confused look spreads across Harry’s face. “’M on a fucking date here man and she’s coming back to mine, aren’t you?”
“No” you quickly deadpan, shaking your head at the still unnamed man.
“There’s your answer then cunt, off ya fuck” 
“Butcher- no fuckin’ blood on my bar this time man” the bartender shouts whilst idly checking his phone. Butcher? Is that the guy’s name? 
Harry stands up, pushing out his chest which, if anything, only exaggerates how small he is in comparison. “I’ve bought her meal, paid for her drink and I’m go-hic-gonna take her back to my place and fuck her”. He finishes his sentence in Butcher’s face. Whilst you see a flicker of fear cross Harry’s expression; Butcher’s look borders on hysterical. 
“Alright then big fella, I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen” he slams his hand down on Harry’s shoulder, his eyes now boring into his. “You’re gonna fuck off back to your shitty little home, grab some lube, cry and wank to ya heart’s content about your ex who is probably ridin’ some big fat fuckin’ dick right now-yeah?” Butcher nods as if Harry’s going to agree with him.
Your date goes to interrupt but Butcher presses a finger to his quaking lips before he can start, “what’s not gonna happen, my sad little mate, is that you’re going to fuck her. She’s hadta listen to your fuckin’ whinin’ about your ex all night whilst you’ve fuckin’ insulted this gorgeous woman. So, get out before I throw ya through the fuckin’ window”. Harry’s lost for words, he doesn’t make eye contact with you as you stand silently behind Butcher. You see tears brimming in his eyes as he smacks $20 on the bar top. 
“Fuckin’ old asshole” Harry spits as he shoves past the pair of you.
Butcher smirks at the remark, watching the door swing shut behind Harry before turning to you. “Right darlin’, whatcha havin’?” 
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It’s the best date you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a real date. You finally got his full name. Billy Butcher. Your heart races just to say it. He’s from London but has been in the States for a while. He asks all about you and you surprisingly find you’ve got a lot in common. He’s funny, charming and really fucking exciting- you have to admit. By the third drink, the chat goes from conversational to more flirty. 
“The bartender said ‘this time’, do you do this a lot? Love saving a damsel in distress? Are you a hero, Billy Butcher?” you smirk at him and he returns it back to you. There’s lust in his eyes and you see him take your appearance in for what feels like the upteenth time since you sat down.
As he goes to speak, the bell rings for last orders and he takes your hand to help you off the bar stool. You down the remnants of your drink together and he puts his arm around you and escorts you out of the bar.
You don’t want it to end, he lights a cigarette and you thank any higher deity for the extra thinking seconds it gives you. He speaks before you get chance, “Will ya let me walk you home darlin’? Swear on my mum’s life I won’t try any funny business”. He holds his hand out like he’s making a scouts honour. Honestly, you do anything to spend a bit more time with him so you smile, link your arm with his and pull him down the quiet streets.
The air makes you feel drunker than you are. If you were sober, there is no way you’d be giggling like a school girl at everything this man is saying, yet here you are. Your arms are linked and you’re resting your head on his shoulders as you tell him about your horrific dating history. Everytime he laughs and accuses you of exaggerating you say, “Billy Butcher, I would never ever lie to you”. You say it because his name feels so fun sliding off your tongue. You barely see anyone on your walk home and the sound of your shared laughter fills the empty streets.
As you turn down your street, you wish you lived miles away so you could keep walking together for hours. Your stomach drops at the thought that you’ll never see him again. Which, you completely realise, is fucking stupid. This stranger threatened your date to leave but he also made you feel safe and laugh harder than you have in months. You pull his stride to a stop outside your house. It feels like some awful hallmark romcom or trashy romance novel.
You thank him for escorting you home and he turns down a nightcap in your house as “it’s not gentlemanly on the first date”. He shoots you a wicked grin again as he says, “my mum would be spinnin’ in her grave darlin’”.
You try not to let the heartbreak from that sentence show on your expression. “You’re a gentleman, Billy Butcher?”
“The best one around darlin’. I’ll prove it tomorrow when I take ya out for lunch”
A brief flare of anger hits you, “yeah, I hear that all the fucking time. The lunch never happens, I don’t see you again but then we bump into each other at the store and you apologise and say you’ll be in touch which, of course, you never will be”. You regret it as soon as you stop speaking.
Before you can apologise, he grabs a sharpie out of his coat pocket, takes your hand and scribbles down his number. “There, alright? You call me at any time gorgeous and I swear, I’ll fuckin’ answer and come runnin’”
His kiss to your cheek is soft yet restrained. “You’ll forget about me Billy Butcher, I know it”.
“S’not fuckin’ possible, darlin’”. He says goodnight and walks down your street. A plume of cigarette smoke trailing after him.
He keeps his word.
40 minutes later, and after one final glass of wine, you call him.
He answers on the first ring and says your name. He tells you where to meet tomorrow and what time to get there.
You hope he can always keep his promises.
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penny00dreadful · 11 months
Text
Before He Cheats
AO3
“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.
“Is that really how you answer the phone?”
Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”
“Suppose.”
“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”
“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”
“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”
The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 
Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.
“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”
“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”
“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”
“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”
“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”
Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”
“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”
Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”
There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 
“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”
“How long?”
Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 
They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 
Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 
They’d never really felt all that funny.
Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 
They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 
More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.
Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 
But that was no excuse to cheat. 
At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 
“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”
“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 
If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.
Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.
Didn’t make him any less pissed.
“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 
But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.
“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”
Eddie pursed his lips. 
“Please hold.”
He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 
Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 
He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 
“Still there?”
“Yes. Ow, by the way.”
Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 
“Send it on.”
Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.
Well. 
Shit. 
There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 
Ugh.
Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 
@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair
Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.
It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.
God damn.
But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 
“Steve, is it?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.
Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”
“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”
Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.
Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 
That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.
He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 
He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 
He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 
It felt wrong.
Even though he was pretty much single now.
Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 
But fuck him. 
He’d find out.
One way or the other.
And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.
But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.
No tonight he would just… hurt.
And smoke.
A lot.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”
Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 
The screen had gone black.
“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”
Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”
“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”
Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”
“Oh-”
“How do you feel about a video call?”
A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.
“A video call is fine.”
“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 
He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 
He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 
Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.
Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 
He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.
Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.
He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 
Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.
He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 
He looked so soft. 
Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.
“Eddie?”
“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.
“You okay?”
He shrugged. “I will be.”
“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”
Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.
“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”
“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”
“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”
“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”
“Suppose not.”
“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”
Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.
“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”
“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 
Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 
“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.
“I am, I guess.”
Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 
That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.
“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”
“So we can both be sad and angry together.”
“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.
“We can be sad and angry together.”
Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.
“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”
Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 
“No.”
It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.
Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 
“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”
“Shut up.”
“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.
Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”
“Okay?”
“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”
“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”
Eddie nodded. 
That he could understand. 
“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”
“Woulda hurt me plenty.”
“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”
“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”
“Just his decisions are bad.”
“Exactly.”
“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”
“To us, Stevie. To us.”
“Right, so what’s the plan then?”
“When are you due to see him next?”
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Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.
But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 
He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.
Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.
Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.
They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.
They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.
It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.
After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.
Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.
He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 
She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 
She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 
Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.
Again, adorable.
Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 
The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.
Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.
He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 
Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.
He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.
He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 
They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.
Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 
Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.
Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.
Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 
He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.
When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.
Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.
With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.
At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.
Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 
Rick knew fuck all about cars. 
Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.
Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.
A second Shania song had started up. 
He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 
He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 
He’d failed miserably. 
Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.
With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.
Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”
Okay, only a few seconds left.
Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.
The bat was fucking stuck.
Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.
“What the fuck?!”
Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.
To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 
But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 
Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.
“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.
“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.
Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 
Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.
With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 
They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.
He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”
As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.
When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.
Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.
AO3
@geekymagicalpotato
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.
998 notes · View notes
grippingbeskar · 2 years
Text
two is hardly a crowd
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— john price x fem!reader
— warnings: explicit content minors dni (age gap, mxf, dirty talk) swearing, mention of death and injury
— a/n: i’m so in love with this man. oh my god.
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“You wanted to see me, Captain?” You say through the door, knocking a few times.
“Come in.” He calls back, and you try to still your hand as it reaches for the doorknob. Every time he calls for you, you can’t predict what will happen. Some times he’s all work no play, giving you assignments like he does the rest of the 141 with a straight face and serious look in his eyes.
Other times, it’s… less business, more pleasure. He smiles more, offers you a drink. Jokes with you. Flirts… you think, but you weren’t entirely sure Price meant it. You don’t have the most experience with this kind of thing, but he certainly isn’t having those kinds of meetings with Soap or Ghost. He doesn’t compliment them at all, let alone sweet talk them like he does to you. It’s only really when you’re between missions, and almost always when everyone else has gone out for the night or gone off base. He knows you don’t leave even on off days— Price is observant, and the only other one who stays, too.
Swallowing, you push the door open. You know everyone’s gone home this break— Gaz just left last night, and he was only here this long because he couldn’t get a flight out. Now, you knew it was just you and the Captain. It made you as nervous as it did excited, considering the embarrassing crush you were nursing for him.
“I really hope you aren’t telling me I have to spend the year locked up in the cockpit of a jet.” Taking a seat in front of him, you watch the curl of his mouth form around a lit cigar. He leans back, and your eyes are drawn to the stark lack of papers or files open on his desk. All of them are stacked in piles. All closed cases.
“Nothin’ like that, don’t worry.” You watch him closely as he pours himself a glass of scotch. Then, he pushes the full one towards you. “How you holdin’ up?”
“Fine.” You reply, trying not to think too hard about the last few weeks. It was rough— all your missions are, but the burn of the scotch now going down your throat and the undivided attention from Price makes it a bit easier to forget. “Starting to understand why you all drink so much, though.”
“You did well out there, not that you need me tellin’ you.” He looks at you under the brim of his hat, still sandy from the return. You wonder if he ever washes that thing, or if he’s superstitious, like it’ll wash the luck off or something. “All the boys were impressed. So was I.”
“Thank you, Captain.” You try to hide the obvious heat that spreads to your body, nearly making you squint. Of course it was good to be recognised, but hearing it from him. ‘So was I’. You impressed him. “Is— was there something you needed me to do?”
“Just hate to think of you wastin’ your off time in the barracks. I’m not takin’ the jet, so I was gonna offer it to you. Get out of here for a bit, see your family.” The sentiment was sweet, and the idea that he was thinking of you nearly overshadowed his offer.
“I appreciate it, but I don’t… see my family. Besides, I’m not a big fan of flying. I like to avoid it, when I can.” The fact you’d just spent almost a month flying between bases and never said a thing makes Price lean forward, eyebrows raised. It was a stupid fear to have, but it was there nonetheless.
“Take a car, then. Go see— something. Anything.” His forearms were on the table, leaning toward you. His shoulders are slumped slightly, about as relaxed as he gets.
“You trying to get rid of me, Captain?” He laughs dryly, taking the cigar out of his mouth again to finish off his drink. You follow him, needing the liquid courage.
“Course not, love. You just shouldn’t be hangin’ around here at your age. Let us old guys sit and rot, but you— go live a little.” Almost choking on your drink, you bite down on your bottom lip as you swallow. Love. Love. Fucking hell, you’ve been less tense while staring at the barrel of a shotgun.
“You aren’t that old.” You say meekly, dropping your gaze from his intense one.
“Don’t change the subject.” His voice is dripping with authority, one that simultaneously drops you into line and makes you need to shift on your seat. “Why are you still here?”
“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” That shuts him up for a second. Your family probably thinks you’re dead— if they know you’re alive, they don’t care enough to check in. Any friends you had drifted away when you became too hard to reach, missing birthdays and never coming home for holidays— always working. Once you joined the 141, they stopped trying completely. You didn’t mind. You only wanted to focus on your job. The next mission. Keeping people safe. These guys were all the family you needed. Plus, Price was here.
It was hard to find a good enough reason to leave him, and the kindness he always showed you was ten times more than you’d get if you really went home. It was more than enough to feed your ridiculous crush on him, too, which you couldn’t figure out if it was a good or a bad thing.
“Ah.” He says after a while, and then fills up your glass. The action mixed with the subtle uncomfortable look on his face, like he’s not sure what to do, makes you laugh out loud. The sound seems to relax him again. “Can’t argue with that.”
“Well, why are you still hanging around base?” You take another sip, the honey flavour of the liquor easing the burning taste. “You’re not afraid of flying too, are you?”
“I think I’ve seen enough of the world by now. Happy where I am.” Before your heartbeat can catch up, he keeps talking. “Besides, the company’s not all bad.”
Your face gets so hot you think you might break out into a sweat. It was definitely one of those kinds of meetings. Your favourite. These kinds of talks with him, where you get to see the man under the title and pressure of the job. Price, as you’ve discovered, is smooth. A gentleman, of course, but such a sweet talker. You only ever see it here, alone with him, but you can never stop thinking about it when it happens.
“If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.” You say, stumbling straight over his compliment. He makes you so confused— you’re usually straight as a steel blade. Impossible to bend, strong willed and focused. With him… you can’t even think. “But you… you don’t have anyone to go visit? You said you aren’t taking the jet. I’m sure your wife would be missing you.”
“If I had one, I’m sure she’d of left me by now.” You honestly hadn’t been sure if he had family. You had a feeling he did… look at him. There’s no way a man that looks like this, talks the way he does isn’t dodging women left right and centre. “When have people like us got the time for date nights, aye?”
“Soap does it. Gaz. It’s not impossible.” Your glass clanks against the wooden table as you set it down, and Price’s eyes seem to light up a little. “I mean… I’m sure you could find someone if you— if you wanted to.”
“You got me there.” He fakes a little surrender, his hands rising off the table. You almost didn’t realise how close he was until he sets them down again, fingers nearly brushing against your skin. “What makes you so sure?”
“You’re…nice.” He laughs, bringing the cigar back up to his mouth. You watch him intently, smoke curling and fogging in front of his face. Ash drops onto the desk, and his giant hands swipe it away quickly.
“Nice.”
“Mhmm.”
“That all?” Your throat feels dry. He was looking at you so closely. Like he could see through you, right to how fast your heart was beating. Like he could see your thoughts in a cloud above your head, as clear and thick as the smoke in front of him.
“Fishing for compliments, Captain?”
“It’s John.” You suck in a low breath at the sound of his first name. Your eyes nearly flutter shut. “And can you blame me? Pretty girl like you, maybe I could get some ideas since you wanna marry me off so quick.”
It was subtle. So like him, smooth and easy, but it hits you like a freight train. That cross of a line in such a short, stupid little sentence, but he knows he’s made a touch down when you smile and hide your face. You were a soldier, for fucks sake— but he had you blushing and smiling like you were a kid.
“I’m just saying, Ca—John. You are nice. You deserve something like that to go home to.” The sentence wasn’t well thought out, two glasses of scotch going straight to your head, but it was true.
God, how you have thought about being that for him. Let him come back from a long mission, take the stress out of his shoulders and have him really relax. He was always so on all the time, so much pressure running the team. He was fucking good at it too, which was worse for your crush on him. You just wanted to take care of him like he took care of everything for you and the team every single time—
“I think I’ve got all I need right here.” You blink up at him, hands gripping the side of your chair. His head is tilted slightly, a smirk on his face. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, love. Like I said, I’m exactly where I wanna be.”
His voice is low. Lower than before. Maybe you’re just drunk, but his eyes seem a little darker, too.
“On base with me, eating leftovers? Sounds like a real fun t—“
“Yeah. I want to be here with you.” You don’t take a breath for a good five seconds. Just let the confession hang in the air. It’s thick, full of smoke and tension, and the burn across your face is either from embarrassment or pure need.
He wanted to be here, alone, with you. Until now it was easy to sign all these passing comments and looks off to pure coincidence. Maybe even a lack of options, being one of the only straight females on base. But with the way he was looking at you now, it was anything but.
“Are you messing with me?” Your eyes nearly shut completely, suddenly feeling the warmth of his hand on yours. His covers you completely, thumb tracing along your knuckles. They’re still blue and green from the fading bruises of the last mission, and he pays extra care not to press to hard.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes stay on your touching hands, the rough pads of his fingers drawing aimless lines on your skin. “I’m patient, but I’m only a man. Only so much time I can wait before I blow myself to bits keeping this to myself.”
“Keeping what to yourself ?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper.
“I’m your Captain.” He says like it’s a confession, and your heart is beating so fast he can probably hear it with those trained ears.
“I know that.” He makes a noise like he’s in pain, going to pull away, but you’re faster and catch his arm. “Tell me anyway.”
“It’s… you mean something to me. A lot. More than I can chalk up to just admiration. I want to take you out.” He says, his voice trained, like he’s using every ounce of bravery he’s got to get the words out. Only then does he finally look up at you, his pupils nearly overtaking his eyes. “I want to see you outside this place. I don’t wanna be looking over my shoulder every three seconds makin’ sure no one’s watching the way I’m staring at you. You’re in my head. Can’t get you out of it. I want to do this the real way. The right way.”
“I—“
“But if you don’t feel the same, you’ll never have to hear it again. Trust me. I’ll learn to live with it. I— it’d just kill me if I never asked.” He runs over your sentence, then leans back, taking a few puffs of the cigar like a reflex.
“You really aren’t messing with me?” Your hands were reaching out instinctively, missing his touch, as fleeting as it was.
“No, love. Just been working up the courage.” You were grinning like an idiot at his expression. The composed face of your Captain had folded in on itself, now replaced by the man you knew was underneath— admittedly a little more nervous than you were familiar with. “Is that… do you—“
“Oh! Yes. Yeah— fuck yes. I’d really like that.” Nodding rapidly, his head hangs back and he sighs a little in relief. Adjusting his hat, he watches you smile at him, fondness dancing in his eyes.
“Guess I wasn’t the only one thinking about it?” He asks, tilting his head.
“Nah. The foods just really shitty on base. I’d do anything for a good meal.”
“Ah. Of course.” He squints, smirking as you laugh. He takes another drag of the cigar, and you watch his mouth intensely— letting your eyes linger with the safety of his confession. “Well, can’t deny a pretty face like yours, can I?”
“In that case, I haven’t eaten since this morning.” You say, the words fumbling out of your mouth before you have a chance to reign them in.
“It’s nine o’clock, Private.” He chides, the tone of his voice making you squirm in your seat. “You wanna go now?”
“You’ve been patient enough, haven’t you?” Your leg bounces with all the extra energy you suddenly have, mind wiring with thoughts of where he would take you. He stands up, and you follow him, pushing your chair back as he clears the distance around the table in two steps.
Those giant black boots, ones he still hasn’t changed out of since coming back. They were tracking dirt and mud all over the hard wood floor, and you had a feeling he’s never had anyone tell him to take his shoes off before he came inside. Probably why he wears his camouflage jacket everywhere, too. You hate to imagine the state of his real place, wherever that may be. He keeps walking towards the door, unlocking it and nodding towards you.
“Come on, then. Better move if you want anything other than pizza.” He smirks, and you really could walk out the door. You could, and make him take you out to a nice dinner. He’d be sweet, and you know you’d probably ask him a thousand questions that he would answer without skipping a beat. And you want that— you do. You’d thought about it more times than you’d admit out loud. You’d get there.
But right now, you had too much adrenaline. It was like being on a mission— heart racing, antsy to just jump in with both feet and not look back. There was something about living the life you did that made you not want to wait for anything anymore. Now, you had been so, so patient with Price, because you had to be. But now it was right there in front of you, standing at the open door.
A kick in your step sends you right up to the door, your hand slowly pushing against his grip on it. It’s squeaky and obvious what you’re doing— and his eyebrows raise higher and higher, eyes flicking down to you when the lock clicks shut.
“Not hungry?” He rasps, taking a step closer to you. His hand drops from the door, settling gently on your hip.
“I have something else in mind.” Your hands fist in his jacket and you yank him forward, feeling his hand on your neck as you finally kiss him.
He doesn’t rush, taking his time to feel your mouth against his. Once he realises you don’t want to let him go, he drags his hand up your face, along your cheekbone, thumb tracing along your skin lightly. You push yourself up on your toes, wanting to be closer.
He grabs you a little harder, and you moan into his mouth when his hand tangles in your hair. He uses it as leverage, nearly pulling you off the ground. He’s wrapped his arm around your waist, and the warmth of his body against yours has you pulling on the hair that hangs out of his hat. He’s the one to make a sound now, letting out a low groan when you fist your hands and tug.
He tastes like expensive cigars and scotch, his mouth burning it’s way into your memory. Every time you look at him from now on all you’ll be able to think of is how he tastes, and how easily he’s taken over you. He towers over you, and with one hand still around your waist, the other tucks your hair behind your ear, a hint of something softer despite the neediness of both your movements. You hate it like that, always thinking you look off balance. It’s why you have your head shoved in a hat most days, but he seems to like it. He walks you backwards, away from the door, picking you up with a strong forearm under your ass until you feel your calves hit the hard wood of his desk. He presses close, only leaving your lips for a second to kiss along your jaw. When you whine and tug on his hair, he comes back up, and you can feel him smiling through it.
When you need to take a breath, reluctantly you lean back, eyes fluttering open when you feel his forehead press to yours. His hands cup your face, enveloping you in the feeling of him everywhere. The shadow of his body blocks out all the light in the room except for him, tunnel visioning him into focus.
“You have really pretty eyes.” You say before you can think, almost like some kind of trance had overtaken you. Price laughs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip lightly.
“Is that right?” You nod once, and he leans closer, his mouth lightly pressing its way along your neck. You squirm in his touch, needing more, but he only gets further away. “You have no idea how many times I thought about walkin’ down to your room and begging you to put me out of my misery.”
“Fuck, Price.” You tug him closer by the ends of his jacket, smiling when you feel his hands fall to your waist and his head pull back. “You should of. It’s so lonely in there.”
“Don’t play games with me.” He says lowly while you bat your eyes up at him, that authoritative tone rumbling through every word. “Your tuggin’ on my last string of control with that look.”
“Good. Maybe it’ll finally snap.” He groans, kissing you lightly.
“I should do this right. Take you out. Buy you flowers and dinner.” His hands begin to wander again, getting a little more daring, opposing the words he’s trying to talk himself out of. “You deserve it.”
“You could just propose, skip the twenty steps and get a ring.” He smiles again, finally, and even if it’s controlled and Captain like, it’s a smile. “Heard you army boys like to settle down pretty fast, anyways. That what you want?”
“Fucking hell. You really are trying to marry me off.” You shrug, and something much more intense is in his eyes now. It makes you tick into a higher gear, cogs turning faster and faster. “Can I kiss you again?”
Instead of answering, you bring both hands on either side of his face and yank him to you, moulding your mouth to his. It’s desperate, one lonley hand seeking another as he puts his palm over yours, then moves you seamlessly. You mould for him, standing as he hurls you up and into his arms, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist tight even when you feel the hard wood of the table under your thighs. He reaches behind you, one hand on your lower back rolling your hips towards him, the other now revealing his half finished cigar.
You want to roll your eyes, but he’s too overwhelming to think about anything else. The way he smells— smoke and old spice filling your senses. You can’t get enough of it, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingertips tracing up his neck. For a second you hesitate, feeling the material of his hat against your knuckles, but the slightest touch of your hand in his hair makes him groan into your mouth, and you throw all caution to the wind.
He kisses you a little rougher now. Keeping you still with one strong arm around your waist, he’s slowly uncoiling, strand by strenuous strand. His other hand is still occupied with his cigar, and you can’t figure out why he’s holding onto it right now until you hear something crash and hit the floor behind you.
“Jesus, Price.” You sigh into him, only opening your eyes for a second to see he’s shoved everything on his desk to the floor— ashtray shattered in pieces under your feet. Didn’t want to waste his damn cigar, but the countless files on his desk weren’t important enough to him.
He pulls back, your lips chasing him even though your lightheaded from a lack of oxygen. You open your eyes again, your arms still wrapped right around the back of his neck, and your head drops to the giant mess on the floor. Cigar still secured in his fingertips, both of his hands cup your face, forcing you to look at him. You’ve never seen him unwound. He’s your Captain— a man of control, someone who’s always three steps ahead of the enemy. But here, breathing hard and standing between your open legs, he looks fucking wild. His eyes are half shut, and he’s smiling like a fool, the sight making you feel even warmer with him this close to you.
“You are something else.” He murmurs against your mouth, making you smile.
“And you’re a fucking tease.” You kiss him again, and he nearly whines in his own protest as he pulls back. “John.”
“I know, love. I’ll take care of you.” He steps away a little, one hand dropping to the edge of the table. “Mind holding onto this f’me?”
He brings his other one up, the end of the cigar appearing in front of you. Instead of handing it to you, his thumb drags down against your lip, your mouth opening for him on the silent command. Dark eyes watching your every move, he puts the end of the cigar in your mouth, watching you take in the familiar taste of it. Of him. It sends a buzz through your veins now, the alcohol and feeling of him overloading your body. He lets his hand slip to your jaw, smirking at the way your teeth nearly bite into the end. Then, the asshole winks at you, and you almost choke on the smoke burning through your chest.
“There’s a good girl. Stay nice and still, yeah?” He presses a quick kiss on your cheek, watching as you nod slowly. Mesmerised. It’s taken about five minutes and a few well chosen words for one of his best soldiers to become a puddle in front of him. You knew it was a little embarrassing how quickly you lost your nerve with him, but he didn’t have to look so smug about it.
