#I think this looked cooler in my head but I’m still happy with it
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future-of-freedom · 3 days ago
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Tumblr wormhole shenanigan's!
The Neo Diamond Cutters are returning home from a successful mission when suddenly the Diamond Cutters from All Together Now (complete with Bean and Bark) appear in front of them!
How does either team react to their new imposters?!
(this is gonna be long, bear with me)
“Oh, wonderful. This is becoming a theme…” Ashley grumbled.
“So, uh, care to explain why there’s TWO TANGLES AND WHISPERS?!” Bean shrieked, shaking Ashley by the shoulders.
“Relax, dude. Something to do with a wormhole, I guess. It’s not the first time it happened in our world,” the leopard explained. “One time I came across this freaky looking shrike that sounded like static.”
Bark shivered, while Bean winced. “Sounds terrifying…”
“It was. But it blipped back into its world shortly after, so the same thing should happen with you guys, too. But while you’re still here… how’d you get in the Neos?”
Bean and Bark just looked at her, confused.
“Neo Diamond Cutters? Are you not called that in your world?”
Bark shook his head.
“Gotta admit, that sounds a lot cooler…” the bird mumbled. “But Tangle and Whisper took us in, even after realizing we were criminals! It’s been smooth sailin’ ever since! The boss lady’s kind of a downer, though…”
“Eh, in her defense, you gotta have someone to keep things in check…” the leopard chuckled. “Whisper was actually the one who offered me a spot on their team. I was kinda shocked, considering I kept accusing her of ki-“
She stopped. Whoops. She was saying too much.
Bark sat in front of Ashley, curious.
“…accused her offff…?” Bean asked.
Ashley shook her head and pat Bean’s head.
“…it’s a more personal thing on Whisper’s side. Don’t press the one for your world about it, though, alright? She’ll tell you if, or when she thinks it’s the right time.”
Bean happily leaned into Ashley’s robotic hand.
“Gotcha,” Bean answered, while Bark gave her a thumbs up.
-
“Mimic gave you that scar?!” ATN!Tangle gasped.
“Yeah… it’s all good though! He’s been locked up ever since! My face healed up nicely after a couple days, and now I’m living well in a nice home with Whisp!” FOF!Tangle answered. “Can the same be said for you?”
“Pretty much! Although there have been some hiccups. We got through ‘em though, and now we’re sharin’ a house with Bean and Bark!” ATN!Tangle said.
“Woah, with those guys?” FOF!Tangle laughed a little. “That must be fun.”
“Trust me, it’s not as bad as you think. And it’s nice to have a living space that I can call mine after… um…”
ATN!Tangle trailed off a bit.
“You good?” FOF!Tangle asked, concerned.
“Well… sorry, I was thinking about some familial issues. I don’t wanna be a downer-“
“Hey.” FOF!Tangle put a hand on her counterpart’s shoulder. “You’re not gonna be here forever. If you need someone to talk to about that, I’m happy to hear it.”
ATN!Tangle smiled softly and wiped her nose.
“…thank you.”
-
“Nice to see I’m eating well in this world, too,” ATN!Whisper said happily.
FOF!Whisper gave her an appreciative nod. “Have you… also gotten insecure about it?”
“Oh, absolutely. ‘Course, I was told it was okay. Just shows that I’ve been a lot happier as of late.”
“That’s goes for both of us, then,” FOF!Whisper responded, giving her counterpart a thumbs up. “Well, while you’re still here, I must ask… have you used your wisps’ powers on yourself?”
ATN!Whisper cocked her head to the side.
“Y’know, kinda like Sonic has…”
“…I can do that?”
“Possibly, if you’re able to train yourself. I haven’t perfected all their powers yet, but that’s only part of the process.” FOF!Whisper explained. “Can give you tips if you’d like.”
“Won’t be necessary,” ATN!Whisper declined. “I’d rather not mess with their powers like that.”
She smirked. “I’ll keep what you said in mind though.”
-
Both Lanolins were leaning against the wall all nonchalant, both holding cups of coffee.
“So… you also hate your mom?” FOF!Lanolin asked.
“Mhm.”
“Always got worked shoved in your face?”
“Yup.”
“But you have friends that make it somewhat worth it?”
“Correctamundo.”
They looked at each other, and clinked their glasses together.
“Livin’ like Lanny,” they both said at the same time, sipping their mugs.
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ladylooch · 2 days ago
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Bones - Part 12 [ Mack x David]
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A/N: This is completely unplanned... but there is a birthday celebration in here for David! On our real life Inspo, Jake's birthday! I love when things shake out this way.
Anyways, happy birthday to Jake. And to Davey. And enjoy a lil slice of heaven with our two love birds.
Word Count: 4.5k
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October
Fall in New York is magical. Not as magical as the holiday season, but still gorgeous none the less. The weather finally gets cooler. The leaves begin to burst in gorgeous colors of orange, yellow and red. Then right around the corner, hockey season begins. Hockey has ruled Mack’s life in one way or another since before she was born. She wasn’t old enough to be resentful of that like Lucie by the time her dad retired, but there is something about being in this club of Rangers WAGs that has Mack excited for the upcoming season. 
She loves getting to spend so much time with her sister and her nieces. After everything that happened this summer with Tommy, Mack has really craved being around her family. She loves their spirit and protectiveness. But also the way they’ve rallied around David to support him through this difficult loss. 
Yes, there are many things about the fall and hockey season beginning that she loves. But there is still one thing she hates: 
Having to go back to sharing her husband. 
Mack hates the reality of hockey season and how many days apart the two of them will spend. Mack wants to pretend that she has found a balance in her fourth hockey season as a WAG but that would be complete bullshit. She still struggles with what to say yes versus what not to. She still yearns for David whether she is on assignment and he is gone or home. But she does think she is getting better at it.
Especially when her husband treats her to nights like this. Back where it all started in a place with checkered table clothes and outstanding pizza. They recently added a to die for tiramisu to the menu that has no business being in a place as small and hidden as theirs. But it’s there. Delectable and mouth watering, just like the man who holds her left hand. 
The two of them are walking in content silence back to their place. David holds their leftover pizza in his other hand. They’re dressed in dark jeans and sweaters. Mack has brown, high heeled boots on that slap the sidewalk with each step. David has on his own brown boots, worn and loved, with thick tan soles. 
“What time does everything start tomorrow?” Mack asks as they turn the corner onto their street.
“I’ve gotta be there by 9. But Woody and I want to go early to hit the weight room.” Mack gives him a look. He shrugs. “It’s tradition.” 
“You two are like an old married couple. Can’t do anything without the other.”
“I love that man.” 
“That’s why you actually married me, right? So you could be related in some way.”
“You caught me.” He nods solemnly before his face breaks out into a smirk. “You know why I married you.”
“Why?” Mack asks innocently. 
“For that wet, ass pu-“ 
“David.” Mack slaps her hand over this mouth, shrieking.
He grabs her hand, pulling it away, and then yells out: “Pussy!”
“Oh my god.” Mack widens her eyes at the people who turn to look.
“This is New York. They’ve heard worse.” David assures her. His arm goes around her shoulders, pulling her into the side of him so he can kiss her head. Mack sighs, closing her eyes and trying to memorize this feeling for the nights their bed is too lonely without him.
“I’m sad.” She finally admits to him. “I’m trying hard not to be, but I am.” David’s lips shift into a sideways frown. “I already miss you.”
“I know these next few weeks will be tough, honey.” He acknowledges. He pauses as they head up the steps. Philip hands over the door for David, letting him hold it for his wife as always.
“Have a good night.” He salutes them.
“You too!” Mack calls back. 
“Camp always seems so long. Once the season starts, its more normal. Less like, team activities and bonding and class or whatever you guys do.”
David delays his response until the doors shut. Then he puts his hand on her opposite hip, backing her up against the wall. He steps in front of her, cupping her face with his other hand. Mack’s breath disappears from her lungs, eyelashes fluttering as he hovers over her lips.
“I’ll make you forget about all that tonight.” His lips brush hers, but refuse to stay there long. Mack’s eyes screw shut as he kisses down her throat, then sucks the sensitive skin at the crook of her neck. She turns her face into his, fingers collapsing into his hair as he forces her legs apart with his thigh. 
By the time the elevator stops at their floor, Mack buzzes everywhere. Her nipples poke against the lining of her bra. Her panties are soaked through from grinding her crotch on top of his thigh. David pulls her out and down to their apartment in record speed. He fumbles with the keys as Mack reaches around to cup his hard erection. 
“Fuck, baby.” He leans his head back to the ceiling, pausing for a moment. Then he pokes after the key hole with more ferocity. 
When the door opens, David shoves Mack inside unceremoniously. The door slams behind them, then David backs Mack up to the wall quickly. Mack reaches behind her, feeling for the entry way table as he locks their lips back together. David grinds his hard zipper into hers. It’s not enough for him though. He hooks her leg around his waist then slams her back harder into the table. Mack’s breath stutters as his bulge brushes her clit. Her head falls back, hitting the mirror above the table.
A daze falls over Mack as her husband pulls away. He works open the buttons of her Levi’s, then his big hands slide around to grip her bare ass. 
“Fucking need you, honey.” He growls. 
Once his hands get her jeans off her feet, he picks her up with one arm around her waist. The other blindly tries to move stuff off the table so he can set her on top. Mack reaches back with him too. Their lips stay connected as things clatter to floor. Then Mack is on top. David spreads her legs wide before dipping his face down to her pussy, taking a long, hard swipe with his tongue. A gurgled moan gets stuck in Mack’s throat. Her hand comes to the back of his hair, keeping him there as she grinds into his face.
“So fucking hot, baby. Keep doing that.” His mustache tickles her clit as his tongue swirls around her wet entrance. Her inner walls collapse around his tongue as he steadily fucks her with it. “So fuckin’ sweet, Mackenzie.” He groans. He gets on his knees in front of her, a look that has Mack melting into his mouth when he puts it back on her. Arms and legs become goo as she hangs on, enjoying the build of his tempo and her orgasm. 
“Ah.” Mack’s blissed out moan spits out of her lips.
“Sounds so beautiful.” He praises her. “So gorgeous when you come on my face. Can you? Please?”
His lips wrap firmly around her clit then he sucks, lapping his tongue along the swollen bud until Mack shakes on the skinny table.
“David!” She yells out when he keeps sucking her through it. “Oh! Oh!” She tenses up, David grips her thighs with both hands to keep them open. Then Mack collapses against the wall and the table. She begins sliding off of it, but David stands, re-adjusting her limp body back onto the skinny wood. 
“Hell yeah. You're a knock out, honey.” He husks at her through gritted teeth.
David makes sure she is steady, before he works on unbuckling his belt. He shoves his jeans down his hips and half his thighs. He strokes his cock in his hand, squeezing the tip and moaning. He keeps stroking, licking his lips and looking at Mack. Everything about it is searing hot. Then Mack works her feet around his hips, pulling him into her.
“You can do that on the road. Right now you have me.” David chuckles, then kisses her as he eases himself inside of her.
David collects her wrists in his hands, then pins them above her head. Her skins smears smudges across the mirror behind her. As David increase his tempo, they get worse. Mack’s legs begin to shake and her body arches into him for more.
“Please.” She begs when he slows down. “Harder.”
David complies. He rails hard into her, shaking the table beneath his force. Mack feels slightly unsteady on the table, gasping in surprise which makes David stop. He steps closer to her, letting her wrists go and wrapping his arms around her waist to stable her. Then he unleashes into her.
“Oh right there! Yeah!” Mack howls out. She should be quieter now that they are back in an apartment building and so close to the door. But she can’t hold back. Not when he strokes her just right. Or how his balls slap up hard into her ass as he drills her down good. Mack comes loudly, curses and his name sliding from her puffy lips as she lets herself go. 
“I’m sure the neighbors don’t miss that when we were at the farm.” David murmurs into her hair as he pauses for a beat. Mack giggles softly in presumed agreement.
His cock gently glides in and out of her as David savors the wetness of her latest orgasm.  Mack hums, uncurling her fingers from his chest to grip his shoulders. With an idea, David pulls her off of him then the table. When her feet hit the wood floor, he pulls her onto the balls of them and nudges his cock into her from behind. One of his hands holds on her breast and the other spreads across her stomach.
Mack’s palms press hard into the entry way table, feeling it groan and sway like she does with each of his hard pumps into her. The wooden legs begin to wiggle harder. Mack moans for more. Then suddenly all she is holding in her hands is air. The table collapses under his vigorous thrusts, shaking the screws loose until they snap away from the wood. David's arms support her in place before her body can fall from its position.
The couple both groans in pleasure, then laughs to each other. Without the unsteadiness of the table, David drills down even harder. His strong arms hold her flush to his hips so her upper body is suspended in the air.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll build you a new one. Keep watching me fuck you in that mirror.” He insists, cupping her chin and turning her face to watch them.
Mack is in awe of what he is doing to her. How he doesn’t stutter or falter his movements. Just catches her body and keeps that pace like a damn machine. He keeps advancing on her, nothing stopping or slowing him down unless its at her request. David hooks her knee through his left arm, then forces her face onto the mirror over the broken furniture. Her cheek smudges join below the ones from her wrists. 
“Tell me who’s you are?” David demands right when she’s about to reach her high.
“Yours! I’m yours, David!” Her hot breath fogs the mirror beneath her red cheek, making everything hotter.
David’s groan is primal this time as her third orgasm tugs and collapses around him, pulling his seed from his swollen cock. With it comes a string of explicatives and greedy praises of her pussy. 
Mack is spent after they are done. A limp noodle in his arms as David smugly pulls her back into him, both feet on the floor. His fingers roll through her wet slit, teasing her stimulated clit until she shivers. Somehow, he still has energy.
“You’re insane.” Mack murmurs as he stands to his full height, almost unaffected by the orgasms he gave both of them. He strokes at her clit again, deliberate about asking for more. Mack grips his wrist and squeezes. She’s already had three. A fourth will have her covering this entry way and she isn’t open to that experience tonight.
“Could never have enough of ya.” He says simply, but respectfully.
He picks her up into his hands by her bare ass. He carries her to the bathroom where he sets her on the counter. He puts her heels on it, then wipes her clean with a wash cloth. Mack loves this part with him. She’s never had a man so diligent about after care and she’s glad this is the one she gets for the rest of her life.
Afterwards, he sets her down in the walk-in closet, then disappears out to the main area. He comes back with a tumbler of water and fresh cut peaches from the farmer’s market, setting them on her side of the bed. Before he goes to clean himself, he pulls back the comforter for her to crawl under into bed. 
Mack is happily snacking when he returns.
“Gonna get peach juice all over this bed like a lil mouse.” Mack grins, then exaggerates sucking up the peach juice into her mouth.
“That was you earlier.” She teases.
“That will be me tomorrow morning too.” Mack giggles, cheeks turning pink. 
“No, you’ll have to leave so early to hit the weights with Connor.” 
“I would never, ever choose weights with Woody over sucking on your sweet puss, honey.”
“Puss?!” Mack shakes her head, choking on a slice of fruit for a moment. “You’re so weird, babe.” She offers him a peach. 
“What’s weird about enjoying eating my wife’s pussy?” He pops the slice into his mouth, chews once then swallows.
“Calling it a puss is weird.”
“Okay I won’t call it a puss. Can I have another peach, owner of my sweet pussy?” He asks her. Mack giggles through his little pussy speech, eyes squeezed shut in pure joy at her funny, loving man. She hands over the bowl to him, signaling she is done.
As he eats the rest, Mack lays back into her pillows. She shuts her eyes for a moment, realizing how tired she really is. Her body goes still, unable to even adjust the covers over her shoulders better. The sound of the bowl resting onto David’s nightstand greets her ears, then she feels her body being pulled into his. The comforter is adjusted exactly where she likes it immediately after he gets her settled into him.
“Night, baby.” David whispers into her hair.
His breath smells like peaches and that’s the last thing Mack remembers before she falls into a well earned sleep.
- - - & - - -
February
“Are we starting? What do we need? We have to finish before Uncle Davey comes home!” Stella exclaims next to her auntie where she scrolls through the webpage on her phone.
“One sec, Stell.” Mack murmurs, looking over the recipe again. 
“He’s gonna see us!” Stella complains.
“Probably.” Mack nods. “We have to mix all this up, bake it, let it cool, then frost it. So yeah, he’s going see the cake before it’s done. Let’s allow that to be okay.” Stella stares at Mack, then rolls her bottom lip into her mouth. “The act of us making the cake is the surprise.” She soothes her niece. 
“Okay.” Stella nods, coming down from her anxious worries. 
“Chocolate?” Winnie asks.
“Uncle Davey prefers vanilla.” Mack reminds Winnie. Again. For the fourth time.
“Oh.” Winnie sighs, becoming a lil humpbacked with disappointment.  “I chocolate cake?”
“No. How about you and Stella go grab me the measuring cups?”
“Okay!” Winnie yells, taking Stella's hand to the cabinet.
Mack reads off the ingredients and baking supplies to the girls as they rush their little legs around the kitchen to grab them. When everything is set out on the counter, the girls begin. Stella gets to crack the eggs because she has more patience than her sister. Then Winnie gets to put together the dry ingredients to be sifted together. The whole ordeal moves along swimmingly except for a few hiccups. It’s all for the girls’ favorite Uncle after all.
Their favorite uncle who would rather stay in New York and watch their nieces then jet away for another Allstar break.
Lucie and Connor headed to Mexico on their own. Savannah and Lio were going to join them, but then decided to head to California to see Liv and Luca instead. Mack and David had thought about joining those two in California, and bringing the Wood girls with them, but ultimately, they both wanted to be home. Mack has traveled to seemingly every continent since the season started. She needs a break and to rejuvenate at her home base.
“Slow…” Mack murmurs to the girls as they work together to pour the batter into the greased cake pan. Mack holds the bowl while the girls scrape yellow spatulas across the surface. 
“Wait! This has peanuts in it!” Stella suddenly exclaims.
“No.” Mack assures her. Sometimes Stella gets confused with almonds and peanuts. “There is almond extract in it. You can have that.”
“Oh yeah.” She nods then brings the spatula up to her lips. She snickers as she takes a big lick across it with her tongue. Winnie watches, then imitates her older sister.
“Stinkers.” Mack chuckles.
Mack takes the bowl over to the sink and begins to rinse it off. She glances at the oven and sees it is ready to go at the correct temperature. Then the front door opens. The two Wood girls clatter off their step stools and run over to their uncle, dashing to wrap his legs up with their little arms.
“Whoa!” He exclaims, pretending to almost fall over.
This is good. David being back will keep the girls away from the oven while she puts the cake in. Stella would be fine, but Mack doesn’t entirely trust Winnie to not try to crawl on top of the open door. With that in mind, Mack makes quick work of tucking the cake in. When she turns, she laughs at David sliding across the floor with a child on each leg.
“Leg day got to me. So heavy.” He complains to her. The girls burst into giggles.
“It’s us! It’s us!” Stella cheers.
“Cake!” Winnie yells, running over and slapping her hands on the glass door of the oven.
“Win, that’s hot. Please don’t touch.” Mack reminds her. Winnie gasps, then pulls her hands back in a worried hurry.
“Ow!?”
“Let me see.” David murmurs, coming behind her. He crouches down, enclosing her in his arms to take a look. Winnie leans back into the safety of his chest, then gives her palms to him. “Should I kiss 'em?”
“Ya.” Winnie nods seriously, blue eyes big with tenderness. Mack closes her eyes, chuckling as David smooches across her completely fine hands.
“How is that?”
“Good.” Winnie nods, then she runs off into the living room. Stella has disappeared down the hall, probably flipping through the new book her and David picked up yesterday called “History of Bridges.” She has become completely fascinated with architecture, roads, bridges, and other structural landmarks. 
“Hi.” David wraps an around around Mack’s waist. She gets on her tip toes, kissing him in greeting. “What’s that?”
“A cake. For a certain birthday boy.”
“It’s my birthday?” He asks, feigning surprise.
“Yeah, another year older.” Mack pats his chest. 
“Another year full of loving you.”
“Nice. Way to make me look like an asshole.”
“That’s why you married me.” He chuckles.
Mack knocks her knuckles jokingly into his chin. He exaggerates like she punched him then spins and dips her in the kitchen. Mack laughs into their kiss, tilting her head back to look at Winnie who drops a slobbery kiss on her forehead.
“Oh thank you.” She sighs happily at her niece. “Should we watch some TV?” Mack asks Winnie.
“Yeah!” She cheers, jumping into the air with her fist high like Super Mario. She scuttles around the island with David chasing her then flies onto the couch. Mack follows after checking in on Stella, who wants to stay in her room rather than watch the movie.
