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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

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Reflections | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alcoholism, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions/descriptions of smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), angstangstangst, the crippling reality of being broke and in your twenties, an ambiguous ending! Up to your imagination what happens next :)

Word Count: 5026

A/N: For a lovely nonnie!! This fic hits close to home LMFAO as does the song the fic is inspired by. Not to call you out nonnie but tell me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly without telling me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly… lol. Anyway, i hope y’all enjoy this absolute angst cesspool of pre-season one Dean!!

Songs of the fic ! (did anyone else’s exes listen to the trifecta of male manipulator music aka car seat headrest, cigs after sec, and the neighbourhood? bonus points if chase atlantic is thrown in there, too)

Reflections by the Neighbourhood

Casual by Chappell Roan

Working for the Knife by Mitski

It’s Only Sex by Car Seat Headrest

Cry by Cigarettes After Sex

Queue up your favorite music streaming service if you’d like, and have a wonderful read!

Meeting Dean Winchester was among the more wonderful things that happened to you. After graduating from college, your life had been complete hell. Between non-stop job interviews, working shifts at a crappy restaurant job you’d had since sophomore year to be able to pay your rent, and a crumbling relationship with your family, you were drowning. Needing a night off, you decided to go out with a few of your friends.

It was that night that you met Dean. As soon as you walked into the bar, he caught your eye. He was busy chatting with a pretty blonde with long, toned legs, but you hardly noted her. He was all muscle, tall, freckled, and had probably been sculpted by the gods.

Men didn’t usually hold your attention. You were too busy and had too many previous relationships with frat boys and abusive idiots to worry about or focus on another one. Dean, however, was different.

Through the night, you tried to just enjoy your time with your friends, but every piece of you was hoping that the beautiful stranger would come over and talk to you. And finally, finally, your silent prayer came true.

His confidence was intimidating. Your friends all blushed and giggled when he approached, and your best friend pulled your other two girls away to another table to let you and Dean talk.

“Your friend seems disappointed,” he said evenly.

“In what?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips.

“That I’m talking to you and not her,” the man replied.

Oh, god. You knew his type. You knew he’d be horrible for you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “You’re very sure of yourself…” you trailed off, waiting for him to tell you his name.

“Dean,” he told you.

“Dean.” The name felt good rolling off your tongue. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Trust me, pleasure’s all mine,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You can drop the cheesy lines.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows.

“C’mon, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” you smirked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Most girls like ‘em,” he said, confidence unwavering.

“Do you think I’m like most girls?” you asked, eyes challenging and lustful.

“No,” he smirked.

***

That night was officially marked in the calendar as the night you had the best sex of your life. Dean was incredibly giving in bed, and he wouldn’t let himself finish until you did. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rough with you, and you appreciated how attentive to your reactions he was.

After that, Dean came over to your apartment every night for four days. And yet, you still knew very little about him.

“Where ‘re you from, Dee?” you asked, sitting on the couch across from him with a beer in your hand.

“Lawrence. In Kansas,” he replied shortly. Dean normally wasn’t as curt with you, and you knew you needed to press further into that.

“We’re a long way from Kansas, Toto,” you joked. “What’s got you out here?”

“Eh, y’know. My brother’s off at Stanford, my dad’s a dick when he’s not around, and I just needed to get away for a bit,” Dean explained, shrugging.

“Brother?” you asked.

A smile spread across his face. “Yeah, uh, Sam’s his name. He’s in undergrad for law. His freshman year.”

“Oh, damn. He must be really smart, then,” you prompted.

Dean nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, he is.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“What about me?” he replied, taking a sip of his beer.

“College?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Dropped out as soon as it was legal to.”

You snickered.

“What about you? What are you doin’ out here?” Dean asked, sinking further into your couch. Even the way he sat emanated confidence.

You sighed.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you—”

You shook your head. “No, no! It’s okay. It’s just— It’s complicated.” Dean allowed you to collect your thoughts for a moment. “Went to school, got myself a degree, and I graduated last year. And now, I’m barely keeping myself afloat. Applied to tons of places, got interviews at some, and all of ‘em fell through.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. “It’s alright. I’m sure every new grad goes through this shit.”

“What about your family?” Dean asked you. “You close with them?”

You scoffed. “All of them can suck my dick.”

Dean chuckled, clearly caught off-guard. “Jesus. That bad?”

“Absolutely.” You stretched and put your empty beer bottle down on the coffee table. “Life’s not all bad, though.”

“Oh?” Dean prompted.

“I met you, didn’t I?” you smiled lopsidedly.

The man chuckled but said nothing.

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. “Sorry, I— I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I did. I know we’re just hooking up, and—”

Dean shook his head. “No, no. It’s okay. Just… I wanna be upfront with you. I’m just rolling through. I’m never gonna be in one place for long.”

Your heart sank. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing against you, trust me. You’re—” Dean cut himself off, sighing. He sat up fully, put his beer down, and turned to face you. “Trust me. It’s not you.” He put his hand over yours, making you look up at him.

‘Damn his gorgeous face,’ you thought. You would never be able to stay angry with him for too long. You surged forward and pressed his lips to yours, pushing him down on the couch.

***

If you couldn’t have anything else with Dean, you were going to have sex with him as much as humanly possible. Slowly but surely, he was giving you indications that he was forming feelings for you, too.

Dean started staying the night around a week into the two of you hooking up. You were pleasantly surprised when he’d hold you while you slept, too. The sex became more passionate as opposed to rough and hard, even though you thoroughly enjoyed both. He asked you questions about your upbringing and your job, and was giving you every signal that he was interested in you for more than just sex.

And then, he disappeared. You called him several times, but you never got an answer. To say you were crushed was an understatement.

Even though you’d only known Dean for three weeks, you were falling hard for him. He had an effect on you that no one else did. Dean was kind, compassionate, funny, smart, and although immature at times, he had all the makings of a wonderful man and partner. And just like that, he left. No word, no note— nothing. Just the night before he was telling you how glad he was that he met you. Maybe that should have been a sign that something was wrong, but you supposed hindsight was 20/20.

At work that day, you were a complete mess of smudged eyeliner, knotted hair pulled back in a claw clip, and puffy eyes from crying.

“You good, (Y/N/N)?” one of your coworkers asked when she found you on your smoke break.

The cigarette trembled between your fingers, and tears poured down your cheeks. Your only response was a frantic head nod.

She gave you a deadpan look. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Holding the cigarette away from your face, you scrubbed your hand over your eyes. “Just this fucking guy.”

She grimaced, sucking in air through her teeth. “Shit. That’ll do it.”

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “On top of everything else that’s fucking falling apart in my life, I thought—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “Whatever. He’s a dick.” You took in a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves, and took a puff of your cigarette. You let out all the air and smoke from your lungs and turned to face your friend. “I gotta get back. I’m sure table twenty-five needs another fucking bucket of Michelob.” Having smoked almost the entire cigarette, you dropped it on the ground and stomped out the remaining embers.

Your coworker laughed as you opened the back door to the kitchen for her. “Let me know if you need anything,” she told you.

Nodding, you smiled in thanks for her kindness.

***

Truthfully, you were drowning. Bills just kept piling up, two more job applications had fallen through, and the restaurant had been slowing down on the weekdays steadily since summer ended. Tips were shitty, and your situation had gotten so bad, you’d need to start working a second job and taking the bus to work. If you couldn’t find a second job or a job your degree suited soon, you were screwed.

After yet another fight with your parents over how much of a screw-up you were in comparison to your brother and sister, you were done. You needed something to numb the world out. None of your friends were able to go out, seeing as it was a weeknight, and they all had “real” jobs.

And so, you sat on your couch and drank alone. You didn’t want to run up your power bill any more than it would already be this month, so you sat in silence with candles lit as you drank. Your logical mind knew this was a horrible idea— combining emotional exhaustion, fire hazards, and alcohol— but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

Your next late-night escapade with drinking came when you discovered you could numb out the feeling of being hungry with alcohol. The fridge and pantry were virtually empty, and you hadn’t had enough time or spare change to go to the grocery store after barely scraping by on rent and your bills the week prior.

Drinking also helped you to sleep through breakfast, so the only time you really needed to eat was lunch before going to work. You’d stopped responding to your friends’ texts, and your routine didn’t consist of anything aside from working, drinking, and applying to jobs.

The weeks droned by, and despite the chaos in your life, your thoughts were still of Dean. Why did he have so much power over you? You didn’t even really know him, and here you were, a complete fucking mess because he left without a word. You knew you couldn’t have been in love with him; maybe infatuation was a better way to describe your feelings for him.

Finally, your friend, Melanie, came over to drag you out of your misery. She did your hair and makeup, forced you to eat something, and brought you out on a Saturday night with your friend group. Her kindness was very much appreciated, and you thanked her profusely for it.

Your night out with your friends relit a bit of a fire in you. What kept you on even more of a high note was the interview you had a few days later at a bar. It had gone incredibly well, and the manager told you to expect a call very soon. Hope filled your chest at the thought of being able to have more than just a few cents left in your pocket after the monthly billing period.

***

You’d done it. You got the job! Your friends took you out once again as a celebration, and you felt like you were finally getting back to your old self. However, that was when your friends noticed something was wrong. You’d never been the friend to get blackout drunk; you were always holding your friends’ hair back while they threw up in the bathroom. And yet, you were as sloppily drunk as ever.

The next thing to catch their attention was you stumbling over to them with a seemingly arrogant prick’s arm around you.

“Guys,” you swallowed, “guys! This is…” you trailed off, not exactly sure what his name was. “Sorry, handsome, what’s your name?”

That was when another of your friends, Syriah, pulled you aside and away from the man. “(Y/N), what is wrong with you?” she asked.

Your eyes were immediately dewey. “What? What’d I do wrong?”

“Babe, you’re all over the place. What’s happening to you?” she asked compassionately, steadying you with her hands on your shoulders.

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I don’t know,” you said earnestly, collapsing onto her shoulder when she pulled you into a tight hug. “I don’t like how this feels, Riah.”

She petted your hair and just held you against her. “Look, I’ll get you a cab. We just need to get you home safe, okay?”

You nodded into her shoulder, still hiccuping.

Once you got back to your apartment, you flopped down across the couch. Against your better judgment, you called Dean. Of course, he didn’t answer, so you left a voicemail. “Hey! Hi, Dee.” Your voice sounded funny because your cheek was pressed against your couch, and you laughed at yourself. “Sorry for calling, I, um—” you swallowed harshly, “I just miss you. A lot. And I don’t know why. ‘Cause I kinda hate you for leaving me, y’know? Like, what the— what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m a catch, okay.” You paused, hiccuping. “And another thing, it’s rude to leave without saying anything. I thought we were better friends than just fuck buddies. Why wouldn’t you— why wouldn’t you say something? Anything?” Sniffles and tears escaped you. “You suck, okay? But also, I miss your dick. Bring it back, okay? But fuck you.” And then, you hung up.

***

Thankfully, you woke up just in time the next day to get to your new job for training. You looked like a complete trainwreck, but you did your best to smooth out your hair and conceal the bags under your eyes on the bus ride there.

You went about working absentmindedly and did your best to smile and joke around with your trainer. After an exhausting day with little time to recount the events of the night before, you went back to your apartment to catch up on sleep. However, your nighttime routine was interrupted by frantic knocks on your door.

“Alright, alright I’m—” You cut yourself off, mouth going slack when you found Dean standing in front of your apartment.

“Dean?” you breathed out.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smirked awkwardly.

You suddenly snapped yourself out of your surprise and became incredibly angry. “You have a lot of fucking nerve showing up here, do you know that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Can we— Can we just talk, please?”

“Why should I even give you the time of day?!” you snarked incredulously.

“ ‘Cause you told me you miss me. And my dick,” he tried to charm you.

You scoffed. “What?! No, I didn’t.”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, you did. In your voicemail last night.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you remembered flashes of leaving that horrifically embarrassing voicemail. “Oh, fuck.” You dropped your face toward the floor, pinching your temples and thinking. “You’ve got five minutes,” you finally told Dean, letting him into your apartment.

“Look,” Dean began while you closed the door behind him, “I didn’t wanna leave.”

You scoffed again.

“I know. But I had to,” he explained.

“Why?” you asked. “If you had to leave, fine, but why couldn’t you at least call me back?”

“Because this isn’t good! For either of us,” he responded, voice rising slightly.

“Why?!” you pressed. “And what gives you the right to make that decision for me?!”

“Because I can’t give you what you want!” Dean argued. “I can’t stay for longer than a few weeks at a time. I can’t. And I can’t tell you why. And I’m making that decision because I know you won’t make that decision for yourself.”

“You don’t know me, Dean! We hooked up, for like, two fucking weeks!” you laughed incredulously. “I am perfectly capable of making decisions for myself, thank you!”

“I do know you. God, we are so much alike, and that’s just another reason why we don’t fucking work,” he responded. Then, Dean’s voice quieted considerably. “And, sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t want you. ‘Cause I do.”

“But we can’t see each other. ‘Cause you’ll just leave again,” you nodded, hugging yourself protectively.

Dean nodded, his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I left like I did.”

“I’m sorry I called you,” you told him.

He shook his head, eyes still fixed to the floor. “Don’t be.” Tears began to cloud your vision, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “What are you still doing here, Dean?”

He didn’t respond for a moment. When he finally spoke, your breath caught in your throat. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. Through the rest of the night, the two of you apologized and made up and apologized again with deep kisses, your bodies connecting, and words murmured through shuddering breaths.

***

To your surprise, Dean was still in your bed the next morning with his arms wrapped around you. As much as you were angry at him for a little over two months, the night you shared and words you exchanged had you forgiving him easily.

He hummed, alerting you that he was awake, before promptly pulling you closer to him and burying his face in your neck. You giggled as Dean’s breath tickled your neck, and he peppered kisses against your skin.

“Mornin’,” his deep voice rumbled against you.

“Mm, morning,” you replied, a smile stretching across your face. You bit your lip, and you tugged at Dean’s hair while he sucked a dark mark onto your collar bone. “I better be able to cover that up with my work uniform, or I swear to god, asshole—”

“It’ll be fine,” Dean replied, kissing your collarbone. “You got work today?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “New job.”

“Oh, wow! Good for you,” he told you, picking his face up from your neck.

“Eh, just another gig to make ends meet. Bar this time, though.”

“And the other one you work at’s a—”

“Restaurant—”

“—restaurant, right.”

You smiled at the fact that he remembered. “I’m working, like, fifty hours a week, now. But I gotta keep my lights on, y’know?”

“Jesus, that’s a lot,” Dean grimaced.

“What about you? You never told me what you do for work,” you told him.

“I don’t,” he replied quickly.

“Oh, god. Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joked.

Dean chuckled. “My dad’s settin’ me up to take over the family business since Sammy’s off to be a lawyer, or whatever.”

“Family business?” you prompted, hoping he’d explain a little bit more.

“Yeah,” he responded. You could tell he was dodging your question, but you wouldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to. “For now, I’m just road-trippin’. Makin’ the most of my youth.”

“Well, I don’t know that hangin’ out with a girl like me is ‘making the most of your youth’,” you joked.

“What?” he replied. “You’re awesome, what are you talking about?”

You shrugged, getting out of your bed. Dean’s eyes followed you as you moved around your room trying to get yourself ready for the work day ahead. “I mean, I ain’t got much. Two bucks to my name, a useless ass college degree, fifty-thousand dollars in debt, and two siblings with a long list of accolades that make me look like literal sewer trash in comparison.”

Dean nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, I’m pretty much in the same boat.”

You turned to him while you brushed your hair, struck by his words. “Yeah,” you nodded. “I guess you are.” A smile began to tug at your lips. “Makes me feel a little better knowing I’m not the only disappointment to their bloodline out there.”

Dean laughed. “Amen to that.” He then noticed the bottle of beer you’d pulled from the fridge across the small studio apartment from his position on the bed. “Whoa. Little early for that, isn’t it?”

You shrugged, “It’s five o’clock somewhere, I guess,” and took a large swig.

***

That day at work had been okay, and you were exhausted when you got back to your apartment. Dean was coming over, but you told him ahead of time that there would be no sex happening since you needed to get up early the next day. He’d given a petulant yet funny response but seemed eager to get over to you.

And that was how your routine continued for a few days. He would come over after you got off work, you’d have sex, rinse, and repeat. Then, after a particularly rough day, Dean found you indulging in the binge drinking habit you’d adopted.

He burst through the door to your apartment concerned only to find you watching the television with a beer in your hand. “Holy shit, (Y/N), why the fuck didn’t you answer?” Dean then seemed to notice the several empty bottles on your coffee table.

“I just didn’t wanna talk tonight, Dean, take the fucking hint,” you grumbled before finishing off the bottle in your hands.

“Okay, you’re cut off,” he told you, trying to help you up from the couch.

You jerked your arm away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Dean seemed angry, but his expression melted into something else. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

You scoffed. “Why do you care?” The words came out slurred. “You’re not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Dammit, (Y/N), that shouldn’t matter,” Dean insisted. “You know this isn’t good for you, right?”

A laugh escaped you. “You said the same thing about you, and you’re still here, aren’t you?”

That caught Dean off-guard, and he was silent, for once.

“Just go away, Dean,” you said quietly.

And he did.

***

The next day, you were horrified by your actions. You called Dean once; no answer. The second time you called, there was still no answer, but you left a voicemail. “Dean? Dean, I’m so sorry. I— I remember what I said to you last night. God, that was fucking horrible of me. Please come back. I’m so sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later, please?” You hung up, running a hand through your hair.

You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment and pulled out another beer. Your tolerance had certainly increased since you started binge drinking, and a bottle in the morning had become the equivalent to a cup of coffee.

Against your better judgment, you called out of work. You needed the money from both shifts you were scheduled for today, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in.

Finally, Dean called back.

“Dean!” you squeaked as soon as you answered the phone. “God, I’m so sorry—”

“I know you are,” he told you. The silence between you was thick; neither of you completely sure what to say. “How long you been actin’ like Lebowski?”

That actually made you laugh despite the perhaps tone-deaf nature of the joke. “Meh, I’ve always liked to drink.” You considered your next words carefully. “It, uh, it started after you left.”

Silence encapsulated the two of you again.

“I’m so sorry,” was all Dean could say to you.

“No, no no!” you said. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a fucking mess, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, but if I would’ve picked up the fucking phone—”

“Dean,” you asserted. “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed heavily. “I’ll be over later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You took the day to try and get yourself together a bit. By the time Dean arrived, the apartment was sparkling, the empty beer bottles were picked up, and your hair and face had been washed.

Dean smirked lopsidedly when he noticed the work you’d been doing. “Good for you, sweetheart.”

***

That night, it was taking both you and Dean much longer than usual to fall asleep.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked him quietly.

“I’m not a good person, (Y/N),” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” you asked, putting your hand on the side of his face. However, he wouldn’t turn it up to look at you. “How could you say that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said.

“Dean, we already talked about this—”

“No,” he cut you off. “I meant last night.”

“Oh,” you replied, stomach flipping.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” Dean reiterated. “I just— I got so angry. ‘Cause you’re right. I’m not good for you. And it’s selfish of me to keep you on the hook like this.”

You felt your heart cracking in your chest. “Dean, I have no idea what we are or what we’ve been doing, but…”

“I know,” he said. “I care about you a lot, too.”

“But we’re not good for each other,” you admitted quietly. “I can’t— I can’t be what you deserve.” You swallowed harshly, tears brimming your eyes. “I’ve got too much shit going on. I can’t—”

Dean cut you off again. “I know,” he said, seeming like he was crying, too. “And I’m gonna have to keep leaving. And I don’t wanna leave. I don’t— I don’t know how to be alone.” Dean’s admission broke your heart, and you grabbed his hand. “I can’t give you a relationship. There’s just— There’s no room in my life for that.”

Your lip was trembling, but you tried your best to force your next words out. “It’s okay,” you said, even though it definitely didn’t feel okay.

“I don’t wanna just keep having sex while you’re in the state you’re in,” Dean continued. “That’s not fair to you.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He snorted, caught off-guard. “What?”

“Thank you. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have been able to tell you to go,” you said. “You were right.”

“I know you, (Y/N). I see too much of myself in you,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

A long moment passed between the two of you, the only noise coming from the window unit in your apartment.

“I’ll be gone when you wake up,” Dean told you, holding you against him.

As much as your heart was breaking, you stayed resting against Dean’s chest, the rising and falling of it soothing you to sleep.

When the sunlight streamed through the curtains and hit your eyes, you realized Dean followed through with his promise.

***

Four years went by. The first one had dragged as you healed yourself from your addiction and the loss of Dean. Admittedly, you’d tried several times to get in contact with him, but the number had been disconnected. The next year, you began to feel happy again. You’d gotten a steady job, had tons of alcohol-free fun with your friends, and generally had a more positive outlook on life.

That third year, though, your life would change forever. The world of monsters, spirits, and demons was unveiled to you when your sister was found dead. The police arrested her husband since your mother had told them the couple had been having problems in the months leading up to her death, but you knew your brother-in-law wouldn’t do that. Everyone insisted you were just in denial, but your gut told you there was something else going on.

The way she died raised red flags for you, too. It almost looked like she’d been mauled by an animal, and some of her organs were missing. Her husband was a relatively stable person; no way was he capable of something like that. And if he was, where were her organs? Why would he have left her on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood? Why did he call the cops himself? Nothing was adding up in your mind.

As any person desperate for answers would, you turned to a psychic. She introduced you to the idea that your sister had died being attacked by a werewolf. At first, you laughed, insisting she was crazy. When all the evidence was presented to you, though, it was the only explanation that made sense.

From that moment forward, you trained and researched relentlessly to try your hand at hunting. You knew that going it alone would be dangerous, but there wasn’t exactly anyone else in your life you could talk to about what you knew.

The day after you met with the medium, you abandoned your apartment, cell phone, laptop, and car, and hit the road.

A year into your new life of motel rooms and gas station dinners between ghost hunts, your job brought you to Wisconsin where a college athlete drowned in a lake outside her home. You’d already interviewed the girl’s father and brother as well as the local police chief that morning. Around one o’clock, you were starving and headed out of your room to get some lunch.

When you rounded the corner of the building to head to your car parked in the front lot, you slammed into a wall of solid muscle. The man grunted, as did you.

“Oh my god, I’m so—” you cut yourself off when you realized who you were looking at.

“(Y/N)?” he breathed out.

“Hi, Dean.”

Forever taglist is open! :)

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader angst #dean winchester angst #dean angst #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #fic request

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6ix9inewiturmom · 6 months

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Crying on your birthday

Summary: You’ve been best friends with the triplets since you were born and your boyfriend of 2 years broke up with you on your birthday and chris confesses his love to you in an interesting way;)

Warnings: Smut!! P in V, Dom!Chris, Sub!reader, choking, hair pulling, use of Y/N, unprotected sex (wrap ur snickers), Oral (fem reviving), fingering, cursing, alcohol consumption, cream pie, cursing, lowkey possessive chris?, (lemme know if i forget anything)

A/N: not requested but i had this idea cookin in my head for a WHILE!! this is a long one so be prepared!!

