#and she says yeah well I’d be happy to pay you

[angel-derangement]

I must not kill myself I must not kill myself I must not kill myself I must not kill myself I must not kill myself

[skzdarlings]

birthday girl ; skz ; seungmin x reader

requested by anonymous: “You keep your hands where they are or I’ll tie them up” with Seungmin + requested by anonymous: ❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜ is SO seungmin I can’t 😭 + requested by @sealovesbts : ❛ is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them? ❜ x Seungmin djjdjjdjd 🫣

pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: friends to lovers. boy next door!seungmin, stripper!seungmin. reader is kinda vanilla but gets a couple kinks unlocked: stripping, some power play, seungmin giving orders and her following it, having sex in privacy but a public venue overall. word count: 4100 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

You open the door and jump, startled to find Seungmin already standing there with his hand raised to knock.  He also looks surprised but he doesn’t shriek like you do.  You were already jittery before the jump-scare.   

“Seungmin! Sorry!”  You put a hand over your heart.  “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I can see that.”  He speaks in his usual dry tone but smiles a lopsided smile. 

Kim Seungmin lives in your neighbourhood.  You have been amicable a long time so you like to consider him a friend as well.  He is an admittedly private person and his personality can be brash, but you find charm in his quirky cheekiness.  He is reliable whenever you need a hand.    

He is dressed in a hoodie and jeans which is not unusual; he is not very flashy.  His bangs sweep his forehead and he smiles a wide, boxy smile as he hands you a gift bag. 

“Happy birthday, neighbour,” he says. 

“Oh my goodness,” you say, flustered.  “Seungmin!  You didn’t have to!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m the greatest,” he quips.   While you open the present, he asks, “I guess you’re going out?  You’re all dressed up.” 

“Oh, um, yes.”  You feel shy as he looks at you.

“You look good,” he says.

It makes you even more flustered.  You are dressed a little sleeker and sexier than usual.  Your sister has arranged your birthday party but you do not know where, only that she said to dress for fun.  You are not great with surprises and your sister is a little wild, hence your nerves, but you have decided to leave your comfort zone for one night. 

You were not expecting to run into your neighbour, friend, and crush. 

Because, yes, you like Seungmin.  A lot.  Seungmin is very modest, low-key, and hard-working.  You know he is at law school and works a few jobs to pay for it.  You are not sure where, but he is intelligent and you can imagine him doing anything.  His snark is amusing but his dependability and steadfastness is a sexy combination.  Your sister has never met him but has often teased you for your so-called boring infatuation, but you disregard the thought.  You like Seungmin, shaggy bangs and law school textbooks and all. 

A flirtation has been subtly brewing over the last few months.  You think the unexpected birthday gift is a step in that direction.  Especially when you unwrap a recipe book you off-handedly mentioned a few weeks ago, touched he remembered it at all. 

“Oh, thank you, Seungmin,” you say, gushing and sweet.  You go to hug him but falter nervously and end up giggling. 

He brushes some hair out of his eyes.  They seem to sparkle with mirth, or maybe you are just ridiculously head-over-heels. 

“You’re kinda goofy, you know that?” he says, but smiles.  “I like it.” 

“Oh gosh,” you say. 

It makes him laugh.  Then he says, “I’ll let you get to your party.” 

“Oh, it’s just my sister and some girl friends,” you say.  “I don’t even know where we’re going.  Probably just some food and stuff.  You know me.  I’m very simple.” 

“I do,” he says.  “I’d like to know you better, though.  Maybe you can make me one of those recipes some time.  I like the one on page fifteen.”

You burst out laughing at his audacity, making him laugh too.  His teasing successively obliterates your nerves.    

“I will,” you say, smiling so big.  “Page fifteen.  Noted.” 

“It’s a date,” he says.  “I’ll let you go now. Enjoy your birthday dinner.”

“You too,” you say, then realize that response made no sense so you stutter through a retraction.  You stop when he leans in and kisses your cheek, a quick peck that makes your eyes go wide. 

“Goofball,” he says and bops your nose while smiling.  “See you around, neighbour.”

“Bye, neighbour,” you say, giggling helplessly. 

He smiles as he walks away, hands in his pockets, and you are still hugging your book and smiling. 

-

The conversation with Seungmin is your last wholesome birthday moment.  You meet your sister and friends only to get whisked off to a placeof complete and utter depravity. 

Otherwise known as a club full of male strippers. 

You are sitting at a little table, astounded at the room around you.  You hold no judgements whatsoever, but between the flashing lights and loud music and, um, prominent bare chests and even more prominent bulges, you are sufficiently overawed. 

You cannot help but gawk, mouth open as you look around at everything.  It makes your sister and friends laugh.  It is not mean but they are undoubtedly amused.  Your shy character is the opposite of… this. 

“You guys are crazy,” you say, only making them erupt into more giggles. 

“You like logic and traditions so consider it a rite of passage, baby sister,” your sister says, slinging her arm around your shoulder and squeezing.  “Or, hm, an act of feminism!  It’s about equality.  We need to objectify and ogle the sexy men on behalf of womankind.”   

“How noble of us,” you say dryly, setting off another round of giggles.  You shake your head, smiling with amusement too.  You are a little embarrassed but it is quite funny, and there is a part of you enjoying something so opposite of your usual quiet scenes.  

Amusing is the best word for it, though.  None of the men are remotely your type and the relentless hip-thrusting is a bit much. You find yourself laughing into your drink and swaying to music as a few choreographed routines are performed.  Some of the more elaborate dances are entertaining. 

“The birthday girl likes a pretty boy,” your sister says, conspiring with your friends to find the perfect man to entertain you. 

“No, I don’t,” you say.  You roll your eyes and playfully shove her shoulder.   

“Well,” she says, “there are no boring lawyers on that stage, so a pretty face will have to suffice.” 

They proceed to point out a few of the prettier dancers while you shake your head.  You turn to watch the stage where a different set of men are in the middle of a routine.  There is a very rowdy bachelorette party in front of your table, occasionally blocking the view of one side of the stage.  You are sipping you drink when a few girls move, opening the view. 

You promptly spit your drink everywhere.  Your friends squeal while you choke and there is enough chaos at your table for one of the dancers to look directly at you. 

Not just any dancer.  

Kim Seungmin.

You have seen that face twice a day every day for months and you still barely recognize him.  It is no wonder that even a slightly obstructed view warped him entirely. 

Your modest, low-key friend is dazzling under the stage lights, face lightly made-up and his usual shaggy hair pushed back off his face.  Is it possible for a glimpse of forehead to so drastically change the composition of a familiar face?   He looks like a new man, his features striking on his bright, open face, all framed by neatly styled dark hair.  The familiar sparkle in his dark eyes is accentuated by the gleam of something shining around his neck.  Necklace? Choker? Collar?

He is in a white dress shirt and blue jeans, ripped at the knee, but everything about him seems illuminated.  He is the bold, blazoned fantasy version of the boy next door.  Very literally in your case, which is maybe why you think it, watching him cross the stage with more verve and confidence than you knew he possessed.  Your Seungmin walks in a casual shuffle, hands in his pockets.  He does not stride.

He certainly does not… gyrate.  Which is what he is doing when he catches your eye.  There is a moment of shared recognition and subsequent surprise, wide-eyed as you hold gazes across a noisy room.

Seungmin, a seemingly consummate professional, blinks the surprise off his face and goes back to his routine. 

You are not so practiced.  Your surprise stays plastered there, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him.  The dance that seemed so exaggerated and ridiculous on the other performers is something else on Seungmin.  Maybe it is his character, the boy next door with his ripped jeans and smirking grin. Or maybe it is because he is your boy next door.

He is not ridiculous. Quite the opposite.  He makes it look natural, fluid and unhurried with the swivel of his hips and teasing grin.  He seems to somehow make eye contact with everyone in the room. 

You remind yourself that is his job when his eyes wander back to you.  It does not slow the race of your heart.

He sits on a chair and opens his shirt.  Some of the other dancers are more than half-naked, but he has a captive audience with the simplest action.  Keeping each step to the beat of the music, he reclines and undoes his belt, which makes your lips part. Then he lets his shirt drop down his arms and reveals his shoulders, which makes you gasp.  Then he cups a hand between his legs, curving his palm over the not-insubstantial bulge in his jeans.  Heat fills the core of you. 

He looks right at you with a tilt of his head and a lazy smile, the subtle sort of smirk that does not need to exaggerate.  He knows he has you. 

“Oh my god,” your friend says.  “Not birthday girl eye-fucking a stripper.”

“What!”  You rip your attention away all at once, flushed hot from head to toe.  “I am not!”

“Well, he was eye-fucking you.” 

You take a gigantic gulp of water, though it does not to quell the heat inside.  Until today, the most you dared to fantasize about Seungmin was a prolonged kiss on the porch.  Seungmin is polite.  He does not eye-fuck. 

Except you glance over the rim of your cup.  He is still looking at you.  It is not the way he looks at everyone else, who he skims with a cursory glance and flirtatious wink.  It is a lingering, penetrating stare, like he is calling you to him with his eyes alone. 

Oh. Gosh.  He is eye-fucking you. 

“I think,” your sister says, “we found a pretty boy for the birthday girl.” 

-

And that is how you find yourself sitting in a small private room, barely bigger than a coat closet and washed in a dark purple light.  You are perched on a plush little seat, holding your handbag so tightly your knuckles start to hurt.  You let go and clear your throat, embarrassed even though you are alone.  You place the bag on the floor and smooth your hands down the skirt of your dress.

You squeak like a frightened little mouse, jumping when Kim Seungmin startles you for the third time tonight.  Once on your doorstep.  Once on stage.  And now in this little room, silhouetted by the hall lights until he closes the divider.  He is still in his ripped jeans and dress shirt, neatly buttoned and composed again. 

He runs a hand through his hair which makes your heart skip beats.  You feel a little preposterous, scandalized by a forehead, but it makes his gaze so direct.  You melt under the intensity of his stare. 

“I hear it’s your birthday,” he says. 

You imagine yourself as a stranger to him, the same line recited with the same confidence.  For some reason, it is just as tantalizing.  You like abrasive, quirky law student Kim Seungmin in his hoodie and jeans.  But you find yourself irrevocably spellbound by this other version of him, who is so seductive it has women drawing money out of their purses. 

“Yes,” is what you say, instead of all that. 

He tilts his head, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.  He is always clever but his open face makes his scrutiny more apparent.  You swallow when he approaches, when he sinks down on one knee while holding your gaze in thrall. 

“Breathe,” he says.  “That’s not a request.”  He rests his hands on the seat, framing your body between them.  He does not touch you.  He does not need to.  Your breath spills free in a rush and he smirks.  “Good.  All right.  So… neighbour… Should we talk?” 

You think a thousand thoughts.  Yes, a conversation.  No, your friends paid for this room.  They think you will get a lap dance or something, then return quickly.  You want to ask when he is free for dinner.  You want to ask how long he has worked here.  You want to know him.  You really, really want to kiss him. 

You say instead, “I’ve never done this sort of thing before.” 

He looks at you for another moment, still studious.  You swallow again.  Then he smiles that dastardly grin, wide and a little mean. 

“And you want to?” he asks.  “Do this sort of thing?” 

“Only if it’s you,” you say, then avert your gaze out of embarrassment.  Maybe that was too much cringe-worthy honesty. 

He touches your chin, drawing your gaze back to him.  You blink at him, helpless but to study his face in turn.  He was always decently good-looking but he is driving you to complete distraction.  You find yourself staring at his lips well before he starts speaking. 

“I think you have more depth than either of us know, don’t you?” he asks. 

“Maybe,” you say, laughing a little.  You look at him with wide, earnest eyes.  “Don’t we all?” 

He touches his tongue to his upper lip, looking thoughtful but undoubtedly smiling.  Then he smacks his lips and nods, his hair bouncing.

“Right,” he says.  “In that case, birthday girl…”

He stands and your eyes follow.  He holds your gaze until he starts unbuttoning his shirt, then your eyes drop to his hands, the deft flick of his fingers as they crawl down his chest. 

A professional, you think.  It gets you undeniably hot.  You meet his eyes again when he tugs his shirt off and drops it behind him.  He is more slender than chiseled, especially compared to some of the other dancers, but there is a firmness to his body, a control he has mastered.  

He grabs a bar above your head that you did not even notice, using it to lift and lower himself over you.  He lands in a smooth straddle with his knees cradling you under him. 

You sit back, breathing harder already.  Then he takes your hands and lifts them over your head, making your fingers twitch with anticipation.  You are still fully clothed but your dress is sleeveless and low-cut and this feels like a vulnerable position, arms raised with a half-naked Kim Seungmin straddling your body. 

He curls your fingers around the bar then drags his knuckle down the bare skin of your arms, making you shiver despite the packed heat of this little room. 

“You keep your hands where they are,” he says, “or I’ll tie them up.”   

You nod a little frantically and it makes him laugh.  Then he is leaning back just enough to rock his body over yours, bringing your attention to every flawless plane of his body as he moves on you.  He touches you sparingly, making you watch, making you wonder.  Looking and fantasizing about what his hips can really do, what strength is hidden in the body he has mastered.  He follows the low music, ever deep thrum of a bass, every heart-pounding beat. 

He brings his face close to yours, so close your lips almost touch.  It steals your breath like a real kiss would. 

“I’m going to touch you,” he says.  “Be good for me, birthday girl. Maybe there’s a present in it for you.  Only if I like you.” 

You cannot find any witty quips to return.  He is definitely the experienced one, as effortless with his words as with everything else.  You can only gawk at him as he slides smoothly off.  Then his hands are on your legs, making them quiver, your body startled with the direct touch despite the warning. 

Your skirt gathers just a bit, his hands curling under your knees.  Then he is spreading your legs, not enough to see anything but enough you feel the empty space between them.  Oh yes, emptier than you have ever felt.  You are surprised by the way you clench, your body aching for more.  He only teases, makes you feel that emptiness and picture every what if.  He helps you with your fantasy, pushing your legs back like he would if he was fucking you deep, rolling his hips so close to yours in mimicry. 

“Oh,” is the only sound you make.   Your breathing is very loud.  It says a lot on its own. 

He is breathing a little harder too.  He is still between your legs when he starts unbuttoning his jeans.  He shuffles them down his hips but not all the way off.  You can see he is wearing nothing underneath, the denim itself a suddenly tantalizing piece, slung low on his hips with the subtle sloping v of his body drawing your gaze to his middle. 

“I don’t usually go further than this, you know,” he says.  He slowly pushes the next button loose and you can feel the rush of heat from your belly swoop lower.  His bulge looks obscene at this vantage, pushing at what little remains of the denim around it.  “But I think I like you, birthday girl.”  He opens another button.  “I think I can make an exception.”  He pushes the last button then grasps his jeans at the hips, grinning as he says, “Our secret.” 

Secret, illicit, that’s what this feels like, looking at the gorgeous man you have been pining after, watching as he pushes his jeans down his hips and thighs.  You are tucked in a small room not far away from a rowdy crowd, Kim Seungmin dropping the last of his clothes then continuing his slow and sensual movements. 

You feel dizzy, your arms shaking.  You close your mouth when you literally salivate, because his dick is right there, hard and curving up in front of you as he moves with skilled ease.  You giggle a little nervously when he notices and swipes a thumb across your lips.   Then he reaches up, curling his hands over yours on the bar as he leans in close to your face. 

“You wanna touch me?” he asks, palms over your knuckles.  You nod frantically and he grins that mean smile, tilting his head as he looks down at you.  “What will you give me for it?” 

“Anything,” you say.  “You can do anything to me.  You can have all of me.” 

It occurs only seconds later he might mean money, but he just laughs, that familiar ha-ha-ha you have heard a dozen times before. 

“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he teases.  “By fucking your way out of them?” 

“You’re so mean,” you say with a helpless pout. 

“Yeah,” he says, brushing his nose with yours.  “I am.  I could be worse, but it’s your birthday.”  He takes your hands and lowers them, guiding them to his shoulders.   

You touch him carefully, as if he is fragile, or like he could disappear beneath your fingertips.  This moment hardly seems real, ethereal and bright, all neon and purple haze. This is not like you and that is thrilling.  This is all new, but he is also familiar.  You are enjoying this, him, you together.  

You touch him slowly, with intention, just the gentlest caress across his bare shoulders.  It wipes his grin, makes his breathing get all slow like he is savouring it too.  He looks at you with more intensity. 

“You said I can anything?” he asks. 

A nod is all it takes, then he is sinking to his knees.  He pushes back a few loose strands of his hair, then his hands are under your knees and he is pulling you to the edge of your seat.  You make a little noise of surprise, clutching his shoulders until he manoeuvres you.  Then it is your legs on his shoulders and he is running his tongue along your inner thigh. 

“Seungmin,” you say, breathlessly.

“Shh, shh,” he says.  “Our secret, remember?” 

Then he is tugging your now wet panties to the side, his mouth on you in a ravenous motion.  You cover your mouth to try and stifle most of your moaning, but you cannot help the few sounds that escape, especially as he takes you closer and closer to a climax.  He surfaces, still using his hand to get you close, his lips wet and eyes searching.  He smirks, sliding two fingers into you while rolling his thumb across that distended bundle of nerves. 

“That’s not quiet, birthday girl,” he says.  “Don’t make me gag you.” 

“I’m quiet,” is your rasping reply.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asks, fucking his fingers roughly through all the wet desire between your thighs, making you shake.  “I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making,” he says.  “It almost sounds like you’re about to come for me.  That’s pretty dirty.  What would everyone out there say?” 

Shocked.  They would be shocked if they even believed it.  You would not have believed it of yourself a few hours ago.  But now you are coming all over his face and hand and it is still not enough.  You have never begged for anything but the words are on your lips, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, fingers swirling at your entrance.  He pushes in and out, just his fingertips, tormenting you.  “That just made you needier, didn’t it?  Tsk.” He sighs dramatically.  “I don’t usually offer that.  It’ll cost you.” 

“I’ll cook the recipe on page sixteen too,” you say, making him laugh naturally again. 

“What a bargain,” he says.  He grabs his jeans and fishes a condom out of the back pocket.  He even seems to make a show of that.  He puts it on and fists his cock for you, standing above you while you catch your breath.  When you reach for him, he grabs your wrists and yanks you up.  He is effortless and quick, as always, spinning you around and pressing your hands to the back of the seat. 

“You know the rules,” he says.  “Hands there or I tie them up.  That’s my girl.”

You follow his directions and bend over, feeling utterly debauched before he is even inside you.  He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties aside again.  You are fully dressed and he is completely naked, but you somehow feel more exposed, more vulnerable in his confident hands.  He holds your hips and eases inside you, inch by solid inch until he is pressed up against your backside, buried to the hilt. 

“That’s it,” he says, tone still cocky though it soon gives way to panting.  He makes a few rough sounds of his own, fucking you quick and dirty in this small room.  You are going to walk out of here smelling and looking like sex itself, dishevelled and shaky and well-fucked.  Practically a new woman, one you are eager to know, containing as many contradictory dualities as Seungmin. 

Seungmin, your goofy friend, who throws his head back as he drives into you again and again, shushing you when you get too loud.  He muffles his own cry in your shoulder when he comes, still rocking against you for a moment after that. 

“Fuck,” you say, dropping onto the seat after.  He is tugging his jeans back on, though his eyes are on you.  It is a scrutinous stare again.  You undoubtedly have questions for each other.   For now, you just smile, taking another shuddery breath as you come down from your high.   “Well,” you say.  “That might have been worth page seventeen too.” 

His gaze softens, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his smile.  He leans over you, brushes his nose against yours, and finally kisses you.  It is the soft, tender kiss you dreamed about so long ago.  It leaves you as breathless as everything else. 

“All right, neighbour,” he says, “it’s a date.” 

[lovebugism]

Hi um, could you please maybe write something with Stevie and his agoraphobic girlfriend, who is worried she clings to him/depends on him too much for her own comfort and panics and tries to distance herself from him? (Also I adore your writing, you write for Steve so well, it hits me in the heart constantly)

thank u angel! i lovelovelove this request! — you worry steve thinks you're a burden, but really he just loves you (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, cw for mentions of social anxiety, 1k)

Steve can tell when you’re out of the shower. The air starts to smell vaguely of fresh flowers and warm vanilla as wisps of steam travel down the hall. He sorts groceries in the kitchen and smiles to himself when he hears your bare feet pad closer, giddy with the thought of surprising you.

You freeze in the doorway at the sight of him, looking more scared than shocked. Wet hair drips onto the neck of your oversized sweatshirt — definitely his. “What are you…?” you trail off, wide eyes darting around the kitchen, now filled with brown paper bags and new groceries.

Steve grins, pink and lopsided, as he slides fresh milk into the door of the fridge. “Hey, babe,” he greets in a honeyed voice.

“Hi…” you waver, brows still pinched with a distant concern.

“Good shower?” he asks, just before a chuckle spills from his mouth. “You were in there for, like, thirty minutes.”

You force a laugh of your own. “Yeah, it was… It was… fine— What are you doing?”

Steve meets your screwed-up features with a brighter beam. He holds a loaf of bread in one hand and chips in the other. “I went grocery shopping,” he answers.

“Okay,” you nod, then shrink inside yourself again. “…Why?”

He shrugs and sets the items on the counter, rambling as he digs into another crumpling paper bag. “‘Cause I knew you’ve been meaning to do it and everything, so… I thought I’d make it a little easier on you.”

Your heart threatens to swell at the simple act of kindness. Your brain doesn’t let it, though. The mean thing can’t comprehend that he’s doing this because he loves you. Instead, it tells you he’s doing this because he thinks you can’t.

“Thank you,” you murmur sheepishly, wringing your clammy hands into a knot. “But, you know, I could’ve done it…”

Steve scoffs. “Of course, you could’ve! I just wanted to do something nice for you.” He puts boxes of something into the upper cabinets you usually have trouble reaching. With his back to you, he rambles. “And don’t worry about paying me back, alright? Consider this me making up for takeout the other night. I really did forget my wallet at home, babe, I swear.”

The memory makes him laugh now that he’s over being horrified about it. He thought about it for days, though — the way he patted at his jeans in search of something that wasn’t there, and how the excuse sounded like a lie as it fell from his lips. 

You didn’t think twice about it after it happened. You were more than happy to pay for your dinner that night, especially considering Steve never lets you pay for anything.

As his quiet chuckling fades, he realizes you hadn’t laughed about it at all. Not even the pity laugh you give when you don’t think something’s all that funny, but you don’t want to be rude. 

With a worried look pinching his features, Steve looks at you over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes go wide. “Hm?”

“What’s that look for, huh?”

“What look?” 

“That one,” he says with a quiet chuckle, pointing to the concerned frown scrunching your brows and swimming in your eyes. “You look upset about something.”

“No!” you blurt before you mean to. The last thing you want him to think is that you’re unhappy with him. So quieter and less convincingly, you waver, “No. I’m not… I’m not upset.”

Steve crosses his toned arms over his chest, looking less than swayed. “Did I… Did I do something? Should I not have bought the groceries— ‘Cause they were having a bunch of sales, you know— it wasn’t that expensive, I promise—”

“It’s not that,” you assure him firmly, before going suddenly shy all over again. “I just… I really could’ve done it, Steve.”