The three of them snuggle up on the couch. Winnie is on one side of David and Mack on the other. By the time the final credits roll, Winnie is sprawled across David’s entire body, taking up as much residency as she can on him. The cake is almost completely cooled, so Mack calls Stella back out to the main area. David disappears to his and Mack’s place, so the girls can decorate without him peeking.
Stella and Winnie are each given a side of the cake to decorate to keep things as fair as possible. Mack pipes out the words, ‘Happy 60th Birthday, David!’ snickering the entire time. Then she steps back and lets the girls go at it. Winnie completely covers her side in huge piles of sprinkles. Literally piles like leaves in the fall. When Mack suggests she smooth them out, Winnie simply said “No.”
Stella took a more meticulous approach, pressing in mostly blue and red candy beads in a clear pattern. Mack grabs the candles, then gives David a call to come back to the Wood apartment. He pops in, smiling at the girls sitting on the counter, beaming at him.
He comes to the other side of the counter, soaking the girls in as they enthusiastically sing him happy birthday. He looks down at the cake, mouth dropping open in shock when he sees the number 60. He swipes a big finger across the frosting, then wipes it on Mack’s cheek.
“Funny.” He says as Mack laughs so hard tears form in her eyes. David isn’t mad at all. He lets her recover them licks the frosting off her face for her. “Now it’s my favorite flavor.”
“Ew.” Stella mutters. “That’s gross.” 
“Wish!” Winnie yells, eyes wide at the amount of sugar just before her finger tips.
“Hmmmmm.” David contemplates, bringing Mack into his arms. He looks over at her, smiling, then he kisses her tenderly. “Help me girls?”
Winnie and Stella oblige, so the four of them blow his candles out with him.
“I hope you all made wishes!” He exclaims as Mack heads across the kitchen to grab plates. The girls are impatiently patient as she cuts out four slices. They all head to the dining room table to eat. David raves about the cake and the girls beam excitedly, nodding along with his praise. The second the girls are done, they run around the living room together playing. 
“What did you wish for?” Mack asks as her and David hold each other in the kitchen after cleaning up.
“More birthdays like this.”
Mack loves that and agrees.
This birthday has been different than the other ones they have shared. The previous ones were either adult oriented activities or a full out fuck fest. It’s been nice to celebrate her man in a way that aligns more with who he is: soft, full of love, and cozy. Although Mack is still down for the fuck fest if he’s willing to risk it for the biscuit. 
The group orders pizza for dinner, then David opens all of his presents with both Winnie and Stella in his lap. They do more of the opening, but every time it’s not a toy, the girls are bummed. After, it’s time for the girls to get to sleep. Mack and David split bed time. She goes with Stella and he helps Winnie. Stella doesn’t need much help these days, so it’s really just a tuck in and a goodnight. As she is walking back to the living room, Mack laughs at Winnie’s head getting stuck in her pajama shirt.
“Win, ya gotta stop moving.” David chuckles, trying to get her to stand still for a second. She stops moving then stumbles head first into David’s chin. “Ow.” He murmurs, chuckling at Mack in the doorway.
“I sorry.” Winnie pats his chin softly.
“It’s okay.” He assures her. 
Winnie takes his hand as he stands, leading her over to her bed. She wiggles under the covers including her arms then begins to giggle as David forces the comforter under her body.
“Win ‘itto!” She yells. A Winnie burrito - her favorite part of the night.
David and Mack both laugh. 
“Goodnight.” Mack says first, smoothing Winnie's hair back.
“Bye.” Winnie calls, a little yawn stretching her mouth. 
“Goodnight, bug.” David murmurs. 
Then together, him and Mack head out to the living room. 
“I’m tired.” Mack says through a yawn.
“Yeah, me too.”
They both look at the clock, deciding it’s too early to really try to go to bed. Instead, David grabs them both a glass of red wine and they put on an adult focused show. They get interrupted about an hour later by a crying Winnie. She launches towards David on the couch, gripping at his shirt to keep herself as close as possible to him.
“It’s okay. You’re safe, Win.” He murmurs quietly, rubbing her back. She shivers in his arms. David wraps a blanket around her then clasps his hands around her back. “You can lay here with us for a bit.” He soothes her. She nods.
Within ten minutes, she’s out as hot puffs of air hit David’s neck. It’s not long before David is falling asleep too. His head falls back to the couch cushion, mouth open with soft snores. Mack smiles, running her hand through his hair after the movie finishes. On instinct, he flinches then pulls Winnie closer.
“Sorry.” He murmurs, then looks down at the sleeping child. “I’ll bring her back to bed.” 
David sleepily moves through the apartment. Mack clicks off the TV then follows him down the hall. She waits for him as he untangles Winnie from his body. He yawns hugely afterwards, grabbing Mack's hand to lead her down the hall to the bedroom they're staying in. 
As Mack changes into her pajamas, David strips down into shorts. They go through their night time routine- brushing teeth, washing faces, putting on night creams, before falling into bed together.
“Love you, honey.” David mumbles. Mack barely is able to respond before he is out again. 
As David sleeps, Mack thinks over their fun day. There was something a lot more meaningful about this year. It leaves a happy glow in her chest as she replays it in her memories, wanting to remember every moment of it. She wasn’t sure what to expect about having Winnie and Stella for almost a week together, but it’s been a good surprise. They’ve found a comfortable routine. They’re handling any issues that come up in real time. Then they get to fall asleep together in happy, satisfied lumps at the end of another successful day completely in sync. 
Mack's eyes slowly blink open, staring at the ceiling.
Maybe…
Mack isn’t sure how to complete that thought, but she can sense something beginning to shift inside of her. Something fundamental that began as a whisper and now is a gentle coo.
Maybe she could see herself with a life like this after all. 
Read more Mack and David here.
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eldritch-ace · 7 months ago
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Cooking with Abigail, having such fun!
(Aka Happy Father’s Day to my girl)
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codgod · 1 year ago
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maybe they can make it work after all
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estrellami-1 · 29 days ago
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Ok so I saw a post about Steve as a teacher letting his kids control his Spotify which means his Wrapped is All Over The Place but the top artist is Corroded Coffin and Steve finds out from the thank-you video that Eddie is hot. I see it, I love it, it’s inspired.
I’m thinking something… a little different.
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“Alright, class!” Steve calls. “Marcus, it’s your turn to choose the music, right?”
“Actually, Mr. H?” Amber pipes up. “Spotify Wrapped came out today!”
Steve blinks. “Spotify… what?”
Marcus is nodding. “Spotify Wrapped! It tallies up what you’ve listened to and gives you stats and stuff. It’s cool!”
“Ah,” Steve says, nodding, squinting at his computer. “And I see that… how?”
There’s a cacophony of noise until Steve holds up a hand. Everyone quiets, and Becky holds her hand up. He nods at her. “It’s at the top,” she says softly. “Where your recently played is.”
He smiles at her. “Thank you, Becky.” He navigates to it, clicking on it and letting the graphic play.
Their genre, apparently, is soft grass indie metal. He’s entirely sure that’s made up. Their top artist, making up sixty-four percent of the music they listened to, is Corroded Coffin.
There’s a video; a little thank-you the band put together. It starts with Eddie up front, as the lead singer. Gareth, Jeff, and Freak are slightly behind him, grinning at the camera. Steve recognizes the background as Jeff’s living room. “Hi!” Eddie starts. “Thanks so much for listening to our music this year.”
“We couldn’t do what we do without you,” Gareth adds on.
“And everything we do is for you!” Jeff says.
“It’s totally metal of you to listen to our music, and we appreciate it!” Freak finishes. They all wave, and the camera cuts off.
Steve is… gobsmacked. He loves his husband, truly, but he looks so uncomfortable, and the way he’s speaking is weirdly stilted. He was not made to stand still.
He shakes his head, knowing he’s about to make Eddie’s year, and blow these kids’ minds.
Eddie had always been more vocal than Steve about coming out, saying fuck it to the consequences. Maybe being gay was accepted in the metal community, but Steve had been too new in his current job to even think about the jeopardy this could put his career in.
But honestly. That video was terrible, and his kids deserve better.
He sighs, raises a hand to get the class’s attention. “I know that was cool,” he chuckles. “But if you can be quiet and patient, I could get you something even cooler.”
“Cooler than a video from Corroded Coffin?” Nick asks.
Steve tilts his head. “Cooler than that video, at least.”
Nick doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”
Steve just smiles. “How about we find out?” He puts a finger to his lips and FaceTimes Eddie.
He makes sure his volume is low, enough so that he even has trouble hearing when Eddie picks up.
“Baby!” Eddie exclaims, then clocks the background and is instantly worried. “Wait, you’re still at work. Are you okay? Is everything okay? Did you hit your head again? Do I need to come get you?”
“Christ, you’re dramatic,” Steve mutters, grinning wide. “I’m fine. I’m with my class, and we just finished looking at our Spotify Wrapped. Guess who our number one artist for the year was.”
Eddie’s eyes sparkle. He grins. Steve nods. “Corroded Coffin,” he confirms, then sighs. “I have to say, though, I was a little disappointed by the video.”
Eddie groans, throwing his head back. Steve gets a great view up his husband’s nose. “I know! I know, it sucked, but the guys were happy with it and it was, like, our eighth go, and-”
“I get it,” Steve promises. “But how would you like to one-up it?”
It takes Eddie a second, but his eyes gleam. “Are you sure? Your career-”
“Is stable enough now,” Steve finishes. “I’m sure. If you are.”
“Fuck,” Eddie mouths, conscientious of Steve’s class. “I love you.”
Steve smiles, blows a kiss to the camera. He gets a smattering of awws from some of his female students.
He figures out how to connect his phone to his computer to the screen, pushes the volume button up, and nods. “Go, Eds.”
Eddie grins and waves at the screen. “Hi, Mr. Harrington’s class! I’ve heard so much about you guys. It’s totally metal that you’re listening to our music—that’s something your teacher neglected to tell me.” He grins at the screen, a private thing for Steve, who dutifully rolls his eyes.
“I hear your music every day, Eds, forgive me if I don’t think anything of it when I hear it here and at home.”
“Mr. H,” Nathan asks in a pseudo-whisper, “how the hell do you know Eddie Munson?”
Eddie bursts out in a laugh. “You must be Nathan,” he says.
Nathan goes white, then pink. “H-hi, Mr. Munson, sir.”
“I think you should be their teacher,” Steve says, grinning first at Eddie, then his class. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard Nathan say sir before.”
Everyone laughs—including Nathan—and Eleanor raises her hand. “How do you know him?”
Steve takes a breath, glances at his phone. Eddie’s smiling patiently at him, and Steve’s own smile grows as he answers her. “I’m his husband,” he tells her.
“Ten years and counting!” Eddie crows. “Though we’ve known each other for… twenty… something.”
Steve chuckles. “Twenty-three, Eds. If you count high school, which I don’t.”
“But I do,” Eddie nods. “Twenty-three years. And counting.”
Steve chuckles again. “And counting,” he agrees.
As his room explodes into noise, he looks back at his phone to find Eddie already looking at him.
That’s the way it goes, he thinks. Eddie saw him the whole time. It took Steve a while to catch up, but now that he has, he’s never been happier.
Twenty-three years and counting, indeed.
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fireinmoonshot · 5 months ago
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the hard way | tyler owens x fem!reader
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Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Tyler Owens have a bad habit of butting heads, but all it takes is one hint of jealousy and things change in the blink of an eye. Warnings: Tyler is lowkey an asshole, but reader can be too, there is a creepy guy that tries to come onto reader and puts his hands on her. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched the original Twister movie today and got this idea while watching it and then it all just came out of my head onto the page and here we have it! I had so much fun writing this, it's honestly one of my favourite Tyler fics I've done so far. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for all the love on my Twisters fics so far!
“Oh, here we go again,” Boone says, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you walking towards Tyler, your laptop in your hands. Judging by the look on your face, you have something fairly important to show Tyler – and Boone knows Tyler won’t be happy about it.
Dani sighs beside him, her legs kicked up on their cooler from their spot at the motel. It’s late at night and none of the storms had turned into anything today, leading to a very long day for all of you. You’d driven hundreds of miles only to end up with no new footage.
“How long do you think it’ll take him to get mad?” Dani asks.
“He’s just spotted her and he already looks annoyed, so I’d guess straight away.”
They watch on from a distance as you finally reach Tyler. You move to stand beside him so he can see the screen of your laptop. “I was right after all,” you glance up at him. “See this? That storm was never going to amount to anything and even the radar showed it dying out. We could have saved ourselves half a tank of gas and a few hours if you’d listened to me.”
Tyler rolls his eyes and looks away from your laptop, trying to focus on not burning the dinner he’s been cooking the team on the barbecue that the motel has. “Okay, I get it. But I can’t go back in time and listen to you, so will you just drop it? I’ve had to listen to this all day. You’re drivin’ me insane, sunshine’.”
“Well, if you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have kept bugging you about it, T.”
It’s never been smooth sailing between you and Tyler. You get along most of the time, sure – you have to when you’re working together. But you also tend to butt heads more often than not. With both of you having studied meteorology, you’re the only two members of the team with formal training, which means you often have differing opinions on your interpretations of the weather and the forecasts. 
You disagree with Tyler, he disagrees with you and the rest of the Wranglers watch on, both amused and irritated at the fact that the two of you just can’t seem to work together sometimes. There are, of course, times when you can deal with it. But today… well, Boone had been glad to get out of the car at the end of the day and distance himself from the two of you.
He swears he’s not riding with you both tomorrow.
“If I listen to you now, will you stop bugging me still?” Tyler looks at you.
With a scowl, you slam your laptop shut and hold it under your arm. “If you listen to me tomorrow, then I might stop bugging you. I am not having another failed day chasing because of your inability to choose which storms to follow.”
Tyler sighs. “Why do you always have to do things the hard way?”
You huff and walk away, heading back over to the rest of the team. You grab a drink out of the cooler and sit down on the tailgate of Tyler’s truck, sitting your laptop beside you. The other members of the team watch you cautiously, like you’re a brewing storm that could become a tornado at any moment.
“Anyone wanna take my spot in the truck tomorrow? I’ll ride elsewhere,” you offer.
Boone stares at you for a moment. “You promise?”
You make a face at Boone and take a sip of your drink. “Yes, I promise,” you say. “I’m sorry you had to listen to all that today. God, he just drives me up the wall sometimes. I don’t know how he expects us to continue running this damn Youtube channel or get the research we need if we don’t get the right storms to chase.”
“Hey, no Tyler talk while you’re over here,” Dani pipes up. “This is a safe zone.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you mutter, lapsing into silence just as Dexter, Lily and Kate re-join the group, having headed upstairs to their rooms to refresh themselves before coming back down for dinner. You watch as Kate heads over to help Tyler out.
By the time the two of them bring dinner over to you, you’ve managed to cool off a fair amount and are now discussing the forecast for tomorrow with Dexter, who is leant up against the truck, looking at your laptop over your shoulder. 
“Burgers are ready,” Kate announces as they place the tray of them on the small camp table that someone had set up earlier in the evening. “We worked real hard on them.”
You’re surprised when Tyler picks up two paper plates, puts a burger on each of them and then walks over to you, handing one of them to you before taking the seat beside you on the tailgate. 
“Truce?” He says, looking across at you. “I’m sorry ‘bout today, I mean it.”
Your lips quirk up into a smile. “You promise you didn’t poison my burger?”
Tyler chuckles. “No, not unless Kate put something in there that I didn’t see.”
“Okay, then. Truce,” you nod. “But I’m not riding with you tomorrow.”
He raises his eyebrows just as he takes a bite of his burger. It takes him a few moments to reply, refusing to speak with a mouth full of food – something his mother had instilled in him from a very young age. “What? Why? You’re not still that mad at me, are you?”
“No, I just need a change of scenery or I’m worried I’ll run you off the road. I saw the way you got today when you got distracted cause I was arguing with you. It’ll be good for us to cool off and get a break from each other.”
From across the group, Boone adds “I think you just want to argue over the radio, actually. That’s what you mean by a change of scenery, isn’t it?” His voice is teasing.
“Funny,” you narrow your eyes at him.
“You can ride with me and Lily tomorrow,” Kate changes the subject ever so slightly. “Boone can ride with Tyler. Just like old times, right?”
You look at Tyler, expecting him to be happy with the idea of you riding with the others tomorrow so you don’t bother him all day, but instead he looks concerned. His eyebrows are knotted together and the look on his face shows he’s displeased. 
“Ty?”
He blinks and the look disappears off of his face. “Yeah, go for it. Boone and I’ll be right, hey buddy?” He raises his beer in a cheers to Boone, who does the same thing. “Don’t miss me too much from the other car though.”
“Me, missing you? I think you should try not to miss me, T.”
Tyler grins. “Easier said than done, sunshine.”
The following morning it feels strange to be getting into a car that’s not Tyler’s red truck. It’s your usual mode of transport. Your seat is the passenger seat and it has been for most of the chases in the past, except for ones where footage was the primary purpose of the chase and not research. 
You’re just lifting your bag up into the trunk of Lily’s car when Tyler swoops in behind you and helps you lift it – as if it weighed more than it actually did, as if you were actually having trouble with it. You turn around, eyebrows raised. 
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Tyler grins. “Haven’t had a sudden change of heart, I see?”
“Not happening,” you smile in return. “You’ll be fine without me. You and Boone will be able to catch up like old times. And don’t worry, if we disagree on something, I’ll be sure to let you know about it over the radio anyway. I have Kate on my side today.”
Tyler laughs. “Oh, double whammy. I’m in danger today, aren’t I?”
Kate appears from the other side of the car, putting her own bag in beside yours. She wraps an arm around your shoulders and shoots a smile at Tyler. “You’re gonna regret letting her ride in a car other than yours today, Tyler. A day driving with Lily and I… she’s gonna be a changed woman by the time she gets back in your truck tomorrow.”
“That’s if I even want to get back in his truck, Kate.”
He stares at the two of you and then shakes his head and laughs to himself. “Okay, I’m getting Boone and getting out of here before Lily shows up and you guys gang up on me even more,” he turns and heads for his truck. “Drive safe, all right?”
You and Kate both laugh, watching him as he walks towards his truck, Boone joining him on the way there. Dani and Dexter aren’t far behind him, hopping into the van, and Lily comes bounding down the steps after them, her bag over her own shoulder. 
“We ready for today, ladies!?” She calls loudly from across the lot. 
“Let’s do this!” Kate matches her energy.
You take the back seat, feeling incredibly out of place in the car as Lily starts the engine and follows the other two cars out of the parking lot, leaving the motel behind. It’s smaller in this car compared to Tyler’s, and as you pull your laptop out of your bag and get the radar up on it to get another look at the storm you’d all chosen earlier in the morning, you wonder if you made the right choice.
You’ve been on the road for two hours, heading for a storm north of you when you look down at the radar again and see that it’s gotten smaller – not becoming the larger storm you were all hoping for and certainly not likely to produce a tornado. It’s your job to reach up and grab the radio from between Lily and Kate in the front seats to inform the others. 
“The storm’s shrinking, I think we should pull into a gas station and regroup,” you tell the others through the radio, already preparing yourself for the response.
It comes through almost instantly. Tyler, laughing, then his voice: “What was that you were saying to me last night about listening to you? Guess you’re off your game, darlin’.”
Kate grabs the radio off of you before you can say anything else. “Okay, we all chose this storm together, Tyler. Let’s not throw accusations around and not over the radio.” 
You’re unaware that in the truck, Boone is telling Tyler off for the exact same thing. 
“Thanks, Kate,” you reach forward and squeeze her shoulder as she hands the radio back to you. “Next gas station, let’s pull in and we can all look at the radar together. I don’t think we’re gonna get anything massive in the time it takes us to regroup.” 
“You sure about that, sunshine?” Tyler’s voice comes through the radio again. “I don’t know if we can trust your ability to forecast the weather anym–” His voice cuts off abruptly.
“Sorry ‘bout him,” You hear Boone say shortly after. “We’ll see you at the gas station.”
You give the radio back to Kate and lean back in your seat, sighing as you look out the window at the blue sky and the clouds scattered around it. How could he have been perfectly tolerable last night during dinner, help you with your bag this morning and yet be so irritating? You hadn’t even said anything to spur him on. 
It’s about an hour later by the time you reach the next gas station and you’re grateful when you can get out and stretch your legs. Lily and Kate both head for the bathroom while you head inside to order some drinks and food for the three of you. You don’t bother to wait for Tyler when you see him hop out of his truck. 
He makes his way up to you once you’re inside, waiting for your drinks to be made.
“How’s the other car goin’?” Tyler asks, nudging your shoulder gently.
You look at him, arms crossed over your chest, and look away, choosing to say nothing.