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i’ve known the triplets since i was born. our moms were best friends since they were 9, Marylou and My mom went to college together and even had me at the same time Marylou was pregnant with the boys. i’ve thought nothing more then the triplets as my brothers, but chris… Christopher owen.. that boy has his ways with me about ever since we hit puberty together and learned we didn’t have the same body parts, now we never showed each other we liked each other so i never knew he liked me back. marylou always told me she’d seen me with either matt or chris. once matt started dating i KNEW i was never his type.. not in the slightest. nick and i were always just besties, once he came out it made more sense why he never attempted to “flirt” with me, so we were strictly just best friends or siblings. but chris? oh no he was a huge player, he treated me like a sibling but there was something about the way he “joked” with me i knew it was something more, but none of us ever talked about it so i ignored it, and just assumed that’s his way of joking. i’ve been dating my boyfriend, Cooper, for 2 years now, things were amazing, the triplets and their parents, were super supportive of me and him considering how we were raised as siblings. my mom liked him but i knew she never loved him.

today was my 21st birthday, i was actually about to have my ‘first drink’. at least to my parents knowledge. the boys and i would always sneak alcohol behind mine and their parents back all the time from the ages of 15-19, that was till they got themselves a house in boston, and i got an apartment close by in boston as well.

i spent about an hour and a half getting ready. i wore a black tight dress with little pink bows connecting to my middle breast, pushing my breast up and against each other making them look nice. with the dress i put on some thigh high leather boots with a slight heel on them.

cooper had finally texted me saying he was at my apartment to drive us to my venue i had booked for about 300 people. i knew my 21st had to be huge. i walk

down my stairs of the building leading to coopers car, but as i’m walking to him i’m expecting his usual flirty compliments such as, ‘hey sexy u come here often’, ‘can’t wait to rip that off you tonight’, ‘gimme a twirl lemme see that ass’, but strangely, it’s like i was a ghost to him, i ignore it thinking he just had a bad day at work or something.

“Hey coop! you ready” i say getting in the car closing the door smiling.

“hm? oh yeah i’m ready” he shoots me a fake smile before flipping his phone over face down and under his thigh slowly backing out to drive to the venue.

he’s never done that before? why did he hide his phone like that? why under his leg? i wonder so many things in my head but im not gonna let it get in the way of my birthday.. not happening, been waiting on this day for YEARS, today was about me!

the drive was silent and lifeless, never in the 2 years we’ve been together had our drives ever been less then filled with laughter and jokes, or blasting music and singing along to our shared playlist together. i plug my phone up to the aux cord and start playing our shared playlist thinking maybe i could lighten the mood but that doesn’t work. hes distant and it’s irking me, but again i brush it off cause its my birthday of all days.

i text chris a simple text telling him i was close to the venue hoping he’d be there and not take his princess ass his sweet time. as we pulled up to the venue i’m all smiles and giggles and as im walking towards cooper to hold his hand as im walking into the place he drops my hand, ive officially had enough of this i stop in my tracks.

“nu uh what the fuck is ur issue, first u hide ur phone, next ur completely silent, and now u drop my hand?” i slightly yell trying not to cause a ruckus infront of the venue

“just not feeling the party mood Y/N” he says almost uninterested in my feelings

“cooper marshall?? not in a party mood?? i don’t believe it.. not for a second, u literally have ‘party monster’ tatted on your thigh.. you NEVER turn down a pary, specially for your GIRLFRIEND of 2 YEARS, might i mention” i yell pretty sternly at this point not caring who hears

“yeah Y/N i’m not in a party mood, it’s not that hard to believe.. plus ur too clingy sometimes expecally when you can’t take a hint when someone’s upset you’re still fucking attached to me at the hip, i’m not always feeling you” again uninterested in how i feel

“Cooper what the fuck? i’m too ‘clingy’ where is this coming from?” using air quotes to emphasize my words.

cooper rolls his eyes “Y/N you’re causing a scene at your party you so desperately wanted to have, let’s just go” he attempts to grab my hand to drag me inside.

i drop his hand “no, your not just gonna ignore whatever issue you have with me, ESPECIALLY on my fucking birthday cooper”

again he rolls his eyes “i’m not doing this Y/N”

my eyes widen “doing what exactly? the party? me? what?”

he sighs before running his fingers through his hair “everything Y/N.. just leave me alone, don’t text me, don’t call me, just don’t worry about me and have fun at your pitty party”

my jaw dropped, if my jaw could break, my jaw would be in hell for how low my jaw hung. “your seriously breaking up with me?”

he presses his lips together and nods “yeah i guess i am i would say im sorry but im not.. bye sav-“ he stops abruptly before trying to fix his mistake of calling me the wrong name “bye Y/N”

tears start forming in my eyes “you were cheating on me? now ur breaking up with me on my fucking birthday? i truly thought better of you..”

he turns around “it’s not like you probably aren’t fucking chris behind my back anyway, it’s only fair” he shrugs

tears streaming down my face trying to comprehend what he just said.

“fuck off cooper” i storm inside the venue and as i walk in im greeted by the three same face people i grew up with.

“i uh- we uh-“ matt starts

“yeah we- you see” chris try’s to save matt

“oh my god you guys are fucking idiots.. Y/N we saw the whole thing.. what they’re trying to say is we’re sorry” nick finishes his brothers sentences and brings me into a tight bear hug.

i sniffle into nick as matt and chris both hug me, i pull away softly.

“i-it’s okay.. let’s just party, there’s 300 people here for me, i’m 21, finally we’re all 21 together, let’s just party and get drunk” i say promoting a half assed smile

“love ur attitude Y/N but let’s actually have a good time! also you look wayy too hot to be crying on your fucking birthday” nick says with his positive energy he always promotes

“you do look good sassy” chris says with his infamous smirk.

‘Sassy’ a nickname chris gave me when we were 8 and i was starting to get into my personality being sassy and not taking bull shit from anyone.

“thank you bubbles” i say with a smile. bubbles was a nickname i gave to him when we were 5 cause he was the bubbliest boy of the three.

about an hour went by, i lost count of how many drinks i consumed that night, on average id say about 8-10, i was the drunkest here, my words were slurring, i was full on shakin ass on the air, and my vision was blurred.

“oh chrisssy pooh” i slurred as chris came up behind me helping me walk around.

he chuckles “hey sassy, you’re a little

too drunk”

“whattt” i act shocked in my drunken state “nu uh, am not”

maybe these were my drunken thoughts but his smile could lighten up hell, the way his cheeks puffed up as he smiled, the way his blue eyes sparkle.

“mhm sure, why don’t we get you in the van and take you home and call it quits hm?” nick follows chris and holds my arms up to try and attempt to hold me i lean towards chris almost falling down as he caught me like one of those corny romantic movies.

i glaze into his eyes “you’re so pretty Christopher”

he laughs and picks me up and carrys me bridal style “oh yeah you’re done for love”

i nuzzle into his neck as nick, matt, chris and i walk to the van smiling like a kid in the candy store.

i randomly start busting out into drunken laughter as chris attempts to buckle me in “you wanna know something funny? cooper told me that i was fucking chris behind his back? pft he’s like my brother”

chris laughs and closes the door on the passenger back seat as nick takes the front passenger side and runs to the driver back seat to sit next to me.

“CHRISSY” i say a little louder

“i’m here sassy” he places my head on his lap and starts playing with my hair like he used to when we were kids.

i look up at him as his blue eyes glisten against the moonlight shining into the car window as matt drives to the triplets house “your so sweet to me.. can you braid my hair”

he looks down at me and smiles “yes i can” he takes my head and turns it to the side and starts french braiding my hair like i taught him years ago.

i softly hum before drifting off to sleep until i was woken up to chris carrying me to his bedroom and i groan as he sits me down on his bed “mm chris-“ before i could even warn him im running to the bathroom and puking up every ounce of alcohol in me.

“Y/N??” he says barging in the bathroom immediately holding my hair back to help me and rubbing my back softly saying ‘it’s okay sassy’ ‘i’m here’

i finally stop puking and am just leaning my back onto chris’ chest as he runs his fingers in my hair “you feelin any better”

i softly smile “i’m pretty much sobered up now”

“you ready to get into bed? you can wear some of my clothes and stuff since you weren’t prepared for anything tonight given the circumstances of your recent breakup- oh my god im sorry i shouldn’t have mentioned that im so-“

i cut him off “chris it’s fine, i promise, if anything im already over it… i know i shouldn’t be but i pretty much am” i smile turning my body to face him now

he returns the smile at me “good, let’s get you up and changed” he helps me up off the cold bathroom tiled floor as he guides me to his bedroom and lays out a pair of ‘Fresh Love’ sweatpants and one of his ‘Lyrical Lemonade’ T-shirts for me.

“here you go sass, i’ll be outside the door just let me in when your changed, you can throw your clothes in that hamper over there and i’ll wash em in the morning” he states before attempting to walk out of the door

“Wait chris” i stop “please don’t leave, it ain’t like we used to bathe together” i continue adding a small smile to my face

“okay.. but i’m turning around” he chuckled using his pointed finger to point at me

i smile at him “okay okay..” he turns around and i take my shoes off putting them to the side carefully and taking my dress off leaving me in my bra and underwear which was a matching orange set with little to no coverage on either my breast or ass, i was gonna suprise cooper with tonight but since coopers no longer in the picture it’s just another set in my collection. i throw on chris’ clothes which were a little too big on me but alas they were comfy.

“okay goober you can turn around now” i laugh and he slowly turns around and walks his way to me grabbing my hand and spinning me around like some disney moving looking at me up and down.

“my my my, i thought you looked beautiful in that dress but my clothes looks 10x better on you” he chuckles

i’m a giggling mess “oh stop it chris, you’re just fuckin with me”

he shoots me a smirk “eh maybe i am, maybe im not..” his voice trails off almost nervously

chris? nervous? never, i’ve warned his clothes thousands of times and never once has he showered me with affection the most id normally get is ‘i better see that hoodie back in my closet’ jokingly of course.

but alas a blush creeps on my cheeks giving away i liked his compliment, i can’t deny ive always had a thing for chris, i USED to only look at him as my ‘brother who’s not actually my brother but is my brother’ but that was before i knew what boys actually were. chris and i had/have never hooked up before, granted we were each others first kiss because we entered middle school together and Marylou gave them a talk about girls that somehow interested chris and he wanted to ‘get some practice’ as he says. but we were 11, we never kissed again cause we thought it was awkward, that was until i had my first date and didn’t know how to make out, chris, the player of course, was the one i ran to to teach me. cooper knew how close we all were, i told him i’ve only ever kissed chris twice but it meant nothing, it’s not like we hooked up before.

“ma?” chris attempted to get my attention but i was LOST in my thoughts about wanting to kiss chris’ soft lips again… was it wrong to want that?

“hm? oh yeah sorry i was uh just thinking” i laughed my nervousness away

“about what?” he said walking over to his bed, i followed sitting next to him

“nosey.. but mostly just us as kids.. i still think it’s funny cooper thought we hooked up, but it brought me to the memories when we were 11 and had our first kiss” i giggled softly

“OH I REMEMBER THAT ONE” he exclaimed “we were in my bedroom at the old house and” before his attempt at telling the rest of the story i joined in

“we didn’t talk for 3 days because we thought it was weird” we said in unison

we both laugh but slowly we just start looking at each other in a not so friendly way.. more of a romantic way, now i know i just broke up with my boyfriend of 2 years and the last thing i should be doing is looking at chris wanting his nice plump limps on mine.

before i knew it chris’ lips were attached to mine but i didn’t hesitate once, i immediately kissed him back but what was weird is that he pulled away… i thought i would have pulled away.

“i-im sorry i shouldn’t have done that” chris attempts to apologize

“no you should have… i know im recently single but… i want you to kiss me again…” i attempt to make him feel better the thought of his lips on mine and everywhere else on my body just came flooding down and creating a sense of heat in between my legs

chris leans in using his hand to caress my cheek before pressing his lips on mine this time in a more passionate manner, but with a hint of sexual desire in his lips, he wanted this just as much as i did, maybe more.

i softly moan into his lips as his hand travels down to my hips and up and down my upper thigh before slowly pulling away

“is this okay…?” he looks nervously down at his hand on my thigh

i nodded but that wasn’t enough for chris

“i need to hear you say it ma, tell me if i can do this” he looks at me deeply in my eyes.

“yes chris, this is perfect” i smile

“god i’ve been waiting for this my entire life” he kisses me again while using his hand to move into the waistband of his sweatpants i had on and taking off the pants laying me down on my back and pulling away from the kiss to admire the orange set of underwear i had on.

“such a whore for wearing such slutty underwear like this like you’re asking to be fucked…” he growled placing himself in between my legs and pulling my underwear to the side and admiring the glistening from my wetness coated on my pussy almost drooling and using his finger to collect my wetness on his finger.

“fuck you’re dripping…” his finger was drenched in my arousal he took his finger in his mouth to have a taste and his eyes lit up with desire and hunger for me “cooper would be shitting himself… i bet you’ve never been this wet for him eh? only for me?” he states cockily

“mhm” i smiled and nodded before adjusting myself to take off his shirt i had on showing him the rest of the matching set i had on, both being in his favorite color and little to no coverage for my hard nipples.

that’s all it took and his mouth was attached to my clit placing open mouth kisses on it eating me like his life depends on it, eating me like a gun was placed to his head for his last meal.

a loud moan escaped through my lips as my jaw when open “chris!” i yelped “fuck you’re too damn good at- at this” i state with a shakey breath.

he moaned against my pussy sending a vibration through my body feeling his smirk against me, he lifts up to speak “i bet ur sorry excuse for an ex couldn’t treat this pussy like it deserves” he smirks

“shut up christopher and use that mouth for good use” he didn’t look to happy

“i didn’t say you could speak back to me” he lightly slaps my clit, causing my hips

to jerk forward and a soft whimper let out my lips.

“oh? you like that?” he slaps it again and another whimper softly comes out me

he dips his head down in my legs again adding a finger and curling upwards to hit my spot just right and my toes began to curl and my back arching off the bed and moans leaking from my mouth, he adds another finger curling both upwards with ease.

“oh- oh chris!” i hum softly “d-don’t s-stop please s-s-so close” my legs tremble lightly

“don’t plan on it ma” he muttered against me occasionally looking up at me supporting myself with my elbows dug into the mattress, head thrown back, with my nails twisting the sheets between my fingertips

“fuck chris i’m ab to cum” i moan out

“do it, be a good girl and cum all over my fingers” he spits moving his body upward to watch me come undone on his fingers his eyes piercing in me keeping his fingers curling up at a constant speed

“mpft- FUCK” i cursed a constant string of ‘fucks’ and ‘chris’ as my legs tremble even more and i came absolutely all over his fingers as he slowly pulls them out with a huge grin and licking my cum up on his fingers

“mmm fuck you taste amazing.. i’ve waited a long time to taste you and i’d have to say it’s the best thing that’s touched my tongue” he grins

i roll my eyes playfully trying to come down from my high “now let me suck tour dick or you fuck me into tomorrow, ur choice” i smirk

he hums softly “now i’d love to watch you suck me off but tonight is all about you sassy, so we’ll save your mouth for another night” he shoots me a wink

“there’s gonna be another night?” i ask smiling and cocking my head to the side.

“i hope you didn’t think this was a one time thing.. im gonna need your pussy in my mouth every night” he smiles pulling his pants down and his boxers down in one swift motion and taking his shirt off leaving him bare… my jaw dropped, his dick is huge… thick and LONG… the sweatpants don’t do him any justice.

he obviously catches me staring “you like what your looking at sass?”

i nod HARD… it’s so much bigger then coopers…

“good” he smirks leaning over me and pressing a passionate kiss on my lips before lining his dick up with my entrance and sliding in with ease inch by inch, i pull away moaning as he bottoms out and starts thrusting his hips at a steady pace to begin with

“oh my god, you’re so fucking tight.. and wet… fuckk” he leans his head back beginning to thrust into me a little faster

“mpfh- h-harder chris” i moan out

his hips immediately went harder hitting my spot every time again. he grabs my neck softly choking me as i’m a bigger moaning mess then i was on his fingers.

“i bet cooper could never fuck you like this… he wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like yours” chris whispers almost growling in my ear while pounding into me causing the bed to repeatedly hit the wall

“oh chris” i groan out arching my back

“i can fuck you better then that sorry peice of shit… mmm” he groans in my ear

a loud pornographic moan escapes my lips as his tip kisses my cervix over and over again leaving my legs shaking violently beneath him.

he flips me over so my back is arched and my ass is in the air, he begins thrusting in me at a domestic pace as if he can’t control himself with me anymore he’s groaning to the point it’s almost a whimper as my ass repeatedly clapping on his pelvic bone.

“Fuckkk chris… i can feel you in my fucking throat… you’re so deep” i moan out

Smack

he lets a HARD smack on my ass before grabbing a wad of my hair and lifting me up to whisper in my ear

“you’re such a dirty whore” he says nibbling at my neck leaving dark circles on my neck “you’re mine now… no one else’s” he grunts “mine to mark” thrust “mine to fuck” thrust “mine to destroy” he lets go of my hair and pressing my head into the mattress “mine” thrust “mine” thrust “mine” my moans turns into whimpering as i become overstimulated

“c-close” i choke out, i could barely form a coherent sentence.

“mmf- me too ma… just keep taking me like a good girl you are” he groans throwing his head back, maintaining his constant hard and rough thrusts.

my legs now fully numb and shaking violently, “c-cumming” i whimper out as im releasing all over his dick leaving a white ring of cum on the base of his dick.

his thrust became sloppy as he paints my walls with his ropes of cum and slowly pulls out trying not to hurt me he rubs my lower back as i turn over and lay on my back.

“hang on ma, lemme go get a towel to clean you up” he exists the room and i hear nick from downstairs cheering

“YESSSS FINALLY YALL HOOKED UP!!! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! but next time be quiet or wait till we’re not here yall freaks!” nick yells causing a smile to appear on my lips as chris walks in with a warm rag to start carefully wiping my legs and carefully rubbing my pussy off trying not to hurt me.

“happy birthday sassy” he smiles at me as we’re now laying down next to each other bare, skin to skin.

“thank you bubbles” i smile over at him.

“where does this leave us Y/N?” his smile drops into a nervous expression

“let’s just cuddle and we’ll talk about in the morning okay? i’m too tired” i smile at him reassuringly

he kisses my forehead bringing me closer to his chest “thank you” he whispered

“mhm” i mumbled falling fast asleep with the real man of my heart next to me.

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IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS ONE??? it’s a long one but i had fun writing it! ALSO ILY GUYS!!! lemme know how yall enjoyed this one!!

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets

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marishoodie7 · 1 year

Text

illicit affairs

Dom!Ethan Landry x F!Reader

Content: 18+, smut, unprotected!p in v, cheating, cursing

Ethan drives y/n home from her boyfriend, Chad’s football game. The tension between them was not going ignored in the backseat of his car.

“Get in the backseat.” Ethan said seriously, as you stared in disbelief back at him. He was always just your boyfriend’s hot friend to you. He was driving you home after seeing Chad’s football game and you thought a little flirting wouldn’t do any harm, but now, it seemed the flirting was causing something.

“What?” You questioned, still in disbelief.

“Y/n, did you not hear me slut? Get in the fucking back now.” He commanded, and you got out of the passenger seat to crawl into the back of his car. Ethan exited his side with a slam of the car door. He flung the door across from you open and slid into the space next to you. He leaned in and your lips smashed together. He lightly pushed you onto your back as he crawled on top. You could feel a bludge poking out from his jeans, fighting to get loose. You broke contact and he frantically unzipped his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles, then slipping them down his legs. He flipped you both over so that your head was between his legs.

You could see the outline of a large, hardening dick. You licked your lips and hesitantly reached out to pull his boxers down.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, it didn’t feel right to cheat on Chad.

“Fuck yeah, aren’t you the whore that wanted this anyway?” He spat out at you, and you looked up at him, then slid his boxers down. His dick sprung out, it was bigger than you thought. Without thinking about what would happen next you swallowed his length. Ethan gasped and grabbed a fist of your hair, which he pulled lightly as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft.

You trailed your tongue along the veins of his cock before licking his tip. He twitched in your mouth, then he grabbed your hair and pulled your mouth off of his dick.

“Don’t make me cum yet.” He grumbled, his voice laced with lust and his eyes dark. He flipped you over yet again, and as soon as he was on top he pulled your underwear down and pushed your skirt up. He wasted no time in pushing his dick inside of you and thrusting lightly.

“Fuck Ethan!” You breathed, trailing your hands up from his back to running them through his curls. He picked up the pace to transition into a steady, fast paced, thrust. The sounds of your heavy breaths and moans filled the car.

“You little slut. I bet you love it when Chad fucks you like this, how does it feel? Don’t I fuck you better than him?” He whined in your ear, his hips were hitting yours.

“Yes Ethan, god!” You moaned as he hit your g-spot. His strokes became more sloppy and desperate.

“Shit. I’m gonna cum soon, I’m gonna fill you up you fucking whore.” He cursed, and thrusted once in your g spot before you came undone under him. You came on Ethan’s dick but he wasn’t ready to stop. Your cries and the sound of his thrusts was only making him even more eager.

“I know you were flirting with me, you wanted me even though you were with Chad. Now I’m gonna make you mine.” Ethan said before slowing his movements and clenching his eyes shut. He let out one more cry before releasing himself in you. You felt yourself become filled with a hot feeling, and even when he pulling his thick, glistening cock out of you, you didn’t feel empty.

#Ethan Landry #scream #screan vi #Ethan Landry x reader #ethan Landry x y/n #ethan landry smut #ethan Landry oneshot #ethan Landry x reader smut #Ethan Landry x y/n smut #Jack champion #ethan landry fluff #Ethan Landry x you #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry imagine #Ghostface #ethan Landry x reader imagine #ethan Landry x y/n imagine #Chad Meeks #Ethan Landry x fem!reader

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jstarr86 · 10 months

Text

SORRY SO SHORT

CHAPTER3

NAT POV

2 MONTHS LATER

Oh god oh my god. I sat crying looking around my dorm, what the fuck was I supposed to do. I just had the worst news ever. College was done with me and my scholarship was being retracted effective immediately. Least what they said and what coach and some staff wanted. I had 60 days to figure out school. I walked down the hall to my best friends room. We had managed and pleaded every year to be in the coed dorms and as close as possible and this year got placed in a apartment and somehow together. He was sitting in his room Galina in his arms as they kissed and I felt bad for interrupting.

“Sorry, um I’ll just come back later.”

“Snickers, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing just ignore me have fun.”

“Natasha.” Joe said as I stopped, he got up coming to me and gently lifting my head. “You don’t cry, you broke your arm when we were 8 jumping out of trees and didn’t cry.”

“Um I have to leave, my I lost my scholarship.”

“How your on the deans list, what! Snickers what happened they can’t just-“

“I’m pregnant.” He shut up but his eyes widened and then his jaw slacked back open as he looked down at my stomach.