He nods, furrow-browed. “I know.”

You swallow hard. “I just don’t want you to think that you have to do all this stuff for me just because it’s… ‘cause it’s harder for me.”

Steve’s structured face goes lax with realization. He nods slowly to himself, chest wrenching because he understands it all now — why you look so pouty about the whole thing. Because you think you’re a burden.

His sneakers pad softly against the tile floor until they’re planted just ahead of your bare feet. Steve smiles down at you and smooths his palms over your sides. “I don’t feel like I have to do anything,” he promises with a faint laugh, squeezing gently at your hips. “I like doing these things for you… ‘Cause I like you and everything, I guess.”

You scrunch your nose to keep from smiling too big. “Well, that’s gross…” you mumble.

“Disgusting, huh?” Steve concurs with a lopsided grin before smacking a kiss to your mouth.

Your lips tingle for more of him when he pulls away. Your yearning hands twist at the hem of his shirt before he can step away from you completely. “At least let me help put them away,” you plead with sparkling eyes.

Steve’s face twists. “What do I look like to you?” he scoffs. “I’m not some kinda schmuck that makes his girl put up groceries! Go finish getting ready. Or lay down or something— I’m good in here.”

“I can help!” you protest, doing everything but stomping your foot.

“I know you can. Excuse me for wanting to pamper you.”

You make a faint grumbly noise of disdain but don’t press the issue any further.

“You can make it up to me later?” Steve offers with a plush pink grin. His softly calloused palms smooth over your shoulders, wide thumbs rubbing along your collarbones. “Movie date? At the Hawk? Next weekend?”

Your chest pinches with a momentary panic, but you know he’s doing everything right. 

The Hawk isn’t crazy crowded these days, and cinemas don’t usually call for a ton of human interaction. He’s giving you an entire week to prepare yourself for it, too. Steve’s learned all your little idiosyncrasies — for better or for worse.

“Try?” Steve presses at your silence.

You exhale a sharp breath through your nose to dispel the fleeting worry in your chest. You nod. “I’ll try.”

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I absolutely love your writing, especially when you write for Eddie or Steve. Love these two. I was wondering if you could write about an insucure reader who has been rejected a lot and doesn't believe it when someone actually starts loving her for who she is. I'd love this with either Eddie or Steve . You can choose who you want to write for. If you don't wanna write something like this, that's fine too. Just know that I love your writing!

ty for requesting!! —you have a hard time believing eddie loves you, but he does. fem, 1.1k

“Oh my god.” 

Eddie freaks you out when he talks like that. His voice turns hoarse, almost grainy, like he’s in shock, or he can’t get a grip. 

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asks. 

“It’s not alright?” you ask, looking down at your outfit. It’s just jeans and a chunky cardigan. He sounds like he loves it, but your brain goes straight to worry anyhow. 

“No, not alright.” He leans back against your pillows, his arms behind his head and his biceps doing something cruel against his shirt sleeves. “Not alright at all. Do a spin?” 

You shake your head severely. 

“Doll,” he says, pouting gently. “Please?” 

“No, if it looks bad, I’ll change,” you say. 

“It doesn’t look bad! I’m kidding. You look the opposite of bad, so do a spin!” 

You love his voice and the way he talks, and you love him —though of course he doesn’t know it— so you end up doing a slow spin for him in your bedroom. You’ve buttoned the top button of your cardigan and it’s a very static movement, but he oohs, ahs, and sits up quickly. 

“Yeah, you look fucking beautiful.” 

“Boo,” you mumble. 

“Just as I suspected you would.” He gestures you forward. “Wait, come over here a second.” 

Eddie says wait as an act of persuasion, or a white lie; he makes it sound as though there’s something urgent afoot, but there never is. He grabs your arm when you’re close enough, then your back, looking up into your face imploringly. “I just wanted to look at you.” Being held like this warms you from the inside out. His hand scrunches your cardigan and shirt, the other bringing your arm to his chest. “But you guessed that.” 

“No, I…” You smile in a flat line. “You’re sure I look good?” 

“Of course I am. I was kidding,” he says, softer now. “You know? I was being sarcastic, because you look that good it’s crazy to imply you look bad. I promise.” 

You sit down on the bed beside him. 

“You look so pretty,” he says. 

You nod as a strange ache blossoms in your throat. “Sorry,” you say, wishing you could explain it to him. You weren’t always scared of what people are thinking, but past dismissal has left you off kilter, and now he’s paying the price. 

“For what, angel?” he asks, though he’s not waiting for an answer. “You’re…you do look beautiful, you do, I’m not messing around. Well, I was. But I’m not now, so don’t be sorry, and don’t worry. I love this stuff, I fucking love the jeans, you have nice thighs,” —he laughs at your tired sigh— “and I love buttons. These buttons are great.” 

You let your cheek rest gently on his arm, still laughing. He’s such a sweetheart when he wants to be, but he’s not half as cool as he thinks he is. He’s too earnest to be a bad boy. “Thank you.” 

“I love you.” 

You shake your head. Eddie’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer, face encouraged into his neck. “I do,” he says gently. “I’ve told you before, haven’t I?” 

“Yes.” 

He brings his hand to the back of your neck. “Mm. And have I given you any reason to think I’m lying?” 

“I don’t think you’re lying, I just think that… that I… you know.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it true.” He sounds a peculiar mixture of sad and happy at once. Find concern, perhaps, or loving derision. “I love you, and I’d love it if you walked around in bobbly sweaters and clogs. I don’t care what you wear, ‘cos it’s you.” 

“There’s nothing even that good about me to feel that way for.” 

“You don’t think so, but I do.” He turns his face down to you and presses the bridge of his nose to your temple. 

His t-shirt smells like clary soap. You curl your hand into the front of it, the soft wall of his abdomen underneath a familiar comfort. He hugs you tighter still. Eddie’s told you he loves you a few times, and you’d thought that when a guy finally felt the same way about you, everything would be fixed, you could say it back and live happily ever after, but it hasn’t worked out that way so far. Every time he tells you he loves you, you’re paralysed by the idea that he can’t. But then he holds you like this and you start to wonder if he’s telling the truth. 

He kisses the side of your face. “You okay?” he asks, kissing you again to punctuate. 

“Yes. Yeah.” You work your arms behind his back and squeeze him. 

Eddie encourages your head back carefully. He meets your eyes; all you can see is his irises, deeply brown, and his long lashes where they tent together. You’re too close to see his lips, but you can sense that he’s smiling from the warmth in his eyes and the slight droop of his eyelids. 

“Kiss?” he murmurs. 

You hum a yes. Eddie nudges your nose with his until there’s space to kiss you, your lips pressed tight and then less so, a dance of sweet kisses. You relax under his touch, the physical evidence of his affection, so totally that your back clicks. He smiles into your mouth but pulls away, too tempted by the opportunity to make a joke. 

“You need a masseuse,” he says, bringing his hand to your cheek. 

“No, I don’t.” You can practically see the steam radiating off of your cheeks. 

“You totally do. I could give you a massage, babe. I’m really good.” 

“No… we’re going to the movies.” 

“See, that sounds like you do want one. I can give you one later.” 

You look at him for too long, his brows pulling together in concern, but it’s nothing he has to worry about. “Love you,” you say quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for another hug. 

His arm stutters at your side. “I love you,” you correct. The ‘I’ is important, especially when he’s never heard it from you before. It’s easy to love someone so patient, and so funny. 

He hugs you tight and sudden. “Yeah,” he says, “I love you too.” His watch digs into your spine. You don’t tell him. It’ll probably bruise, but you just don’t care. It’s nice to be loved fiercely. 

[swappermanent]

Summoned For Help (Part 2)

Over the next few weeks, the spell really started doing its thing. Every couple of nights, I’d feel that familiar pull—like a hand reaching inside me and tugging me into another dimension. One minute, I’d be chilling on my couch, scrolling through dating apps or playing a game, and the next, I’d open my eyes and find myself in Cal’s body, usually at a bar or just about to head home with someone.

Luckily, my body just kind of... autopiloted while I was out of it. I’d wake up the next morning in my bed, no memory of what my body had been doing while I was off playing sex therapist for Cal. That was a relief—I didn’t need the added stress of figuring out what to tell people while I was physically here but mentally gone.

And the nights I was in Cal’s body? They weren’t bad. I had a few solid hookups, made a few girls very happy—and by the time I got ejected, Cal was usually in a much better position than he’d started in. Literally. And I think maybe he was starting to learn a thing or two from me.

But then came the night everything shifted.

I wasn’t pulled in at the start of some flirtatious bar banter or a heated moment in a cab ride. No, this time, I got yanked into his body mid-thrust.

One second, I was dozing off in front of the TV, and the next, I was blinking into consciousness, sweat dripping down Cal’s brow, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. The girl beneath me—well, beneath him—was staring off into space, looking bored out of her mind. Her body was stiff, her expression a mix of disinterest and maybe a little regret.

“Oh, hell no,” I thought. “This is a trainwreck.”

Cal’s voice popped up in my head almost instantly. “Whoa, dude, what the hell? I was handling this!”

“Were you?” I shot back, incredulous. “Because she looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.”

He hesitated, and I could feel his defensiveness crack. “I mean... I don’t know. She’s just quiet.”

“She’s quiet because you’re not paying attention,” I said. “Dude, she’s not relaxed at all. Did you even go down on her?”

Cal groaned, clearly embarrassed. “Uh... no. I mean, we just got right to it. She seemed into it.”

I mentally facepalmed. “Cal, come on. You can’t skip that. No wonder I got summoned back.”

I slowed everything down, pulling away and shifting my attention to her. “Hey,” I said softly, leaning close to meet her gaze. “You okay?”

She blinked, startled, and then smiled nervously. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“No, seriously,” I pressed, my tone gentle. “You can tell me if something’s off.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little, and after a moment, she nodded. “I guess I just... wasn’t really feeling it.”

“Okay. Let me fix that.”

I kissed my way down her body, taking my time, listening to her reactions, and tuning everything to what she liked. It didn’t take long before her stiff posture melted into the mattress, her disinterest replaced with soft sighs and murmurs of approval.

“Damn,” Cal said in my head, sounding both impressed and sheepish. “Okay, I get it. I really need to work on this.”

“You think?” I shot back, but I didn’t press further. Actions speak louder than words, and I was busy demonstrating exactly why she deserved more than his half-hearted efforts.

Afterward, when I was ejected from his body and back in my own, I got a text from him almost immediately.

CAL: So uh... thanks for that. Again. ME: You’re welcome. Again. But seriously, man, pay attention to them.

That wasn’t the last time something like this happened. Over the next few weeks, there were more instances where I’d get pulled in right in the middle of things. Every time, it was clear that Cal had started strong but lost focus—too caught up in his own pleasure to really tune into his partner.

And every time, I’d step in, recalibrate the situation, and get things back on track. I couldn’t say I minded too much—after all, it felt good knowing I was making things better for these women—but it was becoming increasingly obvious just how much work Cal still had to do.

---

One night, we were sitting on his couch, beers in hand, the game on TV serving as background noise. He seemed... off. Quieter than usual. When I asked him what was up, he sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t know, man,” he said. “I guess I’m just over it. The whole thing.”

“Over what?” I asked, not following.

“Hooking up,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s not like it’s been going great, even with you tagging in. I don’t feel like I’m getting any better. If anything, I’m worse. Like, my confidence is shot. Every time I think about hitting on someone, I just... don’t.”

That threw me.

“I thought the whole point of this spell was to help you,” I said carefully. “You’re not giving up, are you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I am. Maybe I just need to reset, you know? Get my head straight. I’ve been thinking about staying celibate for a while, focus on other stuff.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just nodded and took a swig of my beer. “If that’s what you want, man. Whatever makes you happy.”

But apparently, the spell didn’t agree.

It started a few days later, completely out of the blue.

I was making lunch in my apartment when I felt the pull—familiar by now, but still jarring. The world spun, and when my vision cleared, I was no longer standing in my tiny kitchen. I was in the middle of a grocery store, Cal’s hands gripping a cart full of food.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, glancing around. This wasn’t the usual scene of a bar or a bedroom. People were milling about, grabbing produce and cereal boxes, oblivious to the fact that I had just taken over Cal.

“Why am I here?” I thought, not expecting an answer. But then it hit me—the spell. The rules were changing.

Cal’s voice appeared in my head, startled. “Dude, what’s going on? I was just shopping.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” I said. “And now I’m here. Any idea why?”

“No clue,” he said, sounding genuinely baffled.

I didn’t get it either—until my eyes landed on a guy in the next aisle. He was tall, with a sharp jawline and a charming smile that he flashed at me as he reached for a box of granola bars. It clicked instantly. The spell wasn’t waiting for Cal to take the lead anymore. It was picking targets for me.

“Oh, no way,” I muttered. “This is... ridiculous.”

“Wait, what are you—oh, God, no,” Cal groaned in my head as I turned the cart and casually made my way over to the guy.

“Hey,” I said, striking up a conversation. Turns out, flirting in Cal’s body was even easier than usual—it was like people gravitated toward him, no matter what. Before long, the guy was giving me his number, and I had him back at Cal’s place within an hour.

The spell didn’t eject me until it was over. By the time I was back in my own body, Cal was fuming.

“You’re hooking up with guys now?” he snapped over the phone.

“It’s easier,” I said, shrugging even though he couldn’t see me. “Besides, you’re the one who checked out. If the spell’s going to drag me into your body, I might as well make it quick.”

He groaned, but he didn’t argue. I figured he couldn’t—after all, this was his idea in the first place.

It kept happening. Random times, random places. I’d be yanked into Cal’s body during the most mundane moments—at work, in line for coffee, walking through the park—and every time, I knew exactly what I had to do. The spell wasn’t subtle about its intentions. It wanted Cal to have a sex life, and if he wasn’t going to make it happen, it would force me to do it.

The more it happened, the less Cal protested. At first, he’d grumble and complain when I picked up guys instead of women, but eventually, he just... accepted it. “Whatever,” he’d say. “At least you’re doing the job.”

But I could feel the tension building between us. This wasn’t what either of us had signed up for. The spell wasn’t just nudging things along anymore—it was taking over, hijacking both our lives to meet its goals.

Things finally came to a head one night when I was pulled into Cal’s body during a wild night at the club. The music was loud, the drinks were strong, and the girl I ended up dancing with was gorgeous. By the time we made it back to Cal’s place, things were already heating up, and I knew exactly where it was headed.

Let’s just say we both finished—hard. The orgasm was... incredible. Like nothing I’d ever experienced in my own body. And it wasn’t just the fact that this was the first girl I had hooked up with in all this that let me creampie her pussy nice and deep. No, there was something about being Cal—his strength, his stamina, the way his body seemed built for moments like this—I was really starting to get comfortable with it.

When it was over, we lay there in the dark, her head resting on Cal’s chest, both of us drifting off to sleep. I could feel it happening—my consciousness loosening, the familiar pull back to my own body starting to kick in. “Finally,” I thought, relieved to be heading back to the comfort of my own bed.

But when I opened my eyes the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, I was still in Cal’s body.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, glancing down at the sleeping girl curled up beside me. My heart raced as I tried to process what was happening. I was supposed to be back in my own body. I knew I’d started to drift out.

That’s when it hit me.

The spell.

It wasn’t done with me yet.

It must have decided to keep me around because, of course, there was another opportunity. Morning sex.

I turned my head toward her, and as if on cue, she stirred awake, her eyes fluttering open and a sleepy smile spreading across her lips. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice soft and warm. She ran her fingers across Cal’s chest, clearly ready for another round.

And I? Well, I didn’t exactly argue.

After we were both thoroughly satisfied—and I mean thoroughly—I finally felt the pull again. This time, it was definitive, sharp and insistent, like the spell was saying, Okay, you’re done. Get out.

I barely had time to roll off the bed before my consciousness was yanked away, leaving Cal’s utterly depleted body behind. When I woke up in my own body, sprawled on my couch, I felt drained in my own way. Like I’d run a marathon in someone else’s shoes.

At this point, the spell had made its intentions clear. I wasn’t just being called in to help Cal anymore. I was essentially his default now—only sent back to my body when there was no chance his was getting laid.

---

Later that afternoon, Cal came storming into my apartment, his face a mix of frustration and something close to panic. He didn’t even knock—just shoved the door open and glared at me, arms crossed like a pissed-off dad.

Alright, what the hell are you doing?” he demanded, not even bothering to say hello.

I raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“The spell,” he snapped, stepping closer. “I don’t know what you’re messing with, but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to anymore.”

I leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. “Cal, you’re crazy. I’m not doing anything.”

“Bullshit,” he shot back. “You’re screwing with it. I know you are.”

“Why would I screw with it?” I said, my voice rising to match his. “This was your idea, remember? I didn’t even want to do this in the first place!”

Cal opened his mouth to fire back, but before he could, I felt it—that unmistakable pull.

“Oh, no,” I muttered, the room starting to spin.

When the world settled again, I was standing in Cal’s body, looking down at my own. My old self—now on autopilot—was just standing there, staring off into space. It was eerie, like looking at a mannequin version of me, except it moved subtly, fidgeting with its hands the way I always did when I was nervous.

“What the fuck?” Cal’s voice rang in my head, sharp and angry. “Why did the spell bring you here now?

“I don’t know!” I shot back, exasperated. “But it’s not me doing this, okay? If anything, you’re the problem.”

“Yeah, sure,” he scoffed.

That’s when it clicked. I turned my gaze toward my old body, a sly grin forming on Cal’s lips. “You know,” I said, mostly to myself, “I’ve always wondered what it’d be like.”

“What what would be like?” Cal asked, suspicious.

“To fuck me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice rose, panicked, but I ignored him. My old body looked... good.

I stepped closer, leaning in just enough to make autopilot-me react. He blinked, tilting his head to look up at me, a faint smirk forming on his lips.

“Hey,” I said, Cal’s voice low and smooth. “You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

“Oh my God,” Cal groaned in my head.

“Relax,” I shot back. “And, hey, it’s working.”

And it was. My autopilot-self was clearly into it, responding exactly the way I knew I would. Flirting turned into touching, and before long, I had my old body pinned against the wall, its breath hitching in ways I was all too familiar with.

“Dude, stop!” Cal yelled, but his protests faded into the background as the moment took over.

When it was over, I lay there for a moment, catching my breath, waiting for the familiar pull—the sensation of being yanked back into my old body. But this time? Nothing happened.

I sat up slowly, stretching in Cal’s body, every movement radiating strength and ease.

Then I noticed something strange. My old body, lying beside me in what should have been autopilot mode, suddenly sat up. Its face—my face—twisted with confusion. It blinked a few times, and when it looked at me, I knew instantly that Cal was in there.

“Why am I looking at myself?” he said, his voice shaky, filled with disbelief. His eyes darted to his—my—hands, then back to me. “What the hell is happening?”

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. “Looks like the spell achieved its purpose.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice rising with panic. “You’re... you’re me?”

I stood up, towering over him. The power in this body was intoxicating. Every nerve felt alive, humming with purpose. For the first time, I wasn’t just borrowing his strength—I was owning it. I looked down at my old body—at Cal—and let the truth settle in.

“The spell wasn’t going to let you fail,” I said, my voice calm but steady, as if explaining something inevitable. “Its whole purpose was to improve your sex life, to make you better. But you weren’t doing the work. So it found a solution. Cal’s sex life is going to be great from now on.”

His eyes widened as the realization hit. “No. No way. You can’t just—”

“I didn’t choose this,” I interrupted, my voice low and firm. “The spell did. You checked out, Cal. You gave up. And now? I’m everything you couldn’t be.”

His face twisted in anger, but it didn’t last. His expression faltered, replaced by something closer to despair. He looked down at his—my—hands, and I could see it sinking in.

I took a step closer, looking down at him, at the body I used to call mine. The calm I felt wasn’t just in my head—it radiated through every part of me. For the first time in my life, I felt whole.

“Face it,” I said, my grin widening. “I’m worthy of this body in a way you never were.”

As he stared up at me, the truth written all over his—my—face, I let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

This wasn’t just a new beginning. It was an ending—the one the spell had been guiding us toward all along.

[chillinglyadventurous]

The Game - Stanley Pines

Nothing better than pretending to be strangers and letting Stan try to pick you up.

The bell above Greasy’s Diner jingled as you walked in, the place buzzing with the usual sounds of late-night activity. It was packed for a Tuesday evening with the crowd chattering and the clink of dishes creating a comfortable atmosphere. You scanned the tables, pretending not to notice a familiar figure sitting alone in the booth in the corner. Stan was already leaning back in his seat, the picture of ease and casual confidence. You fought back a smile.

This had started as a little game between the two of you. Even though you’d been together for years, Stan sometimes liked to act as though he didn’t know you, trying to pick you up like some babe at a bar. It was a fun kind of charade and you were more than happy to play along.

Tonight, you were the new face in town, alone and looking for a bite to eat. You had wandered into Greasy’s Diner, where a man with a cocky grin and a loud shirt was already eyeing you from across the room. You walked past his booth without acknowledging him, moving up to the counter where Lazy Susan greeted you with a warm smile.

“Evening, hon,” she said, pouring you a cup of coffee before you even asked. “You here by yourself?”

“Seems like it,” you replied, taking a sip.

You could feel Stan’s eyes on you, watching from his booth, his gaze steady and pointed. Before long, he pushed himself up from his seat and made his way over, clearing his throat a bit louder than necessary as he leaned against the counter beside you.

“Well, well, what’s a babe like you doin’ alone in a joint like this?” His voice was loud and thick with his usual swagger and you could feel him slipping into character.

You turned to look at him with a deliberately unimpressed expression. “And what’s it to you?” You arched an eyebrow, looking him up and down, pretending you didn’t know every inch of him already.

Stan gave you a grin, clearly relishing the banter. “Just thought I’d offer some company,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m Stan Pines. You mighta heard of me. Local businessman, town legend, modesty’s one of my finest traits.” He winked, making you bite back a laugh.

“Oh, that Stan Pines?” You replied, feigning surprise. “The guy who’s always claiming he can take down any man in town in one punch?”

He straightened up, all mock indignation. “Now, I don’t just claim it. I’ve got the track record to prove it. You ever wanna see it sometime, just say the word.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting a grin. “You really think that’s a good pickup line?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” He smirked, sliding onto the stool next to you. “Come on, tell me your name, sweetheart. I gotta know who I’m sittin’ next to.”

“Oh, you gotta know, huh?” You took another sip of your coffee, considering. “Maybe I like keeping you guessing.”

He chuckled, tapping his fingers on the counter. “Playing hard to get, I see. Alright, alright, I’ll guess.” He leaned in, “You look like a ‘Marge’ or a ‘Nancy.’ Maybe a ‘Judy.’”

You scoffed. “Wow, are you just naming every woman over fifty? If you think I’m some retiree trying to relive her glory days, then maybe you should head on back to your booth.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, honey.” He gave you a sidelong glance, a little sparkle in his eye. “You’d have to pay me to leave now.”

You both paused as Lazy Susan set a plate of fries in front of you. Stan was quick to snag one, popping it into his mouth as if you hadn’t just met, as if this were just another night where the two of you were sharing a plate and laughing over greasy food. But, tonight was different. You had to remind yourself to keep up the act.

“Hey!” You swatted at his hand. “I didn’t say you could just help yourself.”

