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gracieheartspedro · 4 months

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Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life.

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway.

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields.

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours.

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it.

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway.

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all.

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street.

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior.

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so.

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor.

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position.

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed. Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road.

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened.

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field.

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence.

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings.

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you.

A hot cowboy saved your life.

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here.

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine.

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start.

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it.

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal.

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway.

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads.

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card.

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both.

You needed your furniture, after all.

It will be okay, you tell yourself.

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night.

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it.

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy.

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl.

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric.

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color.

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you.

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand.

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way.

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.”

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.”

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole.

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did.

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin.

“You got tons of jokes, huh?”

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile.

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame.

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet.

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you.

He would come over again? To fix your toilet?

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired.

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture.

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do.

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate.

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out.

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled.

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head.

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places.

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture.

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold.

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school.

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.”

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady.

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods.

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken.

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.”

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #cowboy!joel #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #joel x reader

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mxmmyprentiss · 2 months

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I Miss You, I'm Sorry

Summary: Long story short, you survived without her. Her name had become a memory pushed and tucked away in the back of your mind. You locked it and threw away the key. You had stopped yourself from waiting for answers as to why she walked out on you or why she didn’t fight for you ages ago.

Well. Until now. Genre: Angst Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: homophobia, parental abuse (?) Word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

A/N: Hi, guys! I just made a new tumblr account and I'm new to Criminal Minds and I'm still actually just about to start season 4 lol but Emily Prentiss already got a chokehold on me and here I am. English is not my first language so any grammar/spelling/other writing mistakes, I apologize. I also have not written anything in a long, long time. Comments and criticisms are welcome.

(also emily's fbi timeline here might be a little confusing so idk lol)

AO3

Relationships don’t always work out. You have known that fact since you were seven years old as a result of your parents’ divorce. You still remember your mother saying, “Baby, sometimes love doesn’t last. Maybe it’s love for now but it won’t be love forever. Two people can grow apart even when they are together all the time. And that’s what happened with me and your dad. And honey, it’s not your fault, you understand?” And you still remember nodding as if you really understood what was happening.

But just like any other child who knew how it felt to be a product of a broken family, you still felt responsible about it. You could have done more, could have done something to prevent your family from falling apart, or at least could have done anything to stitch your family back together. But as you grow older, you learned that what if’s are only as good as heroin and cocaine combined together - it’s not. It’s lethal.

So even though your parents are still alive, you still considered them as the first ones you have lost. Accepting that has helped you cope with other things you have missed throughout your life..

Pen.

Hair ties.

Bus ticket.

Money.

Your first love.

The last one, unlike the others, was not forgotten, misplaced or stolen. The last one walked out of your life before you even had the chance to tell her you would move mountains and set the world on fire if she asked you to. What once were gentle, careful hands that held your heart are the same hands that crushed it into pieces and may have been impossible to glue it back together no matter how much you tried.

It’s fine though. It was a long time ago. You learned to live with it.

At least that’s what you told your therapist when she asked during one of your sessions.

“Come on, sugarplum.” Penelope Garcia, your roommate, tugged your arm. “It’s just drinks at the bar.”

“I’m already beat, Penny. I’ve had a long shift.”

“Exactly the reason why you need to get out and have fun, doctor. We were both so busy with work and never had fun anymore.”

“We have movie marathons sometimes.”

“Please,” Penelope scoffed. “You fall asleep in the first 30 minutes of every movie.”

You sighed. You didn’t defend yourself because it’s true. Lately, everything feels heavy. And you’re always exhausted to the point of passing out at any furniture you lay your head to.

“I’m sorry, Pen.”

Penelope cups your face and forces you to look at her. She has the most gentle, caring eyes when she wants it to be. Curious and determined, most of the time. “Hey, I’m not saying those aren’t fun, okay? I’m just saying maybe we need a change of environment. Get loose. Have a few drinks and maybe meet some people and dance. That’s all.”

“I don’t know these people,” you said defeatedly.

“And you don’t know your patients either but you’re forced to interact with them anyway.” Penelope squeezed your cheeks before letting go. “They’re my friends as much as you are mine, sweet cheeks. I’ll introduce you to them and who knows. You might end up liking them too.”

There’s no winning against your roommate. So you finally agreed and Penelope pranced to her room to change.

Since tonight seemed to be about changes, you decided to put on a skin tight knee-length blue dress that complimented your curves and skin along with a light denim blazer. You matched it with black printed flats and a purse Penelope gifted you last Christmas.

You and Penelope walked hand in hand to the bar. She told you briefly about everyone’s first names but you’re not sure if you will remember them all as you haven’t seen their faces just yet. Also, Penelope talks too fast when she’s excited and your brain just cannot process it as quickly knowing how tired you are.

You both stopped at the door, scanning the place and saw a booth on the far end of the bar. Penelope waved at the people on the table and everyone happily greeted Penelope. You felt a little at ease that they were all wearing casual clothes and looked a little less scary compared to what they actually do for a living.

“Everyone, this is my roommate, Y/N,” Penelope introduced you to the team. And pointing from left to right, she said, “This is Hotch, Derek, Reid and JJ.” They all waved at you. Reid stood up and shook your hand. He insisted you can call him Spencer and babbled something about an article he read the other day that he remembered because you’re wearing a blue dress. You stared at him, fascinated albeit confused. Derek chuckles and pulls Reid next to him.

“Hey, guys, here’s our dri-”

A pause.

A stare.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or two. Or maybe it stopped for God knows how long.

One of the glasses of beer almost fell out of the raven-haired woman’s hands. Luckily, JJ caught it, looking back and forth between the two of you.

“Emily, you are an angel.” Penelope snatched three glasses out of her friend’s hand. “Y/N, this is Emily.”

It took you a second - or ten - before you reached out your hand for a handshake and forced a smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” Your jaw started to hurt at how tight you’re clenching them but you can’t help it.

She’s here.

Emily took your hand and for a brief second, you felt her squeeze it harder than you would normally do for a handshake. “Emily,” was all she said and sat to Penelope’s right.

Everyone grabbed their drinks. The music at the bar grew loud and they talked even louder to understand each other. Derek and Reid debated about something work-related that you didn’t understand but Derek rolling his eyes at Reid whenever he stated facts amused you. Meanwhile, Penelope showed something to JJ and Emily on her phone and you just hope it’s not something embarrassing because you caught the glance JJ shoots at you and she giggled.

“What are you showing them, Pen?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” she grinned. “I’m just showing them how pretty my best friend is.”

You squint, not believing a word she just said. Your hands were quick to snatch the phone from her hand. “Penelope Garcia!” Even with the dim lighting, your blush was evident. It’s a photo of you sleeping in your kitchen, hugging a stainless pot and holding a wooden spatula. You don’t remember that happening. “When was this and why are you keeping this picture?”

Penelope laughed. “You don’t remember so I’m not going to remind you.”

You immediately deleted it off her phone. “Now it’s gone.”

She raised her eyebrows and let out a chuckle, “You forget I work in tech?”

You mumbled a curse and rolled your eyes, accepting defeat.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s cute.” JJ teased and you could only force a smile in embarrassment.

Out of nowhere, Penelope gulped down her entire drink and stood. “Come on, let’s get dancing! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Everyone followed her. Even Hotch who seems to not like the idea but Derek practically pushed him to the dance floor.

Everyone except Emily.

Her.

And you.

You two were left at the booth, sitting across from each other. Emily was gripping her glass. Hard. You believed she might break it if she didn't relax.

You averted your eyes from Emily. It’s ridiculous to not find anything to stare at other than Emily’s hands.

Emily’s beer.

Emily’s hair.

Emily’s clothes.

Emily’s necklace.

Why is this place full of her?

The place was full and crowded and the music was so loud but the silence between you two? That was louder. Deafening. Unsettling. Awkward.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Emily said, finally managing to look you in the eye again.

Your breath hitched once, twice, before answering, “You too.”

And you meant it. But you didn’t want to.

Oh, but you did.

She chugged her beer and grimaces the second she does. “I … I didn’t know you and Penelope are friends.”

“I didn’t know you and Penelope are co-workers either.” You shrugged. “How long have you been with the FBI?”

“Seven years,” she answered.

Penelope called your name from the dance floor where she was dancing with Morgan. You only gave her a thumbs up to let her know you’re fine and will be staying at the booth.

“You’re staring,” you said and Emily quickly diverted her eyes from you. She decided the floor was a better view instead. You licked your lips to keep yourself from smiling. “It’s okay, you know.”

“What?”

“I said it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“If you want to pretend like we don’t know each other.” But the agonizing tug in your chest claimed otherwise. “I mean, they’re your friends and Pen is your friend as much as she’s mine. She doesn’t have to know. She just brought me here tonight so we could have fun and meet you guys.”

To your surprise, Emily moved to sit next to you. Not really next to you but just close enough to smell her perfume.

Velvety.

Delicious.

Familiar.

You inhaled deeply, composed yourself, and stole Penelope’s second beer.

“How have you been, Y/N?”

The shiver that ran down your spine shouldn’t be there when Emily said your name. It shouldn’t have affected you that much. Or at all. But it did. And you despised it.

“Since you left me? Great.” You laughed quietly, staring at the glass now half empty. “Really great. I … I’m well … a resident doctor …” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just …”

“You didn’t expect to see me, I get it.”

“Yeah.”

There’s the awkward silence again. If it doesn’t stop sooner, you think you might just bang your head against the table just to shift the mood.

“I tried to find you,” Emily spoke again. Her voice was low, you almost miss what she said. “I came back but you weren’t there anymore. Your mom said you already moved to LA with your dad and -”

“I don’t want to do this here, Emily. Please.” You just can’t. You might cause a scene if you keep this up. You’re still torn between crying hysterically or just downright screaming at her face.

But her face. Her stupid, fucking perfect face.

You looked away. You focused on the people dancing specifically at Penelope grinding against Reid who’s only swaying awkwardly. That’s better.

Emily scooted closer to you but not close enough to invade your personal space still. “Do you hate me?”

You wanted to be rude. Tell her what does it look like, bitch? But that’s just not you. You’re not a confrontational woman. You’re an honest woman. And to be honest, you’re feeling a lot.

Instead, you gulped a drink and stared at it for a while, leaving Emily staring at your hand, waiting for an answer that may never come.

It took a few minutes for you to gather the strength to look her in the eyes. Your eyes may have been teary, you’re not sure, but everything else looks blurry and you feel lightheaded. You’re not even drunk yet. You only had two beers, for fuck’s sake.

You missed those eyes. Emily’s kind, loving, gentle, ‘used to see right through you’ eyes.

“You left me,” was all that came out of your mouth.

Emily moved closer to your seat, dark eyes still locked on yours as if asking for permission. “I was scared. I was young, Y/N.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “And I wasn’t? Your mother literally hired a private investigator to threaten me so I would stay away from you! I was 17, Emily! 17!” You hissed. Emily tried to reach out for your hand but you got up quickly and ran to the dance floor, to your friend.

You whispered to Penelope’s ear that you needed to leave immediately to cover an emergency shift at the hospital. She knew better than to argue with you and your work so she let you go and told you not to worry about the tab. She offered to call you an uber but you insisted on walking since the hospital is only a few blocks away.

“Y/N, wait!”

“Emily, not now!” Your strides were getting bigger and you wished you could just fly home instead and get there faster. She grabbed your arm, pulling you to the side. And although it’s already dark outside, Emily can’t miss the way your eyes glisten with tears, staining your cheeks. “Please, Emily, just please.” You didn’t know what you’re actually asking - begging - her. You weakly placed a hand to her stomach and pushed to keep a little distance between the both of you.

Emily took your shivering hand and held it to her chest instead. Her hands were as soft as you remembered them to be. And you hated the fact that you still remember that after so many years. “Please, Y/N, let me just talk to you.”

“What’s there to talk about? We made it this far in life without each other.” You said bitterly.

“But we didn’t want to.” She sighed. “At least, not for me.”

You took a deep breath in. Emily wiped the tears with her thumbs. Then she cupped your face and you couldn’t help but to just feel her for a minute, face settling on her warm hands. You look at her, eyes pleading. “Em, please.”

Emily shuddered at the nickname. You were - are - the only one who could make it sound so soft and loved; make it sound like home. After all this time.

“Emily?” You both looked at the sound of Penelope’s voice. You quickly retracted your hand from Emily’s. “Y/N? You’re still here?”

“I, uh, Emily here just brought me my purse because I forgot.” You lied. Emily swallowed whatever she was about to say. You turned to Emily. “Thanks. I have to go now.”

“Oh, okay.”

You hailed a cab and got out as fast as you can, leaving Emily dumbfounded and Penelope confused as she was intrigued.

___

Emily rubbed her hands together and exhaled loudly. Penelope raised her eyebrow. “What did you do?” She asked.

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“For an FBI agent, you’re a bad liar right now, honey.” She squinted and took a closer look at Emily’s eyes. Teary. “Were you two making out?”

Emily scoffed. “You’re drunk, Garcia.”

“And you’re hiding something, Prentiss.”

“I’m not!” Penelope continued to stare at her suspiciously, pressing the truth out of her. “Okay, I think you should talk to her first. I can’t be the one to tell you if she doesn’t want to.”

“Did you know Y/N before I brought her here? I saw that you two were surprised to see each other a while ago. There was something there. It doesn’t take a profiler to see it.”

Emily paced back and forth, biting her lip, arms crossed. She stopped herself from biting her nails, a habit she may have done when she’s anxious. Emily contemplated whether to tell Penelope everything or something or anything. “God, I think I need something stronger than the drinks in the bar.”

“I’m waiting here, pudding.”

“And I’m thinking here.” She kept her pace. Then stopped. Emily takes a deep breath. “Y/N is … well, she was … is … I think …” she rambled, hands in her pockets. Emily looked up to keep the tears pooling in her eyes from falling. “Garcia, she’s the love of my life.” She stated weakly.

Penelope gaped at Emily like a deer caught in headlights.

___

Penelope arrived home at around 2:30 in the morning. You heard the lock click and footsteps approaching your door. You quickly pulled the covers above your head and pretended to sleep soundly.

“Y/N?” It’s your roommate. She caressed your foot. “I just want to say I’m sorry for bringing you out there tonight. I … I didn’t know you and … her …” Penelope sighed sadly. “We can talk about it when you’re ready or whenever you want or not at all. It’s up to you really. I just want to say I’m sorry.” She gave a light pat to your leg. “Good night, sweetie.”

___

The next morning, you found Penelope sitting in the kitchen having coffee and talking to someone on her laptop. You didn’t interrupt her, suspecting she might be working from home.

You prepared coffee for yourself and sat on the opposite end of the table. You pretended to scroll on your phone … waiting …

“Morning, baby girl,” Penelope finally decided to break the silence.

“Morning, Pen.”

“So …” There it was. You have known her for a long time to know that nothing - not even the strongest of hangover - is stronger than her inquisitiveness. “Want to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m not forcing you, Y/N. I’m just asking if you’re ready because if you’re not, it’s fi -”

“And let you die of curiosity?” You hid your smirk behind your mug. Penelope smiled widely. “Did she tell you about me?”

“Emily?” You roll your eyes as if to say who else? “We haven’t had the chance to talk about our personal lives before but last night, she told me two things actually.”

“Oh?”

“One, that it might be better if I get the dirt from you. And two …” Penelope pauses, grinning. Is she actually pausing for dramatic effect?

“Spit it out, Penny.”

“I’m not sure if you want to know.”

“Just say it.”

“That you were -” Your friend shook her head. “ ARE. You are the love of her life.”

Oh.

There it was again. That tug in your chest. Are you dying? Maybe. You needed to get this checked out one of these days at the hospital, you thought. You might need an ECG or probably a 2D echo.

“Is it true?” Penelope pushed. “How did you two know each other?”

You walked to the living room with your coffee and sat on the couch. Penelope follows you.

“That love of her life part, I’m not sure.” You took a sip of your coffee. Black and bitter. “We met in high school. She was my girlfriend.”

Penelope scooted closer. “What happened?”

“Well, long story short -”

“No, I want the long complete detailed version, love bug.” You rolled your eyes at her and she smacked your arm. “You’ve been holding out on me!”

“Hey! I didn’t know my ex is working with you, okay?”

“Still! Everything really does happen for a reason.” She smiled to herself.

You raised an eyebrow. “And what’s the reason for this then?”

“We’ll see,” Penelope smirked. “Now, go on with the story, girlfriend.”

“We met in high school. She was a transferee. I was, well, an introvert with no friends. She was the new girl. I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.” You see Penelope with a shit-eating grin, nodding her head. “It took a week before I could say a word to her.”

“Because you’re so gay and she’s a pretty girl?” Penelope grinned.

You glared at her. “Because I was an introvert.”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, she missed a class and asked if she wanted my notes and she said yes. We have been friends from then on.”

“Until…?”

“She was the first one to say ‘I love you’, you know?” Tears started pooling in your eyes. You immediately wiped it off with the end of your sweater before it even stained your cheeks. “We were in the locker room. Just the two of us after gym class. It was out of nowhere. We just finished showering -”

“Together?” Penelope gasped scandalously. You swatted her arm and she laughed. “I’m kidding.”

“Anyway, we just finished showering and she said she loved me. You have to understand that it was a time when you know … it’s not accepted nor tolerated to be … us.” Penelope took your hand and squeezed it. She could only sympathize, knowing how cruel and tough the world must be to not let people love who they love. “We hid it for a year, maybe two. I’m really not sure now, I think, but it was the longest time of my life. We were okay, great even. We had the most fun, enjoying each other’s company, sneaking around, going on dates. My mom met her. She liked her. Always asked about her when I get home.” You smile at the memory now but it quickly fades. “Until her mother found out about us.”

“Ambassador Prentiss? Oh, that evil -”

“Her mother sent a P.I. to threaten me so I would stay away from her daughter. I was 17 years old and scared, what else can I do?”

“Oh, honey,” Your friend pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry the world has not been kind to you, sunshine.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

“You two broke up after that?”

You shook your head. “I was about to ask Emily what we should do. I was ready to run away, to hide, to go anywhere with her. I messaged her to meet me at the gym locker room after class the next day but she never showed up at the school at all.” Penelope noticed your trembling hands and gently caressed them. “I found out from the faculty that she moved overseas.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it’s hard for you, honey bun.”

“I just didn’t expect to see her last night … or ever. I stopped myself from looking for her again. Turns out, life has funny comebacks.” You chuckled bitterly. Penelope enveloped you in a tight hug until her phone rings. You giggle, “Work is calling you, badass computer nerd.”

___

When Penelope reached the BAU, Emily was the first one to spot her. She ran towards her, following Penelope to her office.

“Fabulous morning, person who hurt my roommate.” Penelope greeted without looking at Emily to which she replied with an eye roll. “Y/N told me everything.”

“Y/N told you everything about what?” Suddenly the two women stopped on their tracks and turned around. It’s JJ with take-out coffees in one hand and files on the other. “Come on, ladies. Share it with the team.”

“No!” They simultaneously yelled.

“Okay, chill.” JJ handed them each their coffees. “Share it with me. I’ll find out about it anyway.”

Penelope dragged the two women into her lair. Once locked inside, Penelope announced, “Y/N is your ex!”

“Garcia!” Emily hushed her.

JJ’s eyes were wide and almost spitted out her coffee. “I knew there was something!”

“What?” Emily looked genuinely confused.

“Emily, we’re profilers. We see everything.” JJ reminded her. “You were so awkward with her last night. I assume you guys haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“15 years.”

“And it’s still that awkward?” JJ scoffed unbelievably. “Must have been a bad break up.”

“Technically, they didn’t break up but Agent Prentiss here left my friend without saying goodbye.” Penelope squinted her eyes at Emily, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

Emily’s face was almost as red as her blouse now. “I didn’t … I didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you?”

“It’s com-”

A knock interrupted the ladies’ gossip session. “Ladies, Hotch wants us in the briefing room ASAP.” Morgan told them.

“Be right there!” JJ replied. “We’ll continue this later. Over drinks. Just the three of us. Ladies’ night.”

Emily saw no way out of this so she just nodded.

___

It was a terribly bad day at work. The ER was filled with too many people. Patients kept on coming without showing signs of slowing down. Every bed was occupied - some were already in the hallway in wheelchairs - and everyone had something to do. You have not had breakfast or lunch yet. Your cup of coffee left cold at the doctor’s quarters which you’re sure someone threw out already.

Sometimes you wonder why you chose this career instead of just pursuing your love for multimedia arts.

“Doc,” a senior nurse called you. “I have your patient’s labs and ECG right here.” She hands you the chart. “X-ray results are to follow. Let me know if you’ll be requesting more. Bed 5.”

“Okay.” You walked towards the bed, reviewing your patient's chart. Name … age …

Name?

Now the world was playing a prank on you.

“Emily Prentiss?” You call your patient’s name as soon as you draw the curtains. Emily looked up to you, lying on the bed, beaming too much for someone who’s injured. There’s a small stain of blood on her tank top. You felt something stuck in your throat as worry fills your thoughts yet you retain your poker face.

“Y/N?”

“Dr. Y/F/N, resident. I’m,” you cleared your throat. You put down the chart on the bedside table. “I’m here to examine you. Can you tell me what happened?”

Emily adjusted herself on the bed with a grimace. “I got shot. Almost. I was wearing a vest but I think it left a graze.” Emily lifted her top to show you. You don your gloves and inspect the wound closely, pressing softly at the area. You suspect she might have taken more than one close hit from the way the graze looked. Your eyes panned to her eyes staring at your hands.

“Did you get hit elsewhere, Agent?”

“No,” Emily shook her head. But your eyes found fresh bruises on both of her arms. “It’s fine, doesn’t hurt.”

“You’re always a tough cookie, agent?”

“I have to be.”

“Of course.” You assessed the rest of her body, especially her head for any bumps or cuts. Apart from the bullet graze on her chest and the bruises on her arms, you didn’t find anything else worthy of concern or emergency so far. “Do you feel anything else? Any pain?”

Emily had many answers to that but she bit her tongue. It’s not the time and place. She shook her head instead.

“Okay, I’ll get someone to clean and dress your wound. I’ll order an intravenous painkiller. It will take care of the first six hours, at least, but I’ll also prescribe you some oral painkillers and have your home care instructions ready. Do you have someone I can talk to?”

“I, uh, I think JJ is around somewhere. Or Reid.”

“Any relatives?”

“They’re all I have.” There was a small pause. “We take care of each other.”

“Yeah, of course. Part of the job.” You wrote your initial reports on her chart before leaving. “So, uh … I’ll call the nurse.” You turned around but Emily grabbed the end of your coat. “Anything else, Agent Prentiss?”

“Can you, if it’s not too much to ask, can you do the IV thing? I just …”

“You hate needles.” I know.

She nodded. “Please?”

Fuck. How can you say no when she’s looking at you with those eyes? Dark, pleading and consuming.

You can lie and tell her you have other patients to attend to but so far, no nurse had called you yet. You hear another resident had come in, too.

Emily’s eyes and hand were still on you.

“Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll be right back.”

Just your dumb, stupid luck.

___

Your shift ended at around 10pm but it’s almost midnight when you got out of the hospital. You already changed your top into a purple t-shirt. You carried your bags, coat hanging on your arm, as you walked to your car. You couldn’t wait to go home and wash off the busy day you had.

You stopped by to take out Chinese food for you and Penelope and a little extra to reheat tomorrow for breakfast.

You heard the TV as you approached the door. Penelope must still be awake and watching a show. You opened the door with your keys and to your surprise, one of your patients today was sitting on your couch. Your eyes met briefly.

“Hey, sweetie pie!” Penelope cornered you and grabbed hold of the take-outs. “Let me talk to you for a minute.” Penelope excused herself and you, dragging you to the kitchen. “I’m sorry Emily’s here but somebody’s got to take care of her and she lives alone. I figured since you’re here and you’re a doctor, this will be the safest choice. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No.” Your roommate grinned widely.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Then it’s fine. I’m going to my room. I had a long day.”

“But aren’t you going to eat? You can watch TV with us.”

“I lost my appetite.” You mumbled. You walked to your room and Emily caught you on the way. She stopped in front of you. “What?”

“I’m sorry for staying. The team insisted and -”

“It’s fine, Agent Prentiss.”

Emily frowned. “You don’t have to be so formal.”

“I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay, sorry,” She stepped to the side and you walked past her. “Y/N?” You looked back at her. “Thank you for today.”

You flashed her a small smile.

___

You woke up the next morning to a loud scream. You quickly got up and ran to the living room. Your hair still disheveled and pajama pants hanging a little low.

“Is there a fire?” You asked, confused and half awake.

“Sorry for waking you, sunshine. But I cannot do this.” Penelope handed you a gauze, medical tape and scissors. “Help us, oh sweet lord of ER.”

You yawned then sat next to Emily. You disinfected your hands with alcohol and proceeded to clean her wound with povidone-iodine. She winces a little. “Hurts?”

“A little.”

“Well, it’s supposed to.”

“Wow, aren’t you grumpy in the morning.” Emily teased, earning a glare from you and a slightly painful poke. “Ow! Hey, be gentle please. I’m already hurt.” She pouted.

“You have a dangerous job. Couldn’t you be more careful?” You retorted, annoyed.

“Well, I’m sorry the UnSub has a gun and tried to kill me.”

You ignored her mumbling. “Do you have the day off?”

“Hotch gave me the week off.” Emily answered, clearly disappointed. “I can’t believe my doctor suggested a week's rest. It’s not even that bad, right?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks. “And you know better than your doctor?”

Emily smiled. “I guess not.”

You finished cleaning up her wound and changing the dressing. You picked up an ice pack from the fridge and handed it to her. “Ice your bruises. No more than 15 minutes at a time.”

“Yes, doc.”

“Don’t call me doc.”

“You’re a doctor.”

“We’re not in the hospital.”

Emily leaned forward, a little too close to your face. “What should I call you then?”

Up close, you noticed her lower lip has a small cut while her upper lip … well, there’s nothing wrong with it.

You tried not to focus too much on her lips. Tried is the keyword.

Then, you suddenly felt like your ghost floated above you and gave the back of your head a cold hard slap. Your eyes quickly darted up to her own brown orbs, intently staring back at you.

“I’d rather you not call me anything at all.” You said firmly and got up. Emily watched you march back to your room. A small smirk formed on Emily’s face.

You lied on your bed. Heart pounding, head somewhat dizzy, cheeks flushed.

Fuck Emily Prentiss and her stupid, stupid, tempting lips.

___

The three of you ended up watching your second classic film one afternoon with Penelope sitting between you and Emily. You didn’t like the movie that much honestly. You walked to the kitchen to make yourself your favorite drink - soda with vanilla ice cream.

“You still like that huh?” Emily sneaked up behind you. “It’s diabetes in a glass.”

“Guilty.” You took a sip. “It’s my comfort drink.”

“It sure is.”

“What do you need? Ice?”

“You, actually.”

“Why? Something hurts?”

“Nothing you can heal.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I, Y/N.” Emily stepped closer to you. “I was wondering if we can finally have a talk.”

“We’re watching a movie.”

“Penelope’s just fine.” You both glanced at Penelope who turned her head back to the TV at breakneck speed.

“She put you up to this huh?” You took a seat and you gestured to Emily to do the same. There’s no use avoiding ‘the talk’ anyway as it looks like Emily might live here for the whole week whether you liked it or not. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“Us?”

Emily ran her hands through her hair, not knowing where to start. “I didn’t want to leave.”

Fifteen years.

It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Emily. Both of you were still kids - young, innocent, carefree, hopeful. The day Emily left your life, you were a wreck. You did good at school, acing exams after exams, and eventually got to medical school on partial scholarship. Outside, you tried to be the perfect little golden daughter your parents and teachers expected you to be. Inside? You were empty. You felt as if you’re a shallow case of a person.

The first five years since Emily left, you graduated from high school. You got multiple part time jobs before applying to universities. In between those busy times, you tried to find her - called her up on her phone every single day for three years, wrote letters to her last known address every month for two years. Once, you even tried to sneak into their house but the security guard spotted you and almost caught you. You almost had a bald spot from the security grabbing your hair.

By the sixth year since Emily had gone, you stopped. You realized it’s not healthy anymore. You were holding on to a ghost. So you learned to live the next years of your life without her. After finishing your degree in biochemistry, you moved to LA with your father. You got yourself into UCLA and pursued medicine.

The med school journey wasn’t a smooth ride at all. Yes, you didn’t fail one subject during med school but the harder part came later - the actual practice. You struggled with a lot of things but mostly socializing with different people - strangers - whose life depended on you and your capabilities.

It was only five years ago that you finally started to feel somewhat confident with yourself. Not perfect but you weren’t getting yelled at as much by the attendings anymore. A senior resident even complimented your improvement which meant a lot to you.

Long story short, you survived without her.

Her name had become a memory pushed and tucked away in the back of your mind. You locked it and threw away the key. You had stopped yourself from waiting for answers as to why she walked out on you or why she didn’t fight for you ages ago.

Well.

Until now.

“Y/N,” Emily placed her hand on top of yours and you were quick to retract it. It was a reflex at this point. “Sorry.” She kept her hands under the table. “I know apologizing won’t erase anything that happened to us but I’m really sorry, love.”

“Don’t call me that.” You clenched your jaw. “Just tell me why.”

“She, my mother … she took me to the Middle East when she found out about us. I should have known, I should have seen, that we were being followed by her men every time we went out. She tossed the photos - our photos - to my face. She called me disgusting and immoral and a fucking disappointment all because I loved you.” The last part came out as a mumble but you caught it.

Your eyebrows relaxed, eyes softened. The waterworks in your eyes were threatening to fall again. Damn it.