“You- what?”

“I’m pregnant Joe, I can’t play so they want to pull it.”

“That’s illegal they can’t pull it.”

“I can’t play-“

“So there’s a rule they can’t do that and besides you have amazing grades they can’t just drop you.”

“What do I do?”

“How, we ain’t been home since break-“

“Asshole I’m almost 8 weeks. Josh knocked me up on break.”

“When the hell did you guys even find-“

“Don’t worry we did, a lot.”

“Does he know?”

“No not yet hell I just found out.”

“So I know first?”

“Well duh I don’t know who else to talk to your my best friend and I can’t tell Josh.”

“Why not, wait your keeping it right?”

“Yes Joe you know I am. But I can’t just call him and be like oh yeah I’m pregnant.”

“Why not.”

“Oh my god.” Galina said as she hit him in the arm. “That’s not something to say over the phone. How would you feel if that was me and I said it over a phone call?”

“I mean what else can she really do.”

“You guys said he’s not far right? Drive there.”

“Actually that is a good idea beautiful. Snickers?”

“What do I say, I - we didn’t plan on this Joe we’re still kids, hell we are at different schools in different states, he, he wants to be in the NFL I- I’m gonna ruin his life.” I said starting to cry again at the thought of hurting him in any way

“Snickers uce loves you. You’re not ruining his life or yours and yeah we are young and this wasn’t planned but we got this, our families got us ok.” Joe got me calmed down holding my hair as I puked from nerves and being worked up as Galina went and got crackers and sprite from the cafeteria in our building. We then got in the car as Joe drove us four hours to Livingston. Getting there we found out Josh was in practice so we went and waited. I easily spotted him and smiled watching him. As practice ended he ended up seeing us and jogged up dabbing up his cousin before hugging me and pressing a kiss to my lips ignoring his teammates.

“Damn she thick.”

“Yeah and she’s mine.” Josh growled as I rubbed his arm. He was definitely a hot head and wore his heart on his sleeve. He didn’t compartmentalize his emotions like Joe or Jon. “What’s up Ma everything ok? Everything good back home uce?”

“Yeah but you and Snickers need to talk uce.”

“What’s up?” He asked looking at me.

“Go change baby.”

“You sure.” I nodded as he kissed me jogging off. I sat bouncing my leg nervously. Only stopping when my best friend placed a gentle hand on my knee.

“Calm down before you get sick again.”

“I’m scared Joe. I’m scared teddy bear.” He sighed hugging me

“It’s gonna be ok, I promise.”

“Aye what’s up.” Josh walked up quickly getting worried “what’s wrong baby why you upset.”

“We’ll let y’all talk.” Joe took Linas hand as they walked off the bleachers and started walking.

“Baby girl what’s up?”

“We gotta talk.”

“You breakin up with me? Find someone else?”

“No, no nothing like that, it’s worse.”

“You cheat?”

“No did you?”

“No.” He saw me nervous as he looked at me “Snickers talk to me.”

“I’m pregnant Josh”

“What? You for real?” I looked at him like he was crazy, like for real I ain’t drive hours for a joke “how? When you due?”

“Yes I’m for real I ain’t drive here for some bullshit I’m almost 8 weeks and it happened while we was on break and you couldn’t put your dick up.”

“Aye you wasn’t complaining when you was calling me daddy and telling me not to stop.”

“Joshua!” I couldn’t help but laugh as I pushed his shoulder. Grateful he’d made me laugh always making me feel better. I sat next to him as he put an arm around me “I’m sorry I’m ruining everything, you’re life.”

“You not ruining anything, timing may suck but not like I ain’t thought about kids wit you you know ima marry you one day.”

“You really mean that?”

“Hell yeah I mean it the fuck. So we havin a baby.”

“Yeah.”

“What about school? Your parents kno?”

“Well I obviously can’t play anymore but I wanna finish and no just Joe and Galina and us.”

“Ok so we need tell our parents but we got this, I don’t know what we fixin to do about school we in different states and Jon just bounced he wasn’t doing good and dropped. How we raise a baby apart, I don’t wanna miss nothin.”

“We got one more year we can do it. It won’t be but a few months between when I have the baby and us graduating.”

“You right but shit I’m still missin a lot what about appointments and all that and labor what happens when you have this kid?”

“Josh it’s four hours we I’m already freaking enough we gotta stay positive.”

“You right, you right.”

After spending the night in Alabama we headed back to Georgia and Josh very reluctantly letting me go but kissing my stomach. He’d spend the whole night his hand on my stomach. After I got back to school I doubled down so I could graduate early. Josh and I would tell our parents next weekend we were taking a few days and driving home. Joe of course came with me. We told Josh’s parents first and they both were shocked but excited. Jon excited and hugging us happy he was gonna be an uncle and Uncle Eki was happy everyone hugging us. We then drove to my parents house where it definitely wasn’t received the same, my parents weren’t happy and thought I was ruining my life and Josh’s and my father was especially upset about it. He looked at me and set Josh off with his words when he said I should have an abortion that we didn’t need children and essentially said if I decided to keep this child I was out of the family I would be disowned and cut off, My mom didn’t fully agree and thought that was a bit too far but didn’t say anything so I stood up went to my room packing what I could of clothes personal items and pictures I cherished and my favorite stuffed animal I’d had since I was a baby and with Josh’s help put it in his car since my dad said I couldn’t take my car since he’d paid for it and it was in his name. Josh went to his mom and dad house and put my stuff in his room and when his parents asked he said I got kicked out my family said get rid of it or don’t come home or call because I was making a mistake so my stuff was gonna be in his and Jon’s old room til we got a place after school. He then the next day drove me back to school. I was only there 3 months before I left getting my credits all early and went back to Florida using some saved money for a crappy apartment and getting a job at a furniture company that Joes older sister Vanessa owned.

#main event jey uso #wwe jey uso #the usos #wwe #jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #jey uso x reader #roman reigns

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czenzo · 2 years

Text

Seven Years - Chapter III

[ao3] chapter links: [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ]

summary: Charlie swung the door open, and his world promptly came crashing down around him. It had been seven years since Charlie last saw Nick Nelson, but he had barely changed – aside from the extra inch or so of height, the beard, and the fact he’d put on a bit of weight and muscle. Charlie’s brain couldn’t process it quickly enough, and so he simply stood, slack-jawed, waiting for Nick to say something.

Seven years after they broke up, Nick suddenly shows up at Charlie’s door, changing the course of their adult lives.

words: 1754 rating: M

note: heads up that there are some brief mentions of alcohol throughout this chapter!

“What the fuck, Charlie?”

“I know.”

“I can’t– I’m so– what?” Tao threw his hands in the air. “Are you sure you didn’t just hallucinate it all?”

“Positive.” Charlie paused. “I think. His number’s saved in my phone now. Feels real to me.”

Tao leaned back against the countertop; his legs were so long he may as well have been sitting on it. (He'd had quite the growth spurt right at the end of Year 11, and didn't shut up about it for a solid two years afterwards). It hadn’t been that long since Charlie had last been in Tao and Elle’s flat, but the kitchen looked a lot different from the last time. Livelier. More homely. It was clear Elle had been hard at work decorating. She was out with friends that evening, which made it the prime night for Charlie and Tao to have a movie night, but they’d become ever so slightly sidetracked when Charlie let it slip about the Nick Situation mere minutes after coming through the front door.

“Hold on,” Tao said, turning to swing the fridge open. “I know what would make this conversation more bearable.” From it, he produced two glass bottles containing his favourite beer – Charlie himself wasn’t particularly fond of the taste of it, but he liked how warm and fuzzy it made him feel. Tao smacked the bottle tops against the side of the counter to crack them open and handed one over to Charlie, who took a swig and tried his best to ignore the screaming of his tastebuds.

“Okay, so let me recap,” Tao began, making alarmingly direct eye contact. “Nick hit your car–”

“Lightly dented it, really. I barely noticed.”

“Sorry, lightly dented it, and decided to apologise in person because he’s just Like That–”

“It was the polite thing to do.”

“…but he obviously didn’t realise it was yours so then you were both caught completely off guard when you answered the door and saw each other–”

Tao stopped talking, Charlie frowned at the silence. “Why’d you stop?”

“Thought you were going to cut me off and elaborate on something again. Anyway, he was about to walk away and your lives were going to go back to normal but then you invited him in–”

“Well I wasn’t just gonna let him leave, that would’ve been weird–”

“That’s the exact kind of interruption I was talking about,” Tao sniffed, “and no it wouldn’t. You invited him in! And chatted! And got all buddy-buddy with the man who ripped your heart out and stomped on it repeatedly, and then exchanged numbers–”

“He still had mine,” Charlie said, much quieter than his other interruptions. Tao swiftly ignored it.

“–and agreed to meet up some other time! You’re insane, Charlie Spring.”

“Look,” Charlie sighed, “you said it yourself. I was caught off guard, and he genuinely seemed sincere. And I’m not even thinking about our old relationship, it’s just–”

“Just what?”

Charlie stared at his beer as he swirled it around in the bottle, unable to look Tao in the eye. “We were really good friends before everything. And now we’re older, and a bit wiser, I just– I think we have a good shot at getting some of that old friendship back, y’know? You can’t blame me for wanting that.”

“No, I can’t.” Tao sighed and took a moment to gracefully down half of his beer in one go. “I just care a lot about you, Charlie. I remember the mess you were after he left, and how long it took for you to properly recover. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”

“It won’t come to that,” Charlie said gently, smiling at Tao’s openness. Elle had really softened him over the years. “I was seventeen and inexperienced back then, but now I’m better at handling things. I know more about myself. And I’m sure Nick does too.”

“Come here.” Tao opened his arms wide, and Charlie slotted himself in between them, holding his friend so tight he could feel Tao’s heartbeat. He closed his eyes, breathed in the familiar scent, and felt the gentle rumblings of Tao’s voice as he spoke. “I’m still not over his stupid reasoning for breaking up with you, though.”

“Yeah, it was a bit shitty.”

“More than a bit. Breaking up because you’re going off to uni is such a cop-out excuse. People do long-distance all the time – hell, me and Elle did it while we were off getting our degrees. We survived. Nick had no reason to think he was above it.”

“I think he was just scared,” Charlie replied quietly. “Worried he’d hold me back, or something.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mm. Anyway,” Charlie pulled away and clinked their bottles together. “Enough about all of that. We have some films to watch.”

Tao’s eyes lit up at the mere mention of it. “I’m going to open your eyes to some of the finest films released this year, Charlie Spring. You may as well thank me right now.”

Charlie rolled his eyes so ostentatiously it almost hurt. “We’ll see about that.”

❃

Just one film later, Charlie was already struggling. It had been some amateur indie film that had more symbolism and metaphors than solid plot, and no amount of m&ms or popcorn could help him wrap his brain around it. At the very least, it had looked pretty cool. ‘Aesthetically pleasing’, as Tao would say. If he squinted he enjoyed watching the blurry, vibrant shapes dash across the screen.

It was safe to say the film hadn’t been up his alley at all, but Tao enjoyed it, and Charlie enjoyed spending time with Tao, so it all worked out.

“That beer went right through me,” Tao said as the credits rolled. “I’ll be right back, and then we’ll move on to the next one. Prepare yourself.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Charlie said through a fistful of popcorn. He was more than content to read through the names as they moved up the screen, noting all of his favourites and the ones he’d never heard of before. It was an activity that kept his brain quiet – and one that distracted him from the burning urge to send Nick a text.

It would look too needy, too desperate, to send him a text so soon after seeing him, right?

Or was Nick expecting him to text? If Charlie didn’t say something first, would they ever meet again as planned before Nick returned home?

Charlie took a deep breath in. Exhaled long and slow. And opened his phone.

Nick’s lone Hey stared at him from the screen, and Charlie’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

Slowly, he typed out a simple hello.

And deleted it straight after.

He was just finishing typing out a longer sentence when the front door to the flat opened, and in walked Elle.

Like Tao, Elle hadn’t changed much from her secondary school years, but now carried more maturity on her shoulders. Her outfits were also now consistently fashionable – being an adult meant having a job, which meant having more money, and when she wasn’t buying new decor for her flat or going out with friends, she was buying clothes, or the materials to make them.

And damn, if she didn’t look good.

As soon as she walked in Charlie instinctively jumped up to embrace her in a tight hug; she smelled flowery and vaguely fruity, and from the way she gently swayed in his arms, he suspected she’d had a cocktail or two.

“Charlie,” she said as she pulled away, a beaming smile on her face. “It’s so lovely to see you.”

“You too, Elle. You look really good.”

“Thank you! Do you like the boots? I decorated them myself.”

She was on her second attempt at lifting up a foot to show Charlie without falling when Tao returned, and although Charlie adored his friends to the moon and back, he’d be lying if he said the feeling of third wheeling didn’t sting. Tao and Elle hugged and kissed their hellos and Charlie left them to have their quick catch-up, returning to the sofa and retrieving his phone from where it landed between the cushions. His phone screen was still on, and he stared at Nick’s message some more.

Only now, there was another message underneath it.

On the right-hand side.

A full sentence, sent just two minutes ago.

Charlie felt his heart plummet to the ground. It must have somehow been sent when he dropped his phone to greet Elle but – how? What were the chances of that? Was the world truly so against him?

“Fuck,” he hissed, catching the attention of the two lovebirds nearby.

“Everything okay?” Elle asked softly.

“Don’t even get him started,” Tao replied, before going into an explanation-slash-rant on the situation. As Tao went on wildly in the background, Charlie read the two messages over, and over, and over.

[Nick Nelson] Hey

[Me] do you still want to meet again before you go

❃

Charlie spent the rest of the evening lying on the sofa, head resting in Elle’s lap and feet wedged under Tao’s thighs. They’d draped a blanket over him and pressed play on the next film Tao had lined up, but not before turning off Charlie’s phone and placing it far out of his reach.

“What if he’s texted me back?” he murmured during a lull in the film.

“He can wait,” Elle replied, combing through Charlie’s hair with her fingers. Her acrylics gently scratched his scalp, and it was almost enough to send him completely to sleep.

“He will wait,” Tao added. Charlie tried to kick him playfully, but Tao firmly held his feet down under his weight. “Shh, you’re missing the plot.”

“What plot?”

“Don’t blaspheme.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in this either Charlie, it’s okay.”

“This is why I love you, Elle.”

“Love you too.”

“Let me check my phone?”

“I love you too much to do that.”

“I will kick you both out if you don’t zip it,” Tao said, though his attempts to be malicious were betrayed by the affectionate gleam in his gaze as he looked at them both.

Charlie let his eyes drift shut.

Nick could wait.

Nick would wait.

For now, he was with his friends; he was comfortable, he was happy, and he was content.

He’d enjoy the evening (and the awful films) in peace.

And he wouldn’t think about Nick or his potential replies at all.

Not one bit.

Not. One. Bit.

#heartstopper #heartstopper fic #charlie spring #tao xu #elle argent #narlie #czenzo.fic #Seven Years

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 3 years

Text

Wrong Name

Pairing: Shane Walsh x Reader

Summary: One slip up leads to the truth being brought to light.

Warning: brief mention of sex, mixed emotions, mention of castration, Shane being the asshole that he is.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

NOTE: I don't even know if I'll continue writing for TWD, this was just an idea I had circling my mind.

MASTERLIST

----

"Shane!"

I was close to my much needed climax, my devishly handsome husband kept thrusting upwards into me, his hands gripping onto my hips. He nibbled and sucked on my neck as we fucked in the driver's seat of the hyundai tuscon.

"Fuck Lori"

And just like that, whatever I was feeling disappeared. Wordlessly I got off of his lap and got back into the passenger's seat, rushing to pull my underwear and jeans back up my legs.

"Darling, what's wrong?" still in his blissful state Shane called out, reaching over the console to touch me but I shoved his hand away.

"Don't touch me!"

I can't believe my own husband called me Lori, for God's sake he called out my best friend's name instead of mine. My chest hurt the longer I thought about it.

"Y/N?" scoffing I looked out the window as he tucked himself back into his pants. I can't believe it, he slept with her, SHE slept with HIM!

"You sure it's not Lori?" bitterness dripped off of my tongue as I held my gaze forward, refusing to look at the cheating bastard next to me.

"Fuck, fuck! I am so sorry darling, you have to believe me." he reached to touch me again but this time I slapped him, the tears running down my cheeks. I need to be far away from him right now, I can't even stand to look at him or hear his sorry ass voice for much longer.

The drive back to the farm took far too long for my liking, he didn't try to touch me again nor attempted to continue apologizing knowing that it made no sense in trying to do so. As soon as the car came to a stop I was out of the vehicle, popping the trunk open to retrieve the supplies we went out on a run for.

The last person that I wanted anything to do with ran over to help unload the car with her son trailing not too far behind. She greeted me and instead of acknowledging her I grabbed the bag of medical supplies and stormed off towards the house.

"Here you go Mr. Greene I managed to pick up some more bandages, meds and other medical supplies that you might need." the elderly man thanked me coming over to overhaul the bag on the table.

"Y/N?" rolling my eyes I excused myself before I exited through the side door, bumping into someone.

"Whoa, take it easy!" Rick caught me before I could hit the deck, the bright smile plastered on his face faded once he saw my tear stained cheek and bloodshot eyes.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"Y/N!" Shane stepped out on the porch and I broke free from Rick's hold on me taking off in the direction of Dale's RV. I could hear Rick raising his voice at Shane as he put two and two together.

Shane had done something to upset me and he wanted nothing more than to smack his friend upside the head.

"Aunt Y/N, everything okay?" Carl called out to me from where he was seated beneath a tree. Coming to a stop I joined him, unlike his mother he hadn't done anything wrong to me and he was still my favourite human being in this hell hole.

"I'm doing just fine little man, what about you, how's the side feeling?" I tipped his hat forward blocking his eyes and he laughed, adjusting it before answering me.

"I'm doing much better, Hershel said that I'll remain with a scar though and that's cool with me." he was so happy about the thought of having a battle scar of his own.

"Hey, I've been looking all over for you."

Jesus Christ

"Well Lori, you've found me." she smiled down at her boy, asking him to give us some time to talk alone. He gave me a hug before walking off towards his father and Shane.

She started talking about what she thinks we, the women, are supposed to be doing around the farm to help out the Greene's while we're here and she even pitched the idea of us making them dinner tomorrow night.

While she kept running her mouth all I kept thinking about is how badly I wanted to smash her head in with the rock next to me, hers and Shane's.

"How could you?" falling silent she just looked at me, confused as to what I was talking about.

"How could you do this to me, to Rick, to Carl?" my eyes blurred from the tears that threatened to fall, Lori's eyes grew three times its size, realization finally setting in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't me-"

"Yeah but it happened anyway, while your husband and I were fighting to survive you two just what? Said hey, they're dead, let's start screwing." Pushing myself back onto my feet she grabbed onto my arm

"Let me go Lori." reluctantly she did as told, fear written all over her face as she gauged my reaction. Shane's eyes were trained on me as he looked over Rick's shoulder.

Rick

"I take it he doesn't know either."

"No and you're not going to tell him."

That man adores her, when he finds out that she slept with his partner he's going to be devestated.

"Y/N, I mean it, you can't tell him, please." rolling my eyes I walked off on her, I can't deal with this, with them.

"Hey Maggie can I take one of your horse on a ride around the property, I need to clear my head." she nodded and I wasted no time in heading for the stables.

"Y/N wait up!" his voice only gave me motivation to get further away from him. Shane caught up to me at the entrance of the stables, his large hand secured around my upper arm.

"Don't touch me you lying, cheating bastard!" he jacked me up against the wall, taking all the slaps and scratches that came his way, refusing to let me go.

"No, I'm not letting you go. Not until you listen to me."

"Screw you! While Rick and I were fighting to survive out there you were all shaked up with his wife. My husband slept with my best friend who happens to be his partner's wife." he winced as if my words were physical blows to his body. Shane hated himself for putting me in this position.

"Did you even bother to look for me, for us?" That was what hurt the most, the thought that he just took Lori and Carl on his way out of town, leaving Rick and myself behind.

"There was a herd on the floor of the hospital you were stationed on, I checked and it was far too many so I automatically assumed the worse and went to Rick's room to see if he would wake up to haul ass but he never did. As much as I didn't want to leave either of you behind I had to, Rick wasn’t able to get to Lori and Carl so I got them out of town.” Shane loosened his grip on me and I stayed put. He ran his hand through his hair, tears running down his face. He could cry me a river for all I fucking care at this point, I couldn’t care less.

“Darlin’ I’m sorry, I should’ve come back for you and I shouldn’t have slept with her but I can’t change what happened. I love you so muc-”

“Don’t, if you loved me you would have mourned me, not sleep with my best friend. Did you even fall for me at all or was I just part of your way to get closer to her without your buddy getting in the way?”

“No, I fell in love with you because of the woman that you are. I never looked at her that way before that night, we were both scared, hurt, lonely and it just happened. As soon as it was over I left her alone, I felt like shit for doing that, I still do.”

“Good, both of you should be ashamed of yourselves.” I moved to remove the wedding band on my finger but he stopped me

“Please, don’t. We’re here, in this thing together that’s all that matters. Please darlin’ don’t take that ring off. I fucked up but I promise you it only happened that night and I never looked at her again afterwards.” he was down on his knees crying, begging for me to rethink my decision. He held onto my hips, burying his face into my stomach.

At this very moment I wanted to knee him in the face out of anger but a part of me believed that he was sincere about his affair. Would that be considered an affair if you sleep with someone else while your significant other was presumed dead? I don’t even know.

Would I be able to forgive him for this? One day probably, in order to survive the end of the world. Sighing, I carded my fingers through his hair to calm him down, I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s never broken down this way over anything before and that is supposed to mean something.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I shushed him, holding him closer.

“Now’s not the time for this, we have bigger problems to face around us. I’m forgiving you but trust me, I won’t forget.” he broke free from my hold, standing up on his feet

“I’m not asking you to forget what I did, I’m asking you to stay with me. We’ve lost so much in such a short time, I can’t afford to lose my wife.”

“You should've thought about that in the beginning, we’re not going to be the same.”

“I’d rather have part of you than none of you at all.”

“Okay.” he wrapped me up in his arms, kissing away at my temple and I held on to him.

As angry as I am with him at this moment, I could lose him at any given moment and that terrifies me. Shane and I have been married for seven years and during each one he has been nothing but a good man to me.

We’ll get past this.

“Shane.”

“Darlin?"

“If you ever call me Lori again in bed, I’ll cut your dick off and shove it down your throat.”

#shane walsh imagine #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #jon bernthal imagine #jon bernthal x reader

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ijustloveharry · 2 years

Text

REGULAR REBOUNDS / 2.1k words / fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're breaking up with me?" I asked, eyes wide.

Carlos and I had only been together for a couple months, so this was nothing too heartbreaking, but it was definitely unexpected.

"Yeah I just don't feel like we are really clicking, you know?"

No, I don't know.

"Sure. See you around" I rolled my eyes, exiting his car. Who takes a girl on a date and breaks up with her when dropping her off?