“Come on, sunshine. You’re seriously ignoring me? Where’s that fiery attitude of yours? Just cause you’re in another car doesn’t mean you can’t give me shit right back when I give it to you,” he tries. 
But you’re not interested in the slightest. His words had been uncalled for – especially when you’d moved to another car in an attempt to diffuse the tension between the two of you, and he’d just brought it right back up.
The waitress slides the drinks over the counter and calls your name just as Lily and Kate exit the bathroom, heading straight for you. 
“Can you guys watch my drink? I need to go grab my phone from the car,” you tell them.
Lily and Kate happily take your drink, moving to stand beside Tyler and make conversation with him as you head back outside to grab your phone. You don’t really need it that badly, it’d be perfectly fine to leave in the car till you headed back outside anyway, but it was your way of getting out of a conversation with Tyler. Not that it really was much of a conversation anyway.
When your phone is in hand, you make no hurry to walk back inside the gas station. You make note of several other storm chasers in the parking lot and filling up their cars with gas. It’s a popular stretch of road for chasers and you assume several of them had been chasing the same storm as you and had realised it was going to be a bust.
You almost bump into one of them as you’re heading back inside. You recognise him instantly. He’s in one of the more well known teams, one of the Wranglers rivals and one of the many other groups of chasers that think you guys are just in it for the money you get from the Youtube videos rather than a genuine love of weather and chasing.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite Tornado Wrangler,” Xavier flashes a smile at you and holds the door open for you to enter, following in after you. “Bit of tension in the group, I hear.”
You frown, unsure about his words meaning, when he continues.
“One of my guys was switching frequencies in the van and got yours on accident. We, uh, we heard your little… disagreement with Owens,” he admits. “I promise we weren’t listening in on purpose. That’s the last thing I’d wanna do. But y’know… open channels and all.”
You can’t help but cringe at his words and let out an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Xavier. It’s nothing a little time and a successful storm won’t fix, anyway. I think everyone in the chasing community knows Tyler and I butt heads nearly every day.” 
“Butt heads? Honey, that sounded a lot more like an intentional insult to me.”
“No,” you shake your head. “No, Tyler wouldn’t do that.”
Hearing that Xavier thought Tyler’s words were an insult is the kick you need to make you realise that they weren’t. Tyler was the type to get on your nerves, that was true. But the type to intentionally insult you in an attempt to hurt your feelings? He would never do that.
Xavier gives you an unimpressed look. “Listen, honey – we have a spot available in our team and it’s yours if you want it,” He reaches out and places a hand on your waist, almost making you flinch at the action. You resist the urge to hit his hand off. “You have the degree to prove you know what you’re doing and I think we both know you’re wasting your time with the Wranglers. Especially proven that their leader seems to treat you like something on the bottom of his shoe… me, on the other hand, well… I’d treat you better.”
You try your hardest to control your expression, not wanting to come across the wrong way or to make a scene in front of everyone in the gas station – your team, his team and the several other teams and general patrons all milling about and eating their mid-day feed. Even though you feel uncomfortable as all hell and would love nothing more than to deliver a swift punch to his nose and book it straight back out the door. 
“Listen, Xavier,” you take a step closer to him and almost cringe at the way his lips move up into a smile at your closer proximity. “I wouldn’t join your team if it was the last storm chasing team on earth. If you think I’m wasting my time with my team, I hate to think how much time I’d waste on yours. I’ve seen how much time you spend looking in your car mirrors. If you didn’t know, the tornadoes don’t actually care how your hair looks.” You reach up and pat his chest condescendingly. “And if I hear you say one more bad word about Tyler Owens, I’ll make sure the whole chasing community knows about what happened here today, how you tried to come onto me just to get me to join your team. Trust me, it won’t end well for you.”
You don’t waste anymore time in removing his hand from your waist and leaving him standing alone as you head back over to your group. Kate and Lily are watching you from right where you left them, though Tyler isn’t with them anymore. 
Kate hands you your drink. “You all right? What the hell was that?”
“Just Xavier being an asshole,” you mutter, risking a look over your shoulder to see that he’s gone to join the rest of his group. You hope he’s seething and embarrassed by your words. “I dealt with him though.” 
You can’t shake the uncomfortable feeling still running through your body, though. You try and take a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. It doesn’t work, really only making you feel more jittery and strange. 
“I’m gonna go wait out at the car, when you guys are all done we can check the radar together and decide where to go from here, all right? You guys can tell the others?” You ask.
Kate nods. “Yeah, course. You sure you’re okay, though?”
You look between her and Lily, noticing the worried looks on their faces, and try and put a smile on your own face to stop them from worrying so much. “Yeah, I promise. It’s just packed to the brim in here and I wanna get some fresh air after all the driving.”
You can feel Kate and Lily’s eyes on you as you leave, coming out the door you’d only just come inside through. You make a beeline straight to the car, taking a deep breath, grateful for the cool breeze on your skin and the warmth of the sun above you. The uncomfortable feeling starts to fade as you open the door to the car and climb up, putting your coffee in the cup holder and leaving your feet hanging out the door as you start to scroll on your phone to distract yourself. 
It’s only a few minutes later when someone stands in the way of the sun and casts a shadow over you. You blink up to meet Tyler’s eyes. He stands in the doorway of the truck, a hand on his hip.
“Already scouting a new group to join cause of me, are you?” He starts, and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and come out to see you and freakin’ Xavier all close? When the hell did that happen?”
You let out a huff and squeeze your eyes shut. “Seriously, T, can you not do this right now?”
Tyler shakes his head. “I wasn’t trying to insult you over the radio, sunshine. Usually, you give it right back to me, so that’s what I was expecting, and I know I took it too far – Boone said as much after we put the radio down. I really am sorry about it.”
You open your mouth to tell him it’s all right, that you accept his apology, but he continues speaking, cutting you off and making you glad you never got a chance to actually speak.
“But out of everyone, I see you flirting with Xavier? I mean, come on.”
“I wasn’t flirting–”
“Sure as hell looked that way to me,” he huffs. “You two were all touchy. I saw it.”
You take a deep breath and move to stand up, forcing him to move out of your way. You close the car door behind you and turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. You are not going to have this argument like this. 
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous, Tyler.”
Tyler doesn’t hesitate before he replies. “Well, that’s cause I am.”
For the first time since you’ve known Tyler Owens, you’re lost for words. You open your mouth once, twice, unable to come up with anything to say to him. It seems Tyler is the same, just staring at you, his eyes ever so slightly wide. 
“Then… then you’re jealous for all the wrong reasons,” you manage.
You should be saying something else – teasing him, getting on his nerves, but your short response is all you can get out and it’s nothing like your usual tone when you talk to Tyler.
He frowns. “Why is that?”
You clear your throat. “Cause he was the one coming onto me, telling me to join his team and talking shit about you, and I was the one telling him not to talk shit about you and not to put his hands on me, like he thought he could clearly do without consent.”
As soon as you finish speaking, you regret your words only because of the look that crosses over Tyler’s face. He glances over your shoulder towards the gas station where you assume Xavier and his team still are. 
“That piece of shit,” Tyler mutters, and then he’s moving.
You’re quick to react, hurrying after him and reaching out to grab his arm and attempt to tug him to a stop. It doesn’t work the first time, but the second time it does. “Tyler, stop. You going in there is not going to help anything, it’s just going to make things worse.”
Tyler turns to look at you and you’ve never seen him look so mad before. 
“You’re telling me that guy put his hands on you and tried to come onto you and you don’t want me to go and give him a piece of my mind? Sunshine, he deserves worse than what I can do to him, but I’ll do my best,” he says.
You don’t miss the fact that Tyler manoeuvres your grip on his arm to take your hand in his instead, weaving his fingers in-between yours and giving your hand a squeeze.   
“I’m saying that I already gave him a piece of my mind, T, and I threatened that I’d tell everyone about what he did if he said anything bad about you again,” you explain. 
“I don’t care if he says anything about me, but the fact that he did that to you… everyone already deserves to know what a piece of shit he is,” Tyler seethes. 
You squeeze his hand, then. “I’m sure they’ll find out one of these days, but not today, T, please. I just wanted to come out here and get some fresh air and try and forget what happened.”
Tyler takes a breath and then takes a step towards you, away from the gas station. “Do you want company or do you want me to go back inside and tell the others to hang back inside a while?”
“You’d do that?”
He laughs softly. “Have the last few minutes not shown you that I’d do pretty much anything for you, sunshine? And last night? The last thing I wanted was for you to ride with someone else other than me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted, so I didn’t fight you on it.”
“And what you said over the radio this morning?”
“I missed you and the way you always disagree with me. I just acted on it the wrong way.”
“Yeah,” you nod your head. “You were a real asshole.”
Tyler’s face breaks out into a grin. “Not gonna disagree with you on that one.”
You stare up at him for a moment, honestly surprised at how quickly things had changed between you. Only minutes ago, Tyler was mad at you, then he was mad at Xavier and now he was standing here, smiling at you like you were as bright as the sun. His nickname was fitting for you, you suppose.
“Will you just come and stay with me for a bit? Till whenever the others come out?” You ask, nodding your head back towards the car where you’d been sitting before.
Tyler nods. “I have one condition, though.”
“Name it.”
“You sit in my truck instead, and you come back and ride with me in it again.”
You can’t keep the smile off your face. “That’s two conditions, actually, T.”
“And you didn’t say no to either of them,” Tyler smiles. “Come on, sunshine.”
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caitified · 3 months ago
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professional
caitlin clark x golf caddy reader ⛳️
warnings: i’m happy to make a part two showing more of their relationship, but people might hate this so lmk!! i have started part 2 so let me know if that’s something you’d like me to finish. not proof read
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when the owner of the golf club you worked at told you that caitlin would be playing there in preparation for her golf tournament, you were shocked to say the least. he told you that it would be your job to caddy for her over the summer which you excitedly excepted, but in all honesty you were slightly intimidated by her stardom and attitude on the court.
the sun was just starting to rise and you were ready for your first shift. you stood by the cart, waiting for your newest client, still in disbelief at the name on your booking sheet. caitlin clark.
it’s not like you were a diehard basketball fan or anything, but it was impossible to not follow caitlin in some way. living in indiana, you couldn’t have escaped her if you tried, and if you were honest with yourself, you had grown a small crush on the guard.
you had no idea what to expect. you had seen videos of caitlin getting into it with other people and showing off her competitive spirit but you didn’t know how this would translate to golf.
as you glanced towards the club house, you spotted her walking up. tall, confident and even hotter in real life (but we won’t talk about that..🥲)
“hey! you must be my caddy. i’m caitlin,” she greeted you with a wide grin and extended her hand. she was dressed in a casual polo and golf skirt, looking every bit the part.
you shook her hand. “yeah, i’m [Y/N]. ready to hit the green?”
caitlin grabbed a club from her bag, eyeing the course ahead of you.
when she started playing, you had a bit of difficultly staying professional. every time you tried to start a conversation with caitlin, your eyes and mind started wander. she had always looked good, but in person in front of you was a whole different story.
what you didn’t know is that caitlin was having similar feelings. from the moment she saw you she felt attracted to you, but she was here to practice for her tournament and couldn’t get distracted. that didn’t mean you didn’t make her nervous though.
as a result, the first couple of holes were a mix of impressive shots and misses. caitlin, ever the competitor, got a little frustrated after her third shot went wide, landing in the rough. she turned to you with a playful groan.
laughing, you handed her an iron. “if you focus on your swing like you focus on your free throws, you’ll get it in no time”
she raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your commentary. “big basketball fan?”
“a little,” you admitted. “hard not to when you’re on ESPN every other night.”
caitlin laughed, a laugh that felt warm and genuine. “okay, fair enough. but today, it’s all about golf.” she reset her stance, adjusting slightly based on the critiques you gave her earlier ( which she would never admit ). with a smooth swing, she sent the ball soaring through the air, landing it just off the green.
by the time you reached the ninth hole, you could tell caitlin was getting more comfortable, not just with the course, but with you. she leaned against the cart as you handed her a drink from the cooler. “you’re not so bad to hang out with,” she said, her grin widening.
“not until today,” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink. “but you’re not too bad either”
caitlin chuckled softly. “you’re pretty good company, i have to say. plus, i could go pro with the coaching i got from you”
“i think it’s your natural talent shining through,” you teased.
bthe time you finished the round, caitlin had managed to shave a few strokes off her usual score, thanks in part to your company . as you both headed back to the clubhouse, she threw an arm around your shoulders in a friendly side-hug. “so what do you say we make this a regular thing?”
you nodded, trying to keep your cool despite the touch of her arm. “only if you promise to keep improving. i have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
“deal,” caitlin said with a wink.
as you walk away from caitlin, you tried to push down the feelings you had for her and told yourself that it was just a crush. she wasn’t worth risking your job for..right?
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
the days after that first round with caitlin passed like a blur. every morning, you’d find yourself back at the golf course, waiting for her. and every day, without fail, she’d show up with her perfect smile, ready to take on the course, but more than that—ready to spend time with you.
what had started as a professional relationship quickly shifted. there was something easy about being around caitlin. she was open, real, and every round of golf felt less about the game and more about the moments in between. the laughter. the subtle glances that lingered a little too long. and as much as you tried to keep things strictly professional, it became impossible to ignore the growing connection between you.
today, though, felt different.
the late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a hue over the course as caitlin stood beside you on the tee. she twirled her club absentmindedly, eyes focused on the green, but you could sense something more behind her usual relaxed demeanor.
“long day?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
she turned to you with a soft smile. “just thinking.”
“about?” you prompted, trying to sound casual but feeling a subtle tension in the air.
caitlin lowered her club and leaned on it, her eyes now fully on you. “this offseason… i thought it would be about relaxing, taking a break from everything. but i didn’t expect it to be spending all my time thinking about you.”
your breath hitched slightly. there it was—the thing that had been simmering under the surface these past few weeks. the teasing glances, the touches that lasted a beat too long, the way her gaze would drift toward you in those quiet moments on the course.
“caitlin,” you started, but she stepped closer, her expression more serious than you’d ever seen.
“you’ve become the best part of my day,” she said softly. “it’s not just the golf, it’s…everything. you make me feel like I don’t always have to be ‘Caitlin Clark’ when I’m with you, i’m just caitlin. and i don’t know… i don’t want this to end when the season starts again.”
the vulnerability in her voice made your heart race. you’d felt the same way, but hearing her say it—left you momentarily speechless. she looked at you with those eyes, her usual confidence softened by the this moment.
you took a step toward her, closing the small distance between you. “it doesn’t have to end,” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of everything between you. “i’ve felt it too, caitlin. this… whatever this is between us. i thought it was just me.”
her lips curved into a small smile, the relief evident in her expression. “you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”
caitlin’s hand found yours, her fingers warm and strong, just like you’d imagined. the connection between you felt electric, and in that moment, everything else faded into the background.
“i guess i should ask,” she murmured, a teasing glint back in her eyes, “what kind of caddy crosses the line with their client?”
you grinned, stepping even closer, feeling her presence like a magnet pulling you in. “the kind that’s maybe a little too good at their job?”
she laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. then, without another word, caitlin leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, tentative at first. but as soon as you kissed her back, it deepened, filled with everything you’d both been holding back.
“i’m glad I booked you as my caddy,” caitlin whispered, her voice laced with affection. “but I think i’d like to keep you around for more than just golf.”
you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. “i think i’d like that too.”
thanks for reading. i kind of hate this but let me know what you think, and if you’d like a part 2! i could also do 18+ headcannons for this.. do you guys like the reader POV or would you prefer something else? love you!
@connormccafferyhater @equalhealerr
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folkloresthings · 1 year ago
Text
BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.
in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.
( charles leclerc x singer!au )
track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.
✩⡱ warnings: like one curse word
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yourusername baby’s too pretty to be put in the corner
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landonorris BARK BARK
user mother is mothering
sza i’m so in love with you it’s silly
charles_leclerc pretty indeed
⤷ user unhinged charles spotted
⤷ user he’s making moves people!!!
lewishamilton are y’all seeing what i’m seeing
yourusername added to their story!
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TWITTER.
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the pre—race buzz was electric in the ferrari garage, your phone pinging with messages beckoning you to the mercedes garage on the other end of the paddock. you knew lewis wanted to see you, he’d been the one to invite you to the race in the first place, but there was something pulling you to the room filled with red. someone.
“hello again,” your smile widened across your face as charles dodged past mechanics to find you by the wall. his decorated race suit adored his lean figure, but his head was still free of his helmet, despite the clock ticking closer to when he needed to be in the car.
that godforsaken smile of his mirrored your own, knees wobbling as soon as it graced your gaze. without thinking, his arms pulled you into a hug. a friendly one, to be sure. a happy to see you, no matter how your heart yearned for another reason. the emerald in his eyes shone down at you, that same look he’d given you when you’d first met all those weeks ago backstage before your show.
and now here you were, after weeks of texts and late night calls, staring at each other through a fog of tension, waiting with bated breath. he speaks first, and you try so desperately to ignore how his gloved fingers brush your wrist when he does.
“what are you doing tonight?”
you blink, his eyes hopeful for an answer. your head shakes, shoulders shrugging, brain nagging to be an ounce cooler than you were being right now. “i don’t know. why?”
“let me take you to dinner. it’ll be my prize, if i win,” he speaks quickly, as though he needs to say it before hesitancy can change his mind. that familiar lump of nerves turns in your stomach, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. not since austin first asked you out — a feeling that had ended in catastrophe. could you face that kind of tumble again?
“charles, you have to go!” a voice nearby urges, every other driver already behind their wheels. urges him to move, and you to answer. his feet are moving backwards, slowly, but his eyes stay trained on you, awaiting your reply.
“well, you’d better win then.”
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charles_leclerc P1!!! so happy with today’s result, thanks to everyone who got me there ♥️ time to celebrate (even more)
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scuderiaferrari YES! 🍾🍾🍾
user THE THIRD PIC???
⤷ user bro thinks he’s slick
yourusername congrats again!! super duper proud 💌
⤷ user the hair in the pic looks so much like hers oml
⤷ user she literally just got out of a relationship like five minutes ago
yourusername i think i trust you enough to teach me to drive now
⤷ charles_leclerc only now? ouch, my heart ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
⤷ lewishamilton STOP FLIRTING
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yourusername what the fuck is patience?
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charli_xcx damned if i know
pheobebridgers a man? 🤢🤢🤢
⤷ yourusername so true bbz
user SQUINTING to see who the guy is
⤷ user maybe it’s just a friend?? who cares
⤷ user puh lease he got her flowers
charles_leclerc nice flower arrangement
⤷ yourusername i know a sexy florist, want his # ?
user I MOVED
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writer’s note: they’re getting there 😭 i’m emotionally attached to this fictional couple i can’t. fyi this is just a filler to move them along there’ll be drama soon dw
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feeder86 · 1 year ago
Text
Taste
Mike could remember how his breath caught in his throat when he saw Bruno for the first time. Having always been so slim and athletic himself, it was as if all of the blood in his entire body rushed down into his groin and he felt lightheaded; his heart racing with lust for the man in front of him. Bruno was the epitome of Mike’s dream man: taller than everyone else in the bar, large and very, very fat. He was flaunting his chubby physique with pants that were clearly too small; his butt crack on show, as well as the lower half of his gut that pushed out over his belt. There was a buzz around him at the bar. It was rare that a man so large came in here and it was obvious, from the twitching hands of the bear-loving guys around them, that there were many who wanted to touch his remarkably overfed body.
Mike stood behind him at the bar, waiting to be served, feeling like he was invisible in the wide man’s shadow. Even the scent of him, slightly sweaty in the humid environment, was turning Mike on; his large love handles shimmering gently as the bodies crowded around. Finally, with a space opening up at the crowded bar, Mike squeezed himself next to the big man, waiting to be served as well. He looked to his side and smiled shyly, without speaking. Even then, the eye contact, however brief, made Mike’s hardness flex in a way that made him hope he wouldn’t be served too quickly in order to allow the bulge in his crotch to calm down.
“Mine’s a beer,” the big man stated confidently to Mike.
“Sorry?” Mike spluttered back, surprised that he had been spoken to.
“My drink. I’ll have a beer,” he repeated expectantly.
“Oh… I wasn’t…” Mike mumbled, full of embarrassment. “I guess I…”
“Geez, relax, would you! I’m just joking,” Bruno chuckled, raising hand and finally ordering his own beer. “And what would you like?” he offered Mike, as if by way of an apology for causing Mike to get in such a fluster.
Mike accepted the offer and found himself following the heavy man out of the bar queue moments later. It seemed as if the big guy had come here alone, leaning against a small, high table where he could view the entirity of the bar. “Are you a chaser?” he asked Mike in his usual plain manner.
