#//I’m home and I cleaned up my following list some | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theonottsbxtch · 10 days ago

Text

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER | MV1

an: can you tell i have an amazing music taste, anyway i’m finishing up a lot of my wips this weekend therefore be ready for a bit of stuff to come out!! i need to update my master list

warnings: domestic abuse, religious themes obvs

wc: 10.2k

Max was never one for church.

Never believed in any of that.

But God, would he get on his knees for a girl.

He couldn’t even remember when he first saw her—it was like she’d always been there, glowing in a way that made his chest tighten and his palms itch to touch what he had no business reaching for.

She was perfect in that untouchable kind of way. Always smiling, always polite. The kind of girl who said "please" and "thank you" without sounding fake. She had a laugh that could make angels jealous and a silver cross around her neck that caught the light just right, like some divine shield.

And Max? He was everything she wasn’t. Grease under his nails, a cigarette always tucked behind his ear, and a devil-may-care attitude that had sent half the town clutching their pearls. He’d been watching her for weeks now, maybe months. The way she walked, her little rituals—Bible study on Wednesday nights, choir practice on Saturdays, and the absolute certainty that she’d be on her family’s porch every evening at seven, helping her mom snap beans or some other domestic chore that Max couldn’t wrap his head around.

She didn’t belong in his world. Hell, she probably didn’t even know it existed. But that didn’t stop him from wanting her. No, needing her.

It was the way she looked so... pure, he supposed. Untouched by the grime and shadows he carried around like second skin. And it wasn’t just her innocence he wanted to wreck. It was the thought of making her his—really his. Of seeing her in his world, in his trailer, on his bike, wearing his marks, not that dainty little cross that probably smelled of Sunday mornings and lavender soap.

Max didn’t follow her. Not exactly. But he always seemed to know where she’d be, and tonight wasn’t any different. Wednesday night Bible study. He parked his beat-up car down the street from the little white church, hidden enough to keep from drawing attention. Not that anyone would think twice—it wasn’t like he blended in with the choir crowd.

The stained-glass windows glowed softly, warm light spilling out into the cool evening air. He could hear the faint hum of voices, maybe a hymn being sung, as he leaned back against the hood of his car and waited. He lit another cigarette, the flicker of the lighter briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face.

When the front doors finally swung open, he straightened, tossing the half-smoked cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it under his boot. She was the last to leave, as he knew she would be. Everyone else had trickled out in pairs and groups, chatting and laughing as they headed home. But she stayed behind, always locking up on her own.

Tonight, she was struggling with a box full of what looked like hymnals and Bible study materials, juggling it while trying to fit the key into the heavy wooden doors. Max could see the way her fingers fumbled, her brow furrowing in frustration.

Before he could think better of it, he started across the street. The click of his boots on the pavement caught her attention, and she turned her head sharply, her soft eyes widening as she saw him.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking from his face to the box in her arms and then back again. He noticed how she clutched it tighter, like she wasn’t sure if she should trust him.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly, her voice as soft and sweet as he’d imagined. “I’ve got it.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said, stepping closer. Before she could protest, he reached out and took the box from her. Their fingers brushed, and the contrast hit him like a punch to the gut. Her hands were soft, smooth, and clean, while his were rough, calloused, and stained with grease that never seemed to wash off.

“Thanks,” she said reluctantly, looking up at him. He noticed how small she seemed compared to him, how her cross caught the light even in the dark.

“You’re the boy that fixes Daddy’s car,” she said after a beat. “From the shop in town.”

Max raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Didn’t know you knew me.”

“I don’t,” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I just… heard Daddy talking about you. Said you do good work.”

He smirked at that, carrying the box like it weighed nothing and setting it gently down beside her. “Guess I’m a little famous, then.”

She laughed softly, and it was the kind of sound that made something deep in his chest tighten. She reached for her key again, this time managing to lock the doors without the box in her way.

“Thanks for the help,” she said, stepping back and brushing her hands against her skirt.

“Anytime,” he replied, his grin widening. He leaned against the doors, watching her as she adjusted her bag over her shoulder. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated for a moment, her lips parting as if she were about to answer, but then she shook her head. “I should go. My family will be waiting.”

And just like that, she was walking away, her head held high, her skirt swaying gently with each step.

Max watched her until she disappeared around the corner, his grin fading into something darker, more determined.

“See you around,” he muttered under his breath.

Because he would. One way or another.

Max didn’t see her again for days, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t on his mind. She had a way of lingering there, like the scent of rain after a storm—clean, fresh, and completely out of place in his world.

The more he thought about her, the more he couldn’t shake the way her voice had sounded when she’d called him "the boy that fixes Daddy’s car." There was no judgment in it, no disdain. Just a simple observation, like she hadn’t even realised how different their worlds were.

But Max knew. Oh, he knew.

She was the preacher’s daughter, for God’s sake. The girl who probably spent her nights reading scripture and praying for sinners like him. And he? He was the guy people crossed the street to avoid, the one mothers warned their daughters about. He’d left home at fifteen, slept on park benches and under bridges until he’d scraped together enough to buy that rusted-out trailer. He worked double shifts at the garage, spent his weekends drinking cheap beer with guys who wouldn’t bat an eye at a bar fight, and had a reputation that kept most people from looking him in the eye.

He wasn’t good enough for her. He knew that.

Didn’t mean he didn’t want her anyway.

The next Wednesday, he found himself back outside the church, parked in the same spot as before. He hadn’t planned it—at least, that’s what he told himself. But when he saw her again, her laugh carrying across the parking lot as she said goodbye to the last of her Bible study group, he felt that same pull in his chest.

This time, he didn’t approach her. Not yet. Instead, he leaned against his shit box car and watched as she locked the doors, her movements quick and practiced. She wasn’t carrying anything tonight, but she still seemed to pause for a moment, glancing around like she could feel his eyes on her.

He ducked his head, pretending to light a cigarette even though it was already burning. When he glanced back up, she was gone.

The next few days passed in a blur of oil changes, engine repairs, and sleepless nights. Max couldn’t shake the image of her—the way her hands had brushed his, the way she’d looked at him like she was trying to figure him out.

By the time Sunday rolled around, he couldn’t stay away.

He parked his bike a few blocks from the church, out of sight, and watched as families filed in for the morning service. They were all dressed in their Sunday best—dads in pressed suits, moms in floral dresses, kids squirming in their fancy clothes.

And then there she was, walking up the steps with her family. She wore a white dress that stopped just below her knees, her hair pulled back in a way that showed off the delicate line of her neck. The silver cross around her neck gleamed in the sunlight, and Max found himself staring at it, wondering what it would look like tangled with the chains he wore.

Her father was at her side, his hand resting protectively on her shoulder as he greeted the congregation. He was everything Max wasn’t—clean-cut, well-spoken, a man who commanded respect just by standing there.

Max stayed until the doors closed behind her, then turned and walked back to his bike.

He didn’t know what he was doing, or why he couldn’t just let it go. All he knew was that he’d see her again.

And when he did, he’d make her notice him.

Max didn’t plan to follow her after the service, not really. But when he saw her step out of the church alone, her family nowhere in sight, curiosity got the better of him. She walked with purpose, her hands clutching a small book—probably her Bible, he figured—and her expression calm, like she knew exactly where she was going.

He stayed a block or so behind, keeping his footsteps quiet on the pavement. She didn’t seem like the type to sneak off after church, and yet, here she was, turning off the main road and heading toward the park.

When she reached a shaded bench near the pond, she sat down, smoothing her dress before opening her book. Max hung back, watching as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and began to read, her lips moving silently.

He couldn’t stop himself. Hands shoved in his pockets, he sauntered over, his boots crunching on the gravel path. She looked up as he approached, her eyes widening for a moment before settling into something softer, almost expectant.

“I told my daddy I saw you,” she said, closing the book and resting it on her lap.

Max raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And what did he say?”

“That I shouldn’t hang around with people like you,” she replied simply, her voice steady, but her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the book.

He stepped closer, leaning down slightly so they were almost at eye level. “But I don’t see you running,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing.

Her cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze, her expression unflinching. “I’ve noticed you, you know,” she said, tilting her head. “You’re always… around. Outside the church. Watching.”

He straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck. “Can’t help it,” he admitted. “You’re hard to ignore.”

She blinked, her lashes fluttering like she wasn’t sure what to make of that. Then, to his surprise, she smiled—a small, hesitant thing that made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t used to.

“I’ve been praying for you,” she said softly, her hands tightening on the book.

Max couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him, low and rough. “Praying for me, huh? What for?”

“That you’ll find peace,” she said simply, her voice so earnest it made him pause.

He looked at her, really looked at her—the way the sunlight caught in her hair, the way her fingers trembled just a little against the leather cover of her book, the way she seemed so fragile and so unshakable all at once.

“Peace,” he repeated, the word foreign on his tongue. “You think that’s something I’m missing?”

Her smile grew just a fraction, her eyes softening. “Don’t you?”

For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to laugh it off, to brush her words aside like they didn’t hit somewhere deep and uncomfortable. But the way she was looking at him made it impossible.

She shifted slightly on the bench, her hands resting in her lap as she looked at him. “Everyone finds their way,” she said softly, her voice carrying the kind of conviction that made Max’s chest ache. “One way or another. You just have to be willing to see it.”

Max wanted to scoff, to tell her he didn’t have a “way” to find, but the words died in his throat when he noticed it—a faint bruise just below the cuff of her sleeve, barely visible as she adjusted the book in her lap. His eyes narrowed, the casual smirk on his face fading.

“What happened there?” he asked, nodding toward her arm.

She followed his gaze, quickly tugging her sleeve down to cover the mark. “Oh, that?” She gave a small, nervous laugh. “It’s nothing. I play volleyball sometimes with the girls from church. Just got a little too close to the net.”

Max didn’t buy it. The way she spoke, the way her fingers tightened on the fabric of her dress—it didn’t add up. But he didn’t push. Not yet.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes sharp.

She nodded quickly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Positive.”

The silence between them stretched, and Max could feel the distance growing, even though they were sitting inches apart.

“I should get home,” she said suddenly, standing and smoothing out her skirt. “It’s getting late.”

He watched as she picked up her book and slung her bag over her shoulder, the hesitant smile she gave him feeling more like a goodbye than a see-you-later.

“You walking?” he asked, standing as well.

She nodded. “It’s not far.”

He didn’t offer to walk her, knowing she’d probably say no. Instead, he stayed where he was, watching her disappear down the path until she was out of sight.

The next Wednesday, Max found himself back at the church. He hadn’t planned it—at least, that’s what he told himself—but when he saw her locking up the doors again, he couldn’t stop himself from approaching.

She glanced up as he stepped up to the doors, her face lighting up with a mixture of surprise and something softer that made his chest tighten.

“You’re here again,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of teasing.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

She hesitated for a moment, then tilted her head toward the doors. “Do you want to see the inside?”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You offering to give me a tour?”

“Maybe,” she said with a small smile. “If you’re interested.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Show me.”

She unlocked the doors and pushed them open, leading him into the dimly lit sanctuary. The air was cool and quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavier than normal.

“This is where we hold services,” she said, gesturing toward the rows of wooden pews. “And over there is the choir loft.”

Max followed her, his eyes drifting over the stained-glass windows and the simple but elegant decor. It wasn’t the kind of place he ever pictured himself in, but being here with her made it feel… different.

“And where do you ask for forgiveness?” he asked, his voice low as he stepped closer to her.

She paused, then turned and led him to the front of the church. “Here,” she said, motioning toward the altar. “This is where people kneel to pray.”

Max’s gaze flicked from the altar to her, and for a moment, he couldn’t help the thought that slipped into his mind. The idea of her on her knees, not in prayer but for him, sent a rush of something dark and hungry through him.

She knelt down, her hands clasped in front of her as if demonstrating. “You just… let it all out here. Whatever’s on your heart, you bring it to God.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched her, his throat tightening as the image burned itself into his memory. He wondered, fleetingly, what she’d look like if she weren’t here for forgiveness but for him.

“You going to try?” she asked, looking up at him, her expression earnest and full of trust.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. “Not my thing,” he muttered, stepping back.

She stood, brushing off her skirt. “Maybe one day,” she said softly.

Max wasn’t so sure. But he’d come back, if only to see her again.

He didn’t ever think he’d see her in his stomping ground, ever.

The garage smelled like oil and metal, the kind of earthy, gritty scent that clung to Max no matter how much he scrubbed his hands. He was leaned under the hood of an old Chevy—her dad’s car—when he heard the soft jingle of the bell above the shop door.

He straightened, wiping his hands on a rag as she stepped inside. Her presence was like sunlight cutting through the dim, grease-streaked world he lived in.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, leaning against the car and smirking. “Ain’t I usually the one picking you up?”

She stopped a few steps in, her hands clasping the strap of her bag. “I left some college work in my daddy’s car,” she said, her voice steady but careful, like she wasn’t sure how to navigate him in this setting.

Max raised an eyebrow, tossing the rag onto a workbench. “Well, aren’t you lucky I’ve got it right here.”

She hesitated, her eyes flicking to the car before meeting his. “Can I…?”

He stepped aside, gesturing toward the passenger door. “Be my guest.”

She nodded, walking over and leaning into the open door to retrieve her things. Max’s eyes flicked down before he could stop himself, catching a glimpse of her skirt riding up as she bent over, exposing plain white cotton panties that clung to her hips.

It was innocent, unintentional—but it made his pulse spike, his throat tightening as he quickly looked away. His hand clenched into a fist, nails biting into his palm as he forced himself to focus.

Then he saw it—a jagged gash on the side of her thigh, red and raw against her pale skin. His smirk faded, replaced by a frown as something twisted in his gut.

“You gonna tell me what happened there?” he asked, nodding toward her leg.

She froze for a moment before straightening, clutching her notebook tightly against her chest. “Oh,” she said, glancing down at the cut. “It’s nothing. I was playing with my brother in the park, and the ball rolled into some bushes. I went to get it and scratched myself on a branch.”

Max folded his arms, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “You’ve got an awful lot of bad luck, don’t you? First volleyball, now this.”

Her eyes darted to his, wide and a little panicked. “It’s the truth,” she said quickly, but her voice wavered just enough to betray her.

He stepped closer, his presence looming as he leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “Lying’s a sin, you know.”

Her lips parted, and for a moment, she looked like she might crumble. But then her shoulders straightened, and she lifted her chin, defiance flashing in her eyes. “I believe you should worry about the long list of sins you’ve racked up,” she shot back, her voice trembling but firm.

Max smirked at that, the sharp edge of his grin making her swallow hard. “I thought you were praying for me,” he said, his tone almost teasing but laced with something darker.

She stared at him, her hands tightening on her notebook until her knuckles turned white. “I should go,” she said finally, her voice clipped.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he replied, stepping back just enough to let her pass.

She turned and walked out, her steps quick and purposeful, the door swinging shut behind her with a jingle that felt louder than it should have.

Max watched her go, the tension in his chest twisting into something heavier. He didn’t believe her for a second. But the look in her eyes—the mix of fear, defiance, and something else he couldn’t quite name—made him want to figure out exactly what she was hiding.

And he would. One way or another.

A few days later, Max was leaning under the hood of yet another clunker when his manager strolled over, clipboard in hand.

“Got a favor to ask,” the older man grumbled. “Preacher’s too busy to pick up his car. Needs it dropped off at his place.”

Max straightened, rubbing his hands on a rag, his pulse quickening at the mention of her house. He didn’t even have to think about it.

“I’ll do it,” he said casually, masking the eagerness bubbling under his skin. “Got time.”

His manager raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Max tossed the rag aside, the corner of his mouth tugging into a grin. “Consider it handled.”

By the time he pulled up to the preacher’s house in the old Chevy, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the house in a warm, golden light. He killed the engine, climbing out and leaning against the car for a moment.

That’s when he heard it.

The sound drifted through the open window—a soft, mournful piano melody that sent a shiver down his spine. It was beautiful, haunting even, and he knew immediately that it was her.

He stood there, listening, his chest tightening as each note seemed to carry a weight he couldn’t quite place. Then, as the song trailed off, he forced himself to move, stepping up to the door and knocking firmly.

The music stopped. A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and there she was.

She looked different. Vulnerable.

Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and she was wearing a simple pair of pyjamas—pale blue cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt that hung loosely on her frame. She blinked up at him, clearly surprised, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Brought your dad’s car back.”

“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft and a little hoarse.

His eyes drifted lower, and that’s when he saw it—a dark, fresh bruise blooming along her forearm, just visible under the edge of her sleeve.

His chest tightened, and before he could stop himself, his hand reached out, his rough fingers brushing against the tender skin.

She flinched, but not away. Her lips parted, her eyes flicking up to meet his, wide and uncertain.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low but laced with tension.

She pulled her arm back, wrapping it around herself like a shield. “I’ve been sick,” she murmured, her words hesitant. “That’s why I’ve been home. Just… clumsy, I guess.”

He didn’t believe her. Not for a second.

“Sick, huh?” he said, his voice edged with scepticism.

She nodded, but the way her gaze darted to the floor gave her away.

For a moment, the air between them felt heavy, charged with something neither of them seemed able to name. Max’s hand hovered at his side, aching to reach out again, but he forced himself to step back.

The sound of heavy footsteps broke the moment, and Max turned just as her father appeared in the doorway.

“Evening,” the preacher said, his voice warm but commanding, his eyes flicking between Max and his daughter.

“Car’s good as new,” Max said, holding out the keys. “She’ll run smooth for you.”

“Appreciate it,” the preacher replied, taking the keys with a nod.

Max hesitated, glancing at her one last time. “You know where to find me if you need anything. Always here for you to rely on the car.”

His words were meant for her father, but his eyes stayed on her, making sure she understood the double meaning.

The preacher didn’t seem to notice. “Thank you, son,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crisp bill. He handed it to Max with a firm handshake.

Max nodded, pocketing the tip without looking at it. As he stepped back, the preacher gave him a polite smile before closing the door firmly, leaving Max staring at the wood grain.

The following morning sun filtered weakly through the dusty blinds of Max’s trailer, casting long shadows over the cluttered space. He was sprawled on his bed, one leg hanging off the side, barely awake when he heard it—a soft, hesitant knock at the door.

For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, the sound so light it could’ve been the wind rattling the screen. But then it came again, firmer this time.

Grumbling under his breath, Max swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. He shuffled to the door in nothing but his boxers, too groggy to care about decency.

When he pulled the door open, he froze.

There she was, standing on the cracked wooden steps of his trailer.

She looked like she’d stepped out of another world—her crisp white blouse tucked into a pale blue skirt that swayed lightly in the breeze, her hair perfectly combed and pinned back. But her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks blotchy, and there was a tremble in her lip that told him she’d been crying.

Her gaze flicked downward, catching sight of his bare chest and boxer-clad frame. Her face flushed pink, and she quickly looked away, clutching the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Max blinked, his grogginess evaporating in an instant. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice rough from sleep.

She didn’t answer right away, just stared down at the ground like she couldn’t meet his eyes. He stepped back, holding the door open wider. “You wanna come in?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, stepping over the threshold.

As she entered, the contrast between her polished appearance and the rough, lived-in state of his trailer couldn’t have been starker. The cramped space was cluttered with tools, half-empty coffee mugs, and a laundry basket overflowing with clothes. She looked out of place, like a dove dropped into the middle of a storm.

Max closed the door behind her, leaning against it as he crossed his arms. “You okay?” he asked, his tone softer now.

She stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around herself. “I… I didn’t want to stay at home,” she said quietly.

The way her voice cracked on the last word made his chest tighten.

“What happened?” he asked, stepping closer but keeping his distance, giving her space to speak.

She shook her head, her fingers gripping her bag tighter. “I… I snuck out,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I couldn’t stay there anymore.”

Max’s jaw tightened. He wanted to ask why, but he already knew. He’d known for weeks.

Finally, she looked up at him, tears brimming in her wide, frightened eyes. “It’s my daddy,” she whispered. “He… he hits me.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and raw.

Max’s fists clenched at his sides, his whole body going rigid. “How long’s this been going on?” he asked, his voice low and tight.

She looked away, her gaze darting to the corner of the room as if she could hide from the question. “As long as I can remember,” she said finally, her voice barely audible.

Max swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to punch something, to drag her father out into the street and make him pay. But more than anything, he wanted to make her feel safe.

“You should’ve told someone,” he said, his voice softer now, though the anger still simmered just beneath the surface.

Her eyes snapped back to his, a flash of fear and desperation in them. “I couldn’t,” she said quickly. “I can’t. If people knew, it’d ruin everything. My daddy’s the preacher. People look up to him. They’d never believe me.”

Max stepped closer, his rough hands itching to reach out and touch her, to ground her somehow. But he didn’t. Not yet.

“You don’t have to go back there,” he said firmly. “You can stay here. No one’s gonna hurt you while I’m around.”

Her gaze softened, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Why do you care so much?”

Max let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You think I can just stand by and let this happen? After everything I’ve seen…” He paused, meeting her gaze head-on. “You’re not like the rest of us. You don’t belong in a place like that.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the space between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken words. She looked like she might say something, but then a tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” she said suddenly, backing toward the door. “I didn’t mean to bother you—”

“You’re not bothering me,” Max said firmly, cutting her off.

She hesitated, her hand hovering near the door handle.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to decide whether she could trust him. Finally, she nodded, just barely, and let her hand fall away from the door.

Max rubbed the back of his neck again, his eyes never leaving her face as she stood there, caught between leaving and staying. He could see the battle in her—wanting to run but needing something, someone, to anchor her.

“You can stay here tonight,” he said, his voice steady but gentle, like he was trying not to spook her.

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. She looked around the cramped trailer, at the cluttered counters and the sagging couch, her delicate hands gripping the strap of her bag like it was a lifeline.

“I don’t know…” she started, her voice faltering.

“No one’ll bother you here,” Max said, stepping closer. “You’ll be safe. And if you want to leave in the morning, you can. No strings.”

She bit her lip, the hesitation etched in every line of her face.

“But…” she whispered, looking up at him, “I need to go to Sunday service.”

Max blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in her tone.

“While I’m mad at my daddy,” she continued, her voice growing steadier, “I still have to go. I can’t not be there. It’s… it’s important to me.”

Her words hung in the air, a quiet plea wrapped in conviction.

Max nodded without hesitation. “I’ll take you,” he said simply. “First thing in the morning.”

She blinked up at him, a flicker of relief crossing her features. “You promise?”

“Yeah,” he said, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Scout’s honor.”

That drew a small, hesitant smile from her, though it quickly faded as her gaze dropped to the floor again.

“I’ll stay,” she said softly, almost like she didn’t believe the words herself.

Max exhaled, the tension in his chest easing just slightly. “Good. Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing vaguely around the trailer. “It’s not much, but it’s better than where you came from.”

She nodded, her movements stiff and unsure, like she didn’t quite know how to exist in this space.

“I gotta get to work,” Max added, glancing at the clock on the wall. “But you’re welcome to stay as long as you want. Bed is yours, and there’s food in the fridge—though, fair warning, it’s mostly leftovers and beer.”

That earned him a faint, almost amused look, and he felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“I’ll be fine,” she said quietly.

Max hesitated for a moment, then reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. His touch was light, careful, but firm enough to ground her.

“You’re safe here,” he said, his voice low but certain.

She nodded again, her gaze flicking up to meet his, and for a moment, the silence between them felt warm, comforting.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” he said, stepping toward his makeshift bedroom grabbing some clothes and slipping them on. “If you need anything—anything at all—you call me, alright? Danny down the road has my number, he’s got the graffiti all over his trailer.”

“Alright,” she replied, her voice steadier now.

With one last glance over his shoulder, Max stepped out into the morning light, the door clicking shut behind him. As he walked toward his beat-up car, a strange mix of emotions swirled in his chest—anger, protectiveness, and something else he couldn’t quite name.