He held up his hands in surrender, looking utterly unrepentant. “Hey, that’s just part of my charm, doll. I got a whole list of other great qualities if you care to find out.”

“Oh, yeah?” You folded your arms, leaning back in your seat as you gave him a look of mock scrutiny. “Like what?”

“Let’s see,” he said, scratching his chin in an exaggerated way. “I’m the best dancer in town. I’ve got an eye for adventure and I know every local mystery from here to the outskirts of Gravity Falls.”

“Mysteries, huh?” You leaned forward a little, playing along. “You mean like the ones people make up to entertain tourists?”

“Oh, they’re real, baby, trust me,” he said, lowering his voice as though letting you in on a secret. “Monsters, ghouls, haunted vending machines. You name it. Stick with me and I’ll show you all the secrets of this place. That is, if you think you can handle it.”

You gave him a skeptical look, unable to hold back a grin. “Sounds like a scam to me.”

He gasped in mock offense. “A scam? Me? That hurt.” He put a hand over his heart dramatically. “I’m just trying to make your stay in Gravity Falls as enjoyable as possible. Besides, if I were scamming you, you’d already be paying for this meal.” He gestured at the plate of fries with a wry smile.

You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what’s the real story here? You hang around Greasy’s hoping to pick up tourists?”

“Nah, not usually,” he admitted, his voice a little softer, a bit more genuine, though the playful glint in his eye never faded. “Only the real interesting ones.”

“Oh, so I’m interesting now?” You laughed, letting your expression soften too.

He gave you a smirk, his gaze warm. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head.” But, he was looking at you like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. It was a look you recognized, one that made your heart skip just a little, even after all these years.

You shared a few more minutes of banter, ordering more food, letting the act play out like the comfortable routine it was. Stan told you all about ‘his’ adventures in Gravity Falls, some of which you’d lived through right beside him. You threw in a few questions here and there, asking him things you already knew just to hear him talk about them.

As the night wore on, the crowd in Greasy’s began to thin out and you noticed Stan glancing around, perhaps realizing that the game might be coming to a close.

He leaned in, his expression more earnest, his voice dropping to a quieter tone. “Listen, I know I can be a bit much, but I like you, sweetheart. You’re something special.” There was a warmth there, the kind that only came after years together, the kind that reminded you this was more than just an act.

You grinned, unable to keep up the pretense any longer. “You know,” you said, pretending to think it over, “you’re not so bad yourself.”

He gave you a grin, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “Glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want you running off on me.”

You sat together in comfortable silence, just letting the familiar rhythms of the diner settle around you. After a moment, you leaned in closer, letting the rest of the diner fade away.

“You know,” you said, voice soft, “I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime.”

He squeezed your hand, his thumb tracing a gentle line over your knuckles. “Oh, don’t worry,” he replied. “I’m just getting started.” He squeezed your upper thigh. “Let’s get outta here, toots. I ain’t ready for this night to end.”

[skylarsblue]

★RDR2 Incorrect Quotes★

(If you see duplicates from my COD version of these? Shh, no you didn't) ★Border made by @fairytopea★

Ms.Grimshaw What are you doing, you oaf? Young!Arthur, staring at Y/N: They’re pretty. Ms.Grimshaw …and you’re ugly, now get back to work.

- (Pre-joining the gang) Abigail, trying to get paid: What’s your favorite color, John? John: Blue. No, green. Abigail: Awesome! I love learning about you. John: I fucked up, it’s yellow.

- Arthur, cutting a huge knot out of John’s hair: I fucked up, we gotta go bald. *head locks him still* Young!John, flailing violently: WAAAAAHHHH-

Seán: Psst, Lenny, ay mate, wake up! Lenny: Huh- Wh-what? What is it? Seán: I heard something outside the tent. Lenny: What? Seán: Like a woman crying in the distance, but I couldn’t hear her footsteps. Lenny: Okay?? What do you want me to do? Seán: Come look with me! Lenny: Hell no! Seán: Why not? Lenny: I got too much melanin and too much sense for that white people shit. You wanna let demons get you, be my guest, leave me out of it.

- (John HAD to have SOMETHING that captivated her, for humor’s sake? We’ll say he had jokes)

Abigail: You have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him. Arthur: Seriously, what do you see in that guy? Abigail: He makes me laugh.

- Micha: I've got the urge to say something. Arthur: And what's that? Micha: The N-Word- Arthur: WHOA-

- Bill: But seriously, is it your whole emo thing that she’s into or what? John: …yeah, long flowing straight hair, very emo.

- Karen: This- Hmm. Tilly: Be nice. Karen: I’m findin’ it. Mary-Beth: …it takes you that long to find- Karen: It does, it does.

- (O’Driscoll troubles) Kieran: Arthur we’re going to get murdered. We’re going to get murdered by a man who can’t tie a fucking bow tie. Arthur: At least he won’t torture us, can’t tie a rope either.

- John: Ugh, you know they’re gonna make us do one of those tacky family happiness photos that comes in the restaurants shitty frame. Tilly: Why are you so fucking negative all the time? John: Wh- uh- I just- Arthur: *slowly sucks tea through straw*

- Seán: Someone just said; “You’re a criminal!” Seán: *handkerchief on, gun in one hand, bag of money in the other* Seán: Well I’ll tell ya what, Sherlock Holmes. You are unbelievable.

- The Gang: Arthur is dying and Micha is a rat! Dutch, dancing with money: *insert that audio that goes “I don’t give a fuck cause I’m a ✨millionaire✨, I do what I want, middle finger in the air!”*

- John, drunk: You think the wind is ever tryna tell us something and we don’t know how to hear it anymore? Charles, loading up a drunk Arthur into a wagon: I just want you to stop saying odd shit.

- Abigail: If we lose, I’m gonna cut the judge. John: Wh- you brought your switchblade?? Abigail: Mhm. John: But they patted us down on the way in, where did you hide i- ohhhhhhh.

- Arthur: …you ever wish you could just, turn into a bird and fly away from everything? Charles: I think we need to get you to a therapist for depression. John: I’d wanna be a wolf. Charles: And we should get you psych evaluation for Autism.

- Sheriff: You seem like a reasonable and good natured person. Arthur: *looks around* And you look like you need glasses.

- Abigail: What would your father say?! Jack: Uhhh “I’ll fix it!” And then make it worse until luck comes around and makes it work, and then act like that was the plan the whole time? Abigail: …that’s my bad, I should’ve used a different phrase to express my disappointment.

- (I dunno why but John being super mean to some people is so fucking funny to me. I don't hate Bill, but bullying him is fun)

Bill: You enjoyin’ the wife everyone else paid to have? John: You mean the woman I never had to pay for? The woman who liked me so much, she didn’t ask for any money to sleep with me? In fact; she liked me so much, she married me? The woman who makes me a warm dinner and kisses me everyday? Mother of my child? John: I am enjoyin’ yeah. What about you, Bill? Bill: John: You enjoyin’ your lonely life, you unlovable sorry sack of shit? You enjoyin’ having to pay for someone to pretend they like you? Cause they never actually do. They hate you actually, like me. I hate you. Eat shit and die, Bill.

- Arthur: …him? Really? Mary-Beth Don’t be mean! Arthur: He looks like a rescue dog, Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth: I know, I like that! Arthur: ….you like that?? Mary-Beth: His pathetic wet eyes and general wimpy stature have captivated me. Arthur: *sigh* Whatever makes you happy.

- Bill: At the end of the day, Arthur. I am a MAN. Arthur: A MAN WHO’S GAY. You like fellers GETTHATTHROUGHYOURHEAD!

- Dutch: I have a plan. Hosea: You haven’t planned shit. Dutch: I’ve planned it.

- Hosea: Arthur! What on earth are you doing?! Young!Arthur: Getting rid of this demon. Young!John: *screeching and trying to get out of Arthur’s grip* Hosea: And why do you plan to get rid of him? Arthur: Because, Hosea! He woke me up by leaning over me and whispering, “I know what death feels like, it’s cold. Have you felt death?” Arthur: HE’S CLEARLY EVIL, HOSEA Hosea: That’s just how children are, Arthur. Dutch: He’s right son, put the boy down. Dutch, leaning and whispering to Hosea: But maybe we should buy a Bible just in case. Hosea: And a cross.

- (Modern au and suicide joke)

John: It’s not a phase! It’s a lifestyle, you just wouldn’t get it! Arthur: You think I didn’t go through the “I can’t tell if I want to kill myself or everyone around me” phase? Come on. John: What? I don’t wanna kill myself at all. Arthur: … John: … John: Should I- should we go talk to Hose- Arthur: We should forget this conversation happened. Take this Nirvana CD and keep your mouth shut.

- Abigail: …John. John: Yes, my angel? Abigail: You forgot something. John: No I didn’t! I took the list with me, checked it three times, even crossed things off when I put it in the cart! See, look. Apples, frozen hamhocks, cranberry juice- Abigail: John. You took Jack with you. John: Abigail: John: Abigail: John: SHIT I LEFT HIM BY THE PASTA SECTION Abigail: STOP STANDING THERE AND GO GET HIM!

- Jack: Pa, how did you get mom to marry you? John: Well son, I- John: John: I have no idea. Jack: Should I ask mom? John: I’ll be honest, I don’t think she knows the answer either.

- Charles: You did good back there. Arthur: Oh? Heh, nah, you did all the fancy stuff. I just helped. Charles: Don’t undersell yourself, Arthur. I wouldn’t be complimenting you for no reason. Arthur: Oh yeah? And here I thought you were just trying to fluff up my ego. Charles: Wouldn’t hurt to do when you work so hard, no? Arthur: Now you’re just being’ sweet- John: Can y’all wait til we’re done before you start your spiritual dick sucking? Arthur: Can you repent to the lord fast enough to save your soul in the time it’ll take me to throw you into the damn ocean, Marston?!

- Arthur: Do you even have a brain? John: Do you even have someone that loves you? Arthur: John: John: I heard it that time, I’m sorry. Arthur: This is what Abigail hears sometimes, just so you know. John: I heard it that time, I got it. I- I’ll just- Arthur: Whiskey, full bottle. The nice kind. John: Apology alcohol, got it.

-

NPC: My husband’s parents are so crazy. In-laws always are, huh? Abigail: Well, uh-

*John being an orphan* *John’s adoptive dads being criminals, one particularly off his rocker*

Abigail: ….aha, yeah;;

- Abigail: John Marston, you useless, foolish, stupid man! Bill: To hell with John! Abigail, suddenly with a very large gun: NO ONE INSULTS MY HUSBAND.

- Arthur, holding up a proper painting he actually put time and effort into: Could a depressed person make this? Charles: The painting: *a wolf in the rain laying it’s head over the body of a deer shot with an arrow* Charles: I’m, in fact, more convinced you have depression now. Arthur: …yeah this wasn’t the best evidence for my argument, huh? Charles: No. Not at all.

- John: What are you talking about? That’s completely normal, it’s like having opinions. just cause it doesn’t happen to you doesn’t mean- Tilly: No, John! No. It’s not normal to have that reaction to the sound of hearing metal on metal. John: No look, uh- Arthur! Arthur come here! Arthur: What now? John: What happens when you hear metal on metal? Like, a can bein’ rubbed with a knife. Arthur: Ugh, I hate that sound. It makes my damn skin crawl, like I got beetles underneath. Makes me wanna skin myself to get’em out. John: Right! See, Tilly? It’s not just me! Tilly: ????

Charles: …and you never got them evaluated? Hosea: In hindsight, an autistic diagnosis probably would’ve made more things make sense. But, what can ya do.

- Arthur after a dog didn’t positively react to him: Maybe this is my final straw. Charles: No. Arthur: It might be. Charles: It’s one dog. There are twenty that you stopped to pet along the way here, plenty more for you to pet after this. Arthur: You don’t understand, this is devastatin’. Charles: Arthur, please- Arthur: Utterly devastatin’, Charles.

- Arthur, tipsy: Just cause you’re gorgeous don’t mean I’ma do whatever you say. Charles: Drink the water, Arthur. Arthur: *grabs the glass* Yes, sir.

- (Got a Y/N one, also, modern Au)

Arthur: That’s the Aberdeen farm. Y/N: …what’s wrong with it? Arthur: What’cha mean? Y/N: The vibes, they’re off. Arthur: …the…vibes? Y/N: The energy, Mister Morgan. The vibe of the place. They’re off, they’re weird, wack even. I sense insidious and wretched wavelengths wafting from the aura of that property. Arthur: I see…well, to answer your question, it’s cause they are weird. And I ain’t even confirmed why cause I don’t really wanna know. Y/N: I see you can also sense the vibes are rank. Arthur: …sure, whatever that means.

- Micha: Well I think- Y/N: Well I’m certain no one fucking asked, Micha! Not a single damn person asked what the hell you thought, ever! In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t think. I’m pretty sure your skull fills with all the bullshit in your organs, and it just spills out your mouth! Micha: Micha: I- Y/N: Shut up, Micha!

- Arthur, after Albert explains some super dangerous plan in order to get wild animals near him to photograph: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.

- Y/N: Bye Arthur, bye Karen, bye Hosea, bye Arthur. Sadie: You said ‘bye Arthur’ twice. Y/N: I like Arthur.

- NPC: Lovebirds, eh? Sadie: Arthur: Sadie: I’d rather eat a poison ivy plant with Holly Berries for dressing. *looks at Arthur* No offense. Arthur: No no, none taken. All things considered, I’d rather dive into a pit of tar and then drag myself face first through a plain of rotten chitlins. Sadie: Completely fair!

- Bill: I need you to realize you ain’t in charge here. Y/N: I need you to realize I don’t give a shit.

- Arthur: Hey Charles, uh, I got an Uhm…a spiritual question. Charles: Any particular reason you chose to ask me? Arthur: Uh well- I didn’t mean for it to be like that- I just- Charles: *sigh* What is it? Arthur: Do you know what it means when an elk stands up on its back legs? Charles: That means- Charles: WE SHOULD LEAVE, we need to leave, that’s what that means!

- Jack: …why are your boobs so big? Charles: They’re not boobs. Jack: Do you have to wear a brasier? Charles: *sigh* Arthur: He asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago, don’t think to hard bout it.

-

(Story spoilers!!) Y/N: I'm sorry, let me get this straight. Y/N: You picked up that man when he was a destitute child, grieving and starving. Taught him almost everything he knows. Y/N: Then, you did that with, what? Three others? In similar circumstances? Y/N: Created a sense of family and community, a strong bond between so many misfortuned people. With your trustworthy long term friend by your side. Y/N: And then. Y/N: One RAT. WHO IS OPENLY ANTAGONISTIC AND REEKS OF SUSPICION AS MUCH AS HE DOES HORSE SHIT, SOMEHOW CONVINCES YOU TO GO OFF YOUR ROCKER AND HARM YOUR GANG?! Y/N: Explain! Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: He praised me- Y/N: YOUR PRAISE KINK GOT YOU TO AIM A GUN AT YOUR SONS????

- Arthur: Naaah they’re an angel. Lenny: They punched Bill in the face. Seán: They told Strauss he was a waste of human material, in his own language, which they’re not fluent in. Mary-Beth: They framed Micha for a crime and got him put in prison again. Arthur: Like I said, an angel!

- John: Woman. (Translation: Darling.) Abigail: Moron. (Translation: Lovebug.)

Arthur: You tellin’ me they’re being affectionate right now? Jack: Can’t’cha read subtext, Uncle Arthur? Arthur: ???

-

(Insert Alcohol is truth serum reference)

Drunk Bill: Not to be gay, but you’re gorgeous bro. Kieran, afraid: You don’t have to be gay to appreciate a man’s beauty. Absolutely shit-faced Bill: Nah, like I’d fuck you, bro. Kieran, terrified: Okay, never mind!

- (How I imagine their first couple years together went)

Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: How do you feel about me? Hosea, naked & beside him: ….we’re sharin’ a bedroll, Dutch. Dutch: Yes, but what are we, Hosea? Hosea: ….we’re both naked, alone, in a tent, Dutch. Dutch: That doesn’t answer my question. Hosea:

- (This one's sad, not funny, sorry-) John: You’re such a hypocrite, why is it that anything I do that you’ve done before that you get so bent outta shape?! Arthur: Because I’ve done it before you, John. John: So why do you think it’s fair to tell me not to?! Most people are proud when their younger brother ends up like’em. You don’t want anyone like you, is that it? Arthur: John: John: …oh. Arthur: Now that you got my point, will you take my god damn advice without a big fuss…please.

- John: She drives me insane! She somehow managed to make me the angriest I’ve ever been almost daily. NPC: Then leave her. John: The fu- no. What? She’s the wind beneath my wings, my darling wife, my beautiful angel. How the hell could you even think to suggest such a thing? NPC: But- John: Get outta my sight, you fuckin’ disgrace.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

for @vampiregirl1797

“I just feel like we should put all our cards on the table before we go...all in. I’d like to go all in, but I feel like we need to be straight with each other about some stuff.”

“Oooookay,” Eddie says slowly, lowering himself to sit at the table. He had to shuffle the chair back a bit to fit the bump, “uhm, right.” Eddie feels kind of sick. Not the morning sickness kind, that’s long gone now, just the regular this is the End Of The Steve Thing kind of sick. Because someone basically saying we need to talk has never, not once, turned out well.

So.

Eddie maybe hasn’t come clean about anything. Eddie’s maybe been spending months scenting Steve curled up on his couch watching shitty movies. Eddie maybe just said the pups father isn’t in the picture and didn’t elaborate. Eddie maybe thought Steve had just bought that.

But Steve wants the truth, and Eddie’s going to let him have it, even though when Steve finds out what a little drug dealing slut of an Omega Eddie has been, like, historically, this might be it for straight laced Steve.

The End.

“I started in the library because I was doing community restitution.”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a sort of halt. Because wait. This was about Eddie admitting he’s a shit human being, right? Not for Steve to admit to doing anything wrong…? Wasn't it?

“Community restitution?” Eddie starts slowly, “like...you’re a criminal?”

Steve snorts but then looks at the table, fiddling with his own fingers before he looks back up again, “yeah. Kinda’.”

“And the crime was..?”

“Property damage. Rob’s boss tried to touch her up and then when she walked he screwed her out of her last pay check. It was her word against his so that didn’t go anywhere and...I may have smashed a couple of windows. A dozen. A dozen windows. While intoxicated.”

Eddie can’t even imagine that. Steve’s wearing fucking slippers and he’s at home now, so he’s swapped into the glasses that have an old people chain so he can hang them around his neck and not loose them, “I mean. Sounds...like a fair response. Yeah. Okay.”

“Sure?” Steve looks uncertain.

“I mean? If that's the worst thing you've ever done I’m pretty sure were good?”

Steve hums, it’s not a positive sound, “you know I’m,” he indicates the sides of his head. Steve’s told Eddie about the concussions. The sports scholarship. The one too many hits to the head and then the burst eardrum and the following infections that fucked his hearing up real good and pretty conclusively ended his career before it even started.

“Yeah?”

“Right, so without them in, I mean, I don’t wear them to sleep.”

And Eddie hadn’t thought about that, didn’t realize, because he hasn’t actually slept with Steve yet. Because Steve was courting him. Properly courting him. They have date night. It’s so fucking domestic Eddie nearly turns inside out over it.

Also Steve works in a library and he read somewhere that the bite of an Alpha who is not the sire of the pup can, in a few rare cases, cause the Omega’s body to fail the pregnancy and like...reject the pup in favor of having another heat so it can carry the pup of their actual mate. Or something. And because of that Steve won’t do more than kiss Eddie. Because he’s not willing to even take the risk that he might bite Eddie in the heat of the moment. He’s so fucking committed he actually offered to get Eddie off. Was very clear that he wanted absolutely nothing in return, was just happy to do hand or even mouth stuff to keep Eddie happy if that’s what he wanted.

Steve is like, just, how is he even real? And obviously Eddie said no because he's not a complete dick and saying yes felt incredibly selfish, even though he's been kicking himself every day since because when Eddie makes a decision Steve fucking respects that.

Fucking perfect loveable bastard.

Which is as adorable as it is fucking frustrating. But Eddie has also agreed that they will wait. They will wait until the pups born. They will wait for such time as Eddie can fully focus on a relationship. Whatever Steve means by that because Eddie is horny and doesn’t really care for the waiting part but-

“So I’m pretty deaf, at night.”

“Riiiight…?” Eddie has no idea where Steve’s going with this. Eddie is clearly fucking missing something along the line here.

“So when the pup cries at night, I won’t hear it. Like I definitely won’t hear it. And I get that, someone who can help more would be more appealing. Sometimes I don’t hear so good if there’s a lot of noise, so I’m worried if the pup cries and like, the TV’s on or something, I might not hear right away. And if you’re tired, I want to help at night, it’s not fair if you have to wake up all the time. I know I should have said something sooner but honestly it only really occurred to me today at work-”

Eddie’s heart is fucking melting into his guts. This is too much. Steve Harrington who smashes windows in defense of his best friend's honor. Steve Harrington who actually worries about his ability to look after another Alpha’s pup. This man. Eddie doesn’t know what to do and now his stupid face is leaking because he cries at fucking everything at the moment and Steve is looking at him absolutely horrified. Jesus Christ on a cracker.

Steve dashes around the table and dabs Eddie’s eyes with his own sleeve, while Eddie blubs incoherently about how perfect Steve is and how he’s the best Alpha ever.

So. There’s that.

Later, when Eddie’s finally managed to stop crying, but is lying splotchy faced on the couch, admits to Steve, “I’m not sure who the Alpha is. And they’re all douches so I didn’t want to hang around to find out.”

“Oh,” Steve says quietly, rubbing at Eddie’s knee, “do you want to find out now?”

“Still no. And, I get if you think it’s...wrong or...selfish...or whatever. I understand if you...you know, don’t like that I was sleeping around a bit.”

Steve seems to actually ponder that for a while, so Eddie decides to go all in and put the final nail in his own coffin, “also, I used to sell drugs. And do drugs. Some drugs. But not now. Not touched it since I found out about the pup. Haven’t been selling since I came back. Or smoking actually,” Eddie sighs, “could kill for a smoke right now though.”

Steve’s quiet for a long time, thinking. “Is the Alpha...likely to find out? Could this come back on you?”

Eddie bites his lip, taking a moment over it, “I don’t see how it ever could, no.”

Steve sighs, “okay, and clearly you weren't being safe, so did you get tested?”

Eddie swallows thickly, desperately trying not to start crying again, the embarrassment of admitting this out loud to Steve, Steve who is just so much better than him, might eat him alive, “yeah. Yeah, first uhm, appointment I had with the Omega nurse, we did all that. I’m all good. And I haven’t...been with anyone, since I got back to Hawkins.”

“So, basically, you found out about your pup and changed everything about your life, so you could do the best thing you possibly could for you baby, practically overnight?”

“I- I mean. I’ve tried?”

Steve pulls Eddie up and into his lap, so they can scent each other thoroughly, “Eddie, I think you’re wonderful.”

And Eddie shoves his face harder into Steve’s neck because he’s pretty sure his whole face is bright red with blush.

Eddie’s knee is bouncing, making the chain from his wallet jiggle, but he doesn’t seem to be able to make it stop. Steve rests his hand on Eddie’s disobedient knee; that works.

