#guess we wait another month…sigh

[hearteyedfeelings]

Totally didn’t want to see Laura on this month’s 4SD…wasn’t waiting and counting down the days till the next one at all.

Totally not disappointed we have to wait another month to get all the details on the kiss.

Totally not upset.

Totally.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[tender-rosiey]

“OH GOD! IT’S WALKING?!”

— baby’s first steps with gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter simply adores her father, and she is almost as energetic as him. you recall multiple times when he would pick her up smiling, and she would hold his face giggling and smiling just as much.

it’s such a cute scene, and you have at least 6 similar photos.

so yeah, it doesn’t surprise you that she keeps looking at the door, waiting for him to come back from his mission.

you’re both sitting on the ground, a little distance from the door. you lightly tickle her, “you wanna see dada?”

she looks up to you then looks to the door and murmurs, “dada.”

“he will be here soon; I promise,” you press a kiss to her cheek, and she squeals. soon, the door clicks and it slowly opens to reveal your dear husband who’s holding what you think are bags of sweets, toys, and souvenirs.

“the world’s best dad and husband is here!” he announces brightly. quickly, you get your phone out to record yet another cute moment between your daughter and your husband.

however, neither you nor your husband expected your little girl to stand up excitedly and try to waddle her way to her dad.

“dada! dada!” she says as she hurriedly stumbles and waddles her way to him.

satoru kneels down on the ground, opening his arms widely as he grins, “yes, dada! come to dada, baby!”

successfully, the girl stumbles into satoru’s arms and giggles as he peppers her face with kisses.

he looks up to you with a pout, shifting d/n into one arm, “excuse me, but I would like my two favorite girls to be in my arms, right now!”

you chuckle and settle into his embrace and he presses a kiss to the top of her head and your own.

d/n gives him a kiss—more like simply put her mouth on his cheek—and nuzzles into his chest. satoru grins before looking at you, “she is so cute!”

you quip with a big smile, “I got that on video!”

“you and your gorgeous mind,” he hums as he kisses your cheek.

NANAMI KENTO:

“kento, you’re going to grow grey hair early like this.”

honestly, you can’t blame him for worrying like this. you were finally going on vacation, so your husband wanted everything to be organized.

the last thing he needs is a headache after he finally got rid of the walking one (read: gojo).

he sits down, sighing, “I know; I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”

you chuckle, and settle down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “don’t worry,” you say, “we checked everything over a million times. nothing will go wrong.”

nanami smiles tiredly before pulling you into a gentle kiss, “well, I guess you’re right,” he looks around for a moment, “where is d/n?”

“she is playing with her toys on the mat; why?”

“she is not on the mat.”

“she is not on the what?!” you yell, bolting out of your seat and frantically searching for her, “d/n, honey, where are you?!”

“y/n, calm down!” your husband tries to comfort you, “she is still in the house, so don’t stress about it; we will find her.”

as if on cue, a giggle and a coo are heard behind nanami. he turns to find the culprit, his 10 months old girl grinning. she squeals and tries to walk towards him, hands eagerly reaching out for him.

she is stumbling a bit, and her steps are clumsy, and nanami couldn’t have been prouder.

he smiles fondly, “good girl, d/n,” he opens his arms, encouraging, “you can do it.”

she flails her arms as she giggles, “da-dada!”

d/n finally reaches his leg and holds onto it for dear life. she starts swaying as she looks up at him, “dada!” he bends down to kiss the top of her head.

she hums happily, before waddling towards you, worried, “mama?”

you breathe a sigh of relief and hold her in your arms, “you got me worried, baby,” you stroke her hair and she nuzzles into your embrace, little hands gripping your shirt tightly.

nanami lets out a chuckle as he watches your daughter starts to fall asleep in your arms.

he moves to hug you two, and hums with content, “and you say that I am the worrywart.”

GETO SUGURU:

“y/n, what makes you so sure that they will start walking soon?” your husband says as he watches his two little girls play in the garden.

he already had nanako and mimiko, but god chose to grace him with his own pair of twins.

he couldn’t be happier, especially with way the twins both care for each other and beam whenever they see him.

he also adores seeing them play with you; it brings a type of serenity to his heart.

you chuckle, “call it a mother’s instincts.”

suguru rolls his eyes and pulls you by the waist, “you showing off, pretty?”

“nope! just asserting dominance.”

with a roll of his eyes, he gives you a peck on the nose. the both of you then settle down on the grass as well, quietly watching the girls try to chase—wait what chase?

suguru and you lock eyes, and he quickly scrambles to get the camera. meanwhile, you’re trying to encourage the girls to continue their walking, “who’s winning, girls?”

each one of the stumbling babies yells out a—supposedly—‘me!’. they‘re both squealing as they walk around.

soon enough, suguru makes an appearance and starts recording, “I am gonna get you!”

the girls squeal and try their best to run away from the big bad monster.

the very cute thing that even has suguru pausing in his chase is that when one of them falls, the other waits for her or tries to help her up.

of course, the latter mostly results in both of them falling on their small little bums. luckily, they clumsily stand up instead of crying their eyes out.

they get tired eventually though, so they waddle their way to you. both of them sit beside you and rest their heads on your lap.

suguru stands in front of you, hands on his hips, “you leaving me out of this group cuddle?”

your twins perk up and turn their heads to peak at him and they giggle when he pouts. still, they open their little arms for their dad to join the family hug, “dada! hug!”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your husband is not exactly the most enthusiastic father.

he wasn’t that affected by your son’s first word being dada, and a lot of things that you can’t be bothered to think about.

so yeah, you’re left with the role to be the encouraging parent, and to hype your son whenever he accomplishes something.

so obviously, your son adores you more than he does his father. however, there is no denying that sukuna’s genes are indeed strong.

despite the kid’s beaming smile, he could be choking a snake. it actually reminds you of that one hercules scene.

your son also has a quicker development than most kids, but it doesn’t lessen the excitement when he finally took his first steps.

you held onto sukuna’s arms, pointing at your boy, “sukuna, look, he is walking!”

“so?”

you pause then look at your husband, “what do you mean ‘so’?” you grin, “they’re his first steps, you silly goose!”

sukuna frowns, “I am not a silly goose,” he then rolls his eyes, “he was going to start walking sooner or later anyway, woman.”

you huff, “you’re no fun.”

however, you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer as you hear the scream of one of the servants. you and your husband are looking towards them, and—suffice to say—it’s a memorable scene.

your son, who just started walking, is somehow holding a wooden pickaxe and waddling his way behind the servant.

he is grinning and squealing too like he isn’t about to beat up an innocent person (it reminds you of something or rather someone).

the servant is surprisingly terrified form the kid as she screams, “my lady, please save me!”

you have no idea how a grown woman is terrified of a one year old, but you will give her the benefit of the doubt that he is, after all, the son of the king of curses.

you sigh with a chuckle and walk towards them, “on my way.”

the kid squeals, waddling quicker after the servant who’s about to shit her pants.

meanwhile, sukuna is smirking proudly as he watches his son, “now, that’s my kid.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[gomtotemeal]

And so a month after they built the fifth Wal-Mart in our county, a little coffee shop opened just a few yards away.  

My coworker Rick said it looked like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb any surrounding properties.

“The coffee shop?” I asked.

“No, Wal-Mart is the amoeba.”

“Oh.”

When I got back to my desk, I typed ‘amoeba’ into Google and realized that I had incorrectly pictured a centipede.

“To hell with Rick,” I thought. “I don’t need any more friends, anyway. I’m on friend overload.”

At dinner that night, the Wal-Mart came up again when my wife Diane mentioned how ugly it was to see another gigantic shopping center taking up space in our town.

“It looks like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb that little coffee shop,” I said. “And then the coffee shop is like a centipede.”

“I don’t think amoebas eat centipedes. And besides, that’s the point.”

Diane went on to explain that the coffee shop, though legitimate and functioning by all measures, was really an art piece constructed by a group of private donors in response to the new Wal-Mart.

“The idea is that we’re intentionally not supposed to go to the coffee shop. That way, Wal-Mart customers will be forced to observe the gradual decay of a local business every time they enter the store.”

“Well, I’ve been going there all week,” I said. “I think the coffee is top-notch stuff. Plus, it’s on my way to work.”

“The coffee is supposed to be mediocre,” said Diane. “Keeping within the budget of most struggling businesses. It’s supposed to be virtually undrinkable.”

“Hmm…well I really like it.”

“Well, you can’t keep going or else you’ll ruin the project.”

“This is America,” I said. “And if I want a cup of mediocre, overpriced coffee, by god I will have it!”

Over the next several months, I kept drinking the coffee. Some days I even went twice. The quality of the coffee, I was told, gradually worsened as a result of my unwavering interest, but I never noticed and so I had no choice but to doubt the rumors.

My doubt remained intact even after overhearing a private conversation between the coffee shop’s manager and the cashier. I was standing by a tree and watching a teenager back his car into another car and I guess they didn’t see me.

“I know,” said the cashier. “I’ve tried that, but it’s like he doesn’t have taste buds.”

“Well, he’s single-handedly fucking up this entire thing.”

“So what then, poison? Would he even drink poison?”

“Now, that’s an interesting idea.”

“Stupid teenage drivers,” I thought.

In the end, they poisoned the coffee. I made it a month after that, but my failing eyesight and ravaged kidneys eventually left me bed-ridden.