How would a 17-year-old expect this from her own mother? How was she supposed to know?

“She had all your information and your family’s and I was so afraid that she would come for you.” Emily continued, now looking down at her hands, trembling in fear and probably embarrassment of being vulnerable and open. “I knew she would come for you. She told me so. I will set that girl straight if that’s what it takes, that’s what she said. And you have no idea how that sentence scarred me until now.” Emily takes a deep shuddering breath. “The thought of you being hurt because of me … us … I couldn’t bear that, Y/N. I had to protect you so I made her swear to leave you alone and in exchange I will follow whatever she wanted me to do, whatever she wanted me to be.” Emily glanced back up to you, eyes defenseless and face flushed. “I just want you alive and safe.”

“Emily …”

“You don’t have to forgive me now or ever if you don’t want to. Or if you can’t. That’s okay. I can live with that … I think.” Your ex-girlfriend sat up straight, faked a smile. “But I want you to know that when I got to the Bureau, I did look for you.”

Your eyes met. And from what Penelope was seeing from the living room, everything was evident: the longing, the pain, the memories.

“I found out you got into med school in LA. I was so happy for you, you know that. I knew you would make it. I remember you wanted to be a surgeon at first but then you said you liked kids so maybe pedia -”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I couldn’t … I wanted to, Y/N. I have wanted so badly for years. But when I remember about what I put you through, what my mother put you -”

“Us,” you corrected. “What your mother put us through.”

Emily nodded. “I just couldn’t ruin your life like that again.”

“Do you still talk to her? Your mother.”

“Not anymore. We haven’t been in contact since the last case she brought to the FBI.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Can’t miss someone you don’t know.”

You gave her a sad smile. “You’re strong, Emily.”

“Sometimes I think it’s a curse.”

“It will take some time,” you mumbled. Emily stared at you, waiting for what you meant. “Forgiving you, I mean.”

“I know. You don’t have to.”

“But I understand, Emily. I understand now.”

You shared a friendly smile. You leaned forward to wipe the tear from Emily’s cheek.

Emily held your wrist, feeling your hand on her cheek. You two stayed like that for a few seconds. You were the first one to let go but before going, you left a tender kiss on her forehead to which Emily closed her eyes, feeling your lips against her skin for the first time in a long time.

The moment was almost ruined when you and Emily heard a shriek from the living room and saw Penelope stuffing her mouth with ice cream. Clearly, she saw everything.

You and Emily chuckled.

“Em,” you softly whispered. “I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Sorry the world wasn’t kind. To you. To us.”

Emily frowned. “It’s not your fault.”

None of this was your fault or Emily’s as it turns out. Now that everything was out in the open, a blossoming hope grew in your heart as you looked at Emily. All the sadness, anger and pain you felt the first time you laid eyes on her at the bar, you felt that diffusing quickly.

Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

To just kiss her. Just once. Again.

Or hug her.

You don’t know. All you know is that you missed her. And although she looked much older than you remembered her to be - so are you - you still remembered looking at her eyes all those years ago. At the locker room. During classes. At the carnival. At the mall. In your childhood room. The street two blocks away from her house.

Emily stood up, eye level with yours, as if she read your mind. She leaned forward. Your lips now close to hers that you can feel her take a breath. She waited for you to pull away or to ran to your room but you didn’t. The next thing you know was Emily closing the gap between both of your lips.

The kiss was soft. Like the first time when you were two young girls at the locker room the first time she told you that she loves you. Yet, it was also intoxicating, exciting. You felt a jolt of electricity running through your whole body.

The kiss was also quick. It was done before you know it.

Emily flashed a smile. “I’d like to do that again.”

“Me too,” You mentally kicked yourself at how quick you responded to that.

“Let me take you out on a date sometime.”

How can you say no to her?

The answer is you don’t.

“I’d like that, Em.”

“Friday? 10pm? I’ll pick you up?”

“It’s like you know my work schedule.”

“Lucky guess,” Emily smirked. “Let’s go before Penelope dies of excitement. She’s literally red and might combust.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here if she codes.” You share a laugh.

You couldn’t wait for Friday to come.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss #paget brewster x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #jaye writes #emily prentiss x female reader

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psychedelic-ink · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 4.2k

chapter summary: Summer break is finally here, meaning it's time to pick the annual vacation spot for the Miller's, only this time you also have a say in where to go. Later that night Joel makes you a promise.

warnings: none, just some fluff and family dynamics, mention of parent abandonment (sarah's mom leaving), mention of an unplanned pregnancy (again, sarah's mom)

a/n: yes there is a modern family reference in this. a heavy one at that because that show has been engraved in my brain from rewatching it over and over this year

special thanks to @undercoverpena for cheering me on and to all the lovely readers who continue on joining in for the ride. ily all xx

Chapter Twelve || Chapter Fourteen

“I don’t understand. Sarah never in her life hurt anythin’. She hates it when I watch action movies and always calls me a caveman for it. How the hell is she gettin’ into a fight with some girl?”

He’s spiraling. That’s the easiest way to put it. His body is humming with worry, the light in the school hall burning his eyes. Sarah, his perfect little girl getting into trouble—

Surely it was self-defense.

He paces back and forth, then angrily looks at the door. Why is this taking so long? Why isn’t he already in there, learning what the hell happened?

“Take a breath, Joel.”

His head snaps towards the source of the voice, his heart easing a bit but not entirely calmed down yet. You offer him a kind smile, patting the seat next to you for him to join you. Joel shakes his head almost violently. “I can’t,” he sighs. “I need to know what the hell happened. I need to know if she’s alright.”

“She’s in class, she’s alright,” you swiftly get up from your sweet and cradle his cheeks. He wants to look away. He’s still not used to being this vulnerable, this open. “I need you to calm down before we go in, okay? Don’t go on wreaking havoc without us learning what happened.”

Joel grimaces, his brows furrowing, he holds your wrists and tugs your hands down. He sees a moment of hurt reflected in your eyes but is quick to appease those worries by pressing his lips against your cheek. He’s glad you’re here. Truly. But he’s also worried about Sarah. She might be in class, however, that doesn’t mean that she was hurt in some other way. He lets out another breath and looks at the door. If looks could kill the wooden furniture would be dead by now.

He’s in the middle of leaning in for a proper kiss when the door finally opens. Both of them jolt, turning towards the interruption. Joel recognizes the woman on the other side. She has straight black hair that’s in a neat ponytail and thick glasses perched above her nose. Joel remembers her vaguely from Sarah talking about school... Ms. Pritchett, if he's not mistaken. He doesn't remember her first name. She’s young, maybe closer to your age rather than his. He gives the teacher a pointed look, to which she answers with a kind smile.

“Mr Miller, welcome,” her gaze shifts to you “And…”

You quickly offer her your name, flustered, as much as Joel can tell. He's a bit ashamed to admit it but at that point, he doesn't really care to figure out why you're suddenly tripping over your words. Joel turns to the teacher, his shoulders squared and tense. “You called about Sarah gettin' in a fight?”

“Ah, yes. Please, come in.”

He feels the brush of your fingers against the small of his back, a soothing touch and a quick one at that. He wishes your touch would linger, that your body would drape over his like a soothing velvety blanket. Sadly, he can't have that. At least, not now. You sit across from him and Ms Pritchett takes her seat behind the large wooden desk. Joel appreciates the craftsmanship of it. The way the wood feels smooth and new under his touch, polished to perfection, reminding him of something Tommy would make in his spare time. His eyes then linger on the nameplate right in front of him, Lily Pritchett. Now he knows the name of Sarah's teacher.

Miss Pritchett laces her fingers on top of the desk, her sharp eyes fixed on Joel’s. He suddenly feels very exposed. Like this woman can see every mistake he’s made since the day he was born. Her smile isn’t soothing. Nor is the slight tilt of her head to make her seem whatever she’s about to say isn’t a big deal. But it is. He knows it is. He’s a single dad, no mom in the picture to help him out, and day by day those shortcomings are becoming more prominent in their lives.

“Has Sarah told you about why she’s been having trouble at school?”

The question is like a knife to the gut. It’s being twisted and pressed in deeper. He can feel your gaze on him but he refuses to look back. His heart skips a beat, then another. Why the fuck is he having trouble breathing?

“Her grades are high,” he manages to choke out between gritted teeth. “I ain’t aware of any trouble she’s been havin’.”

“I’m not talking about grades Mr. Miller. In that aspect, she’s excelling. But she seems to be having trouble fitting in—”

“She has friends.”

Miss Pritchett smiles again, albeit it looks more forced this time. As if Joel is working her last nerve, “She does. But those girls are in a grade higher.” she sighs and twirls her thumbs over one another. “I had a similar problem when I was her age. The thing is yesterday the girls were getting ready for gym class and started teasing each other by snapping each other’s bra straps.” Joel’s mouth goes dry. He’s definitely out of his element. He holds his breath and waits for the teacher to continue, he feels your hand on the slope of his knee. “But Sarah didn’t have one and the other girls started teasing her.”

“Why the hell are you talkin’ to us then?” Joel glowers and Miss Pritchett's mouth snaps shut. “Seems to me that my girl is the victim. Where are the parents of the others?”

“Mr. Miller. . .”

“No. I ain’t lettin’ her take the blame that was clearly some other kid’s fault!” his voice raises, his blood pumping faster, warmer. “You here blamin’ Sarah when she was clearly gettin’ bullied under your watch—”

“Sarah tackled one of the girls.”

Now it’s Joel’s turn to snap his mouth shut. Miss Pritchett's gaze turns sympathetic and you stiffen next to him, your fingers tightening around his knee. He shuffles in his seat and raises a brow, “Pardon?”

“Some words were exchanged about Sarah’s mother abandoning her and Sarah tackled the other student to the ground. Things didn’t escalate—When Miss Crest came in Sarah was just holding her down.”

“What did they say?” he growls, anger simmering right under the skin.

He hates feeling like this. So out of control. Hates that her daughter is being targeted for something that was out of his and her’s control.

“Her mother left us when she was young. A goddamn baby. Are you meanin’ to tell me that these kids are so undisciplined that they’ve been bullyin’ my girl for somethin’ that ain’t her fault?”

“The girl who said it, Kimberly,” Miss Pritchett sighs softly when Joel fixes her another glare. A warning that she’s seen too many times from overprotective parents. “She apologized later on and the two have been talking a bit in class.”

“I don’t care if she apologized—”

“Joel. . .” He finally turns to look at you. You say his name not as a warning, but more as an anchor grounding him to the moment. He’s breathing heavily. His body wrung out and ready to collapse. He takes a deep breath. In and out. He allows you to say what you want to say, what he’s too stuck in his own head to ask. Your gaze shifts from him to Miss Pritchett. “What should we do?”

“Try to talk to her. If her mother left when she was young, like you said,” she gestures towards Joel. “She might’ve not fully registered what happened. Or what it means to not have a mother and only now she might be realizing it. As for the other situation, it might be good to get her a training bra for now.”

A training bra, what does that even mean? It’s like he’s drowning, everyone saying things he just can’t understand.

“The girls reconciled but I just wanted to get a chance to talk to you, Mr. Miller, before summer break starts.”

God, they still have to pick out the annual vacation spot, “I appreciate it,” he mutters, not really looking at anyone in particular. He gets up from his seat and so do you and Miss Pritchett. She extends a hand and he takes it.

“Feel free to call if you have any other questions,” she says. “Sarah is a good girl and has a bright future. This is just a little bump in the road.”

And for the first time since he entered the office, Joel smiles. She does have a bright future. She’s the most amazing girl she knows.

“Thank you.”

The sky is crystal clear not a cloud in the sky. Joel hates it. And not just because he’s in a sour mood but because there’s nothing he can stare at in the sky. Nothing to distract him. They’re waiting for the final bell to ring so they can get Sarah and go home together. Tommy is supposed to pick them up.

“You have to calm down,” you say, walking up to him enough to leave a friendly distance in between. Joel is tired of keeping you a secret. He wants to feel the softness of your body against his own, want to feel your breath on his skin as you speak. “I can go with her and get her a training bra. But you need to be the one to talk to her.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You think I don’t know that?”

“I. . .I know you do. But let’s be honest you’re not exactly the most talkative. We’ve been together for a while and been living side by side for even longer—I still have no clue about Sarah’s mother or what her name is.”

“Her name is Jessica,” he deadpans. Then with a sigh, he drags his palm down his face. “It’s hard for me. I don’t really have answers, sweetheart. She just up and left one day. She must’ve planned it because it was right after when we switched to formula.”

“Did Sarah ever ask about her before?”

“Once. When she was little.”

“And?”

His cheeks burn with frustration and he stammers of his words, “I don’t know. I don’t remember, she was really young so I think I made up somethin’ about her having a job far away or somethin’.”

Joel groans and looks up to the sky. He watches the blank blue sky. How fucking boring.

Your touch on his cheek brings him back down, your smile a balm to his soul, “Just talk to her. Ask her if she has any questions and be honest. She’s a smart girl. I’m certain she’ll understand that you’ve been hurting too.”

Joel leans into the curve of your palm. A grateful smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You’re too good for him. That much he knows. You’re everything.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” his heart melts between the bones of his ribcage. “I lo—”

The sudden sound of the bell makes you both jerk away from one another. Joel’s eyes land on your face, you look horrified and panting with parted lips. He can’t help the burst of laughter that drops from his mouth as he places a hand on the top of your head.

“So jumpy,” he mutters, and as he does his eyes catch sight of a bubbly girl with beautiful brown curls. “And there’s Sarah.”

He might be imagining it but Joel swears you frown when he removes his hand from your head. Before Sarah comes over, he gives you a quick pinch on your waist and your smile is back.

“Hey there baby girl,” he says. “How was school?”

Sarah’s eyes flit between you and himself, “It was fine. . . Am I in trouble?”

“Not at all.” Sarah looks skeptical but accepts his father’s words for now. Just as she opens her mouth, a loud familiar honk interrupts. The three of them turn towards the song along with a couple of children and families.

“Whoops.” Joel can vaguely hear Tommy say as he jumps out of the truck. He makes his way towards them with quick steps, only slowing when his gaze lands on you. Joel hates the way his chest puffs up like a rooster at that. He doesn’t like the sudden kicked-puppy look Tommy is giving you. As if you’ve betrayed him in any way. . . He runs a hurried hand over his jaw. If anything all of this is Joel’s fault and not yours. He refuses to let anyone think otherwise.

“I thought the teacher called you?” Tommy asks, gesturing with his head to Joel. His gaze swiftly moves back to you. “What are you doin’ here, sweetheart?”

The endearment rolls off his tongue a bit too rough, which rubs Joel the wrong way. Joel watches you shift from one foot to the other, looking like a deer in headlights. “I asked her to come,” he steps up. “I was worried.”

Tommy’s eyes soften and Joel’s heart threatens to shatter. He knows his brother cares about him. It hurts especially when he shows his emotions so easily, the complete opposite of Joel, he’s like an open book.

The younger Miller holds Sarah’s shoulder and pulls her close, “You a’right? Anyone givin’ you trouble?”

“No, Uncle Tommy. It was more like I was the one causing trouble.”

All of them start towards the truck and as they do Joel doesn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes light up at what she said.

“The perfect student finally getting her hands dirty? Now I’d pay good money to see that—”

“Tommy.”

“But I wouldn’t obviously,” Tommy clarifies, ignoring Joel’s warning. He leans into Sarah’s ear. “Did you get them good, baby?”

Sarah smiles and Joel realizes he would let her get away with murder if he must.

“I did.”

“That’s my girl.”

You and Sarah sit in the back while Joel sits in the passenger seat and Tommy gets behind the wheel. An uncomfortable silence surrounds them. The car starts moving and Joel turns a bit, looking between both you and Sarah. You’re looking out the window, your forehead smushed against the glass and Sarah is pretty much doing the same thing excluding the smushed forehead part. He sighs and turns back. Tommy is also tense which Joel can tell by the way he holds the wheel. He can’t really blame him. If you coming along with Joel wasn’t a tell of some sort he doesn’t know what is.

“So,” Joel says loudly, cutting the silence in two. “We might as well plan the family trip while we’re drivin’ back home.”

“Italy.” Sarah piques.

“Every god damn year—no Sarah we’re not goin’ to Italy. But we will one day. Promise.”

“Then I’m out of suggestions.”

“What about you?” Joel asks, addressing you. For a second you look unsure, and he notices your eyes finding Tommy’s through the rear window mirror. “With how often we see each other you might as well come with us on vacation. It’s only for a week.”

“Are you sure?”

Your voice comes out tiny, insecure. He hates it.

“‘Course I am.”

Tommy jumps in before you can respond, "How about Lake Buchanan? You know, where we used to take Sarah when she was little. There's a resort there now, called Canyon of the Eagles or something."

Joel raises an eyebrow, considering the suggestion. "Not a bad idea, Tommy. What do you think?" he asks, stealing a glance at you through the mirror.

A small, genuine smile forms on your face. "Sounds perfect. I'm in."

"Great," Joel grins. "Lake Buchanan it is."

Sarah, who had been lost in thought, perks up at the mention of the destination. "Lake Buchanan?"

"Yep, that's the place.” a fond smile playis on his lips. “Remember the stargazing?"

"Not really,” Sarah scrunches her face in concentration. “But it might be fun."

"It's gonna be a blast."

Joel shares a glance with you, both of you secretly reveling in the joy that Sarah's excitement brings.

He has no idea how long he’s been staring, but he knows it’s been for a while now.

Sarah walked up to her room pretty quickly when they arrived home, Joel wasn’t happy about the way she practically ran away from having a discussion, however he also figured he learned from the best—which was himself.

He takes a deep inhale, feels the way his chest expands, and exhales all of it from his lungs. He can do this. He can talk.

Joel knocks three times with his heart in his throat. He never felt more relieved in his life when he heard the faint permission to enter the room.

“Hey there, kiddo,” he says, leaving the door open. “I think we might have some things we need to discuss.”

“Is this about Kimberly?” Sarah sighs and closes the book she was reading. She sits up on her bed, pulling her skinny knees up to her chest, she stares at her dad. “I’ve already delt with that. We’re fine. And I’ll never do it ever again,” she raises her hand as if she was pledging herself to the American flag. “Promise.”

“You know that’s not why I’m here. There’s more we need to talk about and you know it.”

“I know you don’t like talking about her, dad,” she sighs. “I’m sorry I tackled Kimberly. She just got on my nerves. I don’t even know where it came from.”

Joel decides not to tell her that she did good tackling her classmate and that he’s proud. No one gets to bully his daughter, and he’s glad she knows how to defend herself. But it’s probably a good thing he doesn’t encourage it.

“I don’t mind talkin’ about it,” he says instead. “What do you wanna know?”

Sarah blinks, “Why’d she leave?”

The second time today Joel is indescribably gutted. It was a question he didn’t know the answer quite himself. He hated calling Sarah an accident—but if he had to keep it blunt that was what it was. They were young when they got married, and eager to be with one another. Joel still remembers the night. The creaking of his old truck as rain fell upon them. At the time he would’ve called it romantic. Jessica had just left work, Joel was waiting for her right in the parking lot. He didn’t want her to get soaked under the rain. She was upset at something that happened at work and searched for relief in his mouth. He remembers the way her curls tickled his face, how eager she was to mark his neck—

That was the first time he came inside her. She said she would take a pill the next day. Three weeks later they were pregnant. Joel, despite their crippling finances, was excited. A baby—what else could he have wanted? Sure he had to make some adjustments to his career but that didn’t matter to him.

Jessica left as soon as Sarah didn’t need to breastfeed anymore. She didn’t even leave a note. Her family was out of state and technology wasn’t as savvy as it was now. He couldn’t track her down. He’s also ashamed to admit he didn’t really try. He was hurt. Heartbroken. He thought they had something special, that having Sarah was both of their dreams.

But apparently, it was only his.

All he can feel is pain as he takes a seat next to Sarah on the bed. He wants to console her, tell her some solid truth that would ease her pain. But he can think of none.

“I don’t know, baby,” he says barely above a whisper. “She didn’t leave a note when she left and I could never track her down.” Sarah’s eyes shine with coming tears. He can’t handle it anymore, he pulls her to his chest, hugs her tight. “I’m sorry baby girl. None of this is your fault. I—I wish I could be better. I know I have shortcomings but I’m gettin’ there promise. And. . . And if you want we can. . .” A knot forms in his throat. He can barely speak. “We can track her down. Ask her for the truth. Because I swear sweetheart I don’t know. Maybe I did something to run her off,” Sarah stiffens under his hold but he continues. A faint sniffling reaches his ears. “I was workin’ day and night at the time. Tryin’ to get the business goin’. It’s possible I wasn’t attentive as much as I wanted to be—I might’ve—”

“Dad.” Sarah’s voice comes out harsh as she peels herself away from Joel’s embrace. He sees the fire in her eyes but also the pain, her sweet cheeks wet. Her brows are furrowed much like his and he can’t help but think it’s the cutest thing. “Her leaving isn’t your fault,” she then says, taking him by surprise. “I don’t know what you did—or if you did anything— but she lost all credibility when she just got up and left. Both. . . both of you were dealing with something huge. That burden can’t just be yours.”

Joel blinks rapidly. His eyes sting when he does, he takes a sharp inhale and refuses to wipe his eyes. He’s not crying. He’s not emotional. It’s just the remains of the damn perfume Sarah likes to spray so much of.

“And sure, we might have some problems, but that happens in every family. I love what we have. You’re the best dad a girl can ask for.”

“You think so?” Joel chokes out. Sarah quickly nods, her own eyes suddenly wetter than before. With a smile, he shakes his head and pulls her in for another embrace. “For what it’s worth you’re the best daughter a dad could ask for,” he murmurs. “And I ain’t mad at you for tacklin’ that Kimberly girl. She deserved it.”

Sarah’s laugh comes out muffled, “Dad. . . you’re not supposed to say that.”

“I don’t care.”

They hold on to each other with no urgency of breaking apart. He doesn’t care about the others. About the other families and their children. All he cares about is his daughter’s wellbeing. His own family that he built from jack squat.

The rest of the world can eat shit for all he cares. As long as his little girl is safe, his brother doing alright and you in his life, he doesn’t care about the Kimberlys of the world.

“So everything went alright with Sarah?”

Settling beside Joel, a bowl of popcorn rests comfortably on your lap. The DVD menu is on, faint music of the movie he popped in echoing from the speakers. You were a bit hesitant to come over after today. And you were surprised to hear that Sarah went out to stay with her friends. You’d expected the two to have a long talk, maybe even share a pint of ice cream. But Sarah was Joel’s daughter after all, just like his father she probably cut it short, told her how she felt and they both moved on.

You can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. However, as long as they’re both happy you don’t care all that much about how they get there.

“It went fine,” Joel responds, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Just like you said, I was honest and she understood. I’m tryin’ to figure out where to go from here. I think there are a bunch of old pictures in the garage, including Jessica and Sarah as a baby. I don’t know if she would wanna see those though.”

“Yeah. . .” Your eyes shift to the screen, sadly, you don’t really have an answer to that. It’s not like Sarah thinks of her mother fondly and would want to see pictures. Your brain and heart are both worn out from everything that happened today. Both organs scrambled and twisted. You let out a soft sigh—a sigh so soft that it barely parts your lips, but he hears you.

“I haven’t asked how you were feelin’ about all this,” he squeezes your shoulder. “How have ya been? This wasn’t all too much for you was it?”

You smile. After all this time you’re still not used to being looked out after.

“I’m okay. I just. . .” You think of Tommy and the look he gave you right before giving all his attention to Sarah. The hurt look in his eyes. The suspicion. “I need you to promise me something—I need you to swear on it.”

His brows furrow, the deep crease between them making your heart clench. You chew on the inside of your cheek, your stomach suddenly full of knots. “I need you to swear you’ll tell Tommy soon. We—We can do it together if you want but I can’t handle seeing him almost every day and just lying—”

“You’re—We’re not lyin’—”

“Swear.”

He turns to you now. The soft light of the TV illuminating his face, making it appear softer. More innocent and full of hurt. His eyes grow kind, understanding. Your eyes widen slightly. Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart plummets. You don’t think there’s a man out there capable of better understanding you than Joel Miller. He’s everything. And he makes you feel like everything.

“On my life.”

we're entering the vacation arc babes 🚗🌲🏞️

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #stay in bed

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pitifulbaby · 6 months

Text

Battle Of The Bands

summary: most people do rather traditional gender reveals, but how does a couple who aren't traditional do one?

pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Pregnant!Reader

warnings: pregnancy, eddie has some big feelings, day million of alice not knowing how to do warnings, probably bad writing

a/n: i have been trying to write this for honestly wayyyy toooo long, longer than i should have but! i hope you enjoy this! thank you to the ever so cute @eddieschains for helping me with this! i hope you enjoy! 3.5k words

stranger things masterlist

Parties were never your favorite thing, the crowds were always rowdy and the smell of cheap beer and weed seemed to linger even after you left. But you never minded smaller parties- more so just a friends and family get together. Sure at times they could get loud, but it was never as intense as other parties.

In an odd way you compared it to a spider, the bigger a party gets the more uncomfortable you are, much like a spider. Small spiders are bearable, but as they get bigger? Nope.

So never did you think you would ever have a gender reveal party, you figured if you had kids you would always just find out the gender through an ultrasound, and that never seemed to be a problem for you. It had been Eddie’s idea to do a gender reveal party. He wanted your child to get to experience things he never got to- even if it had to start way before the baby was here yet.

You don’t blame him because you were the same way, you both grew up with hardships and not getting to have things other kids your age did. So you both vowed to give them as much as you can. You two were already obsessed with the baby, only being five months into your pregnancy.

The baby wasn’t fully planned, but that doesn’t mean you two weren’t welcoming the baby with open arms. Things happen for a reason, some good and some bad. But this seemed to be a good thing. Sure you both were rather young to be starting a family, but you two loved each other more than anything in this world, so you knew things would be okay.

Eddie searched for all the ways people reveal the gender, cutting into a cake with the inside being blue or pink, opening a box to reveal balloons, popping those powder poppers, but Eddie thought those were boring and overdone, and truthfully you agreed with him. Maybe it was because those were rather traditional reveals and you two were probably the least traditional in anything. And finally the idea came to him.

The two of you often shopped at thrift stores or garage sales for things, mostly going shopping there for clothes for either of you- wanting to save money to buy brand new things for the baby. Currently your normal clothes just didn’t fit right anymore, some of the oversized shirts you owned still fit, but anything else was just too tight on your stomach that was housing another human. The thrift store you two often went to the most was smackdab in town, a mixture of modern and vintage things mingled into one shop. It was pretty big for a locally owned thrift store, with a section for clothing, furniture, books and movies, and well, everything else you would find at a place like goodwill, but with much nicer things for lower prices.

You were both looking through the maternity clothes, your brows furrowed as you tried to find something you liked. Eddie stood next to you, his hand on your lower back and rubbing soft circles against the fabric of the shirt you wore- that was also one of his shirts. Your gaze wandered over each and every clothing item you looked at, asking Eddie his opinions on whatever you pointed out. He gave you his honest opinion, which was that you would look good in anything, everything and even better in nothing. To which you would either scoff, roll your eyes, feel flustered or all of the above.

After managing to find a good bit of things you liked, you two decided to head to the front to check out and pay. The owners of the store were an older couple, but today it was just the wife running the store. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the younger couple, she knew you both by name- always raved about how you were both her favorite customers.

“Hey you two!” Her voice was cheery, a bit worn from years of smoking and just being as she was older, a southern drawl laced through some of the words she spoke.

“Hi Mrs. Mabel,” Eddie replied with a smile, placing your clothes on the counter. The elder lady simply rolled her eyes at Eddie, smacking his arm softly, “I told you to stop adding ‘Mrs’ to the beginning of my name, makes me feel old and I already feel one foot in the grave.” Mabel scowled at the boy, which only caused you to laugh and lean against Eddie ever so.

Mabel started to ring up the clothes that were priced amazingly low, smiling at the two love birds in front of her. “How have you been feeling, Mom?” She questions, eyes landing on you and letting her gaze shift to your swollen stomach. You simply let out a soft groan at her question, leaning more against Eddie as the woman lets out a snort of a laugh. “I get it honey,” She replies with a soft smile.

The rest of the transaction goes fast, her quickly ringing the clothes up and bagging them. Before you two leave though she turns to Eddie. “This is a bit random, but someone dropped off this guitar and it's rather banged up so we aren’t going to sell it. Do you want it?” She questions as she brings up an older looking, wooden acoustic guitar. There was a large water stain on it and it looked like someone went to town on it with markers and crayons. There were scratches on it and one of the strings was snapped.

As Eddie looks at the guitar, you could almost see the lightbulb going off above his head, a wide smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “You sure?” He asks, in which she simply nods, “You would be doing me a favor.” She says handing over the guitar. He grabs the neck of the guitar, “Thank you.”

Once you two were seated in your car, Eddie seated in the drivers seat and you in the passenger, but before driving away he turns to you with a big smile. “I figured it out.” He says, a sense of pride evident in his voice. You arched a brow at him, leaning back against the seat and after moving the vents to blow air directly at you. Your head is turned to him, staring at him. The car is silent, which is much different from when you first get in his van and he puts the keys in, music usually will blast out- but he doesn’t play the music super loud in your car. It's always turned down to a respectable level.

You two blink at one another for a moment before you finally speak, “Are you gonna tell me what you figured out or do I have to guess?” You ask with a cock of your head, Eddie blinks and lets out a small laugh, “Sorry, got distracted looking at you.” Somehow his smile manages to widen as he speaks. You roll your eyes to try and hide how flustered his words made you, feeling heat rise in your chest. “Stop it,” You manage to get out, words breathy.