She’d taken a risk coming to him, and he wasn’t about to let her down. Not now. Not ever.

Max worked through the afternoon with his head barely in the game. The thought of her in his trailer—his space—kept creeping into his mind. He couldn’t shake the image of her standing there, looking so out of place, like she belonged somewhere far away from this rundown world he inhabited. The image of her soft eyes and trembling lip haunted him as he fixed engines and cleaned up at the shop.

By the time he came back to the trailer, the evening sun had already dipped behind the horizon, casting a pale, dusky glow over everything. He turned the key in the door, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing in the quiet.

And then he froze.

The trailer didn’t look the same.

It was spotless.

The clutter on the counters, the dirty dishes, the laundry piled up in the corner—all of it was gone. The floor was swept, the counters wiped down, and there was even a faint smell of something cooking, something hearty and savory. Max took a step inside, his eyes scanning the room as if he was seeing it for the first time.

And there she was, standing in the kitchen.

She had slipped into one of his old band t-shirts—black and faded with the edges curling up—and paired it with the skirt she’d worn earlier. Her hair was still down, a little messy from the day, but there was something about the way she moved around his space that made her seem... at ease. She was focused on the stove, stirring something in a pot, humming quietly to herself as if she belonged.

Max felt a sudden knot in his stomach, a wave of desire mixed with something deeper—something protective. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping down to her legs, exposed beneath the hem of the shirt, and then back up to her face. She didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in what she was doing, and he took a few moments to just watch her.

She looked so out of place in his world—his messy, cluttered world—but at the same time, she fit perfectly.

She caught sight of him, and a warm, almost shy smile spread across her face. "I wasn’t sure what you liked, but I found some stuff in the cupboard. It’s not much, but I thought… I could make you something."

Max’s chest tightened at the sincerity in her voice. He had no idea she could cook.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, his voice rough with something unspoken. He stepped further into the trailer, noticing that she’d even made the bed. The blankets were neatly arranged, the pillow fluffed, the whole room looking like it belonged in some kind of hotel. It felt... new.

She shrugged, a little embarrassed. "It's the least I could do. You’ve been so kind to me... I wanted to help, in some way."

Max ran a hand over his jaw, fighting the urge to reach out and pull her close. Her presence was intoxicating, her gentle kindness disarming. The way she stood there, so effortless in his space, made something inside him shift. His heart beat faster as he moved toward the kitchen, unable to resist the pull of her.

She turned back to the stove, unaware of the war going on inside him. He couldn’t help but glance at the way her shirt rode up on her thighs, the curve of her hips, and the soft skin of her exposed legs. His mind flashed to earlier—when she’d stepped into his trailer with those wide eyes, trembling and vulnerable. And now, she was here, looking like she belonged to him in ways she probably didn’t even realise.

His hands clenched at his sides. He needed to calm down.

“You didn’t have to clean everything up,” he said, trying to focus on something other than how badly he wanted to kiss her, touch her, feel her beneath his hands.

“I don’t mind,” she replied, her voice soft. “It felt wrong to just sit around, so I figured I could do something. It’s a mess here, but I… I wanted it to feel like home for a bit.”

Home.

The word hit him harder than he expected. Max didn’t know what it meant to feel at home. His life had always been a constant hustle, scraping by, living in his car, barely getting by. But here, with her, in the middle of this trailer—he felt like maybe he could understand it, just a little bit.

She stirred the pot again, and Max took a deep breath. His body was tight with the need to do something—to touch her, hold her—but he fought it down.

He stepped closer, casually leaning against the counter. “You sure you’re okay with all this?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, casual.

She glanced at him, her eyes soft but unreadable. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing, her gaze steady. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m scared, Max.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, his fingers brushing the back of her hand. Her skin was soft, delicate, and his pulse skipped in response. She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t look at him either.

Max leaned in just slightly, his breath catching in his throat as he whispered, “I’ll keep you safe, I swear.”

There was a moment of silence. And then, in the quietest voice, almost as if she were speaking to herself, she whispered, “I believe you.”

And in that moment, something inside Max shifted completely. He didn’t just want her. He needed to protect her. To keep her from harm.

The tension in the air was thick, and he knew if he didn’t walk away now, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. His hand lingered on hers for just a second longer before he pulled away, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Let’s eat,” he said, trying to mask the urgency in his voice, trying to ground himself again.

Max didn’t have a proper dining table—hell, he barely had enough room for his sofa—but tonight, that didn’t matter.

He took a seat on the old sofa, and she settled beside him, carefully placing the plates of food between them. The smell of whatever she’d made filled the air—something simple but satisfying, with just a hint of warmth that made it feel like a real meal. It was the first time in a while that Max had felt something other than hunger when he sat down to eat.

As she set her fork down and looked at her hands, she murmured something under her breath, her voice soft and steady. Max was halfway through a bite when he realised she was praying.

He watched her quietly, noting the calmness in her demeanor, the way her hands were folded neatly in front of her. Her lips moved with the words, a quiet reverence that made the air in the room feel still, almost sacred.

When she finished, she looked at him, a small, shy smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Sorry,” she said, her cheeks flushed. “It’s just… habit.”

Max shook his head, swallowing the lump in his throat. “No need to apologise,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He found it cute—no, charming—how she prayed before every meal, how that simple act of faith seemed to give her some semblance of peace. He had no idea what that kind of peace felt like.

They ate quietly, the sound of forks scraping against plates the only noise between them. There was something almost intimate about this simple moment—the way she sat beside him, the way she kept her space but still seemed to fill the room.

It wasn’t long before Max’s mind started to wander again, and his gaze drifted down to her hand as she picked up her glass of water. He noticed the ring on her finger, the simple silver band catching the light.

“What’s that?” he asked, his voice casual, though his stomach clenched slightly.

She looked down at it, almost absentmindedly, before meeting his gaze. “It’s a purity ring,” she said, her voice quiet, almost reverent.

Max froze, his fork half-raised to his mouth. A purity ring. The thought hit him like a punch to the gut, a wave of something dark and primal swirling beneath the surface. She wore it like a promise, a promise to stay pure, to wait for marriage, to avoid the kinds of things he’d spent most of his life seeking out—things he wasn’t sure he could even offer her if she wanted them.

His thoughts scrambled, his chest tightening. He forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat and shifted on the couch, trying to ignore the tightening in his jeans. He couldn’t help himself. The idea of her—innocent, pure, wearing a ring like that—drove him mad. It made him think things he shouldn’t, things that went against the very core of who she was.

He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from the thoughts swirling in his head. “I, uh… I think you should take the bed,” he said abruptly. “I’ll crash here on the couch.”

She gave him a soft look, her expression kind, though there was something in her eyes that told him she wasn’t used to accepting charity—or favours of any kind.

“Thank you,” she said, glancing at the bed and then back at him.

She stood up, taking both their plates to the sink and left him in the makeshift living room.

Max settled back onto the small couch, but sleep didn’t come easy. He was restless, his mind too filled with thoughts of her, her innocence, her sweetness, and that damn purity ring. Even though there was a whole doorframe separating the two of them, the room felt too small. His chest too tight. His body too aware of everything that was happening in that tiny space between them.

Eventually, he shifted again, sighing in frustration as he tossed the blanket off of himself. The couch wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was too small for someone his size. He needed to stretch out.

A few minutes later, he heard the soft creak of the floorboards. He turned his head slightly, squinting through the dim light. She was standing in the doorway, her silhouette outlined by the faint glow of his beside table.

“Max?” Her voice was soft, tentative.

He sat up, blinking. “Yeah?”

“I—uh, I can’t sleep,” she admitted, stepping further into the room. “And you look... uncomfortable on the couch.” She hesitated, then bit her lip. “Would you, um, want to sleep in the bed with me? Just... just for tonight?”

Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He should’ve said no. He knew he should’ve. But she was standing there in his shirt, her hair falling messily around her shoulders, and her eyes—those soft, uncertain eyes—were pleading with him in a way that made him feel like he was the one who needed her comfort.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice tight.

She nodded, her hands trembling just slightly as she pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Please. I just—” She paused, biting her lip, as if searching for the right words. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Max’s heart twisted in his chest. He could’ve said something else—told her it was fine, that she should rest, or something like that. But he was done with pretending he didn’t want to be close to her, to feel her next to him.

“Alright,” he muttered, standing up. “But, uh... let me put on a shirt.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and he could’ve sworn he saw the smallest flicker of a smile on her lips. “Okay,” she whispered, turning her back to give him some space.

He grabbed a random shirt from the pile of clean laundry on the floor, pulling it on over his bare chest, and then slipped under the covers beside her. She had already crawled under the blankets, pulling them tightly around her.

Max settled in beside her, keeping a careful distance at first. But the bed was small, and it didn’t take long for her to inch closer. He could feel her warmth at his side, the soft rise and fall of her chest with each breath, the delicate scent of her hair mixing with the familiar scent of his worn sheets.

The morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the trailer, casting a soft glow across the room. Max slowly woke up, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his side. Her head rested on his chest, her soft breathing filling the quiet room.

For a moment, Max just stayed still, letting the comfort of her closeness wash over him. His arm had instinctively wrapped around her while they slept, and he could feel the warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

But as his body began to wake up fully, so did a familiar discomfort: the pressure of his morning problem, straining against the fabric of his boxers. His breath caught, and he tried to shift subtly, hoping she wouldn’t wake up and notice the situation. She didn’t. She just remained nestled against him, her breath slow and steady.

Max let out a slow breath, trying to ignore the growing tension in his body. He kept his arm around her for a moment longer, relishing the softness of her against him, before reluctantly moving it.

Her movements eventually stirred him from his thoughts, though. He felt her shift and heard her small, quiet sigh as she began to stir. She slowly pushed herself up and away from him, the weight of her head leaving his chest.

Max watched as she stood up, stretching lightly before walking toward the small kitchen area. The simple act of her moving around his trailer felt domestic, a little surreal. He never imagined a girl like her would be here, in his space, making herself at home.

She turned on the old coffee maker and started washing the dishes from the night before, humming softly to herself. Her bare feet moved across the worn linoleum floor as she worked, picking up the plates, scrubbing them clean with a kind of focused determination. Max watched her, a little mesmerised by the way she went about everything with ease. She was so domestic, so... pure.

After a while, she glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said quietly. “I usually make something nice on a Sunday.”

Max shook his head, trying to get his bearings. “I don’t mind at all.” His voice was still rough with sleep. “Thank you.”

She smiled softly and got to work, preparing eggs, toast, and whatever else she could find in his meager supplies. Max sat up, rubbing his eyes. He watched her as she moved, the way her shirt clung to her in all the right places, how she seemed so comfortable here despite how out of place she looked in his world.

Eventually, she finished up with the dishes and turned to him. “I need to get ready for church.” Her eyes softened a little, as though she could sense the hesitation in his. “Can y—��

“I’ll take you. I just don’t have a car right now. It’s in the garage.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and for a moment, Max thought she might protest, but instead, she just nodded. “Okay.”

He took a quick shower and threw on some old jeans and a t-shirt. He didn’t exactly have a wardrobe that screamed “church-going,” but it was the best he could do. He wasn’t there to make a statement anyway—just to get her there and make sure she was safe.

When he stepped out of the small bathroom, he found her already dressed in her Sunday best—yesterday’s shirt and skirt with a cardigan she must have pulled out her bag. Her hair was perfectly styled, like she’d just walked out of a church bulletin. She looked so out of place in his trailer, so polished and pristine compared to the worn, dirty space they were in.

Max grabbed his helmet and walked over to her, holding it out. “Here,” he said, the words laced with a slight smirk. “You’re gonna need this.”

She looked at him curiously but didn’t argue. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. You’re not walking to church, and you’re definitely not riding behind me without it.” He grinned, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

With a small, reluctant smile, she took the helmet from him, adjusting it over her head, the loose strands of her hair sticking out slightly. Max handed her the extra jacket he had and then motioned to the door. “Let’s get going. I’ll get you there early so no one sees you.”

She nodded, slipping on the jacket and walking toward the door with him. Max grabbed the keys to his bike and headed outside, securing the helmet on her head.

The engine of his old bike roared to life, the sound rattling the air around them. Max felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, the wind in his face as they drove, but his focus wasn’t on the speed or the feel of the bike. It was on her, sitting behind him, her body pressed close to his, the weight of her on his back both grounding and electrifying him.

They took the back roads, keeping a low profile, making sure no one would notice them together. Max didn’t want to bring any attention to her. He didn’t want anyone to see her with him, not yet. She was too pure, too innocent to be caught up in his world.

They arrived just before everyone else, the small church looming in front of them as the sun began to rise. Max parked the bike in the back and cut the engine, then turned to look at her.

“Thanks for coming with me,” she said softly, slipping off the bike.

Max nodded, watching her walk toward the steps of the church, her figure straight and composed. As she walked away from him, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of something—something he couldn’t quite name. It was a mix of jealousy, admiration, and something darker that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He didn’t know why he stayed in the parking lot. Maybe it was the quiet that clung to the air after the service ended, or maybe it was the feeling of something unfinished between him and her. He waited, watching as the congregation filed out of the church, families chatting, some with smiles on their faces, others with the weight of the week still on their shoulders.

He saw her mother, walking alongside her brother, exchanging a few words with the other churchgoers. But no sign of her. His gaze swept over the parking lot once more, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Maybe she had stayed behind for a little longer.

Minutes passed, and Max’s unease grew. She hadn’t come out.

Frowning, he swung his leg off the bike and walked toward the church’s front doors. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to check on her, but something in him insisted. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, as if sensing danger.

Max approached the side of the church, his boots scraping the gravel beneath him. A faint voice reached his ears—just a whisper at first, but then it grew louder, more frantic. It sounded like shouting, distorted by the walls of the building, but it was unmistakably hers.

His heart skipped a beat.

He moved quickly toward the sound, pushing open a side door. The hallway inside was dimly lit, the walls cold and echoing with every step. He followed the noise, barely hearing his own footsteps as he crept closer to the source.

And then he saw them.

She was on the floor, her hands trembling in front of her, her back hunched as though she was trying to make herself as small as possible. Her father was standing over her, his voice a low growl of fury, loud enough to rattle the air between them.

“You’re a dirty slut!” he spat. “You’re going to hell for what you’ve done!”

Max’s blood ran cold, and for a moment, he didn’t think.

With a quick motion, he stepped forward, his voice calm but cold. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The preacher spun around, his face twisted with rage, recognizing Max.

“Stay out of this, boy,” the preacher growled, his hand still raised in the air.

But before the preacher could make another move, she stood up, her breath ragged, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else—hope? Maybe it was desperation.

Without a second thought, she ran toward Max. She didn’t hesitate, her arms reaching out to him as if he were her only anchor in the storm.

“Max,” she whispered, almost too softly to hear, but Max felt the weight of it all the same.

Max put his hands on her shoulders, turning her so that she was standing slightly behind him. His eyes never left the preacher, his voice steady.

“You know, preacher,” Max began, his voice low and measured, “God loves justice and establishes equity.” He tilted his head slightly, as if recalling something. “Psalm 99:4, right? I’m sure that’s a scripture I heard your daughter read once in Bible study. Can’t be exerting your authority in such ways, can you?”

The preacher’s face went red with anger, his hands balling into fists. “Get out of here, boy. This is none of your business.”

Max didn’t flinch. “You’re right,” he said calmly. “It’s none of my business. But I’ll make sure it’s yours.”

He motioned to her. “Go wait by the bike.” His voice softened just for her, the harshness fading away. “Go on, I’ll be right there.”

She hesitated for just a moment, looking at him like she wanted to say something, but instead, she turned and walked quickly toward the door. Max watched her go, his heart pounding in his chest.

The preacher made a move to stop her, but Max stepped forward, his patience snapping.

“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Max growled.

The preacher lunged at him, but Max was faster, his fist connecting with the preacher’s jaw before he had a chance to land a blow. The sound of the punch echoed in the small hallway, and the preacher staggered backward, his hands gripping the edge of the wall for support.

Max stepped forward, his voice cold. “I don’t care who you think you are. You put your hands on her again, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The preacher was on his knees now, his face a mixture of shock and fury. Max didn’t wait to hear more. He turned on his heel, walking out the door to find her standing by his bike, waiting as if she hadn’t just been on the receiving end of a storm.

He nodded to her, not saying anything more, his mind racing with the anger he’d just unleashed. But all he wanted now was to get her away from here, away from him.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, handing her the helmet.

She didn’t say anything as she put it on, but the silent understanding between them spoke volumes. Max revved the engine, feeling the rush of power beneath him as he led her away from the church, away from the hell that had just erupted there.

The ride back to the trailer was eerily quiet. Max could feel the tension in the air between them, thick and heavy, the weight of everything that had just happened hanging between them. She sat behind him, her grip tight on his waist, but there was no laughter, no playful banter like there had been before. It felt like the world had shifted somehow, and the silence stretched endlessly as they rode.

Max didn’t glance back at her. He kept his eyes straight ahead, focusing on the road, but all he could think about was what he’d just done. He knew he’d put himself in danger, confronting her father like that. He didn’t care. But for the first time, he couldn’t ignore the burning question: What did he really think he was doing?

The only sound on the road was the roar of the engine beneath them, a constant reminder of the distance they had yet to travel. Every twist and turn of the road seemed to reflect the turmoil inside of him, but he had no words for it, no way to express the chaos in his head.

When they finally pulled into the trailer park, the sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the worn pavement. Max parked the bike and cut the engine, the sudden silence of the world around them making the tension between them all the more palpable.

They didn’t speak as they walked inside, the door creaking as it opened into the small, dimly lit space. Max stepped aside to let her enter first, but the moment the door closed behind them, she removed the helmet and her composure seemed to crumble.

She stood there for a long moment, just breathing, as if she was trying to collect herself, but it was clear she wasn’t okay. Max watched her, his heart tightening when he saw the tears beginning to well in her eyes. She couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Before he could say anything, she collapsed into him. Her body shook as she buried her face against his chest, her sobs muffled against his shirt. Max’s arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her in close, his own breath shaky from the unexpected surge of emotion he felt at seeing her so broken.

“It’s okay,” he whispered softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “I’ve got you, shhh.”

She didn’t respond, just continued to cry, the sound raw and heartbreaking. Max gently ran his hand down her back, trying to comfort her in the only way he knew how. He wiped the tears off her face with his thumb, brushing her hair back from her forehead. His chest tightened with every sob that wracked her body, every quiet sob that he couldn’t take away.

“Don’t cry,” he said quietly, though his words felt powerless against the pain she was clearly feeling. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it, sweetheart.”

She pulled away slightly, her tear-streaked face making his chest ache even more. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable, a rawness that shook him to his core. She didn’t say anything; she didn’t need to. He could see everything in her expression, the hurt and confusion and fear.

Without a word, Max guided her to the small bed in the corner of the trailer, not sure what else to do. He wanted to fix everything, to make her feel safe, but he knew that wasn’t something he could do with words alone.

They sat on the edge of the bed, and she let him help her lie down. He crawled in next to her, his arm draping over her shoulders as she curled up against him. The space felt small, but it was warm. She was warm.

Max didn’t say anything as he laid beside her, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. He just held her. The silence between them was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was quiet, like the calm after the storm, both of them lost in the stillness of the moment.

Her breathing eventually slowed, her sobs quieter now, though her body still trembled slightly from the emotions that had flooded her. Max stayed close, not letting go. His fingers gently traced the outline of her arm as he held her close, not knowing exactly what to say to make it better, but knowing that being there, holding her, was enough—for now.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his voice soft and unwavering, as he placed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not anymore.”

Then a weird thought came to Max as he watched hee sleep in his arms.

She’d prayed for his peace.

And while he wasn’t a believer.

He sure as hell felt at peace.

part two out now!

755 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 8 months ago

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLBnwGM5/

Hi there again! I saw this tiktok and it immediately made me think of the boys. Do you think you could write something with Sirius or Remus coming home drunk and just being completely drunken lover boys and just r trying to hold back their laughs but also blushing and completely over taken by adoration of their boy. Hahah any way hope you have an amazing day!

omg babes this is so funny and cute. and I clearly didn't read your request carefully enough because you asked for Sirius or Remus but I gave you both 🫢 terribly sorry, please do forgive me. side note: I'm so pissed because I was going to tag this one poly!marauders fic that had the same premise and James comes home going "I hope she does wake up I missed her so much I think I'm going to throw up" all in the same breath and Sirius just abandons him and Moony in the kitchen to snuggle their girl and I can't find it! I actually scoured all my faves master lists to try to find it for you and I can't 😭 update!: a few followers did some sleuthing and found it, it's this fic by @luveline!!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader when the boys come home drunk [and in love]

CW: mentions of drinking and drunkeness

You woke to the feeling of the bed dipping gently once, and then much less gently a second time.

“Pads, for fuck’s- Hi dovey.” Remus began hissing at Sirius before you opened your eyes to see him lying before you.

“Oh! Is she up now?” Sirius said approximately three decibels louder than necessary as he threw his heavy arm over your waist and roughly pulled you into his chest.

“Missed you s’much.” He slurred as he shoved his face into your neck.

“Mm, was boy’s night fun?” You asked through a stretch, sleep causing your words to tumble inelegantly out of your mouth.

“No.” Sirius harrumphed quickly as Remus moved a clumsy yet gentle hand to the side of your face.

“It was fun.” He conceded, earning him an indignant “was not” from your neck.

“Why didn’t you have fun, Sirius?”

Sirius scoffed as if you had asked a particularly ridiculous question. “Uhm, because my best girl wasn’t there?” He muttered into your hair, pulling you impossibly further into his chest.

“You’re gonna squash her, Sirius.” Remus admonished.

“Fine. Roll over babydoll.” Sirius ordered, pulling his arms away only to paw at your shoulder in an attempt to encourage you onto your other side.

You weren’t awake enough for this.

“Siri.” You whined petulantly. “What time is it?”

“Almost three.” Remus answered readily.

“Roll over.” Sirius asked again.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I wanna see your- your beautiful face.” Even through his slurring and hiccups, he still managed to be an incorrigible flirt.

“No, leave her. I’m looking at her right now.” Remus argued. You had to smother a laugh at how un-Remus-like he sounded when drunk, and made a mental note to tell him in the morning how petulant he was just to be rewarded with that beautiful blush you knew he’d wear.

“Tough; you’ll just have to look at me.” Sirius countered.

“I had to look at you all night!”

“Had to? Just what is- is that s’posed to mean, Moons?”

“Sirius, knock it - ouch!” Remus reached over you to return a mean pinch to Sirius’ side, causing an all out war to break out between the two.

“Fuckin’ hell.” You muttered as you extricated yourself from the bed. You barely made it down the hall before you heard a painful sounding thump and footsteps chasing you.

“Dovey! Wait!” Remus called, a little more out of breath than the few feet from your bedroom really called for. “You can’t go into the kitchen.”

You felt your face scrunch up in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because Remus broke a glass!” Sirius called, limping over from the bedroom.

“Squealer.” Remus muttered at Sirius as he teetered slightly into the wall beside him. “M’sorry dove. I dropped it in the- in the sink and will clean it tomorrow when, uhm…”

“When the world’s not so spinny anymore.” Sirius finished for him, nodding sagely at his own decree.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” You asked, looking carefully at his hands for any signs of blood.

“That’s so nice of you to ask.” He whispered in awe, allowing you to manipulate his hands in yours.

“Don’t act so surprised, Moony.” Sirius slurred. “She’s literally the nicest girl in the world.”

“She really is.” Remus agreed.

You blushed furiously and continued into the kitchen, mindful of any potential broken glass on the floor - though you were happy to note that it did appear all damage was contained within the sink - to grab three bottles of water from the fridge.

“I actually love her so much.” You heard Sirius whisper to Remus from around the corner.

“Me too.” Remus whispered back.

“I am so in love it’s actually a little bit embarrassing.”

“Me too.” Remus agreed again.

“Do you think she loves us as much?”

“Impossible.”