“Well, they just opened another location,” said Diane. “Business is booming. I hope you’re happy.”

And I wasn’t happy, but I was somehow content and I thought about everything then: Wal-Mart, art projects, even little amoebas crawling through the forest, one-hundred legs working beautifully in tandem.

“Nobody ever wins in these kinds of things,” said Diane.

“But if you had to pick a winner, you’d probably pick me because the coffee shop was on my way to work.”

Diane sighed and left the room. I dozed off and in my dream, they did pick a winner. They picked me and I was led over to a small stage to choose my prize: A brand new recliner or two new kidneys!

“The recliner,” I inquired. “How far back are we talking?”

[pepsiboyy]

WHEN THE HOUSE IS EMPTY.

pairing: soft dom!chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: when chris finally gets the house to himself for the night, he invites his girlfriend over to spend the night spoiling her rotten. warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (be smart pls), fingering, oral (fem receiving), praise, use of pet names (angel, love), cursing, fluff fluff fluff, established relationship a/n: this is my first smut on here pls bear w me... but i hope it is AWESOME i love u guys <3 please give me feedback also !! i hope this is ok . <3 3.2k words

i swallowed thickly as i grasped the straps of my backpack, standing at the front door of my boyfriend's home.

chris had texted me last night, asking if i could come spend the night tonight as his brothers had planned to do something that had to do with "business stuff".

i had never really done this sort of thing. chris and i had been together about three to four months, and we had confessed our love to one another and kissed and whatnot, but that's about it. it didn't bother either of us, we just moved at a pace we were both comfortable at.

my eyes snapped up at chris opened the door and grinned ear to ear, opening his arms wide to engulf my body into his. "hi, angel," he greeted against my ear.

i hugged his waist with a soft smile. with a deep breath, i took in the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of his shampoo.

as chris pulled away, he gently took my hand and guided me inside. once he shut and locked the front door, he reached out to take my bag from me and transport it to his bedroom.

i let out a content sigh as i took in the familiar home, but it was so different when it was just chris here. much quieter, too.

"i have such a fun night planned for us!" chris cheered as he came back up the stairs, his hands clasped together in excitement.

i couldn't help but smile warmly at him.

the white tank that hugged his torso perfectly and his black sweats that hung dangerously low kept my attention on him.

"what do you have planned?" i asked as i took a seat at the table in the kitchen, smiling warmly at him.

chris did a little dance, his slightly dampened hair flopping with each sudden movement before he halted and shot two finger guns at me. "dinner!"

i chuckled at his embarrassing dance, nodding softly and standing up. "what're we makin'?"

chris's jaw dropped. "are you kidding? i already made it." he giggled as he opened the oven to reveal a tin of fettuccini alfredo with grilled chicken, some slices of garlic bread on the side. he also went into the fridge, where behind all the different lyrical lemonade cans, there was a bowl of ceasar salad.

"did you make this yourself?" i asked, my jaw hung open in shock.

"well," he started as he trailed off, "i guess nick helped a bit.. and youtube... matt, too, sorta.."

"it looks amazing," i stood up and smiled as i wrapped an arm around chris's waist, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "i can't wait to eat!"

i moved to pull away, but chris gently took my jaw between his fingers and turned our faces together again, exchanging one quick peck to my lips. "me neither," he replied with a soft smile.

dinner was outstanding. i never could have thought that chris could put something like that together.

"blue shell!" chris's voice boomed as his hands gripped the controller in his hands.

"fuck!" i shouted, my tongue sticking out in focus as i tried my hardest to remain in first place in mario kart.

"please, please, please, please," chris chanted, his entire body straight as he was sitting at the edge of the couch. "yes!!" he shouted, flying past me in the game at the last moment to take first place. his arms flew in the air, controller loosely dangling from his fingers as he shot me a shit-eating grin.

"not fair," i stated quickly.

"it definitely is, y/n, i won fair and square." he defended, moving to hug my waist and press his nose into the crook of my neck.

i chuckled at this, a hand of mine moving to his jaw to caress his cheek softly. "fine. you win."

chris did a small fist pump before pulling away with a bright smile.

we sat like that for a few moments, eyes locked on one another before he gasped at the song that came on. "oh my god, i fucking love this song." he stated quickly as he took my hands and stood to his feet, dragging me up with him.

i gasped at the sudden movement, my smile never leaving my face as i laughed beside him.

3 nights by dominic fike had started playing in the speaker that chris had set up, which was playing ambient music most of our time tonight. he turned it up and smiled widely as he held my hands, waving them around and biting his lip into a wide smile.

i couldn't help but smile at him, the way his curly hair bounced with each silly dance he did, his fingers never unlocking from mine. every once in a while he would stop for a breath before starting again, his eyes locked on mine.

i did my best to keep up, jumping around with him and waving my arms as we both loudly sang the words. no matt to give us shit for being too loud in the living room today.

the song eventually came to an end, both of us panting softly as we both smiled at one another. a soft chuckle escaped both of us, before the next song began playing.

i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys?

"since when do you listen to this?" i chuckled.

"i- it's a good song," chris defended, his cheeks growing pink as he moved his hands to gently take my waist. "also because it's one of your favorites."

i smiled warmly at him. "alright, buddy," i smiled. i moved my arms up to rest on his shoulders, my hands connecting behind his head as i looked up at him and chuckled. "are we slow dancing in your living room?"

"maybe?"

"is this your idea of a smooth move?" i joked, a soft giggle leaving me as chris's face burnt up.

"hey, let a man live." he defended, his thumb gently rubbing circles on my back as we swayed softly.

i had to give it to him - i was having a great time with him.

what started as me being a nervous wreck for whatever reason resulted in me having an amazing time.

"y/n," chris stated softly, dragging me out of my thoughts. i locked eyes with him, smiling. "i love you," he whispered softly.

i could feel my cheeks heat up. "i love you too, chris." i smiled as i gently moved a hand to bury into his hair, gently running my fingers through it. "i've had a great time so far tonight."

chris smiled at this, nodding softly as he removed a hand from my waist to gently press against my cheek, holding my face there softly. "can i kiss you?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

i nodded softly as i closed my eyes and leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of us.

chris's thumb gently grazed my cheek as he kissed me softly, his eyes closed.

no words could express the feelings i was feeling right now.

feeling a bit bold, my arms tightened around him as i deepened the kiss and tilted my head softly against him.

i could feel chris's lips curve into a small smile as he moved his hand from my waist to my lower back, his lips working against mine in sync with me.

when he gently took my bottom lip between his, i parted my lips softly as our tongues collided.

a few more moments went by and we pulled away, both with heavy breaths and a string of saliva that kept us connected for a brief moment.

we stared at each other for a brief moment before i took a deep breath. "chris," i started, before taking his hand in mine and interlocking our fingers, "i'm, uhh... i'm ready.. if you wanna-"

"me too," he quickly stated, a bright smile on his face as he tightened his grip on my hand and began walking towards the steps downstairs, which i followed and giggled as he tripped slightly on the way to his room.

"watch your step, chris!"

"i'll be fine," he smiled as he opened the door and turned us around so that my back faced his bed, his foot lifting off the ground to kick the door shut behind him. the door shut a little louder than he had anticipated, causing us both to flinch. "oops."

"chris-" i scolded, but i was quickly cut off when he pressed his lips to mine once more, gently pushing me against the mattress and hovering over me.

his hand gently grazed my hip and toyed with the hem of my shirt. he pulled away from the kiss to glance down at his hand, and back into my eyes. "is this okay?" he asked softly, which i quickly responded with a nod. "tell me if anything isn't okay, alright?" he stated softly, and gently began lifting my shirt off of my body.

the comfort of chris's voice was enough for me to let him do whatever he had wanted.

the cold air of the room kissed my skin, causing a shiver to run through my body. but every goose bump on my skin melted away when i stared up at chris, who was pulling his own shirt above his head.

"you okay?" he questioned, leaning down again to caress my cheek softly.

"i promise everything's fine," i reassured with a shy smile, and chris smiled back, pressing a kiss to my lips before he pulled away.

he kissed against my neck softly, sending shivers through my body. his lips moved down to my shoulder, down to my collarbone and down the center of my chest.

i felt like he was exploring the entirety of my body.

"can we take this off, love?" he asked, gently tugging at the strap to my bra.

i nodded quickly as i sat up and reached behind me to unclasp it, but chris's hands came around mine as he did it for me.

i felt my face heat up as it dropped, and my arms instinctively moved up to cover myself.

"shhh," chris reached to my wrists and gently lowered my arms, his nose moving up to press against the shell of my ear. "you're gorgeous. no need to hide, not ever." he gently pressed a kiss to my jaw before working down again, his lips moving to press against the skin of my left breast.

my breath hitched slightly at the feeling as i instinctively moved a hand to his hair.

the moment his lips pressed to my nipple, i felt my eyes scrunch shut as i arched my back slightly into him. the feeling was so familiar yet so unfamiliar.

chris's tongue circled around it, his eyes shut as he ran his hand up my stomach to gently knead at my right side.

i let out a shaky moan, one hand burying into his brunette locks as the other dove into the sheets.

chris eventually switched to give the other side the same attention, and after a few moments, i shakily lifted my hips to meet his, which caused a groan to erupt from us both.

chris lifted his head and moved back up to press a soft kiss to my lips, his eyes locked on mine. he admired me for a moment before his hands met with the hem of my pajama pants. "may i?" he questioned softly, his voice groggy. i nodded quickly.

chris gently tugged my shorts down and let out a shaky breath, simply at the sight of the thin, deep red fabric that hugged my hips.

i smiled softly at him. "like what you see?" i joked, and chris simply shot me a knowing glance.