“No sweetheart, I’m not gonna make you guess. I figured out how we are gonna do the gender reveal.” Eddie’s words are sickeningly sweet, leaning over the console to press a kiss to your lips before he is seated normal and driving the two of you back home.

Though you never enjoyed parties, you couldn’t help but be excited for this one. Nancy had helped you and Eddie plan the whole thing, letting you two come up with the ideas and came up with a few herself, and then she would help get the things needed. Since you and Eddie were far from traditional, you two planned it all differently than a normal gender reveal. The dress code was simple, if they thought you were having a girl you wore red, and if they thought you were having a boy you wore black.

The party was being hosted at yours and Eddie’s home. Though the dress code was black and red, you two kept the other stuff the traditional blue and pink, only for the fact that it's rather hard to find baby items for parties in black and red.

Nancy had come over at around 10:30 in the morning to help finish setting everything up. She came wearing an outfit that didn’t correspond with either red or black because she was the one who knew if it was a boy or a girl. Nancy was given the gender in an envelope, the ultrasound technician writing the gender of the baby down and sealing it up for you to give to whomever. So she was tasked with knowing.

Though the set up was simple, it screamed you and Eddie. Pink and blue guitar picks decorating the table, balloons shaped like music notes, lots of sweet treats and salty foods, you had gotten a cute journal and put it on the table for everyone to either sign their names or just write something sweet for the baby to read when they got older, and then a sign on the wall that said;

“Battle of the bands! Cast your vote, BLACK Sabbath vs RED Hot Chilli Peppers!”

The black was colored blue and the red was pink, and to cast your vote all you had to do was write your name on a little music note sticker and stick it under the respected side of the ‘band’ you were voting for. There were some other little things here and there, but the thing everyone was here for was of course, the reveal.

Eddie had thought long and hard about how to go about it, but the day Mabel gave him the old guitar that was honestly needing to be trashed, he knew what he had to do. Eddie explained to Nancy to get that colored powder that they use in the gender reveal videos, stick a bunch of it in the soundhole in the body of the guitar and then seal it up so none of the color seeps out.

And then it would be simple, the guitar would be smashed and the color would fly out.

Eddie had given you the opportunity to smash the guitar, but you told him you thought it would be better if he did, and after a bit of back and forthing he finally agreed to be the one to smash it.

The party was in full swing, it was full of your closest friends, the people who you thought of as your family. You weren’t close with your biological family, never really were. You were always the outcast, the black sheep so to say, of the family. And truthfully you can’t remember the last time they tried to contact you, so you never contacted them. So they weren’t invited to the party.

The only person Eddie was truly in contact with in his family was his uncle Wayne, who was Eddie’s saving grace. So he was the only blood family there.

Then of course there was the rest of corroded coffin, plus the other close members of the hellfire club. And then the other members of the close, tight knit family you created.

Eddie was glued to your hip for most of the pregnancy, and today wasn’t any different- and to some others it would be annoying, but truthfully you didn’t mind it. Maybe you two were in the honeymoon phase, but it had been like this since you two started dating when you were both sixteen. But you were both now freshly twenty three, so perhaps this was just gonna be how you two would always be.

A gentle hand was rubbing up and down your back, your lover letting you lean into him as you stood talking with Wayne.

Wayne Munson was a wonderful man, a hardheaded gentleman with a heart of gold. He never doubted that either of you could take care of a child- though you knew he kinda hoped you two would’ve waited a little later in life. But, he was happy for you both and excited to be a grandfather, though he joked and said he was too young to be one.

“Now you tell me if this boy isn’t helping you, alright?” Wayne spoke, a southern twang laced in his words as his hand reaches out and grabs a hold of Eddie’s shoulder, giving him a small shake. His words caused you to laugh and Eddie to groan, “Wayne-”

“He is very helpful, wont let me do anything myself.” You said with a bright smile, enjoying seeing Eddie embarrassed. But before the conversation could continue, Nancy was wandering over to the three of you, a soft smile on her face as she reaches a hand and places it against your arm. “You guys ready?” Nancy had told you guys to stay inside while she set the rest of the stuff outside, planning to do the reveal in the driveway.

“You ready to smash a guitar?” You said as you turned to Eddie, you weren’t surprised to see him already looking at you, he pouts softly. “It's gonna feel like I'm committing a sin, but yes.”

In truth he was scared as hell, not for the fact of smashing a guitar, but knowing the gender. It’s not that he wants one more than the other, it was more so the fact that the moment he knows what it will be will be making it that much more real. He was excited to be a father, but he still had that lingering fear of fucking up the kids life. He didn’t want to turn out like his dad, and it feels like everyday that passes the memories he had with his mother become more hazy.

He had Wayne and he was the father figure he needed, but he still had that anxiety that no matter what, that it would happen. No matter how many times you reassure him he can’t help but wonder, what if it's just in his genetics? What if sometime down the line something in him switches and he becomes a carbon copy of his father?

But everytime you look at him with that smile, each time he feels a kick, looking at the sonogram, that fear seems to slowly start to fade.

Moments later the gaggle of your found family is crowded in the driveway, Eddie holding the guitar carefully as his gaze finds yours. Jonathan was in charge of recording it all, which he had no problem in doing so, Nancy was stood by a radio, shoving a cassette tape in and soon Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns n’ Roses was playing through. The song causes Eddie to laugh, his grip on the guitar tightening as he holds it safe and nearly doubles over in laughter, which in turn causes you to laugh at his enjoyment.

Neither of you were expecting the song choice, but boy was it welcomed.

Once again Eddie was looking towards you, “Ready?” He yelled out to you over the song, placing the guitar over his shoulder and gripping the neck tight. Your left hand went and rested against your stomach, nodding with a bright smile. “C’mon! I wanna know what I’m growing!” You soon exclaimed back, you knew no matter what gender you were having you would be happy, and you knew you sounded like most every parent out there when you said all you wanted was for the baby to be healthy, but it was true. That was all that mattered to you, that the baby was happy and healthy.

With a playful eyeroll Eddie was then rearing back the guitar before smashing it against the concrete. And with the single smash the neck of the guitar snapped off, causing pink powder to puff out of the body of the guitar and settle against the ground.

Eddie is then letting go of the broken neck, jumping for joy as he hollers excitedly. You, of course, were an emotional mess. The moment the color appeared the tears pooled in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks. Everyone around you was screaming and cheering, but they got tuned out the moment the gender was revealed.

It didn’t take a second longer before Eddie was sprinting towards you and taking you into his arms. A second later he was pulling away, resting his hands against your cheeks. “We are gonna have a baby girl!” You sobbed out, hands grasping the sides of his shirt. His only reply was an excited laugh, pressing his lips to yours- but it was difficult to kiss as you two smiled so intensely.

The kiss was interrupted as a pop! Sound was heard, which turned out to be Gareth and Dustin popping streamers over you and Eddie. The male pulled you into a hug once again, pressing kisses to your forehead as your friends swarmed over.

“I told you guys it was gonna be a girl.” You heard Max say to Dustin and Lucas, her arms crossed over her chest as she smirked at them. “I should’ve bet money on it.” She added, which made Dustin roll his eyes and Lucas to shrug his shoulders.

The rest of the party seemed to settle after that, the younger hellfire members helping clean off the driveway- which was just hosing down the driveway. Everyone chatted for a bit before starting to leave, not before giving the two of you a hug and words of congratulation. Nancy, Jonathan and Wayne had stayed back to help clean, there wasn’t much to clean and you know it wouldn’t take long for you and Eddie to do it, but they took the chores upon themselves.

Each and every single time you tried to help you were just shooed away, which in a way you were okay with- you had been on your feet for quite some time today and you were really feeling it now.

Wayne ended up staying the longest, helping Eddie make the three of you a nice dinner before he decided it was time for him to head back home, leaving with a kiss to your forehead and a soft smile. Eddie had walked Wayne out to his truck, which you knew that they would be outside talking for a good while. So while they were outside you had gotten yourself ready for bed, laying under the downy soft comforter with a book.

Eddie had wandered back inside almost half an hour after he walked his uncle out, a tired glaze in his eyes and his features relaxed. He locked up the house before stepping into your shared bedroom, quickly changing into a pair of pajamas- which consisted of an old pair of sleep pants and a shirt he cut the arms off. Once he had gotten under the covers he was propping himself up on his side, gently taking your book from your hands and putting the bookmark in.

He placed the book on the side table before settling back where he just was, his free hand nudging up your cotton sleep shirt and resting upon your bump. You two just laid there and stared at one another for a moment or so, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

You could feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, letting yourself curl into Eddie. “Oh honey,” He cooed softly, laying back flat on the bed and taking you with him. Your arms wrap around his torso as you rest your head against his chest- not fully laying on him, more so half on him. “What's wrong?” He asked quietly, “I don’t mean to cry,” You start with a sniffle, “I’m just, really happy.” Your words were sincere, giving Eddie a squeeze as you spoke. With a small laugh he is pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Me too, a baby girl. In just four more months we will have a daughter.” Eddie spoke with awe in his voice, his hand starting to rub your back while the other one takes a hold of your hand and rests it against his chest. Your tears had subsided, more so just watering up but they never fell. You find yourself relaxing as you listen to the thud, thud, thud, of your lovers heartbeat. Feeling any tense muscles in your body ease up as your eyes slip shut.

“We are gonna have to come up with a name, and we still need to paint the nursery- how is it that nine months feels so long but, fuck, its going by so fast.” Your words were slightly slurred as you felt the tug of sleep pulling at you, “I still think that Ozzy is a kickass name.” Eddie said after a few moments of silence, causing a laugh to bubble up, moving your hand from his hold and reaching over and gently pinching his nipple.

“Hey! Stop- what if I gotta breast feed?” Eddie nearly squeals, using his now free hand to cover his nipple. “You grabbing my nipples is how you got pregnant.” He grumbles, “If I remember correctly it was the other way around.” You retorted back, “Also, if you somehow magically start producing milk, I am taking you to a doctor.” Was the last thing you managed to say before sleep finally took hold of you.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x pregnant reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie x reader

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elizabethwritesmen · 6 months

Text

i don’t want you like a best friend

┏ •◦இ•◦ ┓

Pairing: College!Steve Harrington x Reader ALSO Ghostface!Steve x Witch!Reader (costumes)

Summary: You’re in Indiana for college. You just happen to be roommates with Steve Harrington’s best friend, Robin. This is a list of the times you bumped into him, starting with July move in day and ending with a friend’s Halloween party.

Warnings/Notes (PLEASE READ) : SMUT 18+, pining, friends to lovers, Robin being intrusive, Robin’s parents also being intrusive, angst, Halloween if ur into that, ghostface!Steve x Witch!reader (costumes obv), also if ur name is Grace this isn’t the fic for you just trust me on this, this is semi-modern I don’t mention time periods at all but I also made no attempt at historical accuracy so do with that what u will. it’s all make believe it doesn’t rlly matter imo. also this is a college au so I made up college friends for them! ALSO i have plans for another halloween fic, a super spooky super sexy one, but it will go up late prob sometime in late. november because i’ve put all my energy into this one and staying alive lol. enjoy! <3

┗ •◦இ•◦ ┛

•Move In Day

I stared blankly at the boxes in front of me. The U-Haul I’d rented was jam packed with furniture and all of my belongings, leaving barely enough room to breathe.

For some reason, I thought it would be easy. I thought I could girl-boss it, get it done, all in a few hours’ work. Clearly I was temporarily insane when I came to that conclusion. Oh, well. Now I didn’t have a choice.

I sucked in a deep breath before resigning myself to my fate and starting.

I carried in the lightest stuff first, wanting to get it out of the way. I figured once I got through all the heavy stuff, I wouldn’t have any energy left for it, so might as well do it first. I got about four boxes upstairs, and I was bringing up a fifth and sixth, when I noticed the door already opened. I was sure I had shut it.

I walked in to see a girl and a guy, both around my age. She was dancing around, placing boxes of her own on the other side of the room. I cleared my throat gently, placing my boxes on the rest of my things.

She snapped out of her trance and her eyes landed on me. As did those of the guy she was with.

“Oh, hi!” She smiled brightly, “You just be my roommate!”

“Must be,” I sent her a polite smile in return, but mine was a lot more shy and reserved, “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Robin, and this is my best friend Steve,” she introduced, “He’s helping me get all my things up here.”

“Oh, nice to meet you both. Let me know if I can help with anything!” I offered.

“Oh no, that’s fine, I’m sure you have your hands full! Are your parents here helping you?”

“No, just me. I’m new here, so… I don’t really have anyone,” I shrugged, preparing to head back downstairs when she stopped me.

“Hey, wait!”

I turned around, staring at her expectantly, eager to get back to carrying my boxes upstairs. I didn’t want to be rude, but.. there were so many.

“My parents will be here soon to help me, so why don’t you steal Steve?”

“Oh,” I stuttered, looking to Steve, “I couldn’t ask you to help me. Really, it’s fine, I can get it.”

“It’s no trouble,” he shrugged, “I’d like to. I’d hate for you to have to carry everything up by yourself. Besides, any roommate of Robin’s is a friend of mine.”

I breathed out a little chuckle and nodded, “If you insist.”

He followed me to the elevator, pressing the button for me and walking on after me. I expected awkward silence but there was none, he didn’t allow a single lull between his questions. He wanted to know everything, where I was from, what made me choose the school, what kinds of things I was into.

“Do you go here, too?” I asked him as we approached the U-Haul.

“Yes, I moved in yesterday. Robin helped me get everything to my dorm, but I’m on the first floor, so it was super easy. I figured I should help her anyway, though, even though she doesn’t need it.”

“She might not need it, but extra help is always appreciated. Or any help.”

“Is that your way of thanking me for helping you?”

“Well, it was either that or bake you a cake and there isn’t an oven in the dorm.”

“Raincheck on the cake, then,” he chuckled.

We talked the entire way back up, and I was shocked at how easy it came. I didn’t expect to click so well with him, and I silently prayed it’d be the same with Robin.

“There you two are,” she smiled as we walked back in, “Did he talk your ear off?”

“No,” I shrugged, “He talked the normal amount.”

“Yeah, the normal amount for a 6 year old on a road trip.”

Their dynamic was nice. They picked on each other, sure, but it was all friendly.

On the second trip down, Steve told me about his life. His high school experience, his hobbies, his hair. His friendship with Robin. I couldn’t tell whether or not there was something more than friendship there. I couldn’t help the small part of me that hoped not, Steve was really handsome and the nicest person I’d met in a while. But I definitely didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, and I was much too shy to ask. Besides, a guy like him probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me anyway.

By the time we got back up to the dorm, Robin’s parents were there.

“Oh hello,” her mom smiled, “You must be the roommate! Y/N, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” I responded.

“Well I’m Robin’s mom, Melissa, and this is her Dad, Richard. It’s so nice to meet you! Oh, you’re just so pretty!”

“Thank you,” I grinned, a little overwhelmed with how nice the woman was being. She was pretty, much like Robin, and she’d aged well. But she also had a warmth about her that was comforting, welcoming even.

An hour later, they had all of Robin’s things up and unpacked. They didn’t even ask if I wanted help finishing up, they just got to work, carrying the last of my things up with Steve and beginning to open boxes.

“You guys really don’t have to do all this,” I mumbled, sheepishly. I always felt awful accepting help, overwhelmed with gratefulness to the point of guilt.

“Oh, hush!” her mom laughed, “We want to!”

It only took another hour to have everything in its place, and we all stared proudly at our handiwork.

“Thank you all so much for your help,” I smiled at the group.

“Of course!” Mr. Buckley patted me on the back, his grin charming, “And if you ever need anything else, you call us! Now, how about we all go get something to eat? I think we’ve worked up enough of an appetite!”

I at first assumed I wasn’t invited because, well, it’s Robin’s family and Steve has apparently been her best friend for years so he’s basically family too. I was new in all this and definitely didn’t expect to be having dinner with all of them. But when they all walked towards the door and I hung back, everyone turned to me, matching confusion on their faces.

“Come on,” Robin chuckled, “You think we’re gonna let you starve after all the work we just did?”

And just like that, we all piled into Mrs. Buckley’s car. I was squished in the middle between Robin and Steve. I wanted to give her the middle because she was so small, but she told me she would feel carsick from Steve’s cologne and she’d rather have the window seat.

“What’re you kids in the mood for?” Mrs Buckley asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve responded, and Robin and I agreed.

“I think there’s a barbecue joint a few miles down the road, let’s stop there,” Mr Buckley decided, turning to the back seat, “I know Robin and Steve like that, but is it okay with you, Y/N?”

“Of course,” I nodded, still shocked to be included in the dynamic.

Mrs Buckley almost missed the driveway to the restaurant and she slammed on her brakes and turned in at the last second, throwing me gracelessly into Steve, my seatbelt the only thing keeping me off his lap. He caught me swiftly as he himself hit the door, making sure I didn’t hurt myself in the commotion.

I risked a glance at him to see his eyes peering into mine, concerned and a bit discombobulated from the startle of it all.

“You okay?” he asked, and I nodded, staring down at his arm that was still around me. He cleared his throat, setting me upright in my seat as we pulled into a parking spot.

I turned to Robin, taking note of the huge smirk on her face. She was looking past me, eyes on Steve. Must’ve been some kind of inside joke I wasn’t part of yet.

We all walked inside together, and the hostess sat us at a booth, pulling an extra chair up to the end of it. I went to sit in it when Robin stopped me.

“Remember what I said about Steve’s cologne? And I get claustrophobic. You’d better sit by him, I’ll take the extra chair.”

I nodded slightly, sliding into the booth and letting Steve slide in beside me. I didn’t understand what the big deal was about his cologne, it wasn’t that strong. It was subtle but sweet, cinnamon overwhelming my senses and filling me with a warmth and comfort I craved. The kind of cologne that, when someone passes you wearing it, you stop and take a deep breath in, soak it up for all it’s worth.

Robin’s mom and dad, and Robin herself, were all giving Steve that strange smirk now, and I suddenly felt left out. I guess they were all in on the joke. Unlucky me.

We made small talk while we looked over the menus, picking what we wanted to eat.

“What’re you gonna get?” Steve asked, and I had to look up to realize his question was just for me. Robin and her parents were talking amongst themselves, completely ignoring us.

“I don’t know, probably just chicken fingers. I’m picky when I try new places.”

“Lame,” he tapped me in the ribs and joked, and I squirmed against his touch.

“It’s not lame! It’s a classic!”

“Let me guess, macaroni on the side?” he raised a brow, and I stared sheepishly at my lap, causing him to chuckle, “You’re pretty predictable, Grace.”

“That’s not my name,” I furrowed my brows at him.

“It’s a nickname. You know, Grace. ‘Cause you fell on me in the car. It’s irony.”

“Giving me nicknames already? My, how our friendship is growing,” I rolled my eyes, “If only it wasn’t such a rude one.”

“You can give me a rude one, too,” he offered, and I thought it over for a moment.

“Okay,” I nodded, “Box Boy.”

“Box Boy?”

“Yeah, cause you brought in all my boxes.”

“That’s the best you got?”

“It probably won’t stick, but I like it for now.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Robin cut into our conversation, wiggling her eyebrows at us.

“It’s a secret, that’s why we’re whispering,” Steve deadpanned, and she snorted.

“Well, you two keep your secrets, and we’ll keep ours.”

“Fine by me, I have a feeling your secrets are pretty dark.”

I stifled a laugh, taking a long sip of my soda.

The rest of the dinner was full of happy chatting and getting to know each other. It turns out I got along really well with all of them, and I integrated well into the little group.

“You know, Y/N, I’m really happy you agreed to come eat with us,” Mrs Buckley told me as her husband handled the check.

“I’m just thankful you invited me! And paid for my food. Really, you didn’t have to!”

“Now stop with the bashfulness, you’re basically family now!”

With that, everyone stood. Steve helped me out of the booth and held the door open for me on the way out. It was sweet, in an old time kind of way. I fought off butterflies, and a crush that I felt coming a mile away.

Robin’s family dropped us off, and we stood outside talking for a few minutes.

“I’m gonna go inside and crash, but you two kids say your goodbyes,” she waved her hands at us and walked away, leaving us in silence.

“So…” I started.

“So…” he repeated.

“It was nice to meet you,” I offered.

“You, too.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again.”

“Hopefully.”

“Soon.”

“Yeah.”

I paused, not knowing what else to say. He was making no move to ask for my number, of course he probably wasn’t even interested like that anyway.

“Goodnight,” I smiled.

“Goodnight,” he repeated.

He stood for a moment and I stayed there, waiting for him to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see you get inside safe.”

I giggled, “Yes sir.” And with that, I walked in.

The elevator ride to the fifth floor was long, but finally I was approaching my door, and I walked through it sleepily. I collapsed onto my bed, trying to ignore Robin’s staring.

“So…” she sighed, “You and Steve, huh?”

“Me and Steve what?”

“You guys have got it going on!”

“Have what going on?”

“Oh my God, Y/N, seriously, the sparks could’ve lit a cigarette. Did you give him your number?”

“He didn’t ask,” I shrugged, “Besides. I thought you guys were a thing.”

“I’m into chicks,” she rolled her eyes, “And even if I wasn’t, I still don’t know why you’d think that. I forced you to sit beside him the entire day. You think his cologne really bothers me that much? NO. I wanted you guys to… you know…. hit it off!!”

“Well, I think he’s a little out of my league,” I shrugged, sinking further into my sheets sadly.

“He absolutely is not. And I promise he’s into you. He’s just not the best with girls is all. He’ll have your number soon enough.”

“You’re not planning on giving it to him, right?”

“What? No! I’m gonna make the little shit ask you himself!”

“If he ever does.”

“He will.”

•First Day of Class

I walked into the lecture hall, brows furrowed, trying to make sure I was where I was supposed to be. Yes, room 208, I concluded.

It was a large room, but it wasn’t completely full. There were only about 20-30 people there total. I, of course, didn’t recognize any of them, so I took a seat away from everyone else. Nobody even spared me a glance, and I felt comfortable in my solitude, until the heavy door opened and shut behind me and a figure looked over me.

I looked up to see Steve, just as handsome as the first time I saw him. He was wearing a pair of joggers and a yellow sweatshirt, and he pulled off the comfy look well.

“Why are you sitting over here all alone?” he asked, one perfect eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know anyone,” I shrugged, and he scoffed.

“Well come sit by me and the guys from my dorm. I’ll introduce you.”

“I think I’d rather stay here.”

“Really?” I nodded slowly, “Then you leave me no choice.” He plopped down in the chair beside me, setting his things down and getting comfortable.

“What’re you doing?” I asked him.

“Well I’m not just gonna let you sit all alone.”

“But I like being alone,” I huffed, “Plus your friends miss you!” I gestured to the three guys staring holes through us.

He glanced in their direction and nodded, and that’s all it took for them to pile over to us.

“Stevie! My man! You gonna introduce us to your lovely friend?” One of them asked as he took the seat in front of us. He held his hand out for me to shake and I took it carefully, sighing.

“This is Grace.“

“That’s not my name!” I groaned.

“Then what is your name?” the tallest of the guys asked.

“Y/N.”

“Cute,” he winked at me, and Steve rolled his eyes sharply. “Y/N, this is Tate, Drew and Johnny.”

They all greeted me kindly and I responded in turn, but there wasn’t much time to talk before an older man walked in, an air of authority in his step.

“Hello, all. I’m Professor Chomsky, I’ll be teaching this course,” he began. What followed was a list of rules, regulations, class schedules, and lesson plans dull enough to make my forehead hit the desk in front of me.

“This is awful,” Steve whispered beside me, and the other guys nodded, “Another hour of his voice might kill me.”

“Shh!” I hissed at him, trying my best to focus on what the man at the front of the room was saying.

“Oh, get off it,” Steve smirked, “You’re just as bored as we are.”

“I’ll have you know I’m absolutely riveted!”

“Lying isn’t a good look, Grace.”

Just then, Tate chimed in, “Why do you call her Grace anyway if her name is Y/N?”

“It’s an inside thing,” Steve waved him off, “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Yeah, because calling me ‘Grace’ to make fun of me for being clumsy is such a hard joke to understand.”

“I don’t like your attitude today, Grace,” he furrowed his brows dramatically, and I couldn’t help giggling.

We were all interrupted by the sound of Professor Chomsky’s voice, booming at us to be quiet. We obeyed, whispering quietly every now and then but mostly hanging on by a thread to his monotonous words.

The class ended about a half hour later and Steve and I went our separate ways. We ended up having one more class together, and the guys were all in there, too, plus Drew’s girlfriend Natalie and Johnny’s sister Elaine. Robin as well. It was the most fun of all of them. It also happened to be my last class of the day. As it wrapped up and we all packed up our things, Steve stopped in front of my chair.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked me.

“Sure,” I nodded with a smile, throwing my bag over my shoulder and following him out.

We chatted on the five minute walk. I found that I didn’t want it to end, but I hoped when it did, he would ask for my number. Or something, at least, to make me think he was interested. Part of me knew he wasn’t, though. Not as more than a friend.

“Here we are,” I sighed as we approached the doors.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “So… umm.. I’m happy we have those classes together. It’ll be nice to hangout every week.”

“Yeah, and we seem to have a good little group going. I like everyone a lot.”

“Everyone likes you a lot, too.”

I swayed on my toes, staring at him, waiting patiently. For what, I wasn’t sure.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he proclaimed, his voice chipper. I nodded slowly. “You know the drill, I can’t leave until you’re inside safe.”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a dopey grin, walking in just as I had the last time.

• Hangout at Elaine’s Apartment

Days of hanging out with Steve in class passed slowly, and I soaked in every moment. I was trying desperately to keep what I felt at bay, but it proved difficult when he wanted to walk me home every day.

A month went by and it was Saturday. I woke up around noon, the week had been especially exhausting, and immediately started studying. Robin did the same, sitting at her desk beside me and rifling through her flash cards.

“How is it that he’s walked you home every single day and still not asked for your number?” she asked out of nowhere.

“Robin, we’re talking about biochem. Not Steve.”

“Believe me, Steve is a scientific anomaly, so it’s close enough.”

I rolled my eyes, “I don’t know, okay? It’s like I wait for him to make a move or something every day, but he never does.”

“Well isn’t there anything between you both? All the rest of us can see it!”

“There’s chemistry, or at least I thought there was, but now I’m sure it was just one sided. He’s just not into me like that.”

“Then why does he walk you home every single day and not me?”

“Well… you have another class after that so you couldn’t walk with us, and he probably just doesn’t want to walk that far twice a day.”

“You’re grasping at straws. The boy wants you.”

“Why are you so invested, anyway? It’s not that serious, Rob. We’re just friends, that’s fine with me.”

“I just…” she started, trying to form her words correctly, “Steve has never been good with girls. He had one girlfriend, in high school. She wasn’t the best. I mean, she was fine, and he was happy, but she hurt him and he.. well, the details don’t matter but anyway. He never really had luck with any other girls. He was always too caught up in something else. But now we’re out of that town and you can’t convince me that your coming into our lives was a coincidence. Steve deserves this, and I want him to have it. If he can just get out of his own way.”

“And if he can’t?”

“He will. Believe me. It’s just gonna take a big push.”

“I’d rather just be his friend than stress myself over it,” I shrugged, going back to my studying.

A couple hours later, Robin got a text from Steve telling her that everyone was hanging out at Elaine’s apartment and we should come.

“Wanna go?” she asked me.

“I don’t know, I have a lot of studying left to do,” I hesitated.

“I was only asking to be polite. We’re going,” she stated, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my closet. “And you’re not wearing those wrinkly old jeans and a baggy t shirt. Pick something cute.”

“I’m not really a ‘cute clothes’ girl.”

“Well, tonight, you are.” She looked through my closet, pulling out a yellow sundress I stole from my mom’s closet at some point in time. I had to admit, it was a beautiful dress.

“You’ll wear this with your white sneakers,” she instructed, leaving no room for argument so I just nodded. “Steve won’t know what hit him!”

“Honestly, he’s probably into Elaine.”

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s… well, she’s older. She’s smart, and beautiful, and she always dresses to impress. She’s just.. she’s got everything.”

“Yeah, that’s why I have a crush on her. But I promise Steve doesn’t.”

“Whatever you say.”

Before long, it was time to get ready. I put on a little makeup, just some mascara, blush, and lip gloss, and paired gold hoops and a gold charm bracelet with the dress, slipping on my sneakers and following Robin out the door.

We were supposed to meet Steve outside of his dorm. The plan was for him to drive us to Elaine’s. As we approached the parking lot, we saw him leaning against the driver’s door of his car. Elaine was right in front of him, and they were locked in what seemed like a deep conversation.

“What’s that all about?” Robin asked as we took a step or two closer. I stopped in my tracks, though, when Elaine leaned up and kissed him square on his lips.

My heart shattered into about a million pieces. It’s crazy how you never know how intense your feelings for someone are until they blow up in your face. Sure, it hadn’t been long since I met him, but everyone has had a crush that spiraled out of control way too quickly.

“Hey, love birds?” Robin called out, her voice accusing.

They broke apart, startled, and stared at us dumbly. No doubt Steve saw the hurt on my face, but I tried so hard to keep it at bay.

“Grace,” he started, making a move to walk over to me, but the scene was interrupted by the other 3 guys joining us.

“Okay, so how’s this gonna work?” Tate blurted as they approached, “I know Y/N and Steve always have to sit by each other, And Natalie will be on Drew’s lap in the back, so I’m assuming Robin is gonna squeeze in the back with us?”

“I’d rather ride on the hood,” she croaked.