“Yeah I don’t think so either.”

“Well that’s not fair.” You interrupted as you rounded the corner again. “No one asked for my input.”

“Sorry, dollface. It’s just, I’m so far gone for you and Remus here is a certified simp so I already know it’s im- impossible for you to love us nearly as much.”

“It’s not a competition, Siri.” You admonished lovingly, handing him a bottle of water before passing one to Remus.

“You got these for us?” Remus whispered, sounding alarmingly close to tears. You chuckled at him and touched his cheek.

“‘Course I did, handsome.”

He shook his head as he stared at you in awe. “No; I definitely love you the most.”

“You do not!” Sirius argued quickly.

“It’s not a competition!” You reiterated.

“Fine.” They chorused as they followed you obediently to the bedroom.

“But if it was, I’d win.” Sirius proclaimed as he fell face first into the mattress.

Remus snorted before chugging almost half the bottle of water and dribbling some onto his sleep shirt.

“Did you break the glass trying to get a drink, bubs?” You asked him as you took the water bottle from him to recap it and he fought to catch his breath.

“Yeah.” He admitted looking terribly shamefaced. “I gave up on having water after that.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead before climbing into bed to situate yourself between the two boys.

You pressed your back into Remus in order to face Sirius who was already out cold and snoring lightly.

“You should’ve seen him tonight.” Remus started through a yawn. “Some girl tried hitting on him and he started screaming and asked me to ‘take him home to the most beautiful girl’.”

You held your hand to your mouth afraid that your beaming smile would somehow wake up Sirius for being entirely too bright.

“Yeah? What’d you do?”

You could tell Remus was nearly asleep when he finally answered you, sleep dragging out the syllables as he whispered them into your hair.

“I brought him home to you.”

1K notes · View notes

latenightdaydreams · 8 months ago

Text

König x Cockwarming!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

>CW: fem/afab reader, weed smoking, cock warming, p in v, slight pee but not a major focus

1.9k word count

For more: Master list

König walked through the front door of the house and started to take off his boots followed by his gear. He can hear coughing in the house, he knew you were smoking weed. You’re his little stoner baby. He began to walk to the stairs before climbing them and making his way to the bedroom. He saw you sitting on the bed crisscross with a pink bong in your hands. You’re taking a long hit before you look up and let out a slow stream of smoke.

“Hey Kö,” You smile at him. Your eyes red from smoking for the last twenty minutes. You were wearing only one of his shirts that fit like a dress and a pair of red cotton underwear, his favorite color. The TV playing in the background on a show you’ve already watched a hundred times before.

“Hallo Liebling,” He pulls his mask off, showing his scarred face and messy blonde hair. The black eye make-up smudged across his face as he smiles at you, his sharp k9s showing.

Your eyes follow him in the room as he goes to the bathroom and begins to wash his face. You can’t help but to smirk as you watch him, wondering how you got so lucky.

“How was your day today?”

König lets out a low groan when you mention work, “It was hell. I had a group of new recruits come into my team. All so stupid, no one listens!” He complains as he turns to dry his face off on the towel behind the door.

“I’m sorry baby,” you say with an adorable pout on your face. König can’t help but to smile when he sees you.

Leaving the bathroom, he walks towards you on the bed and kneels on the ground beside you. He reaches out and grabs one of your hands and kisses it over and over again, “How was your day Schatz?”

“I cleaned and read some. Now I’m just relaxing.” You can’t help but to giggle from the way he looks at you with such loving and intense eyes. His touch is warm and tender.

“I noticed, thank you for that baby.” He kisses your hand some more before looking up at your red eyes and smirk on your face. König slowly reaches his hand out and begins to rub your thigh, his eyes glued to the beautiful color of your soft skin. “You always look so amazing.”

You know he is wanting something as you look down into his eyes smirking, “What are you wanting?” Your tone is playful as you eye him.

A small smirk appears across his lips, “Nothing crazy…”

“Tell me.”

He climbed on to the bed slightly as you placed your bong on the bedside table. His lips kissing your thighs, “I just want to put my cock in you. I need to feel your warmth after the day I had.”

“You want to fuck?”

He gives you a look, “We make love Schatz, such vulgar vocabulary.” König laughs while he continues to kiss your legs. “I just want to relax, just sit with you on me while I read and you can keep smoking...” He wanted you to keep smoking. It was his favorite thing. When you would cock warm and smoke, your already tight pussy would clench around his cock each time you coughed and give him a small burst of pleasure.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Königs eyes light up as he stands up off the bed and begins to undo his belt before undoing his pants. You can already see his boner through the fabric of his olive-green cargo pants. He has been thinking about coming home and doing this all day. König has his gaze locked on your panties as you reach for them and pull them off.

Stepping out of his pants and boxers, he kicks them to the side. His hand instinctively goes to his cock and lightly strokes it, pulling his foreskin back and exposing his pink tip. König opens the night stand and grabs his book before getting into bed.

“Take the shirt off too Liebling.” König says as he moves pillows around so he can sit comfortably against the headboard.

Your hands grab the hem of the shirt before pulling it over your head and exposing your breast to him. His eyes instantly glued to them as he gives you a smirk and nod of approval.

“Komm her, Prinzessin,” he slaps his thick muscular thigh as his eyes glaze over your body. His cock began to twitch with anticipation.

Your eyes go to his thighs to his cock as you crawl over to him, lowering your head to kiss his cock. His eyes watching you intensely as your lips kiss the tip, watching as you open your mouth to suck his cock. Königs hand comes down to stop you, his hand on your chin.

“Not yet,” he chuckles, enjoying your enthusiasm.

You smirk as you continue to crawl to him. His hand moves to your waist as he helps guide you to him. He turns you around so that your back is facing his chest. You reach down to grab his dick and help guide it in. A soft groan leaves his mouth as he feels your warm hand grabbing at him. Every time you touch him it feels like the first time he has ever been touched.

Slowly, the tip of his dick enters your pussy. Both of you letting out a soft moan at the same time. His fingers slightly digging into your hips slightly harder as his body reacts to yours. Relaxing more, you lower yourself more on his lap.

König closes his eyes and drops his head back against the headboard as he feels the tightness of your cunt begin to squeeze him. His hands push you down until his balls hit your clit and he can hear you let out a sudden moan.

Instinctively, you want to grind back and forth. You move your hips forward slightly when Königs grip tightens, “Nien, sit still Schatz.”

König leans over to grab your bong back for you, any slight movement making you whimper softly. It brings a smile to his face.

“Here, just relax, okay Liebling?”

You grab your bong from him and agree. He grabs his book and begins to read. You lean back softly on his broad chest and continue to watch your TV show.

König takes a few deep inhales, getting a mix of weed and your natural scent. Leaning in and kissing the side of your neck once before leaning back again and opening his book to where he left off.

You light the bowl and begin to inhale a big hit. Too big.

Trying to maintain composure, you slowly begin to exhale. This doesn’t work as you begin to cough hard. Behind you, König is biting his lips together so he doesn’t let out a loud moan. His eyes slightly fluttering as every cough your sweet cunt bares down around his cock that already has no room. A slight bouncing movement your body makes too drives him wild. Once you stop coughing, he speaks up.

“You okay Maus?” His voice slightly hoarse when he asks it, his free hand lightly rubbing your back.

Giggling, you nod and let out another cough. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” his free hand leaves your back and snakes around your waist to hold you back against him. Slowly he moves his hand up to your breast where he begins to lightly tug at your hardened nipple. Gently caressing the area in a slow circle motion before pulling his hand away to turn the page.

Time passes as the episode you’re watching ends. You light your bong again to take a hit. König notices and gets excited, hoping it’s too much and you cough again.

You take a deep inhale and feel that burning sensation as you let the smoke out and begin to cough hard.

König moves his free hand to caress your thigh, feeling the warm and soft flesh. Your pussy clamping down tightly around his cock sent small shock waves of pleasure down his spine. All of the sudden, a new sensation happened. A warm strickle flows over the sensitive tight skin of his balls, exciting him even more.

Your face turns red as you realize with all the hard coughing, you’ve accidentally peed a little. You lean over and place your bong down on the bedside table as you prepare to get off of him.

“I’m sorry” you laugh half from embarrassment and half because you’re high and can see the humor in the situation.

König snakes his arm around your waist while letting out a soft chuckle, “Where do you think you’re going? Hm?” He kisses your neck softly as he pulls you to him.

“To clean up-”

“I’m not done yet.” He cuts you off with a soft tone as he continues to kiss your neck. “Don’t worry about that, it’s natural. I’ll clean up later.” He reassures you as he picks up his book again.

You relax back against his chest again, feeling very high now. The show you’re watching is entertaining you anymore. All you can feel is full. His fully erect cock stuffed deep in your pussy, twitching occasionally making you want friction. Your hands find themselves busy as one goes to one of your breasts and begins to play with your nipple and the other begins to make light circles over your clit. The sound of your wet pussy beginning to catch König’s attention.

“What are you doing Liebling?” He leans forward to catch a glimpse.

“I need more,” your voice sounding pathetic.

“More? You don’t like just relaxing with me?” He teases you as his hand goes around and pushes yours away from your clit. He pinches the little bud in between two fingers and gently begins to roll it back and forth. “Suck your juices off Maus,” he demands, “You’re so wet.”

You bring the tips of your fingers to your lips as you begin to lick them before softly sucking on your fingertips. A look of pleasure washes across your face as you start to rock your hips back and forth. König doesn’t stop you. Instead, he takes a deep breath and enjoys it.

You lean forward and grab his muscular thighs as you begin to slowly bounce. König removes his hand from your clit and leaning back to watch your ass bounce with every movement. He reaches his hand out as caresses the curve of your body.

“God you’re beautiful,” he moans.

König bends his knees slightly as he leans you back towards him. His hands moving down your legs, grasping your thighs and holding them up as your back lays flat against his chest. He begins to buck his hips upwards, rapidly.

The wet sound of your pussy and your pathetic whimpers are all he can focus on. His eyes close tightly as he rests his head back against the headboard.

“Fuck!” You moan out loudly as he begins to fuck you as you’ve been desperately wanting. “I’m so close.”

“Ja, cum on my cock.” König moans breathlessly. He keeps the same motion until he can feel you begin to clench around him and your legs begin to tremble. A white ring forms around the base of his cock as he feels you get wetter. He can’t hold on anymore.

“Oh Liebling,” König whimpers as he begins to slow his pace as his cock throbs inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

He slowly let’s go of the tight grip he has on your thighs as he lowers your legs. He kisses your head and neck softly as you both begin to relax. His big arms wrapping around your waist tightly to hold you in place, keeping his cock in you using it like a plug to keep all of his cum in.

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty

978 notes · View notes

fyodior · 5 months ago

Text

FUCK YOU, FUCK ME!

pairing: toji fushiguro x gn!reader (no anatomy described)

cw: pegging toji !!!! reader uses a strap, toji is hesitant but goes along with it and ends up LOVING it. anal (m!receiving), missionary and doggy, minor orgasm control, etc. kind of glorified anal so keep that in mind. MINORS DONT INTERACT ILL BITE

notes: this is a sponsored fic for @ficsforgaza, and im so so excited to finally be posting it!! (other wips available for sponsor here) go check out some other great creators on the blog too!! and this is my first time back writing in a bit so pls be kind :") divider by @/cafekitsune!

wc: 2.8k

“Toji, sweetheart, you need to relax.”

“Fuck- I’m fuckin’ trying,” your lover grunts, wincing and sucking in a sharp breath. “I’m not fuckin’ used to things inside’a me like you are.” You choose to ignore that last quip.

Only half a very well lubed finger deep into his tight ass, you figure this is going to be a long night, but you know it’ll be so, so, worth it - for both you and him.

The day you first proposed trying anal to Toji, he was all for it - excited even. Until he found out that you meant he’d be the one receiving, and his face immediately fell.

“No. Nope. Nothin’s goin’ up my shitter,” he had responded, making you roll your eyes and groan. You swore up and down that a prostate orgasm could be life changing for males, but he flat out refused for months. It wasn’t until your birthday when you promised him he didn’t have to buy you a gift if he agreed to try anal just once - and then he was all for it.

He was hesitant as the two of you scrolled through sex toy websites to search for the best possible strap and dildo for him. Pointing out ones you thought he might like only made his face contort in discomfort, haunted by the thought of something going inside his asshole. The list of “hard no’s” grew and grew the longer you searched: nothing longer than 6 inches, nothing girthier than a circumference of 5 inches, no skin colors because that felt too real, and no balls. Toji Fushiguro was a hard man to please.

Finally, finally, after months of convincing, hours of online shopping, and a few more days following the arrival of the package, did you have your lover laid out in front of you, legs spread and hole awaiting. It was the sweetest fucking sight in the world, and you were so grateful you maintained enough patience to get to this moment. Good things really do come to those who wait.

The harness was already strapped around your waist, painfully eager to attach the dildo and get to it, but of course there was ample prep required, especially for someone completely new to anal. Per your request, he had showered prior to you getting home from work and had tried to clean himself out a little bit, which you were very grateful for. Now you were tasked with stretching and prepping his hole. Your mouth watered at the thought of it.

Instructing him to lay on his back, for no other reason than you wanted to see his face, you press his thick, sinewy thighs apart and settle between them. You had done your best to create a gentle, relaxing environment in your shared bedroom, with the lights dimmed low, a few candles flickering on the shelf, and soft music playing from the TV. Yet still, the man was as tense as a clenched fist.

The goal was to get him a little worked up and wanting it, so you start with a little foreplay. Kissing him softly, you jerk him off slowly, getting him hard enough that he wants to cum. His hard cock lays neglected on his belly as he rests on his back, propped up against a horde of pillows, and you could honestly cum just at the sight of him. Toji is fucking beautiful.

But now it was finally time. After dousing your fingers in a thick, goopy layer of lube, you press the tip of your ring finger against his puckered hole, and he immediately flinches.

“Baby, I promise I won’t make this hurt, you have to breathe, though,” you plead, using your other hand to massage his thigh. “Here - take a deep breath with me.”

Motioning for him to follow, you suck in air, watching him closely. After rolling his eyes and deciding he’ll finally play along, he mimics you. The second he releases the breath he was holding, his body deflating, you take the chance and slip in your finger down to just the first knuckle.

He immediately gasps, furrowing his brows and grunting. “Hey! You fuckin’ tricked me!” he accuses, indignant as a little kid.

You chuckle in response. “It got it in, didn’t it?”

You stay like that for a bit, wriggling the tip of your finger purely just to start getting him used to the feeling of something inside him, watching his expressions closely.

“Does it feel good at all, babe?”

It takes Toji a moment to respond, clearly chewing on the idea in his brain. “It… it’s weird,” he finally says, pursing his lips. “It just feels strange - not… bad, though. Yet.”

“Good,” you nod. “Good. Just hang in there, and you’ll feel good soon, okay? Promise.”

He just grumbles before gripping his cock, fisting it a few times before you smack his hand away.

“Hey!” he gasps, jaw wide open. “It’s my dick!”

“No. I said no touching yourself yet,” you bite back. When he looks like he’s about to pitch a fit, you decide to throw in a “please, baby? For me?” and he backs down. Toji is nothing if not a sucker for you.

After warning him, you push your finger in to the second knuckle. He sucks in a sharp breath, but makes no protest - a good sign. Soon, you have your whole finger inside him, and he’s panting a bit.

“See, baby? I knew you could take it,” you smile softly.

“Whatever,” Toji grumbles, avoiding your gaze. He can deny it all he wants, but he can’t hide the fact that his dick twitched every time you pushed your finger in a little further. “Let’s hurry this up and get it over with.”

Your eyes go wide at that, but you nod. “Your wish is my command, sir,” you smirk.

And just like that, your whole pointer finger has bullied its way inside him.

“Fuck!” Toji coughs, lurching forward. “You can’t do that!”

“Oh, but I can,” you grin impishly. “Just lay back and let me work you open, okay?”

Now that you have two fingers inside him, you can actually make some headway. Squirting some more lube around his entrance, you start to very slowly fuck him with your fingers, pumping them in and out at a snail’s pace. Toji stays silent, still refusing to meet your gaze, but his cheeks are cherry red and he’s gripping the sheets with a tight fist.

The quiet music coming from the TV hums softly in the background, and you hope it’s relaxing him at least a little as you slowly spread your fingers apart, trying to scissor them open to loosen the muscles and stretch him out. Toji’s breath hitches when you spread them even past when his hole starts to resist, and you smirk. You guess he likes the feeling of being full just as much as you do.

Time passes painfully slowly while you work him open with your fingers, aching to finally get inside him. To finally fuck Toji in the way he deserves. Finally, you feel like he’s prepped enough to adequately take the strap. It might hurt a tiny bit, but what’s the harm in that?

“Okay, sweetheart,” you start as you fit the jet black dildo into the O-ring connected to the strap. “You okay on your back like this, or do you wanna take it from the back?”

His face burns bright red at the thought of you fucking him in doggy, so he just shakes his head. “ ‘m fine like this,” he mumbles, and you nod.

Once again settling between his thighs, you wrap a hand around his cock and pump it lazily, offering him a small smile.

“You look so pretty laid out like this for me, legs spread and ass spread so wide, ready to take my cock,” you muse, mind in overdrive.

“S-st-stop,” Toji squeaks out, biting his fist. He won’t admit it, he can’t admit it, he’ll die before admitting how much that turns him on. He can’t admit how his ass has started to ache for something to fill it back up again, even though you’re more than willing to oblige.

“Can’t, baby boy,” you frown, leaning in for a kiss. “Not when I finally have you like this.”

The brief kisses seem to relax the tense man just a bit, melting against your lips and kissing back hungrily. You could’ve sworn you caught a just fuck me already under his breath, but he’ll refuse it until his deathbed.

When you make eye contact with him and he nods, you press the well-lubed tip of the strap against his hole, watching with stars in your eyes as it resists, but still tries to spread open. A cough can be heard from near the headboard, but no protests so far. Soft whines fight to escape Toji’s throat as you push in each centimeter of the silicone cock, face burning hot and red. About halfway in, you pause, giving the man a moment to breathe and acclimatize to the intrusion inside him. He’s grateful for it too, huffing and groaning and squirming as he tries to find a more comfortable position, but there is none. Not when there’s something hard shoved up his ass. You just stay as patient as a saint, massaging his muscly thighs and running your hands up his torso, trying your best not to lean too far forward and inch any more of the cock inside him. As a treat, you give his throbbing, aching cock a few tugs with your spit coated palm, and he lets out a sigh.

One more moment of eye contact, and more nod, and you push your hips a little farther forward. Suddenly, Toji lurches forward again.

“Gah!!” he cries out, eyes wide and heaving. “What- what was that? What did you do?” The accusatory questions only make you laugh, leaning in to kiss him sweetly.

“Must be your sweet spot - your prostate,” you chuckle. “Here - let’s try again.”

Pulling out a few inches and thrusting in again has Toji sputtering and groaning all over again. You can’t help but break out into a wild smirk. This is exactly what you wanted. Not only for yourself, as a perfect view to marvel at and take in, but for him - Toji deserves this, deserves to feel good.

Leaning forward, hands braced on either side of his chest, you muster up all your strength and thrust hard. This time his head is falling back against the pillow as he cries out with a call of your name, too.

“It’s all the way inside, sweetheart,” you smile, marveling at how the silicone balls are pressed firm against his ass. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he nods, gulping. “Just- let’s just do this- please,” Toji chokes out.

This version of Toji, one so vulnerable and desperate, is one you’ve never seen before. Not even when he’s fucking you - he’ll get desperate to get his dick wet, sure, but this is… different. Sweeter. His dark, unruly hair is matted to his forehead with sweat, and his chest is heaving in anticipation. You simply have no choice than to give him exactly what he wants.

Inching your strap out to where the tip is almost dangling out of his hole, you thrust all the way back in, relishing in the way he once again moans. His reaction is so much sweeter than you could’ve imagined, and you simply can’t help the way you go fucking crazy. Your thrusts pick up speed, anchoring yourself by gripping the sheets hard as you erratically fuck your lover’s ass. The both of you are complete messes, groaning and whining and gasping almost theatrically, chasing a beautiful high.

“Harder,” Toji grunts, pulling you in by your cheeks for a messy kiss as his thick legs circle your waist. “Fuck! Fe-feels so fucking good, fuck, fuck fuck…” he blabbers, your face still in his tight grip. You couldn’t give less of a shit, just want to see him falling apart even more, so you give him exactly what he asks for.

Wet sounds of lube and skin on skin echo throughout the bedroom, mixed with the tunes of both your moaning and groaning. An ache is blossoming in your thigh muscles and you can feel yourself losing stamina but you refuse to give in just yet, using every ounce of your strength to piston your hips in and out of him. Toji can’t help but clench tight around your cock, you can feel it by the increased resistance, and you truly think you must have died and gone to heaven.

“Toji, sweetheart,” you call, trying to grab the man’s attention. “Get on your hands and knees for me, okay?”

For the first time likely ever, the man does as he’s asked with no protest. He hisses a bit as you slip all the way out of his tight heat, but scrambles to flip over and present his ass for you. There’s no way this is your Toji, not when he’s acting like this - but you decide you’ll allow yourself to indulge in this doppelganger, just for tonight.

Some adjustments to his stance are required, as he is taller than you, but you soon find a comfortable position so that your hips can be flush against his ass. His throbbing cock and balls hang heavy at this angle, dangling between his thighs, but he doesn’t seem to mind. At this angle, you have a much better view of his beautiful ass, using two hands to spread his cheeks apart and stare with a slack jaw at his abused hole, puffy and throbbing. It’s mind boggling that you were inside him. And will be again. With one languid thrust, you’re bottoming out again and pressing his face into the pillow, making him cry out.

This angle, while depriving you of your lover’s beautiful face, is much easier for your task. Having his ass presented for you like this makes fucking him a breeze - so you take, and take, and take, and take. Pump in and out of his tight, wet hole, both of your bodies trembling as you’re overcome with so much emotion and overstimulation. You feel like a bitch in heat with the way you’re rutting into him, bottoming out with almost every thrust.

“Fuck,” Toji spits. “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Your eyes go wide at the realization. He’s going to cum? Just from getting fucked? Holy shit.

“Yeah, baby? Wanna cum? Feels so good getting fucked, huh?” you tease, continuing to fuck him hard and deep. “Want me to help you out, or so how long it takes for you to cum just from getting your ass fucked? Hm?” Your own words are lost on you, seemingly coming from a place of pure lust and not from your rational mind.

“Please help,” Toji chokes out. And he’s been so good, not touching his cock this entire time, taking your cock so well, that you decide to do as he asks.

Your pace slows down some as you wrap a hand around his aching, angry red cock, thumbing at the tip and using his tacky precum to lube up your hand some. It only takes one, two, three strokes before he’s gasping and spurting thick, hot ropes of cum onto the bed, whole body tensing as he cries out louder than you’ve ever heard before. He collapses onto the bed, and you take the message, pulling your strap out from his abused hole. No words come from his mouth, only heaves and gasps for air as he tries to come to terms with what just occurred. You don’t nag him at all, just flop down next to him and push his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes.

“Did that feel good, baby? Hm?” you ask, smiling softly at him. That’s truly all you ever wanted. You truly couldn’t give much of a shit about your own desires and lust - all you ever, ever wanted in this world was for your lover to feel good.

Toji gulps. “....Yeah. Felt real good.” It’s obvious he’s exhausted, only moments from passing out. You can’t blame him.

“Did so, so good for me, sweetheart,” you coo, leaning in to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Now get some rest. It’s hard getting fucked, isn’t it?” That makes him chuckle weakly.

“Fuck you,” he rasps, but he has a lopsided smile on his face. “Love you. Really. Thank you.”

Your heart soars and you smile widely. “Of course, sweetheart. Always. I love you. Now please get some rest so we can go for a second round.”