"always, angel." he stated softly before he shifted his body on the bed.

"wait- what are you-?"

"takin' care of my girl," chris stated softly, his eyes moving to meet mine as his face was now inches away from my core. "is this okay?"

i blushed darkly. i was no expecting all this. "yeah, yeah that's perfect," i breathed, shifting my hips against the sheets slightly.

chris moved to press soft kisses against the insides of my thighs, his eyes closed. one hand found its way to move my underwear to the side before both of his hands wrapped around my thighs to lock them in place.

my eyes squeezed shut and my entire body shuttered as he pressed his lips where i needed him most, his tongue gently gliding along my folds until they reached my clit, where he sucked softly. i tossed my head back and released a moan as a hand subconsciously moved to lace into chris's hair. "shit." i breathed.

chris's eyes met mine for only a second before he unlinked a hand from my thigh, pressing a finger against my folds.

i shuttered slightly before a gasp escaped me at the feeling of his finger entering me, my eyes squeezing shut.

"is this okay?" was all he said, his breath hot against my clit.

"fuck, yes," i moaned softly, my volume increasing as chris gently pressed a second finger inside my cunt and began curling them gently.

my back arched as i threw my head back, letting out a shaky breath before i bucked my hips to the best of my ability. my hand gently tugged at his hair as i guided his lips back to my clit.

chris seemed to get the hint, his tongue beginning to lap against me as he sucked on the bud, his fingers pumping and curling inside of me.

"shit, chris-" i gasped as i tugged at his hair softly.

chris removed his fingers and repositioned his body before his tongue entered my cunt, his thumbs prying me open as his nose occasionally grazed my clit.

i let out a string of moans, my hips lifting off the bed and into his face as i warned him of my release.

"i- i'm close, chris, fuck," i breathed.

with the continuous thrust of his tongue, chris moaned softly against me, sending a vibration against my core.

with a gasp and a tight grip on chris's hair, i clenched around his tongue and released my juices against his tongue, my eyes lidded as i panted softly.

chris helped me ride out my high, his hand gently caressing my thigh as he removed himself. he looked at me and licked his lips, a hand reaching to his shirt that he had previously removed. he used it to wipe off his mouth before he pulled away to begin sliding off his black sweats.

"you could have gotten a towel or something," i teased.

"that's too far." he defended, winking softly. "you still okay?" he questioned, gently tossing his sweats onto the floor.

i nodded quickly. "i promise, i-" i took a deep breath, my cheeks still pink from a few moments prior. "as long as i'm with you, anything is okay, chris."

chris simply smiled softly at me. "that's what i love to hear, angel." he whispered before he gently tugged his boxers down, his member meeting with his skin as a small dribble of precum escaped the tip.

your eyes locked on him, causing a chuckle to escape chris. "let's be polite, now," he whispered, moving his fingers to press against your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes and press his lips against yours lovingly. he pulled away and shifted between my legs, smiling softly. "you ready?" he asked softly, and i nodded eagerly.

"ready," i whispered, moving my hand to gently interlock with his.

chris used his free hand to gently part my legs and press his tip against my opening, making my breath hitch.

he slowly pressed into me, deep groans and moans sounding from both of us as chris's bangs hung over his eyes. "fuck," he grunted as he continued to move into me, before he bottomed out and stared at me.

with a few moments to adjust, i shot him a soft nod before he began to move slowly. "shit," he moaned softly, his grip tightening on my hand as he rocked his hips against mine.

our eyes locked, and i swear that did something to chris, because his entire face beamed red as he picked up his pace and pressed his forehead against mine.

a low moan escaped chris's throat as he thrusted into my cunt, my eyes rolling back as i allowed my jaw to hang open. a series of moans escaped us both.

chris gently unlocked our fingers to get a grip on my thigh to lift it. he held up my leg, now hitting a new spot inside of me that made my back arch off of his mattress. "oh fuck," i moaned, my eyes squeezing shut as he pounded against my gspot. "right there, chris," i moaned, causing chris to pick up his pace and slam his cock harder into me.

my eyes teared up slightly at the euphoric feeling, my heart racing as i felt my stomach tie into a knock. chanting his name, i gripped the sheets and clenched against him, resulting in a deep moan from chris's lips.

"fuck, angel, careful," he grunted against my ear, his breath heavy against my shoulder.

i gasped and let out a shaky moan, moving to grip chris's shoulder. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," i breathed, and chris nodded softly.

"me too, love, fuck," he moaned softly, his hips rutting into mine.

a few more thrusts resulted in my voice booming as i cried out, the knot in my stomach snapping as i released all over chris's cock, my eyes squeezing shut.

chris's hips sputtered at the pornographic moan, his throat releasing a deep moan as he pulled out and released against my stomach and chest, his hand moving to gently pump at his member.

chris moved to lay beside me, our eyes shut as he laid beside one another catching our breaths.

i let out a shaky sigh as i turned to chris and smiled weakly, sleepily.

chris turned and met my eyes, a sleepy smile on his face, but it was the same as every other smile he had given me today. "how do you feel?" he questioned, his hand moving to lock with mine again.

i chuckled breathlessly, nodding softly. "fuckin' awesome," i chuckled as i leaned forward to kiss his cheek gently.

chris smiled warmly at me before he reached to get a few tissues, wiping off my skin the best he could. "you did so good for me, angel." he whispered, moving a hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "fuck, i'm tired." he admitted.

i scoffed at him as i opened my arms. "me too, chris."

chris bit his lip as he shifted to rest his head against my chest, his eyes closing as he hugged my waist tightly. "i love you s'much." he whispered softly.

i smiled and bit my lip as i kissed the top of his head. one hand threaded through his hair as the other gently rubbed his side. "i love you so much, chris.. thank you for tonight." i whispered.

chris nodded lazily in response, and i chuckled lightly. "get your beauty sleep."

the two of us slowly fell asleep, skin to skin as we breathed together and slept soundly.

maybe i should spend the night at my boyfriend's more often.

taglist;; @sturnsxplr-25 @vampiree-555 @wh0resstuff @jetaimevous @sturnioloshacker @lovesturni0l0s @sarosfilms @sturnclouds @l34n

[atlabeth]

family line

pt 2

pairing: spencer reid x gideon!reader

a/n: pardon the end where i just go into endless conversation for no reason but i cannot control myself. anyways thank you sosososo much for all the love on the last part and gideon!reader as a whole it makes me so happy!! enjoy some dad-daughter-spence car convos(arguing) and some elle time

wc: 3.8k

warning(s): the usual! r and gideon argue, gideon is not a good dad(but theres some reconciliation), angst, hurt/comfort, but some fluff between r and gideon & spence. more of a set-up chapter

The drive over to the safe house is a long one, and unfortunately, not a quiet one. 

Spencer takes the back seat, leaving shotgun for you with your dad. He spends the entirety of the drive briefing you on what living in a safe house will entail, all the things you can and can’t do. 

You can’t use your phone because it could be tracked. You can’t leave the place without Spencer because you are, in fact, being stalked. You’re not to reveal anything about your location to anyone—you’re basically shut off from the world until the unsub is behind bars. 

And once he’s done briefing you, he basically starts interrogating you. 

“Have you been contacted like this before in any way?” 

You huff a laugh. “What, with creepy pictures of myself? No.” 

“Anything unsettling,” he clarifies. “A text message, a call, an email— anything that rubbed you the wrong way that you might’ve just passed off as a joke or spam.” 

“No,” you repeat. 

“You’re sure?” 

“How many times do I have to say no?” You pull your phone out of your pocket and stare at your dad. “Go through it if you want. You won’t find anything.” 

He pauses, then he nods. “Reid.” 

You shake your head with a slight laugh, then turn it over as Spencer extends a hand. He flips it open and starts to go through it, and you just cross your arms and stare out the windshield. 

“We should really hand this over to Garcia,” he says. “She’ll be able to do a lot more than I can. I don’t really—”

“Like technology, I know,” your dad finished. “We will. Just trying to get all the leads we can upfront.” 

You sigh, but you keep quiet. You guess you can’t really consider it an invasion of privacy when there’s a stalker after you. 

“We typically talk to stalking victims for a while to figure out their lifestyle and possible suspects, as well as the type of stalker we’re dealing with,” Spencer says. “We don’t exactly have the time for that here.” 

“This unsub has already been watching you for a month, maybe more,” your dad says. “He’s made his first move by reaching out to me—that means he wants us to know about him, wants you to know about him.” He glances over at you. “He wants to scare you. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction.” 

“You’re jetting me off to a safehouse before you’ve even gotten the chance to look into any leads,” you say. “It looks like we’re pretty scared, Dad.” 

“It’s preparation,” he says. “The unsub has made his first move—I’m not going to wait around for him to make another and compromise your safety.” 

“This could also be a lot more dangerous than we think,” Spencer says. You still hear him clicking through your messages, and you’re beginning to regret your decision to turn it over to him. “Our unsub could be someone after Gideon using you as collateral.” 

Your heart stops for a split second and your attention snaps to your father. “What?”