Wishing that he could act cooler, Mike mumbled once again, unsure how best to answer. “I’m not sure,” he lied. “I guess I could be.”
“You’re cute,” Bruno smiled, after formally introducing himself. “Do you want to touch my belly? Most guys in here seem to want to.”
With a free pass to feat his eyes upon Bruno’s large gut, Mike wasted no time in admiring it’s size and shape. He checked with the big man one last time, then let his electrically charged fingertips spread over the fleshy skin. Pure heaven.
“You’re pretty good at that,” Bruno nodded in approval. “Gentle. Sensual. I bet you’re good at giving a massage.”
“I’d be happy to work on your whole body if you like,” Mike shot back, unsure where his sudden boldness had come from, and immediately feeling a little embarrassed by it.
“Maybe,” Bruno chuckled. “If you play your cards right tonight,” he added, leaning into the table and seemingly about to take some time to really invest in finding out a lot more about his new admirer.
It was strange to think back on how shy Mike had been that night. Although Bruno still never failed to make him feel flustered and aroused, he liked to think, nine months later, that he at least managed to keep a cooler head around him. Being in a relationship with someone that he found so attractive should not have been as much of a challenge as it had seemed to be. His parents and friends had taken one look at Bruno and allowed their sizeist prejudices to rise to the surface. Mike had heard no end of slanderous things about Bruno that had been said to him: that he was lazy and greedy, selfish and unambitious. It was all based entirely upon his weight, and Mike knew it. They seemed to hate how much Bruno felt comfortable in his own skin. It was as if they were offended by it; believing that Bruno should feel ashamed and insecure, just like every other 400lb man of his stature. How dare he simply not care about being so fat?
There were sighs whenever Bruno went to grab Mike’s hand and show him affection in front of others. Perhaps it was the way that Bruno dressed that most irritated people and made them feel embarrassed in his company. He enjoyed his clothes being overly fitted and figure-hugging. For him, a t-shirt shirt should be over-long and tucked into his tight shorts, displaying the full arch of his gigantic gut, or else it should be too short, allowing the fat of his underbelly to show through and catch the breeze as he walked about. However, it was also his grotesque appetite that Mike knew his dad in particular found especially repulsive. He wasn’t wrong in saying that Bruno was always eating something or searching in the cupboards for snacks. He found it cheeky and rude how Bruno would help himself in their kitchen, and when he once upturned the milk bottle to chug it straght from the refrigerator, Mike’s dad had raised his voice in a way that Mike hadn’t heard since he was small.
Mike’s friends and family didn’t understand though. They didn’t realise how far Bruno had come to be in the sort of shape he was in now; how he’d always wanted to be a big man. Back when he’d started college, Bruno had been incredibly slim, and even lanky, given his great height. He’d documented his body well by taking lots of pictures during those early days and continued to do so as he began pushing his appetite to the extreme. His body had responded in just the way Bruno had wanted, as a doughy belly began to form on his slim frame. 
Mike felt an arousal he’d never experienced before as Bruno guided him through all of the pictures of him over the years: the time when he’d started to get love handles, the first signs of his double chin beginning to show. Even from quite early on, his butt had started taking on a fair amount of fat. Bruno had said this had been down to the way he’d tried to limit his exercise so much and make those calories as effective as possible when fattening his body. It had taken time; especially at Bruno’s height. Even when he’d left college, his fat stomach had still been faily easy to conceal under baggy clothes. It was only once he’d started working and had his own place that Bruno’s overeating and weight gain really started to turn to very obvious obesity. Bruno recalled with glee the time when his weight started impacting his everyday life: when he’d become too heavy for store-bought clothes, the stairs becoming more intense to walk up. He’d embraced each one of these changes, accepting the fact that his lovers would now purely be confined to those who enjoyed his fatter body. He’d taken on several feeders, of all shapes and sizes, but he’d never committed to any of these other guys in the way that he had to Mike. 
Sometimes Mike would pick up the guy’s empty clothes off the floor and just admire the sheer size of them, hardly comprehending how lucky he was to have such an oversized and greedy boyfriend. Twenty to thirty pounds a year, that was Bruno’s steady gain rate, realised by maximising his opportunities to overeat and consume as often as possible. As Bruno himself had said, fattening his skinny college body had been a lot simpler than pushing the fat on now he was well over four hundred.
Mike often wondered what it was that Bruno saw in him. Whenever they were out at some sort of bear event, it was obvious how much attention the big man could command. Mike had become accustomed to the grumpy stares of jealousy as he held his enormous boyfriend’s hand. Bruno claimed to like how constantly aroused Mike was for him. He could submit and take a pounding, yet also take the reins and feed Bruno far beyond his daily calorie goals. Not that such a mission was often required. Bruno was, if nothing else, highly motivated to overeat, and always so very self-sufficient. Despite the many hours Mike had spent feeding Bruno in the past, he knew that the big man would most likely be just as big, even if he was still single. Everything to him was so erotic, from the new stretch marks and shape, to the retirement of old clothes and the reactions of those who had not seen Bruno in some time. Every last little chance encounter was a reason for the guy to get aroused, and that horniness was more than infectious.
With Bruno’s birthday approaching, Mike began to feel a little anxious about what to do for it. Last year, they had only been dating a couple of months, and so he hadn’t gone too overboard. However, four months ago, for his own birthday, Bruno had arranged an entire weekend away to visit Mike’s hometown; the one that his family had left when he was just eleven. It was incredibly sweet and thoughtful, not to mention remarkably satisfying to show off the town he knew so well to the man that he had fallen so helplessly in love with.
Mike thought about buying an enormous cake, or an entire banquet of food to surprise Bruno with on the big day. However, when considering  how much Bruno ate in a normal day anyway, he didn’t really feel that he could make it all that special. Bruno’s hobbies weren’t any help either. There weren’t any special video games coming out anytime soon and the hot summer sun was zapping the large chub’s energy levels daily.
“What would you like to do for your birthday?” Mike finally asked, having exhausted his entire creative reserves. However, Bruno dutifully denied needing any sort of fuss, claiming that birthdays were nothing special for him.
Mike persisted. With only a couple of days remaining, he was feeling desperate for an idea to delight his lover for his birthday. “I guess maybe there is one thing I might like,” Bruno began cautiously, as if he had been thinking of the idea for some time.
Breathing a sigh of relief. Mike nodded enthusiastically, wanting to hear Bruno’s thoughts.
“Well, maybe we could try a little role reversal that night?” he asked tentatively.
Mike furrowed his eyebrows. “Role reversal?” he asked. He already thought they did that, having quite an active, versatile sex life.
“I mean… maybe I could feed you for a change? Just for one night,” Bruno added hastily, trying to express the idea in baby steps. “I used to be quite good at it, back in the days when I played around with lots of different feeders and gainers. They all said I was good at it.”
Mike mumbled awkwardly. Despite the length of time he’d been with Bruno, he’d never anticipated the man making a request like this. “I thought you loved my body how it is?” he asked, knowing how hard Mike worked at the gym classes he attended.
“Oh, I do!” Bruno nodded emphatically. “I love all body types. It’s just a one-night kinky idea I had.” He shrugged, then laughed at how ridiculous this scenario was. “It’s not about changing you, and if it’s not your thing, it’s fine. I’ll think of something else.”
Mike considered for a moment. “No, wait…” he mumbled; his brain trying to catch up. “It’s fine,” he shrugged. “It’s for your birthday,” he nodded, feeling that a little sacrifice like this would help show Bruno how important he was to him. “Let’s… let’s do this.”
The bus-worker strikes had completely messed up Mike’s day as he arrived home late on Bruno’s birthday a couple of days later. It was nearly half seven already and he’d been out of the house for almost thirteen hours. He apologised profusely, but Bruno already knew how much chaos the strikes were causing on the city, having seen it on the news. He could see the tiredness in Mike’s eyes and offered to forego his birthday treat in order to let Mike head to bed. However, Mike was having none of it. He tried to rally himself, heading for a shower and coming back in, feeling more refreshed. They ate a normal meal and chatted about much of the same things as they usually did.
“Come sit down,” Bruno smiled, patting his extra large, personal chair in front of the TV; a wicked, horny grin plastered across his face.
Mike did as he was told. He never sat in Bruno’s chair and it felt strange to him now; so roomy and worn-in. He stood briefly once again as a hugely fat Bruno kneeled on the floor in front of him and pulled down his pants so that he could play with him more effectively. Right away, the fat man’s expert tongue set to work, making Mke take huge long sighs of pleasure. He put his hand on Bruno’s head for a moment to stop him. “Honey, it’s your birthday. I should be doing this to you,” he worried.
Bruno shushed him and set back to work, making Mike’s legs twitch as he came close to cimaxing at least a couple of times. Then, just like that, Mike suddenly felt a long, chocolate cream cake getting pushed between his parted lips. He chuckled, having been caught off guard completely. He’d almost forgotten about this part of their horny evening. Where had his kinky boyfriend even hidden those cakes? Still, he chewed and swallowed, having accepted this would be exactly the sort of thing he would be getting up to that night.
Bruno’s demeanor was entirely different. His hands caressed and stroked Mike’s body like he was a precious, god-like being; his large, chubby hands stroking his flat stomach and fondling Mike to keep his hardness as he pushed in another cream cake, then another. Yet, still Bruno was edging him, making him think his time had arrived, then pulling it away.
Mike had never felt such a rush of different emotions. At one point, he would feel dominant and pampered, being hand fed and pleasured by his lover. But then, the next, Bruno would stop everything and chuckle at all the food smeared around his face, declaring him to be a ‘greedy boy’, before resuming as before. 
Mike’s stomach was getting tight and yet he still hadn’t climaxed. The shape of it was distended as Bruno rubbed his giant hand over it with a wicked smirk plastered across his face. Mike stared at his boyfriend’s chubby hands as they gathered the fattening foods and felt as those wide, sausage-like fingers he had long admired, now stuffing it all into his open mouth.
“You’re such a good little piggy!” Bruno teased him as it was clear just how full and aroused Mike was at that moment; those expert hands now whipping his erection up into a dangerous frenzy that could tip him over the edge. Mike stared down at his body, having never seen himself so bloated, nor felt his stomach quite so full. Then, that was it, the moment that Bruno chose to let him climax, just as his eyes settled on the little swollen midsection that was now his stomach. The feeling was intense; more so than Mike had ever encountered before and he let out an embarrassing multi-toned moan that only highlighted just how caught out he had been by the whole experience. He felt utterly spent and withered like a dead flower, being taken to bed by his enormous lover.
The next morning was much the same as any other. Bruno thanked Mike for indulging his kink to let him feed him, and chuckled as he apologised for how bloated and full Mike felt, right up until dinner time that day. But Bruno hadn’t stopped lamenting about how much he had enjoyed it and how well Mike had eaten. He recreated the moan Mike made when he climaxed as if it was the sexiest sound he had ever heard, eating more than usual, as Bruno tended to do when he was aroused.
Perhaps it was the way that Bruno recounted that night over and over that made sure the experience never left Mike’s mind, but now, even the thought of it was making Mike feel horny. His memory was crystal clear as the image of his bloated stomach came back to him each and every time he ate.
“I see you guys are still very happy,” commented Danny, one of Bruno’s gainer friends that Mike had been introduced to when they first started going out.
“He’s wonderful!” Bruno gushed, rolling his big arm over Mike’s shoulders. “I’ve never been this happy with anyone before.”
Mike blushed and smiled, always enjoying how open Bruno was about his affection for him. “Thanks,” he mumbled shyly.
“Mike also had his first, er…” Bruno began cheekily, looking across to Mike as if to gauge whether he should share these sorts of intimate details. “He had his first feed the other week,” he finally finished.
“Seriously?” Danny laughed aloud, his jaw dropping in surprise. One look at Mike’s athletic form and no one would ever have suspected that he would be open to try feeding.
“No… it wasn’t like that,” Mike tried to explain, feeling that Danny was suddenly seeing him in a whole new light. “It was just a little birthday treat for Bruno. That’s all. I didn’t want to do it.” 
“He fucking loved it!” Bruno went on; full of excitement to explain; like this had been bottled up inside him ever since it had happened. “He ate like a pig and then squirted absolutely everywhere afterwards. Shall I do the noise you made when you came?” he asked Mike with a cheeky smirk. 
“No!” Mike shot back with blood rushing to his face.
“Well, well, well!” Danny smiled to himself. “I never would have picked you for a gainer!”
“I’m not!” Mike tried defensively. “It was just a one time thing!”
“Sure,” Danny teased him. “That’s what they all say!” He winked and laughed, letting Mike know that he was only joking with him. Then the conversation changed, leaving Mike feeling surprisingly disorientated as they went back to discussing more mundane affairs. His heart was racing. Was he annoyed at Bruno for sharing their intimate secret like that? Or was it something else?
A few more weeks passed by. Bruno had made some significant progress with his weight, to the point where his tummy was starting to fall out of the t-shirts he had worn when he and Mike had first gotten together; arousing them both beyond belief. Bruno had wanted to celebrate, getting high on some weed and stuffing himself full, just as he had done in his early days, back in college. 
“I fucking love you,” Bruno growled, barely able to focus properly. He slapped his big gut and grinned. “I’m getting so fucking huge with your help, and I love it!”
“Well, I’m very pleased to be of some assistance,” Mike chuckled back, in much the same way any sober guy would, speaking to someone so high.
“And you know what else I love?” Bruno asked mischivously.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Mike smiled back, indulging Bruno with his attention, despite the fact that he knew the big man would never remember any of this in the morning.
“I love how chubby you’re getting too!” Bruno whispered as if not wanting to be overheard by a thousand invisible people that surrounded them.
“I’m not getting chubby,” Mike laughed, rolling his eyes at how far gone Bruno was by now.
But Bruno simply threw his head back and smiled with complete joy and happiness. “Oh, I love that!” he moaned with pleasure. “I love how you don’t even realise it! It’s so fucking… insanely hot! You’ve got a little chubby paunch and you haven’t even noticed! It makes me so fucking horny. If you only knew how much fucking butter… and cream… and oils I throw into your food when I cook! Oh, you’d be so fucking mad if you knew!” he giggled to himself; still with that blissful smile as he drifted off to sleep.
Mike stood up, resisting the urge to touch his body and feel. His heart was beating with a peculiar speed, considering how little attention he usually paid to the ramblings of Bruno when he was high. Calmly and without speed, he took himself to the bathroom and shut the door. He saw his face in the mirror, much like every other time he was in here. Pragmatically, he lifted his shirt from his body and dropped it onto the floor. He realised quite quickly that he hadn’t scrutinised his body in quite some time, especially given how quickly the mirror steamed up in this tiny bathroom whenever the shower was running. And yet, the shape of him was all wrong. Since when had his stomach looked so swollen? As he brushed with his finger against his belly button, he noticed a strange, alien fluttering beneath the skin. Unlike the sleeping Bruno in the next room, he hadn’t just gorged himself to create such a bloat. No, underneath his skin was an entirely new, and surprisingly thick, layer of fresh blubber. He grabbed it and pinched at it, surprised at how much he could hold between his fingers and thumb. He turned to his side and noted with horror how very much the shape of it curved out enough to look like a paunch, just as Bruno had said. 
Throwing down his sweatpants and underwear, Mike turned and inspected his rear, only to discover peculiarly plump glutes where his tight butt had once been. His fingers delicately traced the marks on his skin around his waist where his underwear had been quietly digging into him and he bounced on his toes, seeing a ripple of fat flutter through developing love handles. 
Just what had happened to him, he thought with horror, pressing his fingers into his face and realising that there was indeed a little padding of fat growing under his chin. His body was so altered and he hadn’t even realised it! His focus had been so squarely on Bruno, it had left him blind to all else. 
Yet, there it was, as he prodded and poked, grabbed and jigled: the very thing that had led him here, into a kinky relatioship with an ever fattening 440lb man; his raging hard-on, pumped full of blood and throbbing with lust at the sight of his own reflection. Mike’s hand reached for it, as if from pure instinct. Then, with very little time needed, he stroked it up and down, up and down, until it ejaculated with a violent force all across the mirror.
The next morning, Mike awoke to the smell of frying bacon. Bruno was always up early after a session like the one last night, and he generally consumed more than usual the following day. The big man re-entered their bedroom with a grin, passing a large plate of greasy goodness to Mike; it’s hefty portion cleverly camouflaged by the more extreme size of Bruno’s own plateful. 
Instinctively, Mike accepted it, only remembering Bruno’s confession from hours earlier as he was halfway through. Just as he had anticipated, Bruno didn’t remember much from the night before. Once he’d finished the box of doughnuts, he claimed that his mind was a blur, and Mike knew there was no point in bringing up what had been said. However, he did notice, for the first time, how much Bruno was casually glancing over to check on his lover’s progress with the food, inexplicably eliciting a surge of blood into his groin. Throughout the day, Mike also noticed how much Bruno’s eating and snacking habits were rubbing off on him. Whenever Bruno headed to get something for himself from the kitchen, he would always return to the couch with something small and seemingly insignificant for Mike as well. How long had Bruno been doing that without him even registering how these incidental, accidental calories must have been bloating his usual diet?
There were other revelations as well. When Mike went for dinner at his parents’ place one evening, he noticed straight away how small their dinner plates seemed in comparison to what he was now so used to, living with Bruno. He ate it all up, yet his stomach still churned with hunger, even as he left to head home. Then there was the night that he went out for food with his friend, Martha. He’d worn something loose and relaxed, given how much he was starting to notice his paunch in all his other clothes, yet Martha still picked up on a differene to his eating, laughing at how quickly he ate and how full he filled his mouth. Mike blushed. The way Martha described the way he was eating seemed to be exactly how Bruno gorged himself. It had been one of the traits that had turned Mike on the most about his huge boyfriend: the way he ate so ravenously, taking enormous mouthfuls that filled his cheeks and then swallowing it all down and starting again. But had it become a habit that Mike had subconsciously picked up himself as well? Was he now eating in a way that was reminiscent of his 450lb boyfriend?
There was an easy solution to all of this confusion that Mike felt. All he had to do was ask Bruno what was going on. Was he noticeably fatter than he used to be? Was Bruno overfeeding him, as he had claimed that night when he was high? However, Mike had never been particularly great at facing issues head-on. In fact, he found the silence and the ‘not talking about it’ to be strangely comforting. He could forget it was happening and attempt to convince himself that it was all just a kinky little fantasy that was playing out in his own head. That was, until the obvious strain of his pants, underwear and t-shirts started to become too much. Mike remembered how flustered he had been when someone in work had called him out on his weight gains, prodding an outstretched finger into his middle and laughing. He remembered the plethora of emotions within him: embarrassment, shame, disappointment. However, it also supercharged his libido to an insane extent, giving him a boner that he had hardly been able to shift for a whole week.
Upgrading his work pants became the logical strategy, not wanting to generate too much attention to his new shape, nor rip them open if he were to bend over. Likewise, his shirts could look unprofessional if they were to strain any more than they currently were. Mike looked in the mirror and nodded in approval. Yes, these would work well. His new body shape was nicely concealed with ease if you could ignore the slight puffiness to his face. It was certainly something he could learn to live with without too much worry. But that was before the fat started to build up more in his chest. He’d noticed a slight bounce under his shirts for a few days, but it was only when he stood in the mirror that he realised how pointed and full his nipples now appeared. They began to show through, even when he wore his most flattering of shirts and t-shirts. Then Mike could see Bruno staring at them hungrily, knowing exactly what he was doing, and loving every second of it.
It was only a few weeks later, when the concert tickets arrived that Bruno had booked for Mike as a Valenetine’s Day treat, that the enormous Bruno made his next big move. Mike had been gushing about what an amazing gift his thoughtful boyfriend had surprised him with, and kicking himself instead for having forgotten Valentine’s Day altogether.
“You really didn’t get me anything, huh?” Bruno asked with a bemused smile.
“I’m so sorry. I just don’t know where this month has gone. It feels like yesterday we were taking down the holiday decorations,” Mike tried as an excuse.
“That’s okay,” Bruno smiled, grabbing Mike’s butt and rubbing it suggestively, as he tended to do quite often these days, having become seemingly very obsessed with the shape and feel of Mike’s glutes. “I’m sure you can think of a way to make it up to me.”
“I’m positive I could,” Mike smiled back suggestively, turned on by his lover’s chubby hands touching his softer body; his shirt being lifted off.
Bruno headed straight to his target; his tongue sliding over Mike’s nipple with an expertise unkown to Mike beforehand. 
As Mike moaned, Bruno’s hand massaged it’s way into Mike’s groin until the increasingly thicker legs parted to grant him better access. “It’s time you had another feeding,” the enormous, horny man whispered as he lifted his head to kiss Mike.