Just as you think you’ve recovered, he drops his hands, still staring at you as he expertly undoes your military pants. He doesn’t even have to look down, just watches how your eyes close, head falling back as he yanks them down your legs and his fingers hook into the fabric of your underwear.
You almost forget the cigar completely, moaning around the end of it as you feel him draw closer. The rough pads of his fingertips, hardened from years on the force, are gentle and soothing against the sensitive skin, and he plays with the seams sitting around where you are clearly edging him towards.
He’s not watching you anymore. No, now his eyes are occupied with the sight in front of him, just below your face. How your back is arched towards him, enticing him to move a little faster. Your legs spreading across his table, knuckles white as they grip the edge in anticipation. Then, there’s your fucking underwear. Price spits out a few curse words, then rips them away, tucking them into the pocket of his own pants.
“You wear that just to drive me insane?” His hands splay on your thighs, rising higher and higher. You hum around the cigar that’s growing heavier in your mouth. “That what you wear all the time? Pink and lace shit under all that gear?”
“Just hopin’ you’d take it off and find out.” You mumble, only half coherent with your mouth full. The comment seems to undo something in him, and his restraint frays as you finally, finally feel two of his fingers dragging slow, steady circles on your clit.
You crumble forward, hips shifting to seek out something a little faster, but his free hand holds you down. He kisses along your neck, down to his collarbone while setting you alight with his soft moving hands. As he dips just below there, in a place he knows will be hidden in your uniform, he spends time there. He listens to the little noises you make, how you say his name like it’s the only word you know. He fucking knows he has you right there— and he hasn’t even taken off his shirt.
“You are so gorgeous, baby. You know that?” His mouth is so hot and his fucking hands— they were playing you like a violin. Plucking all the right strings, a melody of pleasure played out of your mouth, interrupting his ramble. “Never gonna be able to keep my hands off you. Not when I know how sweet you sound.”
“Hmph.” You groan around the butt of the cigar, and he grins a little mockingly, cooing as he takes the cigar from your nearly open mouth.
“There you go, did real good for me. Need to hear you louder though, princess.”
“Please, Price.” Your hips buck, and his fingers dip lower, teasing.
“You ask me, it’s yours.” He whispers, then bends down to press one long, bruising kiss to your lips, one you take greedily.
“I need you.” He kisses you, humming low into your mouth, then you feel one of his strong fingers curl inside of you. “Ohh— fuck.”
“You’re alright darlin’. That’s it.” He whispers in your ear, and your mind focuses only on the sweet adoring touches of his free and and his mouth and the coil tightening low in your stomach.
Everything is only him— the roughness of his hands subsided by the gentle graze of their touch, exploring all the parts of you he’s telling you he’s dreamed about. His other hand, finding the places that make you scream the loudest, never letting up as your eyes roll backwards into your skull. His mouth— god, that fucking mouth. The way he’s talking to you, telling you all the ways he’s imagined you spread out for him, how long he wants to take with you, how hard he is for you, only you.
Your hands reach towards him, sliding down his toned chest, along the lines of his jacket until you blindly caught on the waistband of his jeans. You could feel yourself slipping into that blissful heat low in your stomach, but you wanted him to fall with you. As much as he was talking, you were just as desperate to get your hands on him, even if you couldn’t articulate words right now.
“You don’t ha—fucking hell.” He growls, kissing you harshly as your hands slip into his pants and palm him through his boxers. “I’m not gonna last. You’re fucking me up real good, princess.”
“J-Just let me make you feel good, too.” You blink your eyes open, pleasure skittering up your spine. He pumps his fingers inside of you faster, skilled in a way your brain can’t compare to anything else. The rough skin of his palm drags across your clit with every move, sending your hips into a roll in search of more— greedily chasing whatever he’d give you.
When you finally feel him, hot and heavy in your hand under his boxers, you can feel he wasn’t lying. He’s a fucking mess— a choked moan shocking through him as your thumb gently swipes across his tip. When you pull away he looks up from where his head dropped on your shoulder, eyes only half open to watch you spit in your hand, and then return to wrap your fingers around him, pumping him slowly.
“Ohh, fuck. That’s good. Fuck, that’s so good.” He praises, hot breath kissing your neck and collarbone. You could tell he liked to talk, but it wasn’t even the words he was saying that was sending you spiralling helplessly anymore. It was the noises.
Desperate, nearly whining as you tighten your grip, matching the pace of his two, strong fingers curling inside you. You felt boneless— foreheads pressed together as you watched each other fall apart from just the others hands. You weren’t much better, high pitched, girlish sounds that had nothing of the trained solider in them. Just a girl, spread out on her Captains desk, exactly where she wants to be.
“So tight, baby. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” You hum, closing your eyes and imagining it. If he felt this thick in your hands, you couldn’t imagine how he’d feel in— “Gonna take you out to a nice dinner and then bring you home, fuck you in a real bed. Fuck… you think about this too?”
“A-all the— fuck, right there— all the time.” You manage, vision beginning to blur. “I’m so close, Price. Please.”
“Give it to me. Wanna feel how wet you get after you cum for me.” He groans. He switches so fast— low, heavy voice interrupted by slightly higher moans and a gasp. He’s so hard to keep up with, it melts your brain down to only the simplest of instructions. “Cum for me.”
You lose conscious control of your hand, only knowing to keep holding him like that as his hips buck, fucking into your palm. Pleasure takes over— zapping and skittering through your body, making your legs shake. His breathing gets faster, stuttered little gasps coming from him as he guides you through your orgasm, hand slowing to a soothing rhythm.
There was none of that softness for himself, though. No— he was nothing but hard and fast, using your hip as leverage to drag his length along the wet hold of your hand. The table creaks under his strength, and you wrap your free hard around his neck again to hold on tight, needing to see him through it.
“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls, and then covers your hand in warmth as he cums to the sight of you. His jaw is hanging open and you take the opportunity, kissing him desperately. He responds even with the pleasure clouding his thoughts, all tongue and teeth and feral sounds as his hips slowly still in your hand.
Both of you are reluctant to let go of each other, but you seemingly find yourselves at the same time as you both flinch at the touch of the other. You take your hand back first, sliding up along the lower contours of his abs. You’ve been obsessed with that part of him for so long, it’s nearly surreal to have it under your hand.
“You… Jesus Christ.” He breathes deep, his head falling to the crook of your neck. He kisses you affectionately, taking slow inhales like the taste of your skin will bring the oxygen back to his lungs. “That’s not what I thought this meeting was going to go like.”
“Funny.” You say softly, still searching for your voice. “It’s exactly what I had planned.”
He sits up at that, and you catch the look of him believing you— just for a second before he shakes his head, smirking.
“Alright, smart ass.” You laugh, tugging him to stand closer between your spread legs. “You okay?”
“Never better.” He kisses you softly again.
“You gonna let me take you out? Do this the proper way?” His hands hold your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin. “Cause I meant it when I said I’m not keeping my hands off you now. I’m a man of my word.”
“Pizza is fine with me.” You smile, and he picks you up off the desk, but not before sneaking one lazy kiss while you’re up in his arms.
Pizza would be fine every night, you think as you quickly pull your pants back on and follow him out the door, still seeing the light pink fabric of your underwear sticking out his back pocket.
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punkette1026 · 8 months
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You Are Not My Mom!
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Summary:
Lately, you and Joel noticed that Sarah has become withdrawn. You are both at a loss of what to do when an incident at schools reveals how Sarah currently feels towards you and how she feels about her current position in the growing Miller family.
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Bullying, Pregnancy
Words:8,539
Pedro Pascal Master List
You Are Not My Mom Masterlist
Author's Notes:
I really hope that you enjoy this one. This one was hard to write. And thank you to @beardedjoel for all the help with this one. And yes I know Sarah is a sweet baby angel, but it will make sense.
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You woke up feeling horrible yet again. You had spent the last hour of the early morning in the fetal position of the bathroom floor. You had tried your best to not wake your sleeping husband in the other room. He had a big day at work later on in the day and you wanted him to get as much rest as he could. He had been working so hard lately to provide for your growing family but promised you that at the end of the day, it would be worth it. However, despite your best attempts to stay quiet, Joel had woken up missing your warmth beside him.
“Jesus doll, why didn’t you wake me?” his sleepy deep voice echoed through the bathroom.
“I…I…shit, you need to rest,” you struggled to say as another bout of nausea hit you.
Joel, the ever-so-loving husband that he was, was by your side in an instant, making sure that he held your hair back for you. “I’m getting real worried about you doll. This is the third time this week that I have found you like this. What time is your appointment on Monday?”
“At nine I think,” you groaned, resting your head back against his chest. “I know work is busy right now, so I understand if you can’t come with me. I can always ask Maria if she can go with me. I promise you that I won’t find out the genders without you.”
Sighing, he pulled you into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on your head, “Like hell I’m going to miss it doll. Tommy can handle things for a while. I need to ask the doctor some questions regarding this whole morning sickness thing anyways. I need to make sure you and the little ones are okay. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, them, or Sarah. You four are my whole world.”
When it came to the health and safety of his family, Joel didn’t play around. He would drop anything at the drop of a dime if you guys needed something. Looking down at where his hands were rubbing small circles on your belly, you couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t believe how in just a few short months, your family of three would be a family of five. It came as quite a shock to everyone when the doctor told you that you were expecting twins. Neither side of your family had twins in them so when the doctor announced it, you stared at her like she had two heads and Sarah tried her hardest to keep Joel from passing out. You were all excited though and had plenty of love to go around.
Once you felt well enough to move without feeling sick to your stomach, Joel helped you to your feet and walked you over to the sink to help you clean up. He then guided you back to the bed, making sure that you were sitting up slightly before placing a kiss to your lips. Doing the same thing as he did all the other nights, he went downstairs to grab you some ginger ale and crackers for you. Those always seemed to help settle your stomach. 
While downstairs, he tried his best to keep quiet, however the sound of someone entering the kitchen and turning the lights on startled him. “Dammit Sarah! Give your old man a warning will you,” he whispered loudly clutching his chest. “What are you doing up?”
“Sorry, but it's hard to sleep when you keep dropping things and cussing up a storm,” she groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What are you doing in here?”
“Your mom isn’t feeling good again, so I’m trying to find her some of  those crackers that she likes. Do you know where they are? I know that I saw some here.”
“Oh, those crackers, I umm...I sort of ate them, sorry,” she winced. 
“Really Sarah, I thought I told everyone not to touch them. That’s why I tried to hide them,” he growled. “I guess I’ll just have to go after work and pick up a box or two. We are running low on ginger ale. Do you need anything?”
Sarah shook her head, “No I don’t and why can’t she go to the store herself? She is the one that needs them. I only ate them because dinner was disgusting anyways.”
“Okay first off, watch your tone young lady. Your mom worked hard on that dinner. Second, I don’t want her overdoing it this weekend. I want her to take it easy till her appointment. Which brings me to something that I want to talk about. Come here, sit down,” he told her as he pulled out a chair for her. “Listen Sarah, you know how much I love you and you know how much I enjoy the time we spend together. However, considering how you have been acting lately and how I really need to be here in case your mother gets sick again, I think it’s best that we cancel our brunch date tomorrow.”
Ever since you came into her life when she was five years old, you had always made sure that Joel had put his daughter above everything else. You were the one coming into the family, after all. It had always been her and Joel and you didn’t want Sarah to feel like you were taking her dad away from her. So, you encouraged Joel to do something special with her. That’s why on the first Saturday of the month, Joel would take Sarah out for brunch and to do some shopping. Now with the babies coming, you encouraged it even more as she was going to have to get used to sharing both of your attention.
Joel watched as Sarah’s face fell. “What, no!”
“Will you hush,” he tried to quiet his daughter. “Look I’m sorry to do it Sarah, but I have no choice. You haven’t been on your best behavior lately and that attitude of yours needs to change. I know you are going through some changes, but you need to let us in and help you though. I know your mom is really worried about you too. I promise you though as soon as I see a change in you and your mom starts feeling better, then maybe we can see about rescheduling. Right now, though, it isn’t a good time to reward you, Sarah. I hope you understand that.”
“But...but...ugh! This is so not fair!” she growled as she ripped herself away from the table and away from him. Then like she used to do when she was little, she stomped her feet all the way to her room before slamming the door behind her.
All Joel could do was shake his head in disappointment. That was the type of behavior that he was talking about. Normally Sarah was a great kid. She never talked back and was always fun to be around. She was always one to put a smile on your face. As of late, however, she had this newly found attitude and walked around like she had a chip on her shoulder. Every time he tried to ask her what was going on Sarah would snap at him and storm off. Like he said, something was going to have to change soon. 
Sighing and grabbing the can of ginger ale, Joel ventured back upstairs hoping that you didn’t hear his little spat with Sarah. That was the last thing that he thought would happen at three in the morning. Thankfully when he got back, you were already dozing off. Walking over to your nightstand, he placed the can of ginger ale there just in case you needed it before going over to his side of the bed.
“C’mere,” you called out to him, knowing that you couldn’t fully fall asleep until he was next to you again.
Giving you that dimpled smile that you fell in love with, he got back under the covers and curled himself into you, resting his head on your chest. “Sorry I took so long doll.”
“It’s okay baby. What happened down there? Heard a door slam,” you tiredly whispered, closing your eyes again.
Joel leaned up and placed a kiss underneath your jaw, “Well I was trying to find you your things and I guess I woke Sarah up. We ended up getting into it a little bit when I told her that I’m canceling tomorrow. She didn’t like what I had told her, so she stormed off back to her room. She is not happy with me right now.”
“What, why are you canceling?”
“Because she honestly doesn’t deserve it. Not with the way that she is acting. I told her that until she does, we won’t be doing anything until then. Besides, I want to be here in case your morning sickness starts up again.”
Shaking your head, you sat up a little bit, not wanting to have this conversation laying down. “While I do agree that she needs to change her attitude, I don’t think you should have canceled Joel. That is your special time with her. I’m really worried about her, Joel.”
“I’m really worried about her too Y/N, but I just don’t think we should be rewarding her for her bad attitude and disrespect. All that’s going to do is teach her that she can get away with it. I honestly think that we should have tried to discipline her in some other way already."
I know but we can’t look back, only forward. I really think that you could have used that time with her one on one to find out what is going on with her Joel. And as much as I appreciate it baby, please don’t throw me into the mix. Do not cancel on my behalf. I am fine I swear and besides, Maria and I have plans to start cleaning out the office for the nursery. I don’t need you hovering over me Joel, I got this. What we really need to be focusing on is Sarah.”
Like always, Joel couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Somehow you always were the voice of reason when it came to his bright ideas. You were always the one to set him straight. “What would I do without you doll?” he smiled at you. “You are right, and I messed up. I’ll talk to Sarah again on the way to school. We really do need to figure this out, I agree. But the question is how? We have both tried talking to her and look at what’s happened so far. If we do go out tomorrow, I don’t think we are going to do much talking. Has she said anything to you lately? I talked to her soccer coach, and she said Sarah has been acting fine at practice.”
“I can’t tell if you are being serious or being funny Joel. You know Sarah hasn’t spoken to me much in weeks. I’m lucky if I can get a hi out of her these days. I don’t know what I did to make her hate me. She won’t even look me in the eye anymore. “All you wanted to know was what the issue was, so you could fix it. You missed how close you and Sarah used to be. She was and will always be your number one girl after all.
“I know doll and I’m sorry. I’m getting really tired of the disrespect towards you. You are her mother and from where I’m standing, you have done nothing wrong and don’t deserve to be treated this way. The only thing that I could think of that could work, is maybe having Tommy or Maria talk to her? It seems like that is the only thing that we haven’t tried yet,” he said tiredly running his hand through his hair. 
That might actually be a good idea, you thought to yourself. You remembered back to when you were her age and knew how hard it could be to talk to your parents. It sometimes helped to talk to someone on the outside how could give you a new perspective on things. “Yes, I definitely think that we should do that. Just please Joel, do not cancel tomorrow. You go have a fun time with Sarah and don’t worry about me alright,” you smiled at him as you cupped his face. You loved that patchy beard of his.
Joel leaned forward and gently placed a kiss to your lips, “I promise doll and I’ll explain it all to Sarah on the way to school later.”
“Good, now let’s get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you, mister, and I need you well rested. I know how hard you and Tommy have worked hard for this chance.” You and Joel knew that this meeting was going to change everyone’s life if all went according to plan.
Pulling you into him again, Joel cuddled his face into your neck, “I’ll be fine doll. You know that I’m used to having barely any little sleep.” He then gently pushed you back down on the bed and hovered over you, “However if you want me to get some sleep, I think we could work something out.”
“You are insatiable Joel Miller, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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The next time you woke up, Joel was long gone. His side of the bed was already cold and the smell of him on his pillow was beginning to fade. You couldn’t help but smile as you stretched out in the bed with that sweet ache between your thighs still there. 
As you sat up and held the sheet to your bare chest, you looked over to check the time and saw a piece of paper waiting for you. Smiling to yourself, you picked it up and you felt your heart skip a beat as you recognized Joel’s sexy handwriting written neatly on the page:
Good morning doll,
You made it hard for me to leave this morning. You looked so beautiful. I still can’t believe you are mine. I feel like the luckiest man in the world. Do me a favor and try to take it easy today please. I’ll call you later as soon as we are done. And as promised, I talked to Sarah this morning as I made coffee. We are planning to have brunch and a movie tomorrow. Hopefully that will open her up. I swear I saw a small smile when I told her. I love you and the kiddos so much. Call me if you need anything please. See you in a bit.
Love your man,
Joel
Happy tears ran down your cheeks as you reread his note again. That husband of yours had such a way with words. With every note that he wrote to you over the years, you fell more and more in love with him.
Even the babies felt their daddy’s love as you could feel their flutters in your belly, “I know little ones, I’m already missing him too. Hopefully he will work this out with your sister, and everything will be alright from here on out. Mommy is really worried about her.” And you still wouldn’t stop worrying about her. She would always be your baby girl.
After deciding on a long shower, you slowly got out of bed and got your day started. You were going to do some light cleaning and spend the rest of the day on the couch per Joel's request. However, as you made your way down the stairs to start vacuuming, a knock on your door stopped you in your tracks. You were expecting anyone so you were curious as to who it could be.
“Morning neighbor!” Your sister-in-law greeted you as you opened the door for her.
“Morning Maria!” Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? I thought I wasn't going to see you until later tonight.” you asked in surprise. “Didn't you have to work today?”
“Oh well I did, but I decided to take the day off. Perks of being your own boss. Figured that if it was alright with you, we could get a start on cleaning out the nursery or just hang out.”
While you were grateful that she thought of you and was willing to make time for you, you couldn't help but feel like there was an ulterior motive. “Or... Joel asked you to come over, didn't he?” You knew that husband of yours so well.
Maria dramatically sighed and threw her hands up, “I knew it, I told him that you would figure it out. I told him that you were smarter than that. I'm sorry Y/N.”
“Don't worry about it. I should have known that he was going to pull a stunt like this. I'm glad that you are here though. I really need your help with something else,” you said nervously as you walked her over to the couch. “I need your help with Sarah.”
“Yeah of course, what's going on? I know that Joel had mentioned to Tommy that you're having a hard time with her lately. I know being a teenager is hard these days and I certainly do not miss being one.”
“Me either, it was exhausting. But I don't remember being so closed off as her. Neither Joel nor I can get more than a sentence or two out of her. All she does is just stare at that damn phone of hers and stays in her room listening to music. We are at a loss here Maria. We talked it over earlier this morning and we would really appreciate it if you or Tommy could talk to her for us. I really think it would be better if it was you specifically, because I think talking to another woman would help rather than just talking to her mom. I love Tommy and all, but...”
“Sometimes he doesn't take things seriously, I know. Lord help us for when we have kids,” Maria rolled her eyes. “But yes, I would be happy to help. I'll let her know that whatever she tells me will be in confidence but if it's something that I'm concerned with, I will have to tell you guys.”
For the first time in weeks, you breathed a fresh breath of air. You really hoped that Maria was going to be the godsend that you were looking for when it came to getting Sarah to open up. “Thank you, Maria, thank you, thank you. We seriously appreciate it and I'm sure Joel will be happy to hear that you're going to help us.”
Maria just smiled and pulled you into a hug, “you're welcome girly and don't mention it. Now about the nursery...”
Unfortunately, Maria was unable to finish her sentence as your phone interrupted her plans. Thinking it was Joel, you quickly answered it hoping it was good news, “hello?”
“Hello, this is Principal Ramona over at the high school. Are you Y/N Miller?” Okay so it wasn't Joel.
“Umm... Yes, it is. How may I help you, Principal Ramona?”  Your stomach dropped as it was rare for the school to call.”
“Well, I wish I was calling under better circumstances Mrs. Miller, but we unfortunately had an incident with Sarah, and we need you to come down here to the school.”
You knew you had heard her right, but for some reason, your mind wasn't comprehending it, “I... I'm sorry but can you repeat that?”
“Mrs. Miller, I can explain it all when you get here. Sarah is fine so there's no need to worry. We just need you to come here as soon as you can. “We tried calling her father, but there was no answer,” Principal Ramona replied.
You ran your hand through your hair and shook your head in disbelief, “Yes that is to be expected as he is working right now, but I will make it down there as soon as I can. Can you at least tell me what happened?”
“Mrs. Miller, I'd rather just talk about this face to face. So, we will see you soon. Goodbye.”
As soon as you hung up or rather got hung up on. You couldn't help but let out a frustrated groan. “What, what's wrong?” Maria had overheard bits and pieces and from what she could gather, she knew it wasn't good.
“Well, that was the school that called, sounds like Sarah is currently in the principal's office right now. What has gotten into that girl Maria?”
“All right well first I think it's best that you try to calm down. There is no need to freak out yet without knowing any more details. Let's just get to the school and we'll see what happens okay,” Maria said calmly. “Where are your keys I'm driving?”
“They're in the office, I think. Do you think I should call Joel?” Your mind was running 1,000,000 miles a minute, so it was hard to think straight and think of what to do next.
Maria thought about it for a second and knew that it would probably be for the best. “Yeah, I think you should give him a heads up, but let him know that I'm with you and that we have everything under control. I don't need both of you freaking out on me and Tommy.”
That was definitely an understatement. Poor Tommy and Maria had unofficially become your families emotional support people over the years, “Yeah, you're right and thanks again Maria, you're a lifesaver.”
“Don't mention it. Now let's go!”
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The drive to the school was certainly a long one indeed. It was only a 20 minute drive, but the fear of the unknown made it feel like time had slowed. You tried to be calm though as you knew having a level head would only be beneficial to Sarah.
“Did you want me to go with you?” Maria asked as she parked the car.
“No, I think I could handle it. I'll text you though if I need backup. Speaking of which, let me text Joel before I head in.”
‘Hey babe, there's an issue at Sarah school. Sounds like she is fine, but something happened. I have Maria with me. I'll text you when we are done. Love you and good luck!’
As you put your phone away and major way inside the school, the hallways were packed with kids making their way to their next classes. Just the sight and smell alone sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t enjoy high school at all. You remembered all the times you were bullied and sat alone at lunch, and you prayed with all your heart that Sarah was having a better high school experience than you.
Bumping past the sea of students, you finally made it to the office where a young woman was busy typing away at her computer. “Hello, I'm Y/N Miller. I'm here to see Principal Ramona. My daughter Sarah, is in her office I believe,” you said nervously.
“Ahh yes ma’am. She is indeed expecting you. Please have a seat and I will let her know that you are here.”
Nodding your head, you took a seat, nervously tapping your foot. “It’s okay little ones, mommy is going to sort this out with your sister and then we can go home and relax,” you whispered as you felt their flutters start up again.
You then heard a door open up and out walked an older gray-haired woman with too much makeup on her face, “Hello, you must be Mrs. Miller. I’m Principal Ramona. Thank you for coming. Please come in.”
You quickly stood up and shook her hand, “You’re welcome, Principal Ramona, and again, thank you for calling. How is she?”
“Sarah is fine Mrs. Miller. See for yourself,” she opened the door back up and invited you back into her office. 
That’s when you finally got to see Sarah sitting there with her arms crossed looking miserable. “Wait, you called her?!” Sarah said angrily when she saw you. You couldn’t lie when her response had taken you back just a little. “I thought you said that you called my dad?!”
“Sarah Miller, sit down right now! You are in enough trouble as it is,” Principal Ramona scolded her. “Your father was unable to attend our little get together, so I had to call your mother instead. Is that going to be an issue?” It looked like Sarah had mumbled something under her breath, but she eventually gave in and sat back down. “That’s better. Please Mrs. Miller, have a seat. We have a lot to discuss.”
Taking a seat next to your daughter, you tried to reach out and take her hand, but Sarah pulled away and moved her chair away from you. “Sarah, what’s going on? Talk to me baby. You used to do it all the time. Your father and I are really worried about you.” As usual though, she said nothing, but this time, you could see tears in her eyes.
“Don’t worry Mrs. Miller, she hasn’t said much since we brought her in here. From what I have been told by some of her fellow teachers, Sarah has taken quite a turn here. They report that she has become withdrawn, has various missing assignments, and today she got into a confrontation with another student during the passing period and physically assaulted another student.”
“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry Principal Ramona, but I’m finding it very hard to believe any of that, especially the assault part. Sarah has never been the fighting type. There has to be some other explanation.” There was just no way none of this happened. There was no way that things were actually this bad at school too.