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji imagine #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #toji x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

527 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 8 months ago

Text

You Weren't Supposed to Know That

Part 2 of You Weren't Supposed to Hear That

Requested Here!

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x fem!shy!wife!reader ; platonic Luca x reader

Summary: Deacon is stressed with work and you are shyer than ever, so you don't tell him how sick your pregnancy is making you. When you collapse while home alone, you call Luca and he and Deacon rush to your aid.

Warnings: angst, fluff, nausea/vomiting (no details), protective Luca and Deacon

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“I missed you,” Deacon sighs.

“Me or my bump?” you ask quietly.

When Deacon’s hands reach for your stomach, you get your answer. As you’ve started showing, Deacon has taken to showering your bump with endless love. The days are getting longer, though, because 20-David has been busy recently. Today, you’re happy to see him because it’s been two days since he left, but his immediate and unwavering attention makes you shy away from him.

“What did I miss? I think you’re getting bigger. What do you think?” Deacon asks your stomach.

You glance at him, where he’s squatting before you. You’re surprised when you see Deacon’s eyes are on your face now. He blinks up at you and his smile grows.

“What do you think? Getting bigger in my absence?” he repeats.

Lifting your shoulders toward your ears, you drop your chin and tear your eyes from Deacon. Being home alone was okay when you were just Deacon’s shy wife, but now that you’re pregnant, you wish he was home more.

“Are you okay?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Deacon answers. He stands and takes your hands to lead you to the couch. “I’m so sorry about the last few weeks. The calls have been long, and there’s just been so many of them.” He rubs his jaw before running a finger under your bottom lip. “But I’m sorrier that you’ve been home alone so much. If you want me to-“

“I don’t,” you interrupt. “Your job is important, Deac, and I know that you’re here when I need you. So, don’t do anything that you don’t want to do.”

Deacon smiles, and you lean forward to hide your face against his shoulder. His hands move to your back as he rubs along your spine. As you shiver in his hold, you take a deep breath to calm your stomach. The nausea worsens as your first trimester progresses. What started as morning sickness is now unpredictable and long-lasting. You hope it will pass soon, but Deacon is stressed enough with work that you don’t want to add it to his plate.

“We’re on standby tomorrow to help with a U.S. Marshal operation,” Deacon says. “So, I should be at the station most of the day.”

“How is everyone?” you ask as you sit up.

“We’re good. Hondo’s family drama seems to be calming down. Luca misses you, though, and wants us to let him know the moment he can begin his uncle duties.”

“I think-“

Your sentence is cut short by Deacon’s hand moving underneath your shirt. He smiles because he knows that you’re shy, and getting shyer with every ounce of attention he gives to your baby bump. It’s his baby bump, too, he thinks, so he can love it as much as he wants. Deacon sighs deeply, and you can see the stress he’s carrying in his shoulders.

“You should go to bed, get some rest while you can,” you say.

“Only if you’ll come with me,” Deacon counters.

“Will you sleep, or will you keep touching my stomach instead?”

“Hey, that’s our baby in there.”

You shake your head but allow Deacon to lead you into the bedroom. Despite your shyness, the long days away from Deacon are hard, and you think you have the perfect solution.

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, you feel Deacon kiss your forehead before he leaves, but are too tired to get up and see him off. An hour later, you jump from the bed and rush to the bathroom as your stomach cruelly reminds you that you are pregnant. After far too long in the bathroom, you clean up and get ready for the day. Your plan is still on track, though, and you make your way into the kitchen.

There’s a list of recipes on your phone, and you begin baking every one of them. Each member of 20 Squad is getting their favorite baked good today, and you get a great excuse to visit Deacon and your friends.

When you walk into the station with numerous containers in your hands, you smile to yourself. Luca sees you first and yells your name.

“Look at that baby bump!” he adds.

You scrunch your nose and look away from him, but his smile lets you know that he means well.

“Oh, that’s adorable,” Hondo says as he approaches. “And what is all of this?”

“For you,” you murmur.

Luca and Hondo take the containers from your arms and spread them on a nearby table. When Deacon and Hicks turn the corner, Hondo beckons them over.

“Are you okay?” Deacon asks you.

His brows are furrowed, and you suddenly worry that you look as bad as you feel. Since you got sick this morning, you’ve felt tired and generally down. The nausea has worn off, but it rears its head when you least expect it. Your next doctor’s appointment is a few weeks away, so if it lasts until then, you’ll mention it.

“’M okay,” you tell Deacon as you hug him. “I wanted to see everyone, and I figured you’d appreciate some goodies while you wait here.”

Luca looks over as he eats one of his favorite treats. “You feeling alright?” he asks.

You nod, and Deacon rubs a hand across your lower back.

“I’m a little tired,” you admit. “But nothing I can’t handle.”

Both Luca and Deacon nod, seeming to accept your answer. As they get distracted by Hondo and Street’s barter of your treats, and join the taste-testing circle, you blink rapidly to clear your head. The dizzy spell is over as soon as it begins, and you shake your head to regain your bearings.

“Deac,” you call. “I’m gonna head home. Be careful.”

“Text me when you get home,” he requests. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Deacon kisses your forehead and runs a gentle hand under your small bump. You accept a cookie from him but don’t eat it. Eating has been unreliable recently, as you struggle to keep certain foods down. If Deacon knew that you were getting sick after nearly every meal, he’d become a helicopter husband, and while you love him, you remember the tension in his shoulders and decide not to tell him anything.

Once you leave, Luca tilts his head and asks Deacon to step to the side.

“Is she really okay?” Luca asks.

“You noticed it, too?” Deacon replies. “She didn’t look like that last night.”

“She said she was tired, so maybe she just needs more rest.”

Deacon nods and hopes that Luca is right. “She’s going home, so hopefully she’ll feel better later.”

“Has she mentioned anything? Nausea, morning sickness, anything like that?”

“She had some morning sickness the sixth week, I think, but I haven’t been around much. I don’t see why she wouldn’t have told me that, though.”

Luca raises his brows, and Deacon chuckles.

“She wouldn’t have said it loudly, but I think she’d tell me if she was sick.”

“Me too. Let me know if you need anything, though. World’s best uncle is on standby.”

Deacon unlocks his phone and waits for his text that you made it home safely. The moment it comes through, he releases a relieved sigh and replies that he loves you.

✯✯✯✯✯

The days following your visit to S.W.A.T. HQ are agony. You can’t keep anything down, you get dizzy after every trip to the bathroom, and you’re tired but can’t sleep. Deacon is working even more overtime and is only home for about six hours each night while you’re asleep. As you try different home remedies and look for foods that don’t make you sick, you grow desperate to see Deacon.

When your phone rings and Deacon’s smiling face illuminates your screen, you rush to answer.

“I am so sorry,” he begins. “But I left my wallet beside the bed, and I don’t have time to come get it.”

“I’ll bring it right over,” you answer.

“There’s a paper under it for Hicks, and I need that too. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.”

As you stand, you sigh shakily and pray for your stomach to stay calm. Deacon thanks you again before ending the call, and you wonder if he’ll even be there when you arrive. S.W.A.T. calls have been urgent and spontaneous the last few weeks, so you never know when Deacon is or isn’t at the station.

There’s a whole batch of cookies on the counter that you’ve been unable to eat, so you pick it up on your way out. The drive to HQ is slow and silent, and you are glad for the chance to see Deacon, if he is there.

“Hey!” Luca greets you as you exit your car. “Let me help.”

He takes the cookies, and you thank him softly before walking inside with him. Deacon left about an hour ago, Luca says, but he’d be happy to keep you company. While you stand with him in the headquarters’ kitchen, you suddenly grow dizzy. Most of the dizzy spells pass in less than a minute, but this is the worst you’ve had yet. You tip backward and Luca rushes to extend his arms. He says your name as you slump against him, and he starts to call for help when you move your hands to hold his arms.

“I’m okay,” you promise. “Thank you.”

“You are not okay!” he argues.

“I, uh, I should probably go home.”

“No. You are going to come over here and sit down. I’m not letting you drive after that.”

Luca takes you to a couch and forces you to sit. He disappears for a moment and returns with a bottle of water. As he stands over you and watches you drink, Hicks exits his office.

“Hicks!” Luca calls.

“Please don’t tell Deacon,” you beg. “He’s already stressed, and this was a one-time thing.”

Luca crosses his arms over his chest and fixes a protective glare on you. “Not happening.”

“Luca, I swear this hasn’t happened before,” not this bad.

“Hey,” Hicks greets. His brows furrow when he sees you and Luca. “What’s wrong?”

Luca looks away quickly, and when his eyes return to you, he realizes that you are still pale, and your hands have a slight shake to them.

“She almost passed out a few minutes ago,” Luca answers.

Traitor, you think. “It was a one-time thing,” you interject. “I got dizzy, but I’m fine now.”

“I’ll call Deacon,” Hicks says. “I sent him out to assist Rocker’s team, but we can send someone else to take his place.”

“No,” you say. Your voice shakes, and it’s not as strong as you wish it was. “Please don’t tell him. He’ll just get more stressed and I can’t do that to him.”

Hicks and Luca look at one another, and you can see the moment they decide to listen to you and respect your wishes. But you know there will be a condition.

“If it happens again,” Luca begins. “You tell him, or we will.”

“It’s not safe to deal with stuff like this alone,” Hicks adds. “We’re all here for you, but Deacon needs to know.”

You nod and promise to tell Deacon if it happens again but add that it won’t. Luca drives you home and reminds you sternly that he will tell Deacon if necessary.

“Call for anything,” Luca adds before he leaves.

✯✯✯✯✯

Two days later, you’re eating dinner alone when the now-familiar churning of your stomach begins. You rush into the bathroom and cry as you get sick, overwhelmed by the never-ending cycle and the pain you’re enduring. After you empty your stomach, you try to stand but feel like you’re about to collapse. As you lower back to the tile floor, you fall backward during a sudden bout of weaknesses. Luckily, you had the foresight to bring your phone into the bathroom with you.

More tears fall from your eyes and your stomach feels like it flips while you dial Deacon’s number. You don’t know that his phone is in his locker, and he is talking to Lieutenant Lynch, so your tears increase with each unanswered ring. Any attempt to slow your tears only makes your stomach feel worse.

When Deacon’s voicemail greets you, you hang up and scroll through your contacts. The second call you make goes much better.

“Hey,” Luca answers quickly. He hears your ragged breathing and rushes to ask, “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I need help, Luca,” you answer. “I’m still at home, but Deacon’s not answering his phone.”

“I’ll get him.” Luca’s footsteps sound in your ear before he speaks again. “Are you safe?”

“Yes. Just really sick.”

“You said that was a one-time thing!”

“Falling was,” you whisper.

“Deac!” Luca yells. “We gotta go!”

Your phone beeps, and you pull it away from your ear. The low battery warning only proceeds the shutoff by five seconds. Unwilling to stand and move through the house alone, you lean against the cool tile behind you and close your eyes. Luca and Deacon will be here soon, and you know they do everything they can and more to help you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hello?” Luca asks into the microphone. “Hey!”

He pulls the phone away and sees that the call has ended. Deacon is walking toward him with his hands raised in question.

“We need to get to your house,” Luca announces. “Your wife just called and said she needs help. She’s really sick.”

Deacon’s world slows as he follows Luca to his truck. He has dozens of questions but knows that Luca doesn’t know any more than he’s already said. As Luca pulls out of the small S.W.A.T. lot, Deacon calls dispatch and gives them the description of Luca’s truck and a brief, slightly exaggerated explanation that they are on duty, so they don’t need to get pulled over for speeding.

“Move!” Luca yells as he taps the horn.

“Take your next right, we can cut through this neighborhood,” Deacon says.

Luca isn’t surprised by Deacon’s continued calmness, but he knows that it’s a cover. Deacon is just as worried and terrified as Luca. The moment Luca is in your driveway, Deacon is out of the truck and running inside. Deacon yells your name before following your voice when you reply.

When Deacon appears in the bathroom doorway, you smile and raise your arms toward him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you say against his shoulder.

Deacon wraps his arms tightly around you, clinging to you. You tell him everything, you voice quick but soft, and he moves a hand to your bump as you recount how many times you’ve gotten sick while home alone.

“And I didn’t want to tell you because you’ve been so stressed with work,” you finish.

“I want to know everything, okay?” Deacon says.

He helps you stand and leads you into the living room. Luca exits the kitchen and brings you a glass of water, some crackers, and a jar of vitamins you’ve never seen before.

“I did my research after that near-collapse,” Luca says in answer to your questioning look.

“Near-collapse?” Deacon asks, looking between you and Luca.

“I got dizzy and almost fell the day I brought your wallet,” you say softly. “Luca caught me, and I begged him not to tell you.”

“Sorry, man,” Luca tells Deacon.

“Look at me,” Deacon requests. He cups your chin to keep your eyes on him as he says, “Don’t keep stuff from me because you think I’m too stressed. I can handle it, sweetheart. I want to handle it.”

“I do too,” Luca interjects. “World’s best uncle means protective, and I’ll start showing it.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again.

You drop your eyes, and Deacon pulls you into his arms.

“Anything else you’ve been hiding?” he asks.

“Not my bump,” you mumble against his shoulder as you hold him tightly.

“I love you,” Deacon reminds you. “Remember that, not what I’m dealing with at work.”

“I’ll try. Luca, whatever those vitamins are, they’re working already.”

“I’m that good,” Luca replies with a smug smile.

“You can go now,” Deacon says over your shoulder.

“After everything I’ve down for you,” Luca gasps.

“Thank you, both of you,” you whisper. “I’m glad that I’m not doing this alone. Even if you weren’t supposed to know any of this.”

“You wouldn’t have told me that you were pregnant without my questioning,” Deacon argues. “So, forget what I’m supposed to know and just tell me everything.”

“Tell us everything,” Luca amends.

Deacon rolls his eyes but moves his hands to hold each side of your bump as he moves his head to whisper in your ear, “You’re definitely getting bigger.”

#hanna writes✯#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #deacon kay fluff #requests #fem!reader #swat x reader #swat cbs

431 notes · View notes

look-at-the-soul · 9 months ago

Text

Every little thing you do- Part 1

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

✨So first part is finally here!! Please be aware this part is set to happen in different days therefore you’ll see a little divider in the middle… and also! There’s violence. Please note I’m trying to follow the ideas/education from back in the day so it won’t necessary fit for today’s way of seeing things.

Word count: 2,977

Waving her sister goodbye, Y/N headed outside. But to her surprise she found Scott stopping his vehicle.

“Hello sweetheart.” He greeted her with a quick kiss on her lips, she stepped back immediately in case her mother was watching behind the curtains.

“Scott, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“We’ll I lied and said I felt sick to get out earlier.”

This wasn’t something he’d do, but she listened to his explanation.

“I wanted to see you.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder, her parents were strict.

“You know you’re only invited for lunch and tea on Sundays.”

“I know, I know.” He moved back retrieving something from the car. “Got you these.”

“I love them, thank you.” Y/N pressed the bouquet of flowers against her chest, the fresh aroma invading her, a smile growing in her lips.

“Why don’t you go back inside and put them in water? Then meet me at the bakery around the corner.”

“Where are we going?”

Scott gave her a wide smile that took her breath away. “It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.”

Butterflies got spread all over her stomach, the expectation building. She hurried to the unexpected date.

“Listen, I want to apologize for acting shitty the other day.” Scott announced. “Can you forgive me love?”

Y/N nodded eagerly, pleased by his change of heart.

“It’s alright, just be careful next time.” Y/N suggested as he drove.

“Careful?”

“You shouldn’t have talked Tommy that way.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “There you go again, defending him. This why we fight.”

“No, Scott I don’t want a war between you two all the time, he didn’t like the way you talked to me.”

“Why does he always sticks his bloody nose in our business?”

“It’s not like that.”

“He’s always standing in the middle, I’m sick of getting orders from him, he leaves me the worst jobs just to please himself, he’s got people to do those things. I thought they wanted me to do other things, not to clean horses shit.”

“Scott I can’t interfere in your role among the gang, he already has done more than enough.”

“There it is, you’re defending him instead of being on my side…”

Y/N realized how unintentionally she always put Tommy on a pedestal, her boyfriend was right, feeling like he was belittled. She knew Tommy didn’t like him, and there was a possibility that she wasn’t impartial.

“I’ll see what I can do.” She finally gave in, not wanting to spend their time together fighting.

“That’s my girl.” He stopped the car on the sideway and began to shower her face with soft kisses.

”Do you need anything else?” Lizzie walked around the desk, resting against the bookshelf.

“What happened with the contracts you couldn’t find?” Tommy asked leaning back on his chair.

“Arthur took them by mistake.”

“Keep those locked.” He pointed a finger at her.

“Are you going to Karl’s birthday party?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, but Tommy wasn’t looking at her.

“Yes, in a minute.”

Lizzie looked down at him again, hoping he’d ask her to join him.

“Heard Ada bought a huge cake.”

Tommy took his briefcase and hummed nonchalantly.

“I wrapped you a present for Karl, take it before you leave.”

She didn’t get a response.

Giving up to her wishes to be invited with the Shelby family, Lizzie shook her head. Collecting the remains of her dignity from the floor.

Tommy followed her with his eyes as she stomped her foot on her way out but dismissed it a few seconds later, not understanding her attitude.

The office was quiet when he crossed it, everyone had headed home already and his family were already in Polly’s house.

This was the first time he left considerably early in a long time. The need to release some stress made him reach for a cigarette. He had a dozen of things to do, a trip to London in the upcoming days, visit one of the fabrics… before he realized, Tommy parked outside Polly’s property.

Karl’s celebration was a rare family gathering. For his brothers birthdays they’d usually went to camp close to the river and drink all night. He wasn’t used to paper decorations and chocolate cake.

A small figure crashed against his legs. “Oh oh.”

Looking down, he found one of John’s kids. Was this Kate? Or Barbara?

“Careful.”

“There you are.” John appeared with a sandwich in his hand. “Go with your siblings.” He instructed his daughter.

“John.” Tommy called him mysteriously, with his hand motioning his brother to step closer. “Wipe your fucking mouth, you’ve got chocolate all over it.”

Stepping into the living room, he joined his family.

“Uncle Tommy!” Karl ran towards him with his arms open.

Tommy rubbed the kid’s back and offered him his present. “Happy birthday Karl.”

“Thank you!”

“Looks like you owe me money Pol.” Ada chuckled as she helped her son open his present.

Tommy looked from his sister to his aunt, studying them.

“Damn it. I thought he wasn’t going to show up.”

“So you made a bet?” He asked in disbelief.

He usually wouldn’t. But when it came to his sister, he made an effort.

“Where’s Y/N?” Polly asked with a frown.

“I sent her the invitation, thought you’d arrive together.” Ada explained staring at her brother.

But Tommy shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen or heard from her.”

“Shit! Pol! Help me out here!” John shouted holding his son James in his arms, he was bleeding and crying. “Smashed his fucking head.”

As Ada rushed to get some clean towels, Polly tried to comfort the child.

Stepping away from the chaos, Tommy leaned against a column to think he actually hadn’t seen Y/N in almost a week. A million thoughts filling his mind, trying to find a reason for her to be distant.

He needed to know if she was alright because she had always been close to the family, she was always considered part of it to all their gatherings; she was there for them at Freddy’s funeral, at John’s wedding…

“Now that we’re here all together, I’ve something to say.” Arthur announced stepping on a chair, oblivious that Esme and Polly were taking care of a bleeding child.

As the room went quiet, Arthur announced he and Linda were expecting a baby.

“Congratulations.” Esme managed to blurr through gritted teeth. “Now help me hold James, because I need to rearrange his arm.”

As Arthur walked past Tommy, his brother patted his arm and mumbled a low congratulations.

But the thought of Y/N not being with them, stuck in his head.

Y/N felt like sleeping on the couch. Her feet were swollen, Lady Winchester lost one of her precious earrings and decided to put everyone in the search until they found it under her vanity hours later.

Oddly her family decided to stay up late apparently as she could see the candles still on. But just as she set one foot inside, her mother pushed her abruptly.

“You’re a dishonorable daughter! We gave you everything!” One of her hands intended to land on her cheek but hit her on her ear instead.

“What happened?”

“Y-your aunt says you’re with a child, she saw you this morning and came to ask me.” Y/N’s mother was furious.

A woman came into view, her sister poking her head from the kitchen as her mother pushed her into the room next to it and closed the door. She demanded Y/N to undress and started touching her breasts.

“She’s with a child.” The elder woman confirmed, her hands still on her breasts.

Y/N’s face got paler by the second. Her mother gave the woman money and asked discretion.

A heavy silence filled the room, Y/N could hear a pin drop if someone threw one. Dizziness swept over her as her palms started to sweat.

“Your father will be so disappointed by you.” Her mother sentenced firmly. “You’re a whore, this sin will follow you from now on.”

Blood went to Y/N’s feet and she had to grab the vanity for support.

“You’ll tell Scott tomorrow and get him to ask your father’s permission to marry you before you start showing.” Y/N could hear her mother’s words as if she was underwater.

“I’ll save him the embarrassment, perhaps you can go to your grandmother’s house and hide there…” she was pacing the room as a maniac, Y/N was starting to process everything, she could hardly breathe.

“I didn’t know I could get pregnant without being married.”

Y/N’s mother laughed sarcastically. “It’s too late for that now, you should’ve waited until you got married!”

“You never told me this could happen.” Y/N felt on the edge of tears.

“I educated you with values, God only knows what you learned from that friend of yours.” Her mother mumbled something else Y/N couldn’t understand. Slowly she sat on the carpet, her skirt pooled around her hips and she finally sobbed. When one day Scott touched her breasts and it felt nice, electricity ran through her body. But he stopped right there. Then after taking her to the river, one of his hands sneaked under her skirt and moved her intimate clothes to the side and her body trembled. A week after that, he was about to start a fight with Tommy, for the night when they arrived after visiting Tommy’s new house. So in an attempt to make up for that fight, he took her to the river again and after kissing her, he told her he wanted to do something else. It had been over a month since she stepped in the middle of Tommy and Scott.

Y/N didn’t know she could feel such pleasure until he introduced himself into her body and she exploded of ecstasy. It felt right, he said he loved her and they went back a few days later.

Scott had said this should be between just the two of them, just as their love. But he never told her she could get pregnant.

Worry kept her up all night. She felt sorry for her poor father.

Covering her face with her hands, Y/N felt the tears rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

“Scott,” Y/N breathed with relief, all the worry from the past days when she hadn’t been able to reach out soon, forgotten. “I need to talk to you.”

“Y/N… I’ve to rest, haven’t had a decent sleep yet. Can we talk about this another day?” He had been out of the city, busy with God knows what, but this was important for her, for them, for their future.

Y/N studied their surroundings carefully, trying to keep her voice from shaking she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“We’re going to have a child, Scott I’m carrying your baby.” She whispered.

Scott blinked unamused by the news, his nostrils expanding profusely. Y/N wanted to reach out, to throw herself in his arms but as they were outside his house, she had to control herself. Keep her distance with him and behave accordingly.

But when he took a step back, she felt confused.

“I-I’m… this must be a mistake.”

“No, no. There’s a baby growing inside me.” She repeated, keeping her voice down. “We’ll need to figure out about the wedding, it’ll have to be something intimate and soon before it starts showing…”

“I’m not going to marry you.” Scott scoffed. “How can I be sure this child is mine? You could’ve slept with someone else just as you did with me.” He mocked her.

Before she could stop herself, Y/N found her hand flying to his cheek. Her palm tingled after the slap she gave him.

“How could you say something like that?”

“Don’t you ever dare to fucking touch me again!” He snapped. “And as for this little inconvenient… I’m not taking responsibility, you’re on your own.”

He gave her a disgusted look and walked inside his house. Leaving Y/N turned into a crying mess, she was hurt and disappointed by his reaction and terrified of the outcome.

Her mother sent her to talk to Scott to arrange the terms of the wedding and now she just realized he didn’t have her back. But what was worse, he thought she would sleep around like a whore.