“…It is a likely option,” he says. “Very few people know you as my daughter. Someone who wants to hurt me could try to use you to do it.”

“So I was right,” you say. “This is only happening because I’m your daughter.”

“Do you want me to say yes?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Yes— I want you to admit that I’ve missed out on all the positives of you being my dad and gotten stuck with all the negatives!”

“This is not the time,” he says. 

“How is it not the time?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ve said it yourself several times— my life is in danger. There’s someone out there that might kill me to get back at you. What is a better time than this to talk about how shitty of a dad you’ve been?”

“A better time would be when we aren’t this high strung,” he says evenly. “Neither of us are thinking as properly as we should be. We don’t want to say anything we’ll regret.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll regret any of this,” you say. “After all, I could be dead soon, right? I should get all those regrets out of the way.”

“Please stop arguing,” Spencer interrupts hastily. “This— this is very uncomfortable.”

You scoff. The flames burn just as bright, but for some reason, you decide to hold them back a bit. 

“I’m sure it’s real hard for you, boy genius.”

The silence lingers. You can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Your dad, to his credit, doesn’t stoke the fire.

It looks like you’re all capable of restraint today. 

“I— I went through all her messages,” Spencer continues. It irks you that he talks like you’re not here. “There’s nothing suspicious there, at least.”

“Good,” your dad says. “I’ll hand it over to Garcia after I drop you both off.”

“We’re not gonna have a car?” you ask.

“You’ll have this one,” he says. “That’s why Agent Greenaway is following us.”

“Elle’s coming?” Spencer asks, and you see him perk up. You belatedly wonder what that deal is. 

“Just so she can drive me back to the office,” your dad says. “She offered.”

“What’s everyone else doing?” 

“Garcia is digging through some of your personal records for the team,” he says, glancing at you. “JJ is in contact with the local police stations so they’re ready once we have a profile. Morgan and Hotch should be looking through every case I’ve closed to get a running list of suspects.”

“Great,” you say as you lean back in your seat. “Nothing like getting my whole life aired out and put under a microscope.”

“It already is,” Spencer says. “You’ve got a stalker.”

“Thanks, Spencer,” you mutter. “I forgot.” 

-

The rest of the drive goes by with ease—at least, relative to how difficult you’ve made everything else. 

You’re already sick of Spencer Reid by the time you get out of the car. You don’t know how you’re going to survive such close quarters under these kinds of circumstances. 

Another car parks next to you as the three of you get out, and your eyes are drawn to the woman that steps out. 

“Easy drive?” your dad asks. 

“I was right behind you,” Agent Greenaway says. “You drive like an old man.” 

Your dad just barely smiles. “Stay with her, Elle. Reid and I are going to check the perimeter.” 

“You can’t be serious,” you cut in. 

“I already told you I’m not taking chances with this,” he says, and he takes his gun out. “This won’t take long.” 

Spencer takes his out as well—he carries it with both hands, like it’s actually weighing him down, and it’s a bit ridiculous—and they split to cover both sides of the house and the surrounding area. You sigh and shake your head as you cross your arms. 

“He’s certainly spirited,” Agent Greenaway says. 

You huff a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” 

“I’m Elle, by the way,” she says. “I know we haven’t been formally introduced.” 

You nod your acknowledgment and say your name. “Nice to meet you.” 

She turns to fully face you. “Do you mind if I say a few things?” 

“If it’s about my dad—”

“It’s not,” she interrupts with a wry smile, “I promise.” 

You shrug. “Then sure.” 

“First, I just want to ask if you’re doing alright,” she says. “You’ve gotten a lot dropped on you all at once.”

“I’m as good as I can be,” you say. 

Elle nods, and her eyes soften. “I’m not gonna tell you to take it easy on Gideon. He’s an incredible agent, but that makes it hard to be a good dad.”

You don’t say anything, and she continues. 

“My dad was on the force too. I resented him for a lot of my childhood because he was gone so often, but… then he was killed in the line of duty.”

You frown. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Elle nods in thanks. “I’m not trying to get sympathy. I’m just saying I know what it’s like.”

You shift your balance and sigh, glancing away momentarily. “Everyone here sees him as a hero, and— and he is. He started this whole thing and you all save lives every day, but it feels like he’s missed my entire life because of it.” You huff a bitter laugh. “I think you all know him better than I do.”

“I think you’re probably right,” she admits. “You deserve to be angry. And honestly, I think you deserve to hate him some for it.” 

You huff a slight laugh. “You’re the one person who hasn’t tried to make me feel bad for it.”

She shrugs. “You’re in an awful situation and it might be because of him. You don’t have to have endless grace.”

“Any chance I can get you to stay in here with me instead of Spencer?” you ask.

She smiles. “I don’t think Gideon wants to stick the two of us in a house together. But I am gonna make sure we catch this guy.”

“These kinds of assholes go after vulnerable women because it gives them the attention they crave,” she continues. “They worm themselves into their lives and disrupt it all and it makes them feel powerful—you have to play to their whims.”

“Sounds like you have a lot of experience with this,” you murmur.

“I have a lot of experience putting away sick men,” Elle says. 

“Do you have any advice, then?” you ask weakly. 

“I’ve only been around you for a few hours, but I already know you’re better and stronger than whatever bastard is after you,” she says. “He wants to control your life. Don’t let him.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “I’m… really glad you’re on my side.”

She smiles again. “Just doing my job.”

Your eyes latch onto your dad as he and Spencer come back around the front, and they both tuck their guns back into their holsters. 

“It’s all clear,” your dad says. 

“And I’m not dead,” you say. “Looks like we’re all doing good.”

He chooses to ignore you, instead looking at Elle. “Did you go over anything with her?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Just gave some advice.”

“Great,” Spencer says. “Just what I need.”

“Oh, get over yourself, Reid,” Elle says. “You’ll be fine.” 

You don’t miss the look he gives her, and your dad clears his throat. “Can you take her inside and check everything? Reid and I need to talk.” 

He frowns. “We do?” 

“Sure,” she nods. 

You stare at your dad this time, and he doesn’t entertain your annoyance with some of his own. “We’ll be in soon.” 

“Sure,” you repeat. 

You follow Elle in—you don’t feel like getting a lecture on safety just yet—and when you pass a glance over your shoulder, you meet Spencer’s eyes. He was watching you. 

His eyes dart away just as quickly, and you huff the slightest laugh. You don’t know if he’s scared of you or just tired of you already, but whichever one, you don’t really care. If you have to be stuck in this house with him, he has to be stuck in there with you too.

Elle shows you around the place, and it’s nothing special—a one story house with two bedrooms and a noticeable lack of windows, furnished plainly with a couch and a few chairs, a small kitchen table, a television. You’re honestly surprised at how nice it all is. 

But as she takes you on the impromptu tour, you can’t stop thinking about her words. You can’t stop thinking about all of it, honestly. 

A month ago, you were driving home in silence after your dad forgot about the plans you made. A week ago, you were out for drinks with friends. 

Today, you’re hunkering down in a safe house because there’s a stalker after you, and you have to do it with your dad’s stand-in kid. 

That’s what gets you, you think. That you know more about Spencer Reid than anyone at his job knows about you—that your dad ignores you in favor of his work, and instead of trying to fit you into his life, he finds an FBI replacement.

Your jaw clenches. It takes a few seconds for you to realize you’ve completely tuned out Elle, only really coming out of it when she says your name.

“Sorry,” you say. “I was distracted.” 

“I don’t blame you,” she says wryly. 

You’re about to respond when Spencer walks in with your dad. His face is slightly flushed and, as opposed to all the other times, he won’t make eye contact with you. You can only imagine what your dad decided to talk to him about. 

“You showed her around?” your dad asks. 

Elle nods. “The basics. She and Reid can figure out the rest.” 

“Thank you,” he says. He looks at Spencer, who has his hands stuffed in his pockets and is very intently focused on the wall behind you. “Help Elle get the rest of the things out of her car.”

He frowns. “Elle doesn’t need my help.”

“Come on, Reid,” she says as she starts to walk. 

He blinks and nods. “Oh. Uh— yeah.” 

You feel his eyes on you as he goes, but you don’t meet them. You just stare at your father.

“Is it my turn for a lecture?”

His eyes soften as he says your name. “This isn’t how I want things to be between us.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug, “it takes a decade or two of neglect to get here.”

“You’re right,” he says. “You wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for me. But I’m going to get you out of it.”

“I hope so,” you say. “Because I don’t really know how Doctor Reid is going to help.”

“Don’t take it out on Reid,” your dad says. “Hate me all you want, but leave him out of it.”

“You’re the one that pulled him into it,” you retort. “He’s more your kid than I am.”

“And I regret it,” he says. Your eyes widen a bit, and it actually gets you to shut up. “I regret that it took something like this for me to be a part of your life again. But I don’t want our last interaction before you’re sequestered for the indefinite future to be a fight.”

“That’s all I’m good at when it comes to you,” you mumble. The wind has been taken out of your sails considerably. 

“And I want to change that,” he says. “But first, we have to get through this. And we’re going to get through it together, sweetheart.” 

The term of affection feels strange coming from him. Ever since your teenage years, he’s felt less like your dad and more like some estranged cousin. You hate it. You hate how unfamiliar everything feels with him. Jason Gideon has been a profiler longer than he’s been a dad and it shows in your every interaction with him. 