Principal Ramona just sighed and shook her head, “Well I’m afraid that it is true Mrs. Miller. These are just several complaints from her teachers. We were going to set up a meeting with you and your husband to go over everything, but Sarah’s little transgression beat us to it.”
She then handed you the list of complaints. “I...I...I don’t know what to say Principal Ramona. Sarah, do you want to explain these to me?” Once again, silence. “Alright then, what about the fight? Do you want to tell me what started it or why you hit her? Whatever the reason was Sarah, I’m sure we can figure it out.”
Sarah continued to stare straight ahead, but this time as she frustratedly wiped the tear that fell from her face she spoke, “She...she...ugh, what does it even matter anyway? Can we just go home? I don’t want to be in this stupid place anymore. Everyone sucks!” It may not have been what you wanted to hear, but at least she acknowledged you and this situation finally.
“Sarah sweetheart, I know you are upset, but...”
“But I’m afraid Sarah is right Mrs. Miller,” the principal interrupted you rudely. She didn’t even seem to care that Sarah had almost opened up. “No matter what happened, it doesn’t change the fact that Sarah attacked another student. I’m afraid that I have to take some serious action now.”
“How serious are we talking about?”
“Well, since this is Sarah’s first violation, I’m willing to take that into consideration. So, I think a week’s suspension should do. During that time, Sarah will be responsible for completing all her missing assignments that her teachers are willing to let her make up. I also haven’t spoken to her soccer coach yet, but I would assume that a suspension from the team will also be put in place.”
Sarah’s eyes grew wide as she immediately stood up, “What, no please! I’m sorry, okay, I’m really sorry. I’ll take the suspension, but don’t take away soccer!”
“Principal Ramona, look I understand that what Sarah did was wrong, and I promise that she will be punished, but you said that this was her first violation. Surely, we can think of something else. Like maybe detention every day for the next month and she still gets to do soccer. It seems that it’s the only thing that is making her happy at the moment.”
However, it seemed that the principal had already made her mind up, “I’m sorry Mrs. Miller, but that simply will not do. I would expect our parents to understand our rules and regulations. Maybe next time Sarah will think about the consequences of her actions and not act so irrational.”
“I didn’t act irrationally! She got into my face and got what she deserved. She has been....never mind, but this is still not fair! I hate this school!” Sarah said, getting upset once again. She then grabbed her things and stormed out of the office. She didn’t even seem to care that she pushed you out of her way.
Your cheeks grew red with embarrassment at your daughter’s outburst, “ I am so sorry Principal Ramona. Her father and I will work on this behavioral issue. I just wish that you would reconsider. Are we sure we don’t know anything else about the fight?” The more information you had to share with Joel, the better. 
“Unfortunately, no one would say what it was about. Both Sarah as well as the girl and group of friends refuse to say anything. I have already sent the other girl home, so I’m afraid that we cannot ask her again.”
“So that’s it then? My daughter gets suspended without any further investigation. What if she was defending herself? What about the other girl, was she punished?” You couldn’t believe this. 
Principal Ramona shook her head in disapproval, “Mrs. Miller, I cannot disclose that information. But please, let’s not make this harder than it has to be. My mind has already been made up. Now here is a folder of all her missing assignments. My receptionist will be in touch to schedule a meeting between us as well as your husband to discuss Sarah returning to school.”
“Yes, I’m sure my husband would definitely like to discuss this further. Thank you for being such a caring and understanding educator,” you said sarcastically as you snatched the folder from her hand. You didn’t even tell her goodbye as you left in search of your daughter. Thankfully you found her by the front door waiting for you, “You okay there kiddo? That principal of yours isn’t very friendly. I can see why you don’t like her.”
“Look, can we just go home now,” she pouted as she pushed open the door. “Where are you parked?”
“Well Maria brought me here and it’s parked over there. Look Sarah despite whatever grudge is that you have against me at the moment. You do know that I’m here to help you right. I love you so much and I don’t...”
“Just stop will you. I’m not in the mood. I just want to go home,” she snapped at you, storming off towards Maria’s direction. All you could do was just shake your head as you followed behind her. There had to be a better way to get through to her. Hopefully a little one on one with Maria would still work.
Once you got back to the car, Sarah was already buckled up and didn’t even bother to greet her aunt. “That bad huh?” Maria asked, knowing that she just got the cold shoulder. 
“A week's suspension and a possible suspension from the soccer team too,” you sighed as you got in. “The principal was a real bitch. Now Joel and I need to have another meeting with her soon.”
“Well, that sucks. I know Joel isn’t going to be too happy. How about you, are you feeling okay?” She noticed you rubbing your head and taking deep breaths. 
“Yes, just have a headache coming on,” you weakly smiled. As Maria started the car, you pulled out your phone to make sure that you updated Joel. 
Hey babe, so Sarah is suspended. Got into some sort of a fight and there are some other issues that she has been having as well. I have it covered though. I’ll just have her work on some homework and do  some chores till you get home and we can discuss any further punishment. Love you!
Once you sent him the message, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes. Your day of relaxation was not going according to plan at all.
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By the time that you got home, you didn’t even realize that you had dozed off. Maria had gently nudged your arm and when you opened your eyes, to your surprise, Joel was standing there by his truck waiting.
Once the car was parked, you were quick to get out and walk over to him in confusion, “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought I said I had it covered. What about the meeting?”
Joel wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. What you didn’t see was him glaring at Sarah as she stayed back hiding behind the car. “Yeah, well none of that matters right now. I told them that Tommy was going to handle things while I attended to a family emergency.”
“Well as upset as I am, I'm glad that you are here. Let's just try to be calm about this okay. This isn’t the ideal situation for anyone right now.” You didn’t want this to become a shouting fest and end up getting nowhere.
“Fine, but I'm not very happy with her right now.” He then motioned for Sarah to come over. Sarah didn't dare look at her father as she got closer. Her eyes remained on the ground the entire time. “Living room NOW, Sarah. We'll be in shortly.” Sarah just nodded and walked inside without saying a word.
“Do you want me to leave? I can come back later when Tommy gets home,” Maria then approached. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds by hanging around. 
Joel shook his head and gave her an appreciative smile, “No you can stay and thank you for everything Maria.”
“Don't mention it. That's what family does. I can still talk to her if you guys need me too. I don't mind.”
“That would be great. I think we are going to need all the help that we can get,” you sighed as you all turned to go join Sarah.
Doing exactly what she was told, Sarah sat on the couch waiting. It broke your heart to see what was happening. All you wanted to do was take her into your arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay. 
Instead you took a seat next to her while Joel sat on the coffee table in front of her. Maria decided to sit at the bar behind in case she needed to step in. “Sarah,” Joel led off. “First off, I don't think I have to tell you how disappointed I am with you right now. We are going to sit here and talk it out. We have played enough games with you.”
“Your father is right Sarah. We have let this go on long enough. If there is something that you need to get off of your chest, go ahead and do it. I'm sure we will understand. Does it have to do with school? You seemed pretty unhappy to be there.”
Joel nodded in agreement and reached out to take her hand, “Please Sarah. I don't like seeing this side of you. The disrespect, the fighting, this isn't my little girl. Where is the happy-go-lucky, always positive daughter that usually gets after me when I’m in a bad mood? We want her back Sarah, and we can't do that unless you tell us what is wrong.”
“You don’t get it do you?” Sarah mumbled quietly and ripped her hand from Joel. “I don't want to talk about it, and I certainly don't want to talk to you about it Y/N!”
“Sarah!” Maria gasped behind you.
“Stop asking me what's wrong. Stop trying to get me to talk to you. I don’t want anything to do with you. You are NOT my mom, so stop trying to act like it!” She then got up and ran to her room, leaving all three of you behind stunned.
Joel immediately turned towards you, “Y/N doll…I…”
“No Joel, just go. You need to go be with her,” you choked out. It felt like someone stabbed you in the heart and ripped it out of you. 
“But doll…”
Maria came over around the couch and pulled you up to her, “No Joel, Y/N is right. Go to Sarah. I got this.”
“Please,” you cried into Maria's chest. 
With a hurt look on his face, Joel nodded and headed down the hall, leaving you to break down in Maria's arms. 
Storming his way down the hallway, Joel ripped the bedroom door open. “You have some nerve, Sarah Miller. What the hell was that?” Sarah just continued to sit on her bed and pulled her squish mellow closer to her. “Never in my life have I heard you say something so disrespectful. I have taught you better than that. Can't you see that she is trying her hardest here? Hell, we all are. We are really worried about you Sarah.” He then went and took a seat on her bed next to her, “I really need you to try and work with me Sarah. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not going to lose my happiness because you are determined to make our lives miserable. I’m also too drained to yell or scream at you if that is what you are afraid of, so we are just going to sit here and talk.”
“And if I don’t want to talk?”
Joel sighed and ran his hands down his tired face, “Then we will sit here Sarah. I am prepared to do whatever it is to get through to you, even if that means just sitting here waiting. You wanted my undivided attention, while now you have it.”
Sarah finally looked up and made eye contact with her father. A tinge of guilt overcame her as she could see the disapproval on his face. “The…the fight today, it was...it was nothing dad. I just got tired of that girl running her mouth, so I did what I thought was right. I was tired of her and her friends treating me like crap. They are the biggest bullies in the school. I was only defending myself; I swear.”
“Jesus Sarah, then why didn’t you say anything? If you would have told me or Y/N that you were being bullied, we would have put an end to it. We would have gone straight to the school and talked it over with the principal.”  
“Because it would have just made things worse dad! They would have called me a snitch and made my life even worse. I’d rather just handle things myself. I don’t need my parents handling things for me. I’m not a little kid,” she huffed.
“But yet here you are acting like one Sarah. Instead of being the bigger person and saying something, you just made things worse for yourself. Now does this bullying situation have to do with how you have been acting around your mother and the whole not my mom thing? Because let’s face it Sarah, no matter what you may think, Y/N is and will always be your mother,” Joel said sternly.
Sarah stayed quiet for a second like she was pondering her answer, but eventually gave him a small nod. “Yeah, I guess.”
How could this be Y/N’s fault? “Then I need you to explain to me how this is your mother’s fault Sarah? What could she have possibly done to get you bullied at school?”
He watched as Sarah got up and walked over to her desk where she picked up a binder that had a whole bunch of family photos on the front cover. “It’s because of this dad,” she said, handing it to him. “I was in English class when that group of girls walked by and saw my binder. They asked me if that was my sister in the picture with me and you. I said no, that was my mom, and they began to make all sorts of comments. They asked if I was adopted, because I didn't look like her and that she was too pretty to be my mom. How mom must have been disappointed to have a daughter like me.” The last part caused Sarah to burst into tears.
Joel quickly took her into his arms, “Come here baby girl, I got you. Just let it out.” Oh, how much he wanted to go to the school right now and give them and those girls a piece of his mind. How dare they choose his daughter of all people to pick on! Someone was going to pay when this was all said and done. Right now, though, he had to focus all his attention on his daughter.
“Sarah baby, I need you to listen to me okay. I know for a fact that nothing that they said is true. You are a beautiful girl, and we are damn lucky to have you in our lives. They are just insecure little girls. That's why they pick on others. Their parents never taught them better.”
“But…but…it's true!” Sarah cried harder. “No matter what we say or do, Y/N will never actually be my real mom. No matter how much we both want it. I’ll always just be her step daughter. When those babies are born, they are going to be a part of you and her. I'll only be just yours, dad. I'm the odd one out.”
Joel’s heart broke as he heard the pain in his daughter's voice, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but be disappointed again with her listening to what her peers thought instead of listening to what she knew was the truth. “Now you listen, and you listen good. Blood does not mean shit. It doesn’t always make you family. So, what if you don’t have Y/N’s blood running in your veins? You know that Y/N doesn't care that biologically you aren't hers. She still loves you just as much as she loves those babies. She would die for you if she had to. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have tried to convince me to keep our date for tomorrow, she wouldn’t have gone to the school to fight for you, and she certainly wouldn’t be in the living room with her heart broken right now. You are her little girl, Sarah. Did you know that for your birthday, she was going to give you her great grandmother’s locket? That locket has been passed down to every first born daughter and she was finally ready to give it to you and that when you have a daughter of your own, you could give it to her. I’m sorry Sarah, but I don’t think she would do all of those things if she didn’t believe that she was your mom. To me, you are the luckiest girl in the world to have her in your life Sarah. ”
Sarah listened to every word that her father said and knew that it was true, despite how she made things out to be. She knew that she should have never listened to those girls. They only wanted to cause trouble. “I'm sorry dad, I really am. I didn't mean to be a jerk to you and especially mom. I guess I just let everything get the best of me. I promise that it won't happen again.”
“Good, and if anything like this happens again, I want you to tell us so we can put an end to this. Now your punishment…”
Sarah's head shot up in disbelief, “What, I'm still being punished?”
“Oh yes you are,” Joel smiled. “You got into a fight at school today young lady.”
“Yeah, I guess that's fair. What is it?”
He got up and took her phone off of her desk, “Well you won't be needing this for a while. I'm also going to need you to unplug this computer and put it in the kitchen. If you need a computer, you can use your mom's laptop, only for homework though.”
“Okay I will. Should I apologize to mom now?”
“No, I need to go check on her first. When things calm down a bit more, then you can. I love you Sarah, but please, don't let this happen again.”
“I know dad and I won’t, I promise,” she then gave Joel a big hug before he left to check on you.
When he got back to the living room, you and Maria were nowhere to be found. Thinking that you went upstairs, he ran up only to be greeted by an empty room.
‘What the fuck?’ he thought to himself as he ran back downstairs. 
He was confused beyond hell on where you could be. That's when sitting on the kitchen counter, he saw a note waiting for him. It read:
Joel baby,
You know that I love you with all my heart and nothing is going to change that. But I think that it's for the best that I leave for the night. I don't need to be here causing added drama or tension. I never meant to do anything to make Sarah think or feel like she wasn't my daughter Joel. Just let her know that I'm sorry and if she wants to talk, I'll be there for her. I really hope that we can get past this. I love you Joel and I'll see you in the morning.
Love,
Your doll
“Son of a bitch!” Joel shouted as he crumbled up the paper in his hand. There was no way that you just did that.
“Dad, is everything okay?” Sarah asked, peeking out from her room.
“I don't know, just…just stay here. I'll be right back,” then without another word, he ran out of the house leaving a confused Sarah behind.
Like a mad man, he ran next door to his brother's house and began banging on the door, “Y/N! Y/N!” he shouted. “Please let me in. We need to talk!” He then tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Please doll, I know that you are hurting, but it's not what you think. I talked to Sarah, and we sorted this whole thing out!”
He paused for a second when he heard the lock move, however instead of you, it was an angry Maria behind the door, “Jesus Joel, will you calm down! Someone is going to call the police.”
“I'm sorry Maria, but I really need to see Y/N please. I can't believe you let her leave like that!” he snapped at her.
“Look Joel, I didn’t have a choice! After you left to be with Sarah, Y/N just broke down and began having a panic attack. I couldn’t get her to calm down. She said that she couldn't stay there and that she needed to leave. So, I helped pack her an overnight bag and brought her over. This really isn’t healthy for her or the babies Joel.”
“I know Maria and that's why I need to speak with her. I need to let her know that it's okay for her to come home now. I talked to Sarah, and everything is okay. I need her to come home, so Sarah can apologize,” Joel pleaded with her. “If she doesn’t want to come home tonight, then that's fine. I just need to explain things to her.”
Maria just gave him a sympathetic smile and hugged him, “I'm glad that you worked things out Joel, but I'm still not going to let you in. Y/N is asleep right now. She ended up not feeling well again, so I sent her to bed. Maybe when she wakes up, I'll tell her that you came for her okay. Just go home for now.”
Joel tried to reach out and stop the door from closing, but it was too late. Maria had already closed and locked it. He didn't mean to, but his emotions got the best of him, and he punched the door as hard as he could. He didn't even care if his knuckles and hand were throbbing as he walked back to his house. It was better than the ache in his heart that he was having.
When he got back, Joel found Sarah standing there with your note in her hand and tears pouring down her face. “Did she really leave dad?”
“Come here,” he called out to her and held her, “Yes, she did baby girl, but she'll be back later or in the morning. She just wasn't feeling good and went to Maria's to lie down and give us some space. Once she gets back, we can get things between you two all sorted out. I don't want this to worry you, okay. Everything is going to be fine.”
“Okay. I love you dad.” 
“I love you two baby girl. Now why don't you go to your room and work on some homework. I'll see about making us some lunch or something in a second.”
Sarah just nodded and walked back to her room feeling more guilty than before. Despite what Joel had said. Grabbing her book bag, she went to go sit at her desk and work, but that's when a turned over picture frame caught her eye. Flipping it over, she saw that it was a picture of you and her that Joel had taken at the courthouse when you officially adopted her when she was seven. 
That's when she knew what she had to do. She had to get her mom back and get things back to where they needed to be. So, hoping that Joel wouldn’t be too mad at her, Sarah opened her window and climbed out. She then nervously walked across the lawn to Maria's. However instead of heading to the front door, she tried the guest room window first to see if you were in there.
Thankfully there you were asleep on the bed with a cold compress on your head. Taking a deep breath, Sarah nervously tapped on the window hoping you would stir. It took a couple of attempts, but after the third or fourth try, you finally woke up and pulled the compress off your eyes.
Rolling over, you looked towards the window and Sarah was staring at you. “What the heck?” you said out loud as you got up and went over to the window. “Sarah, wh-what are you doing here?”
“Hey mom, can we talk?”   
697 notes · View notes
thepastdied · 1 year
Text
Some Fun
eddie munson × fem!reader smut
Summary: You are Dustin's cousin and meet Eddie for the first time. Things get hot.
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Loud laughter erupted from the dining room, echoing throughout the Henderson home and up the stairs.
Your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.
"What the hell.." You murmered.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and stretched. It was just about 6pm, though still fairly bright out on this summer day, and the sky glowed a beautiful orange that poured through your bedroom window.
You'd just gotten back from college over on the East Coast. Every summer you come back to your aunts house, where you will stay for the next few months before returning back to your university. She was like a mother to you. And Dustin, Dustin was like a brother.
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You kicked the covers off of you and swung your legs off the side of the bed before slumping over to your dresser. You'd regretfully overslept, your nap only meaning to be a couple hours, and now felt more tired than you did after finishing those chores this morning.
You changed out of your sweaty clothes and pulled on some pajama shorts, a tank top, and fixed your hair. More laughter came from the first floor, and you scrunched your eyebrows. Mike is so obnoxious..
Your feet padded against the hard wood floor of the hallway as you made your way downstairs.
"Hey." You threw an effortless greeting at the kids without looking up.
You sighed and went into the kitchen to get a glass from the cupboard. Your eyes flickered over to the dining room, the table half in view, to see the boys who've grown up far too quickly chuckling with one another.
Lucas so happened to look over and smiled as he gave you a small wave. Mike noticed, and so did Dustin, causing them all to turn around.
"You look like a fucking zombie." Mike cringed at you.
Your jaw dropped as you scoffed and shook your head.
"Well, I did sleep for literally 4 hours." You pointed out.
"Thought atleast one of you little shits would have woken me up so I could get you dinner". You added in annoyance before moving to the fridge.
You rummaged around before finally retrieving the lemon you'd been looking for and moving back into the boys' view.
"Well, Eddie already ordered us pizza since you were too busy sleeping," Dustin said.
"Child neglect." Mike just had to throw at you, causing you to mouth a 'shut the fuck up' in his direction.
"Wait, who?" You raised an eyebrow at them as you grabbed a knife from the drawer.
A head appeared out from behind the wall, scaring the living hell out of you and causing you to almost throw your knife.
"JESUS FUCK! You scared- oh, wow, hi" You stared at the brown eyed boy who had a silly grin on his face and instantly blushed. 'oh wow' Really!?
He snorted out a laugh as he stepped forward, a heavily ringed hand sticking out in front of you.
"I, my lovely maiden, am Eddie. Eddie the Banished." His eyes flickered down at your body before locking back onto yours. "My last name is actually Munson.. not Banished."
The boys began to talk with one another again and you were grateful, considering you were making a complete fool out of yourself.
You reached forward to grab his hand as you shyly laughed.
"I'm.." You blinked a couple of times. His eyebrows raised and disappeared into his fluffy bangs in anticipation. You somehow forgot your name.
"-y/n." You blurted out.
He grinned widely, revealing his perfect teeth and deep smile lines, head lightly bowing as he held your hand before letting go.
"Well, we were just about to throw a movie on - if you wanted to join." He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and puffed his chest out.
You slowly nodded a few times, the gears in your brain having trouble working properly.
"This is a scary movie we are talking about, I hope?" You tilted your head in question.
"Is Children of the Corn scary enough for you?" He leaned his tall frame against the wall, one leg crossing over the other coolly.
You bit the inside of your cheek. Scary movies never really got to you. But if you get to sit next to him then.. suddenly, you find this movie terrifying.
"I should be able to hold myself together." You smirked up at him.
You turned around to go back to your task of cutting up the lemon for your water. Eddie didn't move an inch and instead raked his eyes down your body. You glanced over to him, his eyes fixated on your bare thighs. You cleared your throat.
"I can meet you guys in the living room?" You spoke without looking at him. You didn't want him to feel flustered about you catching him staring.
"Y-yeah, sure." He clumsily scurried to where the kids were.
You released a long breath and held your aching chest as he disappeared into the other room.
×
Eddie gave the kids pizza while you went to grab blankets for everyone. The larger couch in the living room has a pullout bed where the three boys stayed huddled together with the large pizza box in the center. You found it adorable, just like the old days.
"You need help up there?" Eddie calls up the stairs.
Your tongue sticks out from between your lips as you stretch your arms as high as you can to reach the top shelf of the closet.
"I'm- shit..!" Your fingers graze the corner of the blanket before your toes give out, and you slumped back onto your feet.
Eddie reaches the top of the stairs just as you slap your hands to your side in defeat.
"Please.." You sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.
He chuckles and (unnecessarily) walks behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he easily grabs the blanket and tosses it over your head. You flail your arms and bunch it into your chest, sending him a playful glare, your hair messy and in your face.
"Eddie the Banished is about to really get banished." You lean forward and narrow your eyes as you blow the stray hairs out of your face.
"You are gonna banish me? Sweetheart, I'd like to see you try." He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and wiggles his eyebrows.
"Oh my god, what does that even mean?" You slap his arm at his supposed dirty remark.
He holds where your hand made contact and throws himself against the wall, sliding down until he is a heap on the floor.
"No- no! Please! Don't banish me- I'll do anything!" He pleads as he grabs your ankle.
Your hand covers your mouth as you giggle at his over the top theatrics. He is fucking insane..
"Eddie.. get off the floor." You shake your head in disbelief.
"That's what you want me to do? I was hoping it would be something more like... you know-" He pauses his pleas and whispers.
"Wha- Eddie, get up!" You reach down and grab his arm, as if that will do anything.
He wears a mischievous smile as he stands and shakes his hair. You close your eyes and breathe out before walking past him to go downstairs. The boys didn't seem to notice either of you were gone and as you rounded the corner to the living room Eddie grabbed your arm.
"Hey, you should sit with me." His eyes flicked between yours, nervous that you'd say no.
You nodded your head and continued to the living room, blinking a few times as you see each of the boys already had their own blanket.
"Where did you get those?" You pointed to each of them.
Dustin looked at you as if you were stupid and pointed go the door on the opposite side of the living room. "The closet."
You stared blankly as they continued their conversation and looked at Eddie. His tongue was in his cheek as he stared back smirking and patted the cushion next to him on the empty couch. A wave of anxiety hit you as you approached him and slumped down. Eddie came upstairs after you. He must have known the kids already had blankets. You stilled when his thigh touched yours as he spread his legs.
Dustin shut the lights and started the movie, the entire room being enveloped in darkness.
You looked down at Eddie's legs and felt your heartbeat thump in your chest.
And Eddie, he was looking at your crossed legs and didn't miss the way they were clenching together.
The past thirty minutes have felt like an eternity. You were practically dripping into your shorts.
Your eyes shot down as Eddie moved one of his hands to his thigh and rubbed his palm against his rough jeans, slowly working his fingers toward you. You jumped when his fingertips barely grazed the outside of your thigh. He turned his head to look at you as he did it again, watching your chest rise as you took in a sharp breath. You let him put his whole hand on your thigh and leaned your leg into the touch. His hair tickled your shoulder as he grazed his lips against your ear.
"Is this okay, sweetheart?" He rubbed his thumb in circles and moved his hand slowly toward the inside of your thigh.
You silently nodded and moved the blanket onto your lap, spreading your thighs just a little.
Eddie hummed as he sat upright again and looked over to where the kids sat. Your fingers grabbed his wrist before they were able to meet your pussy. He quickly looked at you, understanding your knowing look.
You sat like that for the remainder of the movie. His hand on your inner thigh and both of you excruciatingly horny, though unable to go further for obvious reasons.
"Welp. We're gonna go for a bike ride." Dustin stood up and stretched, the others following suit as he flicked the table lamp on. They began to grab the empty soda cans from the side table.
"A bike ride now? It's going on 8pm -"
Eddie ripped his hand from your leg and stood up, discreetly fixing himself in his pants.