“It’s fine,” I sighed, “I’ll ride in the back with you guys, Robin can sit up front.”

“Well, someone can ride with me,” Elaine offered, “And you’ll just have to ride uncomfortably on the way back instead of both ways?”

“I will,” Natalie offered, “Wanna join me, Drew? That way there’s room in Steve’s car for everyone?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, following her to Elaine’s vehicle.

“I still wanna sit in the back,” I shrugged, climbing into the middle and letting both boys climb on either side of me.

Steve stared into the car at me for a moment, fists clenched, before climbing in behind the wheel and pulling off.

The ride had the potential to be awkward, and if it wasn’t for Johnny and Tate, it would’ve been. They lightened the mood a lot. Between their jokes and banter, I felt comfortable a couple minutes in. It was only a ten minute drive, and it went by extra quick with them.

As Steve pulled in, the car lurched to the side and threw me onto Tate.

“Woah there, I see why Steve calls you Grace now,” he laughed as he helped me up. The spark I felt when it happened with Steve wasn’t there, but Steve didn’t know that, and he sent us a death glare through the rear view mirror.

Elaine pulled in right after us and lead us up a flight of stairs to an isolate apartment, quite large. It was a one bedroom two bathroom, but every room was huge.

“Mi casa es su casa,” she sighed as we walked in. “I’ve got drinks, card games, books to study, and lots of movies. Whatever you guys are into!”

“Let’s starts out with the drinks,” Johnny suggested, and everyone nodded.

Moments later, we all had a beer in our hands. Elaine suggested we save the liquor for after, and we agreed. We also all collectively decided we would play Cards Against Humanity until we were tipsy, and then we would watch a horrible movie together.

Music played from the radio in the background as we all settled into our spots for the night. Drew and Natalie on the bean bag chair, Johnny Tate and Robin piled onto the couch, and Elaine cozy in her recliner. That left only the loveseat for Steve and I, and I fought a scowl.

“Scoot over, Rob,” I gestured, but she refused.

“I wanna stretch out and be comfy! There’s plenty of room on the love seat!”

I rolled my eyes and flipped her off, walking begrudgingly to Steve and plopping down beside him.

“Is sitting by me really that bad of a thing?” he asked, and everyone stared at me, waiting for an answer.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just.. Robin was right. Your cologne is a lot.”

He almost looked hurt, but he shook it off as we started the game.

A few rounds in, Steve leaned back in his seat, accidentally shifting himself closer to me. I stared down at his leg, almost touching mine.

“You look nice tonight,” he mumbled so nobody but me could hear, “I’ve never seen you in something so… delicate before.”

“If you’re gonna compliment someone, it should be your girlfriend,” I shrugged off what he’d said and took a long swig of my beer.

“Girlfriend?” he furrowed his brows.

“You know. The girl you kissed.”

“Oh.” He stared at his lap. “Listen, Grace, that wasn’t -“

“I don’t want to hear it,” I shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me. You guys are super cute together, I’m real happy for you.”

He looked taken aback but my tone told him he should let it go, and he did, taking a swig of his own beer and leaving me alone for the moment. The moment didn’t last long, though, because before long everyone was a little intoxicated from all the alcohol and his arm was resting on my shoulders. I couldn’t fight the way I fell into him, I could barely even fight the sleep.

“Movie time!” Elaine exclaimed, jumping up to find her favorite DVD. She picked a cheesy old scary movie that barely made sense, and we were all more than happy with it. Nobody wants to watch a good movie while they’re drunk. She settled back in as it began, munching on the snacks she’d brought out for everyone.

“Please talk to me,” Steve mumbled into my hair.

“Don’t want to,” I slurred out, closing my eyes and breathing him in. My actions didn’t match up with my words and I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Well then come here,” he sighed, grabbing me under my knees and pulling me into his lap. He rested me against his chest, holding me snugly, letting me get as cozy in him as I wanted. “Talk to me when you’re ready.”

If I’d been sober, I would’ve worried about cuddling with Elaine’s boyfriend right in front of her, but I wasn’t. I did spare her a glance, though, and she smiled at me. Strange. She didn’t seem to care at all.

“Shouldn’t you be snuggling with Elaine over there?” I whispered to him, my face nestled in the crook of his neck.

He pulled a blanket from beside the armrest and tucked it over me as he responded, “Let’s talk when we’re sober.”

“Wan’ talk now,” I hummed.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Grace. The closest thing I have to a girlfriend is you.”

“But y’kissed her and you never kissed me,” I pouted. I don’t know whether my attitude came from sleepy delirium or intoxication.

“You’re right,” he nodded, leaving it at that.

“Y’could if you wanted to,” I breathed out as I drifted off into sleep.

I woke up in the passenger seat of the car. Robin was driving, and I looked around frantically for Steve before realizing I was in his lap.

“Oh, hi,” I mumbled.

“Morning, sunshine,” he smiled, “Go back to sleep. I’ll make sure you get in bed safe.”

“I don’t wanna go back to sleep,” I whined, leaning up.

I glanced in the back seat. Johnny was on one side, half asleep leaning on the window. Tate was in the middle, texting someone, and Drew was on the other side with Natalie passed out on his lap.

“Why’s Robin driving?” I asked curiously.

“He didn’t want you sleeping on anyone else,” she smirked at us.

“Oh,” I didn’t know what else to say to that.

He ran his hand through my hair, playing with the strands, twisting them between his fingers.

“That feels good,” I hummed, leaning into his touch.

“Yeah?” he asked as he kept going, tugging the strands a little harder.

“Mmhmm.”

“Get a room,” Tate coughed from his spot in the back, and we all giggled.

Finally, Robin pulled into the parking lot of our dorms.

“Come on,” Steve sighed, opening the car door and helping me out. His hand stayed at the small of my back as he walked me to the door, steadying me when I swayed slightly.

“I’m gonna have the worst headache tomorrow,” I whined.

“Probably,” he laughed, helping me up the stairs.

Robin cleared her throat, “I’m gonna go upstairs and let you guys… talk.” We nodded and watched her go, then turned back to each other.

“I should probably go up, too,” I mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Okay,” he nodded, but he didn’t let go of me. “I want to talk to you about -“

“I don’t want to talk about Elaine, Steve. Just go.”

“But-“

“No. I’m still drunk and I’m tired and my heart can’t take much more tonight so please just go and we’ll talk about it another time.”

“Grace,” he started, and I could tell he was frustrated, but I was too. It sucked walking up on him lip locking someone else. I didn’t want to listen or get over it yet. Any explanation he had wouldn’t be good enough for me, after all, what excuse is there to kiss another girl if he liked me? The only explanation was that he wasn’t into me, and he was trying to let me down easy. Or trying to have both.

“Stop,” I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away slightly, “I said another time. Please go.”

He watched me for a few seconds, waiting for me to change my mind, but I didn’t. I wanted him to go. For the first time, I wasn’t lingering or giving him that look like he could kiss me if he wanted to.

“Okay. Just take my number in case you need anything tonight.”

I nodded slowly, handing him my phone. He inputted the digits and handed it back, then let me walk inside in peace. I made it all the way upstairs before finally freeing my emotions, and the alcohol in my system caused them to spill out of my eyes.

“Oh, Y/N,” Robin sighed, walking over to sit by me.

“I am so over Steve Harrington,” I huffed.

“You didn’t even hear him out?”

“It doesn’t matter what he says, it’s not gonna wipe the image of them kissing out of my head.”

She nodded, staying up with me a little longer before we both nodded off.

The next morning, I woke up to a message from Steve. Apparently he’d called himself from my phone so he’d have my number too.

Good morning. Just checking on you. You feel okay?

I read it over and over before turning the phone off, deciding not to respond. I could feel my head pounding and I couldn’t take extra stress.

I got up, preparing to go get some water from the vending machine, but when I opened the door I saw a convenience store bag on the outside handle. I opened it to see advil, water, and powerade, along with a note scribbled on the receipt.

“Figured you might need this.

Let me know if you need anything else.

Steve.”

My heart grew as I paced back in the room, sitting on my bed. I texted him to thank him, then fell back to sleep with medicine and hydration in my system.

• The Next Class

I ignored Steve for the rest of that day. I suppose seeing him kiss someone else made the walls build up around my heart, but all I knew for sure was that he couldn’t get through anymore. Of course, I was still a bit sad. I liked Steve a lot, but we were better off as friends.

I walked to class the next morning, running a minute or two late but I knew Professor Chomsky wouldn’t care much. When I walked in, Steve and the guys were in their usual seats, and I took mine right in the center of them.

“Morning, Grace,” Steve absolutely beamed at me. I grinned tightly and politely in return, and pulled out my books, not bothering to respond. It probably seemed a little rude, but to me, it was what I had to do. “You gonna keep ignoring me? I screwed up that bad?”

I glanced over at him, “You didn’t screw up at all. We’re friends, Steve. I’m happy when you’re happy and if you’re happy with Elaine then I hope you guys work out.”

“Saturday night you were practically crying, and now you’re giving me your blessing and saying you want me to date her?”

“I was drunk. I’m not anymore, and yes, I want you to be with her. I’m sure she’s a great girlfriend. Just what you deserve.”

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed, “You really just want to be friends?”

“Yes,” I nodded curtly, turning to my books.

The other guys were looking at us curiously, like we were a soap opera playing right in front of them. They looked even more astounded when I walked out at the end of class without waiting for Steve. I felt horrible. He was the sweetest guy in the world. But clearly he liked Elaine more, seeing as she’s the one he made a move on, and I wasn’t going to stand in their way. I was sure it would get easier with time.

The next class I had with him went similarly. He tried to talk to me, and I brushed him off. I didn’t ignore him, I just didn’t entertain him, and I could tell it drove him nuts.

I could feel Elaine watching us, watching him. She must’ve been wondering why he was so wrapped up in me instead of talking to her. I was wondering that myself, but I let it go.

“Are you ever going to forgive him?” Robin asked as we walked out.

“I already did. It’s just not the same. I dunno,” I shrugged.

“I think you should hear him out. He’s bound to have an explanation for that kiss.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want to hear it, Rob. It happened and even if I decided to go back to how it used to be, I’d still see him kissing her in my brain every time he got close to me.”

“I understand,” she nodded, and we parted ways as she headed off to her next class. I, however, set off for my dorm.

“Grace!” I heard from behind me, and I sighed, knowing only one person called me that.

I turned around to see him sprinting to me, “I’m not letting you walk home alone.”

“Steve,” I sighed.

“No.” He seemed genuine, serious. “I care about you. Even if we’re just friends, I care about you. You don’t get to become one of my favorite people and then just cut me off. I’m walking you home. Like a friend would do.”

I stared at him for a moment, then nodded. Truthfully, I was delighted that he’d asked. I figured, with the way I’d treated him that day, he wouldn’t bother.

“So you and Elaine…” I started as we walked, genuine curiosity gnawing at me.

“Can we not talk about it?” he asked, and I nodded.

“Shouldn’t you be walking with her, though? How does she feel about our friendship?“

“Grace,” he warned, and I heeded, shutting up.

We made small talk the entire way, the awkward kind we weren’t used to. I hoped the “friendship” would come more naturally with time. After all, we’d been the best of friends for the entire two months since we met. And we’d never really been more than friends, so I wasn’t sure why this was throwing us off so much.

“Thank you for walking with me, Steve,” I said, preparing to walk away when he grabbed my hand.

“I really want us to go back to how things were before… what you saw.”

“I want that too, Steve. I just… can we forget everything and just be friends like we were?”

“Please,” he sighed, relief washing over him.

“But it can’t be quite the same. I don’t know if you realize how.. touchy, and close we are. Do you think maybe we could take a step back from that for a while?”

“If that’s what it takes to fix this, but I don’t want to. I hope you know that.”

“Steve, you have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s- well, she’s-“

“She’s what?”

“I can’t talk about it,” he ran his hand through his hair like he did when he was stressed.

“Of course. Well, when you’re ready to, we can go back to how it was. But for now, we’re just friends who don’t constantly sit by each other and hold hands and hug and walk together.”

“That’s fair,” he agreed, resigning himself to his fate.

With that, I left and we didn’t talk much for the rest of the day. He texted me, but I didn’t respond. I wanted him to get the picture.

• The Halloween Party

Another month passed slowly. Distancing myself from Steve was horrible. Every time the group hung out, he was agonizingly close, but I kept away and he respected my wishes and kept away from me, too. It almost itched, how badly I wanted to reach out and grab his hand. I thought it would become easier, but it didn’t. And the worst part was that the group wasn’t adjusting well to the new dynamic, constantly making jokes and comments about “me putting Steve in the dog house.”

Whatever had been going on with Steve and Elaine seemed to be over, they would chat but I never saw any PDA or even chemistry between them. In fact, she’d grown closer to Robin than anything, and when we would hang out, they would stick together. Natalie and Drew were a pair, and Steve would pack in with Tate and Johnny. I was sort of lonesome, but it was okay. Part of me wanted to just forget the kiss and go fully back to how it was, touching flirting and all. But as I told Robin, it was engrained in my memory and I didn’t really want him if he chose her first.

“Y/N,” Elaine snapped me out of my trance as we waited for class to start, all huddled up in our little group.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“I was telling everyone about my Halloween party. It’s gonna be you guys, and a few older friends I have in my other classes. Not, like, a banger, but definitely a crowd and a good time. Interested?”

“Of course, do I have to dress up?”

“Well it is a Halloween Party,” she rolled her eyes at me, laughing.

And that was that. We all planned to go. She was having it at her parents’ cabin, about 45 minutes away from the campus. Obviously, she couldn’t do it at her apartment.

The days leading up to it, Robin and I looked for costumes. She decided to go as Velma, and she tried to convince me to dress as Daphne but I suggested that Elaine be Daphne instead, and they both loved the idea. I had a costume of my own in mind.

I dug in the back of my closet until I found a black peasant dress that I’d had for forever. It was long sleeve, and the sleeves were lace and flared at the bottom. The cut was low and accentuated the way the corseted middle pushed up my chest, and the skirt flared out but still highlighted all my curves in all the right places. I paired it with some ripped up fishnets, black boots, and a funky witch’s hat I found at the Halloween store that also had lace lining it. It was perfect, maybe even good enough to get the kind of attention that would help me forget Steve once and for all.

When the day came for the party, Robin went to Elaine’s to get ready and I got ready alone. I curled my hair, did my makeup perfectly for the first time in forever, and finished the look off with red lipstick. Then I got dressed, and I was ready to head out the door when I got a phone call from Steve, whom I was supposed to meet outside of his dorm so he could drive me, Natalie, and the other guys there.

“Hey,” I answered, “What’s up?”

“Hey, just letting you know, don’t walk over. I’m coming to get you. Natalie is gonna take her car, and the guys are going with her, so it’ll just be me and you.”

“Okay, you headed here now?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in like two minutes.”

“I’ll be outside waiting,” I told him and we hung up.

When he pulled up, I was standing on the curb, all dressed up. My nerves were bundled up in my stomach, and I felt like I needed to throw up. What if he didn’t like my outfit? He’d never seen me so dressed up before.

He got out of the car and ran over to the passenger side, opening the door for me. I couldn’t miss the way his eyes scanned me, hungry and searching for every exposed patch of skin he could see.

He cleared his throat as he sat in his own seat, “You look….”

“Different?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Good.”

I smiled, sitting back. My nerves were still there, but they were eased by the way he couldn’t stop staring at me, glances out of the corner of his eye giving him away as he began the drive.

“What’re you supposed to be?” I asked, raising my eyebrow at his black t shirt and black jeans.

“I didn’t want to dress up, but Robin said I had to so I just picked up a ghost face mask.”

“Ghost face, huh? Chicks dig that.”

“That’s exactly what Robin said,” he laughed, “Billy Loomis does it for girls, huh?”

“I’m not telling you what does it for me, but nice try.”

“I see the new look comes with a new attitude.”

I blushed, covering it up by staring out the window. We were doing so well, just being friendly. Why was he suddenly flirting now? And why was I flirting back? I told myself to get a grip, and stayed silent for a moment, so he turned up the radio, taking my hint.

The rest of the ride was filled with silence, heavy with tension. I felt like a rubber band about to snap, the glances he was giving me sending me into overdrive but I pretended I was fine, crossing my legs and staring out the window.

I opened my door before he had the chance when we pulled into the parking lot. There were a good bit of cars, and it seemed like a little more than a crowd. I suppose Elaine’s intimate hangout had accidentally turned into a party. Steve noticed this as well, placing his hand on the small of my back as we walked in together possessively but I brushed him off, walking over to where Robin and Elaine were sitting on the couch.

Robin must’ve been over the moon with all the attention she’d been getting from the older girl. Just by the way they were sitting, I could imagine her pulse racing. Elaine’s legs were thrown over Rob’s lap, her arms wrapped tightly around her neck. If I didn’t know them well, I’d assume they were a couple.

“Welcome to my party!” Elaine grinned.

“It did turn into quite the event, huh?” I chuckled, glancing around.

“One person told another person who told everybody, I guess,” she shrugged.

“Where’s the alcohol?” I asked her.

“Through that door,” she pointed to what I assumed was the kitchen. I walked that way, running into Tate and Johnny on the way, so they walked with me.

“You look hot, Y/N!” Johnny grinned wide as he told me so. He wasn’t being weird or anything, he was genuinely just giving me a compliment, so I grinned in return.

“Really, who knew you had this badass in you? Red lipstick and everything? Poor Steve must be having palpitations,” Tate laughed, and the other nodded.

“Steve and I are just friends.”

“That’s what you want, not what he wants. He loooooooves you, he wants to smooooooooch you,” Johnny sang, tapping his fingers together in a kissing motion.

“I think you’ve had too much too drink,” I scoffed, pouring myself a cup full of whatever looked good and leaving them to go back to the couch. The only open spot was beside Steve, so I took it, sipping on my drink.

“You’re not gonna make yourself a drink?” I asked him, and he shook his head.

“Put on your mask, dingus. It’s a costume party,” Robin reached over and poked him, and he rolled his eyes as he did as she asked.

He looked good. I could feel my heart begin to race as he turned to me, and usually it would’ve made me nervous, but I just felt powerful in that moment. I knew he thought I looked good. I wanted to use it. I wanted to make him burn like I had.

I leaned in close to him, “Wanna play psycho killer?”

“Grace-“ he started, but I cut him off.

“Can I be the helpless victim?” I placed my hand on his chest, my fingers brushing over where hair peeled through the top of his v neck. I almost felt him shiver. “Please don’t kill me, Mr Ghost Face. I wanna be in the sequel!” I trailed my hand down his chest, scratching him lightly with my nails. As I approached his waist line, he grabbed my wrist sharply, halting my movements.

“You think you’re cute?” he huffed.

“You think I’m cute,” I smirked. I pulled my hand away from him and got up, leaving him there basically panting as I walked away.

I found Johnny and Tate chatting with a couple of other guys, and approached.

“Oh, hey! Y/N! I was wondering where you ran off to!” Tate smiled, welcoming me in.

“Just went to mess with Steve,” I shrugged, glancing at the other guys. One of them had his eyes on me, and I took the opportunity.

“Are you friends with these guys?” I asked him, leaning in a little closer.

“Yeah, I stay in the same dorm as them,” the guy nodded.

“Oh, neat! I can’t believe I’ve never seen you before!”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Plenty of time to make up for it,” he winked at me.

“What are you doing?” Johnny whisper yelled into my ear, “Steve is watching you!”

“Steve and I are just friends. He likes kissing other girls so I’m gonna go talk to another guy.”

With that, I stepped closer to the mystery man. “Wanna dance?”

He nodded, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the center of the floor where people were dancing. He turned me around and I began swaying with him, daring to glance over at Steve. He looked furious, absolutely fuming at the sight of me with someone else. I was thriving off of it.

All of a sudden, Elaine pulled me away from him, pulling me closer to the couches. The guy protested for a second but Elaine sent him a death glare and he backed off.

“Why are you doing this?” she sighed.

“Doing what?”

“Dancing with him. Steve is right there. You’re breaking his heart.”

“Steve kissed you, Elaine. Even if you guys aren’t a thing, even if it didn’t work out or whatever and he likes me now, it happened and I can’t just forget that. He liked you more than me or he wouldn’t have kissed you instead of me and I don’t want to be second choice.”

“But that’s not what happened! Steve and I were never a thing!”

“Well he must’ve felt something, because he sure did swap spit with you.”

“It was a peck,” she rolled her eyes and huffed, throwing her hands up dramatically, “And I’m gay.”

My mouth fell agape, “What?”

“I never knew. I mean, I always thought girls were cute or whatever but I never had romantic feelings for them. Then I met Robin and couldn’t think about anything else. Excuse my bluntness, but I’ve never wanted to scissor anyone so badly. Steve is so easy to talk to, I completely opened up that night. I asked him if I could kiss him to see if I felt anything. To see if it felt right, and he said yes and believe me, neither of us felt anything. It was just weird.”

“So you and Robin are together now?”

“Well… I’m hoping we’ll get together tonight, if you catch my drift.”

“And Steve never liked you?”

“Of course not. Y/N, he’s been head over heels for you since he met you. He doesn’t talk about anyone else, he doesn’t think about anyone else.”

“Oh God, why didn’t I just hear him out sooner when he tried to talk to me about this? I’ve screwed everything up!”

“Look at him. He loves you, it’s all over his face. You haven’t screwed anything up.”

I stared at him for a moment before thanking her and heading his way.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, standing directly in front of where he sat so my knees bumped into his bent ones.

“Why didn’t I tell you what?”

“About Elaine. If I’d just known-“

“I promised her I wouldn’t say anything to anyone until she was sure.”

“Still, you could’ve-“

“You were so upset about me kissing another girl, nothing but the truth would’ve worked.”

“Steve,” I sighed, “If I had known-“

“What would you have done?”

“I would’ve- Well, I would’ve-“

I couldn’t even complete my sentence, he cut me off at the jump, leaning in and slotting his lips onto mine. I was startled for a moment but he didn’t stop, and eventually I kissed back, savoring every second like it was the last. He pulled away as if he wanted to say something but I didn’t let him, pulling him right back in by his shirt and wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands found my back, pulling me closer into an arch and wandering, ghosting over my waist line.

We were cut short by cheers coming from beside us, and we backed away from each other just enough to look.

“It’s about damn time, dingus!” Robin huffed, wrapped tightly in Elaine’s arms. I blushed, hiding my face in Steve’s chest, and he leaned down to my ear.

“Come with me,” he whispered, and I nodded.

He lead me to the backyard, where a lake was glistening in the moonlight. There was a lake house beside it, cute and cottagey, like something out of a story book.

“Elaine is letting all of us stay here tonight,” he explained, “There’s only three bedrooms, though. So she told me we could stay out here.”

“She just assumed I’d be staying wherever you stay?”

“I mean, be honest with yourself, Grace. Even if we were still just friends, you’d rather bunk with me than anyone else here.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I shrugged, following him through the door to see that it was immaculately decorated. It didn’t have a real fireplace like the house did but it did have one of those huge automatic ones, so he turned it on, warming the place up. It was one room, there was a bed in the corner, not huge but big enough for the two of us, a TV above the fireplace and a couch in front of it with some other furniture scattered about. There was a closet and a bathroom, as well.

“We left the party awfully early,” I observed, turning to him.

“I have a night in a lake house with you, and you think I wanna waste it partying?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” I smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer.

“I’m in love with you, Grace. I haven’t loved anyone in a really long time, and maybe never like this. And I know it’s quick, but I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too, stupid,” I rolled my eyes, pulling him closer until his lips met mine again and we fell into a dance of teeth and tongue.

He grabbed the fat of my hip, squeezing, the dress bunching up in his fingers.

“Fuck, Y/N, do you even know what this dress does to me?” he groaned, “Never seen you like this before.”

“I only bought it so you could take it off,” I rasped as his lips found my neck. At my words, he started sucking, leaving a mark I was sure would stay for days, and I moaned. Something about him wanting to claim me made me shiver, goosebumps littering my skin, my need multiplying.

“I can do that, baby,” he nodded, reaching behind me and pulling the zipper down slowly. He eased it down my shoulders, his fingertips brushing my skin and his eyes following their path. His irises got a little darker at the sight of the black lace covering my most sacred places, and he went ahead and undid the clasp of my bra, letting it fall with the dress.

“You look so pretty like this,” he sighed, staring at me for a moment, his gaze loving.

“Your turn,” I smirked, slipping my hands under his shirt and pulling it over his head. My fingertips clumsily attempted to undo his belt, and he stopped me, doing it himself one handed and throwing it on the ground. It was one of the hottest things I’ve seen him do. I let out a light moan, and he chuckled.

“Feel like a helpless victim yet?” he asked.

“You’re not wearing the mask, so no,” I shrugged jokingly, and he frowned.

“I can fix that,” he stated, walking to the table by the door where he’d set said mask. He pulled it on his head and my mouth fell slightly agape. He looked so perfect. So pretty.

“Want me to fuck you just like this?” he asked, and I nodded frantically. “Come here,” he grabbed my hips lightly, leading me to the end of the bed. He spun me slowly, “Bend over for me, baby,” he coaxed as he pressed on my back. I did as he asked and all I heard was a rip as he tore off the stockings, not worrying about my shoes.

I looked back to see him falling to his knees, then I felt his fingertips where I needed him most and I gasped. It was slow at first, just light touching, but I was absolutely dripping, desperately waiting for what I wanted.

“Steve, baby, please,” I whimpered, and he chuckled again.

“Anything for you, Grace,” he cooed, pushing one finger in. I let out a sigh and a moan, begging for more, and he obliged, pushing in another and eventually a third. Before long, he had a steady rhythm, pushing in and out of me in a way that had me ready to come apart.

“Please Steve, need it, need more, need you,” I panted, pushing back on him, reaching behind me to touch whatever part of him I could reach.

I heard a sharp zip as he undid his pants, kicking them off. His tip rubbed against my slit teasingly at first, then pushed in slowly, and I let out a shaky breath. He was huge, bigger than I’d probably ever had, and my walls were stretched deliciously. It didn’t help that I hadn’t done anything with anyone in a while. I’d been waiting for Steve since before I even met him.

“Please,” I whined, my voice a broken shell of what it was before he kissed me. He’d wrecked me already and hadn’t even fucked me yet.

“Here you go, baby. I’ve got you,” he sighed, setting a steady pattern of thrusts, hard and quick and perfect, everything I needed from him, His hands found my hips, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises, and I met him thrust for thrust pushing into him like a woman starved.

That lasted for a little longer before he pulled out abruptly. I whined, achingly empty, but he stopped me short by grabbing my hips and turning me over. “Scoot back,” he instructed, “I wanna see your pretty face.”

“I wanna see yours too,” I hummed as I did as he asked, scooting all the way to the top of the bed and laying my head down like a true pillow princess. He nodded, ripping the mask off and tossing it aside, and I gasped at him in all his glory. He was so handsome, hair a mess on his head, a slight sheen of sweat making him glisten.

He climbed up on top of me, grabbing my leg and putting it over his shoulder. He leaned down and captured my lips as he pushed in, and I groaned, the new angle putting him in just the right spot.

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” I whimpered.

“That’s the point,” he smirked, reaching down to rub circles on my clit as he fucked me harder. “Such a good girl, gonna cum all over me?”

I nodded frantically, wrapping my free leg around his back and pulling him in farther, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so perfect like this, taking it so good. Who woulda known my quiet girl could take it like this?” his words spurred me on, making me see stars as the coil in my tummy got ready to snap.

“Steve baby need to cum, please cum with me,” I gasped, clenching around him as I finally snapped, and he groaned. He wasn’t very far behind me, and we rode out our highs together, staring at each other when we were done like a couple of lovestruck kids.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” he whispered for only me, and I giggled.

“It’s okay, Steve. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t spent so long being jealous, this would’ve already happened.”

“I think it happened right when it was supposed to,” he smirked, kissing me on the forehead and walking to the bathroom. He wet a towel and brought it back, cleaning me up and then himself, then joined me in bed.

“Would you wanna, like, go on a date with me?” he asked, nerves clouding his voice.

I thought it over for a moment, leaving him in suspense.

“Of course. How about tomorrow?”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve smut #steve stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #steve x you #stranger things smut #ghostface!steve harrington #ghostface

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roseghoul26 · 30 days

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Chapter 4: Your Touch Brought Forth An Incandescent Glow

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: this chapter is super dialogue heavy and sets up a backstory for the reader so if this isn’t your cup of tea sorry. i need this chapter to set up the story later on lmao. also the title did use to be different if you noticed that lmao Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

“Have you ever shot a gun?”

You stared at Arthur, shocked. That certainly wasn’t the question you’d expect him to greet you with today. You stood in the entrance of your home, a soaked Arthur Morgan standing on the other side. “Well, hello to you too, Arthur,” you laughed. “Why?”

“‘Cause-”

A crack of thunder tore through the conversation, shaking the frame of your house. “Get inside, please. Before you die right out here on my porch.” You stood back a few feet, giving Arthur plenty of room to come in.

Water pooled on the floor as he stepped inside, the mat doing little to soak it up. “Sorry,” you heard him mumble, and you shook your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” Arthur leaned his head forward, and all the water from the rim of his hat hit the ground with a splash. “I’m goin’ to grab some towels,” you stated, backing up to the stairs. “Get yourself warm by the fire. And those boots better be off!”

Arthur said something in response, but you couldn’t hear him, already up the stairs. Grabbing an armful of towels, you quickly returned downstairs, surprised to find him still lingering in the entranceway. “Arthur? What’re you doin’?”