But still, your heart aches. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“You promise?” you ask. You feel like a kid again. 

“I promise,” he says. 

Then your dad pulls you into a hug, and for a moment, you freeze. You can’t remember the last time he hugged you. 

Despite the anger inside of you, the bitterness built in your bones, you can’t help it—you hug him back. You practically melt into his arms as you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the sudden threat of tears. 

Because deep down beneath it all, you’re scared. You’re fucking terrified, actually, and right now you’re just a girl who wants comfort from her dad. 

“I love you,” he says. 

“…I love you too,” you mumble.

Neither of you pull away for a good thirty seconds. When you do, you turn around to wipe your eyes, not wanting him to see. You hear the door open and start, but it’s just Spencer and Elle with some bags and boxes. 

“Elle’s got some groceries,” your dad says, clearing his throat. “We’ll deliver more if necessary, but you’ve got the basics for a couple weeks, at least.” 

“And a whole lot of books and movies,” Spencer says, hefting the box in his hands. “Did you know that there have been approximately 122 million unique titles published since the invention of Gutenberg’s printing press in 1440?” 

“That’s less specific than usual,” Elle says. “You sure you’re feeling okay?” 

He frowns. “I couldn’t find statistics on the exact number.” 

“Why were you even looking at those statistics?” 

“I get bored sometimes.” 

Elle just laughs as they continue into the living room. You feel your dad’s eyes on you, and you sigh. 

“I’ll take it easy on him,” you say. “Mostly. Maybe.” 

And he actually smiles. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say offhandedly, but you find the slightest smile creeping on your lips as well. You kind of hate it. 

Everything else goes by relatively quickly now that you’re not arguing every single thing—you have to fight your instincts not to, but you manage—and eventually, after another lingering hug and some promises to be safe (and one from Spencer to your dad to keep you safe)—you’re alone in the house with him. 

“So,” you say as you settle on the couch, “this is what the indefinite future is going to be like.” 

“If it makes you feel better, last time we dealt with a stalker we caught them in a few days,” Spencer says. “She watched her for a good while, though.” 

“It doesn’t make me feel better,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“...Sorry.” 

You shrug your indifference and Spencer walks past you, focusing in on some of the paintings hanging on the wall. You’re sure he knows the artist, title, and meaning behind every single one, so you speak up before he can start.  

“What did you and Elle talk about?” 

“How this place doesn’t have a pool,” he says.  

You frown. “What?” 

“Nothing,” he says quickly. “What’d you and Gideon talk about?”

“We fought then made up,” you say. “It was… weird.” 

Spencer looks at you. “How?” 

You shrug again as you cross your arms. “You’ve seen how we are. We don’t exactly get along.” 

“Has he really been that bad of a dad?”

“It’s none of your business,” you say. “But… yes. He’s barely been a dad at all.” 

Spencer shakes his head. “I don’t get that. He’s so different in the field.” 

“That’s why he’s barely been a dad—because he’s so busy here.” You tilt your head. “Don’t you have some facts or whatever on the percentage of fathers that are workaholics?” 

“Well, 89% of dads work full time,” Spencer says. “And fathers typically work around 47 hours a week. But I don’t have anything on workaholics specifically.” 

“Great.” You stand up and walk over to the box of DVDs Spencer set down on the table, and you start rifling through them. “So, what’d my dad tell you about me?” 

Spencer blinks. “What do you mean?” 

“When I came in here with Elle and he kept you out there,” you say. “Did he give you the run-down? Warn you on how difficult I am to be around? Tell you that I hate you?” 

His Adam’s apple bobs. “Uh— no. He just… talked to me. Gave the rundown on everything.”

You hum. “You can tell the truth.” 

“I— I am,” he says. He’s clearly not. “He didn’t say anything bad about you. Promise.” 

“Whatever you say.” You land on a DVD and glance over at him. “How do you feel about Groundhog Day?” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t like Bill Murray.” 

You frown. “That’s ridiculous. How can you not like Ghostbusters?” 

“I love Ghostbusters.” 

“How can you like Ghostbusters but not Bill Murray?” 

“Because I like the concept more than I like him,” he says. “I love Halloween.” 

You shake your head and move on. “Who put these together?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Gideon? Or maybe some random BAU office worker.” 

“It’s an interesting compilation.” You look up at him again. “How about Dirty Dancing?” 

“No.” 

“No reasoning?”

“I don’t feel like dealing with a musical right now,” he says. 

“So you choose to deprive me of Patrick Swayze,” you tut. You grab one movie out of the back and hold it up. “If I put on Goodfellas, will you interrupt every five seconds with facts?”

“...I can push it back to every thirty seconds,” he says. 

“Five minutes,” you say. 

“One minute.” 

“Two.” 

“One forty-five?” 

“Two—take it or leave it.” 

“Technically I have all the power here,” Spencer says. “I can talk nonstop about anything. Putting down a movie narrows that down.” 

“...One fifty.” 

He nods, and you huff a disbelieving laugh as you put the DVD in the player. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re ridiculous?” 

“A lot,” he says as he sits down on the couch. “I usually get insufferable or weird or annoying, though. So ridiculous isn’t too bad.” 

“Well, you’re certainly something.” 

“That’s also not too bad,” he says. “I could even take it as a compliment.”

You sigh and pick up the remote before you sit back down. You look up at the clock on the wall and bite back a curse. 

“It’s only been ten minutes,” you mutter. 

“Ten minutes and thirty-four seconds, actually,” Spencer says. “Did you know that Scorsese actually cast real mobsters as extras? The cast members were told ahead of time so they could show the necessary respect to them while they were on set. There’s a whole mafia hierarchy, and only full-blooded Italians—”

“I haven’t even gotten to the start screen,” you interrupt in disbelief. 

Spencer shrugs. “You said every minute and fifty seconds. Not how long I could go on for.” 

You let out another sigh as he continues on. You bet Spencer could probably recite the whole movie from memory if you asked, but you honestly don’t know if you could take that. 

There’s one plus, at least. When you’ve got a human encyclopedia next to you that can spout off whatever information he wants any time he wants, you think you’re gonna have a hard time thinking too much about your stalker. 

You look over at Spencer when you finally make it to the opening scene, still talking but now about the different crime families in the United States. His eyebrows are surprisingly animated when he talks, going up and down depending on his inflection, and you find yourself thinking that it’s charming. 

It’s annoying how pretty he is, and it’s annoying how annoying he is. 

You look away. 

This is going to be a very long lockdown.

[willowsnook]

I'd like to request vodka lime in a wine glass please x

lando norris x fewtrell!sister

it's always been you

----------------------------------------------------------

The week of Silverstone, you found yourself at a cozy restaurant in London with your brother, Max, and his best friend, Lando. You were excited to see Lando since he wasn’t in London often, and the three of you had grown up inseparable. Though you drifted apart as life got busier with school and Lando’s racing, every time you reconnected, it felt like no time had passed.

"You seem a little off," Max commented, breaking you out of your thoughts. Both he and Lando were looking at you curiously from across the table. "What’s on your mind?"

"Oh, it’s nothing," you said quickly, brushing it off.

"Doesn’t seem like nothing," Lando chimed in, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You sighed, glancing down at your glass. "The bookstore I’ve been working at part-time for the last couple of years… the owners told me today that they might have to close in the next few months."

You’d worked there throughout college, and even after landing your full-time corporate job, you couldn’t give up the bookstore. The owners, an elderly couple, had become like family to you. The store was your safe haven, a place you truly loved. Your full-time job, on the other hand, left you uninspired, so the bookstore had been your refuge from the monotony of corporate life.

"I’m so sorry, Y/N," Max said softly. "I know how much you love that place."

You nodded, a bit of sadness lingering as you shifted the conversation to something lighter, trying to salvage the mood. Dinner wrapped up, and you said your goodbyes, promising to see them both at the race in a few days.

The next day, as you stocked shelves at the bookstore, the familiar jingle of the bell caught your attention. Turning around, you saw Lando standing by the door, scanning the shop. When his eyes landed on you, he smiled.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" you asked, walking over to him.

"I wanted to see what was so special about this place," he said, glancing around the cozy store.

The comforting scent of old books filled the air as soft jazz played in the background. Rain tapped gently against the large windows, and a few people sat curled up in armchairs, flipping through books under the warm glow of vintage lamps.

"I get it now," Lando said, turning back to you with a smile. "It’s very... you. Cozy."

You blushed at the compliment. "You want to grab a book while you're here? Something for the plane?"

"Sure. But I’m not touching any self-help books," he teased, and you rolled your eyes, laughing.

"Come with me, I’ve got the perfect one," you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the fantasy section. You reached for one of your favorites and handed it to him. His eyes widened at the size of the book.

"Y/N, this is huge!" he exclaimed.

"It’s so worth it," you promised. "The characters are incredible. One of them actually reminds me of you. He’s been through some rough patches and doesn’t realize how amazing he is until everyone else shows him. By the end, he becomes this confident, fearless leader. It’s... well, it’s really inspiring."

Lando was quiet as you spoke, just staring at you with a small smile. "You’re adorable when you talk about books, you know that?"

You blushed even more, mumbling a shy "Thanks" as he took the book from your hands.

"Guess I’ll have to read it then," he said, following you to the counter. "What time do you get off?"

"Not for another hour," you said, ringing him up.