"We can clean up here, shoo shoo. Be back in an hour so we can watch another movie, the night is still young my sheepies!" Eddie shooed them away with his hands and pushed them out the door, each of them giving eachother puzzled looks.
You stood from the couch as Eddie came back into the room and began throwing the trash away while he moved the remaining pizza to the kitchen. There was so much tension that it was unbearable.
"So.." He started. Geez.. now it's even more awkward.
You really, really needed him. Anything from him.
You raised an eyebrow at him as he moved to sit on the couch again, roughly patting his lap. "Come here."
You shifted on your feet and rung your fingers together. The way your legs rubbed together made you want to moan- that's how desperate you were.
He spread his legs out and licked his bottom teeth as you stood in front of him. You put your hands on his shoulders as you moved to straddle his lap.
"Fuck.." He breathed out as his hands gripped your waist and pulled you tighter to him.
You turned your head in embarrassment of the situation.
"Hey-" He moved one hand to your jaw.
"Look at me." Eddie's voice was soft. You did as he said.
"Would it be cool if I like.. kissed you?" He asked before he pursed his lips and scrunched his eyes shut. As if you'd say no?
You giggled at his bashfullness as your hands moved from his shoulders to his chest.
He opened one eye to peek at you and then shut it again to shake his head in a giddy manner.
"Eddieeee.." You whined.
He opened his eyes and lightly laughed before leaning forward and brushing his nose against yours. You smiled when his breath touched your lips, causing him to laugh. He mumbled an apology before moving one hand to the back of your neck and drawing you into a soft kiss. You pulled apart for only a second before he roughly pulled you flush into him, your gasp being silenced by his mouth.
Eddie's fingers raked down your back and to your ass, gripping you hard and moving his hips up into you. You moaned and rolled your hips. He tore his mouth from yours and let his head fall back, his hair dangling over the back of the couch as you sat up.
"Holy fucking s-shit" He moaned with an open mouth and then clenched his jaw as he groaned.
You throbbed when you saw his neck muscles tense up. His chest was hot under your hands as you trailed them down to his pelvis, where you snaked your fingers under his shirt. Your hips ground into him, his jeans giving just the right amount of rough friction to throw you over the edge. His fingers tightened on your ass when you leaned down, tits pressing against his chest, as you latched your mouth onto his neck. You moaned as you felt your slick gush against your panties.
"Woah that.. that's f-fucking good." Eddie shivered as you licked and sucked up his neck to behind his ear.
His dick was rock-hard under you as you rolled your hips against it. Eddie moved his hands in between your bodies as you continued to devour his neck, his breath quaking while he fumbled with his belt and undid his jeans.
Only the thin layer of his boxers was keeping his raw dick hidden from you. You sat up and wiped the saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand. Eddie's head remained on the back of the couch as he rolled it to the side to look at you. His hair was pushed back on one side revealing the dark marks you left on his neck. He probably has no idea. You smirked.
You palmed him through his boxers and could feel the wetness of his precum seeping through. He groaned from his throat and bucked his hips up into your hand.
"Please.." He breathed out, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.
You quickly stood up and removed your shorts, keeping the panties, before sitting back down. Eddie's mouth hung open while he watched your every move.
You positioned your clothed pussy over him and lightly dragged it along his boxers. You sighed in pleasure as the warmth of his dick met your pussy. You felt your slick slide between your folds as you pressed into him, letting your head fall back as you moaned his name.
"Y-you're.. oh god, you're so wet. You're gushing I can f-feel it." He pulled his head up and looked down where your bodies met. Your juices were seeping out of your panties and onto his covered dick.
"Wanna cum on you.." You mumbled, entire body heating up.
Eddie laughed from his throat and frantically nodded.
"And you will, baby. You're gonna fall apart just f'me, huh?" He put one hand back on your ass and another down to your pussy, running his fingers along the outside of your panties. "Fucking soaking.."
He held his hand in front of your face, sticking his glistening fingers together and separating to show the strings of your slick. Both of your breaths were hot and shallow as you continued to grind into him.
"Mm.. never tasted pussy before." He brought his fingers to his mouth and stuck his long tongue out, licking a long strip along his fingers as his dark eyes bore into yours and he moaned at the taste.
"Oh my god-" You choked out a moan and your nails dug into the skin of his waist as you began to roll your hips faster.
"Shit shit shit shit-" Eddie gasped and sat up, holding you by your waist and meeting his hips with each of your movements.
He mouthed at your collarbone and shamelessly moaned as you tangled your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck. His teeth grazed your skin before he lightly bit down and messily kissed a trail up to your mouth. You bit and licked into eachothers mouths.
"Fuck yeah, just like that." He moaned into your mouth as your fast pace brought both of you closer to cumming. "Wanna-" He grunted as his movements stuttered. "Wanna come with you, sweetheart."
"Mhm.. mhm I'm close. R-really close." You kissed him deeper as he got more sloppy, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you against him while another hand came to grab your face. His tongue was almost down your throat, not that you were complaining. You tore away from him and babbled incoherently, head falling slack to your shoulder as your hips jerked against his as you reached your high. A loud cry rang throughout the room as you arched your back and fisted his hair tighter, legs beginning to shake with over stimulation.
"Okay.. woah that's hot -kay.. okay, okay, okay- FUCK." He let out a long guttural moan as he flopped backwards onto the couch.
Spurts of warmth spread from underneath you, both of your juices mixing together. Your chest heaved as you looked him over. He panted as he looked at you, his hair wild and splayed out across the back of the couch, some sticking to his cheeks, and his face flushed and sweaty. He gulped and wiped his face with the sleeve of his Hellfire shirt.
"C'mere.." Eddie motioned you closer, smiling like a complete dope while trying to catch his breath.
You layed on him and breathed out a relaxed sigh as he kissed the side of your head.
"Next time.. maybe we could go in my room?" You speak quietly against his chest, his heart thumping loudly in your ear.
"Next time!? Goddam.. you'll be the death of me, baby. Of course." His chest vibrated at he spoke, belly shaking when he laughed.
You sat up enough to look at his face.
"So you liked it then..?" You leaned in and pecked his lips.
"Seriously?" He grinned widely, just as he did when you first met only hours ago.
"That.. was fun. Shit."
2K notes · View notes
jnnul · 10 months
Text
ready for love
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PAIRING ▸ lee jeno x fem!reader (ft. tbz's juyeon)
GENRES ▸ fluff, non!idol au, college au, slice of life, friends to lovers but also...it’s complicated?
WARNINGS ▸ uhh swearing, drinking (but legally), mentions of infidelity, there was supposed to be so much more but it just turned into a fluff piece sooo..., y/n is indecisive and jeno is stupid, they're a match made in heaven 🫶🏽, jeno is the loverboy of the century towards the end, they make out and a few allusions to sex but no graphics, is it just me or is that header really blurry
SUMMARY ▸ a boy who has never taken a relationship seriously. a girl who is seriously over relationships. when they end up finding each other, will they let their ideas of what a relationship should be like ruin their relationship before it even starts?
PLAYLIST ▸ ready for love - blackpink, lovin’ me - fifty fifty, siren - taeyeon, island - youha, hate that - key & taeyeon
WORD COUNT ▸ 19.5k words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ oh hey it's that one fic i've been writing since july! which reminds me - if that ending looks familiar, it's because technically, this was supposed to come out right after that timestamp did oops.
as always, feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!
far too easy. a couple of lingering stares. a coincidental request on social media. a few well-placed messages. one date later and...done. he was in. hook, line, and sinker.
it was almost getting predictable. at first, lee jeno just wanted to have a little fun. it was never anything serious - and it definitely wasn't always about sex. truly. as distrustful as men had made themselves out to be within the past few thousands of years, jeno truly wasn't thinking with his dick when he got into relationships.
it was just about having fun. he just wanted to get to know people, do sohing romantic just for the experience, and maybe, get to know their body if the relationship felt so inclined.
there was never any delusion about what a relationship with jeno was like. it was two months, if you lasted that long, and every second of it made you feel alive like you never had before. but the honeymoon stage would pass and jeno would lose interest and soon, there would be a heartbroken girl left behind, even though she knew exactly what she was getting herself into.
and it wasn't as though they could really get mad at him. he was a sweetheart through and through and he would continue to say hi if they ever saw each other around and he had definitely saved a couple exes from some ugly encounters. jeno never meant to hurt anyone; it just happened soimes because he was such a good guy.
at least, that’s what you understood of your best friend. from his nights of drunken confessions and the few encounters you’d had with his ‘girlfriends’, you had surmised that jeno lee was just meant to be a serial casual dater.
you, quite frankly, were on the opposite end of the spectrum. after a few too many boyfriends who had turned out to be grade a douchebags, you had effectively sworn off men.
dating was just far too hard. the 'did he notice me?' stage where you dress up a little prettier than normal. and then the internal panic when they request you on instagram. the casual talking stage where you've already accidentally planned out the wedding. the date where you choose to move past all of the blatant red flags you see. and then the relationship, when the red flags become red banners the size of antarctica because goddamnit, how did you miss the fact that this man was a literal freudian case study.
so whenever jeno would introduce his newest girlfriend or go on about his many adventures (including the details about the not-so-family-friendly aspects), you couldn't help but feel a little pang of jealousy because where the hell was jeno finding such amazing relationships? and why the hell isn't he taking them seriously?
you're sure you couldn't even count the number of sweet girls you knew would've been perfect to take home to his mother you had been introduced to before they were gone the next week.
"and that's why i think you're an insufferable brat," you grumble, pointing a stick of celery at him threateningly. jeno snorts slightly, redirecting your celery to the hummus sitting next to where you were perched on his kitchen counter.
"you've been saying that for as long as we've been friends," he says, pouring a spoonful of soy sauce into the rice for the fried rice he was preparing for dinner.
"three years too many," you say, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. "how have we actually stayed friends for three years when you're so...wishy-washy?"
jeno's roommate, na jaemin, rubs his eyes as he stumbles into the kitchen, saluting you sarcastically as he reaches into the fridge to grab an entire bowl of strawberries.
"what a burn, y/n. wishy-washy. yeah, i'll bet that really did a number on him, didn't it, jeno my boy?" jaemin snorts, pouting when he quite nearly drops the bowl of strawberries on his foot.
he also very nearly escapes decapitation by celery stick, ducking from your brutal aim.
"at least i don't have a mommy kink," you snide, salvaging what was left of your celery snack.
jaemin jabs a strawberry in your general direction with a look of indignant betrayal on his face.
"i thought we agreed to never speak of what was revealed during balkan night," jaemin hissed. "you promised, y/n!"
"i was crossing my fingers," you shrug, placating your best friend with an olive branch of a silly smile when he swears vengence by strawberry assault a second time.
"whatever," jaemin grumbles as he slinks back to the darkness of his room. jeno just shakes his head fondly, tossing in the vegetables the two of you had just chopped up into the fried rice.
"why do you always feel the need to rag on him like that?" jeno says, mixing the vegetables into the rice.
"why do you always feel the need to avoid taking a relationship seriously?" you counter, hopping down from your perch to throw out the now empty hummus container.
"you know, anyone hearing this conversation right now would think that you were the one not taking relationships not seriously instead of me," he says calmly, taking a spoonful of rice. he blows on it before reaching out to you, letting you taste-test the fried rice. you hum, sifting through the ingredients in the fridge as you analyze what the missing ingredient was. your eyes land on a small plastic container with finely chopped garlic inside, the realization clicking in your head.
"just because i'm a little youthful and you have the personality of a grandpa doesn't mean that you have to be the one who takes relationships too seriously," you say, sprinkling the garlic into the fried rice. jeno hands you the wooden spatula and lets you take over the cooking process as he finds three bowls for the three of you.
"whatever helps you sleep at night," jeno says with a soft chuckle.
"speaking of relationships though, i'm not going to be leeching off of you for dinner tonight," you say casually, offering a spoonful to jeno this time to let him taste your shared creation.
he flashes you a happy eye smile, retreating into the hallway to call jaemin out of his room for lunch.
"date?" jeno says, a strange look in his eye as he hands you your spoon (you had a preference for only eating with the singular small spoon in the entire apartment for some reason) with a knowing smile.
"somewhat? it's a double date but i'm only going for jimin because she really really likes the guy and she's afraid she's going to fuck it up if it's just the two of them," you explain, giving him a thumbs up for the successful food collaboration.
"do you know who it's with?" jaemin pipes up, seemingly refreshed after consuming an inhumane amount of strawberries.
you furrow your eyebrows, trying to recollect the name of the guy jimin mentioned that jaehyun was bringing before shaking your head.
"i think his name was jayeon? yeonju? juyeon? i don't know, i don't really remember. all i know is that jaehyun better be head over fucking heels for jimin by the end of the night," you say in between bites.
"juyeon? lee juyeon?" jaemin says suddenly, his spoon clattering as he drops it in his bowl. jeno and jaemin exchange a look that you don't miss and you definitely don't like.
"am i missing sohing here? do you guys know him?" you ask, the worry lines on your forehead having become near permanent. jeno shrugs, pushing his food around in an uncharacteristically hesitant manner.
"i mean i just heard that he was a bit of a heartbreaker when he was in college but i don't really think that it was that big of a deal," jaemin says finally. you roll your eyes, puffing out your chest sarcastically.
"i'm a big girl guys, don't worry. i can handle myself," you say, patting jeno's shoulder comfortingly as you move to wash your bowl. "and besides, i'm not actually going there to find the love of my life; i'm just going there to support jimin."
"just be careful, y/n." jeno gives you a quick little side-hug before disappearing into the living room to turn on some tv. you turn to jaemin but your question dies on your tongue when you see that jaemin is already staring at you with an unreadable expression.
"what's up with him?" you ask, when jaemin sighs, getting up to wash his dishes.
"jeno's worried for you," he says. you huff, watching jaemin put his washed bowl into the dishwasher.
"i get that, dipshit. what i don't get is why!" you exclaim, wincing when you realize that you're much louder than you had intended.
"because juyeon's just like jeno."
it's all jaemin says but it's all he needs to say because now, you finally understand.
+++
"now remember, i'm only coming with you for you, okay? if you ever want to just be with jaehyun by yourself, let me know and i'll be more than happy to head on my way out," you whisper to jimin as you flash a bright smile at jaehyun, who approaches the both of you with a dimpled smile as he tucks his car keys into his pocket.
"y/n! it's so good to see you after so long," jaehyun says, pulling you in for a friendly side hug.
"i know," you say, squeezing quickly before letting go. "can you believe it's already been a month since renjun's party?"
jaehyun furrows his eyebrows, shuffling so that he was standing next to jimin. "no, really? has it already been a month?"
he doesn't wait for you to answer, turning to jimin almost immediately. "it's been a month since i met you? why does it feel like i've known you my entire life?"
it takes all you have to turn to the side before fake gagging, unable to help the cringe that runs through your body from the cheesiness, jimin fighting back a giggle, but you can see that her cheeks are bright red.
"jae, for your sake and the beautiful ladies', i'm gonna have to pretend like you never said that," a deep voice says from behind you. the man steps into the light and you're sure that your eyes are about to fall out of their socket.
juyeon is one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. long, long legs that lead up to broad shoulders, beautiful eyes and lips that would make kylie jenner jealous. his dark hair is slicked back and he holds himself with a humble, quiet confidence that makes you ready to fall to your knees instantly. he turns to you and his cool demeanor is instantly broken when he smiles, his face glowing in the faint lights of the restaurant.
"hi, i'm juyeon," he says, sticking his hand out for you to shake. you stare at it for a moment before taking it.
"y/n. it's nice to meet you," you say dreamily, before coming to your senses and retracting your hand. you were here for jimin and jimin only. juyeon and his beautiful face would have to stay in the friend zone - especially if what jaemin had warned you about was true.
but just because you couldn't purchase doesn't mean you couldn't window shop.
"y/n," juyeon drawls, letting your name roll off of his tongue. "a pretty name for a pretty girl."
jimin can barely stifle a giggle at your dazed expression, elbowing you in the rib cage. you shake your head slightly, composing yourself once more. how in hell were you supposed to confine this man to the friend zone if everything he said threatened your very sanity?
"well, they say that you should never keep a pretty woman waiting," you say with coy smile, gesturing towards the restaurant. "shall we head inside?"
juyeon mock-bows while jaehyun opens the door and says, "ladies first."
you blow juyeon a kiss with a teasing smile, linking arms with jimin and sauntering into the restaurant. juvenile? perhaps. but where was the fun in being adult all the time?
the four of you make your way to where there's a receptionist standing behind a booth, jaehyun stating his name for the reservation.
"right this way, ladies and gentlemen," the receptionist says, gathering a handful of menus and leading you to your table.
"so jaehyun tells me you are a business major," juyeon says, falling in step beside you. you hum, shaking your head slightly.
"i was a business major; i double majored in finance and economics, but i graduated two months ago," you explain, thanking the waiter as you take your seat at the table. juyeon takes the seat next to you and jimin takes the seat on the other side so that you were sat directly across from jaehyun.
you're about to turn to jimin and say something only to find her enraptured by some fascinating conversation that her and jaehyun seemed to be having, turning back with a knowing smile.
"i'm sorry, i was under the impression that you were still in school since it's only march," juyeon says, handing you one of the menus the waiter had left on the table.
"i graduated early because of the overlap between my majors. i was required to keep up my grades for my scholarship anyway so i was able to build up credits fairly quickly," you explain, trying to ignore the spark of electricity that you feel when juyeon's fingers linger on yours.
"oh, so you were quite the academic," he says, running a hand through his hair. you determinedly stare at the menu, forcing down the hot flash that runs through your body when juyeon catches you watching.
"you could say so," you nod, scanning the menu. "how about you? what did you major in when you were in school?"
"i was your direct senior," juyeon begins, smiling when he sees the confusion on your face. "i was a finance major in college."
"no way! that's so interesting. where do you work now?" you ask once you put down the menu to meet his eyes. maybe jaemin and jeno were just being overprotective? it wouldn't be the first time they steered you away from heartbreak but juyeon seemed like such a sweet and genuine guy.
because juyeon's just like jeno.
that statement is enough to bring you back to your senses as you focus on what juyeon is saying, jimin and jaehyun still debating the difference between computer engineering and computer science (their respective majors) and which one was better.
nerds.
"i was at amazon up until last summer but i recently switched to a new company. it's a pretty small company but they specialize in cleaning the ocean of plastic and recycling the plastic for 3D printing. it's very niche but i didn't want to just be another finance bro that just worked for the sake of money, you know? i wanted to work with a good consciousness."
maybe curving juyeon from claiming a place in your already fragile heart would be a little more difficult than you expected. kind, environmentally aware and a chose ethical work? juyeon was already better than approximately 90% of your exes.
"how about you? have you started working yet? the market is pretty brutal for freshly graduated f&e people, from what my friends tell me." you nod, internally composing yourself and steeling yourself a little bit more to keep from falling into juyeon's charms.
just like jeno. the reminder is harsh, but it works like magic as you feel the butterflies in your stomach beginning to dissapate.
"it certainly is a lot more competitive than i think a lot of people anticipated. thankfully, i was able to connect to a sponsor during one of the scholarship banquets and was offered a position for right after school," you explained and juyeon's eyes turn from mild and observing to full of respect as he nods, almost approvingly.
"which company?" he asks, taking a sip of his water.
"i actually am working in the finance department at patagonia..."
+++
the night progresses almost too smoothly. once the food had come out, jaehyun and jimin finally seemed to come out of the bubble they were in and the conversation flowed so well, it was almost as though the four of you had known each other for years.
it was clear that jaehyun and juyeon were close, having met each other at work and instantly clicking. the easy back and forth between them allowed you and jimin relax a little more, allowing the conversation to turn to less formal subjects.
you find out that juyeon has a dog, much to your dismay.
"y/n loves dogs!" jimin exclaims, and you can feel your heart's walls crack a little further. there were many things you could handle - a cute boy with a dog? that was a little out of the realm of control.
"really? oh you'd love ray then - he's a big dog but he's got a lot of love. sort of a gentle giant," juyeon says, his eyes twinkling as he pulls out his phone to show you his wallpaper. it's a picture of him and ray curled up next to each other, sleeping in bed, both of them in the same exact position as they snored away.
"i swear, him and ray are the same soul in two different bodies. i've seen this guy have full on conversations with his dog. which would be weird but it kinda just works for them somehow. i kinda think that ray genuinely does understand juyeon," jaehyun snorts, nodding at juyeon's wallpaper. "that was when ray was still a puppy and he would copy every single thing that juyeon did."
juyeon shrugs, smiling as he tucks his phone back into his pocket. "not much has changed there, if i'm being honest."
you're about to say something about meeting ray when your phone rings abruptly, rudely interrupting the conversation. you frown as you flip your phone open, looking at the contact profile on the screen. jeno?
"hello?" you say as you answer the phone, pointing to the restroom as you excuse yourself from the table. from the corner of your eye, you can see the waiter coming with the bill for your table and you vaguely register the fact that only two cards are being put on the table (jaehyun's and juyeon's) as you make your way somewhere a little more private.
"hellooo? y/nnnn-ie? you stilllll at your, huh, date?" jeno slurs into your phone and you hear someone in the background, presumably jaemin, trying to convince jeno to stop himself from saying or doing something stupid.
"yes, jeno, i'm still at my date. that you interrupted, by the way," you say with a frustrated sigh. you check your watch and realize that it's only 9:30 PM and jeno does not sound like he's been taking it easy on the alcohol. "why are you drinking jen?"
"whattttt, so now i'm a shitty lover and i can't, heh, drink?" jeno grumbles into the phone and it's clear from the sudden silence in the background that jaemin has completely giving up on wrestling jeno's phone out of his hand. you had firsthand experience with drunk jeno - he turned into the hulk.
"jen, if you called me in the middle of my date to go off the rails about how you're a lonely fucker, i'm going to kill you," you hiss, smiling at the lady who comes into the restroom as you weren't threatening your best friend with murder.
"I'M NOT A LONELY FUCKER!"
oh, so this part jeno could say without hiccuping or slurring his words. fantastic. you sigh, switching your phone to the other ear as you wash your hands, getting ready to leave the restroom. there's a pregnant pause where no one says anything but you can hear the top gun theme song in the background so you know jeno's on the line.
"if - if i change, will you not go out with juyeon?" jeno mutters finally, just as you're leaving the restroom. "if i finally start getting serious about relationships, will you not go out with him? will you come home?"
you pause at that. jeno's always been the protective type. for all of his own playboy (even if technically he wasn't trying to be a playboy) charm, jeno genuinely wasn't very happy when you dated people. he wouldn't be rude to them and he certainly would never force you to break up with them but every time he would run into them, regardless of how long you had dated them, he always had something to say.
he looks like he jerks off to weird porn. definitely something about shampoo, a hot girl, and way too much viagra.
he has a small dick.
he makes his girlfriends lose weight even though he has a beer belly.
i'm not even gonna lie to you - i just hate the fact that he's balding.
most of the reasons that jeno gave you were kinda stupid. but ultimately, he was usually right about which people to avoid and even if he said it was because they were ugly and balding, it was usually because he knew that they weren't kind people on the inside.
it was because you just didn't have a great self-image, jeno used to say. if you saw yourself the way the rest of us - the way i see you, you'd never even give some of these assholes a chance, y/n. think of it as playboy experience about how to find the people actually worth your time.
but he had never said anything like this before. for all of the hazy comments and strange strength jeno developed when he was drunk, he had never said anything like this to you before. mostly because jaemin was really good at protecting his roommate from making stupid decisions but it was clear that even jaemin couldn't stop this.
"jen, you sound crazy right now," you say, rubbing your forehead. you step out of the restroom to see juyeon waiting at the table alone, as jimin and jaehyun seemingly already left together. "i don't really know what you're trying to say and quite frankly, i have no clue why you're acting like this. ask jaemin to make sure you're drinking a lot more water and we'll talk about this in the morning, alright?"
jeno doesn't say anything but from the shuffling in the background, you realize that jaemin has finally rose from his slump and was signaling something to jeno. good. maybe jaemin would be able to understand why the fuck jeno was acting like this.
there's an exchange of words, mostly jaemin berating jeno to hand over the phone as you hear a loud thump in the background before jaemin is speaking.
"hey, y/n it's me," jaemin says. it's clear that he's been drinking too but jaemin isn't too much of a drinker so he still sounds pretty levelheaded as he speaks.
"what's up with jeno, jaemin? why is he acting like that?" you ask, making your way over to the table slowly. you realize that juyeon is holding onto your coat and suddenly, you're not really sure about what to do. you don't know what it is about the simple fact that juyeon is holding your coat but the entire thing seems a little domestic. like the two of you actually were on a date.