“Another one?” Mike asked, as if it hadn’t been months since his last one.
“Another one,” Bruno nodded, leading his porky lover to the big chair by the TV and sitting him down. “Right now!” he stated with a smirk.
Deciding not to argue, Mike waited patiently as Bruno disappeared and then returned with mountains of supplies. Where had he hidden all those things? 
Mike sighed and let his head flop back into the chair. Bruno had clearly orchestrated the whole thing, knowing that Mike would forget all about Valentine’s Day, given how busy he had been in work. “All right… Just this once,” he chuckled, surrendering. After all, he really should have remembered their Valentine’s Day. No excuses
This new feeding was kinky from the offset. Bruno’s hands rubbed and pinched at Mike’s extra pounds more than usual, and he pushed in the food with a lot less compromise than he had last time. “What a greedy little pig…” the man whispered between sucking Mike off and pausing at just the right moments to prolong the experience.
There was a swirl and great gushing of chemicals and pleasure in Mike’s brain throughout the entire process. He thought he would climax, then not. He thought Bruno’s teasing couldn’t get any better, and then it did. He’d almost forgotten how arousing his feeding had been last time, and then it all came rushing back with ten times the original intensity. 
“Are you going to keep getting fatter for me, Mike?” Bruno asked, expertly stroking his lover’s hardness as if he really might let him climax this time.
Mike moaned. The answer was obvious. “Yes,” he nodded submissively, desperate to feel that final pleasure.
“Say it. Promise me!” Bruno ordered.
Mike inhaled as much as he could as the orgasm built and his legs twitched with the impending climax. “I promise. I’ll get fatter for you. I’ll eat whatever you want me to!”
“Are you a gainer?” Bruno asked, suddenly deadly serious.
“What?” Mike asked back, completely thrown by the word and the thought of it being deployed to describe him. He looked down at his body, so completely altered and swollen, not just with the food he had eaten that day, but with the pounds and pounds of pure blubber he had amassed over months and months. He’d let it all happen to him without so much as a second thought. His gym subscription had been a pointless outgoing from his bank account for weeks now. He really was… a gainer.
“Say it!” Bruno demanded, knowing that he had taken Mike over the edge and he was running out of time before he would squirt everywhere.
“I’m a gainer!” Mike shouted as he came. “I’m a gainer!”
The smug smile couldn’t be wiped off Bruno’s face over the next few days, even as Mike had panicked and asked if they could take this new direction of his quite slowly. Bruno had agreed, without any sincerity whatsoever. Mike found that his portion sizes had almost doubled overnight and Bruno immediately began experimenting with new pet names for him, like ‘piggy’ and ‘hog’. They’d also had more sex than even in the early days of their relationship; both allowing the eroticism of food and bloating to overtake them.
As Mike’s paunch swelled into a full gut, he hardly recognised his own kinky reflection. He’d started adopting items from Bruno’s old wardrobe from the time when he’d just finished college. The comments on his weight from colleagues and friends had stopped, just as Bruno had warned him they would; the seriousness and speed of his rapidly increasing weight startling them all into silence. Aside from eating a little bit more, Mike could hardly understand why it was all happening to him so quickly. Pants he had bought only weeks before, were now unable to close; the buttons on his shirts straining to contain the expanding flesh behind them. 
Likewise, Bruno had packed on weight at a greater pace than usual, gaining his annual 25lbs in only three months of Mike becoming an official gainer. His double chin had continued swallowing up his neck and his remarkable gut had a new, more extreme width and sag to it than ever before. The gainer bug inside of him was more ravenous than it had been in years - and it showed!
“Look at you two!” laughed Bruno’s gainer friend, Danny. “Fuck!”
Bruno smiled proudly, lifting his enormous t-shirt up to show off the huge expanse of skin and faint stretch marks across his own monstrous stomach. Meanwhile, Mike held back, unused to such attention and merely smiling at how delighted Bruno was to have gained so much weight.
“And look at you!” Danny marvelled, seeing the stout stomach that was pushing its way out of Mike’s torso. “I hardly recognised you!”
“He’s still a little shy about it, aren’t you?” Bruno grinned at his boyfriend, giving his wider butt a little pat at the same time.
“I can’t believe you finally let Bruno have his way with you!” Danny smiled at Mike. “He’s been wanting to fatten you up ever since you two met.”
Mike looked across at Bruno with surprise. “Since we met?” he asked in alarm.
Bruno smirked, despite the truth slipping out. “Of course I did,” he laughed. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I just knew that with a little time and patience, you’d make the perfect piggy for me!”
“Piggy, huh?” Danny chuckled, watching their interaction with more than just bemusement.
“He loves it!” Bruno smiled back excitedly; his tone full of mischief, just as it always was when he was about to overshare. “If he’s eating something and can’t quite finish it all, all I have to do is…”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Mike jumped in, full of embarrassment.
“Take a look at his butt too!” Bruno insisted, spinning Mike slightly so that Danny would see.
“Jeez!” Danny marvelled, seeing Mike’s previously tight glutes now so overwhelmed with the fresh fat that had both widened and rounded out his once pretty little rump. “Not to mention those love handles!”
Mike’s face flushed.
“He’s at that stage where everything is starting to jiggle, all over his body. Such a turn on! In fact, he’s already gained his first hundred pounds!” Bruno boasted.
“First?” Mike asked to clarify, trying to keep his composure and hide the erection that the seemingly throwaway comment had just given him.
“It looks like this fatty really got to you, didn’t he?” Danny chuckled, proudly throwing his arm around Bruno’s big shoulders, like he had acomplished something monumental.
“Yeah,” Mike nodded in agreement, looking on at the man he knew he never wanted to be without; the man who had changed his life in multiple ways - and all for the better. “I guess he did…”
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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Long Snake Moan 9
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My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Loki
Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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It’s a blur. Lust-addled, desire-driven, madness-inducing. You can’t stop yourself from clawing, nipping, licking, and rutting. You’re mindless with the need to stop that plucking. Yet each time you scratch it, the itch gets worse. Until you’re delirious, until there is only a dazed dim all around you. 
You come to slowly. It’s not an awakening. You don’t think you’ve slept. You’re just finally still. 
You smell of sweat and feel grimy. You remember the scald of a shower but little good that did you. You shiver as a coldness seeps into your skin. You touch the icy weight across your stomach and follow the arm up to its owner. Him. Loki. Villain and... 
Your husband? 
You try to push him away. He grumbles and opens his eyes. You nearly scream at the red orbs. He blinks and they clear to green irises and dark pupils. You frown and sputter. 
“What the heck?” 
“Mmm,” he grumbles, “are you not done with me, pet?” 
“No, no more,” you continue to push on his arm. “Please, off.” 
“What is the hurry?” 
“What time is it?” You ignore his protest and glance around. 
“Our time. Husband and wife--” 
“Ah, let’s just hold on that,” your teeth chatter. “Why are you so... cold?” 
“Hm, perhaps us gods run a bit cooler,” he smirks. “How shall you have me then, darling?” He rolls onto his back and stretches, displaying his naked form shamelessly. “Would you like to be astride or shall I take the reins?” 
“Please,” you hold your hand up to block out his nakedness. “I need to--” You sit up and your head pulses, “think.” 
You turn your legs over the edge of the bed with all your effort. You bend over your lap and hold your head as you try to gather your senses. You groan and push yourself up. You stand but only for a second before you’re hurtling forward. 
You don’t hit the floor as Loki catches you and just as swiftly scoops you into his arms, “now, precious wife, don’t be so careless. You will hurt yourself. You must rest. Especially after three nights of consummation--” 
“Three-- Three nights!?” You cry out. “You’re lying.” 
“I am a trickster but in this I am honest. As I have vowed to be in our marriage--” 
“Where’s my phone?” You wriggle but don’t have the strength to break free. 
He rolls his eyes and carries you around. You’re nothing in his arms. That feeling makes jars you even more. He’s upended your whole life. You almost forgot about the damn green curtains. 
“Put me down,” you demand as he carries you into the front room. 
“Darling--” 
“Down,” he demands. 
“As you wish.” 
He sets you on your feet and lets you go. You lean and stagger. Oh god. Your insides hurt. You feel so hollow like you could fold in on yourself. You babble and grab onto his arm. 
“Christ, what did you do?” 
“Oof, keep your mortal gods’ names off my person,” he derides, “I did as a good husband does.” 
You frown and squeeze him, leaning even though you can barely stand to touch him. 
“Can you put some clothes on?” You hiss. 
“Speak for yourself.” 
You look down and squeak. Shoot. He sighs and flicks his hand. In an instant, you’re draped in green silk and sleek satin robes swathes around his lithe figure.  
“Happy, dear wife?” He taunts. 
“Not really,” you grit as you walk forward, keeping hold of him as your legs wobble. 
“Please, darling, sit,” he guides you to the chair. “As I said, you will need to recover. You mortals are rather adorably weak.” 
He sits you down and turns with a cluck. He strides across the room and scoops up your phone, “ah, here it is. I did have to silence it. Rather pesky devices.” 
He hands it over and you take it. You croak at the date below the time. He’s really not lying. Three days. Of fucking? With him?! 
“Oh gosh,” you slump over as you bend your arm on the chair and lean on it. 
“Gosh indeed,” he snickers. 
“Stop,” you beg. 
“Stop? As worn out as you may be, darling, I must commend you. It was... delicious. I do enjoy it rather much.” He comes to perch on the other side of the chair and pets your shoulder. “Most unexpected, I must add. To say, when I first laid eyes upon you, I didn’t think you had it in you though I could see myself in you.” 
Without thinking, you hit his knee. You sit up and scowl, “do you have to be so gross?” 
“Gross? Where I’m from, sex is not so shameful. It is a past time. We enjoy it, a lot. Myself especially. And if I must stay on this cursed planet, I may as well have some delight.” 
“Why did you do it?” 
“Hm, from all the research I’ve done of your people, I was led to believe you would be ecstatic to be married.” 
“Ehhhh, never really was a goal of mine personally. Too much... work. And weddings are a lot.” 
“Oh, I agree. My last wedding was awful,” he agrees. 
“You’re last--” 
“Annulled, mind you. She slept with someone else...” his lip curls. “It is an acceptable reason to void if your bride lays with your brother, you see?” 
You look up at him, “Thor?” 
“Mm, yes,” he flicks his eyes up. “Eons ago. Suppose it should be forgotten.” 
“Wow, I’m... sorry.” 
“Sorry? It wasn’t you. How peculiar. You midgardians apologise for things beyond your realm.” 
“Well, I’m sorry it happened. Isn’t very nice to be cheated on,” you say. “And even if it was a long time ago, it still happened.” 
“You sound wise in these matters,” he says. 
You shrug, “not really.” 
You try to stand again and he stops you with a gentle pat, “darling, whatever you need, I will fetch it. I insist that you let your body rest.” 
You huff and fall back. You don’t have much choice. Just like every other step of your acquaintance, you are helpless. 
“Nothing, I’m just... thinking.” 
“I can make tea. Without extra sweetener this time,” he offers. You consider him warily. He shows his palms. “I’ll make it in front of you, should you wish. I do prefer a living wife over a dead one though and another dose...” 
“Another dose what?” You exclaim. 
“Well, I don’t really know how much a Midgardian can handle of that specific leaf--” 
“Just go,” you shoo him with your finger and close your eyes. “I can’t handle any more.” 
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imagining-in-the-margins · 2 years ago
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Tipsy (S.R.)
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Summary: Spencer can’t handle his liquor, or how much he loves Reader.   Request: Tipsy Spence asking for kisses and cuddles? - @smutmecca
Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Fluff (16+ for sexual themes) Content Warning: Alcohol mention, drunk Spencer, flirting, kissing, heavy petting, sexual themes Word Count: 750
MASTERLIST
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Everyone knows Spencer can’t handle his liquor. Regardless of the reason he prepared to give, most people wouldn’t question why he abstained altogether. They all just assumed—correctly—that it was for the best.
But there were still those rare nights, the ones punctuated with only happy calls home, where even he felt compelled to celebrate.
On one those nights, you let him. You sacrifice your own preferred celebratory activities so that at least one of you can be on your best behavior.
That was a good decision, too, because while you were behaving, Spencer decidedly was not.
From his position next to you in the booth, your boyfriend is pressed against you so tightly he might as well be sitting in your lap. Even with almost no air left between your bodies, he keeps inching closer until his face is mere inches from yours.
“You’re sooo pretty,” he slurs.
You hate how cute it seems.
“Really?” you answer with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Because, while flattering, it was the fifth time he’d said it over the span of an hour.
“Yes, really. It is a fact,” he confidently replies.
Just as quickly, though, his lips turn into a pout when you don’t seem impressed by his astute observation.
“Because—,” he hiccups, “—I’m a genius, actually, and I know for a fact that you are really, really pretty. Actually.”
You can’t stop the laugh from sputtering between your lips. Spencer, partially heartbroken, also can’t help but to join you in the laughter.
After all, you look so beautiful when you smile.
His attention gets caught in the crinkling of your eyes and he is immediately lost in his admiration.
His hands are burning hot when he grabs your face, but you accept the heat. You lean into his palm and watch as his pupils dilate in response.
Your reflection shifts in his eyes, and just before he can kiss you, you whisper, “I’m not a genius, but I’m pretty sure you’re drunk.”
Downtrodden by the second rejection in a matter of seconds, Spencer is quick to (attempt to) correct you.
“Mmmmno I don’t think so,” he slurs.
Needless to say, you aren’t convinced.
But he looks so beautiful when he is hopelessly in love with you, and so you let it go.
“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”
The surrender ignites a fire in your silly little boyfriend. In an attempt to quell his desire, you offer him a slightly tighter embrace.
Spencer drops his head against your shoulder without delay. His barely-there stubble tickles you when he starts to nuzzle against your neck. Instead of pulling away, you just return a dreamy sigh.
The sound was either the very right or very wrong thing to give that foolhardy boy. As soon as the noise leaves your lips, he turns his face and begins a series of feverish kisses against sensitive skin.
You bite back a moan at the feeling and thank the stars that no one else can see his blatant display of affection.
Half-heartedly, you push him away. You immediately regret it when it has the opposite of its intended effect.
Spencer’s hand begins insistently sliding up the inside of your thigh until he hits the edge of your bottoms.
You jump with an audible squeak. Your knees knock against the table, and, with both arms, you fully shove him away.
“Whoooa—oh my god! Okay, time to go home!”
When you turn to face him, however, the embarrassment is replaced with a more primal feeling.
Because Spencer is looking at you like a man starved. With blown out pupils and a scratchy voice, he growls, “Finally.”
The sound causes goosebumps to ripple over your skin. You try to seem a little calmer, cooler than you are.
“Come on, genius,” you sigh.
On the short walk to your car, your mind immediately starts to wander with what you might do to punish him for the scene he’d caused. Spencer notes your little smirk as you help him into the passenger seat.
“Just wait until we get home,” he taunts.
For a moment, you are excited.
That feeling is fleeting, though. Because by the time you get to the driver’s seat, you turn to find that sweet, silly boy already fast asleep.
You laugh—quietly, so as not to wake him. You find a silent victory in the simple sight of him happily at rest.
In a different kind of way, you can’t wait to get home, because as soon as you do, you know you’ll never get his sleepy figure off you.
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(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)
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brainddeadd · 3 months ago
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luke pinning after quinn’s best friends and she always thought it was just a little crush he would get over but after years she finally believes him and gets his chance
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Just a Little Crush
Luke Hughes x fem!reader
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Quinn Hughes' best friend had always been off-limits to Luke Hughes. Not because Quinn explicitly said so, but because she was older, cooler, and saw him as nothing more than the kid brother. For as long as Luke could remember, he had a crush on her — one he tried to play off casually in front of Quinn, even as his feelings for her deepened over the years.
At first, she thought it was just a phase. A teenage thing. She’d laugh it off every time Luke would try to flirt, ruffling his hair like he was still that lanky kid hanging around Quinn’s friends at summer barbecues. "You're cute, Luke," she’d say with a smile that both melted his heart and frustrated him endlessly. "But you’ll grow out of it."
But Luke didn’t grow out of it.
In fact, as he grew older — taller, broader, more confident — his feelings for her only seemed to solidify. She noticed, too. It became harder to dismiss his lingering glances, the subtle touches that sent sparks up her arm, or the way he looked at her as if she was the only person in the room.
She tried to tell herself it was still just a crush. That Luke was young and still figuring out what he wanted. But the problem was that Luke knew exactly what he wanted. And it was her.
---
She paced around the lake house living room, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Quinn sat on the couch, watching her with a mix of amusement and confusion. “Okay,” he finally said, setting down his beer. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird all night.”
She stopped pacing, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “I need to talk to you about something,” she blurted out, anxiety lacing her voice. “And you might hate me for it.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this. “Alright...”
She exhaled deeply, sitting down on the armrest of the chair across from him. “It’s about Luke.”
Quinn’s face didn’t change, but there was a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Okay.”
“I think...” She hesitated, running her hands through her hair. “I think I have feelings for him.”
Quinn blinked, processing her words, and to her surprise, he didn’t look angry or shocked. If anything, there was a flicker of something like... relief?
“For how long?” he asked calmly.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater. “I always thought it was just a crush he had — you know, something he’d get over. But he didn’t. And somewhere along the way, I guess I realized... I didn’t want him to.”
Quinn leaned back into the couch, his expression unreadable. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, waiting for him to say something — anything. “Quinn, I never meant for this to happen,” she whispered, guilt creeping into her voice. “If you’re upset—”
“I’m not upset,” Quinn interrupted, and his tone was surprisingly soft.
She froze. “You’re not?”
Quinn shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Honestly, I kinda saw this coming.”
Her eyes widened. “You knew?”
He chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. “I mean, come on. Luke’s been into you for years. And I know my brother. When he wants something, he doesn’t back down.”
She stared at him, stunned. “But... I thought you’d hate it. I thought you wouldn’t want me and Luke—”
Quinn shook his head again, cutting her off. “If it was anyone else, maybe. But it’s Luke. And I know how he feels about you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, you’re one of my best friends, and if my little brother is lucky enough to end up with you? I couldn’t ask for more.”
Her throat tightened with emotion. “Quinn... are you sure?”
He smiled, genuinely this time. “Yeah. I’m happy it’s him. He’s a good guy.”
She let out a shaky breath, the weight of her fear and guilt lifting off her shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling tears prick at her eyes.
Quinn stood, pulling her into a quick hug. “Just... don’t make me hear about any gross relationship stuff, alright?” he teased, making her laugh through the lump in her throat.
“I promise,” she said, wiping her eyes.
As Quinn pulled back, he gave her a reassuring nod. “Go get him,” he said with a grin.
And for the first time, she knew there was nothing holding her back.
---
It all came to a head one night during the offseason, at another one of Quinn’s get-togethers at the lake house. The evening air was warm, filled with the sound of laughter and clinking bottles. She had wandered out to the dock for some air, watching the water shimmer under the moonlight, when she felt someone step beside her.
“Hey,” Luke’s deep voice broke through the quiet.
She glanced up, a little startled. He wasn’t the scrawny kid she remembered. He stood tall now, broad shoulders brushing hers, dark eyes unwavering as they locked onto hers.
“Hey,” she greeted softly, feeling an odd flutter in her chest she didn’t want to acknowledge.
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, until Luke finally spoke again. “You know... I meant everything I’ve ever said.”
She tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”
“All those times I told you I liked you.” His gaze was intense, and there was no trace of the playful boy she used to know. “I wasn’t just messing around.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“Luke...” she started, her voice barely a whisper.
“I’ve been waiting,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “For years. I know you thought it was just some crush, but it’s not. It never was.”
Her breath hitched as his hand brushed hers, fingers curling slightly, testing the waters. “You could’ve moved on,” she whispered, unsure whether it was a statement or a question.
“I didn’t want anyone else,” Luke admitted simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
And just like that, the walls she’d built around her heart crumbled. Years of dismissing his feelings, convincing herself it was nothing, all came crashing down as the realization hit her — Luke had been serious all along.
She bit her lip, fighting the nervous flutter in her chest. “So... what now?”
Luke smiled, slow and certain. “You give me a chance.”
And this time, she didn’t brush him off. Instead, she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. Maybe it had taken her too long to believe him. But standing there under the moonlight, she knew one thing for sure — she wasn’t going to waste any more time.