“I ain’t gonna stay a while-”

Another clap of thunder cut him off, like Mother Nature didn’t want to hear what he had to say. “Like hell you ain’t gonna stay a while. Have you been outside?” Arthur gestured to his currently soaked attire with a teasing grin. “Alright, stupid question, but my point still stands! It's horrible out there! At least try and wait it out a bit. Please.”

He had looked so adamant when he said he wasn’t going to be staying for a while, his face hard and determined, but it quickly softened when you asked him to wait it out, even more so when you said please. “Alright, darlin’.”

He began to undress, taking his jacket off first, hanging it up on the nearby coat rack. His hat and satchel were next, joining the coat on the rack, and he finally took his shoes off, which were covered in mud. More and more water hit the floor, the poor mat absolutely soaked through with it.

You had set a majority of the towels on the back of the couch, but you still held one in your hands. Walking over beside Arthur, you dropped it beside him, soaking up what the mat couldn’t. “Go stand by the fire,” you instructed, feeling slightly victorious when he did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him pick up one of the towels, wiping down his face and hair. He didn’t sit on one of the couches, instead choosing to sit on the rug in front of the fireplace. You were about to ask why, until you noticed the way his clothing clung to his body like a second skin, absolutely soaked, leaving little to the imagination. It was a kind gesture, to not wreck your furniture with rain water, but less than proper thoughts flashed through your mind as you observed him.

Of course he had to wear a white shirt today. You could see the muscles of his broad shoulders move as he continued to dry his hair, and you could see the way the muscles tapered down his back, powerful and entrancing to watch. You were just grateful, or disappointed, you couldn’t tell, that you weren’t able to see the way his jeans clung to his lower body.

No longer looking at him in your periphery, you tried to ignore the way your cheeks warmed as you watched him. “What’re you doing here?” You asked, hating how raspy your voice sounded.

Arthur looked over at you, confused. “It’s been a few days, hasn’t it?”

And it had been since his last visit. Your first dinner was almost a week ago, Arthur stopping by every couple of days like he promised afterwards. You’d chat, eat dinner, pay him, and then he’d be on his way. “I mean, yes,” you made your way over to him, grabbing a towel as you did so, “but I wasn’t expecting you to come today. I’d hate for you to get sick comin’ over here, and this late in the evening. Besides,” you glanced outside, “I highly doubt anyone’s gonna willingly come outside to cause problems.”

“Well, besides me.”

You laughed. “Are you here to cause problems, Arthur?”

“Well, that depends on how you answer my question. Have you ever shot a gun?”

Shaking your head, you responded. “Can’t say I have.”

“Then you’re gonna learn today.” Arthur stood up, discarding the towel on the floor.

“Wha- right now?”

“No better time than the present, right?”

“I think the present is an absolutely terrible time! I ain’t steppin’ foot out there.” As if to prove your point, thunder boomed, and Arthur sighed. “Why are you adamant about me learning to shoot all of a sudden?”

“Because I ain’t always gonna be around, and I couldn’t bear… I’d hate for somethin’ to happen to you. I wanna give you a way to defend yourself.”

“Oh… I see. Well,” you sat down by where Arthur had just been, “I ain’t opposed to the idea. I’m just not doin’ it right now. Let’s see if the storm’ll let up.” You patted the ground beside you. Looking up at him, you were met with the glorious sight that was Arthur in wet, tight jeans. You knew he was a large man, but it was always hard to tell when he wore loose jeans all the time. His thighs were huge, about the size of your head, and you wanted nothing more than to sit on them, to feel them beneath you.

When he sat back down, you could finally breathe. “I would offer you some dry clothes, but I don’t think I’ve got any that’ll fit you.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Arthur chuckled, “but you’re probably right. Besides, I ain’t so stranger to wet clothes. They’ll dry soon enough.”

You handed him the towel you��d been holding, and he took it with a small nod. Another roll of thunder shuddered the house, and you instinctively felt yourself moving toward Arthur, your shoulder brushing his arm. He didn’t make any move to create distance between you two. His wet shirt was kind of uncomfortable against your skin, but you couldn’t care less.

You watched Arthur’s eyes travel over the photographs again, this time settling on one of you and your family. You could tell he was brimming with questions, but he kept his mouth shut. You stood up, but you weren’t away from him for long, grabbing the picture he was looking at and sitting back beside him, your shoulder remaking contact.

“Meet the Van Burens,” you said, handing him the framed photo, and essentially consenting to any questions he might ask.

“Are those your parents?” He asked, pointing to the two older looking folks.

You nodded. “Raymond and Irene. Married for thirty some years.

“And the rest are…?”

“My siblings. I’m the eldest, 17 when this photo was taken. My brother, Joseph, was born a year after me,” you pointed to him in the photo. “Next was Margaret,” you pointed again.

You went through the rest of the rest of the photo in similar fashion, reading their name and identifying them in chronological order. The twins, Ruth and Ethel, were next, followed by Edward, Henry, John, Helen, and finally Bessie. Arthur had a slight reaction to the last name, body tensing slightly, but you didn’t ask him about it.

“And finally, Bessie. She wasn’t even a year old in this photo.” You sniffed, and you reached a hand up to your face. Hot tears were streaming down it, and a concerned Arthur was watching you. “Shit, sorry. I…. I miss them,” you explained through the tears. “I haven’t seen them since I got married.”

“Two years?” Arthur asked, shocked. You were shocked that he remembered, having only brought it up once back in Rhodes. You nodded. “You said they were up North, right?”

You nodded again. “Around Van Horn.”

“That ain’t too far, though.”

“You think if I could’ve gone to see them, I would’ve?” You laughed bitterly. “No, I ain’t allowed to.”

“He… he doesn’t let you?”

“No. Won’t even tell me why, either. And the worse part is, I have no way of even seeing them when he’s gone. If you didn’t notice, the only way to get anywhere for me is on foot, or gettin’ picked up by a stranger.” You wiped away another tear, but another just took his place. “And besides, I have no clue if they’re still livin’ in the same house, after all the financial troubles they went through.”

“Financial troubles?”

You forgot the general public didn’t know what you did. If anyone else would’ve asked, you would’ve shut them down, but it was so easy to tell the truth to Arthur. “Yeah, my parents went bankrupt a few years back, nearly lost everything. The house, the business, everything. So, for financial security, they set up my marriage with Hans. He gets a wife, and every month they get a substantial amount of money from him.”

Arthur didn’t respond for a good amount of time, your words processing in his head. His jaw clenched and unclenched, and there was an almost dangerous glint in his usually soft eyes. “Your parents allowed this?”

“My father was the one who married us.” You whispered. You realized that you’d never told another person your situation, and you looked at him with panic on your face. “No one knows that, though.”

“I won’t say nothin’.” Arthur promised, and you relaxed. Tentatively, you felt him reach his arm around you, settling on your waist comfortingly, pulling you into a side hug.You let him pull you into him, your head resting on his shoulder. The cold wetness of the fabric felt nice against your warm cheeks, and it hid the tears quite well.

He comforted you for a bit, hand soothingly rubbing your side. It took every ounce of self-restraint to not just climb into his lap and throw your arms around him. The idea of it was very appealing, though.

“If you got any more questions, I don’t mind answerin’ them.” You sighed. “I haven’t been able to talk about it before, so this is… therapeutic, in a way.”

“Do your folks know?”

“Know what?”

Arthur chuckled humorlessly. “That you’re absolutely miserable for ‘em?”

“I… Well, no. I wouldn’t want them to know, anyway.”

Arthur paused for a few seconds. “You’re probably one of the most selfless people I’ve met.”

You scoffed. “If this is what it feels like to be selfless, then I don’t wanna be anymore.”

“I don’t think anyone would blame you if you were selfish.”

You shook your head. “Maybe not. But every time I think I’m gonna try and do something I want, I feel so guilty. Insurmountable guilt, something I can’t just move past.”

“And… and what do you want?” It was barely noticeable, but his voice went lower.

You. “I want… I wanted to take over my family’s tobacco farm. I wanted to travel. I wanted to fall in love.” You laugh. “I ain’t so sure what I want now. Well…” you trailed off. Were you really about to confess to Arthur? “There is one thing I do want, but there’s no way I can have it.” The ring on your hand felt like fifty pounds.

He didn’t respond, just continued to rub his hand across your back and side. You took a deep breath, and even under the rain you were able to detect that distinct scent of him; gunpowder and tobacco. Your body couldn't decide if it calmed you or made your heart race faster.

“Do you have a family, Arthur?”

“In a way, yes.”

“In a way?” You repeated, confused.

“We ain’t blood, but we sure as hell act like a family,” Arthur explained. “There a group of us, twenty-somethin’ strong. Big group of outsiders, free from the clutches of society. Men, women, even a kid. We take care of each other. You met two of ‘em already, Dutch and Bill. Dutch’s the leader of our little group. He’s… he’s somethin’ of a father to me, as much as I hate to admit it.”

“That… that sounds nice,” you admitted.

“It has its ups and downs.”

“Do you have any photos of them?” You asked. Arthur stilled, and you regretted your question. “You don’t have to show me nonthin’ you don’t want to.”

Wordlessly, Arthur stood, first placing your family’s photo back where it was, then walking over to where his jacket was hung up, pulling something out the satchel he kept. As he sat back down next to you, you noticed he was holding a leather journal, which you honestly weren’t expecting.

“I ain’t got any photos… but I’ve got drawings.”

“Drawings?” You rested your head back on his shoulder. “Well, now I’m intrigued.”

“They ain’t anything good,” he prefaced, and he began to thumb through the pages. “Here.” Arthur tilted the journal to you, and your breath caught. On the left page was an absolutely stunning portrait of who you recognized to be Dutch, along with a paragraph of fast cursive, the same handwriting you saw on the thank you note. On the other page was a full body sketch of an older gentleman cleaning a gun, along with some sketches of a bear and a plant, which were labeled to be English Mace.

“Oh my God, Arthur,” you hovered your fingers above the drawings, following the strokes of the pencil, “these are beautiful.”

Because you were so focused on the journal in front of you, you missed the way that Arthur blushed at your praise. “You’ve already met Dutch, and the other man’s Hosea. Him and Dutch practically raised me.” His voice turned soft, like he was reminiscing.

Clearing his throat, he flipped through a couple more pages, halting when a picture of a younger man appeared. He had longer hair, about neck length, and two angry lines cut up from his jaw, covering his nose. Another angry line cut across his mouth, cutting through the shortly cut facial here. “John Marston. Grew up with him.” You noted the way his voice was short, like he was upset with the man.

“What happened to him?” You asked, pointing to the scars.

“Wolves nearly tore him apart. Me and Javier had to go rescue him. I don’t think I’ve gotta drawin’ of him.”

“That’s alright. Just show me who you’ve got.”

Arthur flipped the page. A woman was there, sitting on a rock. Even in the drawing, you could feel the rage in her eyes. Her expression, even though it was neutral, had such a deep feeling of grief and anger beneath the surface that it almost made you uncomfortable. “Sadie Adler. Found her up in the mountains. A gang known as the O’Driscolls killed her husband, kept her alive. Her house ended up burnin’ down, so we took her with us.”

That rage in her eyes made sense then. It was surprisingly familiar, too, as it was the same anger you saw in the mirror. “Was she who you were talking about earlier?”

It took Arthur a moment to remember what you were talking about, laughter shaking his shoulders when he did. “Sure, darlin’.”

Strange answer, you thought. “Is she… is she doin’ better?” Will I be able to move on from the events in my life?

“She is. Mad as a hornet’s nest, but she’s tough. Even goes out on jobs with us. One of the best thieves in camp.”

You felt a pang in your heart, and you realized you were envious of her. You wanted the freedom she had. “I wanna meet her,” you found yourself muttering.

Arthur chuckled. “She said the same of you.”

You both paused. Were you that important to him that he was telling his “family” about you? “You… they know of me?”

“Well, they kept wonderin’ where I was sneakin’ off to every couple of days,” Arthur explained, clearly not meaning to reveal that. “I didn’t tell ‘em too much, if you were worried ‘bout that.”

“I don’t mind. Just tell ‘em they ain’t allowed to rob me.”

“Oh, they know,” Arthur reassured, and you watched him thumb back to near the beginning of the journal. “I made it clear that you ain’t to be messed with.”

“You make it sound like I’m some tough outlaw,” you teased. “I ain’t even shot a gun yet!”

“Yet.” Arthur reiterated, setting the journal back on his lap. A man occupied the top left corner, and the rest of the two pages were covered in a sketch of a town labeled Blackwater.

“And you say these ain’t good…” you said, voice disbelieving. “Who’s that?” The man in the drawing had even longer hair than John, extending far beyond what was portrayed in the small drawing. A scar similar to a bolt of lightning streaked up his jaw, and another one cut through his brow.

Even though your tears had stopped, you still found yourself resting your head on the man’s shoulder. You couldn’t help the pleased sigh you let out when you felt his arm return around you, keeping you close. “That’s Charles Smith. Best hunter and tracker in camp. Nice guy, too. He joined us recently, surprised he hadn’t run off after…”

“After?”

Arthur sighed. You could tell he was debating telling you or not, but little did you know that he couldn’t say no to your questions. “After Blackwater.” Your eyes flicked to the sketch of the town. It looked peaceful enough, so why did Arthur say the name with such… disgust? Fear? Regret? You weren’t quite sure.

“That’s out West, right?” You’d heard of Blackwater before, and you knew that Hans would probably be traveling through it on the way to Tumbleweed. You also knew that it was no stranger to crime, large ones at that.

Arthur nodded. “It was supposed to be a simple job: rob the ferry and then get the hell outta town. ‘Course, things didn’t end up that way. Innocents were killed. We lost two of our own as well. One of ‘em was captured, too, but we got him back.”

“What happened?”

You felt him shrug. “I ain’t gotta clue. I wasn’t on the boat when things turned bad. We had to drop everythin’ and run. Law chased us out of the state. We thought we’d lose them in the mountains, but they found us once we left. Chased us out of New Hanover, and now here. Won’t be surprised if they pick up our trail soon.”

“Will you have to leave if they do?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur answered earnestly. “I hope not.”

“Me neither.”

It didn’t feel right to speak, so neither of you did. Arthur simply pulled you closer, and his head practically rested atop yours. You swore his lips brushed the top of your head in a kiss. Rainfall filled in for your voices, the occasion clap of thunder growing softer and softer as the storm progressed. You were so at ease, probably the most relaxed you’d felt over the last two years laying against him like this. He was so warm, his soaked shirt slowly becoming dry, and the fire wasn’t helping you keep your eyes open. Tiredness washed over you, which wasn’t too unexpected because it was already nighttime. You yawmend, and you felt Arthur chuckle. “Go ‘head and rest your eyes, darlin’. I’ll be here.”

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you woke up in your bed the next morning. Sitting up, startled, you saw that you were still in your clothes, simply being placed under the covers. Glancing around, you saw a small piece of paper, presumably ripped from the journal Arthur had shown you yesterday. Grabbing it, you cleared sleep from your eyes, and it took a few moments for the words to become understandable.

Next time you’ll learn to use the gun. Have a good couple of days, darling.

There was something written below it, but it was heavily scratched out, and you weren’t able to make any of it out.

Smiling, you leaned back down on the bed, clutching the note to your chest. A small laugh left you, pure happiness radiating from you. It was insane that this man could get you like this just from a small note.

That giddiness was instantly replaced with dread when you imagined how Hans would react if you were to see the note. You’re not sure what would freak him out more; you using a gun or the fact that Arthur called you darling.

Getting out of bed, you grabbed the lockbox hidden beneath, opening at setting on the bed. There were still some bills left, but there was plenty of room to set the note in. It was then you remembered that you hadn’t paid Arthur at all. Next time he came over, you’d give it to him. Remembering the other note you had from him, you quickly grabbed it, setting it in the lockbox as well. With one final glance, you closed it, tucking back into its original spot.

You got ready that day with a grin on your face.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next couple of days were filled with menial tasks and garden visits. You wished you had a book, cards, something to pass the time that wasn’t laborious tasks. The lower floor had never looked so clean, though, so there was that.

It had been two days since Arthur had carried you up to your bed, and he would be coming over any day now. Even if there wasn’t anything romantic between you two, you loved having him over, getting close with the outlaw. Your loneliness had never been so far away.

There was a light knock on the door, and you heard your name being called from the other side of the door. You set aside the stitching you were doing, your hands shaking slightly and a smile growing on your face.

“Hello, Arthur.” You greeted the man as you opened the door.

Arthur was resting his hands on his belt, a warm smile on his face that had you melting. “Hello, darlin’. You ready?”

You stared at him blankly, completely forgetting what he had planned for you for a moment. “As I’ll ever be,” you sighed, getting your shoes on. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Are you doubtin’ me?” Arthur joked, extending a hand to you once your shoes were on. “I promise you won’t get hurt.”

You snorted, taking his hand. “I ain’t afraid of getting myself hurt. I’m more afraid of what I might do to you.”

Arthur led you out of the house, continuing to hold your hand even after helping you down the stairs. He only laughed at your words, shaking his head as he did. He led you away from the house, away from his horse tied to the same tree as before, into the woods near where your garden was. A large tree stump was there, and about ten bottles that Arthur put out littered the top. Your hands were now no longer shaking from excitement over seeing Arthur. Instead, anxiety over firing a weapon caused them to shake, and you hoped he couldn’t feel it.

He let go of your hand, and he unholstered his weapon, holding it towards you by the barrel. “First rule,” he said when your hand rested on the grip. “Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire. Nothin’s worse than a misfire.”

You nodded, fully grabbing it in your hand. He let go of it, and you weren’t expecting how heavy the revolver actually was. It wasn’t unbuildable, no, but it definitely had a weight to it that would hurt your wrists after a while. “Second rule. Only aim it at folks that need hurtin’.”

“Do you follow these rules, Arthur?”

He hesitated. “No. But you should. You don’t wanna end up like me.”

He moved around you, so that his chest was barely brushing your back. You felt his fingers brush the underside of your arm, signaling for you to raise your arm. It shook slightly as you raised the weapon, but no longer because of nerves.

“Bring your other hand up like this,” he moved so that you could see what he was doing, and you copied the action, wrapping both hands around the gun. “Got more stability like that,” he explained, moving back behind you. “Make sure to keep your arms all the way out. And spread your legs a bit.”

Doing as he asked, you heard him hum approvingly, low and right next to your ear. You had to suppress a shiver. “You see those two iron bits stickin’ up at the end of the barrel? You're gonna want your target in between ‘em. When you’re ready, you’re gonna pull the hammer back,” he tapped it with his finger. “Then squeeze the trigger. Just… brace yourself.”

Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the way his hands rested on your shoulders, you pulled the hammer back with your thumb. The stretch was uncomfortable, and it took a few tries before your finger eventually caught it.

Click.

“Very good,” Arthur praised almost nonchalantly. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’.”

Bang!

The birds, which had been peacefully minding their own business, scattered out the trees, cries of warning leaving them. Your ears rang, mainly because of the gunshot, but also because of the continued words of praise spilling from Arthur’s lips. You were nowhere close to hitting the bottle, hitting the stump below them, but you were still proud of yourself for hitting something that wasn’t alive.

Exhaling shakily, you lowered the weapon. The recoil was worse than you expected, and you could already feel that your wrists were going to be hurting later. “Both of us are still alive, right?”

Arthur laughed behind you, and you could feel the way his chest shook. “Very much so. You did good.”

“Thank you,” you replied breathlessly. “Does it always take that long?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“This,” you gestured to the revolver. “Feels like it took an hour before I shot.” Turning to him, you followed the same way Arthur handed the gun to you, you grabbed the barrel, presenting the grip to him. “Show me.”

Cautiously, he took it from you. “What?”

“I wanna see you shoot.” When he didn’t move, you deflated a bit. “Please?”

Arthur sighed, but you saw a small smile tug at his lips. “Fine. Here, move back.”

Moving so you were behind the man, you waited with bated breath. Only Arthur’s eyes moved, flicking across each target with speed, like he was pinpointing exactly where they were. The revolver hung loosely in his hand, an air of casualness about it, like the gun was just an extension of his arm.

Four shots rang out, faster than you expected, and you watched four of the bottles shatter. The whole action couldn't have been longer than two seconds, and if you had blinked, you would’ve missed it. He aimed the gun still with one hand, the smoke of the barrel intertwining with his arm.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “That was…” Hot. “Incredible.” He didn’t respond, but you watched as he twirled the gun around his finger before holstering it. “Alright, now you’re just showin’ off.” You laughed, returning to Arthur’s side.

“Hey, you asked,” Arthur defended.

You rolled your eyes. “Alght, before I go inflatin’ your ego more, can I try again?”

He handed you the gun, and you found that you weren’t as nervous as the first time. “There’s one round left. I’ll show you how to reload it once we’re done.”

Nodding, you returned to the position he showed you, and even though you didn’t need his support, you felt his hands brace your shoulders. The warmth of his hands were distracting, and you quite literally had to shake yourself out of it.

Bang!

You were starting to get used to the noise it made, your ears not ringing as badly as they were before. This shot still didn’t hit a bottle, but it hit the stump right next to one. You’d take that.

“Look at you.” His face was right next to your ear, low timbre shaking you to your very core. God, his voice should not be doing these things to you. “You’ll be hittin’ those in no time.”

“You think?” You didn’t dare turn your head towards him, knowing it would then be inches away from his own. You don’t think you could stop yourself from kissing him then, guilt be damned.

Arthur nodded, and you could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife. He breathed deep, like he was trying to calm himself. “C’mon, lemme show you how to reload the thing.” Stepping away from you, what should’ve been a warm breeze felt freezing against your skin, no longer feeling the warmth of his body. Turning, you saw Arthur begin to head back the way you came. You were able to sneak your hand in his before he moved too far away, walking along beside him.

A bit shocked, Arthur glanced at you, looking down at your intertwined hands, but he made no move to separate them. Instead, he smiled gently, and he brought your knuckles up to his lips, kissing them gently. With the gun in your other hand, the two of you walked back, not saying a word. It’s not like you would’ve been able to hear him anyways because of how loudly your heart was beating in your ears.

Arthur’s horse’s ears perked up when he noticed your arrival, but otherwise seemed undisturbed, the recent loud noise seemingly not bothering him. It made you wonder how used to gunshots the creature was.

Arthur led you to the horse, and he sniffed curiously at you. You couldn’t help the slight flinch, not used to being around horses. “He won’t hurt ya,” Arthur reassured, pulling his hand away to grab something from the saddlebags. “He acts like he’s tough, but he’s a real softie.”

“Sounds like his owner,” you teased, and you heard Arthur scoff. You reached out a hand for him to smell, and you watched him meet you halfway. His nose was wet, and you felt him nibble at your fingers, making you laugh. Moving your hand away from his nose you trailed it down his neck, petting gently. “You not all that mean, ain’t you? You just need some love,” you cooed at the horse. “You’re a good boy, ain’t you?” You pet his neck a few more times. “What’s his name, Arthur?”

You didn’t get a response, so you turned your attention toward the man, stilling your petting. “Arthur?” He was facing towards you, something in his hands, but he had stilled, completely silent.

He cleared his throat, and you swore you saw the beginnings of a blush form on his cheeks. “Sorry,” he rubbed at his neck. “His name’s Bear.”

You didn’t think much of his behavior, moving your attention back to Bear. “Bear?” The horse responded immediately, acknowledgment flashing in his eyes. “Ain’t you a good boy, Bear. Oh, yes you are.” You spoke like you would to a dog.

Eventually, you moved away from Bear, and you saw him follow you with his head. “Sorry,” you apologized to Arthur, having forgotten what he’d brought you over to do.

Arthur shook his head, smiling and laughing. Yeah, he had definitely been blushing, his ears still tinted pink. “Are you done spoilin’ my horse?”

“For now.” You stepped closer to Arthur, handing him the gun. “What does he like to eat?”

“Bear?” Arthur shrugged. “Most things really. Grass, hay, apples, carrots. He loves peppermints, though. Goes crazy for ‘em. Why?”

“No particular reason.” You tried to be nonchalant, like you weren’t totally planning on buying some the next time you were in town.

“You tryin’ to steal my horse from me?” Arthur asked, setting what you saw to now be ammunition in his hands on the saddle, taking a step towards you, making you tilt your head back farther to look at him.

You stuck your chin out defiantly. “Maybe.”

“I don’t much appreciate that, darlin’.” You knew he was teasing you, but his voice had dropped dangerously low, and in any other context would’ve sounded threatening. He was so close now, holstering the gun back on his belt, and you felt your confidence falter as he stared you down.

“What’re gonna do about it, then?” It came out as a whisper, but at least it wasn’t shaky. You maintained eye contact, even when he moved closer, his chest bumping into yours. One of his hands slowly held the side of your face, like he had done when he wiped the dirt from your cheek. His other hand locked on your waist, tugging you impossibly close, and you sucked in a breath.

Those beautiful blue eyes danced over your face, settling on your lips, an unspoken question spoken. You nodded, the movement barely noticeable, but you didn’t trust your voice. His thumb brushed the apple of your cheek, and he tiled your head back a bit more. Arthur leaned forward, and you felt his hat brush against your head, knocking it back slightly, but it didn’t deter him.

His lips almost brushed against yours, and you could feel the air leave him as he almost closed the gap, until a loud calling of his name had him snapping his head up. His hat nearly tumbled off his head, and he caught it using the hand once caressing your face. The voice was familiar, but you couldn’t see who it came from, the form of Bear blocking the speaker.

Once the initial shock wore off, you could practically feel the annoyance and anger from Arthur. “What?” He growled out, and you were thankful that his head was turned so that he wouldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed.

“Where are you, son?”

You recognized the voice now: Dutch. Why he was here, you had no idea. Exasperated, Arthur looked at you, an apology on his tongue. You silenced him with a kiss on his cheek, his beard tickling your lips when you made contact. His hand tightened where it still held on at your hips, and felt him sigh, both pleased and irritated. Leaning your head back, you answered for him. “He’s by the house.”

Arthur let go of you now, taking a step back and creating an appropriate amount of room between the two of you. “Good evening, Mrs. Kerrigan,” you heard Dutch respond, and you and Arthur stepped from around the horse and walked to the front porch.

Dutch came riding into your homestead on a beautiful white horse, and another man followed behind him, hat over his face, so you couldn’t get a glimpse of his features. “Good evening, Dutch. Is there something you need?”

“We need to talk to you,” Dutch responded, and you blinked back, confused. You glanced at Arthur, and he just sighed. You could tell he was still frustrated, though, because he practically glared at the other men as they got off their horses.

“Me? You sure you don’t mean Arthur?”

“Both of you,” the stranger responded, taking off his hat and keeping it with his horse. He was an older gentleman, probably in his mid-fifties. As he turned to you, you recognized him instantly from one of the drawings: Hosea.

“This here’s Hosea,” Dutch made his way over to you and Arthur, Hosea following closely behind. “You see, me and him have a proposition for you, Mrs. Kerrigan. And Arthur, I suppose.”

“Okay.” You drew out the word. “What is it?”

“It involves your husband,” Hosea chimed in. “We’d like your help.”

“And I’m glad to provide it, if you tell me what’s goin’ on.”

“Mrs. Kerrigan, are you aware that your husband is runnin’ a moonshine business?”

Author's Note: i swear they’ll kiss eventually don’t kill me

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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heyitsspiders · 3 months

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Lucifer x Transmasc! Reader - Falling for the Fallen Angel - Chapter 1

Meetings

You died and are in Hell. You were a chef in life and you figure out how to use that to get yourself a job at the Hazbin Hotel.

a/n originally posted on my ao3, no use of y/n

You awake as your plush mattress melted away and was replaced with the hard asphalt. You quickly sit up and rub your eyes. What lay before you was a city that felt like any other city but.. Off. The buildings were a little too crooked, and some had horns. Not to mention the looming red sky above you with two spheres in the sky, one a darker red and the other an angelic white. Where were you?

Before you could continue to ponder you were shoved out of your thoughts as an explosion left your ears ringing and you went to cover them.

What.

What the fuck.

Why are your ears huge and on the top of your head? For that matter, why were you blue? Were those wings -

Another explosion boomed in the distance, sending another pang of pain throughout your body. You shakily stood on unfamiliar feet and ran. You didn’t know where you were running but you just needed to get away . You ran and ran, your heart pounding in your ears as you rushed to a quieter part of the city. Your body ached as you continued to shove past the pain, not stopping until the noise stopped and the city lights died down.

You panted, your hands on your knees as you leaned over and coughed and wheezed. You hadn’t run like that in ages. You swallowed hard, your throat feeling like the desert as you looked up. You were met with a towering hotel with a flashy sign that read, “Hazbin Hotel.”

A hotel? Well, it seemed way more peaceful than where you just came from, couldn’t be that bad. You continued to breathe heavily as you hobbled your way to the front door and knocked, pleading silently that someone would answer that didn’t want to blow you up. Fortunately, when the person on the other side opened the door they didn't blow you up.

Unfortunately, she did hold a spear to your throat. You win some, you lose some.

Your hands shot up as a sign of peace and smiled nervously. Not the most welcoming way to be greeted but considering what you had experienced so far, this was tame. She was gray and looked more human than you did, which felt weird. She had lighter gray hair over one of her eyes, a red X on top. She glared at you with intense hatred. This was already very interesting.

Another taller person in a red suit noticed the two of you and walked up behind the threatening woman. She was pale white with rosy cheeks and blonde hair, a smile plastered on her face as she made eye contact with you.

She lowered the spear that the other held and greeted you with a smile, “Hello! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

You were taken aback with how cheerful she was. You looked around for a moment, considering whether or not this was a trap before speaking, “Hello! Uhm, where.. Am I?” The two looked at each other before the taller one awkwardly smiled, “Why don’t you come inside first?” “Oh, alright”

She led you into the hotel, which felt quite homely all things considered. The interior was nicely decorated with furniture and plants. There was also a portrait of three people, one of them looking like the one leading you right now. She sat you on one of the plush red couches that was set near an old TV.