I pulled my phone out, scrolling to a contact that hasn't been clicked in awhile.

"Hey" he answered on the first ring

"Hey, you busy?"

"Nope. You and Carl broke up?"

"Carlos - yeah. Ugh, I'll explain more when I get there. You aren't seeing anyone?"

"Nah. Figured it was only time til this ended and I didn't want to leave you hanging." He mocked

"Whatever. I'll be there in 5".

I hung up and drove the couple blocks to Harry's apartment.

Harry was not boyfriend material. The first time we slept together was at a party in my first year, and he made it very clear that he did not date and that wouldn't change. Luckily, I told him I had no interest in dating him either.

Alas, a beautiful friendship was formed. A very hot, sexual friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.

I sent Harry a quick 'here' text before heading up the steps to his house.

"Hey." Harry winked as I sat down on the couch next to him.

"Hey Y/N, sorry to hear about you and Carlos." Niall smiled from the other sofa.

I shrugged, taking Harry's beer from his hand and finishing it off.

"Wasn't that serious anyway" I replied.

"At least you'll be around more" Niall smirked knowingly

"For now" I said, caving from Harry's pout and getting us each a beer from the fridge.

"Liz and Marty are gonna be over in a bit, and I think Ryder was also gonna stop by."

"Itll be nice to see them all." I smiled, handing Harry his beer.

"Yeah well, ya disappear every time you get a boyfriend"

"Conflict of interest to hang with my fuckbuddy and his friends when I start seeing someone. I'd love to stay friends, but I think Harry gets custody of you guys whenever we have to separate."

Niall laughed, feeling his pockets. "Ah, fuck. I'll be back."

He left the room, leaving Harry and I alone in the living room.

"Hi-" I was interrupted by Harry pressing his lips to mine, hand snaking onto my waist.

My eyes fluttered shut as he deepens the kiss, taking my beer bottle and placing it to the side. His hand found my bum and he pulled me into his lap, hands reaching into my hair.

"Whoa, get a room. I was gone for two bloody minutes!" Niall laughed, waving a joint.

I turned from straddling Harry's lap to sitting with my legs draped across, accepting the joint from Niall.

"Thought you didn't smoke?" Harry raised his eyebrows

"Carlos got me into it, surprisingly." I smiled, holding it out for him.

Harry leaned in, taking a hit from my fingers instead of grabbing it himself.

"I'll have to thank him for showing you how to have a little fun"

"Thank him for wasting my time" I mumbled, taking another hit before passing it back to Niall.

"Is that Y/N?"

Ryder's voice could be heard from the living room.

"Hey Ry" I smiled, standing to give him a hug "how have you been?"

"Not bad. I'm happy you're back with Harry! I've missed you."

"We're not together" Harry clarified, pulling me back down onto his lap. "Just fucking"

"Oh whatever. It's quite confusing from an outside view, yeah?"

"Marty and Liz are coming too, grab a beer and siddown bud" Niall said, pulling Ryder onto the couch next to him

"What about Carter?" I asked, noticing someone was missing

"He moved to LA" Harry mumbled "that's why Niall and I are roomies now"

"Whoa. Ive missed a lot." I laughed "Harry will have to fill me in later"

"We will be very busy later" Harry whispered, nipping at my ear

"Oi! I know you lot have been apart for however long but I don't need to keep seeing it" Niall said

"Sorry mate, but if you don't stay elsewhere tonight you're gonna have to hear it too"

"Harry!" I slapped his arm, chuckling at his warning

"You can stay with me" Ryder offered, feigning disgust

"We were gonna go to that karaoke pub off campus later if you wanna come with." Harry said, rubbing my leg

"Sure." I smiled, finishing the last of my beer. "What time were you guys thinking?"

"Whenever Marty gets here, I guess" Niall answered, passing the joint around again

"What's that?" Marty asked, poking his head in the room "I heard my name"

"Y/N!" Liz said, rushing over to give me a hug. "It's been forever"

"Yeah sorry I haven't been around much"

"Are you coming out with us?" Marty asked, hanging his coat

"She is, and we are leaving right now so you should probably put that back on" Harry said, standing to give Liz a hug.

"We have so much catching up to do" Liz said, taking my hand and leading me to walk with her.

"Ask away" I laughed, Liz and I leading the way to the bar.

"What happened with Carlos?"

"He took me on a super romantic date and then told me we 'didn't click' while dropping me off"

"Ouch"

"I mean yeah, getting dumped doesn't feel great" I shrugged "but we weren't together for that long."

"3 months is a decent amount of time" Liz reasoned "it's okay to be bummed"

I shrugged, not sure what to respond.

"Maybe now you and Harry can declare your love for one another" Liz wiggled her eyebrows and lit up a joint

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the joint from her hand "No"

"I didn't know you smoked"

"I'm a changed girl" I grinned

"Changed enough to commit to Harry?"

"Shut up" I laughed, nudging her off the sidewalk "We're just friends"

"Friends who have super passionate sex"

"What makes you qualified to define our sex as passionate?" I raised my eyebrows

Liz shrugs "lucky guess"

"What about you and Marty?"

"What about us?"

"I dunno. How are things?" I asked

"Complicated." Liz answered honestly

"Good complicated or bad complicated?"

"Complicated complicated"

I rolled my eyes and glanced back at the boys, seeing them yards behind us.

"I can't wait to do some shots and sing some karaoke" Liz cheered

"It's been so long since I've been" I smiled, seeing the bar up ahead

"Oh I guess hey? Well, if you're lucky I'll sing a duet with you"

"How romantic"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Two shots of tequila please" I ordered, grinning at Harry

"Ugh, tequila is disgusting"

"I drink to get wasted, not to enjoy the taste" I rolled my eyes, downing both shots

"Hey!"

"You complained, so you didn't get one" I shrugged, walking away from the bar and leaving him to pay

"Y/N! You should sing" Niall called from a little further ahead

"Im definitely not drunk enough yet" I laughed, pointing at the stage "You should go up there"

"Tell ya what, let's go do some shots and sing something together"

"Done deal" I grinned, heading back in the direction I came

"I'll never be able to convince Harry to sing, so at least someone wants to do it with me"

"Actually, he went up a couple weeks ago" Niall said, ordering a round of shots

I raised my eyebrows, glancing around for his curly hair

"Here you go" Niall handed me 3 shot glasses

"Cheers" I squinted, examining the clear liquid

"It's revolting. Get it over with as fast as possible"

I shot back all three, gagging on the last one.

"There you are" Harry said, finding his way to us "You owe me $14"

"You owe me an explanation" I replied, crossing my arms

"I'm gonna go pick a song" I gave Niall a thumbs up as he walked back to the stage

"What's up?" Harry asked, hand finding my waist

"I hear you sung some karaoke when I wasn't even here" I fake pouted "I think this hurts even more than my breakup 3 hours ago"

"Sorry about the breakup" Harry winced "and the karaoke was a huge mistake and never going to happen again"

"Nuh-uh. I can't believe you'd finally do it when I wasn't here!"

"I was trying to impress a girl" Harry mumbled "and it didn't even work. Please drop it"

I raised my eyebrows "So you're not trying to impress me?"

"I don't need to impress you, I can be myself around you. Plus, you'll sleep with me regardless"

"Why do you have to be an asshole when you're being endearing?"

"Just being myself" He grinned, slapping my ass as I left to go sing karaoke

*****

"You were really hot up on stage" Harry mumbled holding my hand as we walked back to his and Niall's house.

"Thanks" I laughed, lighting the joint Niall handed me on our way out of the bar

"I cant believe your BOYFRIEND convinced you to get stoned and I couldn't" Harry pouted, puffing the joint

"Ex-boyfriend, and I couldn't get you to do karaoke so I think we're even." I giggled.

The shots we took post-karaoke were still very much affecting Harry and I both, easily noticed by the way we were zigzagging around the sidewalk.

"Can you believe I let the girl PICK the song and she still didn't leave with me" Harry grumbled "fuckin tease"

"I'd never do that to you" I pouted, stopping to steady myself on his arm. "I feel a little silly"

"You are silly" Harry chuckled, "come on."

Harry squatted down so I could hop on his back

"Weeeee!"

"Oi! Stop kicking your legs or you're gonna knock us both over"

"Sorry" I giggled, holding the joint to his mouth

"So you wanna talk about Carlos?"

"What about him?"

"Are you actually okay? I know that rebounding is kind of our thing, but it happened today so it's okay if you just wanna talk about it"

I hiccuped, trying really hard to focus on his words. Harry must be much less drunk than me to coherently say all those words.

"We were together for like one second and we didn't even sleep together" I confessed, likely due to the liquor

"What?" Harry stopped, turning his head to look at me. "No wonder he broke up with you. How come?"

I shrugged, taking a puff of the joint "might be the liquor talking, but it's never as good as it is with you"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was honestly pretty relieved when he broke up with me. I wasn't expecting it, and I didn't plan to break up with him, but I dunno. I was excited when I realized that meant I got to call you and finally get laid"

"Can I tell you a secret? And this might also be the liquor talking."

"Wha?"

"I called the last girl I hooked up with Y/N. While I was cumming. Yikes"

"Whoa, what?" I said, blaming the butterflies on the alcohol

"Yeah, I was even hanging out with her for awhile and thought it might go somewhere. Then when we finally slept together, I couldn't stop thinking about you the whole time"

Harry stopped, letting go of my legs so they hit the ground. I moaned in protest, leaning on his arm

"I think I'm too drunk to have sex" Harry mumbled

"That's too bad, I was really banking on you doing most of the work"

Harry laughed, finishing off the joint and tossing it in a nearby garbage

"I hate to be like, needy, but can we just go lay in bed and cuddle?" Harry asked sheepishly

"Yes please. This weed is making me extra relaxed"

The rest of the walk to Harry's was short and uneventful. He offered me his jacket and then hung it up when we got inside.

"Hey Y/N?"

"Hm?" I asked, cuddling into him further. The feeling of his body heat and the duvet were consuming in my current state.

"Don't go away this time, yeah?"

"I'm not going anywhere, H. This bed is so comfortable"

"No" he chuckled, pressing a kiss to my forehead "let's just see where this can go"

I sat up, eyeing him curiously

"Harry Edward Styles, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?*

"I hate labels, and I definitely wouldn't want to ask you when I'm this drunk. But you're one of my favourite people, yeah? So... Just stick around for a bit"

"Plus - the killer sex" I mumbled, nuzzling back into his chest

"Plus the killer sex" Harry agreed

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #fanfiction

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megantheebaddest · 2 years

Text

The One That Got Away

Part 2 Part 3

***WARNINGS Language, Smoking, Slight yelling

A.N- This turned into a little recap of your high school years with Jack being your best friend. I also did not intend for this to be that long… I couldn’t stop I’m sorry 🤣 This is my first writing i hope you enjoy this!

You had met Jack on the first day of Freshman year. You were a new out of state student at Atherton High. Jackman was the one and only person to talk to you that day. From that moment it was history. You and Jack were like two peas in a pod, you two had so much in common.

Y/n’s POV

“You the new girl?” a tall boy nodded his head my direction.

I was sitting on a bench in the grand entry way of the school. I was trying to read my schedule. I was so lost and flustered until I saw a tall figure approaching me.

As soon as my eyes met his I was instantly calm. “Is it that easy to tell?” You asked while wiggling your schedule around a little. The boy gave a big cheeky smile. He had the cutest curls I ever seen on a boy. He had glasses with big blue eyes behind them. His eyes were so soft while looking at you. “Do you need help finding your home room? Bell rings in 8 minutes.” “Yes that would be great.” You said while handing over your schedule. “I’m Jack by the way.” You gave him a quick smile while looking right in his eyes. He grabbed your schedule eyes darting right to your name and address.-( S.N i’m not sure if everyone’s address is on their schedules at their schools but mine always was)-

Jack’s POV:

Y/N Y/L/N. “I’m y/n..” she smiled at me.

She was pretty short i really had to look down on her. She had the most silkiest straight brown hair. Perfect complexion. She looked as if she comes from a wealthy family. She had an expensive looking book bag and expensive shoes on. Every piece of clothing is a big name clothing line.

I looked at her address next. “So your the one who moved in next door a couple days ago?” She looked up at me with big eyes and a surprised grin. “What? We’re neighbors?” “I guess so” I said while laughing. “Your locker should be close to mine as well. And look here we have all the same classes towards the end of the day..” It seemed like Y/n was definitely more relaxed then when i first walked up to her.

Being that you guys were so close you did everything together. A lot of things were an accident though. Like when you broke your leg after Jack jumped Clay’s bike ramps in the street. You decided you wanted to be just as cool as him so you did it. But you didn’t. You had all of the motivation in the world and then right at the last second you chickened out and tried to turn enough that you wouldn’t hit the ramp, but you were going entirely too fast and still ended up going over the ramp half assed and losing control of your bike. You flew off and rolled like 10 feet from the ramps. Jack was quick to come lift you and sit you up. You were extremely proud of yourself because you took it like a champ. You surprisingly didn’t cry. Jack had got your mom and she took you to the hospital. The next time Jack had seen you, you had a hot pink cast and you were rocking some crutches. “Do not laugh at me Jackman!” you said waving a crutch in the air. Jack busted out laughing and tried to bring you in for a hug. “Come here dummy” he said laughing loud in your ear. “Who you calling a dummy?” You asked. “the person who broke her leg trying to be cool” Jack had tears in his eyes from laughing. Needless to say, karma caught up to him 2 days later.. I didn’t hear from Jack for the 2 days which was unusual. You were sitting outside reading a book on your front porch. You were so focused on it until you heard a car door. You looked up and noticed it was Jacks mom. You noticed she was helping someone out of the car. It was Jack! On crutches!! “Haaaaa what happened dummy?” you yelled across the bushes that divided your yards. “Shut up y/n!!!” Jack said laughing while going into his house. He had sprained his ankle at soccer practice the day before. You both enjoyed hobbling around on your crutches together. All eyes were on you both anytime you were together because you both looked like goofs with crutches who had no idea how to use them.

When you got your first job at the local grocery store Jack was right there with you as a stock boy. When Jack told you about his interest in rap and music you were so nervous to say that you were also interested in music. You had never sang for anyone before but the first time you really sang in front of Jack, he was shocked and so impressed by your voice! “You are literally an Angel y/n.. I gotta get you on the mic during one of my next sessions” Sure enough he never forgot because the next time he was recording down in his basement he dragged you along. You both were always in his studio together making songs from that point on. You helped him get through some writers block while other times you just thought of other ideas. He absolutely loved your advice and 9 times out of 10 took it.

You were part of the group and all the boys absolutely adored you. You all hung out almost everyday at Jacks. You were always the one recording random ass videos on your snapchat to the point where they were always on your story and it was nothing but pictures and videos of them and you with them in your snapchat memories. They were all so protective of you yet at the same time they all jokingly picked on you any chance they got. You’d always end up getting annoyed and Jack would be the one to tell them to cut it out. The boys would ask you questions about your personal life all the time. They were genuinely just curious because you were new to the state. They were always interested in your stories from back home, which was on the other side of the country. It was definitely a cultural shock moving to Louisville. But with becoming friends with Jack almost immediately made it so easy. You are so extremely grateful for him and his family.

“I’m sure all the guys back at your hometown were sad when you moved.” Clay said. You lifted Clays legs up since he was taking up the whole couch. You sat right were his calves were and you placed his legs back on yours. You pulled out your phone and instantly opened up Instagram. This was your normal routine while chillin in the basement with them. “Actually they probably were excited. I was not a very liked person back home.” It was dead silent after you had said that. You looked up to see 4 sets of eyes on you. “What?” you raised an eyebrow looking at them. “How is that even possible y/n?” Urban asked after taking a hit of a blunt. “Well when you are a girl who is friends with a bunch of fake bitches, drama tends to happen. A lot.” They all nodded in agreement. “I’m glad you got away from them then. They don’t deserve to know you” Clay said smiling at you. You grabbed the blunt from Jack who was passing it to you. Everyone was puff puff passin like usual but when you started to hit the blunt they all focused on what song Jack started playing. You loved when no one was paying attention to you while smoking a blunt. It gave you the opportunity to hit the blunt more then twice in a rotation. You always tried to be sneaky but you’d end up getting busted. The boys would get annoyed with you cause you’d be vibing to the music and hold the blunt too long. Or you’d end up rambling on and on telling stories while they’d all wait for you to pass the blunt. Jack always smiled and laughed at you when he’d catch you hitting it extra or if you’d hold it a ridiculous amount of time. He thought it was cute. But he’d never admit that. Just then Jack looked over at you knowing you’d be vibing to what he was playing. You had your eyes closed while hitting the blunt and you were dancing while sitting on the couch. Jack realized he was the only one looking at you everyone else was distracted by their phone or the music equipment. Jack took this opportunity to just watch you vibe to his music. You opened your eyes and looked right at him. He was smiling ear to ear at you. You realized why. You made a face at him like you had just been busted eating the last cookie out of the cookie jar. You immediately passed the blunt to Clay. Jack giggled to him self and shook his head he turned back to focus back on his work.

Jack’s father built him and Clay a tree house when they were younger. When you met Jack you asked to go up inside of it and see it. “I always wanted a fucking tree house!! This is the cutest thing ever!” You squeaked. You were standing on the latter on your tippy toes with just your head up there. Jack stood down at the bottom with his hands in his pockets. He had the biggest smile while looking up at you while you went crazy over this dumb old tree house of his. “It’s very sturdy. Go up if you want.” He giggled at you because the second he said that you started climbing up so fast. When you got up there you were able to get a better look at everything. It was like a typical boy tree house. There were footballs old nerf guns and air soft guns. Baseball bats and gloves scattered. Old soccer balls and basket balls. All the sporty things you can imagine mixed in with some old tools or old yard decorations. You could tell the boys definitely out grew the tree house and it kinda ended up as a miscellaneous storage area. Jack was standing on the latter in the exact spot you previously were. He didn’t need to stand up on his toes to see you though. He had his arms crossed as they rested on the floor of the tree house. He noticed a bummed out expression on your face. You were looking around and it was obvious you were looking for something specific. “So it looks like the typical boy tree house but I'm kinda pressed i don’t see an old box of play boys..” You said laughing at your own joke. Again something Jack loved about you. “No need to be pressed.. under that old blanket over there.” Jack said not even lifting his head off his arms. “you’re lyingggg” you practically ran over to the old blanket. You lifted the blanket to in fact, reveal a box of at least 50 playboys. Jack climbed up the rest of the latter. “Yeah if i remember correctly there should be an old stash that i forgot about until just now” He grabbed all the magazines moving them to the floor and at the bottom of the box there was a brown paper bag that looked like it was 3 years old. You both cracked up when he opened it and looked in. “Are you sure you weren’t smoking grass? Like legit grass and dirt?” You asked snorting so loud. Jack cracked a big smile and shook his head. He threw the stash back in the box and replaced the old magazines. He threw the blanket back on the box incase his parents would happen to go up there for something. “So you don’t think your parents are capable of moving a blanket? Come on now Jackman.” Jack playfully rolled his eyes as he shushed you. “Yeah i should clean this thing out” “I agree! I know you out grew this but i think this would make for a really great smoke spot” You did an evil little grin while rubbing your hands together. Jack didn’t tell you but he agreed with you.

Once you were in your Sophomore year of high school you and Jack became even closer. You never imagined that you could be that close with someone. Jack had eventually cleaned out the tree house and he had set it up with a new fuzzy carpet (he knows you like that kind because one was in your bedroom) he had also set up some lights around the ceiling of the tree house. He put a little speaker set up and some bean bag chairs up there as well. He also picked up some extra pillows and fuzzy blankets because he knows you are always cold and like to be snuggled up. He had a little stand of all the bongs and bowls they use to smoke and under the stand was the box of magazines. He kept them there more as a joke because let’s face it he’s already looked at them a million times and all the porn he wants is on his phone. He knew you’d find it funny for them to still be up there. For your birthday he surprised you with the tree house being finished. At the time you had no idea he was cleaning it out and fixing it up. He wanted it to be a surprise and you were neighbors so he tried so hard for you to not see him doing it. You were a cheerleader for the school and also played volley ball. So on nights that you had practice he’d be out there for hours working on it. He was so surprised that he pulled it off without you knowing because you are always with him and asking to go somewhere with him. But when he showed you the tree house you were so amazed. It actually made you tear up because he told you that this was the tree house you never had. The tree house ended up being a place where just you and Jack hung out. It originally was the smoke spot for the whole group but the boys all hated having to climb up it all the time. It didn’t bother you and Jack so that’s where you guys chilled. Anytime you were upset or Jack was stressing about his music he’d tell you to meet him in the tree house.

By the end of Junior year you and Jack became even CLOSER then before.. again. But this time it was a different kind of close. One night you were both in the tree house smoking. Usually when you and Jack get high together you end up talking about life and having heart to hearts. It was late at night and you were both laying on the floor of the tree house. All of the lights were off in it but there was natural moon light shining through allowing us to just barley be able to see our dark figures. There is a window on the ceiling of the tree house that we always star gaze through. It could be romantic if you wanted it to be. That night Jack wanted it to be. We were in middle of having a heart to heart about our love lives and discussing old stupid flings.. “I guess that’s why I'm so guarded. I just don’t want to give my all to someone who doesn’t really like me.” you said looking at the stars. Jack was laying right next to you in the same position as you. But you didn’t know Jack had all of his focus on you, not the stars. You were the most beautiful star in his eyes. “Yeah ever since my crazy ex i never want to date again.” Jack said laughing. You laughed letting him know you fully agreed. “I hate her.” You said still laughing thinking about all the crazy shit she did to Jack. She gave you death threats all the time. It was unbelievable. “I think the whole world does” Jack said making you laugh even more. Jack just stayed silent listening to your laugh fill the tree house. He had the biggest smile stuck on his face. He knew exactly what the feeling was. Love. Yes he has always loved you but he knows now for sure that he is IN LOVE with you. “ ‘M freezing J..” Y/n was only in a tank top and shorts. She sat up grabbing her favorite fuzzy blanket up here and a couple pillows. “Here J, lift your head real quick” Jack did as she said. “You always take good care of me lil mama” “well who else is gonna do it J” you said giggling. He always called you names like that and you both always flirted. At first his flirting started as just picking on you with the guys when you first met to now he isn’t even low key with it anymore he just full blown flirts now. You snuggled up to jacks body and rested your head on his chest. This made Jack stiffen up under you. It kind of took him by surprise because you never actually cuddled like this before. The one and only time this happened was when you and Jack stayed up late to watch a movie and you had fell asleep on him. He never forgot about that moment and it lingered in his mind often. Jack finally breathed again after being surprised like that. His first breath in was nothing but your fresh shampoo scent mixed with a hint of your perfume. He pretty much melted right then and there. It was silent for a few minutes when suddenly he felt your hand creep up to rest on his stomach.