Folding her arms, she walked with her head down. Guilt and embarrassment written all over her face. How would she deal with this? How would she tell her mother what Scott just said? She had been so sure she’d be able to hide it from her father by marrying Scott but now she was left in the worst possible way.

She cried uncontrollably feeling defeated, it was now too late to do something, but at the same time she didn’t know how she’d take care and raise a baby by herself.

“Where’s Scott?” Her mother hissed when her daughter appeared in her eyesight.

Y/N couldn’t speak, something heavy made her walk slowly. Her whole world was crashing down and now she’d have to face the consequences.

“He told me he wouldn’t take responsibility for a child who might not be his.” As the words left her mouth, she started crying again.

“Of course he would say that! What did you think Y/N?!” Her mother exploded. “He must think the worst of you now, how easily you have yourself away to him!”

“He told me he loved me!” Managed to shout through her tears and sobs.

Her mother’s hand flew rapidly and hit her hard.

A heavy silence surrounded them. Her cheek was burning from her mother’s slap.

“Leave Y/N!” Her grandmother intervened.

“She deserved that.” Her mother explained, she was beyond angry.

Y/N’s grandmother wrapped an arm around her granddaughter protectively.

“What happened?”

“Tell her, go on… tell your grandmother what you did.”

Y/N kept her head down, she felt like she couldn’t look her grandmother in the eyes. She had failed them terribly, the values and principles they had showed her were thrown through the window.

“No? Well, I’ll tell her myself.” Her mother warned. “Y/N didn’t wait until marriage, she gave herself away like a whore and is now with a child. Couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

“Well we’ll think of something, she won’t start showing right away.”

“There’s nothing to think mother, Scott is out of the picture he didn't accept the responsibility.”

“But he’s as responsible as Y/N.” Her grandmother pointed out thinking this wasn’t fair on Y/N.

“Your granddaughter’s honor is right on the floor, he even suggested the baby isn’t his.”

Y/N saw her mother pacing around the small room, it was making her feel sick.

“And your father arrives tomorrow… should we send her with your sister to Durham?” She pondered the possibilities thinking of her mother’s sibling.

“Absolutely not.” Her grandmother defended.

“Then what? What are we going to do?”

Y/N felt sick and rushed away from them. Her head was pounding, her stomach in a tight knot and her heart shattered into million pieces.

“Ma’am you can’t go in there.” Tommy heard from outside his office, then saw the door swing open.

“Mr. Shelby you’re the only one who can help me.”

Tommy rose to his feet in a second, the worry he found in Y/N’s grandmother raised all the alarms.

“What happened?”

“My son in law is hitting Y/N badly.” Her voice cracked, her hands reached for the sleeve of his suit. “You’ve to help her.”

Tommy took his coat from the rack and rushed to see what was happening.

“John, get Polly and meet me in Y/N’s house.” He demanded.

“I’ll go with them Mr. Shelby.” Y/N’s grandmother expressed, not wanting to make him wait.

Tommy doubted for a second, but with her hand, the elder woman ushered him, so it must be serious. Stepping in Y/N’s house without knocking because he heard her cries and pained screams from outside, but Tommy wasn’t prepared to find what he’d see.

Y/N was in the middle of the living room half her clothes shattered, kneeling on the floor and her upper body leaned over a chair, her back covered by the belt marks and blood.

He felt a rush of anger and disgust through his body. Tommy could practically taste his bile in his mouth, but as Y/N’s father was about to hit her again, he stepped in his way, holding the man’s hand firmly in the air.

“You touch her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Stay out of this Shelby, I’m dealing with this whore.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself or you’ll regret it.” Tommy muttered through gritted teeth.

John joined him with a couple of some of their men, they went straight to hold Y/N’s father away from her.

Y/N winced in pain when Tommy tried to help her up.

“This is a family matter!” Y/N’s mother shouted disturbed for the interruption. “You should respect that.”

“Yeah? Just like you’re respecting your daughter?” Tommy snapped, he lost all self control over this injustice.

“She has to deal with the consequences of her acts! Behaved like a whore, gets punished like one.”

Y/N felt her mother’s words like daggers to her heart. She wasn’t sure what felt more hurtful; her father’s hitting her with his belt or her mother’s words.

Tommy felt like throwing up, he apologized when he got Y/N in his arms and she complained from the pain.

“You can’t take her away!” Her mother warned, trying to stop Tommy.

He gave her a warning stare and mumbled; “watch me.”

Part 2

Divider

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @lau219 @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @shydysneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactic3a @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @ietss @abaker74 @natalie--rushman @elliaze @withyoutilltheendofthismess

#that’s what Cill said #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy x fem reader

622 notes · View notes

jjunieworld · 11 months ago

Text

the great bake off! ༘ ˚· 🍞 𓂅

read part two here ⇢ spilt milk ⋆｡˚

pairing: choi soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, bakery au, baker!soobin and non-baker!reader, “competing”, slight banter, brief mention of blood, some sexual innuendos, soobin is super shy

synopsis: after getting fired from your job as a pizza delivery driver, you’re in desperate need to find a new job before you get kicked out of your apartment. that’s when you hear about the local bakery looking for employees. thinking, “why not? i’ve worked with dough before!”, you apply and actually get the job. that’s when you and the son of the bakery’s owner decide that it would be fun to compete to see who can make the most baked goods for a prize.

word count: 8.6k┊part two┊masterlist

a/n: i’m a little late, but thank you all so much for 100 followers! here’s a little treat (lmao) expressing my gratitude! finally joining everyone in making a baker!soobin fic lmao… i got carried away so this is pretty long. i don’t even think it counts as a oneshot anymore but i hope you enjoy :) shoutout to the lovely @jjunberry for the florist!sunoo agenda ❀

“and don’t come back!” yelled the manager of the job you just got fired from. you took your apron and hat off and threw them on the ground in front of the establishment. you scoffed loudly, noticing the passing stares of the people walking outside and the judging ones of the customers inside.

“wouldn’t fucking dream of it!” you yelled back. the manager stepped back out of the doorframe, eyes wide, lip curled, and brows scrunched ready to retort. you cut him off with a middle finger and turned, angrily walking away to where your car was.

you didn’t need that stupid pizza delivery job anyways. half the time you weren’t even delivering pizzas because of how shitty they tasted. which wasn’t a fault of you, but a fault of your manager, who was also the owner.

majority of the time he had you in the back doing his job, making the pizzas, while he sat in the break room watching alpha male videos on his phone.

you slammed your door shut and rubbed at your temples. you had a tension headache and you couldn’t think.

“fuck!” you yelled loudly. what are you going to do now? you need a job so you can pay the rent of your shitty overpriced apartment. and you just knew you weren’t getting your last paycheck from your ex-manager.

sighing, you pull out of the parking lot next to the pizza place and head back to your apartment. you desperately needed a shower and to start job hunting as soon as possible.

you push open the door of your apartment and take a look around, thankful that you cleaned before you left. it was small, but it was home.

after your shower, you got a call from your best friend.

“what a fucking asshole!” sunoo exclaimed. you propped your phone up on the roll of paper towels as you began making something to eat. “but now you can come work with me!”

your face scrunched up. “i’d rather get evicted. love you though!” sunoo was a florist. there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but you could barely tell a daisy apart from a daffodil. and the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of different flower smells gave you another headache.

sunoo rolled his eyes. “fine then!” on your phone screen he raised his hands up and took a step back from the camera. “be broke then! don’t come crying to me when you’re out on the streets in the pouring rain waiting on a miracle when i’m offering you one right now!” you laughed at him.

“whatever! working with you is my last option though.” you put a pot of water on the stove for ramen. you really didn’t feel like making something elaborate after the day you had. “help me, sunoo! start listing off available jobs!”

he raised his eyebrow at you, “what makes you think i know what jobs are available and what jobs aren’t? go on google!” you rolled your eyes at him. he chuckled at you. “i did hear that that bakery downtown was looking for new employees, though.”

you raised your eyebrows at him, an ‘i told you so!’ smile on your face. he just rolled his eyes at you. “are they? i’ll have to call them. that’s a job for tomorrow y/n, though. i am so fucking tired.”

“i’d be tired too if i acted like a menace everyday,” sunoo replied. you shot him a look. “i do not act like a menace!”

“this is your second job in like three months… who are you? trish from austin and ally?” you gasped, putting a hand to your chest in somewhat fake shock. at least trish got a new job easily. it took you forever to find that pizza place job, and even longer for you to actually start working. you very nearly actually almost did get evicted if sunoo hadn’t stepped in and helped you.

“goodbye! i love you!” you said and leaned on the counter towards the counter. sunoo gave the camera a kiss and you jumped away in mock disgust. “bye, i love you!”

you ended your call and sat down to eat the ramen you made. sighing, you shoveled the noodles into your mouth. you really hoped that you got hired at this bakery. you didn’t know what you were gonna do if you don’t.

the next day you were up bright and early in the morning ready to call the bakery. you scoured google to see what the number was and after a couple misdirects you finally found it. your hands shook slightly as you pressed the phone to your ear and listened to the rings.

“hello, nap of a star bakery! if you are calling for a custom pie, orders will be pushed until next week!” a deep voice said over the line. your eyebrows raised slightly in shock and you hesitated for a moment as you thought of your next words.

“hello! i was actually calling to ask if you were hiring,” you replied. there was slight shuffling on the phone. “hello! yes, we are! have you picked up an application from the bakery? i can also email you a pdf version of it if you choose.”

you thought for a moment. it couldn’t hurt to go down and actually check the place out before deciding to work there. you did not need another repeat of the arcade job again.

“that’s okay! i can come down to the bakery for it!” the voice gave you an, “okay, have a good day!” and you hung up the phone after repeating them. you got your things together and left your apartment.

it took you a good minute to find the bakery. sunoo even had to text you directions. you recalled that the bakery was new and local. it was tucked away in between two buildings on the corner of the street. you parked your car and stepped your way towards the door.

the bell above the door rang as you pushed it open and stepped inside. behind the counter, a very tall dark-haired guy stood covered in flour rolling dough in a bowl. his head snapped up at the sound and a friendly smile plastered on his face. he pulled the gloves off and sat them next to the bowl. then he came up to where the cash register and a monitor were.

“hello! how may i help you?” he asked, rolling up his falling sleeves.

you took a look around the establishment. it was actually very nice. behind him, a chalkboard of everything their selling was written in an array of different colors. different baked goods were on display under the counter where the guy stood. there was also a door behind him to the back. natural light filtered in from the big windows at the front of the shop, highlighting the light minty colored walls and hanging stars. wooden tables and chairs with quilted seat covers tied to them were scattered around the open space. the overhead lighting was subtle and not harsh like so many other bakeries were. all in all, the bakery was very cozy.

“hi,” you smiled, “i called here not too long ago. about the applications?” his face lit up in realization and his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. he started to move around the counter.

“ah, yes! the applications! i can get you a pen if you want to fill it out here?” he asked as he grabbed the application from one of the tables near the door and turned to hand it to you. “assuming you brought your resume…” he then trailed off, a shy smile on his lips.

thankfully you did bring your resume. you took the application from him. “i did, actually, thank you!” he nodded slightly to himself and he walked back over to the counter and grabbed a pen from a cup next to the keyboard. he handed that to you as well. “here you go!”

you sat at one of the tables a little ways away from the counter. customers began filing in for orders as you filled the application out. all the motion was distracting you and you couldn’t help watching the dark-haired guy work.

he seemed to move fluidly from taking an order, pressing it all into the monitor, and either retrieving it from the back or display. you didn’t even realize he was also making more things while taking and completing orders until you saw him furiously trying to get the flour off himself when there were no customers around. you giggle lowly to yourself and finally finished filling the application out.

his back was turned to you as you walked up to the counter. he was still trying to get the flour off of him but was spreading it all over his clothes and apron instead. “uh, i finished the application,” you said softly. he jumped and quickly turned to you, an embarrassed smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

you stacked your resume with the application and handed it to him with the pen on top. he took it from you and sat it next to the keyboard.

you got the chance to get a look at his name tag attached to his brown and mint apron. the pretty signature with a shooting star next to it told you that his name was soobin. you got a good look at his face. he was quite pretty, even covered in flour.

he laid his hands flat on the counter and leaned towards you slightly. “okay, so your application will get registered and we should be with you within the week!” he told you, giving you another friendly smile. you returned it. “thank you!”

“have a good day!” you shot his words back to him and left the bakery, making your way to your car.

it was torture waiting for the email to know if you got the job or not. you were sitting in the chair behind the counter at chaconne, the flower shop that sunoo worked at, eyes glued to your phone as you kept refreshing your inbox.

“refreshing your inbox every five seconds isn’t going to make the email appear faster.” sunoo said as he arranged different flowers into a bouquet.

you sighed and slouched in the chair. you guess he was right. it’s only been a couple of days and it seemed like soobin was the only employee.

after sunoo wrapped the flowers and tied it off, he turned to you. today was a slow day in the shop, hence why you were behind the counter. not that sunoo’s boss minded, mrs. jeon loves you.

“so… anyone cute working at the bakery?” he asked, smirking. you looked up from your phone and chuckled. “there’s only one employee, at least i think. he was cute, in fact!” you replied. sunoo’s face lit up.

you tilted your head at him, you knew that look. that was his matchmaking look. “absolutely not,” you quickly said before he could open his mouth. “i need to keep this job if i do get it.” he brought his shoulders up.

“it’s gonna happen anyways. what else are the both of you to do in there together except get to know each other?” he brought his shoulders down and then leaned towards you, eyes wide. “what’s his personality like, tell me! he’s a baker right? duh, of course he is. i bet he’s a softie.” sunoo started rambling, mainly to himself.

you held your hands up. “woah, i met him for a total of like twenty minutes. i don’t have that information.” sunoo sighed and turned back around as customers entered.

you kept refreshing your phone, making small talk with sunoo as he made more bouquets. suddenly, you heard a ‘ping!’ sound and your eyes snapped to your phone to see the notification. “oh my god! it’s from the bakery!” you exclaimed. sunoo came over to you and leaned down next to you to see your phone. “well open it!”

you did just that and almost screamed from excitement had it not been for sunoo covering your mouth and looking around the shop at the lingering customers. “i’m not gonna get evicted!” you exclaimed and sunoo laughed as he rang up another customer.

it was your first day of working at nap of a star bakery and you were standing next to soobin and the owner of the bakery as your training started. it turns out that soobin was the son of the owner, and so far it was just the two of them at the shop. well, now the three of you.

“i’m so thankful you put in an application, y/n dear. it’s been difficult running the bakery with just my boy. your extra hands are very welcome!” mrs. choi told you, smiling warmly. you noticed the light blush across soobin’s cheeks as he rubbed his hand over his face. you smiled warmly at mrs. choi, “i’m very thankful you decided to hire me!”

she put you and soobin to work in the back room, starting on the goods, as she dealt with the customers up front. soobin began showing you how to make the dough for snickerdoodles. you stood side by side in your matching aprons and gloves.

“you want to make sure that you add enough flour so the consistency isn’t super sticky.” soobin said as he showed you the amount of flour to put into it. you let out a brief laugh.

“this isn’t my first time baking, i got this.” you gave him a confident smile. he raised his eyebrows.

“okay then… all you!” he took a step back from the bowl and you took one towards it.

you made snickerdoodles before. at least, you think you did. they were a pretty popular cookie to make, surely you’ve made them at least once in your life before. you cracked the eggs soobin had put out into the bowl. soobin had already added the butter, so it was up to you to figure out the rest of the ingredients.

thinking of what usually goes into cookies, you started reaching for different things. you eyeballed the amount you put in.

“oh! that’s not— you should really measure the ingredients!” soobin suddenly exclaimed. you felt his watchful eyes on you as you worked. you waved a hand behind you. you had this.

once you got all the ingredients in, you dug your gloved hands in and started mixing. there was sputtering from soobin behind you, but you ignored him. the dough was really sticky, so you took soobin’s words from earlier and reached for the flour.

the flour suddenly quickly poured out from the bag, way too much of it falling into the bowl. “oops!” you muttered, setting the bag back down, getting sticky dough everywhere. you dug your hands in again and started mixing until the dough was firm. you picked some up and rolled it into a small ball, then dipped the outside of the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture soobin has already set out.

you continued the process a few more times, struggling with the crumbling dough, until you filled the pan. you peeled off your gloves and picked the pan up, walking over to where the stoves were, a dumbfounded soobin trailing behind you.

mrs. choi popped her head in from the door and asked you both how it was going. you both turned. “it’s going great!” you beamed, pan still in hand. she gave you both a satisfied smile and went back to the front.

you put the pan of cookies in the oven. setting it to 415° you thought aloud at the amount of minutes you should set the timer for. “i think ten minutes should be good. or maybe fifteen? i’ll do fifteen just to be sure!”

once that was all settled, you dusted off your apron and turned to soobin, who was staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. “see, i told you. i got this! so what’s next?” your question must’ve snapped him out of his daze.

“oh— uh… you know— let’s just wait until the cookies are done. then we’ll continue.” he stuttered. you shrugged, stepping away from the stoves to get new gloves.

the timer dinged and you grabbed an oven mitt to take the pan of cookies out of the oven. you sat the pan on the cooling rack as you turned the oven off. soobin came near you and leaned over the freshly baked cookies, inspecting them. they were a pretty deep golden brown.

he grabbed the nearby metal spatula and went to lift one of the cookies to look under it. the cookie completely crumbled as he did. the inside was burnt. your mouth dropped in shock.

soobin looked over to you, his hand with the spatula still hanging in the air. he straightened, “so… let me show you how to actually make snickerdoodles. so that they don’t turn out like… this.” he motioned with the spatula to your failed cookies.

you nodded and couldn’t help but laugh. soobin hesitated before joining in with you. “this was a disaster, i’m sorry.” you said, covering your mouth. soobin took another look at the cookies before throwing them away in the nearby trash can. he looked back to you, “are you sure you’ve baked before?”

an embarrassed smile spread on your face. “no, not really. i mean i’ve made those cookies from the packages where you just have to add water…” soobin gave you a bemused look. he shook his head slightly and motioned you over to where the ingredients were.

standing next to him, he began guiding you on how to actually make snickerdoodles, you following his instructions. when you were about to do something wrong, like stick your gloved hands in the bowl to mix the dough again, he would stop you and tell you how to actually do it. “instead of mixing it with your hands, you want to take this—“ he held up a straight spatula “—and fold the dough instead.” soobin demonstrated for you as he spoke.

you nodded, following along. soobin stopped his motions and handed you the spatula. you took it from him and picked up from where he left off, folding the dough. once everything was mixed, soobin softly clapped. you laughed in amusement.

he pointed to the dough, “see how it’s not super sticky and not as firm and crumbly as yours was? that’s the consistency you want. this is the consistency that you’ll mainly be working towards when baking anything.” he picked up a small amount of dough and began rolling it between his hands. you copied his actions, and then rolled the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture.

after filling the pan, once again, soobin took the pan over to the oven and placed it inside. he turned to you, a reassuring smile on his face. “you don’t want to put it on too high or keep the cookies in for too long.” he put the oven on 350° and set the timer for 8 minutes.

“if you feel like maybe they’ve been in for too long, then you can go ahead and check them. i usually use a toothpick and the spatula to check the consistency and to make sure the bottom isn’t burnt.” soobin said. he did just that and backed away, his mouth forming a satisfied grin. nodding, you took in all the information he had just taught you.

that’s how the rest of your shift went. soobin walking you through how to make various baked goods. once you felt like you could start working on your own, soobin would move on to work on something else. here and there he would give you his input, and you’d apply it to whatever you were making. you and soobin made small talk as you worked, getting to know each other until it was time for you to start cleaning up.

you were absolutely covered in flour and dried dough. thankfully, once you and soobin we’re done with one baked good, you would clean whatever you used and the area before starting the next thing. so it wasn’t as messy as you were initially expecting the end of the day to be. you stripped your gloves off and threw them into the trash, soobin doing the same.

the two of you stood at the sink, him washing the dishes and you drying and putting them away. “i have an idea,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. soobin looked over to you, shaking his head a little to get their hair out of his eyes. he raised an eyebrow in question. “tomorrow we should see who can make the most stuff. like a competition! we can compete and whoever makes the most goods at the end of the week can win a prize or something! i don’t know, we can workshop the idea.” you exclaimed, you gave him a big hopeful smile as you rinsed and dried the dish he handed you.

“compete?” he asked. you nodded. he hummed as he thought. “okay! how are we gonna tally up points?” you put the whisk back in the drawer as you thought.

“each baked good can be a certain amount of points! like cakes and pies are three, pastries and cupcakes are two, and cookies and whatever else are one?” you looked at him, head tilted. “we can keep track on the chalkboard!” you then pointed over to the chalkboard next to where the door to the front of the bakery was. right now, it had a half erased list of what the two of you needed to make on it.

“okay!” soobin smiled. “let’s do it!” you squealed a little and ran over to the chalkboard, erasing the list on it. “hey! you’re suppose to be helping me wash dishes!” soobin laughed. you ignored him as you wrote.

on the chalkboard you wrote soobin and y/n in capital letters, drawing a line between your names and under them so it formed a table. “today doesn’t count since i was learning.” you spoke, placing the piece of chalk back on the little rack and turning to him. he looked back at you as he washed the dishes, grinning. you returned to his side and rinsed the dishes that he piled up.

“it’s on!” you said and glanced over to him. he laughed and shook his head. “in your wildest dreams.”

sunday rolled around quite fast and the bake off competition between you and soobin was at an all time high. currently, soobin was winning with a total of sixty-seven points. you were close behind him with sixty-six points. you were rushing to finish the cookies you were making for another point. the timer on the oven sounded off and you jumped in excitement, pulling out the freshly baked perfect cookies.

“another point for me!” you exclaimed, walking over to the chalkboard and adding a tally under your name. you turned to soobin with a wide grin. “now we’re tied!”

“because you keep cheating! all you’ve been doing the whole day is making cookies!” soobin spoke as he frosted a cake order meant for a birthday. on the top, the cake read “happy birthday honey!” with yellow and orange swirls and hearts. your grin widen and you gave a smug shrug. “step your cookies up before you crumble!”

soobin playfully scoffed at you and went back to adding intricate tubing to the cake. you leaned over it, watching him work. “i would be ahead of you right now if you didn’t take all the cakes and pies.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. he chuckled at you, staring over at you for a brief second.

“i’ll let you have the next one,” soobin said softly. he added the last bit of tubing on the cake before the door to the front opened. mrs. choi came in with a small piece of paper in hand. you and soobin turned towards her in unison.

“another order for one of our famous blueberry pies!” mrs. choi exclaimed as she wiggled the paper. she pinned it on the cork board next to the chalkboard with your scores and went back up to the front.

you and soobin looked back to each other, frozen. you saw the gears in his brain turning as you stared into his eyes. in the short week you’ve gotten to know him and the competition you’ve both started, you learned to read the look in his eyes when he’s up to something. narrowing your eyes slightly, you shifted your body ever so subtly to the cork board just in case you needed to make a break for it. a slight smile tugged at the corners of soobin’s mouth.

“it’s all you,” he said lowly. your eyes narrowed further and cautiously you took a step, eyes locked on him. taking another, and another until you reached the cork board, you let your eyes slip from him and his wide smile. the bag of frosting still in his hand.

snatching the piece of paper, your eyes scoured over it hungrily, taking in all of the information. a mischievous smile spread across your lips as you read further and saw that the order also called for four blueberry and lemon puffed pastries. you were so winning this battle.

you felt a breath on your neck and turned to see soobin looming over you. you quickly pressed the paper to your chest and faced him, a gasp escaping your lips.

“cheater! you said you were gonna give me this one!” an amused smile took over your mischievous one. soobin held a cake box, cake inside, in his arms. he lifted his shoulders, a laugh shaking them.