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nadvs · 6 months ago
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so sorry for sending so many requests but this just popped into my head. in the swte universe, in their college days, i feel like the reader isn't a huge fan of drinking or she doesn't get as pissed as rafe at least. so what if she gets completely drunk one night, being clingy to rafe, maybe people flirt with her because she's without rafe and he comes to "rescue her"? idk just sth like that🤍🤍🤍🤍
never be sorry, ily and your ideas are always so good 🥹 YES omg rafe has no impulse control so he gets hammered on the reg, whereas she’s not one to get too crazy… most of the time 🤭
i’m a sucker for angst so i just had to make it when they’re fwb and he’s already fallen for her while she still just assumes they’re just friends (and this is the night she starts to think of him as something more) 👀
based on this fic
» au masterlist
she cannot pay attention to the guy talking to her. she’s too dazed. she hasn’t eaten much today. she’s running on only a few hours of sleep. and the coolers she drank were so sugary that she didn’t even realize how much alcohol she was consuming. this is the drunkest she’s been in ages.
this guy’s hitting on her. she can tell by the way his eyes trail down her body every so often, his head tilted as he rambles on about something. what was his name again?
she nods along, trying to follow his words while loud music surrounds them. she doesn’t even remember how they started talking.
rafe moved in to this house with his teammates just last weekend and tonight, they’re hosting their first party. the front room is crowded and stuffy and she’s getting dangerously close to feeling sick.
she’d rather hang out with rafe right now. but when she arrived, he pulled her in a friendly hug and pointed her to the drinks, then continued talking to the girl he was already in conversation with.
he’s probably trying to hook up with her and she doesn’t want to be a shitty friend, cockblocking him simply because she’s craving some familiarity.
“…too much work, you know what i mean?” the guy says.
“yeah,” she says, no idea what she just agreed to. she looks around. “did you see any water around here?”
“we can try the kitchen?” he offers.
rafe spots her crossing through the crowd. the guy who she’s been talking to, so obviously into her that he’s embarrassing himself, is following her. she doesn’t seem all that happy that he’s trailing her.
he’s been talking to this girl to try to get out of the fog that sank over him not that long ago. while he was getting ready tonight, all he could think about was the girl who’s supposed to just be his best friend.
she’s always on his mind. when he wakes up. when he goes to bed. during classes. during practice. it’s so bad that even when he’s with her, he’s dreading her leaving.
rafe turns his attention back to the girl talking his ear off. he needs to distract himself. he’s starting to see his best friend as more than a friend, has been for a while now, and it’s fucking agony. she could not be clearer about not wanting a relationship.
and he doesn’t want one, either. he needs to remind himself of that.
but as they round the corner into the kitchen, he sees the guy’s hand rest on the small of her back. it makes rafe’s blood boil.
she opens the fridge. it’s practically empty.
“this has to be a joke,” she mumbles, dizzy at this point.
she swings the door shut and looks up at the guy who’s been following her. at this point, she just wants to get rid of him and find rafe. she can apologize for cockblocking him later.
thankfully, she doesn’t have to. rafe pays no mind to the guy clearly trying to get in her pants, putting himself between them. he ducks, lowering so he can speak in her ear.
“you alright?” rafe asks.
“a house full of athletes and you don’t have any water?” she slurs.
rafe smirks when her hand drags over his. it’s so damn nice when she touches him, especially when it’s subconscious like this. he pulls back just enough to meet her eyes.
then, he turns to the guy who should be able to tell he’s a third wheel at this point.
“we’re good,” rafe says, cocking his head in a way to dismiss him.
irritation flashes over his face. but he’s not moving.
“can you not take a hint?” rafe snips. “she’s not interested.”
rafe isn’t sure if that last part is true, but he hopes it is. it works. he sighs and steps away, pissed off but likely not about to start a fight with the guy known for his aggression.
he turns his attention back to her. he’s revelling in the fact that her hand is still cupping his. her palm is so nice and soft and it’s making his chest go warm.
“how much did you drink?” he asks, the amused smile on his face returning.
“too much,” she admits.
rafe leans over, opening a cupboard to grab a plastic water bottle, then grips her hand tighter.
“come on,” he says. he leads her upstairs to his bedroom, away from the noise and stuffiness of the crowd.
once he shuts the door behind them, the chaos from downstairs muffled, she already feels less overwhelmed.
she’s been in here once before. they hooked up in this bed a few nights ago. she can still remember the way his mouth felt on her neck.
rafe leads her to his bed, sitting her on the edge while he kneels on the floor in front of her, and she’s overwhelmed all over again because of the way he’s looking at her, concern etched into his features.
she’s too drunk. she’s not thinking straight, because not only is she dizzy as hell, but as her eyes sweep over his face, all she can think about is how handsome he is, how good of a kisser he is, how nice it’d be to spend the rest of the night in his arms, like they’re a couple instead of just two people who hook up sometimes.
he twists the cap off the bottle for her. she takes long, slow sips. rafe settles on the bed beside her, watching her.
she lets out a slow breath once she’s drank enough. when she looks at him, she exhales a chuckle.
“why do you look so worried?” she says. “i’m not gonna die.”
rafe catches himself and glances away. this effect she has on him is insane. he’s never cared this much about anybody.
“just didn’t know you were this bad at holding your alcohol,” he says.
“i hate you,” she laughs. “but thanks for saving me.”
“saving you?”
“that guy would not shut up.” rafe hates how happy he is that she didn’t actually like him.
“about what?”
“i couldn’t tell you a single thing he said to me,” she confesses. he chuckles. “i was just thinking that i’m drunk as hell and want to hang out with you.”
that last part slipped out. she takes another sip of water just to have something to do. she expects him to give her shit for her soppy words. but he doesn’t.
“why didn’t you?” he asks.
“didn’t wanna cockblock. that girl you were talking to is pretty.”
she hopes in her drunkenness, she doesn’t sound jealous. because she realizes maybe, deep down, she is.
how could she not be? rafe turned out to be so much more than she expected. what she thought would be a one-time hook-up led her to her best friend. her best friend who happens to be hot and fun and unlike anyone she knows.
“she wouldn’t shut up, either,” rafe says. she laughs, sinking back across his bed.
“are we both just bad listeners?” she asks.
“i’m not.”
“right. you’re never the problem.”
he looks down at her. his cheeks are starting to ache from smiling.
“we should set them up,” she says, her eyelids heavy, legs hanging off the side of his bed. “they’d never run out of things to talk about.”
rafe thinks about how the same could be said for the two of them. conversations always come so easy.
she shuts her eyes and all he can think about is how cute she is. fuck, this is hard.
“what if i napped right now?” she mumbles. “would you be offended as the host of this party?”
“yeah,” he answers simply, because he’s quite honestly at a loss for words right now.
“okay, i’m gonna offend you then,” she says softly. “sorry.”
he nudges her knee.
“don’t sleep like that,” he says. “come on.”
she shifts to lie down on her side, smelling him on his pillow, feeling him put a cover over her. he’s treating her with such tender care that if she wasn’t so drunk, she’d be teasing him, asking who the hell he’s pretending to be, acting all sweet.
but she’s soaking in the feeling because it’s nice to pretend like this is more. she hopes it’s just the alcohol swimming through her that’s making her think this way.
she nuzzles into his pillow. rafe doesn’t say another word. he shuts off the lights and leaves. throughout the night, he comes back up every so often to check on her.
eventually, she wakes up and comes downstairs, feeling more coherent. the music is just worsening the headache she woke up with and she’s desperate to just get home already. she steps outside and books a ride on her phone.
rafe’s phone buzzes in his pocket. it’s a text from her.
thanks for taking care of me. i ordered a ride home and made your bed so i think we’re even
his heart sinks over the fact that she’s already gone.
he replies: we are not even
she texts back: i’m okay with not agreeing on this. goodnight :)
rafe stares at his screen with a small smile on his face, somewhere between happy and sad, before texting back: goodnight.
236 notes · View notes
annwrites · 3 months ago
Text
⸻ happy new year. ⸻
· pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader · type: one-shot (collection) · summary: you & nate run into each other on new year's eve & decide to spend it together. · word count: 2,452
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“You alright?”
When you turn your head upwards, you're met by the sight of Nate Jacobs staring down at you with a raised brow.
You shake your head and lick powdered sugar from your lips.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I was just…” You sigh. “I was heading to Virgil’s New Year’s party with a friend, but they were already drinking when they picked me up. I demanded they let me out when they swerved into another lane. So, now I’m sitting in a convenience store parking lot eating donuts.”
You glance down to your phone. 
“I should probably order an Uber,” you mutter while unlocking the device.
He jerks his head toward his truck. “I’m headed that way if you want me to give you a ride.”
Your eyes flit to the case of Budweiser he holds in his hand, then to his face with a raised brow.
He grins. “I haven’t drank yet tonight. I was planning to save these for when I got to the party. I promise that I’m sober.”
You consider for a moment, then decide there’s no reason you can’t still enjoy the rest of the evening. You’ll go, then order an Uber to take you home once you’re ready to finally head that way.
Finally, you nod with a small smile. “Sure.”
He offers you an outstretched hand.
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You rest your arms on the passenger-side windowsill and enjoy the feel of warm night air washing over you. 
“How come we’ve never hung out before?”
You turn back to Nate with a questioning look.
His lip twitches. “What?”
“Are you actually asking that?” You ask, leaning back.
He glances back to the road. “I think it’s a reasonable question. We’ve known each other for years. Since kindergarten. So that’s, what, since we were each five-years-old? Yet we barely know one another.”
You shrug slightly and take a sip from the bottle of water you purchased back at the store. “I guess it can seem strange: knowing someone nearly all your life, but not really knowing them. But it happens. People growing up together, but not inherently being friends, I mean.”
He shrugs. “No reason we can’t get to know each other now.”
You shift in your seat. “What? Like, tonight?”
He stares ahead at the road for a moment. “You want to blow this party off and go somewhere else instead?”
He glances to you then.
“Like where?” You ask with furrowed brows. 
He turns on his blinker. “You’ll see.”
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You and Nate are seated in the bed of his pickup—which is parked near the high school's football field—with a case of beer resting between you.
Nate is on his second bottle, while you’re still nursing your first.
“So, tell me something about yourself,” he says, resting his head back against the rear window.
“Like what?” You ask while tracing the pad of your thumb around the rim of the bottle.
“Anything.”
You think for a moment. “This is the first time I’ve ever drank.”
He takes another sip of his beer. “How is it?”
You wrinkle your nose slightly and shrug. “It’s not my favorite.”
He chuckles. “I’m going out on a limb here and assuming a wine cooler or hard seltzer would’ve been more your speed.”
He rolls his head in your direction. “But I guess there's no real way to know.”
You take another drink.
“What about you?” You ask.
He raises a brow. “Hm?”
“Now is the part where you tell me something about you in return.”
He grows quiet for awhile. “Honestly, I was looking for an excuse not to go to the party tonight, simply because I didn’t want to see Maddy.”
You’re not sure that that counts as ‘something about him’, but you suppose that it’s technically something, nevertheless. 
“Why? Are the two of you having problems?”
He smirks. “When aren’t we?”
You choose not to reply to that.
In truth, you’ve noticed on more than one occasion the two of them arguing in the halls at school, or in the parking lot. Or one, if not both of them, seemingly in a mood in class. 
It’s simply none of your concern, and you have little interest in making it as much. 
“You don’t date, though, do you?” He asks, finishing off his second bottle. 
You begin picking at the label that’s wrapped around your own. “Not really, no.”
He leans in slightly toward you. “Can I ask why?” 
You settle back against the corner of the truck bed. “I mean no offense by this, but it seems to me that most boys our age are only interested in one thing. Then again, people say that doesn’t change for men, even as they get older. So, I guess no matter what I do, I lose.”
He grabs another bottle. “Eh, things aren’t always the greatest on our side, either. Plenty of girls are just sluts, or only get with you merely for attention, or to have you blow your money on them.”
You’re quiet for a moment, while you listen to the chirping crickets which surround you. “Is that what happened with you and her?”
He nods gently. “To an extent, yeah.”
You tilt your head back and stare up at the dark night sky and all the twinkling stars above you. 
Meanwhile, Nate stares at you in return.
“So, in other words, you’re not looking for some easy hookup, or one-night stand,” he replies.
You shake your head.
“I think that’s a rarity nowadays: to come across somebody who’s interested in something more—in a relationship with actual substance, instead of something superficial, I mean. With Maddy, everything was like some sick game to keep the both of us always on-edge.”
You turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry.”
He twists off the cap of another bottle between his teeth, then spits it across the bed of the truck. “Me too.”
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“I feel like I’m somewhere I’m not supposed to be.”
Currently, the two of you are lying down in the middle of the high school’s football field...and it’s actually rather comfortable. The grass is freshly mowed, and feels quite soft beneath you.
Nate grins and rolls his head to the side to look at you. “I can’t believe you’ve never come to one of our games before.”
You shrug and blink up at the starry night sky. “Not really my thing. I’m not exactly the ‘sporty’ type.”
He turns onto his side and he rests his head in his hand while he gazes at you. “So, what is your thing, then?”
You smile slightly, and he knows he’s finally found a way in, in terms of getting you to finally open up a little.
“You really want to know?” You ask while meeting his eyes.
He nods.
You turn onto your side excitedly. “Photography.”
He gives you an impressed look at discovering this hidden facet of your personality. “What kind? Portraits?”
You snort, as if it should be obvious that that’s not the correct answer. “No. I have no interest in capturing people, or in staring at them through a lens while they put on a mask, as if they don’t do it every other moment of their life, too.”
“Wildlife?”
You shake your head. “I think I could get into bird watching, maybe, but I feel like memorizing all their different colors and facets and chirps would be a lot of work.”
You turn back to staring up at stars. “Landscapes. Nature. Abandoned places that tell a story all on their own, even if I’ll never know what it truly is.”
A soft smile spreads across his lips at the way you talk about it. “Is that something you intend to go to college for?”
You frown slightly and shrug. “Probably not. College is expensive, and I don’t know that it’s something my family can afford. Which is fine with me. I mean, there are certain things that I don’t feel a degree is necessary for, in that you can make it without one. Like writing. Anyone can tell a story on page. And all one needs to be a photographer is a camera. Maybe a nice flash and a cheap photoshop program wouldn’t hurt, either.”
“Do you want to make a career out of it, then?”
You’re quiet for a moment. “It’s a nice thought, but I think it’ll only ever remain a hobby for me. Portraiture is where the money is. Photographing the things I do… I’d only ever make real money out of it if a magazine or online site that publishes articles hired me on, and even if I got lucky and got in somewhere like that, I doubt there’d be much money to be had. They probably pay you some one-time flat-rate fee without royalties, even if the site gets a lot of traffic and ads.”
He reaches over and brushes a stray hair from your face. “Sounds like you’ve thought a lot about it.”
You glance to him. “Some, I guess. I just like the way it makes me feel when I go out exploring and I come across something worth capturing. Or when I look back through my work and make up stories in my head about it.”
“Can I see some of them?”
You pretend to grimace and he smirks. 
“What? That bad?”
You roll your eyes, then pull your phone from your pocket. 
You open the cloud drive you have all your photos stored in and take a few minutes to find one of your favorites.
Finally, you hand the device to him.
He takes it from you—his fingers brush against your own as he does so—and he studies the picture, for a long while.
You begin to grow a bit nervous that maybe he thinks it's dumb.
Not that it makes much difference to you if he does.
Your hobby is for your enjoyment. Others' opinions on it are of no consequence to you.
“This is really good. I mean, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think a professional took it.”
You beam with pride then and he matches your smile.
He hands you your phone back then.
“So, you’re a photographer.”
You shrug. “It always makes me feel so pretentious when people say that.”
“Why?”
You sigh. “I guess because of the fact my work isn’t published anywhere.”
He sits up slightly. “So? I mean, would you tell someone who spends all their spare-time painting that they’re not a painter, just because they don’t have any of their artwork hanging up in a museum somewhere?”
You smile softly. “I’ve never thought about it like that.”
“It’d be like saying I’m not a real athlete because I only play for my high school’s football team and not the NFL. Do you think that?”
You shake your head. “Of course not.”
He smiles. "There you have it, then."
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“So, it’s five minutes ‘til.”
You raise a brow in interest. “Until what?”
“Midnight,” he replies with a grin. 
“Happy New Year,” you say quietly.
He glances away, then back to you. “I, uh, I don’t mean for this to be interpreted as some sort of come-on or anything, but… I’d really like to kiss you at midnight.”
Your eyes flit between his nervously. “I don’t know…”
“Just a kiss between friends. I mean, complete fucking strangers kiss on this day every year, right? It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.”
Your brows knit together. “If I don’t? Listen, Nate, tonight has been nice. And I’ve really enjoyed—”
He cuts you off with a knowing smile. “I’m not asking you to go steady, sweetheart, I’m just offering you a kiss. We’re the only ones here. Nobody else has to know.”
He checks his phone again. “Two minutes.”
You chew your lip nervously. “So, if I say yes, do I need to worry about Maddy trying to assault me in the middle of the quad?”
He laughs lightly at that. “She’ll never know, swear to God. It’s not like we’re together right now anyway, and I don’t know that we ever will be again. I’m just trying not to think too much about her tonight.”
You rest your hands on your stomach and relent. “Okay, but just one kiss. Like a peck on the lips. Nothing more.”
He doesn’t speak his reply. Instead, he leans over you and lies his body atop your own.
Your heart skips in your chest at the feel of his heavy weight settled across your body. 
This is quickly turning into the strangest night ever. For you, at least.
He smooths hair away from your face, glances to his phone, then smiles. “Midnight.”
He leans down and presses his lips to your own.
And he gives you the very opposite of a peck. Instead, he tangles his fingers in your hair and spreads your lips open with his own before slipping his warm tongue gently inside your mouth and flicking the speared tip against yours.
Your body stiffens slightly, so he slides his free hand up your thigh before settling it against your hip, and he rubs soothing circles against it with the pad of his thumb.
He runs his tongue along your bottom lip before kissing you passionately once again.
It’s when you feel something hard pressing against your stomach that you break off the kiss and turn slightly away while laughing nervously.
“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he whispers before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
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Nate would never admit to it, but for the days that follow, New Year's Eve is nearly all he's able to think about.
Spending time with you had been nice. Different, even. Well...different to what time spent with Maddy had been like, at least.
It'd been calm, with simple, truthful conversation shared between the two of you. Honesty had seemed to flow from your tongue. And honesty is a rarity in his life.
It doesn't take long for him to come to the realization that he has a crush. Even if the term seems juvenile, it's what it is. A crush.
You're beautiful, kind, easy-going, sweet, and passionate about your adorable hobby. So, who can blame him for being unable to get you off of his mind?
He begins to wonder, before long, how different his life would be at current had he gotten with you sophomore year instead of Maddy.
But, if nothing else, he's finally free of her. To an extent...
She still has that damn disc, but he knows he'll figure out how to get it back eventually. In the meantime, he intends to keep getting to know you... As deeply as possible.
98 notes · View notes
magicshopaholic · 7 months ago
Text
Words Unsaid (Jungkook x OC)
Summary: Jungkook has something he wants to ask you, but the timing just never seems to sit right.
Pairing: Jungkook x OC
Genre: Fluff
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 7.3 K
Warnings: none
A/N: This took longer than expected to post (but a surprisingly short amount of time to write). Savour it, for the angst will be back in full force next fic :D Takes place a couple of weeks after Unfinished Business and can be read standalone.
Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive  @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)
Listen to: "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran
jungkook masterlist | main masterlist
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The sun is near setting when lunch comes to a natural end. Namjoon places his credit card on the bill out of habit and, somewhat conscious that it’s not just the two of them here, Jungkook drops his on top of it.
“All good, kid.” Namjoon good-naturedly flicks Jungkook’s credit card off the bill just before the waiter picks it up.
Feeling Lia’s eyes on him, vaguely amused, Jungkook feels his ears heat up and quickly pockets his credit card. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” he asks, desperate to change the topic.
“Not much.” He shrugs. “Probably pick up some stuff at this store we saw earlier today, then maybe a walk down the Han if it gets cooler…” He turns slightly as Kaya returns to her seat, fluffing out her hair a bit.
“Seoul has never been this warm, has it?” she remarks. “I’m glad I cut my hair before I came here.”
“It should rain soon,” answers Lia, in her accented English. While her grasp on the language hadn’t necessarily been a surprise to Jungkook, the way it sounded - and how much he liked it - definitely was. She hadn’t ever spoken much English around him, for there was never much of a need, but when Kaya visited and they’d finally met, Jungkook discovered he was obsessed with her English accent. It made her sound older, unattainable and - ironically – more Korean.
“Maybe it will,” says Namjoon, nodding and looking out the glass windows at the sunlight.
“Maybe it will while you’re walking down the Han river,” points out Jungkook. 
“Looking forward to it.”
“Oh, that reminds me - can we make a detour home before we head to the market?” Kaya asks him. “I need to pick up my power bank. My phone’s almost dead.”
Namjoon nods. “Sure. You guys need a ride?” he asks Jungkook and Lia.