"How about we grab dinner after?" he asked, surprising you.

You hesitated, usually only hanging out with Lando when Max was around. "I don’t want to make you wait."

He held up the book. "I’ve got this to keep me busy."

That evening, you and Lando went to your favorite nearby restaurant. Conversation flowed easily, just like old times.

"So, how’s the day job?" Lando asked between bites of pasta.

You shrugged. "It’s... fine. It’s just not what I thought it would be. Honestly, I wish I could work at the bookstore full-time, but, you know... it’s closing soon."

"You’ve tried to help them out, though, right?"

"Yeah, I’ve offered to handle marketing, organize events, bring in more customers, but the owners are kind of stuck in their ways. As adorable as they are, they’re not too keen on change."

Lando frowned, clearly disappointed for you. The rest of the night passed smoothly, and when he walked you back to your apartment, he kissed you on the cheek in goodbye, leaving your thoughts spinning. You had never really seen him as anything more than your brother’s best friend, but after today, you weren’t so sure anymore.

The following weekend, you arrived at the bookstore only to be greeted by Evelyn, one of the owners.

"Y/N, we need to talk," she said, pulling you aside. Your heart sank, bracing for the worst.

"I know I told you a few weeks ago that we were struggling," Evelyn began, "but... someone made a very generous donation. Enough to keep us going for quite a while."

Your heart raced. "Wait, really? Who?"

"Some young man who wanted to stay anonymous. He said that everyone deserves to do what they love."

Tears pricked your eyes. "Oh my gosh, Evelyn, that’s incredible!"

"But there’s more," she continued, her voice soft. "Art and I are getting older, and we can’t keep running this place forever. We’d like you to take over—effective immediately."

Your jaw dropped. "Wait, me? Are you sure?"

Evelyn chuckled. "Honey, you know this place better than anyone. You’ve got a business degree, and you love it here. Of course, you’re the one to take over."

You hugged her tightly, tears of happiness spilling from your eyes.

Weeks later, as you settled into your new role, you came across the “anonymous” donation in the books. $100,000. Your eyes widened. You’d assumed the donation had been a few thousand at most, but this was... insane. Then, your breath caught when you saw the signature.

Lando Norris.

You stormed out of the store, your heart pounding. That was too much money. There was no way you could accept it. Knowing he was at Max’s place, you banged on the door.

"Y/N?" Max asked, startled as he let you in.

"Where is he?" you demanded.

Lando, lounging on the couch, froze when he saw you. You grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the guest room, slamming the door behind you.

"$100,000, Lando?" you yelled. "That’s insane! Why would you do that?"

"Because it’s not just some random thing, Y/N," he said, stepping closer. "It’s something that matters to you."

You blinked, confused. "But... why does that matter to you?"

"Because you matter to me," he said softly. "Everything that’s important to you is important to me."

Your heart raced as his words sank in.

"If your dream is to run that bookstore, then that’s my dream too," Lando continued. "It’s always been you, Y/N. I’ve felt this way since we were kids. I just... never told you."

Tears welled up as you flung your arms around his neck. "Lando..."

He pulled back slightly, gazing into your eyes. "Give me a chance. A chance to be more than just your brother’s best friend."

You smiled, your heart full. "I think I can do that. As long as you finish that book."

[thedensworld]

Stay Supple | Y. Jh

Genre: fluff, humour, smut

Summary: two ordinary worker have to deal with a baby. What should they do? Stay supple!

Missing Yoon Jeonghan hour:( but having so much fun writing this?

The weather was perfect, the sun shining just enough to complement the mood. Both you and Jeonghan waved as you split from the elevator—like clockwork. You headed left towards the design team, while he turned right to finance. Just another day as two regular employees at a food label under a large South Korean company.

"What's your relationship with Ji Y/N?" Jeonghan was first asked this after the two of you were seen leaving work together.

"She's my friend," he'd answer, as simply as possible, before walking off, leaving behind a trail of curious colleagues.

But when your coworkers found out you actually knew "the pretty guy from finance," their questions were relentless: “Is he single?” “Are you two dating?”

"He's my roommate," you revealed one day, much to their shock. "And, believe me, he looks way better than he actually is."

Exposing Jeonghan's less-than-angelic personality to his adoring fans became your daily amusement. It was a shock to everyone when they realized the two of you shared a flat. You’d known each other since junior high, moving to Seoul together in pursuit of better education, career prospects, and, maybe, love. But living in the capital wasn’t some dreamy K-drama. Everything was overpriced, especially rent. So, with some initial hesitation, you two decided to share an apartment.

"You failed your test?" Jeonghan mocked you years ago, when you returned from your architecture exam. He wasn’t surprised—you were hopeless at STEM subjects, and he loved to rub it in.

"I told you she was a snake," you reminded him when he came home heartbroken after his three-month relationship in university went up in flames. She'd used him to get through finals. Classic.

There was an ongoing joke between you two: "There are two types of people in this world—smart but evil, and kind but dumb." It didn’t take much guessing which label each of you wore.

“How was work?” Jeonghan asked as you both trudged home from the bus stop, a routine you had grown used to. The walk was long, so you filled the time with idle chat, unless you'd had an argument the night before, then it was all awkward silence.

You beamed at him, barely containing your excitement. "Amazing! The project I pitched was a hit! I can practically smell a promotion coming."

Jeonghan chuckled, amused by your enthusiasm. "Good for you. Finance was a bit of chaotic today. Did you know the production costs are getting cut by 2% next month?"

Your excitement dimmed. "Wait, what?"

Jeonghan laughed at your panicked expression. "Don’t worry. We're trying to keep it from affecting your department—maybe even that project of yours."

You sighed dramatically. "You finance people really hold the whole company together, huh?"

As you reached your floor and walked down the hallway, the sound of a baby crying echoed. You grimaced and commented on how loud it was, while Jeonghan mindlessly scrolled through his phone.

“Jeonghan,” you stopped just a few feet from your door, a strange feeling twisting in your gut.

Jeonghan turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "What?" he asked, eyes still on his phone.

You pointed toward your apartment door. He finally looked up and saw what had rendered you speechless.

A baby box was sitting right there, in front of your door.

“Well, that's... unexpected,” Jeonghan quipped, scratching his head.

*

You stepped out of the police station, practically fuming, your brows knit together in frustration. Whatever happened inside had clearly pushed you to the edge.

"Do I look like a mother? Do I look old?" you snapped at Jeonghan, still seething over the way the officers had assumed things about you and the baby. You were taking it personally—way too personally.

"We need to investigate this situation further. There’s no CCTV on your apartment floor, so it’s hard for us to confirm whether the baby was really left there or if it’s, well... yours,” one of the officers had said, completely indifferent to your rising anger.

Jeonghan sighed, still holding the baby box as if it weighed a ton. His day had been chaotic enough at work, and now this? He just wanted to take a nap, but instead, he found himself standing in front of the police station, accused of something as wild as fathering a baby outside of marriage.

Yet, somehow, he wasn’t as furious as you.

"So, what do we do with this creature?" Jeonghan gestured at the baby, still sounding far too calm for your liking.

"It's a baby," you muttered.

"I know it’s a baby. But what are we supposed to do? The police won’t take it without more evidence, and we can’t exactly keep it," he said, his voice getting louder, almost desperate. His raised tone startled the baby, who began to cry—loudly.

Jeonghan sighed deeply, the sound of the wailing infant pushing him to his limit. He shot you a pleading look, as if expecting you to pull some miracle solution out of thin air. "You’ve never thought about being in a situation like this before?" he asked, clinging to the hope that you might have a plan.

You shook your head, helpless. "I don’t know... I want to cry too," you mumbled, your frustration bubbling over.

Jeonghan groaned. "Great. That’s exactly what we need—two people crying."

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Alright," he said, resigning himself to the situation. "Let’s just... take it home first. Then we can figure out what to do."

The two of you exchanged a look—one that spoke volumes about how absurd your day had become—before heading back to your shared apartment, a tiny, crying bundle now in tow.

You and Jeonghan sat on the floor of your living room, the baby box placed carefully between the two of you. The baby was still crying, its tiny wails echoing off the walls, and neither of you had the faintest clue how to make it stop.

"Do you think it's hungry? Or maybe... the diaper’s full?" you asked, throwing out the first guesses that came to mind.

Jeonghan instantly grabbed his phone and started Googling. "Yeah, uh, let me just... get some baby stuff," he mumbled, still scrolling as he stood up. He made it a few steps toward the door before turning back to point at you, with a smirk. "And don't do anything dumb while I’m gone. It may be a baby, but trust me—it’s judging you."

You glared at him. "Shut up!" you snapped, though there was a hint of panic creeping into your voice. You had never felt so out of your depth in your own apartment before.

Jeonghan laughed softly under his breath and hurried out the door, leaving you alone with the crying bundle. You sighed, looking down at the baby, and for a second, you swore it was staring back at you, its cries growing more impatient as if it really was judging your lack of maternal instincts.

“Okay, okay, I get it... I’m not cut out for this,” you muttered, feeling a tiny bit of guilt, though mostly stress, wash over you.

When Jeonghan returned home, the sight that greeted him was the last thing he expected. You were sitting on the couch, cradling the baby in your arms, swaying gently as if you'd been doing it for years. The baby was finally quiet, its tiny face peaceful for the first time since you’d found it.