When Eddie’s name gets called, he goes, knowing that Steve is right behind him. They do the boring bit, and then Eddie is getting up on the bed and then the nurse is saying, “are you staying?” With a frown on her face.

And Steve looks down to Eddie and Eddie says, “yes?” and is then suddenly bristling at the side eye they are both getting from this nurse. Because yes, okay, Eddie doesn’t have a bite, and yes, fine, he and Steve aren’t mated but god dammit he wants Steve here for this.

He can feel the stupid nurse judging him and he fucking hates it but then Steve is squeezing his fingers reassuringly and yeah, okay, that does make it better.

Eddie doesn’t like the cold gel or the pressure, but he does love hearing his pups heartbeat. He really fucking does. It’s quick and strong and perfect.

“Would you like to know the sex?”

Eddie looks at Steve, but Steve’s just smiling and shrugging and being all perfect still. Happy to go along with whatever Eddie wants. Everything Eddie wants. Even though it’s technically not Steve’s choice anyway, even though it’s not Steve’s pup. Even though all of that, some Alphas would be presumptuous enough to pass an opinion, or worse; Steve absolutely never has.

And Eddie was always the kind of kid who shook the Christmas gifts, who couldn’t sleep, who couldn’t wait.

“Yeah, yeah please?”

“It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” and Eddie can feel the waterworks starting up again already and it doesn’t help when he looks up and Steve is looking at the screen with a look of wonder on his face. Steve looks like he’s in love. “I’d like to refer you though, for a routine investigation.”

Eddie’s nerves spark even though the nurse lady hasn’t given any indication of anything being wrong, “what for?”

She hums, moving the wand thing around, “it’s reasonably common in male Omega that their hips are too narrow to safely pass the pup. And from what I see here you may fall into that category, we should find out now and not in the delivery room.”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand again, “yeah. Yeah, makes sense.”

At least it means there’s no guesswork. Eddie isn’t waiting to go into labor; his narrow hips mean he has a date and time to meet his pup. He wants Steve with him, Wayne doesn’t even question it; is happy to sit in the waiting room with his newspaper and wordie or whatever that thing is he plays on his phone. There’s a curtain up, and Eddie can’t feel a fucking thing from the chest down because of the godamn terrifying needle thing they’ve put in his spine. So at least there’s that.

It feels like forever and no time at all, a lifetime of trying desperately not to panic while Steve holds his hand tight and tells him everything is okay. And god Eddie wants to snap and ask him where his sudden medical degree has come from, but he doesn’t, he bites it back, knows it’s the fear talking.

And then there’s a pup crying and she’s a bit gross and covered in gack but she’s being deposited straight onto Eddie’s bare chest and he doesn’t know what to do because suddenly he’s a parent. But Steve coos down at her and doesn’t seem at all phased by the gack when he holds her tiny hand oh so gently in his big one.

Eddie wakes up, and his calves are throbbing. He feels like he's actually run somewhere, and has the worst cramp. But then, he wriggles his toes and realizes he can feel everything again, even if he wishes he couldn't because everything fucking hurts.

Right behind that, he remembers why everything fucking hurts, and that startles him the rest of the way awake, suddenly flooded with panic because where is-?

Oh. All he has to do it look to the side, and she's right there, swaddled up in Steve's arms, Steve comfortably feeding her a bottle.

Steve must sense he's awake grinning over, "did you see how much hair she has? It's going to be just like yours." And Steve looks so absolutely delighted by that simple thing, and Eddie can't help but think that maybe this whole thing will work out okay.

[kenacoki]

After Nightfall

// Pairing // Eddie Diaz x GN!Reader

// Request // Y/n has a nightmare about Eddie dying and wakes up scared which accidentally wakes Eddie up. She reverts into flight mode and runs out of the house and Eddie runs after her. She runs into an alleyway and starts crying and Eddie finds her and comforts her.

// Word Count // 7k

// Warnings // mentions of death and blood

// Dividers // sister-lucifer

As you walk through the front door into Eddie’s house, you set your bags on the floor, “You really didn’t have to do this, Ed’s. I-I coulda got a hotel room or something until they get the gas leak fixed in my apartment.”

Eddie shakes his head, closing the door behind you and locking it. He turns to face you, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, it’s no problem.” He averts his attention to the small boy sitting on the couch. “Besides, you know how much I-Chris—How much Christopher loves having you around.” The tips of his ears flush red with embarrassment at his almost slip-up.

You smile at his words, thoughts of his adorable son bringing you a sense of comfort. He takes a step closer, his eyes studying your face closely.

“And besides, you know I’d never let you pay for a hotel room when you could just stay here instead.”

You can feel your face heat up slightly, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you at his words. You know he’s just being friendly, but there’s a hint of something else in his eyes that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I...I just don’t want to impose or anything…” you nervously mutter.

Eddie chuckles softly, his expression growing a bit softer, “You’re not imposing, you know that. Besides,” His deep honey-colored eyes pierce into yours, “I like knowing you’re here…close by.”

His words send a flutter through your stomach. You’re not sure what it is, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel almost giddy.

He continues into his kitchen, opening his fridge and scanning the shelves. “You hungry for anything particular?”

You follow him into the kitchen, your (e/c) eyes taking in the familiar small space. It’s cozy and comfortable, just like the rest of his little home. You lean against the counter, folding your arms over your chest as you shake your head.

“Not really, just something small is fine..“ you reply a bit absentmindedly, still a bit distracted by his words from before and the fluttering in your stomach. You snap your attention over to Christopher, “What about you, Chris?”

Eddie rummages through his fridge for a moment before pulling out a Tupperware of leftovers and placing it on the counter. He smiles, his eyes sparkling with a sort of fond excitement at the mention of his son.

“Actually, he’s spending the night with a new friend, a kid named Dustin. They met a few days ago and practically bonded instantly. I swear, those two are like peas in a pod..” he chuckles softly, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

“Sounds like about like you and Buck…” you joke, glancing back at the small boy on the couch.

Eddie smiles, a sly twinkle in his eyes at your comment. He leans against the counter next to you, nodding slightly in agreement.

“Yeah, maybe a little. Except I’m smarter than Buck so...” he says jokingly, his teasing tone playful.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes at his comment. You know he’s just teasing, but you can’t help but banter back.

“Oh yeah, says who?” You challenge, your eyes flickering to his, a small smile on your face.

He grins, enjoying the playful back-and-forth. He leans in a bit closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Says me,” he retorts, his tone confident and sure. He pauses for a moment before adding, “And also Buck. He’s admitted multiple times that I’m the smarter one.”

You snort, shaking your head in amused disbelief.

“Yeah right, I’m sure he said that..” you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You know Buck all too well and know for a fact that he would never admit Eddie is smarter than him; even if it was partly true.

You watch as he opens up the leftover container and grabs two bowls from a shelf in his cabinet. He grabs a spoon and evenly divides the food into each one.

He hands over one of the bowls, your fingers just barely brushing against his. For a brief moment, your eyes lock, and for a second you swear you see a tiny flash of something in his gaze. However, it’s gone in an instant, quickly replaced by his usual playful confidence.

“Oh, believe me, he did.” He says, a hint of pride in his tone. “He’s just too stubborn to admit it in front of anyone else.”

Taking the bowl from him, you roll your eyes once more. But can’t help the smile that sneaks onto your face at his insistence. There’s just something so undeniably charming about his confidence, his ability to banter back and forth with you like this…

“Alright, whatever you say, Ed’s. Just don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

He chuckles, grabbing his own bowl and joining you at the counter. He raises his bowl slightly in a mock “cheers” gesture.

“No promises.” He says, his tone jokingly cocky. He takes a bite of his food, a satisfied hum leaving his lips at the taste. He eyes you from the side, a sly smile on his face.

Chuckling slightly, you shake your head at his smugness. You take a bite of the food, mirroring his satisfied hum. The food is actually pretty damn good, just the right amount of spices and seasonings.

“what is this?” You question, slightly muffled by the food in your mouth.

He grins, taking another bite before replying, “It’s something my abuela used to make,” he says, fondly recalling a memory. “It’s a sort of chicken and rice dish with this secret blend of spices. I’ve gotten pretty good at it if I do say so myself.”

There’s a hint of pride in his voice as he explains.

Humming in approval, you take another bite. It really is good, and the fact that it’s something his abuela used to make makes it taste even more special.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s an understatement,” your mouth still half full as you speak. You swallow before continuing, “This is really good, Ed’s. I’m impressed.”

Eddie has a tiny smile on his face as you praise his cooking. He seems almost shy as he ducks his head slightly, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.

“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice suddenly a bit bashful. He takes another bite, trying to hide his slight embarrassment.

There’s a knock at the door, Eddie sets his bowl down on the counter, “That must be Dustin’s parents. Let me grab Christopher’s stuff real fast.”

You nod, finishing the last bite of your food. You set the bowl down on the counter next to his, watching as he heads down the hallway toward Christopher’s room.

After a moment of silence, you can hear snippets of their conversation through the house as Eddie greets Dustin’s parent and hands them Christopher’s bags.

“I love you, bud…” your heart swells as you hear Eddie say goodbye to his son for night. They exchange their thanks and leave, saying their goodbyes to Eddie as they do so.

Hearing the front door close, Eddie reappears in the kitchen after a few moments. He looks a bit distracted though, leaning back against the counter and letting out a small melancholy sigh.

You study him momentarily, noticing the slight shift in his demeanor. You’re not sure what’s on his mind, but you can tell something’s off.

“Everything okay?” You ask him, your voice soft and concerned.

He seems surprised by your question as if he had been lost in his own thoughts for a second.

“Hm?” He hums, blinking a few times before his brain catches up. “Oh.. yeah, I’m fine…Just-just lost in thought for a moment, is all.”

You eye him doubtfully, clearly not entirely convinced by his response.

“Are you sure?” You question a hint of worry still in evident your tone. You lean against the counter next to him, studying his face closely in an attempt to read his expression.

He flashes a faint, reassuring smile, trying to downplay whatever is going on in his head. But his eyes give away his true thoughts, the slight unease and tension still lingering in their depths.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry about it.” He says, his voice sounding almost forced. He notices that your bowl is nowempty and grabs it, turning around and placing it in his sink.

You don’t quite buy his response, not fooled by his attempt at nonchalance. But you can tell he’s not in the mood to share or talk about what’s going on in that head of his, so you decide not to press him too much.

Nodding slightly you just hum in acknowledgment, suppressing any remaining suspicion. Eddie quickly changes the subject.

“Hey, you want to watch a movie or something?”

You can tell he’s trying to deflect and change the subject from what’s going on in his head, but decide to let it slide for now.

“Sure, yeah. What do you have in mind?”

He grins, his eyes lighting up slightly.

“How about a horror movie?” he suggests a hint of mischief in his voice.

You let out a small scoff, immediately catching on to his game. You narrow your eyes at him, a scowl forming on your face.

“Very funny, Eddie.” You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a disapproving look.

He grins innocently, the mischief now clear in his eyes. He knows the effect movies like that have on you, and he revels in it.

“What? I’m just asking a simple question..” he says, feigning ignorance. He leans a bit closer, his tone becoming more teasing. “Scared you won’t be able to handle it?”

You glare at him, the annoyance evident on your face. Damn him for always finding ways to tease and rile you up like this…

“Oh, please. I can handle a damn movie, no problem.” You practically growl out, your pride taking over. You strut over to the couch and plop down.

He chuckles, clearly enjoying how easily he’s getting under your skin. He follows you over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“If you say so.” He replies, his tone still playful and smug. He grabs the remote off the coffee table and scrolls through the movie selection. “Any particular one you want me to put on? Or should I pick?”

You roll your eyes, not even dignifying his smugness with a response. You can already tell he’s going to pick the most horrifying movie possible, just to mess with you.

“You pick.” You dramatically grumble, your voice filled with both annoyance and a hint of resignation.

His grin widens at the response, clearly overjoyed at the opportunity to pick something that’s going to make you squirm. He continues browsing through the selection for a few moments before stopping on a particularly scary-looking movie.

“What about this one?” he holds up the remote and points it at the TV. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, a sly smile still plastered on his face.

Looking at the TV, your eyes widen as they skim over the screen. As soon as you catch sight of the movie title, a shiver runs down your spine.

“No way,” you say, voice firm and resolute.

He feigns shock at my refusal, his brown eyes widening, “What, why not? It looks like a good one...” he says, his tone overly innocent. He turns to you, his eyes practically glittering with mischief.

“You’re not really scared, are you?”

You scoff, annoyance growing with every word that leaves his mouth. You can practically see the taunting gleam in his eyes, and it only irritates you further.

“Of course, I’m not scared.” You quip back, voice full of faux confidence. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that the movie is actually terrifying.

He smirks, clearly not buying my act for even a second. But he plays along anyway, his voice dripping with faux concern, “You’re not going to get nightmares, are you?”

Your (e/c) eyes playfully glare at him, your irritation continuing to rise.

“Oh, please. I don’t get nightmares from stupid movies, dumbass. And even if I did, I’d just wake up from it. No big deal…” You retort your tone laced with annoyance.

You yank the remote from his hand and press play, sinking back further into the couch.

He lets out a soft laugh at your display of defiance, clearly amused by your stubbornness. He watches the TV as the movie starts to play, his gaze occasionally flickering back towards you. His eyes sparkle with a hint of anticipation.

“Whatever you say,” he responds, his mocking tone making it clear that he doesn’t believe you.

The movie continues, and you keep your focus strictly on the screen, refusing to give Eddie the satisfaction of seeing you scared.

As the movie progresses, the tension in the room thickens, almost palpably. Despite the gore occurring on screen, you force yourself to keep up a neutral expression.

However, as the movie becomes more and more intense, your heart rate quickens ever so slightly.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie notices the slight shift in your demeanor.

He sees the way your body tenses up as the movie becomes more intense, the subtle clench of your jaw as the suspense builds. But he doesn’t say anything, not yet anyway. He just continues to watch you closely, waiting for the moment when you finally crack.

As the movie's plot takes a particularly sinister turn, the tension in your body reaches its peak. Your fingers grip the edge of the couch tightly as your heart beats faster and faster, the sound of it thumping loudly in your ears. You try your best to keep up the facade, to keep a stoic expression. But as the movie gets progressively more horrifying, you can feel your resolve starting to waver—

“Boo…” Eddie's breath fans against your ear.

You nearly jump out of your skin at his sudden voice. Your heartbeat practically shoots through the roof. A surprised squeak escapes your lips before you can stop it, your body jolting forward instinctively.

"Jesus Christ!" You yell, your voice a mixture of fear and annoyance as you turn to glare at him. “Don't do that!"

He grins at your reaction, clearly relishing in the fact that he’s successfully scared you. He chuckles softly, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement, "I Couldn't help myself."

“You..you’re an ass sometimes.” You swiftly reach over and mess up his hair, teasing him playfully.

He gives a faux indignant scoff, attempting to look offended by my words, but the grin on his face betrays his true amusement. As you mess up his hair, he laughs softly, trying to duck away from your hand.

“Hey, hey!” He protests in a mock-upset tone, playfully batting your hand away. “Watch it. You’ll mess up my hair.”

Hearing his somewhat dramatic response to your little attack, you can't help but chuckle in response. You know he's just messing around.

"Oh, right. My bad. Can't have that perfect hair getting messed up, can we?" You tease, voice dripping with sarcastic sympathy as you ruffle his hair up even more.

Eddie laughs again as you mess up his hair, the gesture sending his bangs falling across his forehead in a disheveled mess. He tries to feign annoyance again, but the laughter keeps slipping out. He lifts his hand to try and fix his hair, but it's no use. You’ve completely ruined the carefully-styled look he had going on, and he knows it.

However, after you playfully mess it up with your fingers, it becomes more tousled and disheveled, sticking up in a way that somehow makes him look even more ruggedly handsome. A hint of annoyance flashes in his eyes as he quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to smooth it back down, but he can't quite hide the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

It’s quite a contrast from his usual meticulously-styled look, but somehow it suits him just as much. Despite the slightly ridiculous appearance, he still looks effortlessly attractive.

“You look like a freaking mess now.” You comment, a playful grin on your face.

He rolls his eyes, but the laughter still tumbles from his lips. He gives you a half-hearted glare, pretending to be irritated by the comment, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Gee, thanks. You really know how to flatter a guy, don’t you?” He retorts, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

You give an exaggerated shrug as your grin widens.

“What can I say? I’m just that good.” You slyly tease as you lean back further into the couch. Your eyes grow heavy as they look at the clock on the wall.

Eddie shakes his head in mock exasperation, still trying and failing to fix his hair. He glances over at the clock as well, his own eyes growing a bit heavy.

“It’s getting late.” He yawns out, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.

You nod in agreement, a small yawn of your own escaping your lips once again. Carefully, you stretch your arms above your head, your muscles protesting at the motion. As you do this, the hem of your shirt rides up an inch, exposing a sliver of bare skin.

“Yeah, it is.” You agree, voice a bit groggy. You lean your head back against the couch, eyes fluttering slightly. “Maybe we should get some sleep..”

Eddie notices your exposed skin as you stretch, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before he quickly averts his eyes. He clears his throat softly, trying to distract himself from the sight. He nods in agreement with your suggestion.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should get some sleep..” He agrees, his voice tinged with weariness.

You notice his brief glance at you, but as quickly as it’s there, it’s gone again. It makes you feel strangely self-conscious for a moment, but you shake off the feeling quickly. You’re both tired, it's probably nothing.

The movie on the TV continues to play in the background, but neither of you is paying attention to it anymore. It’s mostly just white noise now. Eddie stands up from the couch, his body stiff from sitting for so long.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth and stuff…” He says, stifling a yawn with his hand. “Goodnight.

“Okay…” you call out, voice soft and groggy with the need for sleep. You watch as he heads off down the hallway towards the bathroom. Letting out a small yawn, the exhaustion from the day finally starts to get to me.

“Night…” You mutter, your words slurring together slightly in your sleepy state. Slowly, you head down the hall to Eddie’s guest bedroom.

After a few minutes, Eddie returns from the bathroom, now clad in a pair of pajama pants. His hair is still messy from earlier, the strands sticking out every which way. He makes his way down the hallway to his own room and crawls into bed, the exhaustion now taking over as he closes his eyes and drifts off into sleep.

Carefully, you crawl into the bed and pull the covers up to your chin as darkness starts creeping into your vision.

The soft, welcoming embrace of sleep begins to envelop you, as the fatigue of the day starts to take over. You feel yourself begin to sink into the bed, the mattress molding perfectly to your form. Your thoughts slowly start to dissolve as sleep finally pulls you under. You can feel your eyelids closing as your mind begins to slip into unconsciousness.

The gentle sounds of night filter in through the window, the crickets singing their melodic lullaby. The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the room, creating a peaceful, calming atmosphere.

As you sink deeper and deeper into sleep, your mind begins to wander, slowly losing touch with reality. Your breathing slows, and your body grows heavy and relaxed. The world around you fades away, your mind drifting off into a dream, blending reality and fantasy into a vivid, surreal world.

When your eyes open again, one thing is for sure; you’re inside your apartment; more specifically your living room. You can practically smell the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air from earlier in the day. The furniture is exactly where you left it, nothing amiss. The room is silent and still causing an uneasy feeling to form in your gut.

Walking further into the apartment, your footsteps echo softly throughout the quiet space. You glance around as you move towards the kitchen, your steps getting more cautious. There’s a small part of your mind that’s screaming at you, telling you that something's wrong, that this isn’t right.

Entering the space, your eyes scan the room for anything out of place. Your breath hitches in your throat as you see the silhouette of a man behind your kitchen island.

“Eddie…?” The figure whips around. They look exactly like Eddie, down to every last detail. Their clothes, their hair, even the faint scruff on their jaw.

You freeze in place, your heart nearly stopping as you take in the person standing in front of you.

“Wha-how…how did you—how did we get here? I thought we were at—”

“Shhhh..”

Your heartbeat quickens in your chest, the fear starting to take over. You take a small backward step, your wide (e/c) eyes locked on the figure in front of you.

He takes a step closer to you, his gaze fixed on you. The gesture is so familiar, mirroring the way Eddie moves and acts so perfectly it’s almost eerie.

“Why…why didn’t you help?” He questions, a twisted smile on his face.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your blood turning cold. The smile on his face is almost sinister, a sharp contrast to how Eddie usually smiles.

“What?” You manage to croak out, your voice coming out small and afraid.

He takes another step towards you, his footsteps silent on the floor. He moves unnaturally as if he’s simply gliding across the room. Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears as he gets closer, every one of your instincts telling you to run.

“Why didn’t you help me?” He repeats, his tone cold and curt.

Hearing his repeated question, a wave of confusion washes over you. Help who? Him? You lost, unsure of what he’s talking about.

“H-help—Eddie what are you talking…” you trail off, your voice hoarse with fear as you notice a tiny, almost missable stain on his shirt.

Then slowly, almost tauntingly, a sickening pool of crimson starts to spread across and stain the shoulder of Eddie’s grey shirt.

The sight of the red stain sends a jolt of fear through you, your eyes fixed on the growing spot of blood as it spreads across his shirt… just like when he was shot by the sniper.

He doesn’t seem to realize it’s there, or he just doesn’t care. He keeps moving forward, closing the space between you.

A million thoughts run through your head, each one more terrifying than the last. You try to back away further, but you can’t seem to move your feet. It’s as if you’ve been frozen in place, trapped under his intense gaze.

“Eddie..” you manage to whisper out, your voice barely a hoarse whisper. “What’s happening?”

He smiles again, the expression sending another wave of chills down your spine. He stops moving, standing just a few feet away from you. His gaze scans over your form, taking in every detail.

The intensity of his gaze causes you to shrink in on yourself, your body instinctively trying to make yourself smaller. The urge to run away is stronger than ever.

“Please,” you plead, voice shaking as you try to keep yourself together. “please wake up…please wake up.”

He seems to find the request amusing, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. It sounds like Eddie’s laugh, but there’s an undertone of malice in it

“Wake up?” He says, his tone almost mocking as he takes another step towards you. “But aren’t you already awake?”

Abruptly, he grabs your hand and brings it against his damp shoulder, staining your hand a crimson red

Gasping, you can feel the sticky, warm liquid against your palm and fingers as you're forced to touch it, the feeling causing a wave of nausea to wash over you

“No...no this isn’t real.” You mumble, denial and disbelief warring with each other.

once again you attempt to wrench your hand away from his grasp, to break free, but he holds it firmly in place. He keeps it planted against his shoulder, forcing her to feel the blood seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“Isn’t real?” He replies, his tone almost mocking as he speaks. “Looks real to me.”

He glances down at the stain on his shirt, acting as if he’s just noticed it for the first time. His brown eyes widen in horror as he looks back at you before collapsing to the floor of your apartment.

“Eddie!” You scream, your knees hitting the floor as you crumble beside him.

Blood pools on the floor beneath him, seeping out from the bullet wound in his shoulder, staining the wooden floor a sickening shade of red. His face is twisted in agony, a silent scream caught in his throat as his body tremors uncontrollably. Despite your best efforts, it's clear that he's fighting a losing battle, his strength and resilience gradually being overpowered by the onslaught of pain and injury.