"y/n, i'm gonna be so honest with you, i think it's best if you have some distance from jeno for a while. i think he's just getting in his head about stuff he shouldn't be and really, i think the only way he's gonna get over it or figure out how to talk to you about it if he has some distance."
how perfect. you sigh, running your hand through your hair as you smile at juyeon, who helps you put your coat over your shoulders, the scent of his cologne filling up your lungs. you decide that if it was distance that jeno wanted, it was distance jeno was going to get. quite frankly, this wasn't the first time jeno had randomly pulled away from you, even if it was the first time he had finally come close to clueing you into why.
it was clear that jeno didn't like you dating people - especially not juyeon. maybe even to the extent of jeno changing his own playboy ways to convince you otherwise of interacting with juyeon.
you had considered the fact that jeno might be interested in you romantically or that maybe he was jealous for your affections. but every time you thought that, jeno would come back from his faraway space with a new girl and a genuine twinkle in his eye and suddenly, everything was back to normal.
jeno simply was an overprotective person, you decided. and he would do whatever he thought was right to make sure that the people around him didn't get hurt.
it really did check out, honestly.
jeno was equally overprotective of everyone in his life because getting that close to him in the first place was a feat within itself. once you made it past that original barrier, however, he would be willing to give his life if he thought it would help even the slightest.
but...even so. this was weird.
either way, juyeon was opening the passenger door to his car and you were aimlessly climbing into it so any and all thoughts about jeno would have to wait until you made it down this slippery slope first. the last thing you needed in the morning was the honest to god gripping panic of doing the walk of shame.
juyeon doesn't seem like the type to expect a lady to put out because he bought her dinner but you can never be too careful. he seems to notice your apprehension because he asks you for your address upfront, raising three fingers in an oath.
"i promise to conduct no funny business and i will take you home safe and sound, y/n," he says solemnly, and the way his eyes sparkle in the light of the moon is enough to make your resolve melt a little bit as you laugh softly.
"alright juyeon. since you promised no funny business," you quip lightly, entering your address on the navigation screen next to the steering wheel.
juyeon squints at your address, which is fifteen minutes away, before looking at you strangely. "are you sure this is the right address? my building is right next door! i would've seen you at some point, and trust me, i'd never forget a face like yours."
"uh, yeah, this is my address. i'm usually never home though, since i'm always either with jimin or my friends jaemin and jeno," you say, watching as juyeon sets the car in reverse to pull out of the parking spot. his arm lifts, as though he were going to put it behind the headrest of your seat to do the classic flirting move to reverse. he sets it back down when he sees you staring at the screen (which had a rearview camera feed on it), realizing that it would be dumb to try and make a move in such a cliché way.
"jeno? jeno lee?" juyeon asks as you guys pull out of the parking spot. you glance at him sideways, wondering if he were going to offer the same cautionary tale that jaemin and jeno had presented to you.
"yeah. he's one of my best friends. do you know him?" you ask, already presuming the answer.
juyeon is silent, as though he's weighing options in his mind. should he be honest with you? should he preserve your feelings?
"i know of him. i don't know him all that well," juyeon says finally, and you know that juyeon has decided to take the third option. neutrality. and while you're tempted on asking him to expand, you really don't know him well enough to do that.
so you just leave the topic aside and wait for him to start a different conversation.
he does soon enough, but you know that his heart isn't in it anymore. you engage in polite smalltalk until he pulls up to your apartment complex. you thank him for driving you and are about to step out of the car when juyeon suddenly touches your wrist gently, afraid to make rude or rough gestures.
you pause, half out of the car as you turn to him with a quizzical smile.
"i had a good time getting to know you today, y/n. and i know that it was just an excuse for those two to go on a date without making it weird but i really did have a good time getting to know you. i hope that i didn't make a bad impression at the end." his eyes are shining under the dim lighting of the few rooms that are still lit up in your apartment complex.
you smile at him gently, shaking your head to assure him. "you didn't make a bad impression. i had a good time getting to know you too."
you're ready to step out of the car once more when juyeon's fingers on your wrist wrap around them, this time a little bit more firm on claiming your attention.
"i - i want to see you again. i've honestly never connected this well with someone before. would you be open to that?" juyeon asks. you pause for a moment before giving in. how could you say no to him when he was looking at you with such big, brown eyes with so much hope hidden in them?
but even as you give juyeon your number, you can practically hear the bright red warning signs in your mind - and for some reason, jeno was the one screaming every single one of those signs.
"good night y/n," juyeon says, his smile every inch as heartbreakingly charming as the moment you knew he'd be bad for you.
you offer a tight, cautious smile in return. "good night juyeon."
+++
for someone who was fiercely overprotective of his friends, jeno had a strange tendency of self-sabotaging his relationships with them. not all of them - mostly just you. he didn't know what it was about you but somehow, he always just seemed to be saying the wrong things at the wrong time.
jaemin seems to think that it's because jeno has feelings for you (which he most definitely does not) (at all) (for real).
it wasn't as though jeno didn't like when you went on dates. in fact, he liked to think that he was rather supportive. it was just that you had a tendency to pick out all of the shittiest men in seoul to date and quite frankly, jeno hated it.
and you knew that. you'd been dealing with jeno's strange tendencies for three years now. he knew that you knew that he'd call you by next week and everything would be back to normal. that's usually how it went when you went on a particularly serious date on any level. strange set of coincidences that jeno only seemed to fuck up the worst right before or after a date you were raving about.
huh.
"i'm telling you jeno, you have got to tell her the way you feel about her," jaemin says, tossing a water bottle at jeno. they're sitting on the floor in front of the tv, watching money heist halfheartedly. terrible show to be their 'let's talk about our feelings' show but jaemin and jeno never could have a conversation like that without some level of violent scheming occurring in the background.
"i don't feel any way about y/n, jaemin. honestly, it's getting really fucking annoying that you keep saying that i do," jeno says, digging his chopsticks into his chinese takeout food. jaemin rolls his eyes, sitting down next to jeno with his own box of takeout.
"i swear to god. why did you call her then? why did you call her on her date last night?" jaemin asks. jeno shrugs, setting his food down before sighing.
"i don't know, okay? i just...you know what happened with juyeon. i just can't imagine her going through something like that," jeno says softly. jaemin looks at him before clearing his throat, forcing jeno to look at him square in the eyes.
"look, i know that you and juyeon don't have the greatest past but you have got to let her find her person. who knows! maybe juyeon's changed in the last three years. you literally don't know him anymore. and besides, this isn't about juyeon and you know it. you did this when she got with daniel, and then sunghoon, and then even doyoung." jaemin shakes his head, trying to get jeno to understand his own feelings. "you're blind to it but every time she actually feels good about someone, you somehow need to take a break from her. why?"
jeno doesn't actually have the answer to that question. why, indeed, is the question of the night.
later that night, when jaemin has turned in (or rather, announced that he was going to sleep, only to sit in bed and occupy their shared netflix account for hours), jeno pulls out his phone and searches up three words.
we need space.
he searches in his messages and cringes when he sees the number of outgoing texts that have space (as in the number of times he's broken up with someone over text) in them. he filters all of the other people out except for you and it pisses him off that jaemin is right.
may 2020. the first time jeno had asked you for some space, when you'd asked daniel to be your boyfriend.
august 2021. the second time you guys had taken some space, when you'd gone on your first date with sunghoon.
september 2022. the third time that you had had to take a break from each other. when jeno had introduced you to doyoung with his own hands.
realistically, jeno knew that jaemin was right. and with the evidence staring at him so incriminatingly, there was no way to refute the accusations.
but as much as jeno had dated around, he still didn't know what or who he was looking for. sure he was attracted to you as a person and your, uh, physicality - but that didn't mean that you were the one for him. and if jeno were to pursue something with you that made him realize that you truly weren't what he was looking for after all, not only would he be losing you as a partner but he'd be losing you as a best friend too.
so he continues in the toxic cycle of taking a break from you every time he feels as though his feelings are getting too high in his chest for him to contain them and never giving you or jaemin an explanation of why.
jeno knew it was wrong. he knew that his life would be so much easier if he just came clean and you fell one way or another on the scale of 'already dated' and 'haven't dated yet' like most of the girls on campus. but it was different with you.
it'd always been different with you.
so jeno rolls over, and goes to bed, dreaming of you and juyeon holding hands on your first date alone. he's never had such a restless night of sleep in his life.
+++
you know that you're being a bad friend to jimin when she's pouting at you swirling your straw in your macchiato instead of listening to her rambles.
"come on, y/n. it's been three days. you know that jeno gets like this - it's not like this is new right?" jimin says, covering your hand with both of hers, blinking at you curiously.
you smile and shake your head. "yeah. i'm sorry. this is supposed to be about you and i'm just getting in my head about this shit."
jimin tuts, eyebrows furrowing in mock anger. "that's not what i mean and you know it. i'll talk about jaehyun whether you're listening or not and you and i both know that. i just - i guess i'm not sure why you're always so hung up over jeno doing this when you know that he's gonna do it."
"you're right. it's not new. and i'm sorry that it keeps coming up when i really hate that he does this but i just wish he would talk to me instead of shutting me out every time that something like this happens. it's just him and jaemin cooped up and talking to each other for a week before they go back to being normal. and i get it. they're guys. they need a break and they need to do guy things and take a break from girls or whatever the fuck straight boys do. but this is getting out of hand and ridiculous."
but you catch yourself, shaking your head once more as you focus on jimin. "thank you for letting me get that out of my system. now tell me what you were saying about jaehyun. i feel like i've lost my best friend to some random guy for the past three days!"
jimin eyes you for a moment longer (and you know that she's not going to let this go) but decides to take mercy on you.
"well, jaehyun and i have been doing really well, honestly! we've seen each other every single day for the last three days - which isn't that hard considering that we've been having sex all day in every square inch of his apartment." jimin sees the scandalized look on your face before laughing. "don't worry, he lives alone and we've actually been going on non-sexual dates too. we connect in more ways than one if you get what i mean."
you slap jimin's arm incredulously, looking around the cute little café that you were sitting in to make sure that no one was listening. no one was, of course, given that it was 11:30 am on a monday but that was besides the point.
"oh my god. so are you guys going to make it official or what?" you ask, leaning forward on your steepled fingers. jimin shrugs, leaning back in her chair languidly.
"i don't know. i mean, i really like our chemistry and i like where this is going but i'm not going to label it. i'm definitely not going to be the one to pop the 'what are we' question - that's gotta be him," jimin says. "even though i am so incredibly head over heels for him. so i would like to be his girlfriend. for realsies."
she adds on the last part almost as an afterthought when she sees your unbelieving face.
"i mean it! i really want to be more than just a situationship but i really can't be the one to initiate that. i'm tired of always having to express interest in others. i attract; i don't chase," jimin says with a catty smile and you can't help but grin at that.
maybe jeno was really onto something. girl time was amazing. maybe that's why jeno needed some space from you.
"i agree. and you know what, i don't want to knock it but that honestly doesn't seem all that strange, considering that your location has consistently been showing that you're at jaehyun's place for the past 72 hours," you say, laughing at her mischievously when she returns the favor with a slap to your arm.
"i don't know. yeah. anyway. speaking of jaehyun, or not really him, but his friend - not the point! jaehyun mentioned that you gave juyeon your number? and that you've been kinda talking?" jimin says, and now it's your turn to blush.
"no - i mean, yes. i did give him my number but it's honestly not like that. he seems great and all but jeno and jaemin seemed really spooked when i mentioned him. i trust them when it comes to boys. especially with my shitty taste in them," you say thoughtfully and jimin can't help but agree with that.
she checks her phone and groans, starting to shuffle her things together as she prepares to leave. "this has been so good but i have to get to class and you know how much of a pain in the ass professor joo is."
you also start to gather your belongings, slurping down the leftovers of your macchiato. "yeah. i think that my early lunch break is coming to an end anyway. i've got a meeting at 6 pm but we're still on for dinner and drinks this friday, right?"
jimin nods distractedly as she checks her phone to see if jaehyun had texted her. he hadn't. in the past four hours. she clicks her phone shut and looks at you with a determined look in her eyes.
"yes. for sure. you and i have a date this friday and i don't want you to cancel, you hear me? and do not let those investors keep my baby from me like they did last time," jimin says, wagging her pointer finger at you threateningly. you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to her cheek as the two of you make your way out of the café.
"i hear you. no more investors past 7 pm on a friday," you say, raising your hands in surrender when jimin squints her eyes at you. she side hugs you before checking the time once more (therefore realizing that professor joo wasn't above calling her out in the middle of class) and scurrying off to snu, a block down from the café you were previously in.
you sigh, shaking your head fondly as you turn in the opposite direction to head to work.
+++
turns out, friday seems to be a very popular night. not only do you have back to back meetings from 4 pm to 7 pm, but juyeon and jimin have texted you multiple times to confirm or (try) to make plans for friday night.
and honestly you didn't really want to go out. in between the radio silence between you, jeno, jaemin (who only really communicated in really stupid tiktoks back and forth), juyeon's suave maneuvering you into agreeing to a raincheck to saturday for the date, and jimin lamenting the fact that jaehyun hadn't brought up the 'what are we' conversation, there was so much going on.
all you needed were your friends, chinese takeout, and a little bit of jane the virgin. or other soapy dramas to take your mind off of everything.
but you had promised jimin and you'd be damned if you were going to bail on your friend when she was already not feeling well.
and besides, you refused to be a corporate slave who canceled on her friends because she was married to her job. that's not why you had chosen this job. and that's definitely why you had decided to reject pre-med as a sophomore in college.
so you find yourself taking shots with jimin in her kitchen and...jaehyun and juyeon.
when you had walked into jimin's apartment with nachos and shooters of pink whitney to pregame, you really weren't expecting to be face to face with juyeon - or jaehyun, honestly, given that jimin had been so heartbroken over the fact that jaehyun hadn't initiated the conversation yet.
not to mention the fact that she had made sure that the two of you were going out in the first place because of the whole jaehyun fiasco. so when you come face to face with the last person on the planet who should be in jimin's apartment, you're more than a little confused.
"oh, hey y/n. long time no see," jaehyun says with an easy smile, dimples showing that he had no clue that you knew that your best friend was waiting on a kind of serious conversation with him. you manage a tight smile before pulling shooters out of your purse, putting all four of them down on the counter in front of you.
"yeah. i thought it'd be a little longer though. jimin, i thought we were having a girls night?" you ask, eyes flashing at her when you turn out of view from jaehyun and juyeon. jimin just shrugs helplessly as juyeon steps in.
"don't blame her. i was the one who asked if we could tag along for the night. i promise we won't cause any trouble," juyeon says, and you turn to look at him, only to see him looking straight at jaehyun. his eyes dart between jaehyun and jimin before finally landing on you and you take the hint.
"oh. no worries. yeah, no worries at all, actually. hey, you know what i actually wanted to confirm something about tomorrow's plans with you if i could steal you for a couple seconds?" you say, leaving no room for denial as you wrap your arm in his and walk the both of you to the balcony, closing the door behind you.
"thank you for understanding - jaehyun wants to talk to jimin today about making things official but he's been so nervous about it that he's been putting it off. i figured that it would be better for me to come with him to make sure he doesn't chicken out. and catch you guys before you leave so that he doesn't sit and ferment in his feelings any longer," juyeon explains slowly, sure to refrain from turning around to see how things were going inside.
you lean over the metal bars of the balcony, the cold sinking into your skin in a refreshing way, the april air finally warming up enough to go out without needing a literal winter jacket.
"ahh. good idea. don't tell her i told you this but she was worried that he really wasn't into her," you say. juyeon snorts, a sound that's almost unbecoming from a man so handsome.
"isn't into her? he's head over heels for her. i don't think it's taken him more than thirty minutes to get into a relationship with someone if he wanted to. the fact that he took over a week to figure out his feelings means that he's serious. more serious than i've ever seen him." juyeon seems thoughtful as he trails off, letting his words sit on his tongue in a way that almost feels like he can truly feel the weight of the words.
"hm. or is just unsure of how he feels," you say, and juyeon looks at you strangely, turning so that he was leaning on the railing, his gaze fixated on you.
"are you really that cynical about men?" he asks chidingly, and you shrug.
"yeah. i mean. i don't know. i'm best friends with two of them so i know first hand how fucked up men can be. trust me, i pray to god every day for more patience before i fuck jeno or jaemin up for good," you say, and you can feel juyeon's presence grow cold at the mention of your best friends.
when you look at him though, he has nothing but warmth in his eyes and he smiles at you. "i will admit that there are a lot of messed up things that guys have done but it's not fair to categorize all men due to the faults of a few."
"uh-huh. and when men turn into heartbreakers after getting fucked over by one girl...it's okay?" you say, raising an eyebrow and you can feel juyeon trying to physically retract his statement.
"no. no. it's definitely not okay to hurt other people because you've been hurt. but give us some credit, okay? some of us are trying our best," juyeon says, and you watch as his eyes fall to your lips before dragging them upwards again.
"some of us are just trying to find our other half."
you're silent for a moment, and the moment is all you need to push off of the railings and turn to juyeon with a sad smile. "look juyeon, you're a great guy and i hate to nip things in the bud - especially with someone i get along so well with. but my friends are the most important people in my life. so i don't know what happened between you, jeno, or jaemin but i know that if it really came down to it, they take precedence."
juyeon nods, like he'd been expecting you to say as much. how, you don't understand, given that your reasoning had come out of pretty much left field. and for no real reason too. but men are predictable, easy to read, and all it takes is one moment to understand their intentions.
"yeah. i know. i figured you'd pick them. not that i'm trying to guilt you for that or that i expect you to pick me or anything but i still tried my best, you know," juyeon says casually, giving you a thinly suppressed heartbroken smile. you melt slightly as you turn to him, giving him a half shrug.
"i'm sorry. i'm sure your other half would be so lucky to have you," you say gently. you look at your phone, where jimin has texted you saying that she's going to have to bail on girls night as her and jaehyun had decided to stay in for the night. juyeon seemingly gets a similar text because when you look back inside to the apartment, jaehyun is holding hands with jimin, who uses her free hand to wave sheepishly at you as they recede backwards where the bedroom was.
"i guess we've overstayed our welcome," juyeon says with a laugh, opening the balcony door as the two of you make your way back inside to grab any personal belongings and leave before you witnessed something that would end up scarring you forever.
you eye the shooters and then exchange a look with juyeon.
“i know we’re not - whatever but honestly, i think that you’re good company and this kind of night doesn’t deserve go wasted,” you say, grabbing the shooters and juyeon’s hand and dragging him out of jimin’s apartment when you hear the very telltale sign of a bedroom door shutting down the hall.
juyeon takes one look at the shooters in your hand and the glint in your eyes before taking the two of the little bottles you offer to him.
“i can’t believe i’m doing this right now,” juyeon mutters under his breath, but his smile is lighthearted.
“what, grown men can’t drink pink whitney?” you ask, throwing a shooter back and immediately regretting the fact that you don’t have chasers with you. you may not be an amateur on the night scene but alcohol still always needed a chaser.
“no,” juyeon says, knocking back both of them a little too smoothly. “i meant taking shots with the girl who rejected me in front of her best friend’s apartment where her best friend and my best friend are fucking.”
you look at him, searching for any sense of genuine discontentedness but the way that juyeon’s eyes curve into teasing crescents convince you otherwise.
it would be so easy to choose him. so incredibly easy. but jeno’s face flashes through your mind and you find yourself taking a step back, shaking your head when juyeon looks at you questioningly.
“to the club!”
+++
there are two things that you learn about juyeon by the time you’re another two shots deep: a) he is an absolute gentleman - not just to you, but to the other people around the two of you as well. b) he is a very flirtatious drunk.
in fact, he manages the very big, very linebacker looking bouncer to let him into the club even though his name wasn’t on the list with nothing but a charming smile and an absolute inability to keep from flirting with everything and anything in sight.
which is funny to watch, especially from the other side of the bouncer, because every time juyeon says something particularly risqué, you can see the bouncer’s ears go bright red before he finally relents and lets juyeon in.
but it’s somehow less funny when he’s using those lines on you. it somehow makes your head dizzy and it makes you forget why you turned him down in the first place. you’re half-convinced that this had been juyeon’s plan all along. to turn on the charm to the max so that when you’re under the lights (that honestly might invoke epilepsy; why the fuck were they flying around the place like that), you forget all about jeno.
it’s a bad decision, you repeat to yourself as you watch juyeon make his way through the crowd to where you’re standing in an isolated, somewhat calmer corner. jeno and jaemin warned you against him for a reason. protect your peace, y/n.
and even while you repeat that to yourself over and over again, when juyeon’s hand holds yours precariously as he pulls you into the growing mess of bodies, you find it harder and harder to convince yourself that that was the truth. god, he looks good.
his hair has fallen messily across his forehead, contrasting the way it had been carefully gelled back before. he’s rolled up the sleeves of his button up to reveal his forearms, and you feel no matter than a man as your eyes trail the depths that planes of his chest promise from where they peek out of his half unbuttoned shirt.
you’re vaguely aware that there are various people waiting for you to either make a move or to push him away once and for all. it felt like every single person in the club was fixated upon the two of you - do you want him or not? because you’re holding up the fucking line. for you and your friend.
and so you take the plunge.
you move his hand from where it was innocently resting on your wrist and place it on the small of your back, smiling when juyeon takes the hint and draws you closer to him so that your chest is pressed against his.
“hey beautiful,” juyeon breathes as he looks down at you, almost in disbelief. “what are you doing here?”
you know, even tipsy, that he’s looking for a real answer. and you don’t want to play him - you don’t want to add to the list of heartbreak.
“i’m looking for someone to keep me company tonight,” you say and look up at him through your lashes, a coy smile playing on your lips when juyeon’s breath falters as you do so. “just for the night though. you know anyone who might interested?”
juyeon pulls you impossibly closer and you register the copious amounts of men (for you) and women (for him) that are turning away from the two of you, more than a little disappointed.
“yeah, i might know someone.” 
and with that, he spins you so that your back is pressed against his front, his arms caging you in protectively when he sees that a man is looking at you like he genuinely wants to eat you up.
you can feel your self-control slipping further and further away from you as the two of you just let the music fill you up, forgetting about your inhibitions as long as you had this music and him.
it’s too perfect though, and you realize as much when you make eye contact with jeno fucking lee across the club. right before he dips his head to whisper in some girl’s ear.
jaemin is right next to him, his arm laying casually on another girl and you can see the sheer panic in his eyes when he sees you, and then the confusion when he realizes just who you’re pressed up against. you watch as he leans over to whisper (yell; you’re sure that no one can whisper in an establishment threatening to break the sound barrier) something in jeno’s ear but he’s firmly shut down when jeno waves him off.
you scoff at that, turning around the pair of you around so that juyeon’s back was to the two idiots that you call your friends, now facing the dj booth.
the song switches to a much more upbeat song that you don’t recognize and you take it as your cue to push any and all thoughts of your friends out of your mind. you choose to give no apologies for the way that you spend your time - especially if your friends chose to give you no explanation for their behavior.
if they didn’t need to explain themselves, neither do you.
and it works for a while. for a while, all you can think of is the warmth that fills your body. from the alcohol, the heat of juyeon’s body pressed against yours, or even the excitement of the atmosphere; all if it is just so intoxicating.
you forget all about the fact act jeno and jaemin are just a few feet away, actively avoiding you (and doing a poor job of doing so) until juyeon spins you around, looking deep into your eyes in a way that makes you feel, heat rising to your cheeks as you watch his lips move.
“i know that you don’t want - honestly, whatever it is that you don’t want - but jeno and jaemin are here and you haven’t pushed me off of you. so i’m going to shoot my shot for one last time, y/n. and if you reject me this time, i think that we should go our separate ways,” juyeon says, his voice soft and gentle and yet somehow, you can hear every word he says with perfect clarity. 
you honestly don’t know what to say. juyeon had caught you in a bad moment with jeno and jaemin. more specifically, jeno. you didn’t want that to cloud your judgement though. you had known juyeon for a total of maybe a week. you had known jeno and jaemin for years and for those years, their opinions on the men in your life had very rarely been wrong. 
and yet, the boy that they had warned you against was pressed up against you and those two were on the other side of the club, arms wrapped around girls you knew they would forget about by the morning.
you sigh, stepping back from juyeon, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation making you sober up more than you want to. you hear the beat drop to ‘kiss me better’ by rihanna in the background building up and it seems like everything in the universe is just pushing you to give juyeon a chance.
but juyeon understand what you mean when you step away from him and he gives you one last, longing look before smiling, gently tugging you forward so that the two of you can make your way to a less crowded area.
“you wanna go home?” juyeon asks. you know that he’s asking for his own sake, almost as though he was asking for permission to get with someone else to nurse him through his rejection if you wouldn’t. but he’s a gentleman and he wouldn’t leave you for the wolves and so he asks you if you want to go home instead.
“yeah. i want to go home.”
juyeon nods, already pulling out his phone. “let me call you an uber. and y/n? i’m not upset. i’m just glad that i know i did everything i could. jeno’s a lucky guy for you to care this much about what he says and thinks.”
you want to disagree with him. he’s my friend. of course his opinions matter. sorry. it’s not personal. i actually liked spending time with you.
but even as these thoughts battle in your mind, you find yourself unable to say any of the words out loud. 
jimin was your friend but that stopped you very rarely from doing whatever you wanted to do in the end. jaemin would often yell at you for your terrible affinity for working yourself to the bone and you brushed his concern to the side every time. but it was different with jeno. it had always been different with jeno.
you’re too drunk to think about the implications of any of that though so you just smile once again, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to juyeon’s cheek.
“you’re so good, juyeon. regardless of what anyone says.”
and with that, you step into the uber that has reached the club in record time and head home.