“Oh -” They exchange a look, for they were dropped by a company car after Jungkook finished filming a promo. “Actually, yeah,” says Lia, nodding. “We also need to stop by, uh, Jungkook’s house for a minute. You’ll want to change, I guess?”
Jungkook nods mutely, his neck getting hot again. He avoids Namjoon’s eyes; the older member’s subtle questioning a couple of days ago, about how serious is this getting, had been one thing. That, coupled with the abrupt way he and Lia had stopped talking when Jungkook had returned from the men’s room earlier during lunch, made him uneasily conscious that something was still unsaid.
They head out of the restaurant, waiting until Namjoon’s car is brought out by the valet before ducking inside quickly, Kaya in the driver’s seat and Namjoon in the passenger seat next to her. Jungkook notices a few phones out in the open and pointed towards them as they drive away.
“See you tomorrow!” Lia waves at them as they drive away from the porch of Jungkook’s building in Hannam-dong, where his new penthouse sits tucked into the top floor. As the car disappears around a corner, both of them turn around and head inside together.
In the lift, Jungkook watches the numbers increase, his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The words are there, somewhere, in moments at the tip of his tongue and in others, so far away that they may as well be someone else’s.
“Hey.”
He’s jerked out of his reverie. “Yeah.”
Lia is looking at him, frowning slightly. “Everything okay? You’ve barely said two words since we left.”
“I’m fine,” he answers as the lift stops and they step out, the doors opening right in front of his apartment. “I just, uh…” He pats his pockets and pauses. “... forgot my keys. I think. Shit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she mutters easily, reaching into her small sling bag for her own keyring and selecting the shiniest one. “This is when it helps to have a spare set with someone else,” she points out.
Jungkook nods sheepishly and steps aside so she can unlock the door to his home. “Actually, Lia…” He takes a deep breath as Namjoon’s face swims to the forefront of his mind, the familiar raised eyebrow and chin tilted upward that, irritatingly knowing but unwilling to give him the answer. No, he would want Jungkook to come up with the answer himself. 
He clears his throat as Lia pauses. “Yeah?”
“Um, I was wondering -” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Just say it. Say it. He makes the mistake of glancing at her again, her raised eyebrows and - to his slight anxiety - hopeful expression.
Shit.
“Would you, um… do you think you would you like to…” 
Come on now, Jungkook, Namjoon would say sternly. Say it already.
“... try a beef bulgogi tonight? I know we usually do pizza on Sunday nights but I saw this recipe online and I really wanted to try it. Plus, we won’t even have to shop - we have that fillet in the freezer so part of the work is really already done, if you think about it…”
He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s only to try and distract himself from the annoyance at himself as well as the brief but clear disappointment in her expression. Her shoulders fall slightly and she bites her lip, turning back to the door and pushing it open halfway.
“Beef bulgogi sounds great,” she says finally, looking up at him after a moment’s hesitation, and giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”
He follows her inside, still deflated. Lia goes straight to the fridge for a bottle of cold water while he heads into his room, shedding his t-shirt on the way. Turning on the bathroom light, he grabs his facewash from the wall-mounted shelf, half-stocked with haircare products, face scrubs, masks, serums and a tub of scrunchies and claw clips. A Dior perfume he’d gifted her earlier this year was also there next to his own Calvin Klein cologne. 
Realising he’s been staring at her belongings for over a minute with emulsified facewash on his face, he quickly scrubs it off and hurries out, passing by her chest of drawers next to the closets. 
Jungkook wishes he wasn’t such a coward. He wishes he had the exact right words and that his mouth moved on its own to deliver the message to her. She’d helped him set up the apartment when he’d moved in last month; most of her belongings are here, she returns here more often than not after work, half the groceries in the pantry are stocked by her. She has a set of keys, she uses his extra parking space - but none of it matters as long as it’s still Jungkook’s house. 
In the kitchen, Lia is standing by the counter with a bowl of watermelon in front of her, scrolling on her phone. She looks up when he enters. 
“I cut the other half that was in the fridge,” she informs him. “Rest of it is inside.”
He swallows. “Thanks.”
Jungkook doesn’t know what he would do without her. The house feels far too big and empty when she isn’t around and he wishes there were some way for her to get that message without him having to spell it out.
But if you do spell it out, comes Namjoon’s voice again, what’s the worst that could happen.
She could say no and then I could die, he thinks, shuddering.
He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans over to examine the pink fruit. Lia raises an eyebrow and pops a piece into his mouth. 
“Wow. Sweet,” he comments, voice slightly muffled. 
She half-chuckles and nods, going back to her phone and taking a piece as well.
Say it. But is this really the moment? Does there need to be a moment? What would that moment even look like? What would she want that moment to -
“Kook,” says Lia, slowly placing her phone down. “I was thinking… I’ve been coming over here after work the last few days. And I’ll probably be here tomorrow as well, so…” She bites her lip.
“Yes,” whispers Jungkook breathlessly. If Lia were to ask the question - nothing like it. No chance of rejection, no scope for awkwardness. Of course, if any of the guys got wind of the fact that she had been the one to ask, they wouldn’t let him live it down, especially Jimin. Suddenly, he half-hopes she isn’t asking.
“Do you think it would be weird if, you know…”
Holy shit. Screw Jimin and his opinions. Despite a crappy first date a year ago, if this is really how far they’ve come since then, he should consider himself the luckiest man in the world. Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s heart begins to race. 
“… if I went home on Monday evening? It’s been a while and I have an important meeting on Tuesday and all my blazers are at home so in a way, I have to…”
Jungkook nods mutely, barely hearing her, for his heart is hammering so loudly he can hear it in his teeth. It occurs to him that Lia might have been anticipating the same question and subsequently felt the same disappointment, and it only serves to make him feel worse.
“… take my car, too. Jungkook?”
He looks up warily, irrationally worried his shame might be written on his forehead for her to see, possibly triggering her to pull the plug on this entire thing, this whole relationship, to save herself the embarrassment of dating a silly pop star who can’t string six words together -
“Hm?”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” he chokes. “Thanks for the, uh, the fruit.”
Lia raises her eyebrows, but there’s a flash of knowing in her eyes. Not wanting to decipher it, for there’s no telling where his mind will take him, he shakes his head slightly and leans forward, kissing her on the cheek.
It doesn’t end there. Later that evening, Jungkook is still reeling from his horrendous inability to pluck up the courage to ask his girlfriend a simple question. The general mood between them seems to have gone back to normal, somewhat, but it nags at the corner of his mind.
They are heading to the executive floor gym in his building, accessible only to the handful of residents on the top floor, when another opportunity seemingly presents itself.
It’s a glorious workout in one of the best gyms in the country; in fact, Jungkook is rather upfront about it being one of the main reasons he chose to buy a property in this particular building in Hannam-dong. Towards the end of a particularly difficult set of reps on the bench press station, Jungkook looks up to see a face, upside down and hovering above him.
“Shit!” he gasps, gripping the barbell tightly so it doesn’t fall on him. 
Eunwoo grins. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”
“I could’ve died,” points out Jungkook, sitting up and giving him a friendly dap. “No, Lia wanted to work out, too, and it’s been a, uh… somewhat stressful day.”
“Yeah?” Eunwoo, also sweating and glowing, looks around the gym with his hands on his hips. “Lia is here? Oh, there she is…” He nods at the treadmills where she’s jogging fast, AirPods in and the rest of the world shut out.
They chat for a bit about nothing in particular, catching their breath. Somewhere during the conversation, while they’re at the water station and filling up tiny glasses with fruit-infused ice water, Jungkook wonders if the time has truly come to pick another’s brain. Eunwoo is a good friend and they’ve known each other a while, but it would be the first time he’s actively confided in someone else about his love life. From his experience, it could go either way.
While he’s pondering this, Eunwoo nods and flashes a smile at something over his shoulder.
“Hey, guys.” Lia walks over and pours herself a glass. Her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed lusciously. The ends of her high ponytail stick to her damp collarbones and Jungkook bites his lip without thinking, ridiculously attracted to her at the moment.
“Noona, do you agree with JK’s plan of building a home gym?” Eunwoo asks, seamlessly continuing their discussion. “It’s going to be so much maintenance of equipment,” he tells him, shaking his head.
“Really?” Lia turns to Jungkook, frowning. “When did that happen? I thought you were happy with this gym.”
“I am - and I’m not planning on building a home gym,” he clarifies, suddenly anxious with both sets of eyes on him. “I was just discussing the merits of possibly having one.”
“Such as?”
“Well… privacy, for one. I know the building has good security but they're also fairly lax with allowances,” he points out, not wanting to specify the incident last week that had prompted this train of thought, when he was half-certain he’d spotted someone pointing their phone at him and Lia. 
“Allowances? You mean guests?” Eunwoo wrinkles his nose. “They don’t allow guests in here.”
“Yes, they do.”
“No, they don’t. They don’t allow anybody but residents in the gym.”
There’s a brief but painful pause following his words. 
“They do, actually,” says Lia.
“I don’t think so.”
“Yes, they do,” adds Jungkook tightly, glaring at Eunwoo and moving his eyes deliberately in Lia’s direction, hoping to God he’ll drop it.
Eunwoo frowns slowly, apparently working this out. “What?” he mutters, shaking his head at Jungkook. “No, I’m just saying… wait, how are you so sure?”
“Because I’m technically a guest,” says Lia lightly.
“You are?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrows. “But I thought you were - oh.” To Jungkook’s horror, a blush creeps up his friend’s face. Lia goes still next to him and it takes every ounce of Jungkook’s strength to not turn in her direction.
For the next few seconds or so, the three of them stand there in silence, scarcely making a movement. 
“Excuse me? May I?”
“Yes! Of course, of course -” Jungkook immediately blurts out while Eunwoo practically trips over himself to take a step back and make way for another patron. 
“I’m going to stretch and cool down for a bit,” says Lia, touching Jungkook’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”
“Oh, I still have a bit to finish,” he answers, a bit apologetically. “I was going to box for a bit before ending with cardio.”
“That’s fine, I'll just head back h- uh, to your place and shower… if that’s okay?”
Not least because she hasn’t needed to ask such a question in months, Jungkook nods wordlessly. She gives him a small smile and moves away, and Jungkook watches her leave before turning back around to see Eunwoo giving him a look.
“Shut up,” he mutters.
Eunwoo chuckles as they head over to the boxing bag. “Man, I am so sorry about that. I really thought you’d asked her to move in with you - I thought part of the reason you bought a new house was because you wanted her to move in. You were asking about bathrooms with his-and-her sinks, man. What happened?”
“Okay, first of all, I only asked if you’ve ever seen one in real life - not that I wanted one,” he corrects immediately, strapping on his gloves while Eunwoo gets behind the bag, ready to hold it. 
“And the other thing?”
“I’m working on it,” mutters Jungkook, going into stance and holding his hands up. “I just want to do it right. Make sure it’s a good time, that I’m not hurrying anything - that kind of thing.”
Eunwoo hums and nods. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t seem freaked out. If anything, she looked a little annoyed.”
Jungkook freezes. “She did? She looked annoyed - wait, really? Are you serious?”
His eyes widen. “Wh- no. Not - not annoyed like that. Not like a pissed off annoyed, more like a… like a chill annoyed.” When Jungkook says nothing, he shakes his head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Maybe it is too soon. Or maybe it isn’t,” he amends quickly. “What do I know? You know my last three relationships lasted, like, four months each - so I’m probably not the best person to be giving you any kind of advice.”
“That’s the most airtight thing you’ve said so far,” mutters Jungkook. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Waiting a moment for Eunwoo to grip the bag, he cocks his elbow back and punches it.
Despite his deadly faux pas, Eunwoo had inadvertently provided Jungkook with a rather helpful bit of direction. Perhaps it is time for him to lean on a friend for advice, but Eunwoo was also right that he is not one of them, not with his flighty flings and lack of depth in them. The advice matters and so does the friend, prompting Jungkook to ask himself: which of his friends is the expert on the opposite of short-term flings?
“Namjoon hyung!”
Namjoon stops in his tracks at the sound of his name and turns, waiting for Jungkook to catch up with him. 
“Oh, thanks,” says Jungkook, taking a cigarette from the pack Namjoon offers him and leaning forward so he can light it. “Thanks for getting us the evening off, by the way.”
“Kaya is leaving this weekend,” is all Namjoon says in response, shrugging.
“Right.” Jungkook nods, taking a drag and blowing it out, wondering briefly if he should care that they might be seen smoking right outside the Hybe building. “Won’t this make you a couple minutes late, though? If you want to make the best of the next few days?”
Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t want to smoke inside the house.”
“Uh-huh. Speaking of which…” He exhales, suddenly nervous. “I was hoping for some advice.” He clears his throat. “Regarding… relationships.”
Namjoons raises his eyebrows but says nothing else. “M-hm.”
“I have reason to believe,” he begins slowly, “that Lia might want me to ask her to move in with me.”
“Okay.”
Jungkook pauses, searching his leader’s face for a hint. Finding none, he continues. “Well… I want to ask her. But I also don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she wants me to ask her. And I also don’t want to mess it up.”
“How would you mess it up?”
“I don’t know… maybe I’m completely off track and she doesn’t want to move in with me at all? Maybe she thinks it’s too soon?”
Namjoon nods, hearing him out. Then he shakes his head. “Well, personally, I don’t think that’s the case.”
“What isn’t? You think she wants to move in?” Jungkook’s momentarily relief is interrupted by a horrifying thought. “Oh, my God - did she say something to you? Yesterday, at brunch, when I went to the men’s room?”
“Jungkook, you were gone for two minutes.”
He’s about to argue but stops himself. He knows Lia and she is hardly the type to secretly vent her feelings to his friends behind his back, hoping it will get back to him. No, she’s more straightforward than that.
Somewhat satisfied, he takes a different turn. “Okay, let’s get down to it, then. How did you ask Kaya to move in?”
“Well…” Namjoon frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.”
“You… what?” Jungkook squints. “Wait, so… you didn’t ask? You both just knew, telepathically, when to start living together?” he asks incredulously, thinking privately that it could just be believable.
“No,” says Namjoon patiently, chuckling again and flicking some ash off his cigarette. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t have to. Where else is she supposed to live when she comes to Seoul? Where am I supposed to live when I go to see her?”
“Yeah… okay, but… well, would you say you live together?” he presses. “Or do you just, like, crash at each other’s place when you visit?”
“Well, we definitely don’t crash at each other’s place,” he mutters. “Maybe we did right in the beginning? I guess I’d say we live apart, but it’s only because we have to. I don’t know - when she came to Seoul for work last year while I was in service, she stayed at Hannam even though her aunt lives in the city, too.” He shrugs. “If that helps.”
“Huh.” Jungkook considers this. “So, like, do you guys ‘go home’ or do you go back to ‘your place’?”
“Home,” he answers casually, not skipping a beat. “Even her apartment is home. ‘Home’ is what you make it, to a large extent. It’s a place of comfort - an apartment is only part of that,” he says wisely. “I feel more at home in her studio apartment in London with her than at Hannam by myself. The people make the home - and that’s for you to decide.”
Jungkook stares, feeling his cigarette burn away in his hand. “That’s really not the kind of thing I’m looking for, hyung,” he states, before dropping his face in his hand.
Namjoon clicks his tongue and stubs his cigarette on the tray atop the trash can next to him. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go about it logically: she’s been your girlfriend for six or seven months now, you bought a new place which is significantly bigger than your old one and she’s in her thirties, meaning she’s most likely thinking long-term.” 
Jungkook gazes at Namjoon’s raised eyebrows, quite certain he’s meant to pick up some meaning out of this. “So…”
“So… if you’re worried she might say no…”
“Chances are… she probably won’t?”
Namjoon grins and nods. “Exactly. Just be yourself, be genuine, be honest - and remember you’re both together for a reason. And I think - I think - she has a thing for you, too,” he adds seriously.
“One can only hope,” he mutters, albeit slightly mollified. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”
Namjoon observes him - for too long. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something that makes Jungkook’s stomach jolt unpleasantly, but at the last second, he shakes his head.
“Impossible to mess it up. Honestly,” he says reassuringly, and Jungkook almost believes him. “It’s a part of the journey and if you think she’s expecting it, just take the plunge. Don’t add unnecessary pressure by trying to make it perfect.”
While the last bit simply isn’t in Jungkook’s DNA, he nods anyway. 
“Damn it.” 
Lia doesn’t look up from the email she’s writing, despite Dal’s repeated exclamations from the kitchen. Finally, he sticks his head out around the door.
“Did you know the faucet is leaking?”
“Yes,” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.
“And did you know it’s dripping out of the sink zone and onto the floor?”
“Yeah?”
“And did you know it’s fucking disgusting?”
Lia sighs and finally turns her head to glance at him. “Yes, I know. I mopped it up this morning.”
Dal steps out, frowning. “So this much water leaked in the last six hours?” When Lia nods, he sighs heavily and trudges into the living room, falling onto the sofa. “I suppose we can text the landlord but I don’t know what good that will do.”
“Probably as much as it did when we told him about the seepage in the bathroom ceiling.”
“Yeah. Didn’t realise the kind of shoulder strength you need to baste upwards.” A moment later, he chuckles. “Helped that there were three of us there, though. Jungkook was really looking for any excuse to be around you back then, wasn’t he?”
Without meaning to, Lia feels a smile creep up her face at the memory. “It was cute,” she says, slightly defensive. “And we really needed the extra hands, especially to clean up.”
“Oh, sure.” There’s a comfortable silence, the only sound being the clicking of Lia’s keyboard. “Speaking of,” he speaks, and his tone is slightly different, “I’m surprised to see you here.”
Lia doesn’t look up, but she’s certain she knows where he’s going with this. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. You haven’t been around much.”
“You think so?”
“M-hm. In fact, I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out or something and I missed the memo.”
“You were still paying only half the rent, though, weren’t you?”
“Lia.”
“‘Sup.”
From the corner of her eye, she sees a movement and ducks out of habit.
“Lee-lee,” he says again, and she finally meets his gaze.
“I know what you’re getting at, and no,” she says dryly, “no updates on that front. I’m still your roommate for the foreseeable future.”
Dal raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”
Lia turns back to her laptop but doesn’t resume her typing. “What?”
“What what?”
“You’re still looking at me.”
“No. I’m just looking in your general direction.”
She gives him a look. “Just say it.”
“I thought you were moving in with Jungkook.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because he told me last time he came over that he wanted you to move in with him.”
Lia scoffs. “No way did he say that. Liar.”
“Fine, he didn’t use those exact words,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But he just happened to mention that his new place is bigger, that the gym is fantastic, that it has a really good running trail or something…”
“Maybe he was just making conversation?”
“... and how much closer it is to the Hybe office.”
He works at Hybe, too, technically. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t deflect anymore; Dal will see right through it. She sighs and puts her laptop away.
“What do you want me to say?” she asks steadily. “We aren’t living together. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I’m not saying it is, at all.” He holds up his hands. “Do you want to, though?”
Lia is silent for a moment. “He needs to ask first. But… yeah, I guess. Could be fun. We’ll save on a lot of fuel.”
“Ooh, stop, I’m swooning.”
She flashes him an embarrassed sort of smile. “You know what I mean. We basically do live together already - but this is a big deal for Jungkook. He’s never done the long-term relationship, adult couple milestone thing before. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.”
Dal nods thoughtfully. “Well, hopefully it’ll go better than your last adult couple milestone thing.”
She snorts, covering her face. “Hey, to be fair, I did move in with him,” she points out. “Kind of.”
“You lasted less than a month before you were back here.”
“Yeah. God, he was such a manchild. Can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.”
“I told you he had an asshat kind of face. But you didn’t listen. Didn’t he have a shrine to his ex-girlfriend in the bathroom or something?”
“It was a couple of bottles of her shampoo and lotion, not a shrine,” she corrects him, “but, sort of. He was so blown away when I asked him to get rid of it - like, sue me, I don’t want to live with my boyfriend and sentimental haircare products belonging to his ex. It just goes to show, you never know enough about your partner until you actually share a living space together.”
“You think there’s more to Jungkook? Because I like him for you, honestly. But he seems to be a more…” Dal grimaces, trying to find the word, “... what you see is what you get… kind of person.”
“That’s a good thing,” she remarks. “Means there’s no lying, no games. None of that shit.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Well, it’s good you know what you want. How long are we planning to wait for him to pop the question?”
“We are not waiting for anything. I, on the other hand…” 
It’s a good question, unfortunately, one that Lia has deliberately tried not to think about because there’s simply no correct answer.
“... will take things as they come.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
She narrows her eyes at her oldest friend, recognising both teasing masking genuine concern. “I’m not going to pressure Jungkook. And I’m not going to get my hopes up either,” she states, trying to ignore the quiet tugging at her heart and standing up, stretching.