“you were taking too long for it to be a simple blueberry pie.” soobin set the cake box on the table by the door to the front. he then put a finger to his lips and tapped it cartoonishly, eyes looking up to the ceiling as he hummed. “and did i say i was going to give you this one?” you nodded quickly.

“i lied,” soobin said. he then dashed to the table where the ingredients were. you dashed after him, trying to start the pie before he did.

the two of you moved frantically around the large kitchen, running into each other and stumbling over things sitting on the floor. you quickly whisked together cornstarch and sugar as you ran to the fridge. pushing soobin out the way with your hip and spilling a little bit of the mixture over you, you retrieved the fresh blueberries with your free hand and ran over to the stove.

soobin already had a saucepan on the stove ready with the heat on. water and lemon juice already inside. you tipped the cornstarch and sugar mixture inside as well, half of it landing on the stove top rather than in the pan. you grabbed the spoon next to the stove and began furiously mixing before you felt hands around your hips. soobin pulled you away from the stove and to the side as he snatched the spoon from your hands and started mixing himself.

a giggle escaped your lips as you turned back to the ingredients table and finished the dough he started. it was already done since it had been refrigerated yesterday. you grabbed the rolling pin and flattened the dough out, making sure to flour the surfaces so the dough doesn’t stick. saving enough of the dough for the lattice of the pie, you pressed the remaining dough into a pie plate that you quickly grabbed. you then trimmed and fluted the edges.

you ran to get a circular knife. soobin must’ve finally noticed that you weren’t hovering around him and turned to see what you were doing, a confident smile on his lips. the smile dropped when he saw that you already had the base of the pie ready. soobin dropped the spoon on the counter next to the stove and dashed to where you were cutting strips into dough.

soobin tried to push you out the way with his hip but you dug your feet into ground and pushed him back. you started cutting the dough faster, the strips coming out sloppy and uneven. majority of them weren’t even the same length.

“accept defeat!” you laughed as you moved soobin’s prying hands away from the dough. the kitchen was filled with laughs and soobin poked a finger into your side, making you jump. “not when i’m so close to glory!”

“let me have this like you said you would!” you exclaimed. you were coming up on the last strips that you needed for the pie. it was hard to cut the dough when soobin kept grabbing at it. giggling, you pressed the circular knife back into the dough moving hurriedly when you got another shove from soobin’s hip.

the circular knife suddenly nicked your finger and you jumped back, dropping the knife, as blood began flowing from the wound. you both freeze and suddenly soobin is grabbing your hand with the bloody finger.

unconsciously, soobin puts your bloody finger in his mouth. all movements freeze as you stare at each other with wide eyes. not even breathing could be heard. the two of you are covered in various different ingredients and the kitchen around you is a mess.

soobin slowly takes your finger out of his mouth, his eyes widening by the second. your heart starts to beat rapidly at the exchange. heat warms up your face in full force and you can see the redness creep up from the back of soobin’s neck.

“oh my god…” soobin finally says. he’s still holding your hand, but, thanks to him the blood is no longer flowing. “oh my god! i’m so sorry, y/n! that was a force of habit.” soobin repeats. you let out an anxious giggle.

“you usually put people’s bloody fingers in your mouth?” you ask teasingly. his cheeks are a deep pink and you giggle at the sight. your heart seems to be beating faster and faster with each passing moment. soobin breaks away from your gaze with great effort, embarrassment written clearly all over his features. the tension between you is high and you start to sweat in your loose clothes and apron.

“i’m so so sorry, i really did not mean to do that,” soobin says lowly. you break into a fit of giggles, amused by the whole thing. slowly, soobin joins you with hesitant chuckles. soon you’re both doubled over, stomachs hurting from laughing so hard.

you’re holding onto the table for support when soobin speaks again. “maybe… we should take a breather…” he trails and you nod in agreement, holding your stomach slightly. soobin takes your hand softly and leads you to the sink where the first aid is. he motions for you to wash your hands. as you wash them, he pulls out a bandaid and begins opening it. once your hands are dry, he gently takes them and wraps the bandaid around the shallow wound on your finger.

soobin smiles shyly at you, his hands still holding yours. “y’know what… you can have the pie.” the blush on his cheeks has spread to his whole face as he spoke. you giggle and nod, “yeah, i would like that.” soobin’s face lights up in sudden realization.

“oh my god! the pie!” he turns to the stove, letting go of your hands, as he runs over to it. he takes the saucepan with the blueberry filling off the heated burner and puts it on one of the ones that’s turned off. you jog over to him, you both inspect the filling as he takes the spoon and mixes it. it was a little thicker than you both intended, but it was fine. you look at each other and start laughing.

“here, you finish the pie, and i’ll start cleaning up. we both look like a mess.” soobin hands you the spoon with a grin and you take it. he tried wiping some of the flour off of him to no avail as he walked over to the ingredients table.

by the time the blueberry filling has cooled, soobin has cleaned the majority of the kitchen. you bring the pan with the filling over to the pie plate and pour it inside the crust, saving the remaining for the pastries. soobin had already gotten the pastries ready for you, so you used the remaining filling for them.

the lattice for the top of the pie came out shotty at best, but it wouldn’t matter once it baked. you put both the pie and the pastries into their own oven and set them to cook. you turned to soobin to see he was about to start washing the dishes.

“i’ll wash them,” you said. he’s basically cleaned the whole kitchen, it was the least you can do. you washed and dried the dishes, putting them back in their respective places. you leaned back onto the counter near the ovens next to soobin.

soobin had updated the chalkboard, adding his three points for the cake he made and your seven points for the pie and pastries. he bumped your shoulder with his. “you won,” he said softly. soobin then grinned and added, “this week.” you chuckled at him, turning to him slightly.

“so what’s my prize?” you asked. the two of you hadn’t actually come up with what the prize would be. you’ve both been too focused on making the baked goods to actually win. soobin’s eyes wided a fraction, blush once again reddening his cheeks slightly. “what do you want?”

you faced forward again as you thought about it. “i don’t know… what are you willing to give me?” soobin’s blush deepens, but you aren’t facing him to notice. after a moment with no answer, you looked over to him, awaiting an answer. his head is angled down and it’s subtly tilted away from you.

soobin let’s out a cough and wipes his face before looking back up at you. “uh— what— um… how about i bake you anything of your choosing?” he sputters. you smile at him, “anything? even if it’s difficult?” soobin playfully scoffed and waved a hand in the air before crossing his arms over his chest.

“nothing is too difficult for me! it can be anything! cake, pie, pastry, cookie, bread, whatever. puffed, filled, turnovers, upside down, layered, anything. whatever you choose!” you thought for a moment, then smiled warmly at him. “what about blueberry bread?” you asked. “but, like really fancy… in honor of my first win and for many to come!”

he laughed at the smirk on your face. “done! when do you want it?” you shrugged at him, “whenever you have the time.” he nodded, more to himself than to you.

you were excited to see how soobin made the blueberry bread. you giggled at the thought of him giving you a fancy set up for something as simple as bread. nodding back to him anyway, the two of you made your way to the front of the bakery to end your shift.

sunoo had an eyebrow raised as you recalled the previous day’s events. he was half listening to your rambling and half paying attention to the customer he was checking out.

“and then,” you said, literally sitting on the edge of your seat, “he put my finger in his mouth!” sunoo whipped around to face you, eyes wide. the customer, who was starting to walk away, froze in their spot, also staring widely at you. “i know,” you nodded.

“he didn’t mean to… he said it was a force of habit, but still. like what? my heart was beating so fast, sunoo, you don’t even understand!” you continued. the customer gave you a wide playful smile and a thumbs up before exiting the shop. sunoo gasped as he took your hands.

sunoo looked at the fresh bandaid on your finger intensely. he then leaned back and looked at you, a knowing smirk on his lips. “what did i say, y/n! what did i say!” he teased. “and what happened after that? you started taking off each other’s clothes?” your face heated.

“no! we went back to baking!” you smacked his arm. sunoo sighed loudly. “lame! you should’ve told him to fill something else.” he gave you a wink as another customer came in.

you covered your flushed face with your hands. “sunoo!” you harshly whispered. he just laughed at you.

when you went into the bakery for your shift that day, you were surprised to see that soobin had already prepared your prize. in the back, the ingredients table was decorated with a flowery tablecloth. there was a pretty lace doily under where the plate of blueberry bread sat. candles were lit and there was a small note that read: for the talented y/n y/l/n in a bold cursive font.

soobin then came up to you, he was dressed very nicely with a button up shirt tucked into black slacks. there was a matching black tie tied around his neck. he held a metal plate with a tea towel and wrapped silverware on it in one hand, the other arm pressed behind his back.

“for you, my dear.” he held the metal plate towards you in a bow. you let out a small laugh at the whole scene as you took the contents from the plate. heart skipping a beat. just then did you realize that soobin had drawn a cartoonish mustache on his upper lip. loud belly laughs erupted from you and you leaned against the table for support. “the mustache?” you managed to breathe out, it being followed by another fit of laughter.

soobin joined you, relaxing his stiff stance. he sat the metal plate on the table. “you said make it fancy! i made it fancy!” you giggled and nodded, “you sure did!” he motioned towards the blueberry bread with a white gloved hand. you had to stifle your laugh at it.

“well? go on and try it!” you smiled at him and grabbed the knife from the wrapped silverware he had given you. you cut a slice of blueberry bread off the loaf and sat it on the awaiting plate next to it. grabbing your fork, you waved it in the air with a giggle and then used it to grab a piece of the bread. you ate the piece and thought for a moment as you swallowed it.

“wow!” you said as you grabbed another piece, “this is delicious!” soobin smirked smugly and raised his hands. “what can i say? i’m actually gordon ramsey.” you choked a little on the bread as you erupted into laughter. “sure…” you trailed playfully.

it’s been a little over a month since you’ve started working at nap of a star bakery, and it has been the best job you’ve ever had thus far. the little competition between you and soobin had turned from small battles to a full blown war. the two of you were baking so much to garner extra points that the bakery had a bunch of overstock and mrs. choi had to tell you both to slow down.

in that time, you and soobin have grown closer than ever. “i’m starting to feel replaced,” sunoo had said to you the other day, after telling him how soobin cheated to win that week. the competition had gotten so serious between the two of you that you were now competing to see who was the better baker. you even brought sunoo to the bakery a couple of times to be the judge.

you and soobin were once again frantically running around the kitchen, this time fighting over who gets to bake the wedding cake a customer ordered. you held a large plastic tray in your hands, running over to the ingredients table when your foot caught on a bag of flour and you and the plastic tray suddenly went flying. hands quickly caught your waist and steadied you before any real damage could happen. the tray made a loud noise as it landed on the ground, startling you more.

you breathed heavily in shock as you turned to look at soobin, your eyes wide. “woah,” you said. you both broke out into laughter. “jesus, y/n, you almost just saw the light.” soobin’s hands were still on your waist as you turned to face him fully. “thankfully you were here!”

soobin removed his hands and your waist felt cold without them. “maybe we should just work together on this one…” he trailed as he looked around the mess of the kitchen. “i mean, this is someone’s wedding cake after all.” you nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. he smiled warmly at you.

reaching up to his face, you giggled, “you have flour on your nose.” you purposely wiped flour on him and he scrunched his nose a little, a small grin on his lips. soobin takes his flour covered hands and wipes them across your cheeks. “you have flour on your cheeks,” he says. you raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

the two of you are laughing softly as you stare at each other. you dip your hands into the flour sitting on the table and cup both of soobin’s cheeks with your hands. this is a side game you and soobin have started recently, going up to each other with flour and saying that the other has flour on them. it makes even more of a mess, and mrs. choi is always surprised to see you when you go back to the front of the bakery, but it’s fun.

you’ve been secretly drawing hearts with flour on him and giggling at his confused stare when you wouldn’t tell him what you drew. it was always in a place he couldn’t see or reach.

“can you guess what i’m about to say?” you ask him. you feel his cheeks lift into a smile and see his dimples pop out. he starts laughing, “you have flour on your cheeks?” giggling at him, you squeeze his face a little.

“you have flour on your cheeks.”

you’re mere inches away from each other. somehow, soobin’s hands have found their way back to your waist and you’re both giggling as you stare into each other’s eyes. once the giggles subside and nothing but smiles are left, you notice an emotion you can’t figure out swirl in soobin’s eyes.

your heart is beating rapidly in your chest as you realize your sudden closeness and you watch as soobin’s eyes briefly flicker down to your lips. inhaling, you decide to just go for it and act on your emotions. you bring your lips to soobin’s, pressing them together softly. his hands tighten slightly at your waist as he kisses you back.

the kiss is slow and intimate. for a while now you’ve been crushing on him, ever since the day he made you that blueberry bread as a prize. sunoo has teased you mercilessly about it, calling himself cupid even though he had no hand in your blossoming feelings. the times when you brought him to the bakery to judge, he would drop not so subtle hints about your crush. you had to always give him a harsh glare over soobin’s shoulder.

your arms wrapped around soobin’s neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss deepened. your bodies were pressed up against each other. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you tried to breathe. your breath lightly fanned his cheek, lifting some of the flour off of it. soobin leaned towards you and kissed you passionately, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist.

when you broke apart, you both were breathing heavily, lips plumped at the sudden exchange. you smiled a little, “i’ve been waiting for you to do that.” soobin chuckled. “i’m sorry i didn’t do it sooner.” you both leaned in for another kiss but jumped apart when you heard the door to the front open.

mrs. choi took one good look at the two of you and shook her head in amusement. “how the two of you always manage to get covered in so much flour always amuses me!” she held up two small pieces of paper. “more orders! business is booming!” she laughed and the two of you awkwardly joined her. once she left, you and soobin looked at each other and started to laugh. you were absolutely covered in flour, mrs. choi was right. soobin nodded his head over to the abandoned dough you had started and the two of you began working on the wedding cake again. this time, together.

it was after hours at the bakery and you and soobin had your friends sitting at one of the tables at the front of the bakery so they could be the judges of who’s baked goods were better. you had met each other’s friends a couple times now through various judging events, so when you asked them to judge the final round to put it all to rest, they accepted.

today, you were going to find out just how much of a better baker you are than soobin. and you are gonna laugh in his face when everyone says how good your baked goods are. currently, you and soobin were in the back preparing your dishes. you had decided on a french profiterole cake while soobin had decided on a gâteau basque cake. you knew your cake was delicious, you had been practicing ever since you and soobin decided that you should have one last round to see who the greatest baker was.

soobin held a small plate out with a small slice of the cake he had made for the challenge out to you. you raised your eyebrows in shock and smiled up to him. “you trying to boost your ego before the judgment?” you asked as you took the fork from him and took a bite of the cake. your eyes widen at the flavor. “this is amazing, soobin! oh my god!” maybe you weren’t gonna win this after all…

soobin smiled warmly at you as he held up a small, rolled up piece of paper. you sat the plate down on the nearby table and took it from him, unrolling it. “be mine?” he asked, right as your eyes trailed over the same words on the paper. a smile broke out on your face and you stared up at him. he held another small plate on it, a small cake flower in the center. you giggled as you took the plate from him. “of course i’ll be yours!”

you sat the plate with the flower next to the plate with the slice of cake as you wrapped your arms around soobin’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. he laughed softly against your lips and pulled you close.

“hello?” you heard a voice drag out from the front of the bakery. “when are we going to get to judge? i didn’t come here hungry for nothing!” you heard muffled voices and then a “shh! shut up beomgyu! what if they’re getting busy? you know how badly he needs that.”

giggling, you pulled away from soobin, giggling harder at his flushed cheeks. you held his hand and looked longingly at him. “you ready?” you asked. soobin nodded, then smirked a little. “you ready to get told you’re the second best baker?”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, letting go of his hand so that you can grab your cake. the two of you brought your cakes out to the front and your friends erupted into claps. “finally!” soobin’s friend beomgyu had said. his arm got playfully hit by the guy next to him, who you’ve come to know as yeonjun.

“i love you, y/n, but if your cake tastes like shit i’m spitting it out and looking at you with the upmost betrayal. don’t embarrass me here after i’ve been talking you up!” sunoo teased as you and soobin sat your cakes down in front of them. you laughed at him, holding a hand to your chest in mock hurt.

there were already empty plates and silverware placed in front of all of your friends. “alright!” you started. “welcome to the great bake off! yes, the great british bake off was copyrighted… but that’s okay!” laughter sounded around you as you clapped your hands together. you looked over at soobin, “do you wanna go first or do you want me to go first?”

soobin shrugged. “i’ll go first.” he cut slices of his cake and put them each on your friends’ empty plates. “alright, you already know how the judging works. each judge will take a bite from the food and we’ll go down a line one by one for statements. dig in!” soobin spoke. your friends did just that, murmurs of how good the cake was coming from them.

“alright, kai, you’re up!” kai hummed and put a finger to his chin as he thought. “it was absolutely disgusting,” he said as he took another bite. “seriously soobin, what is wrong with you?” kai kept eating the cake as you all laughed.

taehyun nodded in approval, praising soobin for how good of a job he did with the cake. yeonjun stood from the table, did a cartwheel, and sat back down before calmly saying that it was delicious. you and sunoo stared at him with wide eyes as you saw the regret and slight embarrassment form on his heated face. beomgyu hummed, dramatically putting a finger to his lips and tapping as he kept taking more bites. he hummed again.

soobin walked up to him and grabbed him around the collarbones, shaking him slightly as everyone laughed. “it’s really good!” beomgyu said as he sat his fork down, plate empty. yeonjun shook his head at him. sunoo then cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “it was very delicious, but not as good as y/n’s cake!” he said. you laughed, “you haven't even tasted mine yet!” sunoo shot you a glare with wide eyes as he shushed you.

you cut up slices of your cake for the judges, putting one on each of their plates. they barely took a bite of your cake before they all jumped up from their seats and started loudly clapping. dramatically saying how wonderful your cake is and how their taste buds have never graced such perfection. you couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from your mouth at them.

“fantastic! you are truly are the best baker that ever lived!” taehyun exclaimed, clapping hard. “truly, truly. i mean, this cake is godly! higher than that even!” sunoo added as he dramatically took another bite and melted back down into his chair. you shook your head at them.

you looked over to soobin, pouting. he laughed softly at your acceptance of defeat. his cake was absolutely amazing…

soobin came over to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. you looked at him as he smiled down at you. playfully, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. soobin placed a kiss on the top of your head, leaning his head against yours as you both watched the dramatic appraisal from both of your friends.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part two┊request rules ༘ ˚· ౨ৎ ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

892 notes · View notes

coinandcandle · 11 months ago

Text

Witchy New Year Refresh

It’s the new year soon and I wanted to share what I plan to do to invite 2024 in with vim and vigor!

I plan to do this over a few weeks as doing it all at once would be exhausting and just isn’t possible for me. Do what works for you and listen to your mind and body!

Clean and Cleanse

Not just spiritually, but I plan to physically clean my space. Any time I am inviting something new into my home—be it the new year, new energy, or a new way of thinking—I clean and cleanse my space.

I’m not one for spiritual sterility, though. I tend to deep clean or organize my spaces and then I will move on to spiritually cleaning my space! Here are some ways you can do this:

Smoke cleansing - a common one but it’s a good one! Not a great option if you have asthma or pets.

Open windows - It’s pretty cold where I am right now but I still like to open the windows for a little bit to let the air flow through the space and carry out any stagnant air and energy.

Sound cleansing - Not always the best option for folks who live with others or have thin walls but I like to blast music and fill my space with sound. When doing this I prefer to use a playlist that invokes the energy I want to bring with me into the new year!

Spray incense - If smoke isn’t possible for you try using a sprayable incense! Just be careful since this will still distribute a substance across your space and if you have children or pets it’s best to use non-toxic plants for this.

Simmer pot - I love to throw together a simmer pot for cleansing my space. I find it works best in the room you’re in which is likely the kitchen but if you have a wax warmer or mug warmer then you can make a mini simmer pot by placing a heat-safe container of water on it and putting in whatever herbs and oils you want!

Connect and Reconnect

I have ADHD and if something is out of sight, it’s out of mind. To this point, I tend to forget about my oracle/tarot decks, offering vessels, and spell vessels. Here’s a few ways I plan to try to connect and reconnect with the spirits and energy around me.

Clean and organize altars or offering spaces - Self-explanatory but this means dusting, wiping down, and moving things around. It could also mean adding new things and tossing old things that have served their purpose.

Set out new offerings - I plan to try and truly connect to my house spirit(s) this year so I want to find a space in the home where I feel like I can best feel its energy and I will leave an offering. This also means refreshing offerings for deities.

Check-in with spell vessels - I’m a very physical witch, I tend to prefer having a real-world anchor for my spells. This adds up, though, and I’m stuck with a bunch of jars, bowls, pouches, or whatever else. Check-in and see if they’re still active or if you still need to maintain the physical aspect of the spell. If not, dispose of them appropriately.

New Year’s meditation - Practicing mindfulness and doing a meditation session to help me connect with myself going into the new year.

Shadow work or self-care - Shadow work is a form of self-care to me, though some of it can be intense and that’s not how I want to start my new year. Instead, I’ll be doing either some very gentle shadow work or I will be otherwise practicing simply self-care.

Misc

Other things you can do for the new year that I don’t have a category for!

Make a hearty and satisfying breakfast on New Year's Day to welcome in the new year--or at least a satisfying cup of coffee!

Drink tea that invokes the energy you’d like to follow you into the new year.

Make a list of things you would like to learn or try in the new year as far as your practice goes.

Here are some posts to look through for the coming year!

2024 Witchy Calendar by @breelandwalker

Witchy Self-Care post by @ts-witchy-archive

Witchy Quick Tip - Mini simmer pot by me

Celebrating the New Year by @thevirginwitch

Please feel free to add any in either a reblog or comment! <:

Enjoy my posts? Consider leaving me a tip on my ko-fi!~

#witchcraft #witchblr #pagan #witch tips #witchery

693 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home.

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal.

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos.

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day.

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface.

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight.

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work.

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus.

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you.

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two.

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck.

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning.

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day.

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates.

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite.

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling.

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place.

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water.

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on.

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too.

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light.

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.”

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.”

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers.

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.”

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break.

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get.

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference.

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief.

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe.

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch.

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning.

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.”

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think.

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him.

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs.

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key.

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again.

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings.

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right. You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!”

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again.

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort.

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head.

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.”

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida.

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys.

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand.

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?”

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat.

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that.

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long.

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one.

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning.

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful.

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then.

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion.

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.”

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment.

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns.

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner.

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this.

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister.

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.”

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent.

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.”

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations.

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @lost-in-the-stars03 @aysheashea @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

1K notes · View notes

autumnleaves1991-blog · 4 months ago

Text

Can't Take the Home out of Oklahoma (Javi Rivera x F! Reader)

A/N: Thank you to everyone that read We Found Love in a Tornado, this is a continuation of that. I also have another part already written and ready to post! I also recommend listening to Out of Oklahoma by Lainey Wilson while reading this. I had it on repeat the whole time I wrote it.

Pairing: Javi Rivera x F! Reader (Kate's Sister) *No physical descriptions besides mentioning younger sister.

Warnings: 18 + Language, angst, some sexual situations (no smut..yet), and movie spoilers.

“I lost three of my best friends so you could get your big grant money!” Javi shouts at Kate and she takes a step back like he’d struck her. His hands are still shaking as he replays the words over and over like a broken record. “Shit, Kate, I-”

Kate pushes past you and runs towards the white truck and you don’t hesitate to follow. “Baby,” Javi follows close behind running to keep up, “no, please don’t go.”

“No Javi,” you stop holding up your hands, “that was too far, give her some space.”

He freezes, tears tracking through the dirt staining his cheeks. But you leave, climbing in the passenger seat beside your sister and taking off into the night. Kate is silent, her knuckles bright white with how hard she is clenching the wheel and you slip off your boots and lean back closing your eyes.