She seemed visibly nervous as she spoke, “Okay, so, you are um.. In Hell!” She laughed awkwardly before continuing, “Welcome..?”

You looked around again, “I died? I don’t remember dying..?” You mumbled, now in deep thought. The more you thought, the more your head hurt, so you gave up. You didn’t really care that much. Not like you had much going for you up there.

“Huh,” You shrug your shoulders, “makes sense.”

You extended a hand, “I’m Twist.”

She seemed taken aback by how quickly you got over being dead and in Hell but she smiled and took your hand, “I’m Charlie!” She grabbed the shorter one by the shoulders, “And this is my girlfriend, Vaggie!”

You offered your hand to Vaggie but she didn’t make any motion to greet you, other than glaring at you. You cleared your throat awkwardly, “So, what’s up with this place?”

Charlie looked like she was about to explode before Vaggie gently put a hand on her shoulder. Charlie took a deep breath before “calmly” explaining her plan to redeem sinners. You crossed one leg over the other as you listened. It sounded interesting, but not for you.

“Sounds neat but I don’t think I’m too interested in being redeemed.”

Charlie’s mood dampened at this and you quickly added, “-But! I could work for you. Like, uh, I can cook!”

Charlie’s eyes sparked again when she heard this and started vibrating in place, squealing with happiness.

“Yes yes yes! It’s perfect! You can be our hotel chef!” She hugged you quickly and then grabbed your hand, dragging you.

“Come, come! You need a tour! Oh oh, this is the bar and the bartender! Husk!” She waved a hand to the bar where a gray cat dressed like a magician, Husk, grimaced at you. How charming.

She introduced you to the other hotel residents and staff, Nifty a short – and creepy – cleaner, an awkward snake guy Sir Pentious, a tall, red, deer, radio guy, Alastor and a white and pink fuzzy spider, Angel Dust. It was certainly a group of people. Not one you expected to see living in the same place, though you guess that's the point.

She led you down a hall and turned to a door, “This is your room!” She said as spread her arms to motion to the room before you.

Your eyes widened in awe as you walked in. It looked so comfy. There was a bed against one of the walls, a side table with a lamp that lit the room on one side. There was a dresser and an empty closet. The window peered out to the front of the hotel and you could see the city you ran from, faint smoke trailing in the deep red sky. There was a door on the other side of the room, which you assumed was a bathroom. It was sparsely decorated, which made sense, but still had a nice home feeling to it. You walked over to the bed, your hands running over the soft blankets and sheets.

You turned around to Charlie, “This is amazing.. Thank you so much, how much do I have to pay to stay here?”

Charlie waved a hand dismissively and laughed, “Oh no, don’t worry! You can live here rent-free, and in return you cook!”

Your eyes lit up, “Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I’ll be glad to cook for everyone here.”

Charlie smiled at you, “Okay, I’ll let you get some rest, I’ll show you where everything else is tomorrow. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight!”

As she shut the door behind her you fell onto the bed letting out a sigh. What a hectic day. You curled up in the bed and was reminded of your new body. You sat up and looked at yourself more closely. You looked like… A blue bat? … With lighter patches scattered throughout your body? But instead of having your wings be your arms, there were separate wings on your back. You flexed them, a weird sensation coursing through your body as you acquainted yourself with your new limbs. You sighed once more and flopped on your back, staring up at the ceiling. You rubbed a hand down your face, groaning. Your body ached and you decided it was finally bedtime, turning the lamp off with a “ Click! ”. You shifted under the covers, and got comfy, your eyes slowly fluttering closed, your mind getting quieter and quieter as you drifted to sleep.

You woke up to an alarm clock going off. You batted at it with your hand, groaning annoyedly. You had no idea where this damned creation came from but you wanted it gone .

When your blind hitting of the noise box didn’t work you begrudgingly opened your eyes and unplugged it. Alas, it was futile as now you were awake. You yawned and rubbed the sleep from your eyes before getting out of bed. You walked over to the window and looked out, the sky a brighter shade than the night before. You sighed, guess this wasn’t a dream.

When you walked around your new room again you noticed your closet no longer empty. You walked to it, a note being left on the hanger with a fresh, clean chef outfit.

For our new chef! We are so happy to have you here and I hope you enjoy your stay! I’m so happy you decided to work here and I can’t wait to work with you. Anyways, enjoy your new uniform! Of course you don’t have to wear this all the time but while cooking it’d be nice if you wore it. Tell me if it doesn’t fit!

Love,

-Charlie

You looked up at the uniform, admiring how clean and nice it looked. Before trying it on you walked into the bathroom and cleaned up, showering, brushing your teeth, the usual. Once you were dry and no longer felt filthy you tugged on the outfit, it fit like a glove. You took a deep breath. First day of work, don’t fuck it up.

You carefully walked out of your room, searching through your brain to remember where the lobby was. Eventually you made it and saw Charlie talking to Vaggie. Your echoing footsteps made her turn and smile at you.

“Twist! Goodmorning!” She smiled and waved. “How did you sleep? Oh! I see you found your uniform! Does it fit well?”

You nodded and waved back, “Yes, it fits great. And I slept really good actually,” you smiled.

“Oh I’m so glad!” Charlie clapped her hands together. “Alrighty, the residents will be awake in around an hour, so I’ll take you to the kitchen!” She grabbed your arm and dragged you once more.

She led you down a different hallway that eventually led to a spacious dining room with potted plants in the corners and two big windows on the side of the room. “This is where you will set the table,” She explained. “And over here,” Charlie said, drawing out the ‘e’ as you two moved through a door to the side, “is the kitchen!”

The kitchen was even larger, various utensils and cooking equipment scattered neatly throughout. It was also very clean, you could have sworn you saw it sparkle.

“Everything you need should be in here but if we end up missing something that you need, let me know!” Her smile never wavered as she explained your daily routine, a bouncing ball of light in the hotel.

You’d get a weekly menu of what would be made for each day and when breakfast and dinner were to be served. You would not be providing lunch as the residents usually were out by then, but you could serve it if you wished. All in all, it was a pretty sweet job and very doable. While you were still having a bit of trouble remembering your life, you did know you were pretty good at cooking and worked at a good amount of restaurants – that’s it though.

And that’s how it went for a while, you made breakfast and dinner and sometimes lunch if a lot of people were still at the hotel. You had a free room which you slowly decorated more to your taste until it was practically your own Heaven in Hell. You grew closer to the other hotel residents, Husk tolerated you, Nifty enjoyed how clean you kept the kitchen, you and Angel shared a love for shitty rom coms, Charlie enjoyed having another worker, Vaggie didn’t seem like she wanted to murder you at all times and Sir Pentious talked to you about whatever weird weapon he wanted, but wasn't allowed to, make. Alastor.. Well, he was still creepy but you could like, hold a conversation with him. Most of all, they all seemed to enjoy your cooking, which is what really mattered to you. You loved seeing how much they ate of your food, you worked hard and seeing the happy faces on these sinners made you feel accomplished.

This morning Charlie seemed rather distraught as she walked up to you.

“Hello Charlie! Is everything alright?” You asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She sighed and shook her head, “My father is coming over, I need to talk to him.”

You didn’t know much about Charlie’s family but you knew enough to know she and her dad weren’t close.

“I need you to prepare a bigger meal than normal, I want to show him that sinners can be good and therefore redeemed,” she explained as she handed you a list of foods that were to be made. “He’ll be here tonight, so that should give you plenty of time.”

You nodded to her, “You got it! I’ll make the best meal that he’s ever eaten, he’ll have no choice but to help you!” You flashed a toothy grin, hoping to rekindle her positive attitude.

It worked, a bit, as she smiled back at you before turning around and walking away, “I have to go get everything set up, good luck!”

You set off, looking over the list what felt like a million times, before you entered the kitchen and got to work.

After several long hours of work you were finally done. You wiped the sweat from your forehead before bringing the trays to the table. You set the table for each guest and laid out the dishes. You had finished just in time, you could hear the King of Hell enter and.. Butt heads with Alastor? Alright, not what you thought would happen but that’s Alastor’s grave, not yours.

You waited impatiently until it was dinner time. You watched Charlie bring in everyone to the dining hall and she introduced her dad to you.

“Dad, this is Twist! He is the hotel’s chef,” She said with a hand motioning to you.

You bowed, “Pleasure to meet you, your highness.” That’s how you greet royalty, right?

He waved a hand, “Oh please, call me Lucifer. Any friend of Charlie’s is a friend of mine.” He said, his voice sharpening as he side-eyed Alastor.

As you straightened yourself, you realized how short the King of Hell was. And you had to admit, he wasn’t bad looking. He shared many features with his daughter, the blonde hair, pale skin and red cheeks, but held himself in a more regal manner. Well, as regal as he could as he glared at Alastor.

You turned to the large table, “Tonight I have set several small dishes of honey garlic pork chops, lemon garlic butter shrimp, fried spring rolls, stuffed mashed potatoes with the main course of cedar-plank salmon.” You say in the most professional voice you can muster.

As Lucifer walked to a chair you were quick to pull it out for him and sat him. He seemed caught off guard by this for a moment but quickly composed himself. You pushed in his chair as he sat down.

Once everyone sat down, they began eating. You stood off to the side, trying not to make it obvious that you were staring at Lucifer. He ate neatly, which you were thankful for as his white and red suit was making you anxious. You looked for any sign that he was enjoying it and luckily you saw that when he tried the salmon. His eyes seemed widened as he slowly chewed, taking in the flavor. He looked at you and nodded. You smiled widely and did your best to keep your composure.

When everyone finished eating, Lucifer, Charlie and Vaggie stayed seated and began talking.

As they talked about the hotel, Lucifer awkwardly avoiding stating his opinion, you grabbed the dirty plates and other dishes to bring back to the kitchen. You got to work cleaning the dishes. You filled the sink with warm, soapy water before rolling up your sleeves and grabbing a sponge. As you cleaned you could hear Lucifer and Charlie talk intensely before their tones changed. When you came back out to the dining room after cleaning and putting up the dishes in their place, they were embracing each other, Lucifer on the brink of tears.

“I’ll get you that meeting with Heaven,” He promised her as they pulled apart. “But I won’t be able to join you, will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie said with a reassuring smile.

“That’s my girl,” He said, his lip quivering for a moment before it was gone. “I’ll be around more often, I promise.”

And with that, he was gone, disappearing in a swirl of red.

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

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robberskisses · 4 months

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The boy next door pt 1

* cw: matty healy x reader, smut to come.

fic: you move to a new town as a shy catholic girl, but when you meet your new neighbour you know everything is about to change. This part is more of an intro to the story.

note: this is my first fic ever so my apologies if it isn’t the best!! Feel free to comment tips and suggestions for second partttyy

Pulling into the street your eyes open as a beam of sunlight hits your face, almost like your body knew you are rolling into the street you’d from now on call home.

As soon as the car parks your family springs out preparing for the moving van to soon arrive. Fresh, spring air is all around, breathing it in for the first time you scan the house for as much beauty as you can, feeling a sense of delight when you spot the attic has a bedroom with a pretty little French style window. As you admire it knowing it would soon be yours a loud crash sound comes from the home next door; “Whatever, I could never come home again for all I care”, a tallish dark haired boy stormed out of the home, he wore black jeans and a top that you can’t quite make out the text due to his pace. He seemingly just exited a fight, and rushed straight into white van parked outside, whilst letting out a sigh he looked up my way and made a smile I couldn’t tell the intention of, it seemed genuine but also felt like it was telling me stop being nosy and turn around.

You swiftly spin around with a feeling of buzz, hearing your parents already spouting out comments about him, saying they had never seen such behaviour, but truthfully, neither had you. You’d never seen a boy your age act in such a way to his parents, let alone seen many boys your age at all.

You softly run up the dark wooden stairs to the pretty loft room and claimed it as your own as your father follows, carrying up some of the boxes. You feel a sense of peace for a moment as you plan where everything would go, your fondest pictures, If you wanted my bed near the window or up against the wall for privacy, until you started feeling the sadness of what once was. This room felt perfect, but nothing could beat the old memories made in your old one, the people left behind, you wanted to embrace this new life it just seemed so hard when you didn’t want to move on from the old one.

After the furniture was moved in and you begun decorating setting up my sweet little picture frames and layed out all of my bedding and teddies, time has flown by and it’s now sunset, going to admire the pretty skies you swing open the little window doors when you hear a car pull up outside. Your mind immediately wandered to the boy you had seen earlier, hoping he did come home and didn’t mean what he said. You quickly snap out of it, why should you care? You start mumbling out loud all of the reasons he’s probably the worst boy of them all and that you know what’s good for y- ,a loud creek interrupts you. It’s coming from outside, you sneakily peer around where your bed meets the window and took a peek as the cold nights air blew against my cheeks. Stomping in, it was him. Right across from your bedroom was where he had his, seeing him throw himself on his bed, he looks up. You quickly snap your whole body down, praying he doesn’t see you, feeling my cheeks begin to get warm. You hear him get up and walk to his window, slamming it shut and closing the curtain.

What a mess. You just made a total embarrassment of yourself straight away, he must think a creepy little stalkers moved in next door. Grabbing your favourite stuffy, mittens, you tuck myself in, and say my prayers.

“Dear god, please don’t let any other interaction I have go like this, help me make friends and please guide me to happiness like you did in my last life, Amen”

Ringing the same tune it always has, your alarm clock goes off at the same time it always does, 6 am. However you are already up bright and early making sure your makeup is done to perfection and your rollers are taken out as carefully as possible. Frolicking over to your wardrobe you pick out the freshly steamed shirt and little blue skirt, your new uniform, and put them on. Grabbing white frilly knee socks, you were almost ready. You pull your curled locks into a neat ponytail, everything seems perfect. Four sprays of perfume, slipping into your little black heels, and your pink backpack sitting at the end of the bed you are ready.

Creeping downstairs quietly you don’t want to wake the rest of your family, as you leave you pull your steel white bike out of the garage. See, the real reason you are up so early, isn’t because you want to be on time, or as prepared as possible; it’s because you want to avoid leaving at the same time as the boy next door. Another interaction and this time it could be confrontation. Him approaching you shouting in your face about the feeling of being stalked wouldn’t go well with your plans of a good first day. So you thought ahead and were already biking to school at 7:06 am.

Pulling into the bike rack you feel a sense of pride, everything went according to plan. But it quickly comes to your attention attached to the church in-between your all girls school was something you had never ever laid your eyes on. St. Mary’s catholic boys school. One tiny town and it already felt like everywhere you went, he could be. You feel your eyes jittering around the entire area, slowly making your way to the steps. There. You spy him smoking with a group of boys. You are actually more shocked at the sight of fags than you are him and begin to feel yourself stun. Black curls turn your way. That same iffy smile shoots your direction. A girl beside you is just as stunned as you. “Did matty just smile at you? Do you know him or something?”, “Matty?” You confusedly respond. “Matt, Matthew whatever, why did he just smile at you like that?” Another girl adds. “He’s my neighbour, but trust me I don’t know why either” you respond nervously, what did this Matty have that made these girls shoot questions at me like I had just broken the law. The girls look at each other in an excited shock, and welcome you in with them, they begin to introduce themselves and talk about how Matty is on their minds 24/7 and how all the girls love to attend his gigs after school, how they all admire the way he has no care for religion at all, yet will sit in mass without saying a word.

Matty. Huh, someone that seemed so mysterious and so scary, seemed like just another person now you knew all of this. You had read about boys who put on facades and have egos bigger than the sun. That’s what fit Matty, the boy who lives to entertain, but you’d seen the way he really is. Storming around, leaving home without a care. He must love all of the attention, and that very moment you decided you weren’t going to give him anymore.

The class had ended and you skip along the long corridor linking arms with the new girls you had met, “Just wait till you see how moody he is in mass y/n, he’s sooo cool” Lacey says. “ I bet he pulls those faces on purpose to try impress you girls” you reply profusely. They all giggle in unison. “I sure hope so” Meagan says laughing through her teeth. The moment you approach the doors into the church, you all unlink and you notice the girls try smarten themselves up, you do the same until you realise it’s most likely to impress stupid Matty and the stupid boys. You find your seats and feel your eyes meet the same tall figure once again. He slouches into his chair pulling a little lighter out of his pocket flicking it once or twice. The boys around him converse and you see one of them whisper something in his ear in which he nods in response. You pull your head around and get comfy in the chair, looking straight forward instead, you were so above any of that.

As mass comes to an end, so does the school day, you say goodbye to the lovely girls you had just met and make your way to the little rusty bike rack it had all begun at. Struggling to unlock the chain around your tire, a familiar voice darts your way. “Need help with that?” You jump at the words and swiftly look at him. “What, I” you are at a loss for words, everything feels as it has changed so fast, and Matty speaking to you, asking if you needed help felt like the strangest thing you’d ever heard. “I was asking if you needed help, I’ve seen you tugging at that thing for the past five minutes” he says staring right down at you. “What are you watching me for?” You reply, immediately regretting and realising how ironic that was considering your thought process this entire day. “No, just noticed my new neighbour having troubles” he half smiles, “I’m matty by the way”. You pretend like you don’t know that, and that you didn’t hear half of his life story at lunch, “I’m y/n” you say staring back at him. He bends down and quickly unlocks the bike, getting back up with ease. “Thanks, I almost had it that’s why you got it so easy” you lie. “I’m sure you did” he replies followed by a void of silent awkwardness, as you stand gripping to your bike like it’s about to be stolen. “Hey uh biking from our street is a long ride, especially for a young girl like you, I could give you a ride, if you wanted” Matty asks in a kind tone that distracts you from the fact he called you a young girl, what does he mean young girl. “What are you 50? What makes me any younger than you” you dart back, “plus where am I going to put my bike if I get a ride huh”. “Sorry” he lets out with a giggle “your a tough one aren’t you” he smiles with more meaning than he ever has before, pointing at the van you saw yesterday and the fact it has a giant space at the back for your bike. “I guess a ride would be nice, thanks” you say feeling a little bad, he didn’t seem like the scary bad boy you made him out to be last night, or the egotistical maniac you decided he was during the day.

He helps you roll your bike into the van, then opening one of the doors for you to get in. As you comfy up in the passenger seat, you notice so many little CDs around the front of the van. George and Matty mix. Drive like I do stuff. Matty don’t touch mix. You smile lightly as he gets into the driver seat. “What’s all of this?” You ask him quite nervously, hoping it didn’t come off as rude. He starts grabbing the disks and pulling them into his bag, “those are nothing, just stupid stuff”. “Do you like, make music or something?” You pretend to figure out on your own. “Yeah.. I uh am in a band with some friends, we aren’t too good or anything” he laughs “but I think we are getting somewhere”, “that’s cool” you say meaning it, you’d never met someone your age who had so much going on. “We actually are doing a gig, this Friday, you should come” he looks over at you, “if you want to that is”. You want to say yes with all of your might but you know your parents would never let you. “And hey if your lucky I won’t make you bike I can pick you up again” he laughs to himself. “Sure, il think about it”, you respond seeing his smile slightly fade.

Pulling up at your house once again, he quickly gets out of the van, speeding up to open the door for you. “Thank you for the ride I really appreciate it matty” you say with guilt, getting your bike out carefully he looks your way, “anytime love”. Then once again your cheeks are burning and glowing pink, your heart is spiralling, making you feel things you’ve never felt before. Walking off with your bike you realise life has never moved faster, but the worst part of it all was even if part of you wanted something from this, it could never happen, not even if you wanted it really bad. Your parents, your morals, you wished maybe things could be different.

As the day comes to an end you slip into your white cotton pajamas, and take your wooden cross from your dresser to your bedside table, hoping it would mean something. You swing open your little window to admire the pinks and oranges of the sunset, and feel that sweet spring night air blow strands of your hair softly, someone else is approaching their window.

“Hello you” matty says to you smiling like that meaningful one he shot you earlier. “I feel bad for you, you can’t see the beauty of the sunset from your window, it must be all boring on that side of the sky” you say looking up at him. He looks up at you longingly, “I can see something beautiful, don’t you worry”. Your eyes meet his in a quiet, but not awkward moment, you feel your mouth smiling on its own. “So, have you thought about the gig yet, what would I be if I didn’t have the support of my own neighbour” he says in a sarcastic but somewhat nervous tone. “Matty” you look at him, “I really want to its just”, he looks over at you patiently, you breathe “My parents, they just, let’s just say they are most likely the total opposite of yours, truthfully your one of the first boys i’ve ever even talked to my age and it’s just”, Matty cuts you off wanting to talk eagerly, “I get it, I really do, but that’s no way to live is it” you glance sort of puzzled, “ I mean how much are you really getting out of life in there, alone, and respecting everything your parents tell you, that’s sooo 10 years ago” he jokes giggling. “I guess, I’m just a little scared that’s all”

“Alright” he says softly. You half smile, watching him suddenly exit the room. He walks back in carrying a set of silver metal ladders, under his right arm, grabbing something off of the table near him whilst he kicks the door shut. “What, what’s this im” you exclaim, “Get the other end for me?” Matty says in all seriousness. “No way your no way yo-“ you get cut off with the ladders coming your way. He bends his head like a losy puppy dog begging for help. You grab the end of the ladders, “hold on tight for me”, he laughs. Then just like that, the scary dark haired boy you feared only a day ago is crawling across metal stairs to your bedroom, after calling you pretty and spouting out one of the deepest things you’d ever heard. When he teachers your window he makes a quick stop, twinkling a little smile as you two become face to face. “Watch out” he drops into your room, “Shhhhh quiet!” You quickly exclaim, “My parents they” he places his finger over your lips shushing you. “Quiet, I got it” he says before making his way to the end of your bed. He beacons you over using the palm of your hand as you find yourself obeying him and sitting beside him. “This is a cigarette” he whispers, “probably the tamest out of any of the scary, rebelling your parents items” he whispers. You look at him with a scared expression, you had no idea how to smoke, let alone deal with the chance of being caught. “I can help you” he says softly. “Come closer” he says whilst also shimmying towards you. Moving closer you don’t take your eyes off of him, feeling your heart start to spiral again. “Open your mouth when I smoke, then breathe it in when I blow it out, okay?” He speaks wanting to really know if your fine. “Okay” you whisper back, waiting for him. He takes a puff, leaning in to shotgun the smoke to you. You inhale it, carefully, going back and forth from his big brown eyes, to the little beige cross on your bedside table., letting out a little cough.“Look at me, it’s okay”, he reaches over to the table laying the cross down. “The only moment is now” he says turning back to you. “How was that?” He asks. “That was okay” you reassure him and yourself, smiling at the fact you just did that. “Again?” He asks intently. You nod, and he takes another puff. Leaning in once more you breathe in Matty’s smoke, as he looks down. This time you think it’s gotten to you, you find your body leaning in and pressing your lips against his. Everything feels so safe for a moment. He places his warm hand on your cheek as the moment goes on, you slowly pull away, for the first time not regretting something as you feel heat in your cheeks again. He smiles at you, with slanted brows, as if he’s never been this shocked before. “Sorry”, you whisper, “I don’t know why I did that”, “You know there’s nothing to be sorry for” he looks at you honestly. He pulls you in, and you find yourself being tucked in, as he slowly pulls himself beside you. “Matty if they find out you slept here too, I’d be dead” you fear to him. “No one’s going to know, it’s not like gods watching” he quietly giggles to you. Like any sane person you feel a sense of doubt though, whilst Matty seems to be the most caring and kind soul you’ve ever met, you fear he is just using you and this will all end in tears. “You aren’t.. you aren’t just doing this so you can get more are you?” You whisper to him whilst lying face to face. “Hey, you kissed me little lady” he murmurs, “I do fancy you loads though, so don’t worry about me, I’d never try hurting you”

Pulling you a little closer you slowly drift into deep sleep, feeling the world go quiet for a little while.

#matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #smut

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sapphicforsarahh · 1 month

Text

best hands ive ever seen pt.2

ship: loubbie x fem!reader

word count: 695+

warnings: none, mention of sex but none (yet)

synopsis: You finally learn what Lou and Debbie want with you

After what seemed like the longest car ride, you eventually reached wherever these women were taking you. “Let’s go honey,” Lou taps your leg and urges you to get out. You do as you’re told and stand next to the car, waiting for the other women to guide you where you needed to be. Debbie smiles at you at walks towards an old building, which looks like it should be abandoned. “Is this where you’re taking me?”, you ask nervously. Lou chuckles, “don’t worry, its much nicer inside.”

Lou tosses Debbie the keys and waits for her to open the door, then you take a look inside. A massive loft, covered with expensive furniture, shelves stacked with records and racks cluttered with fur coats and empty hangers. “Do you guys live here?”, you ask, still inspecting the place. “Well, not so much anymore, it’s pretty much just where we plan,” Debbie explains, throwing the keys on a nearby table. “Plan?”, you question, sitting down on the sofa. “We should probably explain,” Lou sits down on the chair in front of you, Debbie adjacent. “Lou and I have been doing this for years, getting away with stealing and making millions from it. And Lou happened to find you, a girl with good hands,” Debbie explained, Lou nodding along with her. “Basically, we’re asking you if you’d want to be in the next heist?”, Lou asked bluntly.

You were shocked to say the least. That’s definitely the last thing that you were expecting from these two women. “I, uh. I’m not sure what to say,” you laugh out. “Well?” Lou teases, leaning forward, placing both her hands on your knees. You blush, obviously, and look at Debbie, hoping for some sort of support, but she just cocks her head and raises a brow. “S-sure,” you answer, unconfidently.

"Please doing business with you," Debbie shakes your hand. It was just now that the two women realised they never caught your name. "Oh, I'm Y/N by the way," you said, as if reading their mind.

-------

Over the coming days, you learn their body language and how they spoke to eachother. Lou was extremely flirty with everyone that she saw, apparently, and Debbie was there to apologise for her. You also noticed how much more intense the flirting had became. Both women teased with you and gave eachother a smirk.

One night, after the rest of the group had went home and Debbie had went to bed, it was only you and Lou up. She had poured you a whiskey with ice, however she had it neat. Her leg propped up on the table in front of you both, one hand held her glass, the other entertaining a lighter. "So, Y/N," Lou begins, her low voice helps to accentuate her accent. You turn her attention to you and also prop your foot on the table. "Are you single? Any lady we should be aware of," Lou jokes, sipping her whiskey and raising a brow.

You blush and hesitate to answer, Lou grows impatient. "So?", she pries. "Well, no. It's a bit complicated," you say quietly, almost embarrassed. Lou only hums in response, waiting for you to continue. "I've never really had a thing for girls my age," you practically stutter out. Lou's smirk was plastered across her face. "You have a thing for older women honey?", her lighter is soon thrown on the table and she moves closer to you.

Nervously, you clear your throat before answering, "you could say that." The older woman clearly notices the tension rising between you and decides to see how far she can go. "So, Debs and I, we've been talking," her veiny hand is palming your knee. You nod, thinking that it's better not to speak. "Would you be interested in joining us? In the bedroom?" Lou asks a bit too casually.

So many thoughts are going through your head. The main one being: yes. All you could do at that moment is nod. Lou simply hums before downing the rest of her whiskey, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead before whispering in your ear, "Stay the night, we have a spare room."

---------

Taglist: @mllkw33ds @isle-of-earle @chillinftladygaga @cordeliaswife @angelick1sses @gmtsu @thenazwife @ladysc @midnightlove30 @blanchettlovebot @bellasbaxters

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#fanfic #lgbt #gay #cateblanchett #cate blanchett #oceans8 #lesbian #lou miller #oceans 8 #lou miller x reader #debbie ocean #debbie ocean x reader #debbieoceanxreader #loubbie x reader #loubbiexreader #sandra bullock #sandrabullock

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months

Text

Carpet Burn

Benny Miller x Jack Mojave • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Santi's odd cousin comes for a visit.

A/N: This is just crack. I am so sorry. I'm using my normal tag list but please feel free to just ignore this (because I think the only person whose cup of tea this is, is me.) This is for @triplefrontier-anniversary event. Also, I blame @romanarose completely for this, as I made a joke about writing Jack as Santi's cousin ages ago.

Warnings: overuse of italics, oral sex (m receiving), swearing, I have not proofread this (I’m so sorry I just can’t look at it anymore), please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1835

________________________________

“Look, I know he’s weird.” Santi said, shutting the fridge door and holding out a beer for Frankie.

“Really weird.” Will added and Santi gave him a look.

“But he’s family.” Santi stressed, sighing a little.

“How is he related to you again?” Frankie took the bottle with a nod of gratitude.

He crossed his arms and shrugged. “He’s my cousin.”

“I thought he was your second cousin?” Will frowned.

“I thought he was your cousin once removed?” Frankie drank a gulp of the beer and pulled a disgusted face at Santi, he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I don’t actually know.”

“You don’t know?” Will put his feet up on the coffee table, leaning back to look at Santi and Frankie in the kitchen.

Benny gave his brother a look and pointed to his feet. “Bro.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if he’s my fucking second cousin or cousin how many times removed or what the fuck, kay?” Santi came and sat down next to Will, swatting at his legs.

“Ow.” Will laughed, “that hurt.”

“Good. Keep your feet off my table.”

“Look you made me take my shoes off, so I think-”

“Just because you're a savage who wears outside shoes in the house,” Frankie said, sitting on the armchair, “and who puts their feet up in other people’s furniture-”

“See?” Benny hissed.

“-without asking,” Frankie continued.

“It’s normal to wear shoes in the house.” Will countered.