“G-Get up! Eddie…” The sight of him lying there on the floor in agony, his life slowly slipping away, sends a wave of anguish through your heart.

Your hands shake as you try to stop the flow of blood oozing from his shoulder. You can see the life slowly draining from his eyes, the light fading as he struggles to stay conscious. His breath comes out in shallow, ragged gasps, each oneweaker than the last. It's like watching a slow, torturous countdown, every tick of the clock bringing him closer to the end.

“Eddie!” Your body jerks up in the guest bed as you’re snapped out of the horrible nightmare.

Panting heavily, your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. You look around the room in a panic, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It’s dark, but you can see the familiar contour of Eddie’s furniture in the room.

You sit there for a few more moments, trying to slow your racing heart. The nightmare had been so vivid, so realistic…you can still practically feel the blood on your hand, the wetness, the warmth of it.

You can’t help but shudder at the memory, wiping your hand furiously on the blanket as if trying to rid yourself of the phantom sensation.

Still slightly disoriented, you stagger up from the bed. Flinging open the bedroom door, you practically stumble out into the hall. Your body still shakes slightly from the after-effects of the nightmare. You can still see the image of it fresh in your mind…

Logic tells you that the nightmare isn’t real, that it was just a fear-fueled dream, but the fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins makes it difficult to think straight. The silence of the apartment is almost deafening in your heightened state.

“I-I can’t be here…” It feels like you can’t breathe like the air is suddenly too thin as panic starts setting in. The fear coursing through you outweighs your common sense. Your brain tells you that you need to get out of here.

“Mmm..? (Y/N)…?” The sound of Eddie’s voice jolts you out of your panic for a moment. Whirling around, your gaze lands on Eddie as he emerges from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he yawns. “What are you doing?”

He’s clad in a pair of grey pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looks tired and disoriented, his eyes half-lidded as he takes in the sight of you.

You feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sight of him standing there safe and unharmed fills you with a sense of peace. However, the fear from the nightmare is still there, lurking in the back of your mind.

You struggle to find your voice, your throat dry and constricted.

“I-I’m sorry…” You fling open the front door, the warm night air engulfing you as you take off down the sidewalk.

Eddie is taken completely off guard by your hasty exit, his sleep-addled mind trying to process what just happened. He stands there at the door for a moment, dumbfounded and disoriented.

It takes him a few moments to snap out of his stupor, his tiredness instantly replaced with worry once he realizes that you’ve left.

“Wait…!” He calls out, stumbling out the door after you.

He struggles to keep up with you, his tired legs slower than yours. He tries to call your name again, but he’s out of breath from running, the words coming out as more of a gasp.

“(Y/n) wait, stop-!” He manages to catch up to you, reaching out to grab your arm.

You flinch at the feel of his hand on your arm, it can’t help but remind you of the nightmare…but in the back of your mind, you know it’s just Eddie.

Your Eddie.

Halting, you tear your arm away from his grasp, whipping around to face him.

He’s breathing heavily, his face flush from the short run. He looks at you with confusion-filled eyes, bewildered by your sudden exit and the look of fear etched on your face.

“What the hell’s wrong…?” He pants out, trying to catch his breath.

You look at him for a moment, the fear and panic still lingering in your eyes. The words spill out before you can stop them.

“I-I had a nightmare..” you stammer out, voice trembling slightly as you force yourself to continue “About…you.”

Your voice softens at the last few words, guilt seeping into your tone. You feel bad for just tearing out of his house in the middle of the night.

He looks down at you, his expression still confused and a bit bewildered. He runs a hand through his messy hair, processing her words.

“About me…?” He asks, the confusion evident in his voice. He doesn’t look angry or offended, just curious.

Your lip quivers as you avert your gaze down to the cracked sidewalk, “Back…Back when you were shot by the sniper.”

Recognition flickers across his features as you mention the sniper, his body tensing slightly. He’s silent for a moment, his expression turning into a grimace as he remembers the painful memory.

“Oh..” He mutters, his voice low.

He reaches a hand up to rub the spot on his shoulder where the sniper had shot him, a ghost of pain flaring up temporarily. The gesture seems involuntary, almost like an instinctual reflex.

“Yeah…that was a pretty shitty experience.” He mutters, his tone dry and humorless.

A pang of guilt shoots through you as you watch him rub his shoulder. You hadn’t meant to bring up the painful memory, you’d just blurted out the first thing that came to your mind.

Fidgeting under his gaze, you shift awkwardly where you stand. With your (e/c) eyes filled with hot tears, you keep your attention fixated on the ground; you don’t want Eddie to see you in this state.

He looks at you, surprise flickering across his face for a brief moment at your apology. He shakes his head “Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He replies, his tone softer than before.

You know that, but still, “I know it’s not..but…but the nightmare…” you trail off, struggling to put your thoughts into words.

He lets out a deep sigh, his expression turning sympathetic. He takes a step closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face.

“Hey, it was just a dream…” He says gently, gesturing to himself as if to prove his point. Exhaling, He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it above his shoulders.

before you can process what he’s doing, the sight of his bare chest stops all thoughts in their tracks. Even in the low lighting, you can make out the definition of his muscles, and the smoothness of his skin.

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening slightly as you stare at his exposed skin. You can feel your heartbeat quicken again, the sight of his bare chest sending a wave of heat through your body.

He seems completely oblivious to your reaction, his attention focused on his shoulder as he turns to point out the healed bullet wound left behind by the sniper.

You can see the pink puckered skin, the evidence of the traumatic injury marring his flawless skin. The sight of it only increases the guilt that’s already churning in your gut.

“I’m fine, see?”

Swallowing, you try to compose yourself as you force yourself to speak again.

“Y-yeah, I see it...” you try to keep your tone even. However, your voice still wavers, showing the effect of Eddie’s actions.

He lowers his shirt back down, his attention returning to your face. He studies you for a moment, a hint of concern in his gaze as he notices the way you’re staring at him, the way your voice trembles.

He takes a step closer to her, “Hey, it’s okay, alright? I’m fine. That’s all in the past now..” He mutters gently, his tone soothing.

Nodding, you look back down at the cracked sidewalk.

He reaches out and places his hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and gentle. He speaks softly, his voice laced with concern.

“Hey, look at me.”

Slowly, you peer up at Eddie through your eyelashes. The feeling of his hand on your skin is almost grounding, bringing a small comfort in the torrent of emotions that you’re drowning in.

Tenderly, he pulls you into a safe, secure hug.

As he pulls you against his chest, you can feel the warmth of his skin through the thin shirt. The feeling of his body pressed against yours causes goosebumps to prickle your skin.

He rests his chin on top of your head, his grip around you tightening as he holds you close.

Your bottom lip trembles as Eddie's words sink in. Every gentle stroke of his hand, every soothing word he speaks, chips away at the barriers you’ve built around your heart, leaving you raw and vulnerable in a way you’re not used to. You can't hold back the tears any longer, the dam breaking as a choked sob escapes your lips.

Every soothing word he whispers in your ear, every gentle touch he uses to comfort you, only serves to make you cry harder. Your emotions completely overwhelmed by the love and tenderness.

Your body shakes with sobs, your tears soaking through Eddie's shirt, leaving small damp patches against his skin. You cling to him like a lifeline, your fingers digging into his back as you try to hold back the flood of tears.

Eventually, you let yourself relax into his embrace. The steady beat of his heart under your ear is soothing, the sound chasing away the residual fear from the nightmare.

Eddie says nothing. His fingers gently glide up and down your back in a soothing motion, his touch comforting. He can feel your body relax against his, the tension slowly draining from your muscles as you sink into his embrace.

“C’mon, let's head back…”

You nod against his chest, not ready to break away from his embrace quite yet. When you finally do break away from his embrace, you can’t help the pang of disappointment that shoots through you. You look up at him, your (e/c) eyes locking onto his.

There’s no anger visible in his eyes, no trace of annoyance or irritation, just concern and gentle affection as he gazes down at you.

He reaches out a hand, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

The feel of his fingertips on your skin causes a small gasp to escape your lips. It’s such a simple, innocent gesture, but it’s enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

Eddie’s fingers linger on your face, tracing a slow path down your jawline. His touch is incredibly gentle, but it sets your skin on fire.

He leans down a presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes widen at the feel of his lips against your skin, your body responding involuntarily to his touch. The kiss is brief and gentle, but it’s enough to send a wave of heat coursing through your body, your heart skipping a beat in your chest.

You let out a small, shaky sigh as Eddie intertwines his fingers with yours, his grip warm and firm. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his touch sending another wave of heat through your body.

He leads you back to his house, walking slowly alongside you. He glances down every now and then, his gaze filled with affection.

As you reach the front door of his house, the soft glow from the porch light washes over the two of you. He pauses for a moment, reaching down and brushing a strand of hair out of your face once again.

“You okay now..?” His voice is soft, almost inaudible as he speaks

Nodding, your heart pounds wildly in your chest as his fingers brush against your skin. You meet his gaze, your chest flooding with a confusing mixture of emotions—

Comfort…

Desire…

Longing…

He looks down at you, his gaze scanning your face. It’s as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. He can see the emotions swirling in your eyes, a mix of confusion and desire that’s almost palpable in the air. It’s a familiar feeling, something he’s felt himself on occasion.

He lets out a soft, ragged breath, his heart rate increasing slightly.

You look up at him, noticing the way his breathing has quickened, the way his heart is beating a little faster in his chest.

It’s a subtle change, but it’s enough to send a spark of hope through you.

Taking a small step forward, your body moves closer to his on instinct, the need to be close to him growing too strong to resist.

Eddie swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Your proximity is intoxicating, your mere presence sending his senses into overdrive.

He tries to keep his composure, but it’s a losing battle. His gaze wanders down to your plump lips, his eyes lingering on them for a moment, his thoughts racing with a thousand sinful ideas.

You notice the way he’s looking at you, the heat in his gaze sending a jolt of electricity straight down your spine. You can see the desire in his eyes, the barely restrained need written all over his face.

“Eddie...?” You look up at him through half-lidded eyes, your breath coming out a soft, ragged gasp.

He swallows hard, your soft gasp sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your body pressed up against his, the heat of your skin radiating through his shirt.

“Yeah..?” His voice comes out in a low, rough whisper, the word carrying the weight of all the desire he’s been holding back.

“Kiss me again.”

His breath hitches at the words, the pure need in your voice sending a wave of heat coursing through his body. He looks down at you, his gaze fixed on your lips, your flushed face, your stunning (e/c) eyes.

He reaches out, cusping your face in his hands, his touch gentle and firm at the same time. He leans down, his lips hovering just above yours.

“Please…” That’s all Eddie needs, crashing his lips against yours.

You sigh into the kiss, It’s gentle and tender, soft and sweet. You press yourself closer to him, hands snaking around his neck.

Eddie takes his hand and weaves it into your hair, the other sliding down to rest on the small of your back, holding you firmly against him.

You let out a soft gasp as you two break away, your breath coming out in short, ragged pants. Looking up at him, your vision is dazed and unfocused as you try to catch your breath.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, your skin tingling from where his hands rest. You can feel his heart beating erratically against your chest, the rapid pace mirroring your own.

He runs his hand through your hair, tracing a slow path down your back, “God, you’re beautiful.” He admits, his voice low and hoarse.

The feeling of his hand in your hair, the sound of his voice, low and gravelly in your ear; sending a shiver through your body. You lay your head against his chest, listening to the steadying beat of his heart.

“I guess you’re not so bad yourself.” You shyly smile, your tone teasing.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating throughout his chest. Tightening his grip on you, he pulls you even closer to him.

“And there’s the smartass I know.” Eddie jokes, his tone warm and affectionate.

He unlocks the door, holding it open for you while he gestures for you to go in with his head. A small smile tugs at your lip, your heart fluttering in your chest as you feel his breath against your skin.

Carefully, you step through the door. Your body still tingles from the feel of his touch. You glance back at him, “You’re lucky that I love you.”

He raises an eyebrow at your words, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he trails in behind you.

“Oh! You love me now, do you?” He teases, closing the door behind him and locking it with a soft click.

[cosmicluka]

Pinch

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (Criminal Minds) 

Summary: It’s Saint Patrick’s Day and you’re not wearing any green. At least none that’s visible. Spencer tries to make you regret that, but he wasn’t prepared for your defense. 

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, not proofread at all 

Word Count: 781

Part 2

The day was had just begun when (Y/N) shuffled into the office, gripping her too-expensive coffee in one hand and her bag in the other. A yawn escaped her as she made her way to her desk without paying attention to the two men hovering by the coffee pot in the kitchen that watched her as she went past. Ignoring the look that J.J. sent her way as she plopped in her seat ungracefully, the woman rolled her shoulders before she got to work on the paperwork that sat waiting for her. 

“Happy Saint Patrick’s Day, lil’ momma.” Derek practically sang as he made his way to her desk with Spencer following close behind. Both men were donned in shades of green that made (Y/N) struggle to keep a straight face. “Yeah, yeah. Happy day to the saint who wasn’t a saint. In fact, did you know that Christianity used today as the cheat code during Lent to party. It only changed when- wait, Spencer, what are you doing?” Her words fell short as she saw the taller man’s arm reach up, slowly creeping closer to her arm. 

“You’re not wearing any green. You get pinched. It’s only the biggest trademark of this tradition!” He wiggled his fingers towards her menacingly as she backed away. “First of all, getting absolutely plastered is the biggest trademark. Second of all, I am wearing green! So you can’t pinch me.” She crossed her arms across her chest as if to protect herself from the oncoming assault of his annoyingly perfect hands and pretended not to notice the way his eyes raked over her from head to toe. It was too early to lose her composure due to his antics this morning. 

“I’m not seeing any.” He countered as his hands itched closer. “I’m wearing my green bra, if you must know.” She locked eyes with him, hoping to the adorable blush that usually took over his features at the innuendos she made not so sparingly. “You know me well enough to know by now that I am a man of science. Just like the existence of god or local cryptids, unless there is tangible evidence, I don’t believe it. So, until the facts are proven, I’ll pinch you as much as I’d like.” It was (Y/N)’s turn to sputter out an unintelligible response as her face heated up at the smirk that rested on his lips. 

“Wait, hold up… Did Pretty Boy just ask to see her underwear? As in nearly naked? Anyone else catch that?” It wasn’t until Derek’s shocked outburst that (Y/N) realized that their little fight had drawn an audience. Penelope and J.J had slack jaws as they stared and Emily just smirked at her when they made eye contact. David let out a boyish whistle from his spot in the doorway of Aaron’s office as he watched on. “I didn’t think the kid had it in him.” He commented. 

Heat began to creep up Spencer’s neck as the realization settled in that everyone had heard what he said just moments earlier. (Y/N) cleared her throat and did her best to ignore the way her face burned with embarrassment. “I wouldn’t be opposed to giving you proof once we clock out for the day.” She said with as much confidence as she could muster, which with all the eyes on her at the moment, wasn’t much. Penelope and Derek let out similar noises of what could’ve been shock or excitement, no one was able to tell. 

“I wish I could say that I don’t want to break up… whatever this is, but we have a case.” Aaron called from beside David and let a hint of a smile ghost over his expression as he winked at the red-faced duo. “Though it is time the pining for each other stopped.” One by one, everyone walked to the meeting room, leaving (Y/N) and Spencer awkwardly avoiding each others eyes. 

“I was being serious, a few minutes ago.” She said just above a whisper. “I-I’m sorry?” The red returned to Spencer’s face full force at her words. “Maybe not like that.” A laugh erupted from her lips as she moved past him to make her way to the other room. “But let’s do something tonight. Our own Saint Paddy’s Day tradition.” Spencer caught up to her with ease and let the back of his hand brush over hers before pulling away. “Our own tradition? I’d like that.” The two tried their best to ignore the constant glances from their coworkers during the debriefing as their thoughts drifted to what their time after work would bring.

[xoxovanillq]

🍄‍🟫 and 🕷 with luke castellan maybe? Have a good day! ❤️

“REALLY?”

Pairing- Luke Castellan x reader

Warnings- Kissing, angst, crying, hiding emotions, hurt/comfort.

A/n- Sorry if this feels a bit rushed, I was struggling with trying to end this!

“C’mon, you gotta admit it, you and Y/N would make a good couple.” Chris comments. Chris, Luke, Clarisse, and you were all hanging out on the dock. Luke was layed down beside you, propped up on his elbows, head occasionally resting on your side. The comment caused your heart to flutter, your unspoken feelings for Luke coming to mind.

“No offense, but I’d never date her, we’re friends, and I wouldn’t want anything else.” Luke says with a light scoff, causing a pit to form in your stomach. Your sudden upset must’ve been somewhat present on your face with the way Clarisse immediately raises her eyebrows and then looks between the two of you in a knowing gesture. You quickly stifle a laugh, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t upset.

“You sure? Not like you’re pulling all the ladies.” You tease in an attempt to hide how upset you truly were.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He shoots back, making you sit up right, Chris and Clarisse also now paying more attention. “You know the new girl? Emma? We’ve been talking and I think we might start dating.” The news shakes you. It was one thing if he didn’t reciprocate feelings, because then he’d treat you as he always had, but a girlfriend could change your relationship. 

“Dude, that’s awesome, took you long enough.” Chris finally says, breaking the seconds of silence that had fallen over the group. 

“Yeah, I’m glad you’ve got someone now.” You say with a laugh, hoping he doesn’t hear the sadness in your tone.

“Aww, you happy that you’ll finally get to be alone for once?” He jokes back, push you lightly, causing you to rock a bit. You laugh, not quite knowing how to react.

It was hard watching the two of them walk around, the way she looked up at him, smiling at his laugh, hands on his chest. It burned, watching her get to do everything that you should be doing with him. He had been ignoring you in favor of her, acting as if you didn’t exist.

 Well, that was until a knock came at the door of your cabin. It was just you in there, sitting on your bed, reading your book. When you open the door, you’re met with Luke, his face red, hands shaking lightly.

“Can I come in?” He asks quietly, a tremor in his voice.

“Um, sure.” You reply, tone matching his own. The two of you move to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

“She- she said we couldn’t ever be together, I wasn’t good enough for her.” He says, turning to wrap his arms around you. You could tell he was trying not to cry, which broke you.

“Luke, I- I’m so sorry.” You say quietly, you wanted to be mad, but with how sad he was, you didn’t have it in you.

“I thought someone finally wanted me.” He whispers, head tucked into the crook of your neck as you held him in your arms. You could feel the tears warm your skin as he cried.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here for you.” You soothe, but you desperately wanted to pour out your feelings to him, to tell him you loved him, wanted him. 

“Can I just lay with you?” He asks timidly, picking his head up to look at you with glistening eyes. You nodded softly, moving to lay down in the small bed with him, tugging a throw blanket over you two. 

As you laid there, you began to find some sort of confidence, pulling it from somewhere inside you to finally tell him.

“Luke- I- fuck, I can’t believe I’m actually saying this out loud, but I- I love you.”

“I love you too.” He replies, not understanding the depth of it.

“No- I love you, like, more than a friend.” You breathe out, finally saying what you’d waited so long to say.

“What?” He says, moving away from you in bed and sitting upright. Your heart stops as he moves away from you.

“Listen- just forget I said anything. It just hurt to hear you say that you didn’t think anyone wanted you when I’ve wanted you for years and years.” You explain, also moving to sit up and meet his eyes, searching in them for some sort of reaction.

“No, no, I’m not mad at you, I- I just didn’t think you’d feel the same way.” He says, releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“Really?” You ask in breathy tone, not believing him, even as he moved forward, placing his large hands on your cheeks. He moved forward, and finally, his lips pressed to yours, all the love, sadness, and anger the two of you had been to poured into the way your lips moved against each other. The feelings hidden for years finally revealed.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Vacation love NSFW

Massive thank you to @pranksterzord and for putting Dinozenon on to this absolute bombshell along with next week’s Hara.

Despite my successful date with Hyewon, she hadn’t texted me back consistently. Granted, her ditzy nature probably played a part, but it still made chatting with her a convoluted mess, especially when it came to planning dates.

That’s how I found myself flying alone to Japan. I was on vacation, not working, and Hyem was supposed to be here with me. But three days before the trip, she informed me of a last-minute photo shoot she couldn’t skip, so I was on my own. Despite our mutual attraction and similar quirks, my time with Hyewon was often spontaneous at best. Since we weren’t an official couple, I couldn’t exactly complain.

I checked into the hotel and sat by the window while waiting for my keys. The view outside was serene, but the real action started when someone sat down across from me.

“Um, are you a photographer?” a voice asked, breaking my thoughts.

I turned to see a stunning, petite woman with a curvy frame and an easy smile. Her big, expressive eyes held a glimmer of curiosity.

“Yeah, but I’m officially off duty today,” I replied with a casual shrug.

“Darn.” She pouted, her lips curling into a playful grin. “I was hoping you were my assigned photographer for my shoot.”

“Oh, are you a model?” I asked, my brow raised. She nodded, and as I appraised her, something about her felt familiar.

The woman tilted her head, scrutinizing me as well before her face lit up. “Wait… Hiro?”

It clicked. “Iori?”

Her smile widened, and in an instant, she sprang up to wrap her arms around me in a tiny bear hug. Despite her small stature, her enthusiasm nearly toppled me over.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” she exclaimed, stepping back but keeping her hands on my shoulders.

“Months, actually,” I corrected with a laugh. “Been busy with K-pop gigs lately.”

“K-pop gigs?” she teased, her eyes narrowing. “Let me guess—running after idols with your camera and forgetting all about little old me?”

“More like dodging managers who think I’m there to steal their thunder,” I shot back. “But no, Iori, you’re unforgettable. How could I forget my most dramatic client?”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense. “Dramatic? Excuse you! I’m passionate.”

“Passionately dramatic, sure,” I teased, earning a playful shove.

“Well, are they at least paying you well for all that dodging and drama?” she asked, her tone shifting to genuine curiosity.

“They are,” I reassured her, smirking. “But if they weren’t, what would you do? Scold them on my behalf?”

“Absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and pretending to glare. “If they weren’t treating my favorite photographer well and keeping him from seeing me, I’d have to intervene.”

I leaned back in my seat, chuckling. “No need, Iori. My wallet’s happy, and now that I’m here, you can’t say I’m neglecting you.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you off the hook this time,” she said, her pout returning. Then, her eyes lit up again. “Actually, speaking of work… since you’re here and my photographer flaked, how about you step in for the shoot?”

I raised an eyebrow. “And what’s in it for me? I hope you’re not expecting free labor just because you’re my favorite ‘passionate’ model.”

Iori leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “Oh, you’ll be paid, Mr. Fancy Photographer. I wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of you. But I might insist on dinner after, on my tab, of course.”

I feigned thoughtfulness, tapping my chin. “Hmm. Room service or a fancy sushi spot?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d let you order room service,” she teased. “You’re getting the real deal. Only the best for my hero!”

“Hero?” I repeated with a smirk. “I’m just doing my job.”

“Riku, if you haven’t figured it out by now,” she said, standing and leaning down to look me in the eye, “I only hire heroes, and the occasional villain. Speaking of Say Hi to Hiro for me”

I rolled my eyes listening to her before responding, “I’ll tell him,” After getting my room keys, we headed to her shoot in a black car she had waiting outside. As soon as the doors closed, Iori turned her body toward me, her knee brushing against mine.