+++
you’re not surprised by the text you get from jimin in the morning. or the one from jaemin. in fact, there are only two texts that surprise you when you manage to finally look at your phone with clear enough eyes.
jiminy cricket: OMG i’m so sorry abt last night love!! heard you went out w juyeon tho ;) we need to debrief fr
jaejaeminna: sorry i didn’t get a chance to say hi before you left
juyeon lee: did you get home safe?
ur mom (jeno): can we talk?
you respond to jimin with a quick for sure, girlie! before stepping into the shower, electing to ignore the rest of the messages in your phone. your roommate, jessica, a girl that you barely interacted with, given that she was usually at her boyfriend’s place or you were at jeno’s or jimin’s had kindly left extra pancakes that she had clearly made before she dashed out of the house.
you munch on them slowly, sending her a message of profound gratitude as you try to digest the events of last night (as well as the delicious pancakes), making sure to tousle your hair every so often to get it to dry faster.
first, jimin and jaehyun had clearly made things somewhat official (or at least were on the same page) which meant that you probably wouldn’t have to try and help jimin decipher what that entire situation was. a win, really. second, you and juyeon had gone clubbing together and had shared more than one or two intimate moments. third, you shot him down once and for all. fourth, he still called you an uber and made sure you made it home safe. fifth, you saw jeno and jaemin at the club and neither of them said anything to you.
this was officially the longest that you had gone without speaking to jeno - or even jaemin. 
even the stupid tiktok’s had faded away to nothingness by the end of last week from jaemin, which meant that something was so incredibly wrong, it wasn’t even funny.
also, jeno never said can we talk. 
it was usually a much more casual wanna get chinese? or even a bring your stupid ass over here cause jaemin misses you. that was more his speed in his form of apology or trying to make it clear to you that the two of you were back to normal now. he’d never acknowledge the two or three days of radio silence, electing to just pretend that they never happened in the first place.
so going from not talking at all to suddenly such a loaded question was new and kind of surreal for you. not to mention that jaemin’s last text to you was also indicative that something was seriously off between the three of you. the text before that had been a tiktok of a man sitting in a car yelling, “it’s the way you act!” and now it was that he didn’t say hi at the club.
you sigh, debating all of your options carefully. 
you were obviously going to have to talk to jeno about the situation at some point. and honestly, you were going to have to have a serious conversation about the fact that he would do this every so often because it’s getting way too much for you to handle. it wasn’t as though you were doing something wrong - jaemin would call you out on your behavior, even if jeno didn’t. 
you were left to decipher what exactly it was that had jeno in such a pissy mood and you would have to try and figure out what it is on your own because he’s a grown man that doesn’t know what communication meant. for someone who always warned you against the toxicity of men, he was doing a pretty great job of showing you exactly why to avoid them. 
pushing all thoughts of jeno and everything else to the side, you decide to take the day as a self-care day for yourself. lord knows that with everything you had going on, self-care was the one thing you desperately needed. of many things, really, but taking a walk and soul food was going to have to do.
you’re just putting on a face mask (one of the korean ones that you had had to sell your left foot to pay the shipping for) when your doorbell rings and you hate the way that you already know who’s at the door even before you step to the entryway, where the monitor is to see who is buzzing for you.
you’re greeted by jeno’s face, alone, looking worse for the wear as he ruffles his hair, shifting from foot to foot as he waits for you to either let him in or at least press the intercom to speak with him. you’re trying to make a decision and you know that decision, as trivial as it seems, would be what would set up your friendship with him in the future.
were you really going to give him another chance? even as he continued to mess up this hard?
you don’t say anything in the intercom but the faint buzzing noise that echoes in the monitor is response enough as jeno opens the door that has opened once you pressed the button, effectively solidifying your decision.
he was jeno. your jeno. you couldn’t just not listen to what he had to say.
the time that jeno takes to make it to the fourth floor where your apartment was seemed to have stretched on for eternity. you weren’t sure the last time that jeno had been in here (last weekend) but suddenly everything in the apartment was just too messy.
you panic and rush to clean everything in sight before you pause awkwardly. this is just jeno. the same boy who had come over and thrown up on your birthday after drinking too much at your party. the same boy who would be sitting in his room screaming into his headset as he played video games, having no regard for you and jaemin spending quality quiet time together. 
and he was also the boy who asked for space when you needed him the most.
so you put down your weapon of choice (a swiffer mop) and wait for the eventual knock at the door that finally comes about a half second later. you take a deep breath before opening the door, coming face to face with your ‘best friend’ of the past three years. 
the little monitor had done the damage little justice. the eyeballs under jeno’s eyes were deep and purple, with his cheekbones protruding a little more than you remember them to, and his gaze deep and sorrowful. 
but somehow, you could look past all of that because your gaze is caught by something else - the purple and very telling hickey on his neck. he’s clearly made an attempt to cover it up with what you assume is whatever foundation you might have left at their place on the nights that you’re too lazy to come home before work. the attempt isn’t all that successful, given that your foundation is about three hundred shades too dark for his skin (which is as pale as a ghost around this time of year) but you appreciate the effort.
not really.
jeno looks uncharacteristically shy as he stands in the living room, having switched out his shoes for his slippers that he bought specifically for your apartment once him and jaemin started coming over more often. they usually fought over ‘jeno’s’ slippers (they had peaches on them while ‘jaemin’s’ had ducks) but jaemin usually conceded to jeno.
usually, he’d be sprawled out on the sofa with little more than a half-hearted ‘hey’ and bags of chinese takeout on the kitchen counter but you see none of that now. now, he looked like a lost puppy, shuffling awkwardly to stand next to the couch.
it would almost be funny if it weren’t for the fact that the two of you haven’t spoken in a week. or the hickey.
“has it ever occurred to you that we might act like more than friends?” 
the question is sudden, breaking your nostalgia and bringing your train of thought to a screeching halt.
“excuse me?” your voice is calmer than you thought it would be in your head as you spin on your heel to look at jeno in the eye. he licks his lips, a nervous habit that he’d picked up from you, but his eyes don’t shift from yours, decidedly steady. he’s thought this for a while, you realize belatedly. it was just a question of how long and what that really meant.
“i mean you leave your foundation at my place and i buy slippers for yours. i can’t stand olives but when we get pizza, i get olives anyway so that you can pick them off of my slices and eat them. you don’t know your left from right but you still drive forty-five minutes down and back to the bakery to get iced lemon poundcake every time i’m upset.
“i can’t stand it when you meet a decent guy for once in your life and i go off the radar but we - i can’t spend more than a few days away from you. so, i’m always showing up at your apartment with chinese food when the last thing i want to do is hear about you raving about your new date who has a job at amazon and wears real rolex watches while i’m still eating instant ramen and trying to get a grip on life.
“the worst part is that i think i’ve always known. even last night, i was falling into my old pattern of using people to get over you, y/n. in between trying to figure out why i couldn’t click with anyone else besides you and trying to figure out why i feel so empty every time i feel like you’re slipping away from me, i think i figured it out. sure, i hate juyeon because of who he is and what he’s done in the past but i hate him even more because he used to be just like me. and now he’s changed so much and become such a good person. the fact that he’s the bigger, better, older, stronger version of me with his life together freaks me out so much because what if you replace me with him? and then i lose the one person i think i’ve ever properly fallen for and one of my best friends all in one go? and it’s all so selfish but when i have ever tried to hide myself from you, y/n?”
your mind is spinning. jeno is heaving by the end of his rambling. you can’t seem to find your grip on reality. everything is just wrong. it’s all wrong. everything is wrong. what?
jeno lee. playboy extraordinaire. mr. couldn’t be tied down. the boy who came home with a new broken heart in his jar of hearts that he hid deep inside his mind so he wouldn’t have to think of the unintentional consequences of having an unavailable pool of love.
and here he was, standing next to the couch in the living room, looking at you with so much anger, confusion, and sheer love in his eyes that you’re almost upset with yourself that you hadn’t seen it sooner. had he always looked at you like that?
you don’t know what to say though. you can’t even tell if he’s still talking, by the way that the blood is rushing in your head like an unforgiving tsunami has broken loose. you can’t hear anything, much too preoccupied with your own thoughts to even think of listening to his. 
you vaguely register the fact that you and jeno are somehow sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a good entire seat away from each other. that was good, at least. you’re sure that your legs would’ve given out on you at some point if you had remained standing.
“why do you hate juyeon so much?”
the question doesn’t seem to faze him as much as you wished it would. what was it with men and not being stunned by the most random questions or thoughts you can come up with? it somewhat frustrated you that you couldn’t stun them with the same shock factor that they seemed to utilize on you.
jeno sighs, raking a hand through his messy hair as he struggles to come up with the right words to say. or honestly, any non-stupid words.
“juyeon was actually one of the reasons why i came to snu in the first place. he was kind of like my mentor - a guy that i looked up to a lot in high school. he was one of my older friend’s roommate so when i came to check out snu, he toured me around and showed me his entire lifestyle. i was a senior in high school back then and he was just a sophomore but i swear, i’d never clicked with someone that fast before.
“he’s always been super smart and incredibly charming. and back when i met him, as a stupid senior in high school, i thought that everything that he had was what i wanted. he had a new girl at his apartment any time he wanted and always seemed like he had the entire college wrapped around his finger.” jeno gets up, looking frustrated as he starts pacing back and forth between the walls of the living room of the apartment.
“long story short, i caught him making out with my girlfriend at the time over the summer between high school and college. and it all came crashing down. in hindsight, maybe i shouldn’t have hated him nearly as much as i did but the fact that i couldn’t see that he had no qualms of getting with anyone who wanted to get with him hurt me. everything i had idolized came crashing down when i saw the two of them.” 
jeno stops pacing, looking down at his hands, rough and raw from the biting winds outside. “it just - it just hurt y/n. and it made it so incredibly easy to just not believe in love anymore. and then i met you and you came into college looking for the one and it was just so hard not to believe in love. when you said you were going out with juyeon, it took me back to the darkest parts of my past mentally. ridiculous? weak? yeah. i know. but i couldn’t help it.”
“it’s not weak or ridiculous, jeno,” you say gently, finding your voice once more. “i’m just hurt that you didn’t tell me before. i mean, i thought i was your best friend!”
jeno laughs drily, a grating sound that tugs at your heart strings. “but he’s gone clean, y/n. he’s everything that i couldn’t be and so much more. he’s near perfect. i couldn’t stop you from finding ‘the one’ that you’ve been dreaming about since i’ve known you. even if that meant that i finally had to let the past go. even if it meant that i had to give up on being able to love you.”
you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes. “jeno…”
jeno shakes his head, looking at you with watery eyes, dragging his red hands across them roughly. “stop. i don’t need pity. i just…i just wanted clarity. have you always thought of me as a friend? was i making up everything in my head? did - did i imagine that we could’ve had something this whole time?”
you’re at a loss for words. jeno wasn’t wrong. you’d gone to the ends of the earth to make jeno happy. any time he was upset, you’d drop everything to go get that goddamn lemon cake. you couldn’t go more than a week without him. even if the entire world went to shit, you’d always thought that you and jeno would go down together, fighting side by side. if it really came down to choosing between your friends, some part of you knew that you’d always choose jeno before jaemin or jimin.
and some part of you wonders if you’d always had that much affection for him.
“i don’t know,” you say honestly. jeno’s face falls, and an awkward silence falls between the two of you, with his feet pointed to the door and muscles tensed to move. you know that if you don’t come up with the words to say something that’ll convince him to stay, you’ll have given him no reason to. you know he’s going to leave.
no matter what, you cannot lose jeno, you realize. he’s the one part of your life that cannot leave. he’s the person that buys slippers for your house. he’s the boy who can’t stand when he has to compete for your attention. he’s the man who’s shoulder you cry on when your heart suffers even the smallest scratch. 
he’s your jeno.
“i don’t know,” you begin, rushing to continue when you see jeno’s crestfallen expression. “but it’s all so sudden, jeno. you’ve been thinking about your feelings for a long while. i’ve honestly never considered the possibility of - of us being more than friends. of being together. maybe i’ve had feelings for you this whole time without knowing. maybe my ‘one’ has been you this whole time. maybe we’re better off as friends! i don’t know anything.”
jeno’s breath catches as he realizes what the hidden implication in your words is.
“but i’m willing to find out if you are.”
+++
after the enlightening conversation that you’d had with jeno that morning, you’d made plans with him to go on a proper date on wednesday, a day that you had nothing but boring meetings and jeno only had two classes. the two of you had decided to first go on the date and then try to figure out how you felt about each other from there. 
you’d also taken it upon yourself to curve juyeon once and for all. he was a great guy and you were sure that he’d be a great person to whoever he’s meant to be with but after reminding him that you were distinctly uninterested (and apologizing if you’d insinuated that you wanted to see him as an anything after that night), you’d deleted his number and all thoughts of him from your mind.
jaemin had been equally easy to make up with. you understood - after all, jaemin was jeno’s friend first and foremost. even if he didn’t necessarily agree with jeno and his tendencies, being his friend first meant that he had to prioritize jeno and his feelings. he was relieved to hear that jeno had finally grown the balls (verbatim) to confess the painstaking secret that he had been holding onto for the past three years.
“three years? he’s liked me since he met me? and you never said anything, jaemin?” you say incredulously, thanking the barista with a quick smile before grabbing your coffee, rushing to beat the morning sidewalk traffic as you walk to office.
jaemin’s face on your screen is mostly covered by his covers - a sign that he’s either skipping a class (ancient world history) or avoiding some work that he has to do. it was both, but he would concede neither to you.
“it wasn’t my place to say anything,” jaemin says finally, and you finally look at him properly through the little facetime box, watching him drag his hand over his face. he looks as though he’s aged about ten years in the time that you haven’t seen him - which was only a few days ago, technically. 
“and besides, you saw us at the club. did it look like jeno was exercising any type of common sense? clearly not. he wasn’t ready to listen to the truth, no matter who was delivering it. so there was no point in trying to make him to his senses,” jaemin continues, wrapping his blanket around himself a little tighter. “it didn’t help that his coping mechanism thus far has been to just run away from his issues, forget they exist, and then use a distraction to pretend that he was never affected by it in the first place.”
you sigh. this much was obvious to you as well. the day that jeno had come over, that had been one of the first things that you had confronted him about. he had presented a similar explanation then as jaemin was now but even if he didn’t say anything, you knew that was the truth.
“that reminds me - jimin texted me this morning asking if you were okay. have you talked to her since friday night?” jaemin asks and you groan. in all of this mess, you had completely neglected to debrief jimin and fill her in on everything that was happening.
“oh shit, i completely forgot to call her,” you say, swiping into the company building, smiling as you pass a familiar face. “i’ll talk to her tonight.”
“yeah. she seemed kinda worried. apparently juyeon told jaehyun that you two had cut it off for good and told him about you seeing jeno and i at the club. i guess jaehyun went and told jimin,” he says sullenly. you roll your eyes at his dramatics.
“just because you’re the only one getting no action doesn’t mean that you have to be jealous of jimin,” you say.
“no - what? no! it’s not that. i’m single by choice, thank you very much. i could have a hundred girls lining up for me if i wanted,” he says, clearly miffed. you stifle a laugh; it was so easy to rile men up. “but it’s like a violation of bro code. jaehyun knows that jeno doesn’t fuck with juyeon and he also knows that jimin is one of your best friends. like what did he think? that jimin wouldn’t tell jeno and i or that she wouldn’t talk to you about it?”
you blink, completely lost. “i swear to god, i think guys have more complex interpersonal links than girls do. i followed like maybe 20% of what you said.”
jaemin sticks his tongue out at you childishly. “whatever. don’t you have a job to do?”
“don’t you have a class that you’re paying thousands of dollars to take to go to?”
“touché.”
with that, jaemin ends the call but even as you finally sit down in your little glass office, you know that he’s absolutely not going to go to that class. it didn’t help that you’d taken the class last semester and had handed him your notes. at this point, he basically only went to take the tests - after studying your notes for maybe 10 minutes right before.
you’re about to call jaemin again to make sure that he actually gets up to go to class when there’s a knock on the glass of your office.
“y/n? someone’s ordered breakfast for you,” haerin, an underpaid and quite frankly undervalued intern at your office, says. she’s holding a little pastry box and a straw without any coffee. “the person who dropped it off said that he figured you’d already have coffee but you probably forgot the straw.”
you don’t even need to hear the name of your mystery courier boy because you already know who it is.
jeno.
+++
“he brought you breakfast? to your office?” jimin asks incredulously. you had called her soon after haerin had handed you the breakfast (with your favorite pastry inside the box). you seriously needed to hear a girl’s perspective on all of this, even if it was coming from the most romantic person you knew.
“yeah. i mean he’s done it before - like during my first couple of weeks of working, remember how stressed i was? he bought me lunch and dropped it off at the office, back when i was just an intern running around and didn’t have time to go and get it myself.” you blink, looking at jimin worriedly. “that’s not weird, is it?”
jimin ponders for a moment before shaking her head. “i mean you guys were best friends. i’d do it for you. but i don’t know. i feel like guys and girls who are just friends are more like siblings and i feel like girls who are really close are basically like a married couple.”
“why do you and jaemin always say weird shit that confuses me?”
“no - it’s like…like with a truly platonic set of girl and guy friends, they’re always doing sibling-like things. for example, i think i’ve seen you nearly give jaemin a black eye for taking a bite out of your pizza. but if i wanted a bite of your pizza, you’d probably honestly give me the whole slice. i don’t know, but it’s a dynamic that i’ve seen with all of my female friends compared to my guy friends. but you and jeno have never been like that.”
“i have most definitely tried to fight jeno over pizza. i’m sure i’ve fought him over much less, to be honest,” you say and jimin shrugs.
“i’m not here to make you feel one way or another about him. your feelings are yours to figure out. but as an outsider looking in, even if you were to fight him about something stupid like that, it was because that’s how you guys talked to each other. it’s not like you’re actually going to rip that pizza away from him. in the end, if he really wanted it, you’d concede to him. you don’t really do that for siblings. it’s charged in a different way.
“i’d give up my life for my older sister. but if she even looks at me the wrong way, i’m ready to pull out her hair. or my younger brother? he genuinely gets pleasure out of making me have to redo my entire skincare routine because he switched around all of the labels. would he send me breakfast to my office just because? fuck no. would he give me his kidney in a heartbeat? hell yeah.”
jimin looks down before looking up at you once more. “and even if none of that was true, you don’t look at jeno like you look at jaemin.”
this startles you out of your own attempts of running parallels between what jimin was describing and how you and jaemin were or how you and jeno were.
“what do you mean? how do i look at jeno?” you say, your voice coming out shockingly soft and confused.
“you know how you were kicking yourself about not realizing how jeno looks at you? yeah. that’s how i feel looking at you looking at jeno. i didn’t want to say anything to you about it. honestly, mostly because i hated seeing you get down every time he would just disappear from your life. i don’t know that as your friend, i should be encouraging you at all. but he makes you more happy than i’ve seen anyone else make you,” jimin says. “and that’s reason enough for me to be happy for you. to tell you what you don’t realize yourself. even when you dated other people, you always looked at them differently than you looked at jeno.”
“how do i look at jeno, jimin.” it’s not a question and both you and jimin know that you know the answer to what you’re truly asking.
“you look at him like you’re finally ready to love. like you’re realizing again that maybe jeno was the one you’d been waiting for every time.”
+++
your first date with jeno had been a full course of a dumpster fire with a side of natural disaster.
after your (jimin induced) realization that maybe you’d actually had feelings for jeno longer you’d thought, you find yourself going through the day as if you were on autopilot. jeno sends you breakfast on tuesday and wednesday morning as well, although he doesn’t mention a word of it when the two of you are texting.
at least nothing had changed there, thus far. he still sent you those stupid reaction memes that he found on pinterest and never failed to make fun of your typos in the group chat with you, jaemin, jeno, and now jimin. 
you hadn’t seen him since friday night but by the time wednesday rolls around, you wish that you had a little bit more time. you’re still reeling from your newfound enlightenment and some childish, hidden romantic side of you wants to bask in the uncertainty and the almost juvenile way that your heart beats a little faster whenever you think of the date tonight.
the two of you had decided that you were going to try and approach it as a truly romantic date, rather than the quick food runs that you were used to with him. which meant you were going to have to clean up and put on a dress - a sight that you’re sure jeno was truly not used to seeing after so long of you lounging around his apartment in sweats all day.
since this was the first proper date you were going on (you insisted that the date with juyeon didn’t count, since you had only gone with the intention of being a good friend to jimin.) in a good while, you’d called in the big guns for reinforcement. the only reinforcements you had, but that was besides the point.
“i still don’t get why you’re curling your hair. it looks so pretty naturally,” jimin laments, setting down the section of hair that she was working as she moves onto the next.
“i know. it’s kinda silly but i wanna feel cute - like i wanna look feminine and feel cute when i see jeno. it’s stupid and i swear it goes against everything feminism has taught me but i just want to feel and look like my inner girly-girl has been begging me to,” you explain, pouting when you catch jimin laughing through the reflection of the vanity mirror where you were sitting.
“baby, that’s not silly at all. and it doesn’t go against feminism to want to dress up and look cute! reminder: feminism is about empowering other women and helping everyone have the freedom to choose what they want for themselves. whether that’s dressing up cute or being a stay-at-home mom or being a working woman or some combination of all of the above and then some,” jimin says and then there’s a wicked glint in her eyes. “it’s also very feminist to get men to do your bidding, i think. and hey, if you have to put on a little black dress to do that, then i’m all for it.”
“you sound absolutely ridiculous,” you scoff, but a little smile tugs at the corner of your lips anyway. 
“speaking of little black dresses, you’re wearing a matching set underneath, right?” jimin teases. you swat at her with your free hand that wasn’t applying glitter to your inner eye. “i’m holding a hot iron, you psycho!”
“jimin! i’m not going to have sex on the first date. not that i’m above it but jeno is different,” you say and jimin unfortunately catches the underlying longing tone in your words.
“oh he’s different, is he? girl, where having you been hiding all these feelings for so long?” she says and you find yourself not being able to come up with a rebuttal. honestly, you didn’t know how either of you had been so blind to your feelings for each other. and suddenly, a cold rush of fear runs down your spine.
you twist in your chair, ignoring jimin’s protest that she was almost done with your hair. “wait. you don’t think that this is a mistake, right? like what if he thinks that he has feelings for me but it’s been the chase this whole time. or what if we just don’t click like we think we will? what if i lose my friend and the person that i think i’ve liked for longer than i’d like to admit in one go.”
jimin’s expression turns serious at that. “y/n, you’ve only had a week to figure out your feelings. it’s okay if you want to raincheck and then go on the date when you’re more sure of how you feel, if that’s what you want.”
“that’s not what i want. i think that i actually have liked him for longer than i think. it’s just been so hard to realize that because he’s always been with someone and i’ve always been waiting for the one. it just scares me to think that maybe the one that i’ve been looking for is someone who actually doesn’t think that i’m the one, you know? i don’t know if i could live with losing him.” you blink furiously, willing yourself to not let a single tear fall and ruin all of your hard work for the past couple of hours.
“trust me, y/n, if you’re sure about your feelings and if he really is the one, then everything will work out. have a little faith in the universe.” no sooner does jimin say this, the buzzer rings and you and jimin look at each other in panic.
“it’s still 5:50! he said he was coming at 6:00!” you exclaim and jimin rushes to finish your hair. “you have to distract him! i still have to put my dress on!”
“oh my good lord, i forgot about that. okay, you focus on getting ready, i’m running!” jimin says, cursing when she trips over the cord to the curling iron as she’s running to open the door for jeno.
you shimmy out of your pajamas in hurried movements as you hear jimin say that jeno could come up but that the elevator was broken so he’d have to come up by stairs.
“there’s no sign that says the elevator is broken though,” you hear jeno say as you’re caught in one of the legs of your pajamas, shaking it off wildly as jimin tries to come up with a random explanation on why exactly the elevator had no sign.
“yeah, it actually just broke. like right now. like it was so recent that they didn’t have a chance to put a sign up yet. in fact, i bet that we’re in a space-time pocket and time just moves faster for you and slower for people inside. maybe this building is narnia or something,” jimin says. the room is silent for a moment before you hear the sound of the elevator dinging and you wince, your movements no doubt mirrored by jimin.
you can already see jeno’s amused smirk as jimin says that the elevators must’ve been repaired by the aliens in the space-time pocket. but they were living in a speed that was faster than human senses.
you’d seriously have to buy her a drink when this date was over, you think to yourself as you struggle to zip up the back of the dress. you don’t think that you’ve heard jimin pull out that much utter bullshit in one breath before.
you have heard jaemin say something similar before though, so it made sense that jeno was neither fazed nor taking her seriously. not that anyone could take that seriously, anyway. 
you’ve finally managed to contort your body in the right position to zip up the dress when you hear the door open and jeno saying something to jimin.
“i know i’m early. and i know she’s definitely not ready. but i found these earrings in my apartment and i figured that she’d want to wear these. if i know her at all, she’s wearing black and she always says that she loves to wear these earrings with her black outfits.”
you open the door just slightly for jimin to slip into your bedroom and deposit the earrings in your hands. 
“how do i look?” you whisper, waiting for jimin’s reaction with bated breath.
jimin smiles at you and wraps you up in a tight hug, careful not to wrinkle the silky fabric of your dress. 