“House shoes.” Santi said.

“Yeah, house shoes. Not outside ones.” Frankie took another swig of the beer.

“Outside shoes.” Will tutted, he turned to his brother. “Help me out here?”

“If you share a great grandparent he’s your first cousin once removed, if he’s the kid of your first cousin once removed he’s your second cousin.” Benny said.

Will pulled a face. “Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you?”

“I-”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, he’s just visiting okay?” Santi shrugged, crossing his arms and sighing.

“He staying with you?” Frankie asked,

“Hell no.”

Will snorts.

“I don’t think he’s that weird.” Benny picked at the label of his bottle. “I kinda like him.”

“Yeah, well, you only met him once,” Will cut in. “Me and Frankie have met him like 5, 6 times? Dude’s insane, always causing everyone brother.”

“He’s quirky.” Ben shrugged.

Will pulled a face. “Fish, isn’t he fucking insane?”

“I’m not getting involved.” Frankie took a long swig of his beer.

“Hey, that is my cousin, you know?” Santi gave Will a glare.

“Sorry, Pope.”

“Nah,” Santi grinned, “he is fucking insane.”

“You guys are mean.” Benny teased.

“Yeah, well, you love him so much, why don’t you hang out with Jack?” Will nudged him in the side.

“You know what, I will.”

And that was how Benny ended up hanging out with Jack by himself.

The original plan had been to grab a beer at the bar on 12th. But that had turned into four, then five, then six, then…

The guy was off his rocker, that was for sure. Benny knew that, but he kinda liked it too. He never quite knew where the conversation was going. Jack would throw in some quote from a philosopher one second, and then would talk about a tennis game the next.

“I don’t really watch tennis,” Ben finished his seventh beer, eighth? “You watch football?”

“Nah, too commercial, I’m not into all that capitalist shit.” Jack motioned to the bartender to bring over another set of drinks.

“Tennis isn’t commercial?”

“Not how I watch it brother, I only watch it in French.” He taps the side of his head. “They can’t advertise to me if I don’t know the language, you feel me?”

Benny paused, nodding and then frowning, “Why don’t you do that for the football then?”

Jack shook his head, “not the same brother, not the same. They got a way, you know?”

Benny did not know.

“A way of still getting into your psyche.” Jack tapped the bar to punctuate his sentence. “I’m not having it. Commercials are capitalism and ‘Capitalism is a social system based on the exploitation of the majority by a minority for their private profit.’” He took a sip of his beer. “Jean-Paul Sartre said that.”

“I thought that was Marx?”

Jack laughed long and hard, smacking Benny affectionately on the back. Benny smiled, his cheeks warm. His expression was infectious.

“Hoo-wee!” He wiped his eyes, “I thought I��d got you there for sure, kiddo. Brother, ah, for sure.” He grinned. “But you got me, caught old Jack didn’t ya?”

Benny smiled again, “nah, just, you know. Marx is pretty famous, I guess.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, brother, don’t sell yourself low if you gotta sell yourself at all. See, most people wouldn’t know, most people wouldn’t care.” He quickly moved his hand over his head, complaining it with a ‘zoom’ sound, “most common folk, straight over their heads, brother, or they just would be too Tiny Timmy Timid to say a peep.”

Benny nodded, a little bewitched by Jack when he talked. Like some snake charmer, slowly lulling him into a hypnotic state. “Well, you know.” Heat rose to his cheeks that he told himself was from the alcohol. “Guess I haven’t been hit so much in the head that I’ve forgotten everything.”

Jack nodded, taking another drink. “Very impressive all that fighting of yours, very impressive. But you could teach old Jacky a thing or two, couldn’t you? A thing or two about wrestling around.”

“Well, erm, I-”

“Course you could brother,” Jack patted him on the back again. He left his hand there for a moment too long, trailing down his spine instead of moving away.

“Yeah, sure.” Benny swallowed a little nervously. “So, erm, what’s your opinion on shoes on in the house?”

That was how he ended up back at where Jack was staying. The older man insisting that he ‘showed Benny Boy the house shoe rule in person’.

And, well, it would be rude to say no, wouldn’t it?

“It’s a nice place,” Benny said, taking off his shoes by the front door. “Air BnB?”

“Nah,” Jack shook his head. “I don’t go in for all that, fine when it’s people renting their house because they’re on holiday themselves or something, sure. But not when it’s just jumped up landlords buying up properties.”

“Erm, yeah.” He hadn’t really answered the question. Benny wobbled a little as he took off his trainer, the alcohol buzzing through his system making him pleasantly warm.

“Woah, hey there little brother,” Jack moved quickly to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and one hand on his waist. “Gonna fall if you’re not careful.”

“Nah, I’m okay.” He smiled.

Jack tutted. “Not at all, your my guest. Can’t have you falling and spilliting your pretty head on the floor can I?”

Benny frowned, completely missing the ‘pretty’ comment, “it’s carpet?”

Jack laughed loudly. “It sure is… carpet burn then.” He grinned, his eyes trailing over Benny’s face. “Only want that on the knees, you know?”

“On your knees?”

“Yeah…” Jack smiled, darting his tongue out to drag it along his bottom lip. “Let me should you, hmm?”

“Erm, okay, yeah…?” Benny let Jack lead him, still holding onto his waist, to the sofa in the living room. Let him press him down onto the cushions. Let Jack sink to the door between his knees.

He wasn’t stupid. It’s just that… it almost seemed impolite to ask him to stop. And who was Benny really to refuse a blow job when the oputinity arose?

Part of him wished he wasn’t already hard when Jack palmed him through his jeans, wish he had made him work for it. But the other, much louder part, was already desperate to have his soft looking lips around his cock.

He unzipped Benny’s jeans slowly, glancing up at the younger man and giving him plenty of oppuinities to tell him to stop, fuck off, or move away.

Benny stayed still, breathing hard through his nose as Jack carefully pulled him free and ran his hand up and down his hot length for a moment.

“You ever had a guy suck you off?”

“A few times.”

Jack hummed and nodded. “Good.”

Benny barely had a moment to register what he had said before he licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling his tongue over the head before dipping down and taking him into his mouth.

Benny shuddered, letting out a painfully loud sigh at the warmth of Jack’s mouth, at how he sucked just enough to truly ignite a fire under his skin, but not enough to truly ease that ache.

He lifted his head up, swirling his tongue over his balls before he traced the large vein on the underside of his dick and slipped him back into his warm and waiting mouth.

Benny gasped, his thighs twitching as the pleasure in his lower stomach began to grow. He instinctively grabbed hold of the back of Jack’s head, pulling at his hair and pushing him down lower.

Jack hummed, chucking and the vibrations ran along Benny’s cock as he followed the directions and sank lower, the older man’s hands pressed to Ben’s inner thighs to keep him spread wide.

Benny tried to fight the urge to buck up into his mouth, chasing more of that intoxicating heat. But he couldn’t help himself, his stomach muscles twitching as he tried to stay still. Jack’s firm hold stopped him from getting too far though as he kept up his slow and tortuous pace. He let his salvia pool down, completely covering Benny’s cock as he sank lower, and lower and-

Benny cried out, swearing under his breath in a haze as he hit the back of Jack’s throat and went further still. “Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled on his hair, pushing him deeper, his back bending off the sofa. “Holy fuck, please, Jesus,” mindless words tumbled out of his mouth as Jack started to pick up the pace, fucking him in earnest.

Sparks of pleasure ran along Benny’s spine, pooled in his stomach and overrode any other thought. He groaned loudly, throwing his head back against the cushions and squirming against the pleasure.

He tried to pull him back a little to warn him, “Jack, fuck, Jack, I’m gonna-”

But the older man didn’t let up, taking him as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck!” Benny sobbed, his hips stuttering, legs shaking as he spurted down Jack’s throat, coming harder than he could ever remember.

Jack slowed, but kept working him over, prolonging his orgasm until he pulled back fully and grinned.

Benny breathed hard, sweat beading on his forehead as he slumped back onto the sofa, blissed out and boneless.

“How about I get you a glass of water, brother, and then we go again?” Jack smiled.

Benny raised an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, I haven’t actually got carpet burn. Yet.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! (If you've got this far, please pat yourself on the back Jack style.)

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho @pimosworld @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho @lunar-ghoulie @dumdaradumdaradum @plastichearts @silver-night-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom @spxctorsslxt

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#jack mojave #mojave #mojave film #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #john ‘jack’ jackson #triple frontier #benny miller #benny miller x jack #crack

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shina913 · 1 year

Text

Cortado | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-15 (SFW)

Genre: strangers to lovers; meet-cute; tooth-rotting fluff; tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some cussing; brief mention of weed; self-consciousness/insecurity; it's just disgustingly cheesy and fluffy--sorry!🥴

Word count: 4,290 words

Summary: "There must be something about trains. You never know what to expect."

A/N: Here you go, @borahae-k! This is a couple of days late because I couldn't make up my mind about what kind of Joon I wanted to write based on his Spain insta-photo dump. Eventually, I happened to remember a show I saw that I thought would be the perfect scenario for this. Also, I just want to stunt-cast Namjoon in all of my fluffy fics! Thank you, Sim @itdoesntmatterwhy for looking this over and giving me notes (and just general screaming)! I got a little too into the ending that I almost didn't want to stop writing it 💕 The banner kind of sucks but hopefully, the story makes up for that!

“The train will be leaving in ten minutes…” the announcement echoed through the station.

Your eyes flick back and forth at your surroundings. Everyone was glued to their phones and devices. You hardly remember a time and place when people actually sat down and had a solid conversation without having to pull their smartphones every second to scroll around aimlessly.

Did anybody text them? Did they get a like on their latest reel?

If it weren’t an absolute necessity for your job, you’d have yeeted your own phone into a river. While you ponder on your cynical thoughts about technology, you are startled by your own annoying little device.

You look at the screen to see who it was. Recognizing the caller, you answer, “Hey, mom.”

She asks if your train was right on schedule.

“Yeah, we’re just about to leave. The ride should be a little under three hours. Can you still pick me up? …Great, thanks. I’ll give you a call when I’m close so you don’t have to wait too long. …Okay…see you, bye!”

You hang up and set your phone on the table in front of you. You were lucky enough to get to the station and secure seats tucked in the back row.

It was the end of the semester and the doctorate students from your program were given the option to take a short break before beginning their new projects.

You also took advantage of that option so you could finally move the rest of your things into your new office space. The university took care of moving your furniture and other personal belongings out of your flat and into your new location. However, you decided to bring some of your books. These editions were too precious for you to entrust to some stranger.

It wasn’t ideal to be lugging this many things around during a train ride since you didn’t drive. Thankfully, the seats across from you were vacant so you had enough room to set your textbooks down, along with a box of random knick-knacks from your former flat.

Still, you didn’t want to take over the whole space so you set them all against the window, leaving some room for anybody who would like to sit across from you.

You pick up the novel that you’ve been reading and open it to your dog-eared page, hoping to stave off any unwanted conversation on the train. You were a woman, traveling alone, and would be considered a perfect target.

Although, if you were being honest…you sometimes wished you’d experience a real-life meet-cute. Strangers on a train, having a random yet perfectly meaningful conversation–kind of like the novels that you were into.

God, you were so lonely.

It’s been a while since you’ve been with someone. Admittedly, you were jealous of your friend and colleague, Youjin, who somehow manages to balance her romantic life with her post-grad work. She was an inherent social butterfly and had a talent for spinning literature from the middle ages into the most romantic, sensual talking points during her dates.

Sometimes, you wonder what it was like to kiss someone again. The feel of their lips brushing against yours. The problem was, you really didn’t get out much and didn’t see the point of forced efforts of socializing. You were typically hostile to any ‘pickup’ attempt.

You glance across the aisle to find another woman who was animatedly chatting with a couple who sat in the row behind her. They were putting away their luggage when she strikes up a conversation with them after complimenting the woman’s outfit. She twirls her hair between her fingers while they trade travel stories.

She reminded you of Youjin. Her carefree laugh and confident demeanor were qualities that you thought most men found attractive–qualities that would make them naturally approach her. And you have noticed, some of the male passengers who pass her do not hesitate to give her a once-over.

When she was done with her conversation, she settles back into her seat. For a brief moment, she turned her head in your direction, saw you looking, and gave you a friendly smile. You smiled politely back at her before she turns her attention to her phone screen.

You were not Youjin or this woman. You were an awkward bookworm who had only been on a total of one or two dates since starting your graduate program.

You put your book down carelessly on the table and shifted in your seat. Straightening your posture, you turn to glance wistfully at the view from the window and sighed.

…Maybe you could do something to change that.

After thinking about it some more, you decided that you would step out of your comfort zone and dare to engage with the next man who talks to you. The thought of it sounded ridiculous but you figured, good things happened to people who took chances.

You move your books aside to make some room. You look up and glance at other passengers who were still making their way through the car before the train departs the station.

Next, you see a man smiling and excitedly greeting everyone he passes in the aisle.

You pick up your novel again and duck your head. Too chatty, you thought. Please don’t sit here, you internally plead as you avoid eye contact.

Much to your relief, the chatty guy finds an empty spot adjacent to your seat with another woman who, like him, was an eager conversationalist.

Not far behind him was a man who looked very questionable to you. He carried his bag with him–both arms wrapped tightly around it, hugging securely against his chest as if someone was about to steal it.

He had a skittish look in his eyes that scared you. Again, you silently hoped he would sit somewhere else–which thankfully, he did.

The overhead announcement informs you that the train is leaving in two minutes. Your shoulders sag and put your book down again, feeling defeated.

Maybe it just wasn’t the time.

Seconds later, another man huffs down the aisle, dragging his bag along.

He was tall and dressed in all black–a leather jacket over a black hoodie and black pants. Dark strands fell loosely above his eye line. He raked his hair back with his fingers whilst scanning the car for any open seats.

Your heart raced a little as you attempted to subtly get his attention, inviting him to sit across from you.

He pauses and makes eye contact when he reaches your position. You nudge your books aside, beckoning him to have a seat.

“It’s free,” you say meekly.

Just when you think that he was about to settle in, he glances across the aisle and takes the open seat next to the woman who reminded you of Youjin.

Your heart sinks to your stomach just as the train pulls away from the platform.

******

The train is approaching its third stop when you start getting another call.

“Hi, this is YN.” It was the moving company.

“Oh, hi! Thanks for calling me back.” You proceeded to clarify your new delivery address since you mistakenly entered the wrong unit number. The representative on the other line was understanding, updated their records, and assured you that your things would be delivered within two business days.

”Sounds good, thank you so much!” You signed off. After you hung up, your eyes wander across the aisle and notice that Youjin’s doppelgänger had gotten up from her seat to reclaim her bag from the overhead rack.

You smiled to yourself as it left the man in black all by his lonesome.

You silently watch her walk down the aisle, toward the exit. After she had gone, you turn your head and happen to lock eyes with him again.

You cracked a smile, which he returned this time. You couldn’t help but get all flustered. He was devastatingly cute. You wished that he would drop you a cheesy line or two.

A lightbulb goes off in your head–you could initiate the conversation.

Overcoming your anxiety, you open your mouth to say something to him but are startled when the skittish guy with the backpack gets up–completely agitated–then starts yelling at the person they’re sitting next to. He accuses them of trying to steal their stuff. Seconds after his outburst, he hurriedly walks further and took an empty seat several rows down from you.

You and the man in black look at each other and grimaced.

“Man, there must be something about trains. You never know what to expect,” he muses.

“I’m not gonna lie…that actually scared the shit out of me a little bit,” you remarked. You clutched your chest, your heart still beating fast at the strange man’s outburst.

His expression immediately changes to a look of concern. “Well, either way–I’m not the type to just sit around. I wouldn’t have allowed anything to happen to you,” the man in black replies.

Although you loved romantic novels, you thought that ‘blushing’ was such a clichéd, uninspired way to describe someone who was incredibly flustered. And yet here you were…blushing at this stranger’s remark.

You mouthed your thanks to him.

“Are you coming from one of the universities?” He asks.

“How’d you guess?”

He points his chin forward and gestures at your things. ”Uhm…that pile of academic-looking books next to you,” he chuckled.

“Oh,” you remark, now blushing in embarrassment. “Yeah,” you affirm. “Some of these are rare and I personally didn’t trust anyone else to transport them.”

He bobs his head in a nod at your explanation.

“So…what do you do for work?”

“I work in tech. I was just visiting our office down south.”

You nod, thinking about how else to keep this conversation going. “Are you on your way back home?”

“Not yet. I have a friend that I’m meeting up north. I don’t drive and…although I could have taken a plane up here, I figured, why not take the scenic route,” he shares.

“Ah,” your eyebrows lift in curiosity. He struck you as somebody from out of town so you thought you could recommend a local landmark or tourist spot. “There’s a great museum up in that area–I don’t know if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“Oh, I know,” he responds. “It’s primarily why I’m going up there.”

“Oh–I…thought you said that your friend lived there?”

He chuckles. “Eh, we went to university together and he said I could crash at his place. I took it as a window of opportunity.”

You nodded. Suddenly, you felt the conversation slipping away. In a panic, you think of another random but perfectly neutral topic to bring up.

“So–”

“What are–”

You both crack up when you speak at the same time. “Uhm, why don’t you go ahead,” he urged.

“So–what does that mean, exactly? That you work ‘in tech’? I feel like, people say that all the time but I’ve never fully grasped it. I just kind of nod along.”

“Well, I work for a company that targets advertising for social media sites.”

“Oh! So you work in advertising?”

He shook his head gently. “No, I work in tech,” he corrects you. “I handle a bunch of accounts for companies and help them direct their resources properly so they don’t waste their money. We run algorithms based on…”

…And now he’s completely lost you. It’s the same thing that happens when someone tries to explain TikTok and how you can customize your ‘FYP’ settings.

“Nice,” is all you say as politely.

“What about you? What do you do for work?” He queries.

“I’m a scholar. But if you want to get specific about it, I’m a medievalist.”

He stares at you blankly. “Right,” he comments.

It was a reaction that you were used to whenever you engaged with someone outside of your field of study. “In my line of work, there’s not much technology going on there,” you say dryly.

“Maybe because processors were too slow back in those times?” He counters.

You snorted at his dorky joke. You couldn’t help but feel flutters in the pit of your belly.

“I’m sorry…this angle is killing me,” he says, gesturing at his neck. It occurred to you that you were sitting across the aisle from each other, facing the same direction that the train was moving, so he had been craning his neck while he talked to you.

“Would you mind if I sat there?” He points to the empty space in front of you.

You try not to squeal or look too eager. “Oh, of course,” you smiled politely.

“Thanks.” He gets up and takes the seat across from you. Now, you were sitting face-to-face.

“There. That’s better,” he grins. “Where were we?” He asks, hoping to pick up your earlier conversation.

You laugh nervously and fidget with your book. “Gosh, I can’t remember now.” You were frazzled–he didn’t just look good from a distance. He was even more handsome up close. You were in big trouble.

“Actually,” you piped up, snapping out of your haze. “Can I ask you a random question?”

“Sure,” he answers.

“When you were coming down the aisle earlier–what made you decide to sit next to her when you had the option of the two seats?” You were referring to the woman who had just gotten off the train.

“Ah, well,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just prefer to sit facing in the direction the train is going. I have a small issue with motion sickness,” he confesses shyly.

Your chest twinges at his admission. At the same time, you feel a small sense of relief knowing that he wasn’t put off by you for whatever reason.

“Now you’re facing the opposite way,” you point out to him.

“Right, but I’m facing you so my little quirk can take a back seat.” He shrugged, “It’s not a big deal, you know. It’s not like it dominates my life or anything crazy like that.”

“Would you like to switch seats?” You offer kindly.

“Yes, I would love that. Thank you,” he immediately responds in relief. You both rise from your seats, sidestepping and shuffling in the aisle to switch places. The train hits an uneven part of the track knocking you off balance so you grab onto the first thing you could to keep yourself upright.

Your breath hitches when you cling onto his bicep and elbow. He had removed his leather jacket now and didn’t have that extra layer on him. You felt slightly inappropriate at the invasive but purely accidental contact with his body.

“S-sorry,” you mumble as you let go of him and carefully settle into the opposite seat.

“That’s okay, it happens,” he says in consolation. “Where are you traveling to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, I’m moving to my new place…which also happens to be really close to my hometown so my mom is coming to pick me up from the station to stay with her for a couple of days. It’s just until I get my stuff delivered,” you rationalized.

“You say that with a hint of anxiety,” he points out. You appreciate how perceptive he seems to be so you take that as your cue to open up a bit more.

“I enjoyed living far from her these last few years. And the idea of coming back home for a couple of days…” you inhale through clenched teeth, “It’s a little daunting. But don’t get me wrong–” you immediately add, “I love her…it’s just that I can only take her in small doses these days.”

He smiled in commiseration.

“Plus, she’s also in this phase where she’s given up watching TV or having WiFi.”

“What?” He says, clearly taken aback.

You giggled. “I don’t know. I think that she’s going through some mid-life crisis.”

“Damn…no WiFi? Sheesh,” he shook his head, thinking that he didn’t want to be in that same predicament.

“Yeah. Although, in doing all that–she’s recently focused her energy on the arts and other simple things. She paints, writes poetry, listens to talk radio…tends to her plants.”

“Wow,” he says, sounding impressed.

“And she also rediscovered the benefits of weed so–”

“Ahah,” he chuckled. “I knew there was a catch!”

Your mom always waxed poetic about how she used to be such a free spirit when she was younger. Maybe you could pick up a few pointers from her.

“That’s funny… She kind of sounds like my brother–minus all of the creative, artsy, mid-life renaissance parts.”

You laugh at the little bit of personal information that he shares with you.

“He’s like Snoop Dogg, Willie Nelson, and all of Woody Harrelson’s performances rolled into one…giant joint.”

“He sounds very interesting,” you laughed.

“Yeah, maybe he and your mom can link up,” he jokes.

You were pleased with how long you’d kept this conversation going. And you had to commend your social battery for staying strong!

“So…tell me about medievalism,” he says.

You chuckled at that. “Like, in one sentence?”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

You roll your eyes subtly. “Of course you’d want an elevator pitch since you work in advertising.”

He clicked his teeth. “Tech. I work in tech,” he emphasizes while keeping his tone light.

You blew out a breath and shifted in your seat. “I don’t think I can explain what medievalism is in one train ride let alone one sentence.”

He nods in acquiescence. “I get it.”

“You seem to be the type who likes things that are straightforward. Kind of like a…’what you see is what you get’ kind of thing, right?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

You hummed. “Well…I like things that take a bit more time to define. Things that can’t be easily explained. Things with multiple layers that you have to peel back, only to discover that there are more layers to uncover…more questions and answers that have yet to be revealed.”

“Kind of like an onion?”

You lift a shoulder. “Yeah, if you want to simplify it. Just like an onion.”

“Right but couldn’t you just cut right through the center of it? Get right to the point?”

You laughed. “Sure…but where’s the fun in that?”

He pursed his lips, leaned back against the seat, and nodded softly at your point.

“It’s like…” You clicked your teeth, trying to find the right metaphor for it. “It’s like this neverending prologue, you know?” Your expression softens. “Because once you begin reading a story…you know that the end is coming.”

“I’m the opposite, I guess,” he counters. “I’d like to think that I’m more practical and tend to see things from a logical perspective. What is this thing called, show me how it works; how does it fit into the big picture? I don’t think like a scholar. I prefer to know things that I can apply to my daily life.”

“That’s fair,” you say to him, acknowledging his point of view.

Then, after gathering up more courage, you tell him, “I’m really glad that you came to sit here with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Better than the other guy who looked like a murderer,” you say in jest.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Who?” Then his face visibly relaxes when remembers who you were referring to. He cranes his neck to take a peek at the guy who sat a few rows down from you.

When he turns his attention back to you, his expression darkened. He rests his elbows on the table, fingers steepled, while he leaned closer to you.

Squaring his jaw, he says, “I’ve got news for you, YN…you’ve made a fatal mistake.”

You recoil slightly. “Huh?”

He continued, his tone growing threatening. “I’m the murderer here. I’m sorry to tell you that this is a thriller and not the romance novel that you pictured.”

Your brows knit in utter confusion. Your pulse raised while you contemplated throwing your heavier, hard-bound books at him to defend yourself.

After a few beats of silence and intense eye contact, you see the corner of his mouth twitch. It effectively eased the tension and you both break into laughter.

“Holy shit, you should have seen your face,” he says in between cackles.

“Oh my–do not ever do that!” You were also relieved to find an even bigger nerd than you were.

After catching your breath, you switch tact. “By the way, how do you know my name?”

“I kind of overheard your phone conversation earlier. Sorry,” he says apologetically. “I’m Namjoon.” You smile and shake his hand after he introduces himself.

“I didn’t realize that you were paying attention,” you say.

“Yeah…I just…I don’t know,” he scrambled for an answer but failed.

“And who said anything about romance?” You cock an eyebrow at him and he turns sheepish.

Now it was his turn to look all flustered.

******

You don’t know how it happened but it’s been nearly three hours since you and Namjoon were completely lost in conversation. You bounced from one subject to another, rarely missing a beat. It felt so easy to talk to him. Presumptuous as it was, you felt a connection there.

The intercom announces that your stop was approaching in a few minutes. Hearing that takes you by surprise—and you also realize that you got so carried away that you forgot to call your mom to give her a heads-up on your arrival.

Your face falters when you take your things, which he kindly offers to help gather. His expression turned sober as well, unsure how to move forward. His destination was still an hour away.

When this train ride began, all you hoped for was a random, real-life meet-cute. Then Namjoon came along and now you felt torn between wanting to live out some fantasy or pursuing this real-life thing…whatever this thing is.

“Well…uhm…i-it was really nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Same,” you reply.

“You made the journey feel a lot shorter than usual.” Your cheeks warm at the compliment.

There you were, face-to-face–lips pursed, looking like you were both trying to gauge each other’s thoughts.

And you didn’t know why, but all that confidence you felt earlier seemed to be slipping from your grasp. It occurred to you once more that this was real life, not a romance novel.

In the end, you would walk off this train feeling grateful that a guy like him had even taken a remote interest in you.

“I guess, I should be going now,” you muttered.

“Oh…y-yeah,” he stutters.

You get up and he follows suit. “Would you think it inappropriate if I were to give you a hug?” He asks.

You shook your head. “Not at all.”

With your consent, he opens his arms wide and wraps you in them. You inhale deeply, taking his scent in, further torturing yourself.

You both pull away reluctantly. With a heavy heart, you approached the car doors to wait for the train to slow into a halt…until the loud screeching of the breaks knocks some sense into you.

Did you really want to go through the rest of your life living vicariously through Youjin’s outrageous escapades?

It was now or never, you thought. You had to take a chance!

“Namjoon?” You turn around abruptly to face him again.

“Yeah?” He responds nervously.

“I never do this but–would you like to get off the train with me? We could get some coffee and…keep talking?” The words spill out of you a little too quickly.

You wait an agonizing few seconds for his response.

Then, his face breaks into the most boyish, absolutely knock-your-socks-off grin. He smiled so broadly that even when he relaxed his mouth, the creases of his dimples were still evident on his cheeks.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He stands up and hurriedly grabs his bag overhead and walks towards you. Smiling, he takes a few books off your hands and you both off-board the train. As soon as you step onto the platform together, it began to drizzle so you both run for cover.

You both laugh while watching the rain start to pour from the skies. You glance sideways at him to find him grinning while staring at you.

Asking him for coffee was already a huge step out of your comfort zone. But something about Namjoon–the connection you shared and how easy and natural everything felt.

As cheesy as it was, you decide to take another huge leap.

Seizing the moment, you say, “You ever wonder what it’s like to kiss in the rain?”

Without a word, he sets his things down. Oh no…you’ve royally screwed it up now. He looked like he might run off in the other direction. Mortified, you wished you could go back in time and take it all back.

But the rom-com gods were watching and they liked what they saw. They decide to throw you a bone.

He surprises you and takes steps backward– under the pouring rain. He was soaked in seconds.

He held his hands out to you and says, “C’mon, now’s our chance!”

Giggling, you clumsily throw your things next to his, run into his arms, and kiss him.

It was…just as perfect as you imagined it would be. You melted into the kiss, swept away by the sheer lushness of it. Your heart pounded fast, synchronized with the raindrops that pelted you.

His lips moved against yours at a soft and leisurely pace. That wasn’t to say they weren’t eager…because you surely felt it.

When you finally come up for air, you both laugh. You stood there drenched, with your foreheads pressed against each other’s and his arms securely wrapped around your waist.

It was the perfect ending to your romantic novel. …Or was this just the beginning?

Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @itdoesntmatterwhy @internetjunkdrawer @purplewhalewrites @yu-justme @joonschocochip @deepseavibez @majamarantha @yoongukie-ff

#bts fan fiction #namjoon x reader #namjoon #btshoneyhive #thekpopuniverse #bangtantheatrenet #kim namjoon #namjoon fluff #bts namjoon #bts kim namjoon #bts fluff #cortado x knj

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

The Places We Hide Part 5

So I decided to just post both of the last pieces together, so just one more post after this one. What can I say, I’m a sucker for Wayne being the only over 40 adult that gets Steve.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The next time Steve had one of his attacks, Eddie wasn’t home. He was running some errands in town.

“Munson residence,” Wayne said.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Steve hissed.

“Where you at?”

Steve paused. “Home.”

Twenty minutes later there was a knock on Steve’s door.

“You didn’t have to come,” he murmured as he let the older Munson in.

“Boy, I think I’m about the only one who understands,” Wayne said gently before pulling Steve into a hug.