“So, how long are you staying in Japan?” she asked, her tone dripping with casual curiosity but her smile giving away her playful intentions.

“Just a week,” I replied, leaning back. “Figured I’d decompress, maybe take some photos for fun if inspiration hits.”

“Well, inspiration just walked into your life,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at me exaggeratedly. “You could shoot me all week. I promise I’m a very cooperative model.”

“Iori, I’m pretty sure you’re the opposite of cooperative,” I said, giving her a sidelong glance.

She gasped in mock offense. “Me? I’m an angel. Aren’t I an angel?”

“Sure. An angel who gets her photographer to break his vacation plans.”

She nudged my arm. “You’re on vacation and working for me—it’s the best of both worlds! Plus, I’m way more fun than lounging around by yourself. Admit it, Riku”

Iori leaned in closer, resting her chin on her hand. Her other hand casually grazed my thigh. “Besides, you know you missed me.”

“You know, I think I missed the peace of not being teased every five seconds,” I said, shooting her a dry look.

“You love it,” she shot back confidently, laughing. “Remember the last shoot? You couldn’t stop smiling whenever I messed with you.”

I opened my mouth to argue but realized she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“And you love that too,” she said, grinning like she’d won.

When we arrived at the location—a sleek studio tucked into a corner of downtown Tokyo—she stopped me just before getting out of the car. Her hand caught my wrist, and she looked up at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Promise you’ll make me look good today?” she asked, her voice softer, almost sweet.

I smirked, leaning just slightly into her space. “I can’t promise to do the impossible, Iori.”

Her jaw dropped, and she smacked my arm lightly. “Rude! You better make me look amazing, or I’m telling everyone you’re terrible to work with!”

I chuckled as we climbed out of the car. “Relax. You’re not exactly difficult to photograph. Even if you’re difficult in every other way.”

She rolled her eyes, slipping her arm through mine as we headed into the building. “I’m gonna make you eat those words by the end of the day, Riku.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said, matching her grin.

The shoot location turned out to be a secluded beach, with crystal-clear waters and smooth, white sand stretching for miles. A small tent had been set up near the shore as a makeshift dressing area, and Iori wasted no time dragging me over to it, chattering excitedly about the theme of the shoot.

“Alright, Riku, you’re about to see me in my element,” she declared, flipping her hair dramatically as she stepped into the tent.

I leaned against a nearby rock, fiddling with the camera I’d borrowed from the studio while she rummaged through racks of swimsuits and accessories. “Your element? Is that just code for finding new ways to annoy me?”

“No, my element means being absolutely stunning,” she shot back from inside the tent. “But I can multitask.”

I chuckled, adjusting the camera settings as I heard the rustle of fabric. “You’ve got about twenty minutes of good sunlight before we lose that golden hour glow, so try not to waste it coming up with comebacks.”

The tent flap opened slightly, and Iori peeked out, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Oh, Riku, you’ll want to take your time with this.”

Before I could respond, she stepped out in a two-piece swimsuit—a simple but elegant black number that hugged her figure in all the right ways. She struck a playful pose, placing one hand on her hip and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Well? Do I look camera-ready?” she asked, her tone light but her eyes searching mine.

I raised an eyebrow, deliberately dragging my gaze from her head to her toes. “You look like you’re about to cause some lifeguard emergencies.”

She laughed, walking closer and poking me in the chest. “Flatterer. You’re supposed to act professional, remember?”

“Who says I’m not being professional?” I shot back, grinning. “I’m just objectively stating the facts.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Mm-hmm. Objectively, huh? Should I be worried you’re getting distracted?”

“Not distracted,” I replied, lifting the camera and pretending to take a shot of her face. “Just… appreciating the subject matter.”

Iori took a step closer, tilting her head as she reached out to adjust my shirt collar, her fingers lingering just a little too long. “You know, Riku most photographers would be tripping over themselves to compliment me more. You’re surprisingly hard to fluster.”

I lowered the camera, meeting her gaze. “If I flattered you anymore, your ego might not fit in the frame.”

She gasped in mock outrage, then leaned in, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Careful, or I might start thinking you’re immune to my charms.”

“Who says I’m immune?” I replied, smirking.

That seemed to catch her off guard, just for a moment, before she laughed. “Touché. Alright, Mr. Smooth, let’s see if your photography skills are as sharp as your tongue.”

She spun around, walking toward the shoreline with an exaggerated sway in her hips. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I followed her, camera in hand.

By the time we reached the water’s edge, she’d dropped into her first pose—one hand in her hair, the other brushing lightly against her thigh as she gazed out at the horizon.

“Ready when you are, Riku,” she called, her voice teasing. “Try to keep up.”

I lifted the camera, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, Iori. I’ve got you in my sights.”

“And here I thought I was the one doing the shooting,” she quipped, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.

As I snapped the first few photos, the banter continued, her laughter blending with the sound of the waves.

Here’s the continuation with a detailed scene of the rest of the shoot, Iori’s heightened flirting, and her big reveal:

The shoot continued along the shoreline, with Iori shifting effortlessly between poses. Her movements were fluid, almost instinctive, as if the camera and the beach were extensions of her. But her banter never ceased, each comment laced with a flirtatious edge that kept me on my toes.

“Riku, make sure you get my good side,” she teased, turning slightly and giving me a playful wink.

“You don’t have a bad side,” I replied, my tone more automatic than intentional. I was too focused on framing the shot to think much about the words.

She froze mid-pose, her eyes widening for a split second before a sly smile spread across her lips. “Ooh, are you trying to sweet-talk me now?”

“Just stating facts,” I said, crouching slightly to catch the golden light hitting her profile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s already there,” she quipped, tossing her hair. “But you should know, Riku, a girl like me has expectations when a guy talks to her like that.”

I paused, lowering the camera to give her a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She just grinned and dropped into another pose, arching her back slightly as the waves lapped at her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” she said with a sing-song lilt.

Her teasing continued as I directed her to move up the beach for more shots. Every step seemed intentional, every glance charged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Riku, you’re awfully quiet,” she said as she adjusted the straps of her swimsuit. “Am I distracting you?”

I let out a small laugh, focusing the lens again. “I’m trying to do my job, Iori. Some of us actually take this seriously.”

“Oh, I’m taking it seriously,” she said, biting her lower lip as she leaned forward slightly, her hair falling into her face in a way that would make any photographer salivate. “I’m just wondering how serious you’re taking me.”

I sighed, shaking my head as I took another shot. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re acting… different.”

“Different good or different bad?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she stood and sauntered over to me.

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, lowering the camera. “You’re just… really on me today. I don’t remember you being this—”

“Charming? Fun? Irresistible?” she interrupted, her grin turning wicked.

“—relentless,” I finished, trying to maintain my composure as she stepped into my personal space.

“Aw, poor Riku,” she cooed, reaching out to tug at the strap of my camera. “Am I making your job harder?”

“You’re making something harder,” I muttered under my breath, immediately regretting it when her eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, what was that?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, taking a step back. “Let’s finish this shoot before we lose the light.”

By the time we wrapped up, the sun was dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Iori stood by the shoreline, letting the waves lap at her feet as I packed up the equipment.

“Thanks for stepping in today, Riku,” she said, her voice softer now but still playful. “I mean it.”

“Anytime,” I replied, slinging the camera bag over my shoulder. “You’re not a bad model to work with, even if you’re a bit of a handful.”

She laughed, turning to face me fully. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But, uh…” She hesitated for the first time all day, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her cover-up.

“But what?” I prompted, raising an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath, then smiled up at me, a mix of confidence and nervous energy in her expression. “I wasn’t just teasing you all day for fun, you know. I… actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask me what?”

“Go out with me,” she said simply, her eyes locking onto mine. “On a real date. Not as a model and photographer, but as…” She trailed off, then shrugged with a grin. “As two people who obviously have chemistry.”

I blinked, completely caught off guard. “Wait, is that what all of this was about?”

“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “What, did you think I just flirt with every guy I work with?”

“Honestly, with you, it’s hard to tell,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck.

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Fair enough. But I’m serious, Riku. What do you say? Dinner, drinks, maybe a walk on the beach—this time without a camera between us?”

I hesitated, my mind racing. The day had been such a whirlwind that I hadn’t even considered the possibility that her teasing might mean something more. But looking at her now, with the setting sun casting a glow around her, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt.

“Alright,” I said finally, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You win. Let’s see if you’re as charming off-camera as you are on.”

She beamed, her face lighting up in a way that made me momentarily forget how exhausted I was. “Oh, Riku, you’re in for a treat. I’m even better when it’s just the two of us.”

We ended up at a cozy seaside restaurant, the kind of place with dim lighting, ocean breezes, and candles flickering on every table. Iori had insisted on picking the spot, declaring that she wanted “something romantic but not too romantic.” Judging by the way she looped her arm through mine as we walked in, I had a feeling she leaned more toward romantic than not.

As soon as we were seated, Iori wasted no time making herself comfortable—both physically and emotionally. She leaned across the table, resting her chin in her hand, her soft smile never wavering as her other hand played idly with the hem of my sleeve.

“So, Riku,” she began, her voice dripping with warmth, “are you going to admit this is the best date you’ve been on in years, or do I have to keep working for it?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s not a competition, Iori.”

“Everything is a competition if you want it badly enough,” she shot back, her grin playful yet confident.

Before I could respond, she reached over and lightly traced her fingers along the back of my hand, sending a shiver up my spine. “Besides, I’m winning, aren’t I?”

“You’re definitely doing… well,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to navigate her relentless charm.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that seemed to light up the entire room. “Riku, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. I almost forgot how fun it is to mess with you.”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.

“Not true,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I’ve grown a lot. I’m more poised, more sophisticated…” She trailed off, then smirked. “But I still love teasing you. Some things never change.”

Her words struck a chord, and before I knew it, we were reminiscing.

“I still remember the first time we worked together,” she said, her expression softening as she leaned closer.

I smiled at the memory, the edges of it still vivid in my mind. “Yeah, I was so nervous. You were my first gravure model, and I was completely out of my depth.”

“You didn’t show it,” she said, her voice gentle. “You were so focused, so professional. I remember thinking, ‘This guy’s different.’ Most photographers I worked with back then were either too shy or way too pushy. But you? You made me feel like a person, not just a… well, you know.”

“A model?” I teased.

“A pretty face,” she corrected, her gaze locking onto mine. “You treated me with respect, Riku. That’s rare in this industry.”

Her sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. Iori, ever perceptive, took advantage of my silence to scoot her chair closer, her hand finding its way to my arm.

“You know,” she said softly, her tone shifting, “I always wondered why we didn’t stay in touch more after that shoot. You left such an impression on me.”

I glanced at her, surprised. “I thought you’d forgotten about me. You were so busy back then, and I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” she repeated, laughing lightly. “Riku, you’ve never been a bother. If anything, I’ve been waiting for years to run into you again.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and I felt something shift between us. Iori’s usual teasing demeanor had softened into something more vulnerable, more genuine.

As the evening wore on, Iori’s affection only grew. She reached out to brush imaginary lint off my jacket, rested her hand on mine whenever she laughed, and even leaned her head against my shoulder when the waiter brought our dessert.

“You’re really going all out tonight, aren’t you?” I asked, my voice light but my heart racing.

She tilted her head to look up at me, her eyes sparkling. “I just want you to know how much I’ve missed you.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself smiling despite the knot forming in my chest. “I missed you too, Iori. I didn’t realize how much until now.”

She grinned, her charm slipping back into play. “Good. Because I don’t plan on letting you disappear again.”

After we finished our meal, we walked along the beach under the moonlight, the sound of the waves filling the comfortable silence between us. Iori slipped her arm around mine, resting her head on my shoulder as we strolled.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the surf, “tonight feels like a dream.”

I glanced down at her, her soft features glowing in the moonlight. “Why’s that?”

“Because I finally got to spend time with you,” she said simply. “And I’m not just saying that. You’re… different, Riku. In a good way. You’ve always been different.”

Her honesty left me speechless, and for the first time that night, I felt the weight of her feelings sink in. Iori wasn’t just flirting for fun or teasing me out of habit—she genuinely cared.

As we reached the end of the beach, she stopped and turned to face me, her hands resting lightly on my chest. “So, what do you think?” she asked, her tone playful but her eyes searching mine. “Was this date worth the wait?”

I smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Yeah, it was. You were worth the wait, Iori.”

Her cheeks flushed, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against my cheek before pulling back with a shy smile.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I plan on making up for lost time.”

And just like that, the teasing, the charm, and the nostalgia all fell into place, leaving me with one undeniable truth: I was falling for my old friend, and there was no turning back.

We head back to the hotel, and we head up to my room. Iori and I sit next to each other on the bed. Silence eats through the room as we try to find the words, but words weren’t found when Iori and my eyes lock she’s straddling me moments later. Her lips pointed like daggers as she kisses me all over. Her voice husky with lust,

“I need you Riku,” she whimpers. Her big puppy dog eyes stare at me innocently despite her demands being not so innocent. After she’s had her fill she pushes me off the bed her eyes are frantic. “Get your cock out,” she growls possessively as she lifts up her dress revealing an adorable set of light blue bra and panties. I lean in and kiss her.

She bites my lips in between kisses.

“Fucking get that cock out right now,” Iori growls again. I follow her instructions and as soon I pull out my cock she tears open her panties feverishly before lining me up with her entrance, “fuck you’re so hard for me,” Iori groans before locking her legs behind her hips and forcing me inside of her.

“Oh fuck you’re just as big as I had hoped,” she says as I bottom out into her tight cavern. I moan as lean around her. she smiles at me before saying, "Fuck take me." I slowly begin to thrust inside of her as he walls viciously clench me. I posseviely claw at her breasts as I continue to rut into her. she moans delirous before saying "God yes. I have been waiting for this for so long,"

I wrap my arms under her waist as I thrust deeply into her. Her big breasts jiggle and sway pleasantly as my thrust send undulations of pleasure throughout her body. I watch as her eyes roll back and she smiles at me grateful before pulling me in close.

"I missed you so much Riku" Iori moaned in my ear. I smiled before replying "I missed you too." she groans as my Cock hits deep into her womb,

"oh fuck I'm cumming she says, as she clenches my manhood in a futile attempt to milk it for all it's worth. I decided to keep going a she comes down despite her please to stop for a bit

"you wanted me to take you," I growl possesively and she moans overstimulated and overpleasured.

"Fuck then take me. Make me your woman," she moans repeatedly like a mantra. So I take her.

Iori arches her back so I can thrust deeper inside of her, and as her pussy clenches me she moans and says, "Fuck"

I groan as we lock eyes before saying, "You wanna have my kids, because I'm gonna breed you," Iori smiles as I thrust harder, and her pussy clenches me harder before saying,

"Fuck please. Make me a mommy," Her words send me over the edge as I explode inside of her. her walls clench my cock as I keep cumming inside of her. she groans satisfied as we both fall into my bed exhausted.

when I wake up the next day Iori is sucking my cock. she smiles and says, "part of you was already awake and I don't think you got a good enough taste of my body." I groan and she smiles before angling herself up. Her massive tits hover over my cock and Iori smiles. She lowered herself and wraps her breasts around my dick. Her soft and warm breasts overwhelmed me.

“Ah fuck. Oh god!” I moan out and Iori smiles.

"You like my tits?" she asks

"Fuck I love them… no scratch that I love all of you." I say as she continues fucking me with her boobs.

"Good then cum all over them." she says as I cum all over her tits. as my seed flies all over her face and chest she smiles and says, "you're my boyfriend now."

[holylulusworld]

Indifferent (2)

Summary: Your father wanted a bond between you and the Barnes Empire. No matter what.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Characters: Thor Odinson, Winnifred Barnes

Warnings: arranged marriage, angst, mentions of impotence, arguments, mafia au, a hint of violence, strong reader, jealousy

Catch up here: Indifferent (1)

Indifferent Masterlist

Bucky is taken aback at your behavior. You’re a brat, but you never openly talked back or yelled at him. It’s simply not your style.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, you’re dull too?” You smirk darkly when he tightens his hold on your arm. “I said make me.” Bucky blinks. His features darken and he’s close to fulfilling his promise when you use the momentum to knee his groin. “FUCK!”

He whines and drops his hand from your arm to cup his crotch with both hands. Tears well up in his eyes, and he whines like a wounded animal.

“Well, now you definitely are impotent,” you flash him a smile. “Aw, you should put ice on that, darling.” You pat his cheek, earning a growl from your husband. “Don’t wait up for me, baby. I’m going to have a little fun outside these dusty walls.”

Pain radiates through his crotch. Bucky feels like he’s going to throw up, and his insides churn. Not only from the pain but the fact that he’s unable to stop you from leaving.

“I dare you to leave,” he yells after you. “Y/N, come back or I swear I’ll hunt you down.”

You turn around to blow a kiss at Bucky. “I love you too, baby. Have a great day. You really should put ice on that. We don’t want your tiny wiener to fall off. I’d be a shame.”

“I will kill her,” he grits his teeth and breathes through the pain. “If she doesn’t come back within the next minutes, I’ll spank her ass until it’s raw, and she can’t sit on her bratty ass any longer.”

“OH my God,” you whimper. “This feels so good. Please don’t stop…don’t you ever stop!”

“He won’t stop until you relax, Y/N. He’s the best in town. Just look at his large hands,” Winnifred chuckles. She dips her head to look up at the tall masseur. “Thor, my dear. I need you to knead all the knots and kinks my stubborn son caused out of my lovely daughter-in-law.”

“Your wish is my command,” the tall blonde flashes Winnifred a stunning smile. His blue eyes sparkle, and he drops his eyes to your shoulders. “She’s so tense, but I’ll make her relax. Trust me. I’m a professional.”

“I feel like I’m floating,” you sigh dreamily, completely lost in the feel of Thor’s hands on your body. “I’m boneless but happy.”

“That’s the goal,” your mother-in-law grins. “I’ll leave you to Thor now, Y/N. You’re in capable hands.”

“Yeah…” you murmur sleepily. “Perfect hands…perfect…so perfect.” You close your eyes and forget about your marriage and that you left your husband with more than a bruised ego. “I’ll deal with the bastard later.”

“Relax,” Thor leans over your body to purr in your ear. “No thinking, sweetness. Just feel. I need you to shut your mind off and let me rule your body.”

“It’s yours,” you slur. “All yours…”

You’re walking on air when you return to the place you call your prison, not a home.

After Thor was done with you, it felt like all the sorrows and Bucky’s ignorance just vanished. You decided to ignore him for as long as needed. The moment your father retires, you’ll take over his empire and file for divorce.

What’s a few more years with an indifferent husband – right?

“YOU!” Bucky is back on his feet. Or rather, his balls don’t hurt anymore. While you spent the day with your mother-in-law, he tried to find a way to pay you back. A shame he didn’t come up with a good plan yet.

“A good night to you too, husband,” you don’t let Bucky ruin your mood. Your body feels like you are reborn after Thor worked his magic. “I had the best day ever.”

“You are…” He sizes you up and frowns. “You’re glowing…and…you’re so relaxed.” Bucky sucks in a breath. “What did you do?”

“You mean who did I do?” you can't fight the dopey grin creeping on your face. It’s all Thor’s fault. You feel like you’re high on the good stuff. Or maybe you just enjoyed his hands all over your body. “Damn, that man has magic in his hands.”

“Hands? Man?” The wheels in Bucky’s head begin to spin. He balls his hands into fists, and growls. “If you fucked that gardener, I’ll kill you!”

“Gardener?” You blink a few times. “Nah, masseur, baby.” You giggle and turn to make your way toward your wing of the mansion. “I’m telling you; he’s got more power in his thumb than any guy in their hands.”

“Thumb?” Bucky follows you, hot on your heels. He limps a little while walking next to you. “Who used his hands on you? Where have you been? What did you think going out there fucking that asshole!”

“Winnifred was so right,” you sigh dreamily at the memory of the tall blonde hunk. “His hands are the best remedy. I think I’ll visit him twice a week from now on.”

“My mother?” He stops in his tracks to watch you walk toward the west wing. There’s a sway in your hips, and he can’t help but wonder if another man gave you what he denied his wife for so long. “She got you a callboy?”

“MASSEUR!” You twirl around to glare at Bucky. “Do not call Thor a prostitute! He’s a professional and would never cross a line. This man gave me something you never could!”

“What’s that?”

“Caresses!” You sniff. “It wasn’t romantic or sexual, but today I felt like myself for the first time since I married you. What a shame that a stranger made me feel like that, not you.”

He wrinkles his forehead. “Caresses?” Bucky thinks about the possibility of losing you to a masseur. His ego couldn’t take it, nor his reputation.

The worst is a green-eyed monster clawing its way to the front of his mind. Another man put his hands on you, and he can’t stand the thought.

“MOTHER!” Bucky storms inside his parents’ house. He’s fuming, and close to losing his cool. Maybe he already lost it on his way toward their house, he's not sure about it. “How dare you bring my wife to that callboy!”

Winnifred lifts her eyes from the book she tried to read. She smirks knowingly when her son starts to throw a tantrum like an angry toddler losing their favorite toy.

“Thor is a masseur, Jamie,” she coos and goes back to reading her book. “If you do not help your wife relax and make her feel good, I must help that sweet woman. That poor thing is touch-starved thanks to you.”

“You hired someone to have sex with my wife, mother! What in the world!”

“Jamie," she closes her book and sighs. “Not every touch is about sex. I raised you better. You should know that a human being needs more than air to breathe and food to fill your belly. We are not meant to remain untouched, unloved, unhugged…”

She slowly rises from her seat to walk toward her son. Winnifred pats his cheek, and sighs once again.

“I don’t understand your behavior, Jamie. She’s beautiful, smart and caring. What did Y/N ever do to you to deserve your hatred? She won’t admit it, but this situation is killing her. Don’t you see that she’s like a flower withering away in the shadow of your hatred?”

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[lovexjoe]

Unspoken

Part 1 

Synopsis: Jack and Y/N have been best friend for years. She recently ended her 2 year relationship, due to moving to Atlanta for a better job opportunity. What’s going to happen when she stays with Jack for a week ?

Warning: fluffy, angst?, language and smut🧎🏽‍♀️

Y/N POV 

Great!!! I finally found an apartment for myself, but I have to stay at a hotel for a week due to maintenance. I sighed as I begin to search the internet for a hotel suitable to my needs. Currently I’m at Jack’s house, cause he offered to let me stay the weekend as I sorted myself out. Moving to a new state is draining. I left a lot of my things back home as my mom said it’s good to just start fresh. So I packed what I needed and hopped on the plane. I left so much behind, even my 2 year relationship. Surprisingly, I’m okay and even happier that it ended. There wasn’t a spark between us. He treated me well, but the relationship over all was boring. I guess I kept it going for so long, because it was better than being alone. 

“Alright what’s got you so stress? You been glue to the computer since you woke up” Jack says as he sits down next to me on the couch. 

“The apartment won't be ready for another week and I need to find a hotel beca-” 

“Hell no! Come on, you know you can stay here till it’s ready. I’m not taking no for an answer either. Now can you stop stressing before you explode. That vein on your forehead is serious” He starts his usual teasing. I laughed and playfully shoved him. 