“Hey, just say the word and I will -“ Dal makes a flailing kind of gesture and flexes his triceps, “- whip him into shape.”
“Oh, really? Not only will it probably be evenly matched, but who’s going to help you both carry cartons of beer into each other’s houses if you’re both maimed?” She taps her temple sarcastically.
“Well, you’ll be a resident in one of our houses at any given time so I guess we’ll be looking at you.” Dal shrugs in satisfaction as Lia chuckles and starts heading inside her bedroom, considering a shower before bed.
“Oi, Lia.” 
Lia turns in her doorway, recognising the subtle change in tone once again. It wasn’t surprising that Dal and Jungkook got along easily enough; despite her boyfriend’s initial reservations, most of which were based on Dal’s gender and inopportune timing, he had eventually moved past it to begin actually enjoying his company. Oh, he would never admit it, but Lia had woken up more than once in her own bed, alone, while hearing two male voices laughing in the living room with the television on.
As for Dal, the only thing he had needed to say was “Lee-lee, for once, you’ve found a good boy.”
Therefore, while Lia prefers to handle her relationships herself, she recognises the value of her oldest friend’s opinion.
“I just want to let you know,” he begins seriously, and she feels the muscles in her face go slack. He bites his lip. “I just wanted to let you know,” he repeats, “that if Jungkook has a shrine to his ex in his house, you can always move back in here.”
There’s relief, and Lia doesn’t want to admit there’s relief. “Shut up,” she mutters, turning back around as Dal laughs at his own joke behind her.
It’s not the greatest comfort, but Lia uses it as such after that. Worst case, I move back in with Dal, she thinks. We stay roommates until we’re eighty, when either I die first from stress about work or he does driving his car like a maniac. Jungkook brings a carton of beer to the funeral and shares it with whichever one of us is still alive.
It’s a mildly depressing train of thought, especially when she imagines her eighty year old self heading back to her apartment while seventy-seven year old Jungkook, in his infinite wisdom, still hasn’t asked her to move in with him.
Nearly a week later, Lia has successfully kept her desires to herself, while Jungkook has continued trying to pretend he isn’t thinking about it just as much.
“Remind me again why we’re going to this club?” she asks him as they walk to his car in the basement parking. “It doesn’t really sound like your scene.”
“It isn’t,” he admits. “But the DJ tonight is a friend of a friend… of an acquaintance, who’s also kind of an ex-colleague.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t normally go but he helped me out during the production of my debut album and I accidentally told him I owed him.”
“Ah. Mistake number one.”
“It might be. You look quite club-ready for someone who doesn’t really enjoy clubs either,” he remarks, playfully smacking her backside. “Leather pants and everything.”
“Faux leather,” she corrects, leaning over and bumping his hip with hers. “I figured I may as well look the part of a popstar’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds after a moment, as they climb into the car and begin strapping in, “it’s the only party outfit I have at your place.”
Predictably, Jungkook freezes for a moment before clumsily buckling himself in. He doesn’t meet her eyes and swallows as he looks ahead.
“By the way, I hear the gin martinis at this club are to die for,” he declares, completely transparent. “Did you know, the martini is one of the top five drinks people order on a first date?”
Abrupt subject change coupled with a random fact that doesn’t sound completely true; Jungkook is nervous. It’s exasperating and endearing all at once.
“That’s… interesting. Maybe you should’ve invited your single friends tonight. Or if this DJ is an ex-colleague, at least the ones in your group.”
“What, all two of them?”
“Isn’t it three?”
“I don’t think so.” Jungkook shrugs as they pull out of Hannam Hill. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Yoongi hyung isn’t very forthcoming about his dating life and I’m too afraid to ask.”
Lia chortles as they turn into the main road, reaching for her party clutch for her phone, when she realises…
“Oh, no,” she mutters under breath.
“What?”
“I, uh…” She bites her lip, internally swearing at herself. “I was moving stuff from my regular bag to the clutch and I forgot… you know what, can we make a quick detour to my apartment? It’s on the way.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is. If you take a right after the signal then you can take the parallel road to the church at the end of my street.”
“That’s not the same road - and come on,” he whines, his shoulders falling. “I don’t want to take a detour. What did you even forget? Power bank? Because my phone is fully charged.”
“It’s not a power bank - look, it’s kind of important, Jungkook. It’ll take, like, five extra minutes.”
“But -”
“Kook!”
“What? What did you even forget that’s so important? Is it make-up or something? Because you look -”
“It’s tampons, Jungkook.”
“It’s -”
“Tampons,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to stop at a drugstore because they may not have the exact brand that I use and most of the others chafe… down there.”
There’s a few seconds of silence while Jungkook stares out of the windshield as the car zooms down the road, his ears turning red.
“Which signal was it again?”
True to her word, they reach her three-storey apartment building a few minutes later and jog up the stairs together.
“I swear, I just need to pick up a couple of extras,” she promises him. “The last time I was caught without any on me and then I had to borrow one and it was just the worst time I - oh, my God!”
Lia gasps as she stops in her tracks in the doorway of her apartment, Jungkook right next to her. 
“Is that -”
“Water,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Shit, it came into the living room? I thought we fixed that damn leak,” she mutters. She places her hands on her hips and looks up at Jungkook.
“Well?”
Jungkook looks blank. “Well… what?”
“Well… I’m going to have to wade in there,” she says slowly, already dreading it. “Do you want to come?”
“Ordinarily, I would love to because that sounds so fun, but these are Balenciaga.” He raises his right leg to show her his shoes, mimicking her position until Lia looks away.
“Alright. Wait here then,” she tells him, before gingerly placing one heeled foot into the water and cringing in anticipation. It reaches ankle deep, missing the hem of her pants only due to the height of her heels. With no specific attachment to her shoes, she takes a couple of more hesitant steps.
“Ugh, I can hear the faucet dripping from here,” she grumbles. “Sure you want to just wait out there?”
“Totally. You’re doing great, though, baby.” He grimaces as she walks further in. “Is it cold? It looks cold.”
“No, it’s room temperature. I’m just glad it hasn’t reached the sofa or the cushions or anything in the - whoa!” Lia grabs the arm of the chair beside her as she slips, thankfully saving her ankles as her knee breaks the fall.
There’s a sound of splashing before Jungkook is right next to her a second too late. “Shit, you okay?”
“Uh, yeah. No injuries, I think.” She twists to see him kneeling next to her. “What happened to your Balenciagas?”
It seems to have occurred to him only now. “Oh…” He looks down at his shoes, now submerged. “I can try blow drying them, probably?”
“Probably.” She tries to hide a smile before giving up. “Take them off before they get any more damaged, though.”
He takes her advice this time and they both rid themselves of their shoes, tossing them on the chair before splashing their way into the kitchen.
Jungkook whistles. “Wow, that’s some leak,” he remarks, following her as she falls to her knees to get a good look at the thin but steady stream of water spilling from a crack in the pipe. “Is this the only leak?” he wonders out loud before pressing his hand against the crack so the water suddenly stops.
“No, there’s a small one here, too,” she answers, squinting at something on the other side of the pipe, a little higher up. “It’s only a few drops out of this one but it’s still bad enough.”
“Maybe we can -” Jungkook grunts and tugs at the pipe, “- wrench it into place? To block this crack?”
“Doubtful. It’s a really old pipe, too, so I’m afraid it might break.”
“It’s metal - can metal break?”
“I mean… yeah? I guess? Look, it’s all rusted up here.”
“Oh, yeah…”
In his effort to look, Jungkook’s hand slips off the crack and the flow of the water resumes. 
“Okay, this can’t go on - we need to block this for now so we can get rid of this fucking flood,” she decides, noting in worry how the water level is slowly rising. “And I’m calling the landlord tomorrow and giving him a piece of my mind.”
“Um -” Jungkook looks around from his position by the pipe. “We have a towel, some flour and stuff… maybe we stick some dough onto it?”
“Worth a shot but I don’t know if it’ll hold till tomorrow. Maybe we should try moving the pipe,” she admits, holding the top of it and wondering if it’ll work.
“Okay, let’s do that. Worst case, we find a plastic or metal box, cut it in just the right dimensions to cover the crack and fix it around the pipe.”
“Worst case.” 
Jungkook waves her over and they grip the pipe together. “If this goes south, just remember that I love you.”
Despite the chaos and the fact that her faux leather pants are damp and disgusting, Lia snorts. “Shut up, you dork. Come on, let’s do this.” Both of them pull the top part towards the lower one to try and close the gap.
“A little to the left, come on…”
“It’s - not - moving -” Lia bites her lip and jerks the pipe back, accidentally slipping again and falling back onto her boyfriend. The jolt makes Jungkook tip over and the pipe twists on the rust, bursting.
“Oh, my - “ Jungkook’s words are cut off when a jet of water hits him square in the face. Lia gasps and reaches for the pipe as he fumbles, sputtering, and lunges towards the pipe to turn it away.
“Jungkook, no! It’ll break if you -” 
But Lia is cut off as well and almost knocked backwards by the force of the water. It’s everywhere now; her clothes, her hair - she’s fully drenched. Next to her, Jungkook looks like he’s been dunked into a lake, his long thick hair sticking to his forehead.
“Take cover!” he yells, pulling open a cabinet behind him with one hand and yanking something out, while the other hand covers the jet of water uselessly. He replaces it with the lid of a cooking pan and tosses her another one which splashes into the water next to her.
“Thanks! I - Jungkook!” She brandishes the utensil while trying to dodge the water. “It’s a sieve!”
“What?”
“It has holes!”
“I can’t see! Wait -” He crawls towards the cabinet but slips midway, swearing loudly. 
“Careful!” She ducks and tries to get to the pipe but feels him grip her forearm and pull her back.
“You’ll hurt yourself!” he yells, handing her another pan. “Jesus - how did you guys let this stupid faucet get this bad?”
“I told you - our landlord is a jackass who ghosts us if we bring up fixtures!”
“Well -” Jungkook pauses, wincing a little as the water continues to ricochet off the pan he’s holding up. “In that case, this is probably as good a time as any to ask you this, but do you want to move in with me?”
Lia almost swallows a mouthful of tap water. “What?”
“Just - I mean, this apartment is unlivable!” he says loudly. “And I’m a much better landlord! And also -” He gags and spits out some water, “- I love you and all!” He shrugs awkwardly, drenched to the bone with his oversized t-shirt sticking to his shoulders and chest.
Lia tries - she really tries - to keep a straight face, to attempt to understand what goes on in Jungkook’s head. But it’s a lost cause, for at the end of the day, whatever it is, it just works. Through the irritation at her landlord and the general shock of being waterboarded by a broken pipe, she sees it. A shine in his doe eyes, a hint of nervousness. 
She doesn’t realise immediately why the water hits her suddenly with force or why Jungkook’s eyes widen belatedly.
“What are you doing? The water is - oh.” The anticipation turns into the beginnings of a smile when he works out why she has knee walked all the way towards him and he stands on his knees as well, just as she reaches him and places her arms around his neck, and kisses him.
When she pulls away, he’s grinning. “That’s a yes?”
“That’s a thank God you finally asked.” 
Jungkook nods sheepishly. “I wanted it to be perfect, honestly. I was just waiting for the right time and -” He sighs, shaking his head so droplets of water fall from his hair.
“You know what? I think this, unexpected as it was, is pretty perfect,” she says honestly. “So… I guess that’s a yes,” she clarifies, meeting him in a kiss once again.
There’s a muffled sound and then a splash, followed by a gasp.
“Oh, my God! What the fuck?”
Jungkook jerks away, pursing his lips. “As long as he is never allowed in our house,” he declares, glaring and pointing in the direction of the living room.
She gives him a look. “Pretty sure you’ll crack before I do on that front,” she guesses, just as Dal appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking incredulous.
“What the fuck happened in here?”
“What do you think? That damn faucet,” she snaps, pointing at it. “This is the landlord’s problem now - he and his insurance can handle it.”
“I agree, but - God, are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, we were using lids…” Jungkook picks his up and places it in front of the stream of water, much more unfazed about it now than he was before. 
“Lids? Why didn’t you guys just turn off the water?” Taking a long step across the flooded kitchen floor, he reaches for a panel behind the left-most cabinet and twists a lever - and the water stops.
Speechless, Lia turns to look at Jungkook who is looking back at her with equal dismay. “We thought of dough before we thought of turning off the water,” he mutters, shaking his head.
“And we’re taking it to the grave,” she replies, squeezing his hand.
He’s wet, his designer clothes ruined - but Jeon Jungkook is glowing. A moment later, he squeezes her hand back.
“Deal.”
Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)
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pearlfeline · 3 months ago
Text
a peter parker halloween
peter parker x spider!fem!reader
word count: 1.6k
a/n: i quite like this actually lol this is the first thing i’ve written where i think i ended things quite organically however since i like it so much please let me know if you’d like a part two because i’m willing to try but also would like some ideas! thanks for reading! happy halloween!!
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Like many, Peter enjoys Halloween. The problem is, Spider-Man does not. He liked it at first. All the cute kids dressing as him and how proud it made him. Nowadays, his costume is so mass produced that there’s people in the subway wearing his face with no pants on.
Patrolling on Halloween kind of felt like he was being mocked. Also wearing what he would consider his uniform on a day where he’s supposed to literally wear anything else wasn’t as exciting.
Peter’s schedule was always scattered but never to his disadvantage. He could afford to be spontaneous by getting slammed by a bus and make it to class in twenty minutes.
This Halloween night, he had gotten his classes out of the way, finished his extra-curriculars, and submitted all his homework right before it was time for his nightly sweep across New York.
Peter reached his front door, weakly shoving his key in spots that weren’t the keyhole.
You hear his keys jingle and rush to the door, unlocking it yourself.
“There he is!” You teased. “Happy Halloween! Who are you dressed as? Percy Jackson?”
Peter smiles tiredly. “Thanks for cleaning my room but you really didn’t have to.”
“Well it would've been mostly for May, considering she’s picked up after you for years.”
Peter sheepishly picks up his backpack that he tossed on the floor.
He notices you brought your Adventure Time blanket and draped it over the couch. There was fresh popcorn and you left your stuffed turtle posed to look like he was eating from the bowl.
“What’s this stuff?” Peter didn’t wait for a response but rather walked to his room to suit up for the night.
You waited for him to come back to the living room before giving him an answer.
“It’s a set up. For a lazy Halloween night in watching scary movies.”
“Lucky you.” He chuckled.
“No. Lucky you.” You corrected, grabbing his suit from over his shoulder.
“Since I know how you usually get worried on Halloween because people like to be irresponsible and sometimes just plain evil, I thought maybe I could give you the night off.” You tug on the collar on your shirt, exposing your suit underneath.
Peter gives you an incredulous look.
“Oh and the room cleaning thing wasn’t real I hope you know. White lie.” You added.
“..Yeah it’s still kinda messy in there.” Peter scratched the back of his neck.
“Understatement of the year.” You mumbled.
“Y/N.. I can’t just let you go do that alone if anything I’ll come with you.” Peter reaches for his mask in your hand.
You groaned.
“Stop being selfless just for tonight.” You pleaded with your eyes. “I can handle this! I’m just as cool and possibly cooler than you!”
“Fine.” Peter hangs his head and made his way to the couch.
“Hell yeah. Okay, I left a sandwich in the fridge that I picked up before I got here. Soooo have fun with that and enjoy your movie.” You pull off your shirt and pants and shoved them in your bag.
Peter gives an appreciative smile, watching you pull your mask over your face and leap out of his fire escape.
What you did was a very sweet thing. Peter was finally able to do something Halloweeny on Halloween. He picked out a few movies to watch in order, but two movies in he was hyper aware he was alone in a dark apartment. Excluding the stuffed turtle he was talking to.
“The CGI sucks.” He muttered, squishing the turtle close to his face, his eyes locked onto the screen.
What if he saw a scary figure in the dark? And if he got up to get the light would it move and attack him? Would he see something he doesn’t want to?
He peered over the couch to stare at the darkness in every corner of the dimly lit living room.
Peter cautiously paused the movie and quickly climbed onto the wall, scattering to the light switch before flicking it on.
He landed back on his feet and still felt upset.
Not only was being alone scary but even if it wasn’t it was just sad. He could’ve complained about the bad CGI to you instead of that little turtle.
You handled your patrol pretty well. Not much was happening except one little kid got separated from his group and didn’t want to walk back home alone. He gave you a piece of candy as a thank you.
As you sat on the edge of a building, you took a bite of your sandwich you packed for the night, watching the busy streets below.
Swoosh. A figure lands behind you and sets your stuffed turtle next to you.
“Timmy? Peter why are you here?” You were muffled by bread in your mouth.
Peter sat beside you and unwrapped his sandwich.
You tuck the turtle in your arms so he doesn’t fall off the ledge and give Peter a look.
“It’s… lonely back there. Plus, I got all the Halloween celebration I needed. I’m ready to get back at it now.”
You stare at Peter with a suspicious expression.
“You can just say the movie scared you.” You took another bite and swung your feet.
“C’mon can’t I just help you? I thought I was selfless?” He smirked proudly.
“You would never leave Timmy Turtle to fend for himself in a paranormal situation! You brought him because you’re scared of the monsters!” You pointed an accusing finger at him.
Peter lifts his mask up half way, taking a bite of his sandwich to avoid confrontation.
“It wasn’t a monster it was a spirit out for revenge.” He sighed.
“Mhm.” You rolled your eyes.
“Busy night?” He asked.
You shake your head. “Oh, but this kid gave me a KitKat.” You dig in your bag to find it.
“Dessert.” You tap it on your temple like you were being clever.
Eventually, you both finish your sandwiches and split the chocolate.
“Is this gonna be a lesson later about how I don’t need to patrol every Halloween night like this?”Peter crosses his legs and accepts his fate.
You shake your head. “No. I mean, you shouldn’t be overworking yourself like that. But, if no one was here tonight, that kid would be going home alone and probably super scared.”
“And that’s the best case scenario, you never know what’ll happen.” You added.
You jokingly punch Peter in the in the shoulder. “You’re a hero Peter. I just thought you needed some rest.”
“Thanks Y/N.” He chomps on his half of the KitKat and leans back, the palms of his hands supporting his weight.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed.
“I should let you go out more often. It’s not that I don’t trust you I just…” Peter trailed off.
“I don’t want you to get hurt is all.” Peter turns to you.
You shrug. “That’s part of the job. But yeah I understand.”
“Though, I’m not opposed to helping you out more. The kid that I helped today called me spider sidekick.”
Peter snorts. “He’s not far off.” Peter pretends to stretch and flexes his muscles very unsubtly.
“Uh, I prefer apprentice and hopefully later on, partner.” You regret your choice of words as soon as ‘partner’ came out of your mouth.
Peter’s grin twitches a little, giving a small opened mouth smile that screamed “No, it’s okay I know what you meant. Don’t be embarrassed. Let’s pretend that never happened!”
Instead, he gives a small laugh.
“You’re already a great partner.”
You give Peter a short glance. That damn mask. What does that mean? Those dumb bug eyes were unreadable. The only thing you could see was his smile.
“A-Am I getting promoted?” You joked.
Peter takes his mask off. There they are. His eyes.
Were you crazy or was he being really forward all of the sudden?
“Truthfully Y/N, you’ve proven yourself a long time ago. You’re just as selfless as you think I am. I just needed to make sure… Even if that meant stalling the inevitable.” Peter takes a dig at himself.
“You’re pretty much faster than me at this rate, but stronger? Eh, I dunno.” He teases.
“I’m sorry I was being stubborn. You’ve been a partner for a long time. Training is officially over since tonight.”
Your heart sinks a little. Of course. He was just talking about work. Peter never flirts with you, he’s never done that before. Plus, this is a serious thing it’s never about flirting.
“Thanks Peter. You’re a real good mentor.”
Peter raises an eyebrow. “Man, I thought you’d be more excited.”
“No! No. I am excited it’s just.. It’s nice to hear you care about my safety and all that. Nice that you trust me with sharing this… duty.” You clear your throat.
Peter nods, satisfied.
“It’s hard.” He repositions to sit crisscrossed.
“But I know you can do it. And… sorry for making you go out here when it’s nothing happened. I swear I trust you to do the crazy dangerous things too.”
You nodded. “I know. But you didn’t make me do anything. This was just a favor I wanted to do for you.”
“Happy Halloween.” You smiled.
“Happy Halloween Y/N.” Peter returns the smile. He knew this whole thing was a lot for you to adjust to. The silence he created was nice. Not awkward like it used to be. He watched as you curiously peer over the busy street in fascination. He thinks to himself that every night is going to be like this for you from now on. Like it was for him. Maybe the company would do him some good.
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