Senior year approached faster then expected. You really had enjoyed your summer with the group. A lot of smoking, drinking, and partying. You have so many pictures and videos to prove it. This year of school was much different. During the summer you became way closer to Clay then you were before. Jack seemed to really distance himself from you after the night in the tree house. You were almost certain that it was due to you crossing a line or two. Neither one of you ever brought anything up about it though. During that awkward time Clay would always snapchat you or text you to hang out because he missed you or wanted to smoke with you. You’d always say yes because you could never tell Clay no. You always had a soft spot for him. You had absolutely no idea that Jack was upset and jealous about this, you thought he just didn’t want to be friends with you anymore. Until one day you both snapped.

Jacks POV:

“Where you going bro?” “Me and y/n are going to see the new Spider-Man movie” Clay said like it was no big deal. “So what it’s like a date? You kids have fun” I said sarcastically. “Bro why you mad? You barely even ask her to chill anymore” Clay said as he shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets. “By the way it’s not a ‘date’ ” Clay said using finger quotes. “I’m allowed to be friends with y/n too.” That was the last thing Clay said and then he walked out. To go to the movies, with her. “FUCK” I screamed as loud as I could throwing my fist at the nearest surface.

The reason I distanced myself from y/n is because that night in the tree house I knew I was in too deep with my feelings towards her. It scared me more then anything to tell her. I couldn’t risk ruining the best friendship i ever had. So i thought it would be best to distance myself. What happened was the complete opposite of what I expected. I ruined the friendship anyways by being stupid as fuck and just abandoning her. I knew I had to talk to her tonight when she was done hanging with Clay. I kept checking my watch and decided to peak out my bedroom window. I saw Clay’s car in our driveway so I decided to make my way over to y/n’s. I always went to the back because she always chilled on the back patio. I could see flickering light shining, most likely from her little fire pit back there. As soon as I turned the corner my heart broke into a million and one pieces. From my view Clay had his arm around y/n and she was leaning in towards him. “What the fuck!!?!!” I screamed. They both jumped and looked at me in sync. I couldn’t look at them. I turned around and started to speed walk back to the house. “Shit… Jack wait!” I could hear y/n say. I didn’t care I kept walking. I didn’t realize she was running to catch up to me. By the time I reached my driveway she grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “Stop fucking walking away from me!” She screamed at me. She has never raised her voice towards me before or even talked to me like this before. She was giving me the evilest glare. It broke me. I yanked my arm away from her as hard as I could. “Don’t touch me y/n!” I started to walk away but she came around me and stood in my way. It caused us to bump chests (more like her chest to my stomach) “No. You don’t get to run away from me anymore like this! Why did you do that to me Jack!” she was starting to tear up as she was yelling at me. “Why did you leave me like that Jack.. I didn’t deserve to be treated like shit.” Y/n said dropping her head low to look at the ground. She started sniffling. “I had to figure shit out y/n!! It’s just complicated okay!” I said throwing my hands up in defeat. “What the fuck does that even mean Jack!! You’re just making excuses! That doesn’t give you the right to treat your ‘best friend’ that way!” “So me not hanging out with you gives you the right to kiss my brother!!” “What!!!!? I never in my life kissed Clay!!!?” she said looking up at me. “Then what the fuck was all of that?” “He was comforting me because I have been so upset that you hate me for no reason!! We never kissed, we were talking about you” Y/n said sounding defeated. I felt like the biggest piece of shit. “Y/n I don’t hate you! I could never hate you ever! It’s the complete opposite.” she looked at me confused. “I love you y/n. I love you so fucking much. I’m in love with everything about you. You literally stole my fucking heart. The night in the tree house scared the fuck outta me. I almost told you but I was so scared to ruin our friendship. I handled it wrong anyways and ended up doing just that.” There was so much hesitation in my voice. I have never opened up like this with anyone before. I didn’t know how to feel after admitting this to her. She wasn’t helping this feeling either because she was just standing there staring into my eyes. Her eyes started to dart back and forth to each of my eyes as if she was trying to see an ounce of a lie in them. She grabbed me so hard and held me in a bear hug. I was hesitant to put my arms around her. When I finally did it was like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. “ ‘M so sorry Y/n. I never meant to just drop you like that i was just scared at what I was feeling. I legit panicked.” I said to still rest my case. “Jackman, you’re an idiot if you think I wouldn’t feel the same. I try my hardest to show you that I am in love with you! You just completely miss the hints I guess” Y/n said giggling. “So..” I let go of her. I instantly put my hands in my pockets. “Y/n I’d love to give us a shot. I’d love to have you as mine.”

Graduation day. “Baby! We are gonna be so late for graduation!” Jack said as he entered my bedroom. My parents were already on their way to the high school to get seats. I told them I'd catch a ride with Jack. I was smoking a blunt out my window. I had my hair straight and i wore a natural makeup look. Our graduation robes were a maroon color so i wore a cute little black dress that came right above my mid thigh. I wore black open toe heels as well. “My god. You look absolutely gorgeous Y/n” I offered the blunt to him. He grabbed it and immediately took a couple puffs. “Thank you J” You gave him a wet sloppy kiss and left your lip gloss mark on his cheek. “Girl if we don’t leave right now we are gonna miss the ceremony.” The whole way to the high school you both listened to your favorite music. It was a bittersweet moment. This would be your last time Jack driving you to the school. We were really growing up. He’s the only reason you got through high school. Now you were not even close to ready to face your next chapter. College. You were leaving at the end of summer. You knew Jack really wanted to focus on his music. He was planning to release an album and try to make it big. It scared you like hell knowing he wouldn’t be with you everyday. You both had planned that he would make the drive one weekend and then you’d make the drive back the next weekend. That did not last long unfortunately.

Jack made it big. You were in college. Jack eventually started drifting away slowly, he would barely text or call. Anytime you talked it would pretty much be the same exact conversation. “How’s school? … Making any friends? …. I only got 5 minutes to talk y/n….” were Jacks main points every call. “How’s L.A? … Are you taking care of your self? … I miss you J..” were your main points. It just replayed over and over until it was less calls. Jack had 2 days off and he visited his family the first day and then made the drive to your school. You didn’t know he was off so it surprised you so much to answer your door to Jackman standing there. It felt like déjà vu. He was wearing a similar outfit to the one he wore when you first laid eyes on him. His hair was shorter but those cute curls were still there. He was taller. and no more glasses. He was wearing a grey pullover hoodie with grey baggy sweat pants. Similar white New Balance shoes on his feet. You looked him up and down then reality hit. Jack was standing in front of you. You practically jumped in his arms not saying anything. Jack put his arms around you not saying anything either. You knew something felt off. You knew what was coming and you instantly felt sick. He let go and you already felt empty and lost. “Hi y/n.. I need to talk to you.” Jack wasn’t looking at you. He sat down on your bed, head down the whole time. “Okay.” is all you could get out. “Y/n I love you.” He looked you in the eyes and grabbed your hand. “But I can’t do this with you if i can’t give you my all. You deserve everything in the world. Between our busy opposite schedules I can’t give you that. That kills me. You don’t deserve that. I’ll always love you y/n and i really hope you understand where I'm coming from.” Jack had tears forming in his eyes. You were completely speechless. Your head hung low as you were fiddling with your fingers. “I understand Jack.” you said nodding your head up and down. “I didn’t want to do this but I think it’s best for us y/n. I really do. I know we are meant for each other but I think it’s the wrong time.” You couldn’t believe it. Jack was the one who got away.

#jack harlow x you #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb

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tropes-and-tales · 2 years

Text

In It Together

Characters: Benny “Borracho” Magalon and F!Reader

WC: 11,307

Other Pieces: There’s a fluffy, unofficial sequel here.

CW: HEED THESE WARNINGS. DEAD DOVE AND SUCH. Contains controversial material: frank talk about abortion; dub-con (in the form of mutually drunken hook-ups); angst; smut (oral, f!receiving; PiV, protected). 18+ only. DO NOT READ IF ABORTION UPSETS YOU. IF YOU COME TO MY INBOX TO COMPLAIN, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

AN: This was a very specific request from a dear friend who I met on this hell site of a platform. You know who you are, bebe. 💕

It’s not a position Benny Magalon ever wanted to find himself in: sitting in a café across from you, getting less than ideal news.

You can barely look him in the eye when you say it. You look lower, your eyes fixed somewhere near his chin when you tell him that you’re pregnant.

It’s not ideal at all. Benny knows next to nothing about you—only your first name. It was a drunken hookup, two strangers meeting at a bar a little over a month ago. When you called him yesterday, he hadn’t recognized the number and had let it go straight to voicemail.

When he heard the message you left, he had wracked his brain to remember the details, though they were hazy and soaked in booze: flirting with you at the bar, challenging each other over shots. Getting a car together, getting handsy in the car. Taking you home to his apartment, recently vacated by his now-ex. He only remembers flashes after that—sordid little scenes—and then the awkward morning-after. He had given you his number with the idle thought the he had fun and you might call him, but you hadn’t…. until now.

Now, sober and in the cold light of day, he studies you closer. It wasn’t just the alcohol that night—you are cute, he thinks, even as nervous as you are. Your leg bounces rapid-fire under the table, making it shake, and he can see how tightly you grip your coffee mug.

He knows how it feels. The moment your words sink in, his stomach does a terrific flip, and he worries he might throw up. A million thoughts flood into his head: custody and child support and fuck, he’ll have to tell his family…

He got a one-night stand pregnant. It’s less than ideal.

“I have to ask,” he finally says after he turns the situation over in his head for a moment. “Are you sure it’s mine?”

You wince, then nod. “It’s yours. My ex and I broke up six months ago, and you were the first…” You trail off, and he can see how hard you swallow.

“Sorry.”

You shake your head. “No, it was a fair question.”

“It’s just…I know we were both…” He trails off too, loses his words. “I remember using protection.” That’s one of the flashes he has from that night—reaching into his nightstand, snagging a condom. He remembers it distinctly because he banged his elbow against the headboard, hit the nerve there, had a purpled bruise for days…

“I know. I don’t know what went wrong. I thought I should let you know, since the condom obviously failed. I wanted to let you know. I am getting an STD screening and you should too.”

He nods. He’s touched at your thoughtfulness. You could have never contacted him.

“I’m clean, but I’ll get a test too,” he murmurs.

“Well, I’m clean. I just didn’t know…we’re unknown to each other, really. You have no reason to trust me, so I thought it was best to reach out.” You shake your head as if you’re trying to clear your mind. “I’m sorry.” You drop your head and stare into your coffee cup, and Benny can see the unhappy frown on your face. When he looks closer, he can see that your eyes are slightly swollen, like you had cried before you came to meet him. He feels a wave of something for you. Pity. Sympathy. Something.

“Don’t apologize.” He reaches across the table, lays his hand palm up. He leaves it there, and after a moment, you put your own hand in his. He squeezes you gently, hopes it feels reassuring. It occurs to him that you must be a brave person, to handle this as you are. To have the courage to call him. To sit down with him and deliver this news.

“This is on both of us,” he adds. He squeezes your hand again, and that’s what finally makes you look him in the eyes. You raise your head and study him solemnly, then offer him a tremulous smile.

“Thank you, Ben.”

He releases your hand, and he swipes it against the side of his thigh. His hands are clammy with sweat, he realizes.

“What do you want to do?” he asks.

You drop your eyes again, and you take a deep breath. “I looked at it from every angle, and I just don’t see how I can keep it.” You glance at him, probably to see how your admission lands with him. Benny Magalon has a great poker face, and he only nods at you, encouraging you to continue.

“I mean, I live in a one-bedroom apartment I can barely afford. I have school loans. I just got my dream job two months ago….” You trail off again, and it sparks against Benny’s memory. He had been out that night on the rebound, only recently broken up from his long-time girlfriend. And you…yes, he remembers. You had been out celebrating a new job at the Jet Propulsion Lab. That had been his in with you, teasing you, pretending to argue that the moon landing had been faked.

“I want kids one day, I think,” you continue. “But I can’t make it work now, especially as a single mother.” You glance at him again, a guilty expression on your face. “I was raised by a single mom, Ben. I know how hard it is.”

He nods again. He knows his neutral face isn’t giving him away, but more than anything, he feels relief. A big wave of relief washing over him, calming his churning stomach.

He chooses his next words carefully. He doesn’t want to say a single thing wrong, pressure you one way or the other.

“I’m in this for whatever you choose. If you wanted to keep it, I’d step up however much you want. But if you don’t want to keep it, I support that too.”

“I’m one hundred percent sure.”

-----

The two of you part amicably, and Benny’s head spins with a thousand thoughts. A thousand feelings. He feels guilty at the situation he’s put you in, because his working theory—which proves out, once he gets home—is that the condoms he used were expired. A stupid fucking mistake. His ex had been on the pill, and he hadn’t thought to check the expiration date, and now you are pregnant and facing down your own guilt and angst.

He also feels that relief. He doesn’t know you at all, and you don’t know him. Maybe it could have worked, raising a kid with a stranger, coming up with some manageable co-parenting plan. Maybe it would have been hell, being chained to another person for eighteen years or more. He knows that he’s cynical from his recent breakup—three years gone, and if he couldn’t make that work, how could he launch himself straight into fatherhood with a one-night stand?

It’s not the last he’ll hear from you: you’ve promised to let him know when you make the appointment, and he’s promised to pay for the procedure.

You call him two days later, and it makes him chuckle, the polite way you speak when he answers his phone. The way you say your full name, as if he has multiple women he’s impregnated that he’s currently juggling.

“I have an appointment for next week,” you tell him. “But I have to choose if I want a medical abortion or a surgical.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Well, the medical is cheaper—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t worry about the cost. Pick whichever is better for you.”

There’s a long stretch of silence over the phone—so long that he pulls the phone away to look at the screen, thinking the call dropped. Then he hears it. Quiet sniffling.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks.

Another sniffle, then a watery laugh. “Nothing. It’s just hormones, probably, but you’re being really nice about all of this. I didn’t think you would be.”

He chuckles at your admission. “Why’s that?”

“Well, not you specifically. Just…people in general, you know? People can be disappointing so much that when they aren’t, it’s…surprising.”

Benny knows exactly what you mean. He sees how disappointing people are all the time. In his job, in his personal life. People let you down. It gives him the barest bit of satisfaction that he’s not completely disappointing, at least in this situation.

*****

The plan had been for a friend to drive you to your appointment, but the ride falls through at the last minute. Because you’ve opted for the surgical option, you aren’t allowed to drive yourself….

You grit your teeth and sigh. You swallow down the remaining crumbs of your pride. You call Ben.

The goddamned man doesn’t even let you get the entire sentence out. He cuts you off, asks for your address. Tells you that he’s leaving work immediately.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” you ask. You swallow hard against the lump in your throat. You hate the entire situation: hate that it happened at all, hate that you had to drag this one-night stand into it. You had struggled with the decision to call him, after all. It wasn’t his business, really, but since the condom had obviously failed, it had felt important to let him know.

Though, to be fair, Ben Magalon is proving to be more than a one-night stand. You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he is supportive. More than you ever thought a random cop hookup could be.

He chuckles over the line. “You don’t know my boss. It’s fine.”

Forty minutes later, he’s at your door.

There’s no reason for him to help you. He’s already given you the money for the procedure, so he could easily tell you to deal with it yourself…but he doesn’t. Your goddamned one-night stand, the darkly handsome cop that you never thought you’d have to see again—he turns up just when you need him like some fucking knight in shining armor.

-----

The nice thing about L.A. is that it’s liberal. There’s no one outside of the clinic other than an employee in scrubs taking a smoke break. No raging protestors, no gory placards trying to guilt you into a different decision than the one you’ve already made.

Inside, the people are kind. No nonsense, quick and efficient. But above all kind. Reassuring.

Ben has to stay in the waiting room, and he gives you a nod and a reassuring smile as you’re led back to the restricted area. You glance over your shoulder as the door shuts behind you, and you catch a glimpse of him settling into a chair as he pokes through a pile of magazines.

Not for the first time, but it strikes you how lucky you are in such an unlucky situation. It had felt like the right thing to do, telling him, but you never thought he’d be so supportive. So reassuring, and not a single ounce of friction. He accepted your decision without second-guessing you. He paid for it without you asking. He left work to be your ride.

It made you sad, in a strange way. You had enjoyed your night with him, but even drunk, you had noticed his strange apartment. How pieces of furniture seemed to be missing, how his closet door had been open to reveal one empty side. Early in the evening he had mentioned an ex with a frown, and it was clear then that he’d been rebounding.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t thought to call him afterwards, until you had to. If he hadn’t been so fresh off of a breakup, you might have tried to nurture it into something more. Maybe. Maybe you would have dropped him a flirty text or even called, if you had summoned up the courage.

But it was all maybes. Just theoretical stuff, because this is the reality: him sitting in the waiting room of the women’s clinic, waiting for you. The two of you only together because of a sad accident.

*****

It takes almost no time at all, which surprises Benny. Less than an hour, all told, and then you’re walking out of the clinic with him, a small bag of pain killers and antibiotics clutched in your hand.

“How are you feeling?” he asks once the two of you are back in his truck. He glances over, and maybe part of him is afraid that you’ll be filled with regret. That you’ll burst into tears and tell him that you’ve made a terrible mistake. But the look on your face, if he has to classify it, seems to be relief. The frown on your face, the worried look in your eyes is gone. The relief is almost palpable.

“Honestly? Not nearly as bad as I thought.” You patted the bag of medication in your lap. “They gave me a Valium, and I’m a lightweight.”

Benny bites the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling. You are a lightweight. He knows that much about you. That night, he had beaten you easily in the dumb shots contest the two of you had devised. The thought occurs to him then, and his held-back smile fades into a frown.

He clears his throat as he merges onto the highway. “Hey, that night…” He glances over at you again, sees you looking back at him. “We were pretty fucked up. I didn’t…force anything, did I?”

He can see you shaking your head out of the corner of his eye. “I guess there’s an argument about consent and impairment, but we were both drunk. If you took advantage of me, then I took advantage of you.”

“I guess.”

“I’m good, Ben. No worries.”

-----

At your apartment, he helps you inside. It’s awkward. He’s not exactly a master of social situations, but he’s usually fairly confident. He usually moves through the world with a level of calm competence that translates to assurance. There’s no playbook for this, though, and he stands awkwardly by your door until you wave him in. You walk into your kitchen and he follows a few steps behind, twirling his keys nervously.

You turn away from him, and you take the pill bottles out of the little bag the clinic gave you. He watches as you read the labels, and he hears you mumble to yourself about timing the doses for every twelve hours.

“Is there anything I can get you?” he asks. “Anything I can do?”

“You’ve already done so much. More than you needed to.”

“Told you we were in this together.”

You turn to face him, and he can see the tears that spring to your eyes. He’s struck again at how brave you are. How brave you were to call him in the first place, even if it was probably incredibly difficult. He was a stranger to you, after all. He can easily imagine a different sort of man having a very different reaction.

“I don’t know if you’ll ever know how much this all means, Ben,” you tell him, and your voice is shaky with emotion. “You don’t know me at all, and you’ve been so nice…” Then you start to cry in earnest, though you try to hold it in, great gulping hiccups as you try to rein in your tears.

The guilt hits him again, so he reaches out carefully. Opens his arms for a hug, and after a beat, you step up to him. It’s an awkward hug at first, the two of you stiff and unsure against each other. He holds you lightly, gently. He’s unsure of any pain you’re in, but he rubs your back carefully. Tries to comfort you, and in doing so, tries to alleviate some of his own guilt.

“It was my fault,” he murmurs against your head. “The condoms were expired. If I hadn’t been so fucking stupid, it would have never happened.”

He doesn’t know you, and part of him expects you to react in anger at his admission. You don’t, though. You squeeze him around his middle, and you echo back his own words, that the two of you were in it together.

Somehow, it makes him feel better. He hopes it makes you feel better too.

-----

When he leaves twenty minutes later, Benny thinks it’s the last time he’ll see you. He assumes he’ll never speak to you again. But the guilt still gnaws at him, and two blocks away, he pulls over. He pulls up an app on his phone and orders you some take-out, has it delivered to your apartment.

It’s not nearly enough, but it’s something. It’s another thing he can do for you, because everything else—paying for the procedure, driving you there and back—feels paltry, despite what you say. You’re the one going through it. He’s just the supporting cast.

After he orders the food—he has to guess at what you might like—he pulls up your number.

Ordered you some food, he texts you. You should take the antibiotics with food.

The three little dots appear and disappear as you type and delete and type your reply again. He can picture you tearing up again, and it makes him a little sick, how grateful you are for him. He did next to nothing, and anything he did was the bare minimum, but apparently you have low expectations for people.

I owe you, you finally type back. If you ever have a medical emergency, just call me.

Benny shakes his head. As if you owe him. He writes back, telling you to rest and to let him know if you need anything at all, and he thinks that’ll be the end of it.

-----

It isn’t the end of it, though. Over the next few days, then weeks, Benny can’t get the entire sad event out of his head.

He checks on you, as much as he dares. He had read up on abortions from neutral, science-based sources, but he still has all the stigmas in his head. That you’re in terrible physical pain. That you’re wracked with guilt. That you’re destined for a life of regret and deep depression now.

How are you feeling? He texts you a couple of days afterwards, and you respond after a few moments.

Better! I’m working from home, so I’m resting too.

He waits another week, then asks the same question.

Back to normal, you reply that time. I went for a hike at Griffith Park the other day.

Because he’s LACSD and because he has a burgeoning sense of protectiveness over you, he texts you an entire litany full of safety tips. They had a case in Griffith Park not that long ago, a string of attacks on lone joggers or hikers, and he lets you know all about it. He tells you to only go there with a friend. He sends you a link for jogger’s mace—technically illegal, but better to ask for forgiveness after using it than risk an attack turning worse.

Yes, officer, you text back.

I’m a detective, actually.

Yes, detective, you reply. I promise to be extra careful in my solo midnight runs through Griffith Park with my headphones on.

Smartass, he types back, but he smiles at it anyway.

*****

It becomes a thing. It shouldn’t become a thing: media had led you to believe that the two of you should have never spoken again, the weight of the abortion a heavy, impenetrable wall between you. That if you ever saw him again, that the two of you should have shared a look of mutual sorrow and then gone your separate ways to nurse your unending guilt separately.

Yet here you are. The two of you text back and forth. It starts with his obsessive concern right after the procedure, which warmed your heart. Then it morphed into small talk. Then it turned into little jokes here and there, until you and Benny Magalon are texting each other regularly.

It shouldn’t become a thing, but it does.

It should also be stranger than it feels. If you lay out the situation like one of your work problems, it makes no sense on paper. One-night stand, drunken. Unplanned pregnancy. An abortion. Now the two of you texting, getting to know each other after going through a challenging moment together.

Maybe that’s why, despite it not making sense on paper, it still manages to make sense. Because you went through it together. Because you decided to let him know about the pregnancy. Because he’s just…him. Benny Magalon, you are finding, is a stand-up sort of guy. Supportive to a fault. Not just supporting you with the abortion, but checking on you afterwards. Fussing over your safety. Giving you details about crimes that surely must be embellished to scare you into living in a bubble.

It’s not a love story, but it’s a friendship, if an unlikely one. You smile when you get a message from him, and sometimes when you’re doing something fun, you think of mentioning it to him.