Arguing with him was useless. It was his way or no way. I finally close my laptop and enjoyed whatever tv show he was currently hooked on. He stretched out his left arm and placed it on the back on the couch. I crawl into my usual spot: snuggled up with a blanket. 

“I missed you. I know you’re stressed but I’m happy to finally spend some time with you this week.” Jack says honestly. You were taken aback but also happy as well to be here with him.

“Me too”

Jack’s POV

She takes her usual spot on the opposite end of the couch, I so badly want to pull her close to me. As selfish as it sounds I hope her apartment takes an extra week so she could stay longer. And those god damn PJs she wears is gonna end me. She could wear a turtleneck and I’d probably still have the same reaction. 

I had met her through Druski as she was working with him for a while on video concepts and managing his social media. As soon as they linked up, she got his account to gain a million followers within a month. Thats why Jack put his full trust in her when it came to his social media. He’ll give her a heart attack here or there when he posts some random video of him trying to dance. Keyword is try because he looks like he’s glitching half the time. 

~~~~~

They indulge in a few episodes together before both of their stomachs start grumbling. Jack grabs his phone to open up UberEats. She gives him an insane look. 

“Jack you already ordered UberEats for breakfast, do you ever actually cook?” She arched her brows at him and he just looks at her cause lowkey she ate him up with that one. 

Oh yea forgot to mention, she got attitude that could last a lifetime and he fucking loved it. 

“You know I can’t cook!” He tried to justify but she’s already up and headed to the kitchen scanning the pantry and fridge for a simple meal. 

“Alright since you insist on me staying here for a week, you have to learn how to cook to at least survive.” She points the wooden spoon at him which causes him to laugh and throw his hands up in the air. 

“Goddamn Gordon Ramsey when did you even grab that!?” 

“Mmm don’t worry about that, give me a cutting board and knife stat! We making the world’s simplest meal. Pasta!” 

Pasta? Yeah no, he has spent his entire life over and under cooking pasta noodles. He watches her work the kitchen like a natural, pulling out ingredients he didn’t know what was what but he  tried his hardest to pay attention. She started with washing, then cutting then cooking. When it started to heat up in the kitchen, she tossed her hair up in a messy bun and in that moment Jack swore his heart could burst outta his chest.  He was trying his best not to stare inappropriately, but she was down right beautiful. 

Her ex was an idiot for letting her out of his sight, but he had to thank him because he’s not letting this chance pass up. There’s been multiple times throughout their friendship that her previous relationship and his hookups were not too fond of what they had. Which caused a few months of silence here and there. It use to kill him that he couldn’t reach out to her or hear her voice. She’s the reason why most of his hookups never lasted. Even during sex he wasn’t fully present, always distracted. 

As she finished up the tomato basil pasta, she turns around bumping into Jack not realizing he was so close to her. She felt so small around him, he looks down at her and smiles. 

“Hi” he says as he looks into her green hazel eyes that complimented her tan skin. 

“Hi…” she wish he would just kiss her, but she probably wasn’t what he even wanted. This man has the whole world at his feet. Why would he want her? They both stood there for a few extra seconds, just admiring their favorite features of the other. 

He swore she bite her lip 

She swore he was staring at her lips 

Kiss me already they both thought.

The sizzle of the pot reminded her she needed salt, so she purposely pushes up against him to grab the salt 

“Excuuuuseee me” she says innocently causing him to blush. 

“Smell yummy, thank you seriously” He says as she hands him his plate. As she makes her plate last, but Jack grabs it and heads over to the dinner table. Pulling out her seat for her, she happily sits as he grabs them some wine. 

“Oh my god, this is amazing!” He hums enjoying all the flavors that melt in his mouth. She’s really getting brownie points right now cause once his tummy is full he is a happy camper. 

This could be them, she thought. If only he wanted her. 

This could be them, he thought. If only she wanted him. 

After a few glasses of wine and enjoying the food together. Jack knew she was gonna crave something sweet because anytime he took her out dessert was always a must. He took her plate and nods his head for her to follow him.  

He grabs a bowl, vanilla ice cream, sprinkles, chocolate drizzle and whipped cream. Instantly her smile appears on her face, he still remembers her favorite toppings. How could he not though? He remembers everything about her. They both assisted each other is building the sundae. 

“Time for the finale!! Whipped cream!” She shakes it up and hands it to him to do the honors. Jack holds down the nozzle but it was stuck. He shook it one more time confused cause he literally just bought it when he told Y/N to stay at his crib. Yes he fully stocked the house and made sure it was squeaky clean before she got there. He even went to target and Ulta and stocked up on products she’d like or needed for the guest room. 

“This thing is stupid!” He holds the nozzle facing Y/N and it shoots out straight onto her neck and face. They both looked shock but Jack was trying so hard to hold his laughter in. 

“Oh you little shit!” They both busted into laughter. 

The wine definitely taking effect as laughter filled the air. Their stomach hurting so much from being full and the happiness that overcame them. Grabbing a towel, Jack pulls her close and the two still having the giggles. She wasn’t in control anymore because she couldn’t believe the words that was escaping her mouth. 

“Lick it off of me….” Jack freezes. Is he dreaming? Is she fucking with him? Wouldn’t be a nice joke but the way she was looking at him she’s lucky she doesn’t get bent over this island right now. 

“Are you sure?” He looks into her eyes wanting to confirm because if he starts god only knows if he’ll have the strength to stop. 

“Yea….make me your dessert.” She wipes some whipped cream off her neck slipping her finger in his mouth to suck it off. The need growing between them as she felt his tongue lick her finger dry. His lips meeting her neck, licking up all whipped cream on her as her moans escape her mouth. 

Fuck. He thought this was it, she’s gonna get eaten up tonight, he had to taste her. He was hungry for it. His hands caressing her face, as their lips finally meet. They both dreamt of this moment endless amount of times, but nothing….nothing could compare how this really felt. The little sounds she makes got him bricked up and aching. It’s almost as if she knew what effect she had on him cause her hand begins to palm him through his joggers. He groans into her mouth, causing a certain wetness to form in her panties. She never knew Jack had an aggressive side to him, she always teased him of being vanilla. 

He picks her up and sets her onto the island. Slipping her shorts off and spreading her legs. No panties? Fuck, her pussy glistened from her wetness under the lights. She closed her legs, starting to feel shy. 

“Nuh uh, open those legs for me. Lemme see that pretty pussy.” Oh god she loves this. He gets on his knees, kissing her lips, taking in her scent causing her hips to buck. 

“Jaack please don’t tease,” she feels his breath on her as he laughs, knowing exactly what he was doing. He takes her clit into his mouth, slowly sucking and swirling his tongue. He was so fucking handsome and with your pussy in his mouth made him even hotter. Working his tongue up and down your folds, you lift you hips slightly to ride his face. 

Fuck fuck fuck 

Jack couldn’t believe how fucking beautiful you looked under the island lights. Everything about you just amazed him. He works his movement with yours as he sees your body tensing up. 

“Fuck Jack, I’m- fuck I’m gonna cum!” In that moment he slips two of his fingers in, curving them upwards pumping them in and out. The only thing that could be heard was your cries and the wetness of your pussy. His fingers were big and long you could only imagine what he’ll stretch you out to. He pulls you close to him, placing little kisses along your cheek and neck. He lets you ride out your orgasm from his fingers. He only just begun with you, but he notices the slight sheen of sweat that covered your body. 

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you.” He places a soft kiss on her lips. 

“Jack I need you, please.” She reaches into his jogger to pull him out. His tip already leaking with precum. Teasing him, she rubs his length between her wet folds causing him to groan. The lust that filled both of their eyes as they watch his tip play with her clit. Jack slipped in not being able to handle it anymore. 

Y/N lets out a soft cry not realizing how big he really was. Her back was cold against the marbled island, but the way Jack started pounding into her she couldn’t possibly give a fuck about anything 

“Jaackkk” she cries out throwing her head back

“I know it’s big baby, you can take it. Be good for me and take it.” His thumb starts to rub circles on her clit as he continues his ruthless thrusting. She was drunk off of his fucking. Not a single thought was running through her head besides the fact that he felt so fucking good and was deep.

“Look at you. Such a good fucking girl taking me. So beautiful baby.” He whispers his praises into her ear, till he feels her clenching him tightly. His free hand grabs the back of her hair firmly to make sure he was looking at him as she cums. 

“Mmm fuck, where do you want it?” She better answer quick cause those hazel eyes looked fucked out and he could barely hold on. 

“Inside me! P-please please” 

Jesus Christ 

He nods as he increases his speed, hitting a new spot for her causing her to come undone. She couldn’t even stop the babbling. 

“I love you I-I love you Jack.” He kisses her passionately, emptying himself deep inside her. 

“I love you too.” He says out of breath. 

He picks her up carrying them to his bedroom. She was completely out of it, her eyes closed and sleep slowly taking over her. He couldn’t imagine this moment any better. It happened so naturally. He tucks both of them in pulling her closely. She was his. He was hers. Thank god for that fucking apartment delay. 

~~~~~~~~

Y/N woke up feeling satisfied and definitely sore. Some of their friends were suppose to be flying in today to vibe for the next two days. She looks at the sleepy man next to her and smiles. They really had some nasty sex last night when just prior to that they were just best friends. She places a soft kiss on his forehead and decided to make them breakfast. She picked out some boxers and one of his t-shirts and got to work. As she was making them pancakes and eggs, the door bell rang and it was probably Druski since he had the earliest flight. She opens the door to see a girl, who looked like a super model holding a duffel bag. 

“Y/N, right?” 

“Uhh yeah…I’m sorry who are you?”

“I’m Jack’s girlfriend….”

Part 2? 😌

TAGLIST 

@dyttomori @harlowcomehome @itsyagirljaz

[upat4amwiththemoon]

can I request a Daisy Johnson x reader fanfic where reader works at shield and is the (secret) daughter of Coulson and May and only a small circle, not including Daisy knows who readers parents are. Reader and Daisy met at shield hq and Daisy ends up ranting to Coulson about the girl she met and after a while Coulson realises Daisy is talking about his daughter?

Accidental oversharing

Summary: The secret daughter of Phil Coulson and Melinda May.

Pairing: Daisy Johnson x female!reader, Philinda x daughter!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 772

a/n: day 1000 of wishing Marvel gave us more Daisy Johnson content

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

“Oh shit!” A stack of papers falls to the ground as Daisy’s body bumps right into someone in the middle of the SHIELD headquarters’ hallway.

“I’m so sorry.” The other woman mumbles as she kneels down, starting to gather all the papers from the ground. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Daisy picks up the few papers that flew further away.

The woman gives Daisy a small smile as she stands up, now holding all of her papers. She takes a double take, her brows scrunching together. “Aren’t you the Quake?”

“Oh god,” she cringes at the mention of her superhero name, “please call me Daisy. I hate that name.”

“Okay, Daisy. I’m Y/N.” Freeing one of her hands, Y/N reaches it out to shake Daisy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It’s not that Daisy doesn’t pay attention to the people working at SHIELD, because she does, she makes sure to be at least polite to everyone (who deserves it), but right now she can’t help but stare at the woman in front of her, taking her in fully. “Uhuh.” She nods, shaking Y/N’s hand softly.

“Okay.” She lets out a small laugh before pulling her hand away from Daisy’s weak grip. “I really have to get going, but I’ll see you around, maybe.” Y/N waits for a couple of seconds before walking away.

“Yeah…” Daisy whispers, her eyes following her until she finally registers reality. “Wait what?” Her eyes widen as a visceral need to get the woman’s number comes over her. She desperately looks around to find the woman, but the sea of people has already hidden her from sight. “Shit.”

Daisy has no choice but to continue her way to Coulson, who called for her at least 30 minutes ago.

“Hey, Daisy?” Coulson’s hand waves in front of her face. “Are you listening to me?”

Daisy sighs, coming out of her dreamland as she focused her gaze on Coulson. “No, sorry AC.”

“What’s going on?”

Leaning her head over the back of the couch, Daisy smiles softly as she reminisces what happened not too long ago. “I bumped into someone, a woman, today. I don’t think I’ve seen her around before, because I’d definitely remember her if I had.”

“Someone finally caught your eye?” Coulson has a small grin on his face as he listens to her talk.

“What do you mean finally?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes before going to explaining. “She was so beautiful and nice, so cute, and I was acting so weird around her.” Daisy lays her hand over her face, a small grimace on it. “But I couldn’t help it! I got completely mesmerized by her.”

Though Coulson wanted to tease her at first, his grin turns into a genuine smile. Daisy hasn’t really paid attention to people after everything that happened with Ward and then Lincoln, so he is truly happy for her.

“I didn’t get her number though.” She mumbles. “But her name is Y/N, do you know her?”

At the mention of her name, Coulson’s brows raise. “Y/N? About yay tall, great hair, smiling all the time?” He gestures with his hands, wanting to make sure they’re thinking about the same person.

“Yeah! So you do know her?”

“Ask her number from May. I’m banner from that duty since I apparently don’t know how to judge a person’s vibes well enough.” He says it as if it’s the moat ridiculous thing he has ever heard, but there’s fondness in his tone.

Daisy furrows her brows, now lifting her head up properly to watch Coulson. “You know her well? May too?”

“Mhm.” He smiles, his arms crossed over his chest. “She is our daughter.”

There is a prolonged silence as Daisy tries to wrap her head around the sentence. “Daughter? You-“ she opens and closes her mouth, her wide eyes stuck on Coulson’s grinning face. “I know you two are together, but long enough to have a whole adult daughter?”

“Very few people know.”

“Why wasn’t I one of those people?”

“Security reasons. Don’t worry, none of the people on the team know.” Coulson takes out his phone, informing May that Daisy is now aware of their daughter.

“But-“ Daisy huffs before shaking her head. “Philinda daughter…” she mumbles.

“Please don’t call her that. May might hurt you.” Coulson pats Daisy’s shoulder. “Do you want her number?”

“Yes! Yes, I want her number.”

“Go get it from May-“ Daisy is already on her feet, “she is getting the bus ready.” And Daisy is gone, leaving Coulson to chuckle by himself.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

since you're taking requests for joey from friends, could you possibly write an angsty one-shot (with a happy ending)? i love your writing sm and i love joey so im sure it'll be perfect <3

The One With the Pie || Joey Tribbiani x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • f•r•i•e•n•d•s masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: after your crush on joey ends before it can begin, you start to move on. but maybe, just maybe, the story of you and joey isn’t over just yet

word count: 6.6k

warnings: suggestive material

a/n: thank you for this request love!! i hope you enjoy this and it’s angsty enough for u 💋 there’re two ocs in here (james + jessica) so if you don’t recognize them from the show that’s why!! also somehow i made this way longer than i intended to so sorry about that but enjoy!! <3💌🩰

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Joey, stop!” 

     You jumped towards Joey, trying to retrieve your stolen piece of pie from him, which he was currently holding above his head.

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

     “That pie had my name on it,” you huffed, making another jump for it. 

     “I don’t remember seeing a name,” he acted innocent, crumpling up a piece of paper that most definitely had your name on it.

     “Oh yeah? And what is that?” You made a grab for it and he threw the paper behind him, catching your wrist. 

     Your heartbeat picked up because of the jumping and certainly not because of the sudden physical contact with Joey. Or, that’s what you were telling yourself. 

     “That is just my…grocery list.” Joey gestured at the ball of paper. 

     “You don’t buy your groceries,” you countered, “so nice try.”

    “Curse you, Chandler.” 

     You shook his hand off your wrist and gripped his forearm for leverage as you tried to twist to grab the pie again. 

     “So you admit, my name was on that pie?” 

     He smiled. “Nope. Still no. And unlabeled leftovers are fair game.”

     “Not when they’re from my fridge,” Monica walked over to you and Joey, pinching him and grabbing the pie. She handed it back to you.

     “Ow, Mon,” he rubbed at his arm, “I was going to give it back. I was just borrowing it.”

     “Yeah, and I had it under control.” you realized your hand was still around Joey’s arm and you quickly put a hand on your hip.

     Monica watched the movement and then rolled her eyes at both of you.

     “And you’d better make sure you didn’t get crumbs all over my floor with that,” she called as she walked back towards her bedroom.

     You’d been staying with Monica and Rachel while you looked for a place. You appreciated her sharing her apartment with you but you couldn’t say you didn’t miss being able to put your feet on the furniture and drink milk out of the carton.

     As Monica disappeared from view, Rachel walked out of her room in a bathrobe. 

     “Hey (Y/n), hey Joey,” she said on her way to the fridge, “Wait a minute, what are you doing here, Joe?” 

     “Stopped by before my audition to eat my leftover pie,” he said. You elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow, ok (Y/n)’s pie. Happy?” He looked at you.

     “Very,” you said, satisfied.

     “Well, good luck at your audition,” Rachel said, looking in the refrigerator. 

     “Thanks,” Joey said, sitting down at the table, before standing up again quickly. “Oh right, my audition! I’d better get going. Last time I was late to one of these the casting director made me pay.”

     “What’d they do?” You asked.

     “Made me give her 10 bucks for wasting her time. Like I had 10 bucks with me,” Joey said as he walked towards the door. 

     “Break a leg! You’re going to kill it,” you called after him. 

     “Thanks (Y/n),” He kissed you on the cheek before leaving and you watched him go, trailing a hand over your cheek where Joey’s lips had been. 

     “You’re so obvious,” Rachel said pouring milk in her cereal.  

     “I don’t know what you mean,” you told her, as if she didn’t know that you’d been crushing on him for the past few weeks. Rachel just raised an eyebrow at you.

     You hadn’t known what had changed. You’d been friends with Joey for nearly a year. But sometime recently you had started to see him differently and you wanted more and more to be something more than just friends. 

      “You say that every time,” Monica said, obviously overhearing and walking back into the room. “And so I’ll tell you what I tell you every time. Tell him.” 

     You had been avoiding that part for a while. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to make a move—you knew you’d have to at some time if you wanted your relationship to progress any further—but it was more that you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with Joey. You valued it so much and you couldn’t bear to make things weird between you if he didn’t feel the same way. And you doubted he did. He’d never exactly expressed interest in you. 

     “What’s the worst that could happen?” Monica continued.

     Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at her. 

     “Ok I get it, a lot,” she said, “But what’s love without a little risk.”

     You preferred not to risk anything, thank you. But she was right. You knew it. You ran a hand through your hair as you thought. “I don’t know, Mon.”

     “Come on sweetie,” Rachel added, “Joey would be lucky to have you. You’re sweet and funny and kind. Heck, if he doesn’t take you I will.” She smiled at you. 

     You laughed and gave in. “You really think I should tell him?

     “Yes,” they said at the same time and you laughed.

     “But only when you’re ready,” Rachel added, putting a hand on your arm. 

     Were you ready? You supposed you never really would be. 

     You steeled yourself, “Alright, I’ll talk to him.”

    You walked towards the door. 

    “Honey?” Rachel called, “Love the enthusiasm but Joey’s not home.”

     You remembered the audition. “Right,” you walked back towards the kitchen, “tomorrow.”

     You couldn’t say you were sorry about the delay. It would at least give you more time to think about what to say. You sat down at the table with Rachel and Monica and began to peel a banana, thinking about what tomorrow might bring.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You knocked on the door of Joey’s apartment. You weren’t exactly ready, but it was now or never, you thought, as you waited for Joey to answer the door.

     You were greeted by Chandler instead. You let out a breath. 

     “Oh, I thought you were going to be Joey,” you told him.

     “No need to look so disappointed,” Chandler said, “Good evening to you too.” 

     “I’m not disappointed,” you told him, “I just—is Joey home?” You asked. 

     “You know, if I had a dollar every time a girl said that to me when opening this door…” 

     You shook your head, smiling, “I just have something I need to ask him.”

     “He’s out right now but he should be back soon. Can I take a message?”

     “This is kinda something that needs to be said in person,” you said, playing with a strand of your hair.

     Chandler led you in to the apartment and you sat down on the couch. 

     “So how did Joey’s audition go?” You asked Chandler, trying to make small talk so you wouldn’t die of anticipation while you waited for Joey to get home.

     “Not great,” he admitted, “Something about apple juice and a wild parrot which I’m assuming means he didn’t get the part.”

     You laughed despite your nerves. You didn’t even want to know what Chandler meant by that.

     “I thought maybe he was at a callback,” you said, thinking aloud, “but never mind.”

     “No, Joey has a date,” Chandler said. “Some hot girl he met at the audition, so I guess it wasn’t a total waste.”

     You stopped listening. Hot girl? No. This couldn’t be happening. Joey was out right now with some beautiful woman and you were waiting in his apartment ready to confess your love for him. 

     “(Y/n), are you ok?” Chandler must have noticed your expression because he looked concerned.

     “I have to go,” you told him in a hurry before bouncing up and walking towards the door. It was only then when you heard footsteps approaching and the sound of Joey’s voice as he talked to someone—presumably his date. You ran the other way back towards Chandler.

     “You have to hide me,” you gripped his shirt in your hands. 

     Chandler looked absolutely baffled. You didn’t have time for this.

     “Now!” 

     “Um, my room,” Chandler said as he hurried you in there. 

     “If he asks just say you have a girl in here,” you called out to him in a whisper.

     “He’s not going to believe that!” Chandler whisper-yelled back to you before you started to shut the door quickly. 

     “You’ll think of something,” you said back. “Tell me when the coast is clear.”

     You left Chandler looking lost in the living room. Safely behind his door you relaxed but only a little. You would just wait until Joey went to the bathroom or something and then Chandler would sneak you out. No harm done, right? You would feel sad later. 

     You heard Joey enter the apartment and you could just make out his and Chandler’s voices.

      “So how was it?” Chandler asked him.

      “Amazing! Jessica’s great! She stopped to say hi to someone she knew down the hall but she’ll be here any second.”

      “Well that’s fantastic, Joe,” Chandler said. 

     “What’s fantastic?” You heard a female voice and your hearing sharpened.

     “You are,” you heard Joey tell her smoothly.

     “No you’re fantastic,” she said back.

      You were going to be sick. Every word they said was like a punch to the gut. And you didn’t mind admitting that you mocked Joey’s date behind the closed door like any self-respecting person would. 

      “Well, I’m glad you two had a good time,” Chandler said, “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll just be getting back to my room.”

      You heard Chandler’s footsteps grow closer to you. They were both silent for a moment and you strained to hear. You leaned forwards and knocked an alarm clock off the desk. It crashed to the floor and you might’ve been fine if it didn’t begin going off loudly. You cursed Chandler under your breath for buying an alarm clock that made rooster sounds. 

     “Chandler, do you have someone in there?” You heard Joey say. 

      “W-why would you think that?” 

     “Yeah you’re right,” he said, laughing it off, “Like you would have a girl in your room that I don’t know about.” 

      “Yep, that’s me,” Chandler said wryly, “alone forever.”

      Chandler opened the door just a crack and then stepped into his room. 

      “You better pretend to be my date next time we do this,” he whisper-yelled. 

     “You better have a normal alarm clock next time we do this!” You threw your arms up.

     “It makes me think of the farm!” he said, indignantly.

     “You’ve never lived on a farm!”

     “Whatever,” Chandler gave up, “You can go now, Joey’s in his room with Jessica.”

     You nodded and felt relieved as you made your way to the door. You only realized what this meant when you heard Joey and Jessica in the other room.