“What did you get?” you asked in a whisper, your voice barely above a breath, as if any louder might undo your newfound peace.

Jeonghan held up a bag and gestured to its contents. "Baby milk, diapers, and... these," he said, showing you a bottle and a baby-sized nipple.

You raised an eyebrow, a little amused. "You got the essentials. How’d that go?"

Jeonghan sighed, a bit sheepish. "The staff asked me how old the baby was. I panicked and just said, 'Uh, it’s a baby... like, you know, baby.’ She gave me the weirdest look because I kept calling it it.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, careful not to disturb the baby. “Good job,” you said, offering him a sarcastic thumbs-up before handing the baby over.

Jeonghan, now holding the baby with a mix of terror and curiosity, watched as you headed to the kitchen to prepare the formula. He could hear you from the other room, opening a tutorial video on YouTube, the sounds of "how to make baby formula" echoing faintly through the apartment.

“Will it be too hot?” you called out once you’d finished preparing the milk, holding up the bottle and inspecting it like you were conducting a science experiment.

Jeonghan smirked, bouncing the baby a little in his arms. "If it can handle my hotness, I think it'll be fine."

You shot him a withering look and promptly kicked his leg, just enough to make him grunt in pain.

“Ow,” he grumbled, trying to keep his voice low, but the baby squirmed in his arms, clearly disturbed by the commotion.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed quickly, gently rocking the baby back and forth. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene—a rare sight, Jeonghan being careful and gentle, though his usual antics weren’t too far behind.

"Careful, 'hot stuff,'" you teased, handing him the bottle. "You wouldn’t want to disturb your new fan."

Jeonghan gave you a mock glare before turning his attention back to the baby, slowly offering the bottle. "Let’s see if this works."

*

Neither of you had gotten a wink of sleep. And for once, the reason wasn't work—it was a baby. A very fresh, very loud baby. After fumbling through the process of changing a diaper and discovering the baby was a boy, you immediately passed him over to Jeonghan, wincing.

“I feel like I violated his privacy,” you mumbled, shoving the squirming infant into Jeonghan’s arms. “I didn’t have his consent.”

Jeonghan just rolled his eyes at your dramatic excuse to get out of diaper duty. “Right. Smart-dumb way to avoid the work.”

The next morning, utterly exhausted and desperate for some relief, you two were saved by an unexpected visitor. Your neighbor, a sweet woman in her 50s, knocked on the door, her face full of concern. She’d heard the crying all night and was curious about the sudden arrival of a baby in your apartment.

You and Jeonghan immediately launched into a frantic explanation, stumbling over your words as you described how you’d found the baby on your doorstep. To your immense relief, she offered to help babysit while the two of you went to work.

Now, finally, there was a moment of peace as you both leaned back in the bus seat, your heads resting against the windows. You shared a glance, silently hoping the short 10-minute bus ride would somehow erase the exhaustion weighing you down.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“She raised four kids. She’s more qualified than we are,” Jeonghan muttered, closing his eyes, the weariness catching up with him.

You sighed in agreement, sinking deeper into your seat. For now, all you could do was hope for the best and enjoy the few minutes of quiet before diving back into the chaos of your day.

"You should boil the bottle before using it, to kill the bacteria. Otherwise, the baby could get a stomachache and won't stop crying," your neighbor advised, her tone gentle but firm, as though the two of you were first-time parents instead of accidental babysitters.

Jeonghan and you stood there, nodding along, taking in her wisdom with wide eyes. "And don’t forget, after feeding, make sure he burps by patting his back gently. It’ll help him feel comfortable and sleep better."

With the baby in Jeonghan's arms, you both returned to the apartment, the weight of her advice hanging over you. You dropped everything you were carrying onto the floor, grateful when you noticed she’d even given you a small container of side dishes. You quickly stored them in the fridge while Jeonghan sat down, still rocking the baby gently in his arms.

"You should sleep," Jeonghan said after a few minutes. "I’ll watch the baby for now."

Without a second thought, you hummed in agreement, too tired to argue. You leaned over and gave Jeonghan a quick, tired kiss on the cheek as thanks before dashing off to your bedroom, ready to collapse. Jeonghan rolled his eyes with a smirk, though the small gesture made him chuckle.

As the door to your bedroom clicked shut, Jeonghan looked down at the baby, who had finally stopped fussing. “Well, it’s just you and me now, little guy,” he muttered, gently swaying from side to side. Exhaustion pulled at him, too, but the baby’s small face, now peaceful, kept him focused.

He yawned. "I need sleep as much as you do, buddy," he said softly, but continued rocking the baby, hoping the rhythmic motion would send him—and maybe himself—into a peaceful sleep.

*

Days of raising a baby you didn’t make—a running joke between you and Jeonghan to keep your sanity—were slowly becoming more manageable. The sleeping schedule was still a mess, but somehow, the two of you had adapted. You had even begun to master it. The real hero in your eyes, though, was Mrs. Moon, your neighbor, who had not only been babysitting but also offering wisdom, keeping both of you sane as you navigated this new, unexpected life.

One night, after a week of taking care of “Baby”—what you’d both started calling the little one—you and Jeonghan collapsed onto the couch. Baby lay peacefully in the rocking bed Mrs. Moon had lent you, her granddaughter's old one.

As you both sat there, half-delirious from exhaustion, the conversation inevitably shifted to the cost of suddenly having a baby around—mentally, physically, and especially financially.

“No wonder people in Korea aren’t having kids anymore,” you mused aloud, running a hand through your hair. “It’s a lot.”

Jeonghan, sprawled on the couch beside you, hummed in agreement. “I mean, it’s not news. Everyone knows how hard it is.”

“I’m so tired,” he said, his voice dripping with fatigue. “Like, mentally drained. All I want is to down five bottles of soju and just... disappear for a bit.”

You nodded, feeling the same way. “Right? I should be at a club right now, dancing, living my best life—maybe even finding someone to date,” you mumbled half-jokingly, staring at the ceiling.

Jeonghan turned his head to you, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to find the love of your life at a club?”

You shrugged, barely amused. “It doesn’t have to be love, you know... could just be, you know—distraction,” you said, hinting at something more casual.

Jeonghan gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Cheap,” he teased, his eyes wide in mock judgment.

You swatted his arm, your voice dropping to a whisper, trying not to wake Baby. “I lost my virginity at 22! I wasn’t that cheap,” you hissed, more amused than angry.

Jeonghan burst into soft laughter, knowing full well you were just messing around. He’d known you for too long to take any of this seriously. “I’m just saying... you don’t exactly scream ‘wild-child looking for a one-night stand.’”

You rolled your eyes, chuckling under your breath. “Yeah, well, I could surprise you.”

“Uh-huh,” Jeonghan replied, still smiling. He glanced over at Baby, who remained peacefully asleep, and then back at you.

“When was the last time you had it? With Joshua?” Jeonghan asked, breaking into personal territory the two of you rarely ventured. He was referring to your ex, the American-Korean guy who had ended things when he had to leave the country.

You hummed thoughtfully, rubbing your face. “Honestly? I think I’ve forgotten how it even felt,” you admitted, casting a sideways glance at him. “What about you?”

Jeonghan leaned back, scoffing slightly. “With my last ex, obviously. I’m not some playboy, Y/N, no matter what you think,” he replied, sounding a bit annoyed by the label you often teased him with.

You smirked, resting your chin on your hand. “Was it hard? You know, to only do it with a few people?”

He nodded, glancing at you seriously. “Yeah. I only ever do it when I’m emotionally attached to someone.”

Your eyebrow quirked up. “Like when you did it with me?” you asked, playfully hinting at that one time between you two.

Jeonghan’s gaze shifted toward you, a small, knowing smile forming as he nodded slowly. “Yup. Including you.”

For a brief moment, the air felt heavier between you, the shared history lingering in the silence. But then, as always, the familiarity between you and Jeonghan smoothed over any tension, settling the moment into a comfortable memory rather than an awkward one.

*

“You want me to what?” Jeonghan asked, his tone laced with disbelief as he stood frozen by the door, still in his campus jacket.

He had just returned from a long day filled with senior-year responsibilities, juggling group projects and graduation prep. Lately, the two of you had barely exchanged more than a few words, with both your schedules completely packed. You were interning at an American-Korean company, and by the time you got home, you’d make a beeline straight to your room, too exhausted for much interaction.

“Please, Jeonghan,” you pleaded, sitting on the couch with clasped hands. “I don’t know who else to ask. I only trust you.”

Jeonghan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He always knew you could be impulsive, but this? This was next-level.

“It’s not something casual, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “It’s... complicated. You seriously want me to take your virginity?”

You pouted, your eyes wide with a mixture of desperation and resolve. “It’ll be a one-time thing,” you assured him. “I promise it won’t change anything between us. I won’t treat you differently.”

Jeonghan groaned, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “We’ve been friends for eight years,” he reminded you, his voice soft but serious. “What if it doesn’t go well? What happens then? Where am I supposed to live? Are we just going to keep splitting rent and pretend nothing happened?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, amused that he was worried about the rent in such a moment. “It won’t change anything. I swear.”

He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. He wanted to make sure you understood what you were asking for, that you were truly serious about this.

“I’m serious, Jeonghan,” you added softly, your voice more determined now.

He sighed again, his internal conflict clear. “You know this could get messy, right?”

You nodded, eyes unwavering. “I trust you.”