It’s not a love story, but sometimes you wonder how things could have gone differently. Maybe it could have been a love story. Maybe if you’d met him after he had more distance from his break-up. Maybe if the condom hadn’t failed. A million maybes, and it drives you a little crazy to think of them, but exploring every possibility is part of your job so it’s second nature.

-----

It moves from just texting when he calls you one evening.

It’s his phone, but it’s not him on the other end. When you pick up, a deeper voice asks if you know Benny Magalon.

“I do,” you say carefully.

The deeper voice introduces itself as a Detective Connors. He tells you that he is calling from Ben’s phone. There’s been an accident.

“His emergency contact was deleted a few months ago,” Connors tells you. “So we went through his phone and called you.”

You don’t question it, not in that moment. You only hear that Ben—the guy who supported you so selflessly in your hour of need—has been hurt. That he needs you now.

“Tell me where you are, and I’ll get there as soon as I can,” you tell him.

*****

In terms of injuries in the line of police work, getting hit by a car while running a traffic checkpoint is the least glamorous.

Benny never even saw it coming, which is probably what ends up saving his life. If he had seen the car barreling towards him, he would have tensed up, tried to get out of the way. As it is, the car hit him from behind, and his body went limp as a ragdoll. Flew through the air, landed hard on the scrub-grass median.

It’s not nearly as bad as it could have been. It’s not a career-ending incident. When he comes to in the hospital room, the doctor gives him the rundown of his injuries: a broken arm and two cracked ribs. A long, ugly scrape down his side. A concussion. Cuts on his face.

At least they’ve given him the good drugs. Whatever is in the line in his arm, it makes him feel like he’s floating a few inches off of the bed, despite how warm and heavy he feels. Everything feels soft and rounded off: the hospital noise is fuzzy and faraway; the lights are faint and haloed.

He blinks and realizes that he’s nodded off. When he opens his eyes again, the guys are there: Henderson and Z and Connors perched in chairs around the room, Big Nick standing in the doorway, ogling the nurses as they walk past.

“There he is,” Connors says.

“Borracho,” Henderson adds with a smile and a shake of his head. “Nine fucking lives, man. Gotta start calling you el gato instead.”

Connors reaches out, grips Benny’s ankle through the sheets. “You flew through the air like fucking Superman, dude. Thought for sure you were a goner.”

“Wha’ happened?” Benny manages ask, his words slurred, his tongue thick from the drugs in him.

The guys tell him, and even though they joke, Benny can hear the tremor of real fear in their voices. The guys’ relief is unmistakable, even through the haze of morphine.

“We called your girl,” Henderson says, and Benny is too high to really question who he means. His girl. The words roll through his head, and it takes a long beat before he asks, “wha’ girl?”

“The one you’re always texting. Your phone’s screen is cracked, but we were able to pull her number.”

Another long beat to piece together who they mean. His ex used to be his emergency contact, but he removed her months ago. Didn’t bother to replace her. He could have listed his sisters, but they’re terrible in an emergency. His parents moved to Arizona a few years back. There wasn’t really anyone else for him to list in a true emergency.

Henderson must mean you.

The drugs loosen his tongue, and Benny almost spills the entire sad history with you to the guys. Almost says that you’re not his girl, but the drugs also make him tired. He opens his mouth to argue that they shouldn’t have bothered you, but he blinks again and falls asleep.

-----

When he wakes up later, you are there. And maybe it’s the drugs or the brush with death, but damned if he isn’t happy to see you. You are sitting in the chair next to the bed, and you give him a smile when he sees you and focuses on you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

He holds up his good hand and tries to tilt the palm back and forth, the see-saw motion that means, “okay.” Instead, his hand seems to float on its own accord, and your smile widens.

“They got you on the good stuff, huh?”

“Yeah,” he tries to say, but his tongue still feels thick and unwieldy. It comes out yuh, and you reach out to pat his good hand.

He concentrates on his words. “Sorry,” he manages to get out. “Guys shouldn’t a’ called you. Bothered you.”

You frown at him. “Ben, after all we’ve been through? It’s not a bother at all.”

“You got better things t’do.”

You reach out and pat his hand again. “I actually don’t. A very worried detective put an end to my midnight runs through Griffith Park, so now I don’t do anything ever.”

The joke makes a warmth wash through him, on top of the morphine-warmth. He can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face.

“You’re a smartass,” he slurs, but when you go to pat his hand again, he manages to twist his own and capture your hand. Holds it clumsily, but you don’t let him go, and that’s how he nods off again.

*****

There’s a part of you that would readily admit that this is payback. That you are paying Ben back for his support from months ago. That you owe him, and now you are settling your debt.

There’s another part of you that would less than readily admit that there’s more to it. Despite your unlikely origins, you like the man, enjoy texting him. That when you see him looking like absolute road-kill in the hospital bed, your heart lurches in a way you hadn’t expected.

You learn why his coworkers called you. The one detective who called you, Connors…he pulls you aside in the hallway and explains that they knew about you, kinda. That Borracho—that’s his nickname, apparently—had been caught multiple times texting you and smiling.

“It was weird,” Connors tells you as he hands you a cup of coffee from the vending machine. “Dude never smiles like that.”

You scoff at him. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

The guy shakes his head and takes a sip of his own coffee. “Well, he hasn’t smiled like that in a while. We guessed he found a new girl after his old one destroyed him.”

You wonder what that means—destroyed is such a specific, strong word—but you are cagey in your response.

“Well, we’ve been taking it slow.” Not a lie, exactly. Not the truth either.

Connors claps you on the back. “He’s a good guy. And it’s good of you to come see him.”

-----

You don’t just see Ben, though. It isn’t a one-and-done visit. His coworkers—more like meddlesome brothers, really—pull you right into their orbit and you find yourself powerless to escape. Not that you want to.

They think you’re his girlfriend, so they treat you in a way that’s both deferential and familiar. When you come back to the room, they offer you the seat closest to the hospital bed where Ben is drifting in and out of consciousness. When they order food to smuggle in, they ask what you want before deciding where to order from.

But they are cops through and through. They are also pumping you for intel on yourself, on Ben, on your alleged relationship with him.

What can you tell them? You tell the truth where you can; you keep your lies as close to the truth as possible. Yes, you met Ben at a bar. Yes, you’re keeping it casual. Yes, he’s a good guy. A great guy, in fact.

The man himself comes and goes. Sometimes you glance over at him and see his lax face, and you realize how much younger he looks when he’s asleep. All the worry lines smooth out and he’s left looking almost boyish, save for the bit of silver in his beard and hair.

Other times you look at him and are startled to see him looking back at you. He’s got a dopey look on his face, his eyes glassy with the good drugs, and a very quiet part of you wishes things had gone differently. That maybe he would have looked all love-sick and goofy at you without the benefit of strong opiates.

When you go to leave, Ben is asleep. It spares you an awkward goodbye, the need to act like a couple for the benefit of the other guys. You do kiss your fingertips and press them gently to his forehead, light enough to not wake him.

*****

Benny doesn’t want to call you, but his ride falls through. It occurs to him as he’s calling you, though, that it’s a strange bit of symmetry to months ago, when you needed a ride from him.

Henderson was supposed to take him home from the hospital. Something comes up last minute at work, and since they are short-handed from Benny being out, he finds himself without a ride.

He could call a sister. He has three of them. He could even call one of the cousins that lives in L.A. But he’s weirdly secretive about injuries incurred at work—his parents had been against him going into law enforcement, so he avoids bringing up the bad parts of it…like getting hit by a car at a traffic checkpoint. He hates having to hear the usual I told you so from his mom. And he hates how they all descend on him when he’s sick or injured, his mom and sisters, how it turns cloying and claustrophobic within a day.

In reality, he probably has an entire list of people he could call for a ride. His mind settles on you: you’ve kept in touch over the past few days, texting him and even calling to see how he is. He knows you’re just paying him back from before, but he’s too tired and in too much pain to do anything other than embrace the warm flush he gets every time he hears his phone ping.

When you pick up the phone, he explains the situation, and he also walks it back a little. Says not to worry if it’s a problem, he can always find someone else—

“Not a problem at all,” you reply. “I have a light workday today. We’re just cleaning up the soundstage where we filmed the fake moon landing. I can dip out early.”

He laughs and then bites back a groan, his ribs hurting from the effort. “Smartass,” he grumbles after a beat. “And don’t make me laugh.”

You laugh too, and he realizes it’s the first time he’s heard your real laugh. It’s a nice sound. It makes him smile to hear it.

“Give me forty minutes, and I’ll be there.”

-----

You don’t just dump him off at his apartment, and really, Benny didn’t expect you to. He’s gotten to know you better—from the little texts, before, and now with the fallout from his accident—and he’s found that you’re a decent person. Which maybe sounds like nothing special, but he learned long ago that truly decent people were rarer than one would expect.

You pick him up from the hospital. You take him to his apartment. You help him inside, hovering right at his elbow. Not touching him, but lurking nearby in case he needs help.

You help him get comfortable on his couch. You remember enough of the layout of his place from that night together, and you disappear into his bedroom. You bring out pillows, a blanket. You help him settle on the couch, prop up his broken arm. You disappear into the kitchen and get him a glass of water, and you hand him the remote to the TV.

“I’m going to take your keys,” you tell him, all business. “I’m going to get your prescriptions filled and then get you some food.” You give him a disapproving frown and add, “I snooped in your fridge, Ben. You’re literally a stereotype.”

“What do you mean?”

“You only have a jar of salsa and old Chinese leftovers.”

You aren’t wrong—he rarely bothers to cook for just himself—but he waves you off.

“You don’t have to—” he starts to say, but you interrupt him.

“I’m going to, so just deal with it.” You stare him down, and Benny realizes that you’ve got a steely core to you that is intractable. When he doesn’t challenge you further, you nod in satisfaction and ask what he might want for dinner.

-----

He on a leave of absence for two months, but his first few weeks home are handled by you.

It should feel strange. Should feel like a fever dream, being taken care of by the one-night stand he accidentally knocked up. He realizes only a few days in that he’s stopped thinking about you in those terms.

He thinks of you now as a friend.

He doesn’t know how you feel about him, but at the moment, you treat him like a project. Or maybe you’re treating him like a problem to solve: you come over every evening after work, and you spend the bulk of the weekends with him. One morning, when you’re at work and he’s poking around in his fully-stocked fridge, he finds a list in your neat printing on the counter. It says:

Medication schedule

Meal planning

Laundry

Plant

It’s all the shit you’re doing for him. Unasked. When he tries to wave you off, or tell you that you don’t have to, you wave him off in return and say that you want to.

The bullet point of plant makes him wonder, but that is answered that very evening: you turn up at his door with a bag of groceries in one hand, a potted plant in the other.

“Thought it would cheer the place up,” you tell him simply, and you plunk it down on his kitchen table.

-----

The first few days, it’s just Benny drifting in and out of sleep while you tidy up and make him dinner. You dole out his pills—the antibiotics, the pain pills. You adjust his pillows. You sit and watch TV with him, and you chat a little.

He heals. The splitting headaches fade to dull aching, then disappear. His ribs ache less and less.

You help him clean the ugly scrape along his side. It’s on the same side as his broken arm, and he can’t quite twist his good arm to clean himself without hurting his ribs.

That should feel strange too—the two of you in his bathroom, him shirtless and you bent over his side, swabbing at his cuts and monitoring him for signs of infection. You have gentle hands, a light touch. When you press your head close to his shoulder to put fresh bandages there, he can just catch a hint of your shampoo, the clean herbal smell that he remembers from that night months ago.

----

After those first few days, as he heals and as he steps down from his pain pill regimen, the two of you start to talk.

He apologizes for you getting roped into this by the guys. He didn’t think they knew about you, and he never thought they’d assume anything from his texting with you…but you wave him off, tell him not to apologize.

At the end of the first week, you make a face at his constant apologizing. You wince a little and ask if you should go. Are you cramping his style? Would he rather be alone? Is it too weird, having you there? If he doesn’t need help or company anymore, you can go…

Benny is honest in his answer. No, he doesn’t need your help, he can probably manage on his own with some minor struggles, but he enjoys your company.

So you keep coming over.

And the two of you talk more. It becomes its own thing, the way his initial texts became their own thing: dinner and then watching TV together, either true crime or sports or nothing special at all. The TV is just background noise for when you talk.

“Do you ever feel guilty about it?” he asks one night. His voice is quiet, and the question comes out hesitant. He doesn’t want to offend you, but he also wants to check in with you. He wants to make sure you’re okay, so many months after the fact.

“Guilty? No.” You look at him for a beat, then turn back to the TV. “I suppose if I feel anything, it’s relief. And maybe a little bit of sadness. Scientifically, I know all the propaganda is just flat-out wrong. That abortion…it wasn’t a roly-poly baby. It was a cluster of cells the size of a blueberry. But I guess the sadness is at the potential. It could have been, you know? Maybe I would have miscarried anyway, but the potential was there, if that makes sense.”

Benny nods. “Makes sense to me.”

“What about you?”

He shakes his head a little. “Mostly relief for me too. I wasn’t in a good spot. But I do feel guilty about putting you in that situation.”

“We both agreed—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts you off. “In it together. Right. But still….”

He trails off and looks at you, sees you gazing back at him. There’s no reason this entire weird friendship should make sense, but it does. He sees you looking at him, not an ounce of judgement or disgust in your expression. There’s only a small smile, a small encouraging nod, and he’s still on enough pain medication—and tired enough—for his usual taciturn reserve to fail him.

He opens up about his ex. About the three years they spent together. How he thought she was The One, capital “T” and capital “O.” How he felt like he was on a treadmill, though, always running after her, never catching up. How he struggled to make her happy. How he never made quite enough money, or had quite enough time, or said quite the perfect thing. How his ex used silence like a cudgel, making him scramble to guess what he’d done wrong.

“I went out that night because I was furious,” he admits to you. “I saw that my ex was dating again, only a week after dumping me.”

“So you were definitely rebounding.”

He nods. He reaches out for his glass of water, grunts at the stretch against his ribs as he reaches. You lean forward and get it for him, hand him the glass, and he takes a long sip.

“I just wanted to find some woman to sleep with,” he adds, and the shame washes over him to remember his rage and how he’d been prepared to take it out on a stranger.

“And you found me.” You smile again, this time sad, and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

But you weren’t just some woman that night, and he tells you so. He tells you how funny you had been, how kind. How you had bought him a drink, and no woman had ever bought him a drink before. How you had joked around with him, flirted. Made him feel good about himself, smoothed over the rough edges of his anger until he forgot that he was there to forget his ex.

“You did that thing that some drunk girls do,” he says quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap.

“What thing?”

That thing that some drunk girls do. Benny Magalon knows that alcohol can reveal a person’s innermost self. Angry people are angry drunks. Sweet people are sweet drunks.

That night at the bar: you completely drunk, him well on the road to full intoxication too. He had mentioned his recent breakup, made some disparaging comment about himself. And you had done that thing, cupped his face firmly between your two hands, smushed his cheeks together a bit because you were drunk. You had gazed up at him, eyes glassy but earnest, and you gave him one of those drunk-girl pep-talks. Told him he was good-looking and smart and funny and a million other superlatives that you couldn’t possibly prove out, since he was a stranger to you, but it still made him feel amazing all the same. After three years of scrambling to feel worthy of his ex, you had given him a hot-shot right to his ego. Made him feel hopeful.

That was the moment he had decided to take you home. Not because you were the random woman he wanted to fuck as a way of getting over his ex, but because you seemed so unlike her, and he wanted you just for you.

He tells you all of that now, and you’re quiet for a long, long moment. He’s found that you have a poker face too (maybe not as good as his own), and he can’t guess what you’re thinking.

“That’s why I feel guilty two times over,” he adds. “Because I went out to the bar with less-than-honorable intentions. I went out just to find someone to use. And then, what happened afterwards….”

“You have to let go of the guilt, Ben,” you tell him. You shake your head a bit, offer him another sad smile. “It’s in the past. You can’t change it, so take your lesson from it and do better going forward.”

-----

It’s only a few days later when he snaps at you. It’s not your fault, but it’s his first full day without pain medicine, and Benny realizes that the stuff he’s been on was super-strong. Now that he’s off it, the pain is in full bloom: the ache in his ribs, the grinding pain in his broken arm. The itchy healing of the cuts and scrapes on his side. He’s been in a shitty mood all day, and when you turn up and make dinner, he takes it out on you.

“You can stop coming over. If you think you owe me, you’ve repaid it ten times over,” he spits out. His head is throbbing, and he’s uber-aware of his broken arm. He can’t get comfortable with it, and even the sling seems to irritate his neck and shoulder until he feels like he’s made of just raw nerves and exhaustion.

“I don’t think that at all.” You are serene when you answer him, completely unperturbed by his mean tone.

“Don’t you?” It comes out sneering, and he knows he’s trying to pick a fight. Some part of him—a small, mean part—wants to fight with you. Wants to drive you away. He wants to be alone and wallow. Because another part of him—a small, despairing part—wants you to stay, but he knows that once he’s healed and able to take care of himself, you’ll disappear…

Better to be the one to push people away than to be the one who is pushed away.

You don’t rise to the occasion of the fight. You turn away from the stove to look at him, and your tone is mild.

“I’ll leave if you want, but let me finish dinner first. No sense in wasting it.”

It breaks the spell of his irritation, and Benny hangs his head. “Sorry.”

You reach out and lay a hand on his forehead, considering him. “You look flushed. First day off the pain pills, right? No wonder you’re ornery.”

You drop your hand and turn back to the stove, to dinner prep. You tell him, just as casually, that you know how it feels. That you took a bad fall on a hike a few years back and jammed up your shoulder pretty good. That you had surgery to repair the mess of torn ligaments, and that the withdrawal from even a short run of opiates was miserable.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats quietly. Then, a beat later, “will you stay?”

*****

It shouldn’t make sense, but it does. You and Ben Magalon may have started as a couple of strangers united through a sad event, but you’ve ended up friends.

From friends, you become something more, but you go so, so slow. It’s glacially paced, but that suits you just fine. It seems to suit him too. Friendship is a good place to stay while he works through his own issues with his ex. Friendship is a good place for you to idle while you contemplate how wildly out of order everything is: one-night stand, accidental pregnancy, then affection.

Because you do like Ben. A lot. You don’t love him, but you’ve always been slow to fall in love, too measured and wary of such precarious emotions. Love, for you, is like getting the flu: there’s signs that it’s coming. Instead of a sore throat or a bit of fever, it’s little things: the fluttery feeling in your stomach, the way your thoughts drift to him when you are at work.

It goes slow. Ben heals up and goes back to work. The two of you text all the time, and it becomes a thing, hanging out. You’re both zero frills, zero fuss, so you usually just settle at your apartment or his. Order take-out and watch whatever game is on, or you switch off on picking movies. Which is what friends do—they just hang out. But sometimes it toes the line of being more.

Like when he has a weeklong string of bad work days. A case that falls apart. A witness that disappears. Double shifts where nothing is accomplished and nothing is solved. He calls you and tells you about it, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice.

“Want me to come over and bring you dinner?” you ask, and he does want that.

The week must have gotten under his skin, because when the two of you eat a late meal on his couch, he sits closer to you. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. After he finishes eating, he sets his take-out container down and loops an arm around your shoulder. Pulls you against him gently.

“This okay?” he asks.

It is okay, and you tell him so.

-----

Or there’s the time your grandfather dies. You fly out east for the funeral, but when you return to L.A., you text Ben.

He turns up at your door with a bag of tacos, grease-spotted and still warm from the restaurant. He sits with you and eats in silence, not pushing you, and when the dam finally breaks and you cry, he holds you then too. Only this time, he’s giving you comfort instead of taking it for himself, and you consider it later—how the two of you seem to be the other’s safe place, against all odds.

*****

It’s not a position that Benny Magalon ever thought he’d find himself in. Getting a girl pregnant, then falling in love with her after the fact. He’s seen a million incongruous things happen in his job though. L.A. is a vortex of the weird.

Stranger things have happened.

He keeps up the tame lie for the benefit of the guys. Easier to maintain the lie than to come up with a more complicated lie to explain you away…and certainly easier than coming clean. They rag him sometimes, and he finds that he enjoys the lie. He enjoys pretending that you’re his girl, that he’s managed to land someone he thinks is the real deal.

The two of you are friends, and maybe the situation that brought you together helps, in its own strange way. Trial by fire. Mutual mourning pulling you together instead of tearing you apart.

The reality is that the line is blurring. It’s slow, but the line is dissolving between friends and something else. The two of you start to touch more—you tucked away under his arm as you watch TV or chat, him casually touching your back as he walks past you. Small touches, nothing overtly sexual, but it’s a cozy intimacy that he finds he really likes, especially with you. It grounds him.

Sometimes you sleep over at each other’s place, even if it’s never planned. He nods off on your couch and wakes in the morning to find that you’ve eased a pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket. You fall asleep against him at his place, and he puts you in his bed. He gives you a t-shirt to sleep in while he tosses and turns on his own couch, trying to be the gentleman.

There’s the night you both fall asleep together on your couch. He wakes up in the middle of the night, disoriented, to find you curled up in his arms, your steady breathing tickling against his neck.

That’s the night he chances to kiss you, just a gentle press of his lips against your temple. Then he falls back asleep too, wondering at the cliché of it, how well he sleeps with you.

-----

A year passes. The anniversary passes. He’s working a double shift that day so he can’t be there with you, but when he goes out for a smoke break, he calls you.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

There’s a long pause, and he knows you’re being thoughtful before you answer. You do that, he’s noticed: you answer slow because you want to be honest and clear.

“I was sad earlier, but I’m okay now,” you tell him. “What about you?”

He was sad earlier too. He had thought about it all day, the potential you had told him about before. But hearing your voice makes him feel better, and he tells you so.

There’s another long beat of silence from you, but then your soft voice says, “I’m glad to have you in my life, Ben.”

That makes him feel better too.

-----

It’s a few months after when one of Benny’s cases finally gets solved. It has dragged on for months and months, leads that led nowhere, witnesses who saw nothing. He finally gets a pop on some touch DNA, and it unlocks two other unsolved cases. He gets that flush of pleasure at a job well done, at actually living out his dream of being a cop who solves shit and gets the bad guys put away.

The guys want to celebrate. They invoke your name.

“Bring your girl, Borracho,” Z says. “We’ll keep it PG for her.”

“PG-13, at least,” Henderson amends.

Benny demurs. Mumbles something about not wanting to bother you, and he misses the sly smile between Connors and the Z.

When they end up at the bar they usually go to, there you are: waiting outside with a shy smile on your face. Waiting for them. You’ve shed your workwear and are in jeans that hug your curves, a shirt that shows just a hint of cleavage. You have a whole cutely sexy thing that he loves, and his heart lurches when he sees you.

Z slaps Benny on the back. He leans forward and tells him that Connors kept your phone number for just such an occasion, and he smirks as he tells Benny that he can’t hide you away forever.

He has to concede that they have a point.