Steve went a little reluctantly, but once he felt Wayne’s strong arms wrap around his back, he let out a shuddering breath. A breath he didn’t even know he had been carrying. And then another. And another. Finally all the weight that Steve had been holding deep in his chest lifted and he could breath normally again.

Once Wayne could see that Steve was feeling better he told him to lead them to the front room.

Steve did as he was told. He sat down on one of the sofas and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Eddie told me that other than him, you’re the oldest of your little group of friends?” Wayne asked, his voice warm and comforting.

Steve huffed. “There’s a lot of us now, but yeah, me and Eds are the oldest.”

“Is that why you latched on to my nephew so fast?” Wayne teased.

Steve’s laugh was a little lighter and Wayne took that as a win. “One of them, yeah. The other reason was that he’s so easy to like.”

Wayne grinned. “Yeah, he is.” He licked his lips. “He also said that the other parents tend to treat you like another kid.”

Steve sighed heavily. “Yeah. I mean, I get it. When all this shit started I was barely sixteen, so they still see that sixteen year old.”

“Instead of the twenty year old warrior with a good head on his shoulders?”

Steve blushed. “Now I see where Eds gets his way with words.”

Wayne waggled his eyebrows and Steve finally let loose a real laugh. “I don’t have that problem, Steve. I met you as an adult. Sure, you are half my age, but I can tell you are a very capable person.”

“Except when I get like this,” Steve murmured.

Wayne grimaced. “Only I know something that your logical part of your brain forgot, but the rest of you didn’t.”

Steve looked up at him and frowned. “What’s that?”

“Next month is the anniversary of the earthquake.”

Steve’s eye went wide. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Wayne chuckled. “You’ve said that already.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve groused. “You’re right. My brain may have forgotten but the rest of me didn’t.”

“The town wants to sweep it under the rug. What happened, what they nearly did to my nephew because they were looking for someone to blame,” Wayne’s voice was hard for the first time since he got there.

Steve nodded. “All those deaths. All that destruction. And they want to pretend it was just some gas leak.”

“The unfortunate dark side humanity,” Wayne agreed. “Bury and forget. So throw a party at the park. Invite all your friends. Everyone that survived that, that you want to see celebrate just being alive. Put up banners announcing what it’s for.”

“Aaaannnddd there is Eddie’s sense of justice, right there,” Steve said with a grin.

Wayne grinned back. “You keep that up and I might just blush.”

Steve laughed. “Eddie loves you. Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I had someone like you instead of parents that ran away from their problems.”

“You counting yourself as one of those problems?” Wayne asked with a raised eyebrow.

Steve ducked his head. “Look around you. Where are they? I can’t even see their presence in this house. It looks like one of those damned real estate magazines.”

Wayne looked around the room they were in for the first time. The bland pictures on the walls, none of the Harringtons. Not even wedding photos. The perfect furniture, the tasteful decorations. Soulless.

“Why do you still live here?” he asked after a moment.

Steve looked up. “For everyone else, I guess. A place to hold parties, D&D, use the swimming pool. To fill with a laughter and good times. With family.”

Wayne nodded. “You also realize that most of your panic attacks are when you’re here, right?”

Steve reared his head back. “I didn’t actually.” He looked around the room, too. “I guess some ghosts just can’t be exorcised.”

“You have all the money the government gave you for two world ending events,” Wayne reminded him. “You could probably buy another house in Loch Nora, one without the ghosts.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “You know, I’d forgotten about that money.”

Wayne sighed. “You’re a good kid, Steve. But sometimes your upbringing shows up in the strangest of places.”

Steve winced. “Like forgetting I never have to work a day in my life if didn’t want to?”

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “The very like.” He got to his feet. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

Steve frowned. “Why? Where are we going?”

“The hardware store,” Wayne replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And why are we going to the hardware store?” Steve said as he put on his shoes.

“To get you a key to our place,” Wayne said with a grin. “Eddie says you can drive when you get like this, so if you’re home and need to get out. Come on over. Open invitation. No questions asked.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest but snapped it closed with a gulp. “Thank you.”

As they drove off in Wayne’s truck, Wayne turned to Steve, “Plus this gives us a great opportunity to talk about you and Eddie.”

Steve glanced at the door and then back at Wayne. “Are we going too fast for me to jump out now?”

Wayne cackled. “No, but I will if you open that door.”

Steve gulped. “Fair enough.”

“I’m not gonna hurt ya, or even give you the shovel talk,” he explained. “I just want to know if my boy has a chance.”

Steve’s head whipped around. “Eddie likes me like that?”

Wayne laughed. “Boy, he’s been flirting with you since day one, and you’re telling me you didn’t notice?”

He blushed. “I just thought he was overly affectionate with everyone.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “Fair enough. What about this thing you two have going with the panic attacks?”

That one was harder to explain away. “I guess I never thought about it. Which is awful to say in hindsight. But it just felt as natural as breathing.”

Wayne just smiled.

Part 6

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #steve needs a hug #ladykailtiha writes

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owmylasagna-blog · 4 months

Text

Ed is Thicker Than Mud

Warning: Character development arc may take a couple years to take full effect.

Some random musings on post-BPS Eddy growing pains.

You can also read it over on AO3.

Each mechanical tick of the outdated relic of a wall clock reverberating through the office makes his skin crawl. Wriggling uncomfortably, the naugahyde of the chair releases a series of unnatural whines of protest beneath the restless teen. Don’t they know precious moments of his youth are slipping away with every infuriatingly useless second spent shedding dead skin cells in this room? It doesn’t help that his jeans are still damp. He’s pretty sure his new sneakers are wrecked too.

If being detained wasn't bad enough, they’re probably on the phone with his mom right now, and he isn’t exactly looking forward to his folks tearing him a new one over tonight's chicken francaise. Just as he imagines the yelling match his mom and pop are gonna inevitably start the loose doorknob rattles behind him.

“Here we go,” Eddy grumbles into the collar of his long sleeve polo. He slumps down into the armchair.

The door groans on its hinges, open and then shut. Footsteps click in time as the middle aged man slowly makes his way around the office furniture and sits. All the while Eddy keeps his eyes planted on the linoleum tiles between the desk and his feet. He feigns disinterest as a manila folder and a few slips of paper are shuffled.

“So. Edward McGee…”

Eddy squints, not exactly appreciative of the pause for dramatic effect, nor the emphasis put on his last name.

“Would you care to explain why you're in my office, young man?”

“No.”

“No ‘you don’t care’? Or no ‘you can’t explain’?”

In response, Eddy crosses his arms and slouches even further into the depths of the worn leatherette, the heels of his sneakers squeaking as they skid forward. The principal sighs.

“The silent treatment won't get you very far-”

“You know what I did.”

Boy was this interrogation a bunch of bologna.

“Yes, I certainly do. I’m well aware of the damage to school property you’ve caused, not to mention the cost required to repair it. What I want to know is why.”

“Principal Howard, I didn’t-”

“We’ve already heard your excuses. This is your last chance to plead your case as to why you felt it necessary to tamper with-”

“I didn’t tamper nothin’!”

Eddy shoots to his feet, looking the principal in the face for the first time. His heart thrashes against his ribcage.

“I find that hard to believe.”

Yep. Totally pointless.

The teen and the man exchange steely glares before the elder shifts his gaze behind the younger.

“Please sit, Edward.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddy parks his keister back down, resuming his previous slouch. He watches as Principal Howard leafs through the papers on his desk. Most are a familiar shade of detention slip blue, some more faded than others. It’s a suspiciously sizable stack considering he’s only been in high school for three months. Sure, his track record hasn’t been… great. He’s never been the morning type. Missing homeroom three out of five days in a week will do that. As does skipping out on a detention here and there. Compared to junior high, though, Eddy considers himself a freakin’ angel so far. Barring today of course… just his luck.

But the slips have Eddy curious enough to raise a brow at, sitting up a bit straighter in an attempt to sneak a peek. He’s caught off guard when the name written on the top edge isn’t his own. Well, not entirely. Eddy’s muscles flex with immediate recognition, flashing a fierce look up to find the intent gaze of the older man peering down his sizable nose through his glasses.

No ‘effin way.

“You remind me of your brother.”

Eddy sputters, feeling the air rush out of his lungs. It makes it hard to speak. His brain fills with static. It makes it hard to think.

“Wha- you- you can’t-”

How’s he allowed to say that?

“Before I became principal I taught at this school for many years. Don’t think I could forget a kid like that so easily. Bright, creative, one might say underchallenged, but misguided, difficult, trouble prone. Unfortunate really. I didn’t have much control of the situation then nor the authority. But things have changed, except for the fact that I’m tasked with ensuring another McGee boy doesn’t slip through the cracks.”

“Cool headed” is an accolade foreign to Eddy. It takes every fiber of his being to bite his tongue, stopping himself from spewing expletives that will land him right back in the hot seat for the umpteenth time. More than anything he holds back to prove that he isn’t anything at all like…

“Which is why I’m requiring that you join an extracurricular student activity effective immediately.”

“WHAT!? WHY?!” Eddy finally blows his top. It’s a relief to scream.

“You need discipline, structure, responsibility, teamwork - whatever it takes to preoccupy your idle hours.”

“Believe me, Teach, the mathletes don’t need me screwin’ up their squared roots or whatever.”

“Then choose something else that interests you. D’you like sports?”

Eddy shrugs. Lately, nothing really interests him. Let alone anything school related. Not even marathons of The Ed Sullivan Show or wearing out the grooves in A-tom-ic Jones can seem to pull him out of this slump. And he sure wasn’t jumping at the opportunity to get towel-whipped by the meatheads, that's for sure. The thought of the foot smell that wafts from the locker room like a thick miasma alone makes him shudder.

Eighth grade graduation, the start of high school, and the abysmal summer between them had been a strange fog. Beyond his two best friends, Eddy avoided the other cul-de-sac kids like a plague. Oh yeah, this was cruel ironing as Double Dee put it. All that time vying to get their attention? Ever since they got front row seats to his bro’s assholery on full display, they’d been acting real nice. Too nice.

The remainder of seventh grade, after the groundings ended, was filled with an unprecedented number of invitations to movie nights, birthday parties, and sleepovers. Even though he’d sworn off the scams it somehow felt like he still needed to perform every time he made an appearance. Suddenly, everybody wanted to get to know him more. And that scared Eddy: what if there wasn’t more? He felt he hardly knew himself these days.

“You have until the end of the week to decide, so start asking around. And when you do find a team or club, I will personally speak to the coach or teacher running it to ensure that you are immediately enrolled and actively participating. Do you understand?”

The principal receives a noncommittal grunt as a response. He’s more stern the second time.

“Do you understand, Edward?”

Eddy finally gives a reluctant reply, hoping that this is the end of the conversation and he’ll be off the hook.

“Yeah. Capeech.”

“Good. Because this sort rebellious behavior will not be to-”

“And it’s Eddy.”

The balding man blinks a few times, brows twitching.

“Well, Eddy, another stunt like today and I bring your parents in. Capeech?”

Having his own phrasing thrown back at him makes Eddy feel even more patronized than he already is. Which is saying something, considering this whole freakin’ ordeal feels like it was designed by the universe or some malevolent god to humiliate him to no end.

“Yeah…”

Double doors fly open when the compact teen barrels through. He’s moving fast, on a mission, so focused on getting as much distance between himself and this stupid school that he hardly notices the two figures sitting side by side on the stone stairs anxiously awaiting his release. The leaner of the two jumps to his feet, calling out through the bothersome crack his voice has acquired thanks to puberty.

“Eddy!”

He whips around, jabbing a finger square between Double Dee’s eyes. The taller boy flinches back at the accusatory appendage.

“I aint talkin’ to you, snitch! Let’s go, Ed.”

The eldest of the bunch complies to the command, joining Eddy by his side. Edd huffs, shaking his fists, and with an indignant stomp of his sneakered foot is hot on the trail of his two friends. Seeing as there is a nasty storm cloud over Eddy’s head Ed opts to not ask too many questions. Instead he shares the exciting news:

“Double Dee and me saw two squirrels fighting over a nut while you were gone.”

“Sad story,” replies Eddy, inflection flat as a sheet of paper.

Meanwhile, the speed walking boy approaching from the rear isn’t so quick to change the subject.

“Come now! You can’t seriously think my intention was to smear your academic reputation!”

Eddy keeps stomping the pavement, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, and rolls his eyes in disbelief. The balls on this guy…

“Eddy, please,” Edd pleads, finally gaining, “The entire first floor was flooded. Given my proximity I responded in a manner that anyone in their right mind would. Honestly, are you suggesting I had a plethora of options?”

“Bull! Ya coulda kept your big. Mouth. Shut.” Eddy snarls through gritted teeth, shoulders tensing up to his ears.

“And be a complicit bystander? I think not,” replies Edd with a pout.

“Why do you make it out like I wanted that to happen!?” Eddy spits back, keeping his sights focused on the cracked cement.

“Who says I’m blaming you? It’s causality. You flushed an entire cafeteria tray and its contents down the toilet.”

“Ain’t my fault the lunch sucked mega balls! And why’s the school got plumbing from the Dark Ages? You saw that casserole.” He throws up two skeptical air quotes, “Would have been better off eatin’ rubber cement.”

“I think I saw it move,” Ed adds excitedly, grinning ear to ear.

Ed had eaten his serving of casserole with much relish, though, not before dunking it into his trusty thermos o’ gravy. It’s too bad that Eddy turned down the offer. The mental image of the subpar cafeteria slop alone makes both Edd and Eddy’s stomachs churn, let alone the gusto with which Ed manages to devour it.

“Yes. Well. I must say I was glad to have packed a garbanzo salad sandwich today based on the looks of things,” the teen in the beanie admits, punctuated with a nervous chuckle.

Eddy can’t help but look his friend in the face despite the stubborn front he’s working so hard to put up. Edd’s got a small smile but otherwise he looks ill at the recollection of the foul lunch offerings, his tongue peeking out through the gap as it presses against the back of his teeth. The husky boy cracks his own smile and stifles snort at his pal’s pathetic expression.

“Food so bad, even the crapper couldn’t stomach it,” Eddy throws in just for a kick.

It works - at least he and Ed chuckle over that and Edd shakes his head incredulously - burning off some of the uncomfortable tension that has been growing since the afternoon. The trio continue walking a few yards in the direction of home, lulling their arguing for just a moment to the sound of gravely footsteps, rustling leaves, and the jingle of Eddy’s wallet chain thumping against his thigh.

Sidewalks aren’t exactly wide enough to walk together in a line so it's unavoidable that every now and then, if they don’t split off into a triangle formation, that they bump shoulders. Eddy feels his shoulder nudge into Double Dee’s arm, then awkwardly clears his throat and sniffles against the chill fall air.

“I thought you weren’t talking to me,” heckles Double Dee with a pretentious sideways smirk.

Before he knows it, Eddy feels the back of his neck burning. For that alone he gives the wiry and historically uncoordinated teen a solid shove, causing him to stumble over his own two feet and step squarely into a soggy pile of street gutter leaves. The feeling of cold damp permeating through his shoe upper and soaking into his sock makes the boy yelp and shudder in disgust, a shiver running up his spine.

“Wet!” Edd wails. He shakes his sodden sneaker like a cat that's stepped in water and skips to catch up.

Of course Eddy laughs at Edd’s theatrics, very openly, which just sets Ed off to join him. Reveling in his buddy’s harmless misfortune, Ed throws an arm over Eddy’s shoulder which the shorter teen roughly shrugs off.

“Very good. I’ve received my comeuppance.” Edd sighs, wincing as his sock squelches with every other step.

A few tsks of disapproval are made by Ed seemingly out of the blue. Edd and Eddy are surprised to see their happy-go-lucky Lump looking uncharacteristically forlorn.

“How sad it must be to be a squirrel without a nut. What cruel, hostile world we must live in where there are not enough nuts to go around.” Ed punctuates the thought with a heavy sigh.

“I’m lookin’ at a nut right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Ed perks up, head whipping violently in search of it as though he can rectify the injustice he’d witnessed.

“Yeah, TWO of ‘em!“

Just as he says it, Eddy’s fist finds its way to the tall redhead’s vulnerable groin with an empty punch.

“DOH!”

Edd puts a bit of space between himself and Eddy.

“Fear not, Ed. Every squirrel has their day.”

“Good for them,” Eddy growls, his earlier gloating soured by envying, of all things, a fuzzy rat.

Seeing as his vapid positivity hasn’t exactly resonated with Eddy, Edd decides to take a more direct approach.

“So, what punishment has befallen you? Another detention.”

Eddy’s brows drop down over his eyes with a snarl. He sees a pebble a few steps ahead and when he reaches it gives it a good solid kick. It skitters wildly into the street.

“No.”

“Suspension.”

“No.”

“Disintegration?” Ed chimes in.

“I wish.”

“You’d make a fine puddle, you would.”

“Thanks, Ed,” Eddy rolls his eyes, shoving his chin down into the collar of his jacket.

He nearly jumps at the shriek-like sound of Edd’s gasp. It looks as though he’s doing a decent impression of that weird painting of the screaming guy.

“Good lord, please don’t tell me you’ve been… expelled!?” Edd can hardly say the word.

“No! Worse! I gotta join some bogus extracaricature.”

Double Dee’s hand flies, grabbing Eddy’s bicep. The sudden physical contact makes Eddy reflexively flinch.

“What a relief! You had me worried for a second.” An offended look on Eddy’s face does worry Edd and he realizes it’s because of the grasp he has on his arm. He swiftly releases it, putting his hand in his jacket pocket.

“Ah- A generously lenient outcome considering the extent of property damage. Participation in a peer activity? Hmm… Why, you could always join me on the junior debate team. What you lack in research skills you certainly make up for with your argumentative temperament.”

“Kill me already.”

Eddy sags under the weight of such a nerdy proposition.

“Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Craning his neck, Ed peers down curiously.

“Join me! We could always use a uh-” Ed pauses, counting on his fingers, “a third member on the team. You could even go by Mr. AV-Eddy.”

With a rough tug, Ed’s head snaps down to match his short-statured friend’s eye level, Eddy’s fist full of the pilling and frayed green jacket collar.

“Call me that at school and I’ll shove an 8 millimeter where the sun don’t shine.”

“Norway?”

“NO way. Don’t even try it.” Eddy threatens before letting go of Ed.

“You got it, Mr. Cool Guy I’d Never Ever Call AV-Eddy, uh, sir!”

To show his deference, Ed removes his monobrow and swears it over his heart.

They keep walking. It’s about a half hour trudge back to the cul-de-sac, but it sure beats the torment of the public school buses. Bottom of the food chain means getting the crappiest seats, or worse even, becoming completely separated. Much better to brave the biting wind for now: Eddy’s ears and nose are already ruddy. Come winter they might reassess.

It’s hard not to think he might be cursed: born with the dark mark. Maybe somewhere down his family line there was some cardinal sin committed that’s the root to all this. If he has to place bets it was probably those damn pilgrims that sold Peach Creek to the Kankers, the lot of inbred nitwits. Eddy sorta gets why his brother is the way he is. He knows deep down his parents treated him different from the jump. That he’s had it better, at least in some ways. Despite his bad luck he’s technically the lucky one. But there is still so much he doesn’t know. Stuff that when he brings it up mom just starts blubbering. He won’t even bring it up with dad. So teachers thought he was smart?

Over the last year, Double Dee has fretted over Eddy’s drawn out silences. Just like the one now. He can’t help but read far too deeply into whatever might preoccupy Eddy’s mind so much to leave him speechless. A more contemplative and reflective streak could be good for Eddy. Except Double Dee knows from personal experience how quickly things can go south inside the echo chamber of one’s own thoughts. He chews his lip as the worry gnaws away at him.

“Eddy? Was there… anything else you wanted to talk about?”

Eddy sniffs his running nose again, scowling. He shrugs.

“S’nothing. Everyone at this school’s got it out for me.”

The feeling of a gentle hand between his shoulder blades makes the back of his eyes burn. Dammit. He blinks hard, sniffing even harder.

“Not everyone.” Double Dee earnestly assures. Ed wraps another arm around him in a lax half hug and this time Eddy doesn’t shrug him off. Instead, he leans in.

“Okay, okay. Fine. Almost everyone.”

And that’s good enough for him.

#eene #ed edd n eddy #lasagnawords

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bugichor · 2 years

Text

“self righteous”

pairing: joel miller x reader; joel miller x you.

genre: smut.

wc: 2k+

cw/tags: hate/angry sex, anal/from behind, marking, table sex, cream pie/breeding, age gap. NO y/n and gender neutral reader.

summary: your patrol with joel goes wrong and you find yourselves trapped in one of the safe houses along your route. things get heated. set between tlou 1 and 2.

an: i’ve never written hate sex before so bare with me. if anything in the cw is not for you, please skip it. i would hate to upset anyone but even more so, i would hate to hear about how awful i am for writing it. also this is part of my kinktober stuff!

“Move it!” You hear Joel yell from ahead.

He’s at the doorway to one of the safe houses along your usual patrol route. You sprint toward him, embarrassed that you lagged behind in the first place. You’re not even sure they’re following anymore but you don’t waste time looking around. Rather, you barrel past Joel and into the safe house, flinching a little as the door slams hard behind you.

Gasping for breath, you lean back against one of the few pieces of furniture in this room. It’s fairly empty here, but that can be expected. There’s a few cluttered bookcases lining the graffitied walls and a few tables, one of which you find yourself resting on, in the middle of the room with a few chairs tucked in beneath them. It reads as an old youth centre but you can’t be sure. These rooms have seen so many lives in the past few decades, they never really represent what they were once supposed to be. This room has no purpose now, just a hole to wait out the storm in, and the only furnishings that matter are the boards along the windows and heavy bolted doors to keep the clickers out.

You take a moment to find your lungs as Joel traipses around the room almost silently, performing a quick sweep to ensure there’s nothing in here with you both. Joel is a professional at this stuff, so you leave it to him and take a few deep breaths of stale air to get your body working again. You must’ve run a mile in three minutes getting away from that horde, and on sopping wet ground too. And yet, the old man still made it here first.

You’d known Joel for a while now, a year or two at least, but he was still an enigma to you. He was a quiet man, a real grump at times, someone that most people couldn’t get along with - and you felt he might prefer it that way. But he got along with you. You weren’t sure why, but he did. You’d spent time considering the possibilities before - maybe it was the times you’d been kind to that kid he cared about; maybe it was the few conversations about coffee you’d had; maybe it was because you simply didn’t get into his business - but it only led to a spiral of momentary memories and feelings you didn’t want to address.

You didn’t know why you cared so much, or perhaps you did. You knew you were attracted to him - he may have been twenty years older than you, but you knew a good-looking man when you saw one - but it wasn’t something you’d ever address sober. There had been a few times, drunken nights in the bar, that you’d flirted a little; using some of your most eloquent and sophisticated lines like “I just know you’re a good fuck, old man”. But, as expected, he didn’t give you any sort of response you could work with. In usual Joel fashion, he had given you a barely-there chuckle and told you to go easy on your liquor. You knew he didn’t take you seriously, and that was okay. But you always wondered what would happen if he did.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear, feel, a slam on the surface you’re leant against. The vibration sends shockwaves through you and you look around to see Joel stood at the other side of the table, his hands firmly placed and head down between his shoulders. He’s not looking at you, but the hairs on your arms stand on end regardless.

“Jesus, Joel.” You complain loudly. But you shrink a little when he looks at you. He’s angry. Oh, he’s very angry.

“What was that?” He asks seriously, the low grumble of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Huh? Are you gonna explain yourself?”

Feeling defensive, your brow furrows and you glare at him. “They came out of nowhere, Joel. You saw for yourself.”

“No.” He grunts, slamming his hands on the table once more. The veins are visible in his forehead and his shoulder muscle is twitching beneath his plaid shirt. You’ve never seen him like this. “Those things don’t just come out of nowhere. You weren’t paying attention.”

“I did my checks just fine.” You spit.

“Oh, you did your checks just fine. I’m sure you did. Did you get a close enough look at that stalker when it jumped you?” Joel interrogates, spittle flying from his lips as he yells. “Or should I have let it get a little closer and kill you? You wanna go back and check it again?”

And, as much as you hated it, he was right. You hadn’t noticed the stalker. You hadn’t been careful enough. And the shout you let out when it sent you flying across the room had attracted a whole horde of those things. But that didn’t mean you were going to admit complete blame. No, no - you were far too stubborn for that.

“And you’re perfect, are you?” You chide. You turn your back to him and lean your arse against the rim of the table, folding your arms more casually than defensively.

You can feel him burning up behind you, feel his anger bubbling over like a newly active volcano. There’s a sick sense of enjoyment prickling the hairs on the back of your neck; knowing how much he probably wants to kill you right now just for saying that, and knowing that he would never do it.

“I seem to remember a time I saved your life too.” You remind him. You hear him traipsing around the table towards you, but don’t dare to look at him. “But you know what? I don’t think I’ve ever brought that up - to you, to anyone. It’s almost like saving someone’s life is just a common courtesy out here.”

He’s in front of you now, close, but you still don’t meet his eye, instead looking off toward the boarded up window. It’s almost palpable, the heat radiating from his body and seething rage expelling from his breath. You find yourself excited by it, desperate to push him just a little further. Would he hit you? You doubt it. But he might shout again, and the thought of that sends butterflies fervently fluttering in the pit of your stomach. The thought of his attention being on you, good or bad, sends an electricity through your veins that you’ve never felt before, but you don’t have time to consider what that means. You’re too focused on pushing his buttons for existential thought right now.

“But your self righteous attitude really grinds on me sometimes, y’know. You’re always right, aren’t you, old man?” You provoke him, turning your face to look him in the eye now. “You’ve never made a mistake in-”

Your sentence is cut short when he seizes your jaw in his hand, his calloused fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout. The fear you should be experiencing is wholly overpowered by the intense feeling of lust and sexual intimacy. His face is so close to yours, the strong smell of his stale coffee breath is imprinting on your tongue, your skin, your psyche.

“You don’t know me.” Joel seethes. “You’re just some kid. Some kid whose bark is gonna get them bit one day.”

Your gaze flicks between his eyes and the movement of his lips as he speaks. And there’s a moment - just one fleeting moment - where he notices. And he pauses. His grip on your jaw weakens, but holds. His free hand moves to the surface behind you, shutting you in, and his stare shifts from intense to understanding.

“You’re enjoying this.” His voice is gravelly, earthy, sultry even. But you can’t read his tone, his feelings, his body language. And yet, it doesn’t matter to you.

You shift your thigh between his and press against his crotch, the hard shape of his cock evident through his tight blue jeans. “So are you.” You smirk.

It’s then that he kisses you, his hand still firmly grasping your face, his lips smashing against yours with a force. You’re taken aback at first, your breath hitched in your throat, but soon find his pace, your mouth moving in tandem with his. The taste of his tongue is intoxicating and you move to wrap your arms around his neck, but are stopped short when he seizes you by the wrists. He uses the momentum to turn your body to face the table, your hips digging painfully into the edge as he presses his weight close against your back.

“This is what you want.” Joel spits like you’re disgusting, like you’re sick, sending lightning through your body. His cock is rock hard against the small of your back. “Isn’t it?”

You struggle to answer, all the words (yes, absolutely and more than anything) erased from your brain, but words aren’t required here. He releases your wrists to unbutton his jeans and you follow suit, roughly tugging your pants down and letting them settle at your feet.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” The old man chuckles at your eagerness, a kind of comfortable confidence exuding from his demeanour. And that power, the power he’s holding over you right now, fills your stomach with wet cement, leaving you deliciously helpless to his will.

You hear him spit on his hand and a rumble of pleasure flows through you in anticipation of what follows. Joel holds the shaft of his cock in one hand, his free hand guiding your hips into the correct position, as your body bends over the table instinctually. He enters you slowly and a string of pained and pleasured moans leave your lips. And you begin to realise just how desperately you’d wanted this, how long you’d wanted this, how badly you needed this.

Joel grunts and, holding your hips with both hands, begins to thrust into you, slowly at first but growing in pace with every swing of his hips. Your breath quickens as he reaches his desired tempo and you move with him, tightening and relaxing your muscles in time with his stride. He feels your movement and offers up praise in the form of a string of whispered curse words. One hand moves from your hip bone to your front to please you in tandem and it’s then that you begin to see stars, your cheek resting against the hard, cold table as your moans become whinier and whinier.

His hand is touching you, feeling you, groping you in the most wonderful way and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on. Joel’s body begins to sweat, the burning sensation of the heat beneath his skin evident against your thighs, and he lurches forward to place his mouth on your shoulder blade, biting and sucking at the skin. You jerk away instinctively, a symptom of living through the apocalypse, but soon relax into him, enjoying the sensation of his teeth and tongue.

He pushes into you hard and you can feel his cock already leaking, cum dripping out of you and down your thighs, the cool liquid sensation sending shivers through you. It’s then that you can’t hold on any longer, the feeling of his hands, his cock, his teeth all too much, and you reach orgasm, your pleasure manifesting in one desperate, shuddering moan. A few more thrusts and Joel finishes, his cock still buried inside you as he does, leaving you shivering as his cum fills your walls. His sweating form collapses atop you in an exhausted mess, his muscular arms limp at your sides and forehead resting hard against your shoulder blade, his stubble irritating the large red mark he’d just moments ago left there for you.

There’s a moment of quiet as the two of you catch your breath. But before you have a moment to talk about it, to say anything, to say thank you, you hear it. That familiar clicking sound coming from just a few yards away. The two of you tense at the noise and you realise what you’ve done, your eyes trained on the light between the gaps in the boarded up window slowly turning into shadow as a horde approaches.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fiction #the last of us #kinktober #joel x reader #joel x you

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