“like a dream.”
that works for you and you take a deep breath before opening to door to see jeno. it’s just jeno, you remind yourself. and although it’s not just jeno because you don’t know if he’s ever been just jeno to you, the words serve as a good reminder.
he’s jeno. your jeno. not someone to be afraid of. someone who’s seen every side of you and still wants to see more sides.
you walk into the living room, where jeno is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone (tiktok, as you can tell by sounds of football highlights). there’s a bouquet of flowers, gardenias, laying across his lap and he’s clearly cleaned himself well. he’s wearing a black button down and rolled up the sleeves to reveal the tattoo that he’d gotten halfway through freshman year.
it’s a tattoo of jeno’s favorite quote from his favorite movie, chappie. you are made for good.
he introduced you to the movie early into your friendship, and had been thrilled when he realized that you liked as much as he did. in fact, the same quote that he had gotten tattooed on his forearm was the one that you had custom-made for your phone case. huh.
how long had you and jeno been doing things like this? since the very beginning, you balk.
“you look beautiful.” jeno’s voice is low, softer than you remember and your instinct is to counter him and say that you always look beautiful but he looks a little too sweet under the light of skylights for you to find it in yourself to do so. 
“thank you.” you lean closer, eyes crinkling into a smile when you recognize the cologne that jeno was wearing. “is that the cologne i got you in sophomore year?”
jeno nods and smiles with you. “jaemin said that my normal one was too…fuckboy.”
“the sauvage one? hell yeah, it is. i think that most girls have a trauma response to that cologne at this point,” you say, and suddenly everything is so simple again. it’s your jeno, after all.
“it’s a good thing i listened to jaemin, then.”
you cock your head and you’re vaguely sure that he means more than just his cologne choices.
“yeah, i guess it was.”
+++
pretty much everything from there went completely wrong. for one, jeno’s car (which was infamous for coming up with the most random issues at the worst times) had decided to blare with just about every warning known to man almost as soon as the two of you sit in the car. 
by the time that jaemin arrives to where the two of you had pulled over to take the car to the car dealership, jimin offering her car instead, the two of you were already about thirty minutes late to your reservation. 
it had taken a lot of persuasion on jeno’s end to convince the restaurant to let the two of you sit and eat anyway, although you were past half an hour late for your reservation. as if that weren’t enough, the restaurant refused to accommodate for your dietary restrictions (even though they promised that they did on their website!), causing you to only be able to order an overpriced caesar salad with maybe three vegetables and too much vinegar.
then, as you were leaving, you found out that the valet had parked pretty much on the other side of the country. and it was pouring rain. to the extent that your phone had gone off about three times with warnings that there was a flood watch in seoul.
which meant that jeno had had to book it to run to get the car and pull it up to the front of the restaurant, where you were waiting, shivering even with jeno’s jacket around your shoulders. and due to the layout of the restaurant’s front, you were forced to run in the run in the rain anyway to dive into the passenger seat of jimin’s car. 
and yet, even with all of this, you couldn’t help but laugh. the date was perfect. every time something occurred, jeno handled it with ease, allowing you to just turn off your brain and let him take care of everything for you. he would always turn to you with a silly smile and another story of how the two of you always seemed to find yourselves in the most unbelievable situations.
through all of this, you finally understand what you had been thinking that you wanted this whole time in your wait for the one. not someone who made sure that everything was perfect and that the date was always planned out to the t.
no, it was someone who made you feel like you were having a good time, even when everything was going to shit. 
you look at jeno, recounting some story about how jaemin and him had snuck into a wedding once to eat food after days of cooking instant ramen in their dorm in freshman year, laughing so hard that you could barely hear the pelting rain outside. and seeing him smile like that, feeling yourself smile like that, just because you knew that he was smiling, your heart finally felt at ease.
definitely not a platonic type of love, you decide.
“hey, you okay?” jeno asks, eyes trained on the road in front of him as he navigates to your apartment. “you seem kind of checked out.”
you smile, shaking your head. “yeah. i’m all good. i was…i was just thinking about how stupid i’d been to think that i’d been looking everywhere but right in front of me for ‘the one’ when i didn’t even know what i wanted.”
“yeah? what do you want?” jeno says, his grip on the steering wheel growing tighter as he waits nervously for your answer. you look at him and jeno has to fight himself to keep looking at the road when he wants nothing but to look at you and commit this vision of you to memory.
your glinting earrings and your twinkling eyes under the seoul night sky. your drenched dress and jeno’s jacket across your lap. your wet hair that still somehow looked sexy as you flipped it over your shoulder. your soft smile and seeing you finally look at him the way that he’d been looking at you this whole time. he wants to capture it all within his mind and never forget the way you were looking at him now.
“i want someone to make me feel like that even the stupidest situations were easy to overcome when i’m with them,” you say softly. 
jeno pauses at that, heart beating a little too fast to be good for him. a smile tugs at his lips, no matter how stoic he tries to look. “oh? does this mean you think this date was a success?”
“i think this date was an utter flop,” you say drily and jeno rolls his eyes at that. “but i think my date was pretty great. i’m not going to lie, i’m still a little hungry though.”
“i still can’t believe that they gave you a bowl of lettuce and charged like $30 for that,” jeno says, shaking his fist dramatically. “i’m going to write a scathing yelp review.”
“i mean i didn’t have to pay so that yelp review’s all yours,” you say before turning to him with a sly smirk. “aren’t you going to ask what i’m hungry for though?”
“what do you mean? what are you hungry for?” he asks, turning onto your street. 
“ramen. wanna eat ramen and go?”
jeno has to use all of his self-will to keep from hydroplaning as he pulls into your apartment complex. “y/n. you want me to eat ramen and go?”
“yeah. i meant that literally though. you wanna eat ramen and then maybe ramen?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently at him as he parks jimin’s car in your designated parking spot.
“uh, isn’t jimin at your place?” jeno asks, feeling his heart skip a beat when you shake your head no. 
“jaehyun’s apartment is like two complexes down so she just walked over. why? you don’t want to eat ramen with me?” you say, faking a sullen pout. jeno rushes to correct himself, resting his hand on your thigh gently.
“look, y/n, i think that you’re incredibly attractive and i really like you. but that’s - that’s my issue. i like you so much that i don’t want to make you feel like i was trying to get in your pants and then do something that you or i regret. and i know that you’re probably just saying that to get a rise out of me but hear me when i say that i want to take things slow. for your sake, not mine.
“i’ve been thinking about my feelings for so long and i’ve been thinking about how in love with you i am for longer than you might think. to me, sex would kinda just be the next step in taking our relationship to the next level. but i know you. you’ve really only been thinking about this about us for the past week or so. i don’t want to make you feel like you’re obligated to like me if we sleep together. i know that sex isn’t just sex for girls; or maybe it is but isn’t for you, no matter how much you tell me otherwise. and i honestly don’t know where i’m going with any of this but y/n, my feelings for you are true.
“i want to take things slow because if we take that next step, i want it to be when you’re sure. when you’re sure of how you feel for me. maybe i’m not the one for you, y/n. and as much it kills me to say that, it’s a very real possibility. you deserve someone who’d bring down the moon and gift it to you if that’s what you wanted. and i know that i would do that for you. but i need you to believe that too. wholeheartedly. i’ll wait for you for as long as you need. you’re my person, y/n. i’ve waited three years - granted, three very controversial years - for you. i’ll wait three more if that’s what you need.”
you’d said the ramen thing very jokingly, only half-serious about your proposition. but hearing jeno now, you’re happy that you had. you’re not sure that jeno would’ve told you how felt about you and just how deep his feelings ran for you if you hadn’t. he was right, of course. he knew you better than anyone else, after all.
so you kiss him on the cheek good night and open the passenger side door.
you’re about to close the door behind you, ready to bid him goodbye for the night when you lean down to say something to him.
“thank you for waiting for me, jeno.”
+++
turns out, romantic jeno is just like just friends jeno. mostly because you don’t think that you’ve ever truly been just friends. he’s quiet, teases you at any given moment, and listens to you recount even the most boring stories about work.
you went on a couple more dates with all of the formalities before slowly growing more casual with each other once more. neither of you had brought up the topic of physical touch after that night but lately, it was getting harder and harder to find places on jeno’s face to kiss besides his lips.
not to mention that you’d caught jeno’s lingering gaze on your lips (among other things) more and more often. so, just like everything else in your relationship, your first kiss was completely unexpected.
jeno had come over with chinese takeout, since the two of you (honestly, you had made the decision and jeno was just along for the ride) had decided to start the indiana jones franchise together. 
you didn’t know what it was. the tousled hair? the way his arm was casually tugging you into to his side, covering your entire side as you cuddled closer into him? the way he was only a breath away from you? the look in eyes when he tears his eyes away from to look at you with the sweetest gaze?
everything. all of the above. you lean up to peck him swiftly on the lips. 
jeno freezes, eyes going round as his entire face turns bright red. it was hard to think that just two months ago, jeno had been walking around with a girl on either side of him at a frat party, the promise of a good night hidden in his smile when he looks like a deer caught in headlights at the slightest sign of physical touch.
“did - did you just kiss me?” he stutters, and you shrug playfully, looking back the movie in front of you. he shifts you so that you’re facing him, unable to look away as he turns to face you.
“i thought we’re taking it slow?” he asks and you smile coyly.
“a month and a half of dating wasn’t enough to convince you that i actually like you the way that you like me, jeno?”
that’s all jeno needs to hear because no sooner do you say this does jeno dip his head to press his lips to yours, gentle and undemanding. he’s soft and careful, almost as if he were afraid that you were going to disappear if he chased after you too hard.
but you’d been waiting long enough and this was jeno so you pull away from him, a horde of butterflies settling in your stomach when he chases after your lips, eyes still closed, as if he couldn’t bear to part from them.
“jeno, i’m going to do something and you have got to tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” you whisper against his lips softly and jeno nods, opening his eyes so that you can see the look of absolute love and trust in them.
you get up and hook your leg over both of his so that you were effectively sitting on his lap, poised dangerously so that you could part from him at the slightest sign of discomfort. it never comes, though because as soon as you do this, jeno pulls you in closer so that his chest was pressed flush against yours.
“are you sure?” he says, confirming for the last time as you see the last strings of his resolve snap.
“god, jeno, i love you. now please just kiss me.”
his lips are pressed against yours the second the words leave your mouth, a little rougher and more insistent than last time. his arms are wrapped around your back and waist, eyes closed and you lose yourself in the feeling of being so close to him.
needless to say, that night had been a long night.
+++
“i look like an idiot,” your boyfriend complains, checking himself out in the mirror of your vanity anyway. you giggle, pressing a kiss to his temple so that you don’t mess up his make-up, carefully dodging the stray glare that he offers you.
“you look beautiful, jeno. and besides, this is for a good cause, remember?” you remind him as you make sure that your costume looks good as well.
“i don’t remember what me dressing up as a spandex wearing animated character has to do with changing the world, but alright,” jeno grumbles, shifting uncomfortably as his ‘uniform’ seems to cling to all the wrong places.
“you say that now but you and i both know that the moment you see those kids at the hospital, you’re a sucker. tell me you aren’t going to practice your mr. incredible in the car,” you say cheekily, and jeno is unable to refute that. ever since you and him have been dating, you have often dragged him to events such as these.
at first, they were rather simple things, almost as if you were testing the waters with jeno. for example, when the two of you went on a date to a zoo in the beginning of your relationship, you casually mentioned that many zoos that didn’t treat their animals with love and respect.
then, soon after, you asked him to sign a ‘take down unethical zoo practices!’ petition. and then from there, jeno found himself at a protest to rally for the rights of beluga whales. 
not that jeno had anything against whales (he actually came to be quite passionate about the mistreatment of them the more he went to these events), but the fact that you took the world’s issues to be your issues was simultaneously your biggest character flaw and strength.
and he loved you all the more for it.
“you know who you are?” jeno says, swiveling around in the chair to mean mug you. “you’re woo young woo from that one kdrama. and i’m that poor unsuspecting boyfriend who wants to spend time with his girlfriend but ends up at a whale protest anyway. that’s what cute girls like you and her do; you get our attention, make us fall in love, and then ba-bam! you use us as a bodyguard and backpack carrier at protests and rallies!”
you roll your eyes, leaning down so that you were now eye level with jeno, the both of you lovingly aware that the banter between the two of you was not a symbol of actual annoyance but rather, mutual appreciation. you, for having so much empathy. jeno, for being so patient.
your heart swells when jeno looks at you with such loving eyes, trust and admiration swimming behind his façade of annoyance. you lean forward, pressing your lips to his, involuntarily smiling when you feel jeno’s lips curve upwards as well.
he hums softly, pulling you close so that you’re practically sitting on his lap. gentle and strong. a little callous, but only so that the butterflies in your stomach seem to be rebelling against the confines of your stomach, as if they too want to be showered in the love of your kindhearted and wonderful boyfriend.
you want to melt into his embrace, as you usually do whenever you’re near jeno, but your phone buzzes and you sigh, pulling away from your boyfriend reluctantly.
“that’s jaemin. he’s asking, and i quote, ‘what the fuck are you guys doing i’ll whoop your ass if you don’t come soon i hate this fucking gru costume and the kids keep asking where you are’. you think we should get going maybe?” you say, raising your eyebrows at the series (of rather graphic) of emojis that depict you and jeno conveniently being pushed off a cliff.
jeno snorts at his best friend’s antics, his touch lingering on your waist as he leaves to go start the car. he waits for you to finish responding (with a threatening message of your own) before extending his arm without even looking, waiting for the comforting weight of you clinging to his arm as the two of you leave your shared home, walking into the buttery evening.
it truly couldn’t get much better than this.
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wannabeschyulersister · 6 months
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but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day
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“Who’s bright idea was it for us to have the party at our place?” You asked as you took a good look at the mess that was surrounding you.
“Richie. He somehow got out of hosting this year.”
“What a dick.” You joked. Well, kinda.
The staff of The Bear were known to party hard. It was evident by the state of your apartment. Everyone was excited to let loose and ring in the new year together. It had been a hectic couple of months to say the least.
New Year’s was one of your favorite holidays. It was a fresh start to new beginnings. It was also your third new year with Carmen.
“Where should we get started?”
Carmen wrapped his arms around you, “We should just go back to bed.”
“I would love to go back to bed but I can’t in good conscience knowing that we have a wreck here.” You told him as he kissed your cheek.
He groaned playfully and gave you a small squeeze, “I know. I forget that you’re a clean freak.”
“The faster we do this, the quicker we can get back in bed, Berzatto.”
“And what exactly would we do once we’re back in bed?”
“Well, I was thinking….”You leaned in closer and lightly grazed your lips against his. Just as he moved to seal the deal, you tilted your head back, “We can finally start that rewatch of Gilmore Girls.”
Carmen groaned and laughed, “That’s not what I was thinkin’ we should do.”
“Trust me, I know. You gotta get your mind out of the gutter,” you smiled, “Let’s have a game plan. Start in the living room and then finish in the kitchen.”
Carmen grabbed two garbage bags and handed you one. The both of you began picking up trash scattered around the room. You grabbed an empty champagne bottle and placed it in your bag.
“I loved the idea of people taking photos with the Polaroid this year. I’m sure we got some great shots.” You grabbed the stack that was on the floor.
Carmen moved closer to see the photos, “Is that someone’s ass?”
You chuckled, “That’s Richie’s.”
Carmen looked at you puzzled, “How the hell are you able to tell that his bare ass?”
“You can see the scar where Syd stabbed him.” You pointed out.
“Ah, yeah. Still creepy that you knew instantly.” Carmen laughed.
“Trust me, I hate that I knew it instantly too.” You glanced at the rest of the photos that were in the stack. One of Carmen and yourself caught your eye. Tina snapped the photo of the two of you candidly.
It had been close to midnight and Carmen didn’t want to let you out of his grasp before the countdown began. He wanted to savor the last moments of the year with you before ringing in the new one.
“I think we should put this one on the fridge.” You handed the picture to Carmen and it made him smile.
“Yeah, I like this one.”
“I’m glad that everyone felt comfortable here to let loose. Seeing everyone have a fun night after these last few stressful months was really nice.” You said as you grabbed the broom to sweep up some confetti. The glitter on the floor would be a bitch to clean.
“We have some more stressful months coming up,” Carmen added softly, “I hope everyone will be alright at the end of it.”
You knew he was mostly implying himself. The first year of a new restaurant opening was definitely one of the hardest. Trying to stand out from the hundreds and hundreds of already existing establishments was difficult.
Carmen put the stress of the world on his shoulders. You watched and held his hand through it all. There was nowhere else you’d rather be.
“Everyone is in a completely different place than they were when I first met them. I think you guys will be amazing and The Bear is going to be an absolute success.” You kissed his cheek and it made them a little rosy. He was so adorable when he blushed.
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do. I mean look who’s running the place. You and Syd. That’s a dream team if I’ve ever seen one.”
“You’re just gassin’ me up.” Carmen was never good at receiving compliments. That didn’t stop you from giving him dozens of them a day.
“No, I’m not. I’m telling you the truth,” you placed a hand on his chest near his heart, “I’m going to be right beside you through the good and the bad.”
Carmen placed his hand on yours. He didn’t outright say that he needed the reassurance but he was so thankful to get it. It was like you could read his mind.
He would often jump the gun and worry about things prematurely. You were the one to try and keep him grounded in the moment.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” He said softly before kissing you.
“Ditto, Berzatto. You’re stuck with me for life. I don’t ever want to not know you.”
“If I have it my way, you don’t ever have to worry about that happening.”
“Pinky promise?” You held your hand out with your pinky ready to lock with his.
“It’s a promise.”
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steveshairychest · 1 year
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5 years he's been in hiding.
5 miserable years he's had to go by a different name, wear different clothes and tell a different story to everyone he meets. He's been James, Frank, he thinks he even went by Dustin at one point. He's had long hair, short hair, he's been bald. He had a beard for a while and taught music in a small music store, but he shaved it off after a week because all he saw in the mirror was Wayne, his uncle, his family, the man he abandoned.
For 5 years, he's been everyone but Eddie Munson.
The government told him he couldn't be Eddie anymore.
"Eddie Munson is dead." They told him; they even had the death certificate to prove it. "Don't come back to Hawkins. Keep moving. There are still people looking for you." Was the last thing they said to him before dropping him off with a wad of cash in some town he's never been to before.
He'd asked for the date at the front desk of a motel, and they'd told him April 20th. Eddie had crumbled down to his knees and cried, he'd cried so hard the motel clerk asked if she should call someone, asked if he was alright.
"I'm fine." Was his broken reply. He'd taken the key for his room, curled up on the uncomfortable bed, and didn’t move for days. He wasn't alright. He'd been in a government hospital for what he thought was a few days but was actually over a month and then released into the world like some rehabilitated animal. He didn't get to say goodbye to anyone. Fuck, he didn't even know if they all made it out of the upside down. All he knew was that he was alone. And that he couldn't go home. Ever.
He'd eventually gotten over himself and made some kind of life for himself.
It took him a few tries to find something that stuck, something that felt sort of like himself. Every few months, an ungodly amount of money appears in his bank account. The formal bank statement says it's from an estranged relative. Eddie knows it's not. He knows it's the government's way of buying his silence. His expensive rent and struggle to find a job is the only reason he doesn't send it all back to them.
He's lived in his current place for a year now, which is a new record for him, but he's got no friends. Well, he has acquaintances, people he can laugh with every now and then and go out for drinks with, but no one who knows him. No one who knows why he wakes every night screaming, no one who understands why he flinches when the lights in the bar flicker, why he hates the sound of people cracking their knuckles and why his hands shake whenever anyone mentions the scar on his face.
It's late at night when he's covered in sweat and his throat is raw from screaming awake from a nightmare, that he really misses his friends, his family, the people that he went through hell with. He's not allowed to call them, not allowed to send them letters or visit. He's not even allowed to know how Wayne is doing. It hurts. It hurts so much. He can't even look at himself in the mirror anymore because he's aged, and he's slowly starting to look more and more like his uncle.
But his friends are a little harder to escape, it's like parts of them have found him and are trying to haunt him, trying to remind him that he can't be a part of their lives.
Just last week, he walked by a book store and saw a brand new fantasy graphic novel on display in the window, 'written by Mike Wheeler & illustrated by Will Byers' was displayed on the bottom of the cover in gold letters. He's never bought a book so fast in his life. He's read it front to back 3 times already.
He can't even watch the news in peace because they were doing a news story about a small town basketball player who's made it to the big leagues and is winning everyone's hearts with his skills and bright personality. Eddie had cried and wished he'd been there to congratulate Lucas, wished he could have been there to tell him how proud he was.
Even Nancy is haunting him. Her news articles get delivered to his front door every day in the paper and most of the time the articles aren't even sad, but he cries at his small dining table alone, his breakfast cold and his coffee filled with his tears.
He misses his friends. He misses them so much and it's eating him alive. It feels like he's lying on the ground of the upside down all over again, tiny little mouths ripping away at his flesh except this time it's happening from the inside. Each time he's reminded how far away he is from his friends, a small piece of him is eaten away.
He doesn't know how much more he can take.
And then something odd happens. He gets a postcard and it's addressed to him, the real him; Eddie Munson.
The handwriting is hard to read and some words have been crossed out but the name signed at the bottom of the card pulls a sob from Eddie's throat and has him almost crumbling on his doorstep.
I'm sorry I took so long. I'll see you soon.
From Steve Harrington.
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sometimesanalice · 1 year
Text
Bad Idea
Summary: After being deployed, all Bradley wanted was to have a fun night out with his friends and let loose. That is until he sees the woman who broke up with him, who he still isn’t over.  At his bar. With another man. And then he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. 
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader
Warnings: mutual pining, a little angst, smuttt. Minors DNI
Length: 6.3K
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After being deployed for three months, Bradley had been looking forward to getting off that carrier and having a night out with his friends. Having a couple more beers than he should, kicking Hangman’s ass at pool, maybe flirting one of the many tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck.
He wants to let loose a bit. Just for a while. 
The team is scattered around the bar. Some are hovering around the pool table, a few others hogging the dart board. He’s seated at one of the stools around the pool table, half listening to Fanboy recount some of his amusing antics during basic flight training in between lining up his shots, when he feels Phoenix nudge his arm to get his attention.
“Oh shit, is that…” she starts and trails off. 
He turns around in his seat expecting to find some friend from a former squadron or someone they went to TOPGUN with, and instead he sees you. 
The woman that he has spent the last three months trying to get over.
And you’re here in front of him looking entirely too comfortable with another man.
“Is that Zach Collins she’s with?” Phoenix asked pointedly, being decidedly unsubtle as she studies you and your date. 
“Sure looks like it,” he grunts. He lets his eyes linger on you, absorbing the shape of your curves. 
You are just as pretty as ever. The summer had been good to you, all your sun kissed skin was on display in the strappy open back top you were wearing. 
There’s a cluster of freckles on your right shoulder blade, he can’t see them from here, but he remembers their exact placement all the same. 
He feels the low pull in his stomach, not surprised in the least that you still have this effect on him. He wants to trace those straps with his fingers, wants to see if your skin is just as smooth as knew it to be.
You should be here with him.
Collins was fine. 
Bradley had worked with the engineer a few times in the past, and there wasn’t anything wrong with the guy. Except for that one time he asked one of the new female engineers to make the coffee for the team’s weekly debrief, which he was quickly put in his place for.
He was just boring as fuck. 
And apparently somehow lucky enough to have caught your eye.
“Damn, I really liked her,” Phoenix lamented, watching as your date handed you a drink, “What the hell did you do to send her into Collins arms?” 
“Thanks for the support, Nat,” he grumbles, down the rest of his beer in one go. Squeezing the empty glass a little too hard when he sees Collins checking out your ass as you leaned forward to chat with Penny above the noise of the bar. 
“But seriously, Rooster, she was so into you,” she continued as she turned back towards him, looking at him scrutinizingly, “There was no way that she would have been the one to end it with you, so what were you thinking letting her go?”
“Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t just bet on that.” He was regretting downing his beer, he’d need another one if Nat is going to give him the third degree.
“Hold up, she dumped you?” she asks perplexed, her eyebrows pulling together.
“Yup.” The word was flat and hollow even in his own ears.
He’d spent most of his free time during that deployment working off his feelings in the weight room. 
Instead of counting his sets, he was thinking about you and racking his brain trying to figure out what went wrong. Going over the night you broke up with him over and over again. Pushing himself until his arms shook and his legs couldn’t support the added weights. Combing through everything he could think of, only to come up with nothing. 
You hadn’t been dating that long, but you had made him happier than he had felt in a long time. And he thought he had made you happy too.  
He had been so into you.
And now you’re here at the bar he used to bring you to and standing close to Zach fucking Collins instead of being tucked under his arm.
Smiling at Zach fucking Collins instead of grinning at him.
Politely chuckling with Zach fucking Collins instead of unabashedly laughing with him. 
Bradley hated the feeling settling in his stomach as he watched you give Zach fucking Collins your full attention. He can still remember how good it felt to have it directed at him. How warm it made his chest when you turned the full force of your smile on him.
You must feel the intensity of his stare or of his wishful thinking because you turn to scan the bar, and he swears he stops breathing for a second when your eyes snag on his. The smile freezing on your lips as you hold his gaze.
If it wasn’t completely obvious before this, it’s even more clear to him that he is absolutely nowhere near being over you. And with you looking at him now, he doesn’t want to be. 
He can’t quite read the look that’s in your eyes, but it makes his gut twist with longing.
And then Zach fucking Collins is putting his hand on your bare shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. 
All Bradley knows in that moment is that he needs to talk to you right fucking now. That he wants you back.