-----

He knows you well enough to know you’re a homebody by nature, but you can turn on a sociable part of you too. You’re shy at first—you shrink against him a bit, because the guys are a lot—but you warm up over time. You know them from the hospital. It doesn’t take long until you are chatting with them, laughing with them.

When they try to embarrass Benny by telling you stories about him, you sweetly defend him. When Big Nick offers a toast to the man of the hour, when the guys give you the sordid details about the cases he just solved, you smile at him so broadly that he feels dazzled.

He lays his arm around your shoulders, and you lean into him. You lay a gentle hand on his knee.

You both drink, but not much at all. You both layer in a lot of water between your alcohol, and at some point, late in the night, you both switch to soda at the same time.

Henderson notices it. He rolls his eyes and gestures between the two of you.

“Gross,” he says. “You two are already acting like each other.”

Benny flips him off with a grin, but he squeezes you a little tighter against his side. He knows why he’s not getting plastered, and he can guess that you’re pacing yourself for the same reason.

By the time it’s last call, it doesn’t feel like the two of you are pretending for the benefit of the guys anymore. It feels natural.

----

Benny takes you home, like that first night together, but that’s where the comparison ends.

There’s no drunken pawing at each other, no giggling when one trips over their discarded pants. No sloppy kisses that taste like liquor.

He’s gone so slowly with you. He’s been so careful. It started that day he was healing, the first day without pain pills when he had been a snappish asshole and you had simply recognized the source of his ire and moved on. That was the day he started to think, maybe. Maybe I can win this woman over, after all the terrible shit from the beginning.

He’s never been so careful with a woman. He builds a friendship first. He gets to really know you, and he lets his own guard down so you can know him.

Benny goes slow now too. He puts his hands on your shoulders before he makes a move. He makes you look at him, and even though you’ve been only drinking a little, he studies your eyes for any signs of impairment. He finds none: just you, clear-eyed, gazing up at him.

“Is this something you want?” he asks. He thinks he gets that vibe from you, but he’s not entirely sure. The insecure part of him, leftover from his ex, wonders if you’re just trauma-bonded to him. He’s heard the term before, and he wonder if it fits your situation with him.

You’re not drunk, but you do that thing that some drunk girls do: you reach up and hold his face between your hands. You don’t smush his cheeks together like before, because you’re sober, and he smiles against the memory. You smile back at him.

“This is something I want,” you reply.

So he takes his time. He moves slowly, carefully. He kisses you, and it’s not like before. For one, you’re sober, but more than that: he knows you now. He knows your quirks and likes and habits. He knows how you deal with tragedy, how you break problems down into manageable bites. You aren’t just some cute girl from a bar. You’re a real woman that he’s fallen for, little by little, then all at once.

You kiss him back, the sweet press of your lips against his, the sweep of your tongue inside his mouth. He’s tentative when he touches you—his palms smoothing over your arms, one settling at your waist to pull you closer to him. The other slides up to cup the back of your neck, and he brushes his thumb over your throat, over your pulse point. He can feel your heartbeat, steady and solid.

You touch him back. Press your palms to his chest, toy with button near his throat. You undo it, and then you break the kiss to dip your head. You kiss him, feather-light, in the hollow of his throat. He exhales a ragged breath and cups your chin to pull your face back to his, your mouth back to his own. He kisses you harder. Nips against your soft lower lip, suckles against it when you gasp.

He does everything he should have that first night. Deep down, he’s not like Big Nick or the other guys: he’s only had a handful of random hook-ups, almost always settling for relationships over flings. Now’s his chance to do better with you. He leads you to the bedroom, your hand gripped in his, unwilling to let you go for even a few seconds.

He takes his time. He strips you slowly, worships each new part of you when it’s bared to him. He takes off your shirt and then kisses your neck, your collarbones, your shoulders. He finds the old scars from your shoulder injury, and he kisses those gently, remembering how kindly you had cared for him when he was injured.

He takes off your bra and lavishes you with attention there: cups your breasts in his hands, molds them and pushes them up so that he can lave them with his tongue, nip at your diamond-hard peaks with the edges of his teeth until you whine out his name.

It goes straight to his dick, hearing his name tumbling out of your mouth in that breathy, pleading tone. He’s never heard that tone before. He wants to hear it again and again.

He gets you out of the rest of your clothes. He sheds his own. He kisses his way down your body, suckles marks against your soft skin. He kisses the softness of your belly, kisses the swell of your hips. He bares his teeth and nips at your hipbone, and you squirm at the sensation. Huff out his name again, only this time you call him Benny. Usually you call him Ben (or sometimes Officer Magalon, when you’re feeling like a teasing little shit) but Benny sounds so much better in your mouth.

He didn’t go down on you before; you let him do so now. You part your thighs, make room for his broad shoulders to spread you wider before him. You squirm a little at that too, at his heavy gaze, so he asks again if it’s okay. You nod, but then you say that yes, it’s okay. Your voice is strained, tight with lust, so Benny bends his head to you. He puts his mouth on you, and the first swipe of his tongue makes you whine out his name again, makes his dick jump at the sound.

He wants to devour you, but he keeps his careful pace. Laps at you torturously slow, circles your clit in a lazy pattern with the tip of his tongue. Eases one finger, then another into your wet heat, and he can already feel how sensitive you are. Keyed up and twitching against his fingers. Benny has to shift himself on the bed to give himself a bit of friction against the sheets, a bit of relief for his aching cock.

“Benny, please,” you whisper. It tears out of your throat ragged, raw. He glances up and sees how he’s undone you with just his mouth: your lips are parted and panting, your eyes are shiny with frustrated tears.

“Got you, sweetheart.” And he does. He crooks his fingers inside you, pressing his fingertips searchingly inside you until you gasp and jerk against him.

“Right there?” he asks. “Is that the spot?”

“Fuck, yes, Benny…yes, right there—”

He bends his head again. Strokes that spot inside you with his fingertips, and then he wraps his lips around your clit. Sucks against it, and you’re so keyed up, that’s all it takes. He feels it a moment later, the force of your orgasm overtaking you. He coaxes you through it, groans at how it hits all of his senses—your pussy gripping his fingers, the warm slick of your cum coating his hand and his tongue. The taste of you, and best of all: you whining his name, begging him to not stop, to never stop.

-----

What comes next could be awkward, given your history together. But the two of you have taken it slowly, become friends. The two of you have spoken frankly about what happened, and so it isn’t awkward.

“We can stop, if you want,” he tells you once you’ve both calmed from him eating you out. He’s stretched out beside you, running his hand over your arm soothingly. “We don’t have to do anything else.”

You lean forward and press a light kiss to his mouth. “I want to, Benny.”

“I have new condoms. Unexpired.”

You nod. “And I have an IUD. Got one a few months after.”

“Twice as safe then.”

“Well….” You shrug against him, and you start to cite prevention percentages in both contraceptives, in perfect use and typical use, and Benny is reminded that you’re also a giant fucking nerd for statistics and numbers, so he cuts you off with a kiss.

And what comes after that discussion could be awkward too, but it isn’t. He lies on his back. He wants you on top, controlling the moment. He doesn’t want even an ounce of doubt in his head creeping in later, when he will inevitably try to convince himself that you don’t want him and only went along with it.

It’s not awkward at all. You mirror his slow pace, and now that you’re on top, you take liberties and kiss him. Gentle kisses across his face, down his throat. Across his shoulders and chest, and you start to drift even lower until he stops you.

“Some other time,” he says, and his voice sounds like yours did. Ragged. Raw.

It’s not awkward when you slide onto him. When you settle against his thighs, the full length of him buried inside you. Not awkward at all. You feel like home.

He grips your waist, but he doesn’t drive you to go faster. He just holds onto you as you ride him, slow and sensual. You go slow enough for him to feel every inch of you, feel the heavy drag of his cock as you impale yourself over and over on him.

You look like a damned vision. He probably looks stupid, his mouth agape, a stunned look on his face. He can’t fathom how he’s here with you, despite the slow and careful tact he’s taken all these months. More than a year he’s known you, and it astounds him that the two of you have ended up here together.

“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart,” he breathes out. You are. He looks at you greedily, takes in every inch of you. He wants to memorize this moment. Before, he was left with only a few flashes of memory, so he wants to take in every movement of your hips, every bounce of your tits as you ride him. The way you arch your back as you pick up the pace, driving both yourself and him to your mutual pleasure.

This time around, he gets to see you come. He can’t remember that moment from before, but he sees it now: the way you squeeze your eyes shut so tightly that a tear creeps out of one corner. The way you breathe out his name, a tortured whisper. One of your hands grips at his pec, your nails biting into his skin, but the other reaches higher to cup his face. To hold him steady as you lean forward and kiss him, hard.

That’s how you come—a throaty groan that he swallows down as he kisses you back, a tight grip on his cock as you sink onto him and still. You break the kiss a second later, whispering his name over and over like a prayer, and it’s such an intensely intimate moment—and he’s been holding his own orgasm back—that he comes too.

-----

Before, the two of you had basically collapsed afterwards, a mass of sweaty limbs tangled up together. You’d both fallen asleep; there had been no talking afterwards.

This is…sweeter. More intimate. Benny cleans up, and he helps you clean up, and then he settled back down in the bed with you. Lifts an arm in invitation, and you curl up against him.

He feels drunk now, if he’s honest. He feels loose-limbed and pleasantly buzzed. There’s a warm flush offset by the goosebumps you raise on him as you trace your fingertip over the tattoo on his chest, as your breath tickles against his neck.

Not for the first time, it occurs to him how absurd this is. This thing between the two of you. He always thought he’d meet his girl the usual way, do things in the usual order.

You must be thinking the same thing. After a long stretch of silence, you say, “it’s weird, right?”

It is, but it’s not bad-weird. Just…. unlikely-weird. Unexpected-weird.

“I’m not a one-night stand anymore,” he jokes.

You turn your head and nip at him playfully. “You know what I mean, Benny.”

“I do.” He takes a few steadying breaths, the adds, “it never has to be anyone’s business but our own, you know.”

“I know.”

“Because I want this.” He says it quieter, half hoping you don’t hear it over how hard his heart must be beating.

He almost thinks you don’t hear him, it takes you so long to answer. But you do. “I want this too,” you whisper back.

You fall asleep first, and he takes longer to nod off. He thinks back to when the two of you talked about it, how you had said that you were only sad when you thought about the potential, from before.

But as he starts to drift to sleep, he thinks about the potential the two of you still have. The potential you have together because you both took a less than ideal situation and came together over it. How you became each other’s support and built from that instead of letting the sad circumstances of your beginning keep you apart.