“You don’t have to go with me, you know,” she whispers, her eyes still on the road.

You sit up slowly opening your eyes. “I’m not letting you go again,” you reach a hand out and leave it outstretched before her own holds on tight across the center console. “We Carter girls got to stay together. Let me know when we get there.”

Kate huffs out a broken laugh, “And where are we going?”

“You can’t take the home out of Oklahoma, Katie, you’ll know when you get there,” she squeezes your hand but doesn’t let go and you lean back closing your eyes.

Several hours pass before the truck slows down and you blink away the sleep, the old farmhouse a friendly site. You sit up, look at Kate with a small smile, and follow her out of the truck, finding the spare key and entering the house.

Everything is as you left it and you quickly find two glasses and fill them with water from the jug in the fridge. “Mama, it’s us,” Katie calls when a shadow moves in the doorway, her arms opening for us.

“My girls,” she embraces us and presses a kiss to our head, before looking at our disheveled appearance and the blood drying on Kate’s cheek. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Kate shakes her head, “we just needed to come home.”

“You go take a shower, I’ll get you some extra clothes and clean up the bedroom,” Mama hurries towards the stairs.

“You shower first,” you hold Kate’s hand and follow mom up the stairs, “you stink.” Kate smiles sadly before giving you a playful shove.

“If I knew you girls were coming, I would have had the room all set up,” Mama tosses shirts and magazines into a box before putting it on the bed with a sigh. “What happened out there?”

“We survived an EF4,” she covers her mouth, “barely to be honest. If it weren’t for Kate we’d probably be dead. Javi and Tyler covered us from the brunt of the damage.”

“Javi? He came by a few months ago looking for you two. And isn’t Tyler your boss?”

“Yeah, he is. He’s a really great guy, and absolutely losing his mind over Kate.”

“No, he is not,” Kate blushes coming into the room and ringing out her hair with the towel, “we’re just acquaintances. If you want to talk about someone losing their mind it’s Javi! He ran into a Tornado and confessed his love for you live on camera.”

“He did what now?” Mama looks between you two, before crossing her arms with a smirk, “I am going to have to see this video.”

“Tomorrow,” you tell her, “I promise you can see the video tomorrow. Tonight he’s on my shit list.” You walk away towards the shower, stripping off your clothes.

“Uh oh,” Mama calls, “trouble in paradise?”

“You tell her,” you shout at Kate before getting in the shower and washing off the dirt and grime from the day. When you emerge Mama is gone and Kate is snuggled under the covers of the queen size bed of her former bedroom.

“Do you need anything?” you ask her, tugging on the clothes Mama left at the end of the bed. Kate doesn’t say anything, just pulls back the cover with a raised brow. You don’t hesitate crawling into the bed beside her and flicking out the light. “You okay?” you whisper, turning to face her.

“No,” she shakes her head, “Javi was right. They died because I got it wrong. I killed them.”

You reach over and pull her into your arms, letting her cry against your chest, her arms wrapped tight around your waist. “Listen to me, Katie,” you whisper when her cries slow, brushing her hair out of her face, “it was a horrible tragedy. And there is nothing you did that could change that. That storm took everything from you, when are you going to stop letting it?”

Kate is quiet contemplating your words and eventually sleep claims you both. Two sisters, holding on to one another, weathering the storm.

The next morning comes too soon, the sun streaming through the window and the roosters crowing at the first break of daylight. Mama moves around the house and the scent of coffee floats up the stairs, and you crawl out from under Kate and slip silently down the stairs.

“I LOVE YOU!” you hear Javi shout from the kitchen and come around the corner to see Mama sitting at the table with her laptop and a cup of coffee. A hand pressed to her mouth as she watches the moment Javi literally ran through a storm to follow you.

She presses the keyboard and looks up at you, “that’s got to be the most damn romantic thing I’ve ever seen. And I watch alot of hallmark movies.”

You snort, “thanks, mama. I feel pretty lucky to be on the same level as hallmark.” The coffee is fresh and you prepare the cup and bring it over to the table, “I wish we could just live in that moment.”

“Why? Is he not treating you right?”

“No, he is. And I do really love him, but he hurt Katie. And his company Storm Par while built with good intentions are taking advantage of people’s tragedy.”

“Sounds like something you need to talk about with him,” she sips her coffee and reaches a hand out to hold your own. “Javi is a good man, he’s really grown since he first came around here. And I can tell by that video that he really loves you. You’ll figure everything out.” Mama rises, kissing the top of your head before walking out the front door to muck and feed the cows.

You sit there, drinking another two cups of coffee before Kate stumbles down the stairs dressed for the day. You switch places, giving her a cup before climbing back up the stairs to get dressed. When you’re finished you follow her out to the barn and sit back watching her go through the memories and the grief that follows.

Neither of you notice the sound of a truck pulling up until the barn door opens and Tyler and Javi walk through the door followed by our smirking mama. “Seems like you two have some guests,” she looks between the four of you, seeing the variety of expressions. “I’m gonna make some lunch, the boys are staying.” She doesn’t ask, retreating to leave the four of you in silence.

Kate sighs rubbing her head, “what are you doing here?”

“Javi here gave me your address, Dex remembered your name from an article a few years back,” Tyler steps toward her, “I’m real sorry about your friends.”

“And I was an asshole,” Javi's voice cracks, “I should never have said that, Kate. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, it’s the truth. I killed them,” Kate lowers her head fidgeting with her fingers, “but-I am tired of letting that storm take anything else away from me.”

“Can we have a moment?” Javi looks between you and Tyler, and you look to Kate who nods at you. You follow Tyler out of the barn but not before Javi reaches for your arm and pulls you into his chest, snaking his arms around your waist. “When I’m done here don’t think you’re getting away with leaving me again.”

You nod, squeezing him tight before following behind and closing the barn door. Mama stands against the fence acting like she hasn’t been listening the whole time and you laugh.

“That fence seems real interesting mama,” you tease giving her a hug from behind.

“Tyler,” she turns, wrapping you up in her arms, “you’ve been taking my baby into Tornados for two years and we haven’t met, how is that possible?”

“I’m not sure ma’am but I think you may be seeing a lot more of me.” Tyler looks back at the barn doors before turning back around, “hopefully.”

“Why don’t you stay the night? We have plenty of extra space.” Mama holds you tight as you go to protest, effectively shutting you up. “I insist, both you and Javi can spend the night.”

Tyler beams, “thank you ma’am, sounds like a wonderful offer.”

“Perfect, I’ll go make some lunch!”

Tyler waits a moment before chuckling at the embarrassed expression on your face. “She seems real friendly,” he teases.

“Nosey is more like it,” you grumble before cracking a smile, “but she means well.”

“How are you holding up?” He asks, leaning on the fence beside you, “that was one hell of a twister.”

“I think the twister was rather mild compared to the rage I felt when Javi yelled at Kate.”

Tyler lifts a brow, “you’ve kinda jumped ship with everything regarding your sister. I remember a few days ago you being so angry to see her.”

“That was before I knew, before I really understood…how broken she is.” You glance up to see Tyler already looking at you, “my sister lost everyone she cared about. I remember thinking Jeb was the one she was going to marry someday. They loved each other so much.”

You sit there silent before the creaking of the barn door has you standing up straight, Javi making a beeline to you. “She’s all yours,” Javi tells Tyler, clapping him on the back as the other man all but runs into the barn.

Javi stands before you, your arms crossed over your chest and a frown on your face. “Baby-“ he starts before you step forward and shove him, hard.

“That’s for what you said to Kate,” you feel the tears burn, shoving him again, “and that’s for being an asshole.”

“I deserve that,” he says quietly, resigned. “You done pushing me, baby?” You nod, brushing the tears off your cheeks and he holds up his hands, “can I hold you?”

“Yes,” he doesn’t hesitate for a second.

His arms are warm and you can feel the muscles as he tugs you into his chest, your head landing in the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, pressing kisses to your head, “I’m so sorry for saying that. I-I was just angry and hurt and scared and I took it out on you and Kate.”

“I was scared too, Javi,” you hold him tighter, “I almost had you ripped away from me, literally. We almost died in that pool, all of us. And then the second we get out, Scott is there trying to make money off of that motel owner. I just lost my mind.”

“I know,” he rests his head against you, “I got to figure a way out of this. I really needed the money for the start up, but not like this.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he pulls back to look down at you.

“We?” he smiles.

“Yes, we. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I don’t know about that. I was unprepared for how much it would hurt to see my whole life drive off in my truck.”

You cringe, “sorry about that. We did kind of leave you stranded.”

“You had every reason,” he shakes his head pulling you back into his chest, “I was a major asshole.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “you were.”

He laughs, tickling your side, “hey! I said I was sorry.”

You squirm trying to move away but he holds you tighter, both of you laughing, the stress from the last 48 hours melting in his arms. “I forgive you.” He sags in relief, before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, your arms winding around his neck. The kiss turning more passionate with every second.

“That is going to take some getting used too,” you jump apart with a yelp. Kate and Tyler standing in the doorway to the barn. “My best friend and my baby sister, gross.”

“Oh hush,” you chastise teasingly, “imagine how I feel with my boss making goo goo eyes at my older sister, talk about gross.”

“I do not make goo goo eyes,” Tyler puts his hands on his hips.

“But you don’t deny you have feelings for her?” you challenge matching his stance.

“Well I- “ Tyler shakes his head before sighing, “I can’t argue with you there.”

Kate looks at him with wide eyes and opens her mouth to respond when Mama shouts from the front porch, “lunch is ready!”

The conversation burns in their eyes and you look at Javi with a grin, pulling him towards the kitchen to help bring out the food.

Mama has outdone herself, bringing out a plethora of bbq and sides for us to devour. The sweet tea flows and everyone smiles as they dig into the food.

“So Javi,” Mama passes me the coleslaw, “what are your intentions with my youngest?”

Javi chokes on his tea and you frantically pat his back and glare at your mama. He clears his throat, catching his breath and taking your hand, “Excuse me ma’am you caught me by surprise.” Mama grins, not looking the least bit sorry for almost killing your boyfriend. “I love her. I’m going to do my best to never let her forget that for the rest of her life. And in the future, if she’ll have me,” he meets your eyes, giving you a wink, “she’ll let me become Mr. Carter.”

“Good,” Mama smiles, “and you,” she turns to Tyler.

Tyler never falters, his smile in place as he looks at Kate, “maybe I can convince Kate to give me a second date. Since the first one was interrupted.”

“That was not a date,” Kate argues.

“Okay,” he nods, “then a first date. We can start there.”

“How about you go tonight?” Mama smiles, looking at the four of you, “take her line dancing.”

“Mama,” Kate chastises, “I’m not ready.”

“No time like the present, Katie,” Mama stands lifting the plates and walking towards the house.

“We don’t have too,” Tyler places a gentle hand on her arm, “I just want to spend some time with you.”

Kate looks at him grateful, “thank you.”

“What about you?” Javi looks at you with a smile, “want to go line dancing?”

“You want to go line dancing?” Your brows reach the ceiling as you look at him.

“Or,” he looks at Kate and Tyler, “how about we dance here?” He stands holding out his hand, “milady?”

“There’s no music,” you stay seated looking for your sister for backup.

“I got it,” Tyler pulls his phone from his pocket and pulls up the Spotify app. “Here we go,” he turns up the volume, Ain’t in Kansas Anymore by Miranda Lambert blaring out of the small speakers.

“Come on baby,” Javi moves his hips back and forth and you stay in your spot watching him with wide eyes. “Tyler buddy, come help me out!”

Tyler jumps up with a cheer and as the chorus breaks they start dancing, their fingers in the air as they twirl their finger in Tyler’s signature move. Kate laughs beside you, quickly covering her mouth as they move to the beat, spinning to give you their backs.

“Come on girls,” Mama shocks you both, whipping around, “live a little.”

“Shit,” Kate looks at you with a shrug, both of you scrambling to your feet to dance beside them. The four of you laugh through several songs, trying to keep up with the steps, Javi breaking off to pull you into his arms for a slow dance. Jelly Roll and Lainey Wilson serenading you to Save Me.

You rest your head on his chest as he sways you to the music. Kate and Tyler move closer together and he holds one of her hands and wraps the other around her waist. They’re stiff at first before Tyler flashes her a smile and she melts into his arms.

“I meant every word,” Javi whispers and you lift your head to look at him, hands pressed to his chest and his hands low on your hips. “I love you, baby. And I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you.”

“When did you know?” his eyes soften as he thinks back.

“When you came and tapped me out.”

“That long?” You shake your head, “we’ve wasted so much time.”

“What about you?”

“After the EF5,” you close your arms and lean against his chest, “I just remember running into the hospital and seeing you standing there. And my heart stopped.” His hands run comfortingly on your back, “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”

“I know,” he tightens his arms around you, “I felt so numb to everything and then you come barreling into me. Almost took me to the ground,” he chuckles, “I should have realized it then.” He shakes his head, “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“We both made mistakes,” you open your eyes and pull back, “the main thing now is that we’re together and nothing is gonna tear us apart.”

He leans down and kisses you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The music fades and for a moment nothing exists besides the two of you. His lips are warm and soft and he groans tugging you closer till you’re flush against each other. His tongue moves out to flick against your lips and you open your mouth on a moan tugging his curls between your fingers.

“Javi,” you whimper, feeling him hard against you and leaving you dripping.

When you come up for air you notice the music gone and so are Tyler and Kate. “Do you wanna move this inside?” he whispers against your lips.

“God yes,” you sigh, “but I would rather the first time we have sex not be in my childhood bedroom.”

He chuckles, his voice deep and raspy, “understood. But,” he leans down lowering his voice to whisper in your ear, “but I am going to make love to you baby, and soon. I’m gonna taste every inch of this body and have you shaking beneath me, till I make you cum so hard you see stars.”

“Fuck, Javi,” you grind against him, your panties drenched, “you can’t say shit like that to me.”

He chuckles holding your hips and pushing you back a step, “down girl,” he teases, “you’re trying to climb me like a tree.” He laughs when you pout, “you’re the one that didn’t wanna have sex in your childhood bedroom. You worried Justin Timberlake would be jealous?”

“Don’t insult Justin,” you glare, “he’s been with me a long time.”

He holds up his hands in surrender with a smile, “okay, I’m sorry. I’ll never speak ill of Justin again.”

“You better not,” you warn playfully, “or there could be trouble.”

He reaches for you, putting an arm around your shoulders and leading you into the house. When you’re outside Kates room he gives you a soft kiss, his lips lingering for a moment before he whispers, “love you,” against your lips before going into the room, mama set up for him earlier.

“I love you,” you whisper back, going into the room and closing the door quietly behind you.

“I thought you’d spend the night with him,” Kate says softly from the bed, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

You quickly change into your pajamas before crawling into bed beside Kate and pulling her into your arms, “I’m happy right here.”

Kate feels tense, her shoulders tight, “Tyler wants me to try again,” she whispers into the darkness. “He found my research and wants me to try again to tame a tornado.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“I want their death to mean something,” your shirt dampens from her tears and you rub her back. “I want to try again but I’m-“ her voice cracks, “I’m so scared of getting it wrong again.”

“Only you can decide Katie,” you give her a squeeze, “but I can guarantee one variable that’s different this time.”

“What’s that?”

“Tyler Owens. He is the tornado wrangler, and heaven help anything that tries to take you away from him. Trust him, he won’t let you down.”

Kate contemplates, her shoulders dropping as she melts into you and it only takes a moment for her to breathe to even out. You sit there and wonder how long it’s been since she slept so peacefully, and you tug her closer before falling asleep.

@angryschnauzer @itspdameronthings @mars-interlude @its-breanna-lynn @waitingforsols @combat-sixty-three @phoenixhalliwell @littledragonlady @wunder-blunder @

#Javi Twisters #Javi Rivera x reader #Javi Twisters x reader #female reader #Twisters 2024 #Anthony Ramos #Autumn Writes #Spotify

174 notes · View notes

badasmuse · 1 year ago

Text

“Homewrecker”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, language, cheater!bada, bottom!bada, bada is married to h*wl, bada has a daughter, top!reader, lonely bada, she also cries, appearance from itzy’s yuna

Summary: bada is lonely, you fix that.

Part 2 Here

you absolutely loved children. ever since you were fifteen when you started babysitting for your neighbor that’s when you knew. you actually wanted to start your own daycare but you wanted a degree so you decided to take a few online classes in early childhood education. but, going to college meant you need money for books and such so you never stopped babysitting. but your usual child’s father came back into her life making you jobless once again, so when you received a text from an unknown number stating she got your number from her friend you jumped with joy. and that’s how you started working for bada lee and her husband.

on your first day, you pull up to the extremely big house, you’re nervous. you keep thinking, what if i lose this kid in this big ass house.

there’s a tall woman and a slightly shorter male standing in the doorway holding a little girl. she looks about seven. you step out of the uber and approach the little family. “hi i’m y/n. i’m looking for ms. lee?”

“that’s me.” she steps out shaking your hand. “you can call me bada. this is my husband howl, not his real name but as a dancer it’s just what he goes by, and our daughter chaeyoung. come in.”

you follow the woman in and dude when i tell you this house is huge. you could probably fit three semi trailers stacked on top of each other in here. with the wheels still on and everything. you’re too busy admiring the house to hear what bada is saying.

“got that y/n?” is all you hear.

“huh? oh i’m… im sorry i was admiring your house i didn’t hear a thing. could you… repeat that?” you say shyly.

“oh no problem. this is a list of people you can call if you can’t get in touch with either of us. always try lusher first she’s my best friend she’ll always be able to get ahold of me. i’ll be out at the studio a lot this month because i’m choreographing a few comebacks and howl is getting ready to go to japan to teach some classes. i will be back around nine tonight. here’s chae’s bedtime routine. she’ll try to stay up past eight thirty, if she fights let her because she’ll fall asleep in the next five minutes. you can just lay a blanket over her on the couch and i’ll carry her to the room when i come back. is that too much at one time?” bada asks after literally vomiting a shit ton of information.

“no no i think i got it all. also, if you’re gonna be dancing, i don’t mind carrying her to her room. you’ll be tired and probably want to shower, i can handle it.” you say smiling.

“if you can i’d appreciate it. oh we have to go. chae you be good for y/n okay? i mean it.” bada says crouching in front of the girl who just nods in response before hugging her mother tight and hugging her father’s leg.

soon, it’s just you and her. boy did she give you a run for your money. you did lose her in the house while playing hide n seek. she made you play dress up with her. she took your phone and hid it, spilled apple juice everywhere, and even went into her parent’s room and took one of her mom’s lipsticks.

by now it’s eight thirty and she surprisingly went to bed without an issue, which you were grateful for because now you have to clean the mess in the kitchen and living room.

“hi i’m home.. y/n?” you hear bada say.

“kitchen!” you respond.

“what.. happened?”

“oh she spilled apple juice. this- here. she took this from your room. um, do you mind calling my phone?” you mumble.

bada sighs and goes into a room before coming out with your phone in hand. “i’m sorry she did this to the last babysitter, and the one before. if you don’t want to continue just let me know okay?” she says helping you clean the apple juice.

you look up at her and see the sweat dripping down her face, the tired look in her eyes. she’s obviously struggling. “what time should i be here tomorrow?”

her eyes light up and she smiles brightly. “um, same time okay? it’ll just be me and her, my husband will be gone early.”

“i’ll be here. go shower. i’ll finish up and make my way out of here.” you pick up the used paper towel, throwing it in the garbage.

thirty minutes later she emerges from the bathroom dressed in a new pair of sweats and a tank with her wet hair flowing down her back.

“i’ll get your uber home. can you put your address in here?”

now it’s been four months and man, the feelings you feel towards this woman are crazy.

“she’s just so.. fine, yuna.” you say to your best friend. “when she comes home from the studio and she’s dripping with sweat. you know how hard it is to not jump on her?”

yuna laughs, “isn’t she married?”

“yes but… come on. her husband is never really there. she’s always tired and probably sexually frustrated. i could fix that for her for real.” you say taking the drink from her.

“that’s mine.” she sighs, “well are you gonna go for it?”

“i don’t know, should i? what if i get fired?” you say.

“then you get fired. come on i’ll drop you off. it’s almost time.”

once you arrive at the house, you knock and wait, watching yuna pull off. bada opens the door and looks at you surprised. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

you blink, “it’s.. saturday?”

“oh! oh i’m so sorry. first come in.” she steps to the side, “i’m sorry, chaeyoung is with her grandmother for today. i thought i told you. probably forgot i was doing so much this morning. i feel so bad you probably ubered here, let me pay you for that and i’ll get you one back.”

“my friend dropped me off. i can ask her to come get me.” you say sending a quick text to yuna.

“well have you eaten? let me get you something.” she says.

“i’m okay i’m not hungry.” at least, not for food.

“well.. here’s a water bottle. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay bada. my schedule is open.” you look at the reply from yuna and sigh. “actually could you get the uber? my friend is busy, she won’t be able to come get me for at least an hour or so.. unless you don’t mind me waiting?”

“i don’t mind. i actually wanted to talk to you about chaeyoung.” she says sitting next to you.

“what is it?”

“i’m not too sure what you’re doing but.. she used to be terrible in school, behavior wise, and ever since you came along it’s changed. what are you doing with her? what can i do to make sure she doesn’t act that way once you get your degree and stop working for me?” bada sighs, leaning back on the couch.

“bada,” you turn your body to face her, “the issue with chae is you don’t give her enough attention. i know both you and howl work a lot. it happens. but she tells me all the time how she wishes at least you were here more often. she’s lonely. it’s only her and you stick her with a bunch of strangers. she told me she feels happy when i’m here because even tho i’m leaving, i still make her happy because i’m giving her the attention she craves.”

bada wipes a tear from her cheek, “i try. it’s just hard. i want to be here. then howl took that stupid job traveling to different countries like he doesn’t have a wife and child at home. i feel like i’ve been snapping at her which is why i sent her with her grandmother. i wanted to.. be with my husband and he’s not even here he went to america. i wanted to talk to him about this.”

you pull bada in for a hug and rub her back as she cries into your shoulder. “you’re doing the best you can, bada. you can’t be too hard on yourself. howl should’ve thought about that before he left. he needs to understand you need help.” you say softly.

bada pulls back and looks at you, “you really think i’m doing my best?”

“i do.”

there’s a tension filled silence as you look at each other. you don’t know what fueled you but you lean in and kiss her on her lips before pulling back quickly. “oh shit i’m sorry you’re married-“

she cuts you off with another kiss gripping your shirt. this one is a lot more desperate. “please…” she mumbles against your lips. “i need this please.. please don’t go.” she whines.

“your room.” you say and she stands up pulling you into the bedroom she shared with howl.

she pushes you on the bed and climbs on top of you finding your lips again as your hands trail under her shirt. you pull it off her and she whines.

“relax baby, i’ll make you feel good, just be patient.” you turn her on her back kissing her neck and down to her chest. lifting up her bra you attach to her nipple, sucking gently and she moans. you pinch the other one with your fingers and her hips buck up against you, looking for friction.

“keep your hips down.” you whisper, kissing down her stomach. you leave marks on her hip bones and she moans your name.

“y/n please… please i want you so bad!” she writhes on the bed.

you pull her shorts off and she’s not wearing anything under them. “made this easy for me huh? oh you’re so wet for me bada.” you run a finger over her clit and her leg jerks. you put her leg on your shoulder and make eye contact with her. “can i?”

“please y/n please do- OH!” she moans out when your tongue makes contact with her clit. her hands clutch the sheets as you suck on her clit, sticking two fingers in her.

her breath hitches and she lets out loud moans, “oh my god s-so good! please more!”

you insert another finger curling them up into her spot. she lets out a squeal. “why are you so good at this?” she moans, hands going to your hair as she fucks herself onto your fingers. “i’m cumming!”

you speed up your fingers, flicking your tongue skillfully and she cums with a scream, your name falling off her lips.

you pull your hand out giving her a minute to breathe. “you okay?” you run her lower stomach gently.