“I need another beer,” he announces, tapping his knuckles on the table. 
“That seems like a bad idea considering who is currently occupying the bar. How about I go get the next round?” Nat suggested, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Funny you’d say that, since that’s exactly what I was thinking too.”
He had an idea coming together, he couldn’t claim it was a good one, but that wasn’t going to stop him.
“Rooster.”
“Phoenix,” he retorted, “Remember when I covered for you when you were hooking up with that civvy in the barracks? I’m calling in the favor, Nat.”
“Why do I feel like this has the potential to be a bad idea?” she muttered, shaking her head as she slid out of her chair.
As he watches Natasha weave her way through the crowd, he realizes there are a variety of ways this could backfire. But he pushes all those thoughts out of his head when he sees her striking up a conversation with the engineer, providing the distraction he needs to talk with you alone.
He saunters up to the bar, admiring your profile as he gets closer. Raising a hand to flag Penny down as he settles down next to you.
“It’s good to see you, Rooster. It’s been awhile. Another one for you?” Penny asks, and he feels you stiffen next to him. 
“Thanks, Penny. It’s nice to be home. And I’ll take a pint of the Pale Ale too, please.”
Bradley watches as Penny briefly glances at you. He gives her a small nod in confirmation as she grabs the glasses to pour the beers. 
She slides them over giving him an entirely too knowing look before turning to help another patron. 
“How have you been?” he asks as he passes you the beer, noting that your perfume hasn’t changed since he’s been gone.
“I’ve been fine, Rooster,” you say mildly. 
“You look good,” he murmurs softly. 
He’s not surprised when you that, instead choosing to make small talk since your date was conveniently occupied, “So…How long were you away?”
“Three months,” he says leaning a hip against the bar to face you.
He sees as you put it together, that he’s been gone almost as long as you’ve been broken up.
“Well, I’m glad you’re home safe. But you didn’t need to do that,” you say gesturing to the drink.
The one you are nursing is still over half full, but it feels right that he should be the one buying your drinks. 
“What’s one beer between…” he pauses for a moment, letting his gaze playfully rake over you before settling on, “Friends.”
Your eyebrow ticks up pointedly, “My ex probably shouldn’t be buying me a drink when I’m on a date with someone else.”
We don’t have to be.
“Tell me, what’s Collins bringing to the table?” he asks jerking his chin towards the dull engineer. 
He tried to swallow down the flicker of irritation that sparked when he said the other man’s name, but the frustration wells up in his chest.
“Don’t,” you say sharply, your pretty eyes flashing, “You don’t get to act jealous, Rooster. You are the one who wanted to break up with me.”
“What are you talking about?” he presses, feeling his brows knitting together, “You’re the one who broke up with me.” 
“Stop. I may have beat you to it, but I heard you talking to Jake,” your voice had gone tight, and you wouldn’t look at him, “You told him how you wanted to end it, but weren’t sure how to do it. So I did it for you.” 
This conversation was not going the way he hoped it would, and now he was more confused than ever.
“Wait, what?” he asks settling a hand on your waist to turn you towards him. He genuinely had no clue where you’d gotten that from, “I didn’t want to break up.”
“Seriously, Rooster?” Your eyes shoot back to him and he can see your temper flaring there.
Shaking your head at him in frustration, you grab his hand and pull him away from the bar to a quiet corner of the bar. 
He’d be more smug about how you’ve ditched your date for him, if his mind wasn’t all over the place trying to figure out what the hell you were talking about.
“I came out on the patio that night to see if you and Jake wanted another round, and I heard you. ‘I don’t know how to tell her, and we’ve only been together three months. It’s just too much.’ Does that sound familiar?” you questioned, raising your chin at him in a challenge.
Of course, he remembers that night. 
As if he hadn’t played it over and over.  He remembered how withdrawn you had been when he had come back inside with Jake. You ended things with him less than thirty minutes later.
And now he knows why. 
It hadn’t been him. It was a misunderstanding. A conversation taken out of context. The pressure in his chest that had been building up eases.
He can’t erase the last three months, but he can fix this. He needs to fix this.
You look so hurt, and all he wants to do is pull you to his chest. 
“I didn’t want to wait around for you to break my heart, so I made it easy for you and ended it myself instead,” your voice thick.
He is waiting for you to realize that your hand is still in his.
“I wasn’t going to end it,” he promised as he steps closer to you, squeezing your hand, “That night on the patio? I told Jake about my orders, I wanted to ask him how he had navigated the long distance with his girlfriend. I didn’t know how to tell you I was going to be shipped out last minute and gone for basically as long as we had been together.” 
“The deployment you just came back from,” you whisper, as realization dawned on your face.
He nods and searches your eyes, willing you to be back on the same page as him. He hasn’t stopped wanting you, not once since you broke things off with him. 
There is a hopefulness in your eyes for the first time since he approached you at the bar, and he’s encouraged.
And then he sees your face fall.
“I… I should get back to my date,” you mumbled, dropping his hand and looking away from him.
“I wasn’t going to end it,” he repeats firmly, ducking his head trying meet your avoidant gaze.
He needs you to hear him. 
“It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done,” you tell him quietly as you walk back to Collins where he was still wrapped up in whatever small talk Nat had been forcing on him.
“The hell it is,” he says to himself, resolve firm in his chest. 
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You tried to keep up with Zach as he chattered away, you really did. But try as you might you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the propulsion system his team was developing. 
You hadn’t been back to the Hard Deck since you ended things with Bradley.
When Zach had suggested bringing you here, you balked a bit at the thought of running into any of the people you had met and befriended through Bradley. 
At the idea of being known as just his ex. 
At the possibility of seeing him again.
It had been three months, you should be over him. Hearing his name shouldn’t still make your heart stutter in your chest. Seeing him in that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt shouldn’t make you long to take it off of him.
He looked so good tonight. 
You didn’t know how it was possible, but he looks even more broad now than he did before.
Bradley Bradshaw’s baseline is handsome, but tonight it’s been a test to keep yourself from admiring the way the cuff on his shirt hugs his biceps. How the ridges of his abs stand in relief against his undershirt. Did his jeans always grip to his thighs like that?
And god, you feel terrible about thinking about him like that when you’re literally on a date with another man. But not guilty enough to stop yourself from checking him out every chance you got.
And there was no avoiding him, Bradley was everywhere. A constant reminder of just how royally you fucked everything up. 
He was already at the bar when you were planning on getting about her round. 
Hovering near the jukebox when you were about to go feed it some quarters to put a stop to the painful and unending Jason Aldean retrospective. 
Needless to say, your glass remained empty, but thankfully someone changed the music and one of your favorite bands was playing over the speakers. 
It is impossible not to feel his presence, his energy. You swear there are times you feel his heated gaze on you, the sensation of it sending pulses of electricity down your spine. 
He wasn’t going to dump you.
Bradley seemed too good to be true, so when you overheard that conversation you’d let your mind spiral instead of just talking to him. Because what else could he have been talking about other than figuring out how to end things with you?
A deployment apparently. 
He had called and texted afterwards, and you deleted every single attempt without looking. Why didn’t you just talk to him?
And you couldn’t see a way to get back to how things were with him, now that he’d seen you self-destruct in spectacular fashion. 
Why would he want to be with you after you dumped him so casually, like it didn’t mean anything. Like he didn’t mean anything to you. 
God, you were such an idiot. 
Zach had been gone for a few minutes. He went to get another drink for himself, and had apparently forgotten about it since he was engaged in deep conversation with someone you recognized as a member of his team from the introductions earlier in the evening.
You’re startled by a warm hand skimming your shoulder. Surprised when Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, his knee nudging yours as he settles into it like he belongs there. 
“How long have you been seeing him?” he asks, leaning in to your space.
“It’s our third date.”
You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but if this was going to be one of the last times you saw him, you were going to let yourself have this. Even if it was a terrible idea.
“How’d you meet?”
“As one does in the twenty-first century, on an app,” you retort, tapping a couple fingers on your phone that is resting on the table.
Truth be told, you had only installed it after a drunken Girls Night a couple weeks ago. Zach was the first person you’ve been out with since Bradley. And you were quickly learning that he had set the bar high.
“Our story is better,” he rasps, there was an unwavering intensity in way he was looking at you. 
“Well, not everyone gets a meet cute, Rooster,” you sigh resigned. 
“We did.”
You can smell faintest hint of bourbon and bitters on his breath. He told you once it’s usually his liquor of choice when he is in the mood to make some bad decisions. And you briefly wonder whether or not that’s the reason why he is drinking it tonight.
“Yes, we did,” you admit softly.
Bradley Bradshaw had literally knocked you off your feet before he figuratively swept you off of them. 
He had been absolutely mortified when he had accidentally collided with you during a game of dog fight football when you had been walking along the beach after brunch with your friends. He had all but carried you up to the Hard Deck to help clean you up and to make sure you were ok.
Concern turned into flirting, “you’re too pretty for a concussion” he’d told you. While the line was cheesy, the snug denim shorts he was wearing were decidedly not. And then flirting turned into an invitation to meet up later that day where he could properly apologize in the form of a great night out and drinks on him. 
And a couple weeks later you were spending most nights in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets and sandalwood scent. 
You feel instantly warm remembering just how good it felt to have Bradley’s strong body pressed against yours.
“Has he made you come?” 
“Jesus, Bradley!” You shoot straight up in your seat, looking around wide-eyed trying to make sure no one overheard that particular comment. Shocked by his words and the way he seemed to know where your mind had wandered. 
“Do you remember our second date?” he questioned, his voice dropping lower. He’s even closer now.
Of course, you remembered. 
There was no way you could ever forget the way he had worked you with his fingers in his Bronco parked at a scenic viewpoint along the coast. How it felt to writhe on his lap with your dress rucked up your thighs as he rasped dirty praise in your ear. 
You had never moved that quickly with anyone. Had ever felt that much chemistry with anyone. Had never wanted anyone as much as you had wanted him. Had never come as quick with anyone else.
You felt hot all over. With confusion. With longing. 
“Bradley,” you warned, it sounded weak in your own ears.
“I wasn’t going to end it,” he steadfastly tells you again for the third time this evening.
“I heard you the first time,” you snap.
You are entirely too aware of how you fucked everything up. It’s been the only thing on your mind all night since he told you.
“You sure about that?” The irritation in his voice, matching the heat in his eyes, “Then what are you still doing with him?” 
It wasn’t fair for him to toy with you like this. He said it was a beer between friends. He hasn’t said anything that makes you think he would give you a second chance. That door was closed, but it didn’t hurt any less. Not when you were still so into him.
“He’s… nice,” you mutter unconvincingly, fiddling with your coaster.
“Nice?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“Yes, Bradley. Nice.” You can hear how defensive you sound, but somewhere in the back of your mind realize that you’re having a better time arguing with Bradley than you’ve had all night with Zach.
“Baby, Collins is as bland as that gluten free bread you keep trying to trick yourself into liking.”
You can’t control the laugh that escapes you in that moment. 
Surprised that he remembers that about you, almost as if he knew about the sad sandwich you had lamented over during your lunch break earlier in the day. When you promised yourself that you’d stop buying that terribly unsatisfying gluten free bread.
The heated pressure that has been building between the two of you breaks. His eyes soften and the tension leaves his face as the corner of his mouth twitches up in a half smile.
“I missed that sound,” he murmurs, as he traces a thumb along the delicate skin of your wrist. “I thought about it a lot on that carrier. Thought about how much I missed you. Your laugh. Your smile. The sounds you made in my bed.”
Your breath catches in your throat. And for the first time that night you think there might be a chance.
You don’t know, but you’re desperate to find out. Your heart is pounding, as you open your mouth to ask the question-
“Hey, Bradshaw,” Zach interrupts, returning back to the table with a fresh drink in his hand, “I heard you just got back.”
You jerk back, surprised by just how close you and Bradley had gravitated towards each other during the conversation. How had you not noticed that your faces had been scarcely a few inches away from each other?
Bradley’s unwavering gaze is still on you. You can feel him willing you to ask the question that had been on the tip of your tongue, but you barely knew where you stood with him. 
Could barely think around him when he looked at you like that.
“Do you guys know each other?” he asks curiously, glancing between the two of you as Bradley ignores him in favor of staring at you.
“Uhm, yeah. You could say that,” you hedge uncomfortably, trying not to fidget in your seat.
“Biblically,” you hear him huff under his breath, for your ears only.
“Well, the dart board is finally open. How about we play couple rounds?” Zach suggests, settling his hand on your shoulder.  
You can tell by the way Bradley is flexing his jaw that he wants to say more. And you’re dying to throw yourself at him, to ask him if he would ever want to open that door again. 
But you had read him so wrong the first time, you didn’t trust yourself not to get it wrong again.
So you slide off the stool instead, “I’ll see you around, Rooster.”
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Phoenix told him he was watching you with a stalker-like intensity, Bradley argued he was just being observant. 
“And don’t even think about sending me back in to try and distract Collins again. Frankly, I think you owe me a favor now. That guy is painfully boring,” she’d complained.
If you didn’t want him, he hoped you could figure out a way to be friends. Even if you did have history. 
And friends tell each other the truth, like when they’re dating the human equivalent of a rice cake. Or that they should forget about the rice cake completely and come back to him instead.
He noticed when your beer was getting low, and just so casually stationed himself near the bar for another chance to talk to you. But when you didn’t move for a refill, he had to resort to more drastic measures.
It had hurt him to pay for and queue up that terrible country music, but he figured it would be worth it if he could catch you by the jukebox, knowing that you hated this music just as much as he did.
But you when didn’t get up to change it as he expected you to, he’d put on one of your favorite artists instead and made his way back to his friends. Trying to figure out how else he could get you alone to talk. 
Usually he didn’t mind an audience, but tonight he didn’t want anyone else getting in between the two of you.
He thought he would finally have his moment to make you see reason and choose him when Collins had gotten waylaid at the bar, probably talking about math equations or whatever the fuck engineers talked about. 
But that conversation had only left him half hard and entirely desperate for you. And he didn’t feel any closer to getting you back than he had at the beginning of the night.
Having been banished by Jake for being “pathetically sulky”, he was sitting at the bar by himself staring into his untouched Old Fashioned. Which worked just fine for him, he wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone other than you.
Bradley wasn’t ready to be done. 
He could see it in your eyes that you weren’t ready to be done either, but he couldn’t figure out why you were holding back. He thought he had been clear that he still wanted you. 
Now that you knew it had all be a misunderstanding, he’d respect your decision if you didn’t want to be with him. But he needed to hear you say it. To tell him to his face.
You couldn’t actually think that Collins was a good match for you. You deserved so much better than that guy. 
And he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you turning down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he struck with another bad idea. Probably the worst one of the night. 
Shooting up from his seat, he catches up with you in a few long strides. And then recklessly, he is grabbing you by the wrist as he pulls you with him into the Hard Deck’s storage room.
You whirl on him instantly, “Oh my god, Bradley! What the hell?”
He knows he had been toeing the line all night, but now he’s made you angry. 
And it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. The blaze in your eyes, the way your chest is rapidly rising up and down. Even in this dingy, dimly lit room you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
“Sorry, sorry,” he tries to soothe, putting both his hands up. “But you and I both know we weren’t finished talking before Collins-”
“Enough, Bradley. You weren’t going to end it. I get it, I messed up!” you cut him off, putting a hand to your chest, “You’re already so hard to move on from, but I don’t think I can handle anymore of you dangling what could have been in my face. It’s not fair that you won’t let me try, if you don’t want me that way anymore.”
You turn to leave and his heart squeezes in his chest. This can’t be it. He doesn’t want this to be the end.
“Woah, woah, woah,” he desperately reaches out, pulling you against his chest. You tense as he wraps his arms around the front of you, “What gave you that idea? Talk to me. Please.”
It feels right to have you in his arms again. To hold you. And you fit just as perfectly against him as he remembered.
“I feel like you’re giving me mixed signals. You called us friends at the bar, but then you tell me all the ways you thought about me while you were deployed,” you admit quietly, “I don’t know what to think. And I already ruined a good thing, I don’t want to be wrong again.”
He would prove just how serious he was about you in whatever way you wanted. In words. In actions. Or if you wanted him to fuck some sense into you, he’d happily oblige.
Nothing mattered more to him than figuring this out with you. He wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers a second time. 
“Let me be as clear as possible, I don’t want you to move on from me. Because I still want you,” he murmurs, letting his lips skim up your neck to the shell of your ear, “I never stopped wanting you. So if you want me, baby, you’ve got me.”
“As easy as that?” you ask cautiously, almost disbelievingly.
“As easy as that,” he promises.
“Of course I want you, Bradley,” you breathe, as you settle your hand over his where they are wrapped around you, melting into him, “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, not when I still like you so much.”
“Then I’m yours,” he grins, as he nudges your temple with his nose.
He likes the way your name feels in his mouth, as he kisses your neck and whispers your name against the skin there.
“Bradley,” you whisper. 
“Does it feel like I want to be just friends with you?” he asks, pressing himself more firmly against curve of your ass.
“No,” you moan, as you lean your head back against his shoulder, where it belongs.
“You’ve got me,” he murmurs, as he presses line of kisses along shoulder, “Now show me how you want me, baby.”
Taking his left hand, you guide it up to rest against your chest. He can feel how rapidly your heart is beating under his palm, he thinks his is going just as fast. And with the other, you smooth it down the front of your body until its resting low on your stomach.
You squeeze his hands briefly, letting go of them for long enough for you to unbutton to your jeans, before encouraging his right hand to go lower.
Bradley lets his fingers lightly trail over the top of your panties. He groans, recognizing them by feel alone, “Are these the little blue ones I got you?”
“They’re my favorites.” You tell him as you arch into him, trying to get his fingers to go lower still.
“I’m the only one who gets to see these on you,” he growls as he pulls out his hand to yank down your zipper.
“Yes, only you,” you keen, “There hasn’t been anyone else since you. Only wanted you.”
He feels frenzied now as he shoves your tight jeans down to you knees.
He wants you needy and writhing for him. He wants to feel you wet for him. He wants you to come chanting his name. He imagined taking you so many ways when he was on that carrier, he almost can’t believe he gets to have you this way again.
“You’ve got me.”
It’s a promise. It’s a vow.
He thrusts his denim clad knee between your thighs to hold you open as he slides his fingers back into the pretty light blue panties he bought for you.
You cry out when his fingers connect with your clit. He works you there with deliberately slow circles, satisfied by how wet you already are for him.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he says, resting his forehead against your temple. 
“Me too. Missed you so much,” you murmur as you stroke his forearm, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Bradley.”
He shushes you dropping a kiss to the crown of your head, threading the fingers of his free hand between yours, “It’s all good, baby. We’re good.”
It’s not long before you’re trying to grind against his hand, eager for more than what he is giving you. He wants to draw this out, wants to tease you a little longer.
“Please.”
“Please, what?” he lightly prompts. 
“Bradley, it’s been so long,” your breath hitches when he switches up his movements of his fingers, “Please.”
“I know, baby. I promise I’ll get you there. But you’ve got to wait a little longer,” he croons in your ear, adding a bit more pressure, “Not going to let you come on my fingers when you’re still on a date with another man.”
You whine as he rubs his mustache along your neck, he feels the shiver that courses through your body. Smiling to himself that he is the one who is making you feel good, not anyone else. 
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says as he tightens the circles he is rubbing on your clit, “You’re going to tell Collins it isn’t going to work out. Then, we are going straight to the Bronco and you can ride my fingers like you did on our second date. And after you come, I’m going to take you home and show you just how much I’ve missed you.” 
The sweet kisses his is placing on your cheek are in stark contrast to his filthy promises. 
“I already did.”
“Say that again,” he demands, slowing down the movement of his fingers. 
“I already ended it,” you repeat with a whine, as your hips roll against him desperate for the release he is withholding from you.  “Told him I wasn’t over my ex. I just want you, Bradley.” 
The zipper of his jeans is almost painful with how hard he is, but he is too absorbed in the feel of you to bother unzipping himself for a little temporary relief. He’d willingly suffer as long as he got to hear your sweet whimpers and sighs at his hands.
He was yours.
“Did you delete that stupid app?” He didn’t consider himself a possessive man, but you made him greedy for more.
“Been a little busy,” you quip breathlessly, as you reach around to palm him through his jeans.
“I want to watch you delete it as you fuck yourself on my cock,” he grunts into your ear.
“Fuck,” you gasp, “Bradley.” Your hand flies up to the back of his neck, nails biting into the skin there.
You are even wetter now beneath his fingers. 
“Tell me you’re mine.” He wanted to hear it.
“I’m yours,” you pant into his neck, licking a stripe up the tendon there, “I’m yours. Now make me come and take me home.”
“Whatever you want, baby,” he promises with a grin as he redoubles his efforts against your clit. 
There’s no teasing in the way he precisely works you. 
He remembers the way you like to be touched. He knows how you’ll sigh when he rubs you up and down. How you whimper when he alternates the circular caresses against your hypersensitive skin. The way you clench when he glides rough figure-eights over your clit.
“I’m so close.” You’re trembling in his arms now.
“What do you need, baby?” he asks, switching his attentions to the diagonal strokes that always gets you there quickly.
“Just you,” you plead into the crook of his neck, “Just you.” 
You take the hand that’s been guiding the motions of your hips against his fingers, and settle it over your breast. Whining as he thumbs at your hardened nipple.
“You’ve got me, I’m yours,” he rasps softly.
And then you’re shuddering in his arms you fly apart for him. Body shaking with the aftershocks he pulls from you as he softly teases you with one gentle fingertip, as he coos sweet praise against the shell of your ear.
Bradley removes his hand from your now thoroughly ruined panties, and you spin around to wrap your arms around his neck. He tightens his hold on you as you come down, letting one hand make soothing circles on your lower back.
After you’ve caught your breath, you pull him down for a kiss. Your tongue languidly sliding against his. He’s missed having your lips on his.
“Can’t believe I got you off on my fingers before I got my mouth back on you,” he mutters against your mouth.
“I liked it,” you smile.
“Good,” he says as he helps you to pull your pants up, “Because we’ve still got a date with the Bronco and my bed tonight.”
You kiss his cheek as he redoes the top button for you.
“How do I look?” you ask as you try to fix your hair and straighten out your top.
You look like you’ve been fucked.
The smirk on his face must give away his thoughts, because you’re lightly hitting him on the chest with a shy smile before turning towards the door.
“Wait a second,” he pauses you with a hand to your wrist, “Your bow.”
You glance over your shoulder at him curiously.
The flimsy strings of your backless top hand managed to come undone. He skims a finger down the exposed skin, like he had been dying to all night, before retying it for you.
“There. You’re perfect,” he says ducking down to kiss your shoulder before opening the door for you.
He was hoping that the coast would be clear for when the made their escape, and instead he sees Nat leaning against the wall at the end of the hall looking entirely too smug for her own good.
“You owe me a favor,” she says pointing at him, before turning that finger on you, “And you, owe me brunch. Preferably with bottomless mimosas. Because I just saved both your asses from getting caught by Penny. And now I owe Jake a favor. So, you owe me big time.” She gives you both a knowing look before walking away.
You bury your face in his chest laughing.
“I’ll make us some reservations for next week,” you call out to her retreating figure, and Nat throws a thumbs up into the air not breaking her stride. And then you’re looking up at him, “Come on, let’s go. Don’t want to be late for our reservations in the Bronco.”
He grins down at you feeling lighter than he has in months as he leads you out of the bar tucked away under his arm.
Just where he wants you to be. 
Just where you’re supposed to be.
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We’re saying “Yes to the Ex!”
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souliebird · 11 months
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
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When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.
When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can. 
And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger. 
Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.
Usually.  
Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.
You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well. 
That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart. 
Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child. 
You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.
Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things. 
Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it. 
Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen. 
You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal. 
The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then. 
You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone. 
Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"
You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.
You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good. 
You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone. 
You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market. 
About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"
The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"
You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."
She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."
"Okay, sweetie." 
You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her. 
She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little. 
Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.
You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump. 
You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.
It's just Matt. 
You open the door and your breath catches. 
It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way. 
He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway. 
Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob. 
"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up. 
"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass." 
You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect. 
"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level." 
Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."
"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"
Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."
"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it. 
"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.
"I told them. About you. About Minnie."
You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter. 
That's all you want. 
You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady. 
You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"
He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home." 
"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things." 
"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."
You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"
You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"
"I'm hungry!" 
She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler. 
You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"
Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is. 
Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie. 
"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle. 
Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."
Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"
You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.
"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"
You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him. 
You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try. 
Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."
"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises. 
You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down." 
Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one. 
Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"
You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."
Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness. 
This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay. 
Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."
You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."
"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."
The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.
"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks. 
He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it.  Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring. 
You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter. 
Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating. 
You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen. 
Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down. 
One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.
"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing. 
Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.
You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere. 
"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"
The only reply you get is upset screaming. 
"Cover her ears!" 
Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help. 
You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared. 
Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!" 
You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.
Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child. 
You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it." 
Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."
You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently. 
You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back. 
"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine. 
Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you. 
That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out. 
To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I." 
You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more. 
"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?" 
You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.
She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back. 
You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter. 
You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.
Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.
He looks absolutely murderous.
He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.
He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.
"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."
You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.
You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you. 
"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you." 
You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.
Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.
You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down." 
Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it. 
You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."
You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back." 
You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away. 
As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table. 
Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it. 
Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine. 
"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you. 
"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.
"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"
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