You and Benny Magalon. You were in it together, both then and now.

~~~Tag List~~~ @bananas-pajamas @massivecolorspygiant @imspillingcoffee @amneris21 @paintballkid711 @mad-girl-without-a-box @bestattempt @rosiefridayrogersunday @strawberrydragon @hoeforthefictional @greeneyedblondie44 @leannawithacapitala @stardust-galaxies @buckybarneshairpullingkink @harriedandharassed @thatpinkshirt@melaniecraig80 @thesandbeneathmytoes

#benny magalon #Benny Borracho Magalon Imagine #benny borracho magalon #benny magalon x reader #benny magalon x reader #Borracho Magalon x Reader #borracho magalon x reader #borracho magalon #den of thieves

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emerald-notes · 2 years

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Red Hope! - Part 1

Specially requested by @lelewright1234. Hope you enjoy!

Note: This work is totally fictional and has nothing to do with BTS in real life. I mean no hate toward any person in particular. This plotline was requested. Though I personally hate bullies, I still believe there is hope for everyone.

Fandom: BTS Pairing: OT7 × OC (Leah) Warning: Bullies, swearing, drinking, car accident, blood, etc. Genre: Angst Summary: When Leah saves the boys from a car accident, despite them bullying her in the past, they reconsider their actions...

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 (Complete)

*************************************************

The night was freezing cold. I remembered rubbing my hands to generate some heat while I walked down the road. I was coming back to my home from my best friend, Nina’s house. It was already past midnight and though she insisted me to stay at her place for the night, I still refused. Walking through the chilly night, I was regretting that decision.

There was some shouting coming from a group of boys in the middle of the road. They looked too drunk to even understand what they were doing. I got closer, being annoyed and worried at the same time that they might run into some accidents.

"Yoongi, you little freak!" One of them shouted.

I froze. It was no other than the boy named Jungkook from my class with his pack of boys he called his hyungs. The group who called themselves "Bangtan Boys". The boys who had been bullying me for the past 8 years for fun.

"Look who's here to keep us company?" Jin, the oldest of them shouted. It was too late. They'd already seen me.

Jin came toward me, putted one of his hands around my neck and leaned on me, "Why? It's our wife, Leah."

I was standing stiff on my place. But his whole body mass seemed to work against mine and my legs gave up. I was being pushed towards the group.

The laughter from the boys were still ringing on my ears when I noticed the speedy car, honking its horn, coming towards us. I had to think fast. They were too drunk to make it to the side of the road. I made the decision.

I pushed two of the boys standing in front of me with all of my might causing them to push the ones in front of them. I saw some of them tripped and fell.

And then, I was hit.

*************************************************

The boys were all standing still, too shocked to react. The car that hit Leah was a bit further. A man on his 40’s got down from it. He was talking on his phone frantically and swearing occasionally.

Taehyung quietly walked toward Leah and sat down beside her, “Leah,” he called, hoping against hope that she was fine, that it was all just a prank she was playing to get back at them. But Leah laid motionless.

Taehyung hold her head up and took it on his lap. Then he noticed the blood on his hands. “Shit” he swore too loudly to make the others come to their senses.

“Is she…” Jimin’s voice cracked. He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Jin sat down beside Taehyung. He touched her side of the neck to feel the pulse, “She’s alive. I can feel her pulse.” A sigh of relief left from some of the boys.

“But” Taehyung stammered to form the right words, “the blood… I…she…too much…what if…” he broke down, crying. Jin took Leah’s head on his lap while Jimin embraced Taehyung, trying to calm him down.

A siren was heard. Everything happened in a blur. Leah was carried to the ambulance. There were people checking on the boys if they were hurt. The police man was interrogating them about the accident. Taehyung kept crying despite everyone reassuring him that it was going to be okay.

But above all, the guilt they were all feeling deep inside was something very new to the boys.

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My Masterlist

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Batsis Meet The Batboys

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Y'all, I am slowly but surely making good on that promise to get all my stories reposted--also editing them so they're nice and neat! Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

She hummed in amusement as her father grunted and begrudgingly passed over another five into the man’s hand. “You know…it’s good to know that my perfect father actually sucks at something.” She turned and popped a piece of cotton candy into her mouth. “And it’s carnival games.”

He grunted again when he missed the balloon, and he handed her the darts. “Why don’t you try it, sweetheart?”

She handed him the cotton candy with a grin and took the darts, holding one up and making the repeated motion of throwing it. She couldn’t help but feel a little cocky as she asked, “Dad, if I get this, what toy do you want?”

She nodded to the bat in the corner. “I was thinking about the stuffed bat. Eh, dad?” He glared at her, but she laughed as she tossed the weighted dart, watching as it hit center and she pointed to the bat. “I’ll take that one.”

The man handed it to her, and they walked off; she held it up to her father. “Here. A bat for Batman,” she quipped, and he grunted at her.

“That isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

She shrugged and retorted, “It’s a little funny. You just have no sense of humor because you’re a stick in the mud.” (Y/N) shoved the stuffed animal in her backpack before reaching up and taking her father’s hand; she glanced down at her wristwatch on the opposite hand and said, “The performances don’t start for another twenty minutes. Want to go look at something else? I saw one of those spinning car rides. We could do that.”

When he didn’t give her response, she looked back up at him to see him staring off into the distance, his eyes set on the Wayne Enterprises tower. “Dad? You okay?”

He blinked as if startled from his thoughts and he directed his gaze down at her and after a few moments, he nodded. “Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you.” He frowned and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I haven’t been a good—”

She cut him off with a ‘pfft’. “Dad, it’s alright. I’m not angry.” (Y/N) squeezed his hand in return. “I might be young, but I’m not an idiot. I know being a dad is new for you, especially since you didn’t get to watch me grow up the first decade of my life. But what matters is that you’re here now, and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all I ask of you.”

At her little speech, he was stunned, and after a moment he knelt down and hugged her. “I love you, sweetheart.”

(Y/N) returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, though they were so big and broad that she couldn’t meet her hands around his back. “I love you too, dad.”

Happening to glance over his shoulder, she immediately gasped. “Dad!”

He let her go, immediately moving to protect her. “What? What is it?”

(Y/N) pointed towards a costumed family walking and greeting the people. “It’s the Flying Grayson’s!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along in their direction. “Let’s get a picture with them!” She could hear her father chuckle behind her, but he followed, and they stepped up to the family.

(Y/N) waved at them. “Hi Mister and Missus Grayson! Can we get a picture with you?”

The man and woman smiled at them and nodded, and a boy a couple years younger than her stepped up.

He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Richard Grayson. But you can call me Dick.”

(Y/N) took his hand and shook it. “(Y/N) Wayne. Nice to meet you, Dick.” She gestured to her father. “This is my dad, Bruce Wayne.”

Her father smiled and tipped his head towards the boy before handing the camera to someone and stepping beside her. She and Dick had become friends instantaneously as they slung their arms around each other’s necks, their grins cheesy and wide.

The camera flashed and the man handed Bruce the camera, and (Y/N) nodded to the family. “Thank you for taking a picture with us.” They started to walk away, but she stopped them, motioning to her dad. “Can my dad take a picture of the three of you? I know it seems a little weird, but it’d be cool to have a picture of you guys, and one with you.” They nodded at her request and she gestured to her father, watching him take the photo of the family. “Thank you!”

They waved and walked off, leaving them, and she turned to Bruce. “Wanna go find seats?” He nodded, and they began moving in the direction of the tent.

***

Time seemed to grind to a halt as (Y/N)’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched them slam into the ground. Chaos filled the tent in mere seconds, people screaming, children crying, and her father grabbed her arm. “(Y/N)—”

She nodded and pulled her arm away, already starting to make her way from her seat. “I’ve got him. Go.” She didn’t wait for his reply, hopping the seats until her feet hit the dirt ground and she broke into a sprint towards the sobbing boy in the center.

She twisted her feet and slid on the ground next to him, her heart tightened when he gazed up at her, sky blue eyes wide in agony. (Y/N) reached out, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve got you Dick. I’ve got you kid.”

She felt his arms come around her middle as his head burrowed in her shoulder; his entire body shook with every heart-wrenching sob, and (Y/N) raised one of her hands, running it through his hair as she whispered repeatedly, “I’ve got you.”

(Y/N) heard GCPD officers shouting, and she looked up, seeing her father standing beside them. “Batman,” she whispered softly.

He glanced at her before kneeling beside them and blocking the way of the fallen couple. “You two shouldn’t look at this anymore.”

She nodded and squeezed the boy on the shoulder. “Dick. We need to get away from here.”

“I can’t…leave them.” He pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m…all alone.”

(Y/N) shook her head, and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Dick. You’re not alone.” His face pinched as a new round of tears sprouted in his eyes and he lowered his head, the sobs wracking his body, and she gazed up at her father’s face, knowing the agony behind the white slits. “You’re not alone.”

Jason:

She walked alongside her father, tugging at the collar of her suit. “Can’t we make a suit that doesn’t choke me as much as this collar does? I feel like I’ve got one of Ivy’s vines wrapped around my throat.” He didn’t say anything and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine. Ignore me. I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who designed your suit, Batgirl. I told you to choose breathable fabric but you refused and said you wanted adequate protection like mine.”

She blinked and glared at him. “Do you get some sick pleasure from repeating my apparent failures?” He chuckled lightly, and she looked around. “Whatever…I still think you shouldn’t have parked in Crime Alley. You know there’s always trouble here.”

“The Batmobile is fine,” he said, voice tired as if he’d answered the question a hundred times before—he had.

(Y/N) hummed, nodding to the car a few feet ahead of them and quipped, “Oh, so the kid jacking the tires off it is completely normal?”

Her father looked at her split second before turning to see it, his eyes widening in disbelief as he muttered, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” He moved soundlessly towards the boy, her following.

“Got to give it to him. It takes some big balls to jack the Batman’s ride,” she admired and he grunted, though she knew he was in agreement, and they walked up on the oblivious boy.

She watched her father pull his ‘Put-The-Fear-Of-Batman-Into-‘Em’ stance and he cleared his throat with an exaggerated, ‘ahem’. (Y/N) snorted at the way the boy jerked, twisting to see them staring at him; she swore he’d shit himself the way the fear bled into his eyes.

Her father glared at the kid. “You do realize that’s the Batmobile, right?”

The boy’s face pinched, and he tipped his head up, his voice haughty. “Duh. You do realize you parked your car in Crime Alley, right?” (Y/N) barked a laugh, but quickly coughed when her father turned his glower to her, and he turned back to the boy just in time to see him swinging the tire iron.

“Bad move, hotshot.” Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her father catch the tool and grip the boy by the front of his hoodie, picking him up off the ground a few feet.

He squirmed, legs kicking out for few seconds before spitting, “You want to beat up on a kid, go enlist in the GCPD like every other bully in this city.”

(Y/N) saw the gears turning in her father’s head as he leaned in, his face inches apart from the boys as he demanded, “I’m only going to ask you this once…So give some serious thought to your answer.”

The boy craned his neck, eyes narrowed as he asked, “What it is?”

Her father gave him a smirk. “Are you hungry?” The boy’s brows furrowed in suspicion, and within the next ten minutes, they were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile eating burgers and fries and sipping on milkshakes.

At one point, she’d reached over and grabbed the boy’s hands; he looked up at her and she nodded to his burger. “Slow down, Jason. You’ll eat your hand at this rate.”

He snorted but nodded, eating a little slower than before as he said, “Sorry. This is the closest thing to a home-cooked meal since I’ve had a home.” He paused and looked out at the city. “It’s funny…I was here once, looking for Wayne Manor.” He looked between them. “I was trying to case the place, but I got lost.”

Bruce looked down at the boy and questioned, “Why do you think it’s okay to steal from people?”

Jason scoffed at his question. “Are you kidding me? Look at this view.” He motioned to the buildings in the distance. “Freaking ‘Billionaire Playboy’ thinks he’s the king of the world. Pfft.”

(Y/N) elbowed him in the ribs and quipped, “Oh honey, he doesn’t think he is. He knows he is.”

The two of them cackled, but the solemn look from her father made their laughter fall short and he said, “Sometimes you just have to give people a chance Jason…they’ll usually surprise you.”

Her father’s words made Jason pause, and she saw him sink into deep thought. After a few moments, she leaned across Jason and nudged her father.

He looked at her and she tipped her head to Jason. “Does this mean he’s coming home with us?” Her father looked at him and back to her, then nodded and she shifted her arm, grinning as she wrapped it around Jason’s neck. “Well then, welcome to the family…little brother.”

Tim:

She could sense the boy following her, and after a few moments, she realized he wasn’t giving up. It wasn’t just some coincidence that they were on the same path—he wanted something from her. She glanced over her shoulder before ducking into the shadows of an alley, waiting for him to follow.

Sure enough, he stepped into the opening of the alley, looking for her, then he shook his head and stamped his foot on the ground. “No-no-no. I was so close to finding her.” He sighed and his shoulders fell in defeat as he visibly deflated.

She stepped behind him and gripped his shoulder in an steel-tight grasp, inquiring, “Why are you following me, kid?”

The kid gasped like he’d been shot as his knees collapsed beneath him, falling from her grip and to the ground. He rolled and gazed up at her with a mixture of shock and wonder as he breathed, “Batgirl.”

She glared down at him and demanded, “Answer my question before I call GCPD for you being out past curfew. Why. Are. You. Following. Me.”

He swallowed thickly before nodding rapidly. “Right. You see, I’ve been looking for you, Batgirl.”

“Yeah, I got that from the tailing. What I wanna know is, why?”

“I need to talk to you about Batman.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the mention of her father. “What’s a scrawny-ass kid like you, need to talk about Batman with me for?”

His mouth opened, then it snapped shut and he seemed to think on his answer for a moment. He looked at his hands and whispered, “It’s about your brother…Jason Todd.”

Hearing her deceased brother’s name knocked the air from her lungs and she barely managed to get the word ‘what?’ out without sucking in a breath.

He glanced up at her. “I know who you are Miss Way—”

(Y/N)’s hand shot out and she slapped it over his mouth before shaking her head. “Don’t say my name. You don’t know who’s listening.” He went silent as she removed her hand and held it out for him. “C’mon. If you know who I am then that means you know everyone’s identity.”

He nodded mutely and she clicked a button on her wrist; A few moments later, her bike pulled in front of the alley. “Get up. We need to go have a chat.” He took her hand, letting her haul him to his feet, and they walked over to the bike. (Y/N) climbed on before nodding to him. “Get on and hold on.” He followed her order, sitting in front of her, and she took off.

***

A few minutes later, they were stepping into one of the safe houses her dad set up around the city. She closed the door and flicked on the light, pulling the cowl off before gesturing to the table. “Sit.” He obeyed and she opened the refrigerator, pulling out two sodas. (Y/N) turned, taking the seat across from him and sliding his drink over. “Now. Who are you and how do you know about all this?”

He nodded and pulled out a giant book, placing it on the table. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, I’m thirteen, and I’ve been following the exploits of Batman, Batgirl, and Robin since I was two.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow at that. “Two’s a little young to be able to remember us.”

Tim looked at the book and nodded. “I know…but I have a photographic memory, and I remember the first time I saw Batman.”

“And that was?”

He paused and his voice quiet. “The night Dick Grayson’s parents were murdered.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and he drew his eyes to hers. “I remember Dick swinging to the ground as his parents climbed the ladder. His mom went first, and his dad followed. Then…the rope snapped, and…they fell.”

Tim quieted considerably and she had to strain to hear him as he recounted, “I got scared, and I looked away. I couldn’t watch…then I heard the crash and Dick sobbing. And I saw you run down and hug him.” He met her gaze. “Then I saw this giant, dark shape falling towards you, and I thought it was going to hurt you two. But then I realized Batman wasn’t trying to hurt you…he was trying to help you both. And he went from being a monster…to becoming some great Dark Knight.”

Tim looked at her. “From them on, I’ve been having the same dream, over and over. I—”

(Y/N) raised a hand, stopping him. “When did you find out who we were?”

He nodded. “When I was nine, I was watching TV and I saw you and Dick, well, Robin and Batgirl. You—”

“Batgirl and Robin. In that order.” She pointed to herself with a face that could only be something akin to the ‘first-child-syndrome’. “I was first.”

A smile grew across Tim’s face and he nodded. “Right, Batgirl and Robin. Anyway, I saw you two on TV, and I watched Dick perform a quadruple somersault.” He grinned rather proudly of himself and declared, “I knew that somersault like I knew my own name. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. And if Dick Grayson was Robin and Bruce Wayne’s ward, then Bruce Wayne was Batman, and you were Batgirl.” (Y/N) stared at Tim in shock, too stunned to even form words.

He shifted nervously under her gaze. “Um…Miss (Y/N)? Batgirl? Are you alright?”

(Y/N) blinked and shook her head as she muttered, “Holy shit, kid. What are you?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

She huffed a laugh and grinned at him. “You’ve got some damn good detective skills to have figured all that out.” Tim smiled sheepishly under the praise, then (Y/N) stood up from the table, stretching her arms over her head until she heard her joints pop, then she stared at him. “You got a place to sleep tonight?”

“I…no. Not at the moment.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on her hips and hummed. “And why’s that?”

“Well, in the course of looking for you, I’ve also been looking for Dick. But I can’t find him. He’s good at disappearing.”

She nodded and pointed to a room. “I know where Dick is. Go sleep in the guest room, and tomorrow we can go find him.”

As she walked past him, heading for her room, he questioned dubiously, “You’d do that for me?”

(Y/N) stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what family does?”

Tim’s jaw went slack and he gaped at her as she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Damian:

She shut the door behind her and locked it, though there really wasn’t any reason to considering the fact that no one could get into the manor, let alone across the front lawn without anyone inside knowing.

Hauling the bag up and over her shoulder, she found it odd that no one had greeted her yet and her oddity turned into unsettling when she didn’t hear anything.

She dropped her keys in the silver bowl on the side table and looked around the foyer. “Hello? Dad? Alfred? Timmy?” She stuck her head in the kitchen door. “Anyone home?”

There was no response and she hummed questioningly, knowing that on a Sunday, everyone was home relaxing. She made her way to the study and shifted the clock hands, watching as the entrance appeared, then she descended the steps into the cave. It was even quieter than usual, and she felt the hairs stand up on the back on her neck as she made her way to the Batcomputer.

She pushed a button on the keyboard, watching as the screen came to life and said, “Give me the most recent update.”

“Confirmation?” It replied.

“(Y/N) Wayne, Batgirl.”

The computer beeped for a moment. “(Y/N) Wayne. Batgirl. Access level high.” It paused. “Access granted. Welcome Batgirl.”

“Give me the most recent update.”

“Requested.” It processed the request then told her, “Talia al Ghul entered Gotham Bay approximately two days ago, leaving behind Damian al Ghul in Batman’s custody.”

Damian al Ghul? Who the hell is that? (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she pushed another button. “Who is Damian al Ghul.”

“Damian al Ghul is the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Conceived…month and day unknown…year was two-thousand-three.”

(Y/N) stared at the screen, not sure if she should feel shock that her dad had a second biological kid, or disgust that he slept with Talia to get one. All the sudden, her training kicked in and she felt someone behind her. She spun around, catching the blade of a sword coming at her. She looked down at a young child, no older than ten, glaring up at her. She’d seen pictures of her father when he was a child, and though he had Talia’s emerald green eyes and olive complexion, there was no mistaking the resemblance between him and her father.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she shoved him away. “The hell are you doing?”

He raised the sword again and said, “Testing you.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, her gaze curious. “For what purpose?”

He ran at her waving the sword. “To see if you are really father’s daughter.”

She chuckled at that and dodged each attempt to cut her. “Trust me short-stack, I’m Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

Her insult seemed to set him off and he swung the sword wildly. “I am not short!”

(Y/N) grunted as the blade grazed her arm, and she clenched her jaw. “Alright. I’m done entertaining you.”

She let him come to her, then she twisted, wrenching the sword from his grip before tossing it away and coming back around. She gripped him by the collar and used the momentum to slam him to the ground before pulling his arms behind him and putting her knee in his back.

It all happened within seconds, and he didn’t know how to respond other than to cry out in anger. “Let go!”

She pulled his arms tighter until he stopped squirming and she leaned down. “Take a chill pill, runt.” He still cried out in rage at the name, and she heard someone grunt a few feet from her.

“Let him up, (Y/N).”

She looked up to see her father and Alfred walking towards her. She obeyed, rolling away from the boy and to her feet. “I was wondering where you were.”

Bruce nodded to Damian, who was pulling himself off the floor in a rather heated fashion. “We were trying to find out where Damian had gone.”

(Y/N) eyed him for a moment before murmuring, “So, he really is your kid?”

Damian cut Bruce off, spitting, “Are you jealous?”

She looked at Damian and snorted. “Not even an ounce short-cake.” (Y/N) laughed at the way his face pinched in rage, and she turned to Bruce. “You just can’t help collecting them, can you?” He glared at her and she laughed, walking over and nudging him. “Smile a little, Scrooge. Your face will get stuck like that if you don’t.”

He sighed, and muttered, “I don’t know what to do with him.”

(Y/N) glanced at the boy who was picking up his sword. “Too angry?”

“Belligerent is more like it.”

She chuckled and patted his back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him.”

“(Y/N) I don’t think—”

“Relax, dad. I handled Dick’s anger, didn’t I?”

“Damian’s got Dick beat by a longshot. I don’t think he knows any demeanor other than attack.”

(Y/N) waved as she walked towards Damian. “No one’s able to beat Dick’s anger. No one in a million years could reach the level of pissed off Dick Grayson stays at.” Bruce grinned as he watched (Y/N) take the sword and move Damian towards the stairs. “C’mon pint-sized. We’re going to explore Gotham.”

“I do not want to go.” He retorted, pulling away from her.

She grasped the back of his neck like a puppy and held him firmly as they walked and she quipped, “I don’t really give a fuck whether you want to or not. You’ve been raised by homicidal psychopaths since you were born.” She looked down at him. “You need to see the real world.”

“My grandfather and mother aren’t psychopaths!”

“Oh really? So killing people for money or because honor demands it, isn’t psychopathic traits? What about when Ra’s kills people because they disrespect him?”

“That is different!”

“I mean you don’t see me poppin’ caps in people’s asses when they call me a whore, do you?”

Bruce watched the two of them climb the stairs, arguing, and he sighed, sensing Alfred walk next to him.

“Almost reminds you of Master Dick and Miss (Y/N), doesn’t it Master Bruce?”

He looked at Alfred, then smiled and nodded. “In every way, shape, and form.”

Alfred smiled. “It is such a good thing that Miss (Y/N) is the oldest. The boys have needed her.”

“She’s their protector.”

Alfred paused, resting a hand on his shoulder; Bruce met his gaze and saw such a solemnity in them as he said, “She is everyone’s protector, Master Bruce. Even yours.” Alfred walked away, then Bruce turned and looked at the photo resting on the desk. It was the first photo he and (Y/N) had taken in their suits.

He smiled at it and nodded. “That she is.”

2K notes · View notes

moonypadsandprongs · 3 years

Text

it’s yours.

Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

summary: miscommunication and a lot of unexpressed feelings lead to these two best friends having some issues

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst, fluff, cussing, mentions of food, mentions of crying.

A/N: this is the first fic i’m posting on this blog and i really hope you enjoy it!!

Maybe there was something about the way he existed. Effortlessly breathing in the world, day by day. He was poetry. Looking at him was like being washed over by waves of salt water, or being hit by fresh air when you’ve been stuck inside for days. Talking to him brought about the same tranquility you’d get from laying down in a forest listening to the ambience. Thinking about him was standing out in the rain in mid November. This boy is and will always be the effort of my existence.

I don't think I started out loving him like this. And I don't think that he will ever love me like this. It’s like he just happened and I was stuck when he did. I walked into a random train car in my first year and ended up meeting four of my favorite people ever. My best friends became so 5 years ago and I couldn’t be more thankful for that. I just wish that I didn’t love being their friend so much. And while that is a rather strange statement, I mean that the main reason I could never outwardly love my lycanthrope friend is our friendship.

As I dawn on these thoughts, as I do very frequently, a certain dark haired friend of mine barges into my dorm room.

“I swear y/n every time I come in here you’re doing something strange.” he says with a laugh as he shakes his head.

“I was just laying here Siri”

“I know. You were laying there. Doing nothing. It’s strange.” he states as I feel my mattress dip on my left.

“It’s not strange, you just don’t know how to sit still.” I reply with a smile

“Very true y/n, very true” he sighs. After a long pause I speak up.

“Alright what's up with you?” I ask as I sit up and cross my legs facing his horizontal form.

“Can I not just come visit one of my best friends at random moments in the day?”

“Oh no you can, and you do…very frequently. But with the way you ran in here, I can tell somethings up” I say.

He sat up slowly, facing me. Sirius has had this look on his face, one I had seen only two other times during our friendship. Firstly, when they told me that Remus was a werewolf and they had become illegal animagi right after he had gotten so hurt during a full moon that he spent three weeks in the hospital wing. And secondly, when he showed up back at Hogwarts and broke down telling me about how he got kicked out and disowned by his parents. So this look on his face changed the mood very quickly.

“Alright look,” he said lowly, “I know this is going to sound strange, it is strange. But bare with me.” he paused and took a deep breath. “Remus wants you to sit out for this next full moon”

I blinked, stunned by his words.

“Look it’s complicated alright, but I need you to trust that it’s for a good reason” he spat out quickly. We sat there for a moment, I stared at him while he was waiting for a response. I was trying to grasp what he was telling me.

“Why?” my voice cracked out. I was holding back tears thanks to a few words, and Godric knows I loathe crying. It seems stupid, like it’s nothing to get upset over, but this means so much. They told me about Remus two months after they started helping him. I spent the next month learning the ins and outs of transfiguration, and I barely slept. It took me one month to be able to successfully transfigure myself into a fox. They would have told me sooner but Rem was so scared he made them wait to tell me, but once he got hurt, they couldn’t hold it in.

But ever since then, we were a family. I couldn’t do life without them. We have been through everything together and helping Remus during the full moon was almost like our glue. It was so personal, so specific to just us that being told to sit out made me feel like I almost wasn’t good enough. Like I wasn’t a part of that anymore. Like Remus just didn’t want me around. And that hurt like hell.

“It’s complicated y/n” he said.

“That’s not an answer” I replied. I looked down at my hands, focusing on steadying my breathing, “What did I do?” I asked as I looked back up at him.

He knew me too well to not be able to see the hurt and confusion that I couldn’t keep off of my face.

“You didn’t do anything I promise” he took a deep breath and sighed, “Look I can’t tell you why, it’s not me that made this decision, and I promised I wouldn’t tell you”

“Why can't he just tell me himself? He sent you to do his fucking dirty work? To tell me to stay away? He could have done it and I would have gotten the same message.” I spat out, looking away.

“No y/n it’s not like that, he doesn’t want you to stay away, he just wants you to stay here for the next shift. He’s still your friend, one of your best friends” He reassured. It didn’t work though. There was no reassuring happening here.

“No it doesn’t make sense, if there is something I did, or something that happened, to make him so uncomfortable with the idea of me being there for the shift and he can’t even tell me about it himself, then i’ll keep my damn distance.”

A tear slid down my face and I stood up, making my way to my door, when Sirius grabbed my arm turning me around.

“Please stop, don’t push yourself away from him, he needs you” he whispered.

“Obviously Sirius, he fucking doesn’t”

I snatched my arm away and marched out of my dorm room.

_______________________________________________________________________

I spent the rest of my Saturday hiding in the astronomy tower until dinner.

It didn’t make any sense, we were fine until this. Nothing had happened, we didn’t get into arguments, we were just fine. And then out of nowhere he springs this on me? Actually he doesn’t even do it, he sends Siri to do it for him. It’s like I just got kicked out of a band.

Walking into the dining hall, I realized that I have no one to sit with. I can’t sit with the boys, obviously. And I would sit with Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas, but they sit with the boys. There is no option here, because these are my friends. No one else.

I stood there, staring at everyone, no one saw me yet as I was contemplating my options. Then, of course, Peter looked up from the table making eye contact with me. Sirius must have told them what I said because the look on his face was solemn. James followed the trail of Peter's vision, and once his head fully turned towards me, Remus snapped in my direction. Immediately, I turned around and moved towards my dorm.

I can’t do this. I care about him, more than anything else, Godric, I’m in love with him. And this is what happens? I can’t do it. Simple as that. I made it halfway to my dorm when I heard fast footsteps running towards me. I spun around and was faced with the scraggly boy.

“Save it Remus, I’m going to my dorm” I tried to turn around when he moved himself in front of me. Staring at me.

He stayed looking at me, guarding me from the rest of my path, not speaking for a few moments. Just staring.

“Please” he whispered, obviously out of breath from his sprint across Hogwarts. “Please just come to dinner”

“No, you had Sirius make it abundantly clear that I am not wanted” I replied softly. I wasn’t harsh, or visibly angry. He is completely entitled to not want me around, but I deserve better than being informed of that second hand.

“No y/n you are wanted, I get that it’s confusing but please, just come to dinner” he pleaded to me.

I averted my eyes, and he bent his knees to get on my level, moving his face in front of mine. I looked at him, really looked at him. He grabbed my shoulders, but I couldn’t do it. I pushed myself out of his arms, his touch, something I never saw myself being strong enough to do.

“Remus, it’s fine. You don’t have to want me there, it isn’t about me. I-” My voice cut itself off. Man this hurt, “I can take a hint, don’t try to save face when the message has already gotten across.” I moved around him and walked to my dorm.

And once I got there, I laid on my bed and sobbed myself to sleep.

_______________________________________________________________________

I didn’t talk to Remus at all for the next three weeks. I cried a lot. Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas were with me most of the time. They all knew how I felt about him. I couldn’t tell the boys, and I never would, but since I realized I liked him in second year they've known about it. They knew this was hard for me. I only saw Siri, James, and Peter in between classes. They made sure to spend time with me since I wouldn’t go near them during our classes or in the great hall. If Remus was with them, I was with the girls. Or I was on my own.

Being alone is a strange concept to me. I’ve spent so much of my career here with people at all times, so it’s weird. I was rarely ever left alone before this, and I can’t say that I prefer it this way.

Remus has tried to corner me, to talk I guess. But every time, I maneuvered my way out of it. I couldn’t listen to him try and make things better when they weren’t. He doesn’t want me around plain and simple. And he won't tell me what I did wrong, and honestly I'm at a point where I don’t think I did. I have thought about the weeks leading up to this, over and over again, and I can’t come up with anything. If anything, Rem and I were closer than we had ever been right before he had Sirius spring it all on me.

If he wants me around with him and the boys, he can get one of them to tell me like he did before. Because I really don’t have it in me to look him in the eye while he makes excuses.

Laying in my bed, pondering my life choices, I wondered why I still loved him. Why despite all of this, I missed him more than I missed having dry eyes. More than I missed my family back home. As I thought about it, frantic knocks found themselves upon my door.

I got up, making my way to the door when they became louder, faster. Then a voice from the other side sounded.

“Y/n open the fucking door. Please open the door” the voice was raw, distressed.

It was Remus.

I stopped short of the door, my hand stopped in the air, so close to the knob.

“I know you’re there, Lily already told me you were here.”

Traitor.

“What do you want, Remus?” I spoke through the wood.

“I’ll tell you when you open this damn door. I could take it off the hinges, I will if I have to” he said.

I paused, contemplating. Maybe I could listen. Just once. I shouldn’t, I should let him deal with the fact that he pushed me away despite everything we’ve been through together. For forcing me out of the family I was always so grateful for. For Making me sob until I couldn’t anymore. That full moon that they did without me was terrible. I have never cried so hard in my life. I really shouldn’t have opened the door. But I did.

All he did was stare at me. He stood there, tall and gorgeous, and he just looked at me. I moved to the side of the door frame to let him in. He walked into the room and sat on the foot of my bed, again, just looking at me.

I felt so vulnerable under his gaze. So open. He could tell so much about me with just one look.

“I think that I should say a few things,” he whispered.

“I don’t know what there is to say Rem” I responded, looking down at him.

“So much y/n, there is so much I need to say. So much I need you to say.”

His voice was so full of desperation to be heard that I didn’t expect him to need words from me.

“What should I say? What is it you want to hear from me?” I asked.

He reached out, his hands grabbing mine as he stood, towering over me.

“I want you to say that you’ve missed me” he whispered.

“Of course I’ve fucking missed you Rem” I pulled my hands from his and his shoulders drooped, “But you’re the one that decided to push me away, I didn’t want this” I exclaimed.

“No, I didn’t push you away, you blew this all out of proportion and took it for something it wasn’t” his voice was raised. He was upset. Upset, and blaming this on me.

“Are you trying to blame this on me? You couldn’t even tell me yourself, you couldn’t look me in my eyes and tell me how you felt. You pushed me out of one of the most important parts of your life and couldn’t do it yourself Remus. And it’s my fault? No-”

He cut me off and yelled over me,

“I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU Y/N!”

I stared at him, shocked and confused.

“I needed you to stay away from me last month. I had this feeling, this really terrible feeling, that something bad was going to happen” he was animated, his hands flying everywhere as he frantically spoke. “Usually I can tell how bad a shift is going to be, you know that”

He paused to catch his breath but he wasn’t done.

“I knew it had something to do with you alright?”

“How? It doesn’t make sense to me, none of this does”

“Thats because you fucking jumped to conclusions and you still have it in your head that I don’t want you in my life. Y/n I want you in my life so fucking bad you have no idea.” his eyes were blown, and he shook his head “I couldn’t stop thinking about you during the last shift, it’s like that side of me knows what I love and it wants to take it from me so badly”

“You don’t love me. Not in the way that would affect you that much, to creep into your thoughts during a shift. There’s no way. You’ve told me before that all you think about is the pain.” I said

“Lately all I can think about is you. Every time, thinking about you makes it better.” he replied softly “How would you know how I Love you? How do you think I love you?” he asked.

“Like a friend. I always thought that you loved me like a friend.” I answered, unable to meet his eyes.

“And what if I told you I didn’t?”

“I would be severely hurt by that, Remus.” I finally pulled my own head up despite the weight to meet his stare.

“No, not that I didn’t Love you at all, but that I loved you as more than a friend?”

There is no way.

“Remu-” I started

“You’re gonna tell me that I'm wrong and that I don’t know what I'm talking about but I do. Y/n I am absolutely in love with you. I always have been, I just haven’t always known it. I love everything about you, your soul, your ambition, your heart. All I can do is think about you, about kissing you. I worry for you nonstop, day in and day out. And the last three weeks have been absolute hell. I can’t pretend like my heart is my own anymore, not when it has made itself clear in telling me that it’s yours. Whether you’d have it or not, it’s yours.”

My own heart has completely fallen out of my chest.

I have imagined him saying these words to me so many times, that this doesn’t seem real. I think he took my stunned silence as an answer as he muttered

“Alright” and he made for the door.

He didn’t even get to touch the doorknob when I grabbed him by his harm, turned him around, and kissed him as my hands made their way to his face.

Once he realized what was happening, his arms wrapped around me and his lips moved with mine and I was melting in his hands.

He pulled away and looked at me. Really really looked at me. My eyes searched his for any sign of what he was thinking.

“Is something wrong? Did I-” I started to say as I pulled away, sacred I had messed this up. But as I moved away he pulled me back into another kiss, this one passionate and desperate.

He pulled away again and I hated it. He leaned his forehead against mine and said,

“I Love you, more than anything in my life, I love you.”

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