“i need… more. please? i have.. have toys in my sock drawer.” she pants.

you walk over to where she points and find a different array of toys. “oh you’re kinky.”

“please use whatever you want. make me your slut. please.” she whines.

you bite your lip, grabbing the dildo, a vibrator, and some handcuffs. “you mind?”

“oh please!” she moves her hands to the headboard, letting you cuff her to it. “i-i can eat you out while you fuck me. you can sit on my face.”

you shiver at the thought before stripping and doing what she wants. her tongue skillfully explores you and you question how she let a man trap her with a tongue like that? you lean forward and put the dildo in her, immediately thrusting it in and out of her while putting the vibrator on her swollen clit. she moans into you and pulls at the cuffs. you’re worried she might be uncomfortable so you lift up but she whines loudly. “i’m not finished!”

you sit back down, thrusting the toy faster and turning up the speed on the vibrator. you let out a moan trying not to grind on her face. you move when she starts to mumble something.

“what did you say baby?”

“use me. use me to get yourself off. make me your personal tuck toy.” she moans out.

you moan as you move back onto her face doing as she asks all while you fuck into her tight count with the dildo. you’re close and you know she’s close from the way her moans get higher. she latches onto your clit sucking roughly as you pound the dildo into her gspot and you’re both cumming with loud moans. you remove the toys and she squirts all over her bed. you get off her and rub her clit, helping her ride out her high.

“okay! okay i’m done i can't…i’m done please!” she moans pulling the cuffs.

“give me one more. let me make sure you’re 100% satisfied. you might not get it this good for a while.” you whisper.

she whimpers and cums one last time, her juices flow out of her and you caress her thigh gently.

“so good for me bada. did such a good job.” you uncuff her and she pulls you in for a kiss. you can taste yourself on her tongue.

“thank you.” she whispers. “i needed that. god i needed that.. tell your friend nevermind. stay with me.”

“what about your husband? and chae?” you ask.

“he’s gone for a week, chae will be back tomorrow night. after i take a nap i want to go again.” she groans, turning on her side.

grabbing your phone, you tell yuna to just bring your backpack that has your strap instead and you lay down next to bada. she immediately moves her head onto your chest and sighs, falling asleep.

that was a lot easier than you thought it would be.

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee x reader #swf2 x reader #swf2 #squidnotes

485 notes · View notes

sourrpatched · 2 months ago

Text

𓉸ྀི l.mk LIKE A VIRGIN (TEASER)

Release Date > October 12th READ HERE!

Sypnosis > As the fifth year anniversary of what the public coined the ‘Vestal Murders’ approaches, strange occurrences begin to happen. Leaving the public frightened there may be a copycat killer on the loose, and you worried that he might be there to finish the job.

Warnings > deaths (hello), swearing, drugs (weed) and alcohol, college frat parties, sex (it’s kinktober), & more

Word Count > estimated 10-15k

A/N > This is so obviously one of my first longer written fics i’ve ever made, so the writing probably won’t be that great. This is also loosely based in the late 90s if there are any inconsistencies I apologize! :)

Preview Word Count > 777 words

Taglist > comment or send an ask!

You walk through your front door, sliding the locks on instantly. Your shoulders drop, the stress leaving your body. Walking home alone was what you did regularly, only this time it felt different. It felt like someone was accompanying you. Even if it was only you that was walking your regular route home.

The fifteen minutes felt longer than usual but that could’ve rang true since you stopped a few times to look around swearing you could feel eyes on you. That’s why as soon as you got home you turned on all of the lights in your home.

Stupid Yuta. He was always saying something to put you on edge.

You turn on the TV and are shocked to find that the news is still on.

“Due to a power outage the following locations have been completely wiped out and won’t be repaired until November first.“

The list of cities and towns comes up. Melody, Lucville, Graze town , and 0 mile.

Lucville. That couldn’t be right, you had power right now. The phone rings loudly from the kitchen, pulling you from your thoughts. You get up to check, walking to the counter and pulling the phone to your ear.

“Hell–”

“Did you hear??? The campus closed down cause of some weird power thing, it’s not coming back til November.” Yuqi’s voice cuts yours off.

“I did yeah but that doesn’t make any sense,” You object, “my power’s working.”

“Yeah it’s only effecting places like the police stations and schools, some hospitals too. Don’t read too much into it just be happy we have no classes.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“I gotta go now, my bed calls me. I only called to make sure you got home. Minnie told me you left alone.”

“The bed or the person in it,” You hear her squeak like she’d been caught. “Don’t forget you owe me a clean room.”

“I’ll get to it tomorrow, promise.”

“Whatever.” You hang up.

At that moment you hear a knock at the front door. You check the time. 1:40am. Weird, your mom was held up at work and your father was still out of town. You walk over to the front door checking the peep hole and seeing nothing.

That’s strange.

You unlock the door and open it, looking around the area. It was just an empty street, not a single light was on from any house. You close the door guessing it could’ve been from the TV, when the phone rings again.

You walk over to the kitchen grabbing the phone. “Hello?”

You’re met with silence.

You scoff, “Yuta? If this is your idea of a prank you should really move on. Everyone’s seen Scream by now.” You hang up.

Even though you were very sure it was just Yuta who was prank calling, you can’t help but feel a shiver run down your spine. You reach up over the counter opening the cabinet to grab a glass when the phone rings again.

You jump, the glass dropping from your finger tips and crashing into the ground. You groan, carefully crossing the glass without stepping in it and reaching for the phone.

“Yuta I swear to god the next time I see you, you better have a jockstrap on!” You shout before being cut off.

“Woah y/n are you okay?”

You sigh in relief. “Mark?”

“Yeah, I was calling to make sure you got home safe. Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, just got a bit spooked with a call earlier.”

“I’m guessing Yuta?”

“Ding Ding Ding. Guess i’m victim to his little halloween pranks.”

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

“Don’t bother, I can handle him.”

“I’m sure you can,” He chuckles, “Jockstrap?”

“It’s a clear warning in case he does want kids in the future.”

You can hear his smile through the phone, it helps ease your mind. “Assuming he doesn’t already have some running around?”

You let out a chuckle. “You’re right. He’ll be fine without any more.”

The laugh he lets out is contagious. “I gotta clean up a bit here, i’m glad you called though.” You meant it.

“Of course, wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. Who else would keep the guys in check?”

You can’t help the blush that fills your cheeks. “Bye, Mark.”

“I’ll see you later y/n.” The call ends.

You quickly clean up the mess before heading back into your brother’s old room to sleep. It was completely empty save for the TV left on a counter and a loan poster of Madonna on the wall.

You turn off the lights hoping to god you will make tomorrow’s morning shift at the diner.

#mark x reader #mark lee #mark x y/n #mark x you #mark smut #mark fluff #nct dream x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream x female reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #kinktober #aggnm #nct dream imagines #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct scenarios

135 notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year ago

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 4) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 3.5k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Jake tries to talk to you, if only your family would stop getting in the way.

Series Master List

Master List

One Hour Earlier

Jake closed the door to his truck and walked up to Coyote and Phoenix’s house. They bought it during the preparations for the wedding, which definitely added to their stress level at the time, but it was nice to come home to a house that was all theirs after their honeymoon. And now Jake was reporting for painting duty. He let himself in through the side door and spotted Javy in the kitchen, putting away some random things.

“Where’s Phoenix?” Jake asked, setting his keys and wallet on the countertop.

“She went to her parent’s house for the weekend to grab some stuff and help out a bit.”

“And you promised to get a whole bunch of shit done while she was gone?” Jake guessed, gesturing to the empty boxes and random tools and materials all over the place.

“And you’re going to help me with all of that shit,” Javy replied, patting Jake on the arm. “Come on, let’s start painting.”

They walked into the spare bedroom and started cleaning out all of the shit that was shoved in there. Setting up the sheets on the ground, Javy glanced over at where Jake was pouring the paint into the tray.

“So, what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much,” Jake replied, turning back to the wall. “Just the same old shit.”

Javy nodded and stood up, fixing Jake with a knowing gaze. Javy and Jake had been best friends since the Academy and Javy liked to think that he knew Jake more than well enough to know when something was up with him. Good or bad. And Javy was very much aware that Jake wasn’t himself.

“How’s everything going with your relationship?”

“It’s over,” Jake replied simply. “And it wasn’t even a relationship.”

“What happened?”

Jake shot Javy a look, but Javy shot him one right back. Jake could play the whole nonchalant bullshit with everyone else, but Javy would call him out on it when he felt it was needed. And after seeing the change in Jake’s demeanor after whatever he wanted to call your relationship ended, Javy knew that he needed to call him out.

Jake picked up a roller and started to paint the wall in straight, even lines. Javy did the same, though he was still feeling out Jake at that moment. He usually just had to give Jake a little bit of time to think over it on his own before following up.

“And you’re okay?”

“No, but nothing I can do about it now,” Jake replied, a bit tensely.

“Did she block you?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jake mumbled, running the roller through the paint again. “She’s been reaching out to me, but I haven’t responded.”

“Because?” Javy stressed, earning a sigh from Jake in return.

“Because what’s the point? It was never going to go public. She’d never stand up to her family about it. And we just didn’t work anymore.”

“Didn’t work with what?”

“We weren’t on the same page.”

“About?”

“For fuck‘s sake, Javy.” Jake set down the paint roller and turned to Javy, who remained calm and eyed Jake with a knowing expression. “She was acting weird before the wedding and at the reception she just blew me off, so what was even the point of all of it? It was just a waste of time for both of us.”

“Or did she hurt your feelings and you wanted to push her away to protect yourself?” Javy asked, setting down his own paint roller.

“You’re not my therapist, Javy,” Jake muttered, looking away from his best friend.

“I know I’m not. But I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you made the right choice when you look as miserable as you do.” Jake sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, causing Javy to soften a bit. “Jake, you were really happy when you were with her. And maybe you two grew apart and maybe you want different things in life and maybe I should just mind my own business. But just talk to her. At least figure out why she was avoiding you in the first place.”

“It was probably something with her brother or Mav,” Jake huffed, picking his head up more. “Or, hey, maybe she found a new fuckbuddy.”

“You don’t know any of that. And she’s not the type to play shit like that and you know it, Jake.” Coyote paused for a moment before adding, “Hell, maybe it was something with work or she’s dealing with some other issue and she wanted to figure it out first before telling you about it.”

“I just don’t know what would cause such a sudden change in her. I mean one minute she was fine and the next she just shut down.”

“You know how you’re going to find out?”

“How?”

“Talk to her,” Javy emphasized.

“I liked you better before you got together with Phoenix,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re acting all wise now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Javy muttered, waving Jake off. “Now, be an adult and go talk to her. And, hey, maybe in a year, I’ll be your best man at your wedding.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jake sighed, getting to his feet. “And I’m holding you to it, Javy. If it’s a shitshow, you told me to start shit.”

“Get out already.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

Jake grabbed his keys and wallet and headed down to his truck. Sliding in, Jake thought about how to proceed before just deciding to drive over to your apartment. If the two of you were actually going to have the conversation, he wanted it to be in person. And well she was also a little worried he would lose his confidence if he gave it too long to linger.

Parking in the lot, Jake spotted your car and made his way up the stairs to your apartment. He, however, didn’t recognize Emma’s car parked in the lot too. Stopping in front of your door, Jake knocked lightly and took a step back. He knew that you had a viewport and could see that it was him. Whether or not you opened the door was your choice.

The door opened a few moments later and Jake was rather quietly surprised at how shocked you looked when you spotted him. Why hadn’t you looked through the viewport before answering the door like you always did?

“Jake,” you breathed out nervously.

“Hey,” he replied softly, unable to prevent himself from frowning a bit at your reaction.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk about . . . everything.” Jake paused, mulling over his words before asking, “Is this a bad time?”

“Um. . . yeah, kind of,” you responded, wincing. “My brother’s here. And Mav is on his way over here right now.”

Jake’s eyes widened a fraction but before the curse could slip from between his lips, Rooster walked around the corner.

“What’s taking so long, old—Hangman?” Bradley corrected himself, very openly frowning when he spotted his teammate in the hall. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, he’s just here to pick something up,” you lied, turning to face your brother.

“Pick up what?”

“Uh, his . . . sweatshirt,” you decided, gesturing for Jake to come inside. “He let me borrow it at the beach when Coyote and Phoenix had their thing and it got cold.”

“And he just dropped by?” Bradley asked, staring after you as you hurried to your bedroom to grab it before shooting Jake a look. “Without your permission?”

“I told him that I was going to be here,” you snapped back defensively. “It’ll be two seconds. Calm your tits.”

Hurrying into your room, you started to dig around your closet for Jake’s sweatshirt that he gave you several months ago right before he went on deployment. You wore it on multiple occasions and by now Jake’s scent had long ago disappeared from the fabric. Meanwhile, out in your living room, Jake and Bradley were in the middle of a staring contest.

“So, you were just in the neighborhood?” Rooster asked suspiciously.

“I do live in this town too, Rooster,” Jake reminded him, causing Rooster to narrow his eyes a bit.

“So,” Emma cut in, trying to control the tension, “how have you been, Hangman?”

“Peachy.”

“Here you go, Jake,” you called, hurrying over and shoving the sweatshirt into his hands before urging him towards the door. “Well, thanks for giving it to me. For that day.”

When you were only two steps away from the door, there was a sharp knock. Cursing under your breath, you glanced at Jake to see that he looked like he was readily planning to climb out the window, before turning to the door. Letting out a breath, you opened the door to reveal Maverick and Penny standing there.

“Hey, Mav, Penny,” you greeted them, trying to act normally.

“Hangman?” Maverick asked, confused.

“Maverick,” Jake returned, his face impassive though he was sweating nervously.

“He was just grabbing something,” you cut in, talking just a little too fast. Maverick looked over at you, raising his eyebrow just a bit. “And he’s leaving right now. So, uh, bye Hangman.”

“Yeah, uh, see you around.”

Jake moved past you and he was about to walk past Maverick when the older aviator stopped him from his escape.

“Where are you going, Hangman?”

“Just heading home, that’s all,” Jake stated, turning to Maverick. Scrunching up the sweatshirt you gave him, he held it up. “I’ve got some laundry to do.”

“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Maverick offered, causing you to shake your head slightly. “And cake too, if you want. You saved my life, so it’s the least I can offer you.”

“I think he said he already has plans, Mav,” you tried to butt in.

“I’m sure the laundry can wait,” Maverick insisted kindly, though with an edge of force.

Jake shot you a slightly nervous look, to which you tried to discreetly shake your head. Penny seemed to be eyeing the exchange curiously, though you knew she sensed Maverick’s tone. You sent Jake a look to get out while he could. But then bigmouth Bradley came around the corner and decided to butt in.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can find something to talk about,” Bradley stated, leaning on the wall with his arms folded in front of him.

And Jake, sensing his rapidly approaching defeat, started to surrender.

“I don’t want to intrude—”

“—You're not,” Maverick interjected before gesturing inside your apartment. “Come on, I’m sure the food’s getting cold.”

You stood stone faced by the door as Bradley, Maverick, and Penny walked further into your apartment. Sharing a defeated look with Jake, who pulled up the rear, you shut the door and tried to calm yourself down before you turned on your heel and headed towards the table.

You found yourself sitting with Maverick on your right at the head of the table, Jake to your left looking uncomfortable as hell, and Bradley across from you with a sharp glare directed at Jake. You shared a look with Emma, who returned an apologetic grimace. Staring at the glass of wine in front of you, you simply ducked your head and stared at your plate.

“So, what caused the sudden change in location?” Maverick asked curiously.

“There was a minor problem at your place,” you replied, staring down at your plate.

“We set the oven on fire,” Bradley filled in, causing you to kick him under the table. Bradley shot you a look before turning to Maverick. “And then she threw up again and we just decided to get out of there.”

Again?

Jake glanced over at you from the corner of his eye, concern clear in his gaze. You didn’t look severely ill. Maybe a bit flushed, but not ill. So what caused you to throw up so often? And how did you just seem to bounce back if you were so sick and throwing up?

“How did the fire happen?” Maverick asked calmly, used to the back and forth between you and Bradley.

“I accidentally set the timer for too long,” Emma cut in, trying to take some heat off of you. “I walked off and it boiled over and burned.”

“Not a problem. That oven was ancient anyways,” Maverick dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I barely used it as it was.”

The family conversation continued on with an occasional pointed comment directed at Jake from Bradley, but it wasn’t too much. You seemed to be well-versed in how to deflect your brother’s questions and comments. It almost made Jake wonder why you were so cautious about him being anywhere near Rooster or Maverick with him.

“Anyone want a refill?” Penny offered, getting up from her seat.

There were a few mumbles around the table, but when Jake glanced over at your wine glass, he was a bit more than just surprised that it looked like you hadn’t touched it. Not that you had to drink the wine. But why didn’t you?

“So, Hangman,” Rooster cut in, causing Jake to turn away from you, “did you spend a lot of time together? Planning Coyote and Phoenix’s wedding and all, I mean?”

“Yeah, so what?” you snapped in Jake’s defense. “I spent a lot of time with Emma’s brother for your wedding, Bradley.”

“It was just a question,” Bradley scoffed in return.

“This is a great meal, Emma,” Penny announced louder than she needed to speak. “What restaurant did you get it from?”

“Ferrucci's down the road from here,” Emma answered, talking loud as well. “It’s really good. We should go there more often.”

“How was the wedding in your end, Hangman?” Maverick continued, getting the conversation back on track despite Emma and Penny’s attempt. “I feel like you were quite busy.”

“Yeah, I was,” Jake replied honestly.

“We didn’t see you at the after party,” Bradley added, earning a nudge from his wife.

“I was feeling under the weather. Just tired from everything,” Jake stated, staring down Bradley, not at all afraid of him.

He was slightly terrified of Maverick. But Bradley? Not even a little bit.

“Funny. That’s exactly what someone else said that night,” Bradley replied, turning to look at you. To which, you narrowed your eyes and shot your brother a warning look back. “What a weird coincidence.”

“Bradley,” you hissed, placing your hands on the table, “if you want to ask a question, just ask it. Stop being weird about it.”

“Should we cut the cake?” Emma interjected, trying to prevent a fight.

“I think we should,” Penny agreed, getting up from her seat. She called your name, causing you to look away from Bradley. “You made the cake, so you get to set up the candles and everything. Come on.”

With one last look over at your brother, you got up from your seat and walked into the kitchen with Penny and Emma. And that left Jake at the mercy of both Bradley and Maverick. Once the three of you were out of earshot, Bradley turned to Jake with a dark look.

“Are you messing around with my sister, Bagman? Because I swear to—”

“—I’m not,” Jake muttered, glaring over at Rooster. Anymore, at least. “Is that good enough of an answer for you?”

Rooster glared right back at Jake, practically screaming that no, it wasn’t good enough for him. Even though they had come a long way since the mission, it was near impossible to just get rid of years of resentment and tension in a moment. And anyone who knew Rooster well enough knew that messing around with his little sister was a sure fire way to be at high risk for getting a fist to the face.

“Bradley,” Maverick cut in, causing Jake and Bradley to turn to him, “drop it. Your sister is old enough to take care of herself.”

Maverick and Bradley had their own staring contest for a moment until Jake excused himself from the table, needing to cool down for a second. Walking down the hall and into the bathroom, Jake shut the door and let out a breath. Running a hand down his face, he sat on the toilet cover and stared at his hands.

“What the fuck did you get yourself into, Jake?” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re a real big fucking idiot, you know that?”

Sighing again, Jake got to his feet and turned to walk out of the bathroom when he accidentally kicked the small trash can over. Cursing under his breath, Jake kneeled down and hurried to clean up the mess. Picking up a plastic wrapper, Jake was about to toss it back into the trash when he caught some of the text on it. Frowning, Jake smoothed out the wrapper to read it.

And he nearly passed out when he read the plastic cover.

Prenatal Vitamins

Well, that sealed the deal. Especially when he thought about Rooster’s comment about how you were throwing up all the time lately. And then he remembered the full wine glass in front of you at dinner. And well, three coincidences didn’t seem that likely. And he couldn’t exactly say that the two of you were extremely careful every time with any sort of conviction.

Jake sat there and just stared at the plastic wrap, his whole world just exploding in front of him.

Meanwhile, out in the kitchen and slightly hidden behind a half wall, you were holding your hands to your face, trying to remain calm while Emma placed the candles on the cake and Penny gave you a supportive squeeze.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Penny whispered to you, urging Emma to hurry up with the candles. “We’re just going to eat cake and Jake will leave and it’ll all be fine.”

“Why the fuck is he here? Of all fucking days,” you cursed, letting out a breath. “And I’m going to fucking kill my brother if he keeps asking stupid questions.”

“Just hold onto those thoughts for now. Focus on getting through this dinner, okay?” Penny coached you, giving you another squeeze. “You’ll be fine. You will get through this. But it is a good reminder about some conversations that you need to have, okay?”

“I know, it’s just,” you sighed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you, “they’re all going to freak out. I know it.”

“You can’t control them. Only you. And you are holding way too much on your shoulders right now. You need to tell them. Or at least one of them,” Penny whispered, causing you to nod in return.

“I know. I’m already starting to show,” you mumbled, resting a hand on your abdomen. Letting out another breath, you turned back to Penny, “Let’s just get this party over with.”

You, Emma, and Penny walked out of the kitchen with the cake and candles all set up. Singing the birthday tune for Maverick, you sat back down in your seat. You were a bit surprised that Jake wasn’t there but he seemed to slowly make his way out of the bathroom and back to the table as the song wrapped up. You laughed and clapped with everyone else as Maverick blew out the candles, though you felt Jake’s gaze burn into your back.

“Thank you, thank you,” Maverick chuckled, waving the smoke away. “We’ll, what are we waiting for? Let’s eat cake.”

“I should go,” Jake suddenly spoke, causing everyone to turn to him. He seemed to stumble over his words for a moment before adding, “Coyote texted me. I guess there’s some problem at the house.”

“Well, we don’t want to keep you if you need to go,” Penny stated, knowing that it was best to reduce the tension in the air.

Jake bid his awkward goodbyes, almost acting like he was a puppet being controlled by some higher power before he left. He didn’t or couldn’t look you in the eye about it. Feeling a bit taken aback by his sudden change, you whipped around to shoot Bradley a death glare.

“What the hell did you say to him?” you demanded, causing Bradley to scoff.

“Nothing. Why do you even care anyways?”

“It’s my apartment. If you want to pick fights with people, do it at your place, not mine,” you deflected, causing Bradley to roll his eyes.

“Don’t mess around with him. I’m serious,” your brother warned you.

“And we’re cutting the cake!” Emma interjected, walking over with small plates.

The conversation was effectively over for now, but you still couldn’t help but let your mind wander. What the hell did Bradley say to Jake to freak him out like that?

Tags (PRETTY PLEASE have your AGE on your blog or message me about it to be tagged--thank you!):

[If I missed you, don’t feel bad about asking to be tagged again! But please make sure that your age is in your bio/comment/etc. Thanks!]

@mrsjobarnes @wishiwasacasualfan @bethabear12 @everythingmarveltopgun @hardballoonlove @mavrellover91 @fangirlvoice @senjoritanana @sophslastbraincell @xoxabbs88xox @emma8895eb @dempy @harperdoodle @itsmytimetoodream @sarahjoestewy-blog @the-annoying-fan @athenabarnes @midnightmagpiemama @praline357 @sucker4seresin @sunsetsimpsblog @sgt-barnesveins @abaker74 @shanimallina87 @mayhemmanaged @kellyIs04 @trickphotography2 @kmc1989 @boiolay @offical-potato @topgun-imagines @caitsymichelle13 @daddymack01 @hangmandruigandmav @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @lilylilyyyyyy @lillunna @bcon24 @sky0401 @ashcosmo @blackwidownat2814 @specialagentjackbauer

552 notes · View notes