     And from the sound of it, they were certainly enjoying the second part of their date. 

     And with that the reality of the evening crashed down on you. You and Joey weren’t  going to happen. He was clearly interested in whomever this woman was and your plans for confessing your feelings were obviously ruined.

     You sat down on Chandler’s bed and put your head in your hands—and over your ears so you didn’t have to hear what was going on in Joey’s room.

     Chandler sat down next to you and placed an arm around you. 

     “I know,” is all he said as he rubbed your shoulders.

     “How do—” You started, sniffing. You hadn’t actually told Chandler why you were here to see Joey. He ignored it. 

     “His loss,” Chandler said and you managed a weak smile as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

     This was so not how you imagined this evening going. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “…and then they did it for the rest of the night and Chandler and I watched a movie,” you told Monica, Rachel, and Phoebe as you took a sip of your coffee.

     All three of you were at Central Perk and you were filling them in on the events of the past night. 

     Which had been, all things considered, fairly miserable. You appreciated Chandler hanging out with you all night and at least the volume of the movie drowned out anything else…almost. But you still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Joey and the other girl.

     “I’m sorry honey,” Rachel said, “is there anything we can do to help?”

     “Get rid of Jessica?” You mumbled sarcastically.

     “Well—” Phoebe started, an inspired look in her eye.

     You interrupted her, “I’m kidding, Pheebs. But I appreciate the support.”

     You sighed. You were just going to have to get on with your life and pretend nothing had ever been different. Pretend you didn’t want Joey every time that you saw him and be happy for him and his new relationship. 

     “Well, there are plenty of other fish in the sea,” Phoebe said. 

     “And if I don’t want any other fish?” You said, looking down at your coffee mug.

     “You could always talk to Joey about it,” Monica said. “I mean, maybe if he knew how you felt—”

     “Ok, don’t look,” Rachel said, watching out the window. “But Joey’s coming inside.”

     Your stomach flipped. For all you told yourself about moving on and pretending, you weren’t sure if you were ready to see Joey yet. What if it was too painful or you were to obvious? You paused, contemplating how weird it was for you to be nervous to see Joey. You had been friends for so long and you weren’t used to it.

     No time to think about that now, you told yourself as you jumped out of your seat and turned around. You saw Joey walk through the door and you backed up helplessly.

     “Hey guys,” he said, seeing all of you. 

     “Hey Joey,” Phoebe said, “It’s great to see you but, uh, Monica and Rachel and I were just about to go to our…knitting class. Right?”

     What was she doing?

     “Right,” Monica said, elbowing Rachel.

     “Oh yes, and we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon,” Rachel said, understanding on her face. 

     They all walked towards the door and you stared after them hopelessly. 

     “Talk to him,” Monica mouthed and you bit your lip. 

     “Knitting?” Joey asked.

     “Yeah, well you know how I like the smell of…yarn,” Phoebe fumbled, “We’ll see you guys later.”

     And with that, her and the other two girls were gone leaving you alone with Joey. Well, alone aside from the dozen or so other customers oblivious to your awkwardness as you tried to find words…any words.

     Joey sat down at one of the tables and you sat on the edge of the couch a few feet away.

     “That was weird,” Joey looked thoughtful, “Does yarn have a smell?”

     You shrugged and Joey kept talking.

     “Anyway, I’m starving, do you want anything?”

     “No, thank you, I just ate.”

     A lie. You hoped your rumbling stomach didn’t deceive you.

     Joey ordered and then returned to his table, “So (Y/n), what’s new with you?”

     “Um, nothing really,” you said, “You?”

     You regretted it immediately when you heard his answer.

     Joey ran a hand through his hair, smiling, “Well, I met this really great girl the other day and I’m actually waiting for her right now. We’re supposed to go bowling. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

     “Oh, that’s awesome.” 

     Was your voice usually this high?

     “I’d love to meet her but, I have to go,” you checked your invisible watch, “now, actually. I’m meeting some friends.”

     Another lie. You had to get out of here before you were stuck meeting—

     “Jessica!”

     Joey hurried over to her and kissed her on the cheek. You bit the inside of your cheek and watched as Joey brought her over to you.

     “Jessica this is my friend (Y/n)…”

     Friend.

     “…and (Y/n), this is my girlfriend Jessica.”

    Girlfriend.

    You watched Joey smiling and looking expectantly between the two of you. You should be supportive of him. That’s what a good friend would do.

     So you inhaled and said, “Hi Jessica, it’s so nice to meet you.”

     “You too,” Jessica said, pushing her blonde locks behind her ear. “Joey and I really should be going but I’d love to get to know each other sometime.”

     “Definitely,” you said and Joey looked thrilled at the two of you talking.

     “See you later (Y/n),” Joey said and then more quietly, “wish me luck.”

     “Good luck,” you almost whispered as you watched Joey and his girlfriend walk away, his hand in hers, him leaning slightly down to hear something that she was saying into his ear.

     And you wanted to wish him luck, you really did. But as you watched Joey walk away with the Jessica, all you could think about was how desperately you wanted that to be you.

     You weren’t paying much attention to what you were doing as you picked up Joey’s forgotten drink order and scone. 

     You turned around to go sit down and crashed into something—or, someone it seemed—on your way there. The coffee went flying and you fell to the ground. 

     “Are you ok?” You heard a male voice say. 

     You looked up and saw a tall man staring down at you, coffee dripping down his front and an arm out to help you up. You took it and dusted yourself off.

      “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you hurried out.

     “My fault entirely,” he said. 

     “I’ll buy you a new shirt,” you said.

     “I didn’t like it anyway,” he waved it off. “You did me a favor honestly. Don’t tell Aunt Ruth.”

     You laughed despite yourself, and picked up the mug and scone from the floor.

     “I’m (Y/n),” you said, filling the silence.

     “James,” he shot back. 

     “Scone?” You offered him the pastry awkwardly.

     “Sorry, he said, “but my parents always said never to take floor-scones from strangers. Even very beautiful strangers.”

     You found yourself blushing and your eyes widened. What was happening?

     “But I’d be happy to take you out for real food sometime. If that’s something you would be interested in?”

     You played with the fabric of your shirt. You immediately thought of Joey bit stopped yourself.

     Why should you be thinking of Joey right now? He clearly wasn’t interested in you, so why waste time on something that clearly wasn’t going to happen. Maybe you should take this man up on his offer and go on a date with him. He was funny and nice and had called you beautiful. 

     “Ok, this is getting embarrassing,” he backed up, “Let me down easy, ok?”

     You laughed, “I would love to go out with you sometime.”

     “Not to sound super eager or anything,” he said, “but do you wanna do something now?” 

     “Your shirt?” You prompted.

     “Oh, I’m making it a style now,” he said. “I’m totally adding trendsetter to my resume.”

     “Alright then, let’s do something,” you said, feeling better than you had in the past couple days as James led you out of the door of Central Perk.

     Maybe this was just what you needed.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “Are you sure he’s coming?”

     “He’ll be here any second, I promise.”

     You answered Phoebe and took a deep breath as you sat at Central Perk with your friends, who were all eagerly waiting for your boyfriend to arrive so they could meet him. 

     Your boyfriend. You pondered the word. If someone has told you a week ago that you’d be seeing someone, you’d have laughed in their face. And no one probably would have, because your friends were just as surprised as you were. They all knew how you felt about Joey. 

     And until you met James you hadn’t thought it possible that you would get over Joey at all. Or at least not for a very long while. 

     But one date with James had turned into seven and you were actually happy. You had learned a lot about him and you had plenty in common. He was so easy to be around that it made you forget about Joey and Jessica and the relationship that would never be.

     Almost. You still felt bitter at the thought of them together, but you tried to push those feelings aside and focus on this relationship.          You reminded yourself that you should be over Joey.

     You saw a glimpse of a familiar flannel through the window of the coffee shop. 

     “Alright everyone be quiet, here he comes,” you said. 

     And you were over Joey, you told yourself, as you watched the amazing guy you were dating walk through the door and catch your eye, smiling at you. 

    You hoped, you added as you looked over at Joey finishing off a blueberry muffin. He shot you a thumbs up and you gave him a weak smile back. 

     “Hey (Y/n)!” James, your boyfriend of exactly three weeks, said. “Everyone.”

     A chorus of ‘hey’ and ‘it’s nice to meet you’ and ‘Well, now I know why (Y/n)’s dating you. You know, for the free firewood’ —that being Chandler—followed as you made the introductions. 

     You rolled your eyes at Chandler. James was an accountant, and not a lumberjack. He had talked about his love of numbers on multiple occasions.

     “It’s so great to finally see you,” Monica shook his hand, “(Y/n) talks about you all the time.”

     Did you? You supposed you did. You hadn’t let any of them meet James at first so your descriptions of your dates were all they had to go on. And if you exaggerated his perfection than it was just because you really liked him and wanted all your friends to like him. You shook off the thought that some of it might be to convince yourself.

     Because on paper James was perfect. And you really enjoyed spending time with him. But—

     You glanced over at Joey again. 

     No. He had his relationship and you had yours. It was better this way. Because he was still seeing Jessica and it sounded like they were hitting it off.

     And if some of your gushing about James was for Joey’s benefit than so be it.

     “All good things I hope,” James answered and you were brought back to the present. 

     Monica turned away and mouthed ‘he’s hot’ to you enthusiastically. You rolled your eyes at her. 

     “So, what do you do?” Ross asked James as the latter walked over and sat down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

     “I’m an accountant,” he said. 

     Chandler passed a five dollar bill to Ross, mumbling something about “being sure he was a lumberjack”. 

     Rachel elbowed Chandler and as he rubbed his arm she smiled warmly at James and said, “Well, any friend of (Y/n)’s is a friend of ours.”

     “Which hasn’t happened yet because all of (Y/n)’s friends are sitting on this couch!” Phoebe said, teasing. She wasn’t wrong.

     “Well, you all seem really great but (Y/n) and I have to run. We have a movie to get to.” James stood up and you moved with him.

     You said goodbye to everyone, taking James’s hand. On your way out you risked a glance at Joey. You couldn’t help it. He had been so quiet throughout your whole introduction. You didn’t know why, but you almost thought he was disappointed? Or maybe just bored? Probably wishing he was with Jessica right now. 

     Once you thought of it you wished you hadn’t because you felt awful all over again and you willed your cheeks not to heat. You sighed. Now, Joey was looking down, running a finger around the top of his empty coffee mug. He caught you looking at him and you tried to play it off by waving. Pretending you hadn’t just been staring at him. He gave you an almost too enthusiastic wave back and you just turned around and kept walking towards the door, away from Joey and towards your boyfriend who was waiting for you.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “I’m just saying, if pineapple doesn’t  belong on pizza then why is it on pizza?” Joey said, throwing down his cards on the table.

     “You got me there,”  Chandler said, rolling his eyes. “And I fold.”

     You stifled a laugh as you examined the cards in your hand. You, Joey, Chandler, and James were all seated around Joey and Chandler’s kitchen table playing a game of poker. 

     The whole thing had been James’s idea, and at first you weren’t sure that it was a good one. You’d been doing a lot of different activities that he had planned with your friends lately as he tried to get to know them  better. 

     You appreciated that he wanted to be friends with your friends and all of his efforts were actually adorable. You had already been with Phoebe to her grandma’s together, went with Ross to his museum, and last week you had gone shopping with   Monica and Rachel—and James somehow went home with an armful of fabric swatches, talking about undertones.

     But this was different. It was getting easier and easier to be around Joey as time passed and weeks went by and you were both in relationships, but things were still a bit awkward, on your part at least. 

     But it did seem like Joey was…distant lately as well. It was probably just the fact that he was spending a lot of time with his girlfriend and you scolded yourself for worrying about it. Right now you were just friends playing a game of poker. You looked over and James and found him trying to look at your cards. 

     “No peeking,” you told James as he looked over your shoulder, so not discreetly.

     “Maybe I just wanted to kiss you,” he covered, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

     “Full house,” you whispered to him, flashing him your cards and he smiled down at you.

     Chandler reached his arms out to Joey and pursed his lips, “Show me your cards?”

     Everyone laughed and Joey aimed his cards away from Chandler.

     “Hey, is it my fault for wanting to kiss my girlfriend?” James acted innocent. “Since when is that cheating?”

     He put an arm around you and you kissed him on the cheek.

     “House rules,” Joey said.

     James shrugged, “He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”

     As he grabbed your hand you heard Joey’s chair slide on the hard-wood floor. 

     “I’ll be right back guys, I’m going to go get us something to eat. Play this hand without me.”

     You watched him leave the room and Chandler called after him.

     “But you don’t have any money with you!”

     “I’ll go to Monica’s,” he called back.

     “You most certainly will not,” Monica said and you turned around to find her standing in the doorway of her apartment. “And your girlfriend’s waiting for you. Why in my apartment, I don’t know.”

     “Oh, right,” Joey said sheepishly, “Can I use your apartment? I told her I’d be over there. It’s important.”

     “Joey!” You heard Monica yell before Chandler got up and shut the door and their voices became muffled. 

     You tried not to think about what important thing Joey could mean. You pushed thoughts of him and Jessica away and reminded yourself that you didn’t care.

     “Well,” Chandler said, “I think I’m out too before I lose anymore money and then who’ll pay the rent?”

     “Yeah, I should get going. I promised my sister I’d help her clean out her basement,” James headed towards the door and Chandler raised an eyebrow at him.

    “Hey,” James defended, “If you’d seen my sister’s house you’d understand why it’s a two person job. Or, a team of movers’ job. Bye, (Y/n).”

     He kissed you quickly and then left the apartment, leaving you with Chandler. It felt eerily like a little over a month ago when you had gone there to ask Joey out.

     “So, you’ve been seeing James for a while now,” Chandler prompted.

     “Yep,” you said, “He’s really great.”

     Chandler stepped towards you hesitantly, “So you and Joe?”

     “What about me and Joe?” You kept your voice even, “He’s in a relationship and so am I. We’re both happy and that’s that.”

     “Well—” Chandler started, but was interrupted by Joey sighing as he entered his apartment. 

     “Glad that’s over with,” Joey said.

     “Did you let her down easy?” Chandler asked.

     “As easy as I could. And then she started crying and—this is why I just don’t call people back,” he sat down on the couch. “Breaking up with people in person is hard.”

     “What? You broke up with Jessica?” You could hardly believe it. “I thought you guys were so happy together.”

     Joey looked over at you, “Well, you know, we just didn’t have that much in common.”

     You were both silent for a moment. 

     “Hey,” Chandler announced, “This is awkward! So I’m just going to...”

     He ran out the door and you cursed him under your breath.

     “Weird,” Joey mumbled and you sat down opposite from Joey as you processed this new information.

     Joey wasn’t seeing anyone. You stopped yourself before you could go any further. No. You were in a good relationship and Joey had just got out of one. Now was not a good time. And just because he wasn’t dating Jessica didn’t mean he all of a sudden wanted to date you. And you were over him. Right?

     “So you and James are really serious now,” Joey said.

     “Yeah, I guess,” you responded. You hadn’t really thought of it like that, but you suppose technically you were. 

     “Well, I’m really happy for you,” he said, “He’s a lucky guy.”

     It doesn’t mean anything, you told yourself, he’s just being a good friend.

     “Well, I’m sorry about you and Jessica.”

     “Don’t be,” Joey stood up, “It wasn’t meant to be.”

     He took a step towards you.

     “Do you ever wonder if anything’s actually ‘meant to be’? Or is it just our decisions that lead us places?” You pondered.

     “I think if something is meant to happen than you’ll realize it and make the decisions that lead you there,” Joey said, taking another step closer to you. 

     “Really?” You asked, “You don’t think something could be staring you in the face and you don’t recognize the signs?”

     “I think in a way you always know,” Joey said, more sincere now. “Even if you don’t realize it until it’s too late.”

     You were saved from working out the meaning of that and this whole conversation by the phone ringing and Joey picking it up. His face got dark before he covered it up and smiled at you.

     “It’s James.”

     You walked over and took the phone from him. 

     “Hello?”

      His voice was muffled but he sounded intense when he said, “Hey, (Y/n), I need to talk to you. Are you free…now?”

     “Um, yeah, I can be at Central Perk in five minutes.”

     “Sounds good,” he said, “I’ll see you there. Love you.”

     You hesitated and he hung up. Joey looked to you, obviously curious about what that was all about.

     “He says he needs to talk to me and to meet him in a few minutes.”

     You headed towards the door and Joey handed you your coat. 

     “See you later,” you said and he shut the door behind you as you stepped out into the hall.

     What could James possibly want?

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “James is leaving,” you announced. 

     You hung your coat on the coat rack of Monica’s apartment. All of your friends were lounging around in the living room but they rushed over towards you at this declaration and you held out your arms.

     “No, I’m fine, really.” 

     In truth, you were too fine. More fine than you should be, after dating James for the better part of a month and a half. Which wasn’t a long time, but you had gotten to know him well and you really liked him.

     “Are you sure you’re ok?” Rachel asked, putting a hand on your amt. 

     “Yes,” you reiterated, “James was offered a new job in California and he is going to take it. It’s all very sudden, but I’m ok. And technically, he gave me the option. To either stay long distance or end it now. I’m…still thinking it over.”

     You knew you should be more affected. But you felt numb to the sudden departure of your boyfriend. You knew you should be upset, and you were sad at the loss of him in your life. But it was more that you were going to miss spending time with him as a friend rather than as a boyfriend. 

     You didn’t pretend not to know why that was. 

     Either way, you still had to decide if you wanted to stay with him or not. He had left the decision up to you, saying that he’d be fine with whatever decision you made, and had told you to take all the time you need. 

     You told him you’d call him tonight. You didn’t tell him why you were hesitating to answer him. Because you wanted to stay with him. But you couldn’t make yourself say it, because what if you were missing other opportunities. Your conversation with Joey earlier had made you think and you couldn’t help but ponder what if.

     Not that you had much confidence in that. Joey wasn’t even here right now, you realized.

     You were brought back to the present. “So what are you going to tell him?” Ross asked.

     “I don’t know yet,” you sighed, “I suppose I have no reason not to stay with him, even though we’ll be so far apart.”

     That was the sensible thing, right? Stay with the great guy that wanted to be with you even miles and miles apart. You needed to stop focusing on what probably couldn’t be and focus on what already was. 

     “If you’re sure,” Monica said. “We’ll support whatever decision you make.”

    “I’m sure he’ll send you lots of free wood from California,” Chandler said, and you chuckled.

     “Phoebe?” Rachel furrowed her brow, “Are you alright?”

      Phoebe stood over by the couch. She was biting her lip and looked like she was stopping herself from saying something.

     “Phoebe?” You asked, “What is it?”

     “Oh, it’s just—” she started, “No, I can’t tell you! It wouldn’t be right!”

     “Tell me,” you said, walking over to her. 

     She backed up, “No!”

     “Phoebe!”

     “I can’t!”

     “Phoebe!”

      “Joey’s in love with you! Ok? There I said it,” She sat down on the couch and looked like she had been wanting to say that for a long time. 

     You felt like you had been turned upside down. 

     “He didn’t say anything because of you and James and, you know, but he loves you, (Y/n). And I know I shouldn’t be telling you and I promised him I wouldn’t but—” she stood up again, “I know you love him and before you make this decision you just need to know that.”

     You couldn’t even begin to comprehend this. Joey loved you? That couldn’t be true. Phoebe must be mistaken and—

     Joey walked into the apartment. You saw your friends look around at each other.

     “You love me?” You mumbled barely able to believe it. 

     Joey’s smiling face went pale and filled with horror as he backed up slowly.

     “Oops,” Phoebe mumbled and Joey glanced once at her before hurrying out the door and down the hall. 

     “Joey, wait!” You shut the door behind you and caught up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you.

     “Look (Y/n), I never meant to—” 

     “You love me?” You asked again. 

     “(Y/n), you have to believe me when I say—”

     You stepped so you looked Joey directly in the eye.

     “No, Joey,” you whispered, “I need to know, do you love me? 

     “I can’t love you, (Y/n),” his voice raised with every word, “I can’t love you. And I can’t love you so much that it hurts to pretend that I don’t….that I do…that I…” 

     He looked up, confused, “Oh, you get the point! And every time I see you with James I’m reminded of how I can’t have you.”

     Your conversation about signs and realizations came back to you. Your heart stopped beating. When you found words your voice came out shaky and breathless. “But…Jessica?” 

     “Jessica and I broke up,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I just realized that too late.”

     “And I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Joey continued, “I never planned on telling you any of this…”

     He looked up at you and you tried to discern the expression on his face. 

     “Just forget I said anything, ok?” Joey said looking pained, “I hope you and James are happy together, I really do. Just, forget it.” 

     He moved to walk past you and you started talking trust to stop him from leaving. 

     “James is an amazing guy,” you said, your words coming out slowly, “he’s smart and thoughtful and attractive—”

    “Is this supposed to be helping?” Joey asked, turning around. 

     “What I mean is, James is perfect,” you said, “but he’ll never be you.”

     Joey’s eyes snapped to yours and you continued, “I only started dating James because I was trying to get over you. James is moving away and he left the decision with me to end or keep our relationship.”

     You stepped closer to Joey. “So say the word. Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me and I’ll leave him and be yours.”

     Joey closed the distance between you, fire burning in his eyes. “I love you (Y/n). God, I love you so much.”

     And he kissed you. He kissed you like he had been waiting a thousand years. He backed you up against the wall and his hands went to your hair as you kissed him back. You threw your arms around his neck and took in the beauty of this moment.

     It was passionate and raw and everything you had been hoping for and more. 

     Joey pulled away from you, reaching to brush the hair back from your face.

     “Wow, (Y/n).”

     “Yeah,” you breathed. “I guess I have Phoebe to thank for this.”

     “You’re welcome!” You heard Phoebe’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.

     You smiled at Joey, rolling your eyes and walking over to open the apartment door.

     You turned the knob and all of your friends faces greeted you as they scrambled away from the door. 

     “Run!” Chandler yelled, “Scatter! She can’t catch all of us! It was Monica’s idea!”

     “Seriously Chandler?” Monica smacked him in the arm.

     You laughed. 

     “We’re just so happy for you two,” Rachel said. You tried to convey your gratitude to her—to all of them—for their friendship. 

     “I’m happy,” you said. You felt giddy in a way that you hadn’t in a long time—that you had never felt with James.

     “We knew you’d get together,” Phoebe nodded. “My psychic totally saw it coming.”

     “And we were only listening at the door for a little bit,” Ross added.

     Joey put his arm around you and you leaned in to him. You couldn’t even pretend to be offended, you were just glad to be here in Joey’s arms, surrounded by your friends. 

     “What do you say we go get a bite or something?” Joey asked you.

     You nodded as he walked out the door with you and down the hall once again. 

     “How about pie?” You teased, remembering your almost-stolen leftovers.

     “My treat,” Joey answered in agreement. “Have all the pie you want!”

     “Will it be mine this time?” You teased back.

     “All yours,” Joey said, stopping to look down at you softly. His eyes sparkled as he said, 

     “Just like me.”

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ i hope you enjoyed this, i love writing for the friends characters so much!! you can find my other friends fics on my friends masterlist. as always feedback is appreciated and i hope you have a lovely week!! 🍓🪩