Jeonghan sat down beside you, still visibly unsure but also knowing that in all the years you had been friends, you had always been honest with each other.

After a long, tense pause, he finally spoke. “Alright. If you’re absolutely sure about this...”

*

The two of you took half a day off work, though the morning had started as any other. While you were still in your tank top, getting ready for the day, a knock on the door interrupted your routine. Thinking it was Mrs. Moon, you casually opened the door, only to be met by a police officer.

"Mr. Yoon? Are you Ms. Yoon?" the officer asked.

Caught off guard, you quickly excused yourself to change, leaving Jeonghan to greet the officer. When you rejoined them in the living room, the officer handed both of you a document.

"It's about the report you filed last week regarding the abandoned baby," the officer explained. "We apologize for the delay, but we've since received information about a missing person—a woman in her twenties who disappeared along with her infant."

You and Jeonghan exchanged looks, tension building in the room.

"So, we'd like you to bring the baby to the station. We'll meet with the family to confirm if the baby is theirs."

Later, at the police station, the baby was confirmed to be the missing woman's son, just two months old. The officer showed you and Jeonghan footage of a woman carrying the same baby box, wandering near your apartment complex before leaving it behind. While you weren’t given the full details about the mother, the footage left no doubt.

It was an unexpected turn of events, but also a relief.

“No more baby to babysit,” Jeonghan remarked on your way to work, a mix of exhaustion and amusement in his tone.

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of the last few days finally lifting. “We should get Mrs. Moon that apple mango she’s been wanting,” you said, your voice light. Jeonghan made a mental note, closing his eyes as he leaned back in the car seat.

Finally, peace was coming—real peace, and not just the brief moments of quiet between diaper changes and late-night feedings.

"I'm sorry to ask, but I just want to make sure—are you two married?" The officer's tone was polite but curious.

Both you and Jeonghan shook your heads simultaneously. "No, we're not. We're just roommates," Jeonghan replied, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glanced at you.

The officer nodded thoughtfully, taking in your response before offering a friendly smile. "Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any further questions or information, don’t hesitate to reach out."

As the officer turned to leave, you and Jeonghan stood in front of the company building, the bustling city life continuing around you. The weight of the past week was beginning to fade, replaced by a sense of relief.

Jeonghan let out a small chuckle, breaking the momentary silence. "Can you imagine what it would have been like if we had been married? The rumors would have been wild!"

You laughed, shaking your head at the thought. "Thank goodness for our status as roommates, then. At least it keeps things simple."

With a shared smile, you both stepped into the building, ready to face the day ahead—less burdened by the unexpected chaos and more in tune with each other than ever.

*

You arrived home a little later than usual, the warmth of the evening lingering around you. After a lively team dinner filled with laughter and a few glasses of soju, you decided to take a cab home, the comforting thought of Jeonghan waiting, to take care of the drunk you, made the ride feel shorter.

As you stepped inside, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Jeonghan was slouched on the couch, drinking alone and engrossed in a variety show. The table in front of him was a chaotic scene of five bottles of soju and a box of fried chicken.

"You really have five bottles of soju?" you muttered, you sobered up from your own six glasses as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Hey, want to join?" Jeonghan offered, a lazy grin spreading across his face when he finally noticed your presence.

"You weren't joking when you said you would drink five bottles of soju," you replied, taking a seat beside him and pouring a shot of the clear liquid into a glass that had been left untouched, took in in one shot.

"Chill, girl. Did anyone bother you there?" Jeonghan asked, his words slightly slurred, yet still managing to express genuine concern.

You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. "Not really. But some higher-ups still made me pour drinks for them."

Jeonghan furrowed his brow, his expression shifting from playful to serious. Though he was clearly drunk, he was fighting to stay focused. "Which man should oppa kick his ass today?" he asked, referring to himself with a playful tone.

You chuckled, knowing how much he enjoyed the title. "Jeong Kiha," you mentioned, naming the vice president, which caught him by surprise.

"He came to your team dinner? That's rare," Jeonghan said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can’t help you there; he’s my boss as well."

You leaned in, amused by the whole situation. "What would you even do if you could? Challenge him to a drinking contest?"

"Absolutely! I’d take him down for you," he declared with exaggerated bravado, raising his glass in a mock toast. “But let’s be honest, I might need more practice after five bottles.”

"But if he bothered you, I might just have to make it personal." He continued.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Personal, huh? What do you have in mind?"

With a playful glint in his eye, Jeonghan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I could always take you out. Just the two of us. A more... intimate setting.”

Your heart raced at the suggestion, the alcohol fueling your boldness. "Intimate, you say? What would that look like, Jeonghan?"

"Maybe a cozy little restaurant where we can share more than just food and drinks," he teased, inching even closer. "I could help you unwind after your stuffy dinners with the higher-ups. Just you and me, no distractions."

A flutter of excitement surged through you. “And what else would we do, hmm?” you played along, your voice low and inviting.

Jeonghan smirked, leaning back slightly, eyes dancing with mischief. "I can think of a few ways to help you relieve some stress. You know, like teaching you how to really enjoy your drinks."

You laughed, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Is that your idea of a fun night? Getting me drunk so you can have your way with me?”

“Maybe,” he said, his tone turning serious for a moment. “But only if you want it, too. I wouldn’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

His sincerity was disarming, and the tension hung in the air, electric. “You know, it’s tempting,” you admitted, meeting his gaze. “Very tempting.”

Jeonghan grinned, raising his glass again. “Then let’s toast to temptation and see where the night takes us.”

You clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, both of you fully aware that this night could lead to something unexpected—and perhaps a little dangerous.

*

Jeonghan knew he was screwed the moment you asked him to take your virginity. The eight-year crush he had nurtured for you transformed into something much more profound once he kissed you for the first time. It felt right—like the universe had aligned in that single, electric moment. Your lips tasted sweet, like vanilla; maybe it was the chapstick you always used, or perhaps it was simply how you tasted. Either way, it was everything he had fantasized about.

He touched you with a gentleness that belied the whirlwind of emotions inside him, laying you down on his bed, because you didn't want to mess up your own. Watching your face shift through various expressions as he explored you sent shivers down his spine. He couldn’t believe you were under him, something that the adolescent version of himself would have dreamt about while fantasizing in the dark, his hand working over his shaft as he thought of you.

The day after he took your virginity, you kept your promise, treating him as a friend and nothing more. And that, honestly, was the most disappointing part for him. While you moved on as if nothing had changed, his feelings remained steadfast, unwavering in their intensity. Eight years had passed since that night, yet his heart still raced at the thought of you.

Now, sitting beside you, he was acutely aware of the space that had grown between you, filled with unspoken words and lingering touches. Jeonghan leaned in, cupping your cheeks in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his palms. His heart pounded as he captured your lips with his once more. After all these years, you were still as sweet as he remembered, and the taste sent him spiraling back to that first kiss, igniting the flame that had never truly faded.

In that moment, all the years of friendship, all the laughter and shared memories, faded into the background. The only thing that mattered was the soft connection between your lips and the lingering sensation of what could be. He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes for any sign of what you were feeling.

“Do you ever think about that night?” he whispered, vulnerability creeping into his voice.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering with uncertainty. “I try not to,” you admitted, your tone light but edged with honesty. “I didn’t want things to change between us.”

“And yet, here we are,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never stopped wanting you.”

The weight of his confession hung in the air, and you could feel the tension between you shifting. Jeonghan’s heart raced, hopeful yet anxious, waiting for your response. Would you finally see him for more than just a friend?

You met his gaze, a mix of emotions dancing in your eyes. “What do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s figure it out together,” he replied, closing the distance again, this time with a sense of urgency and purpose.

Jeonghan pulled you onto his lap, his hands roaming over every contour of your body, exploring the soft curves he had admired for so long. You kissed him with a passion that felt life-altering, pouring every ounce of desire and longing into that moment. The heat radiating between you ignited something primal in him—the idea that you wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted you was intoxicating.

He carefully unbuttoned your blouse, mindful that you would scold him if he broke even one button. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers gliding over your bare skin, teasing your breast while his lips trailed kisses along your neck, igniting every nerve ending.

“J—Jeonghan…” A moan escaped your lips, and the sound sent shivers down his spine as he marked your neck with his lips, claiming you in ways that made his heart race. “I got you, baby. I got you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

Your top lay discarded, and in a frenzy of desire, Jeonghan couldn’t even remember when he had removed it. He lifted your skirt, grabbing your ass as he kissed you deeply, pouring all his pent-up longing into that one kiss. He guided your hands to the hem of his t-shirt, encouraging you to strip him of his clothes. Your fingers traveled across his bare chest, and he let out a soft whimper at your touch, the sensation igniting a fire within him. This was the moment he had been waiting for—finally feeling your skin against his, a craving he had long held.

“Can you feel that?” he asked, thrusting his hips upward to let you feel how hard you made him. He noticed your cheeks tinting with a lovely blush at the revelation. “That’s how you make me, baby.”

He laid you back onto the couch, lifting your skirt higher until your thighs and underwear were fully exposed to him. One of his hands found its way to your breast, overwhelming you with sensations, while the other traveled lower, exploring your core beneath the thin, damp fabric that clung to you.

“You’re so wet, baby. And it’s all for me,” Jeonghan whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he nibbled on it playfully, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His tongue painted a path along your neck, igniting every nerve ending with desire.

“I need you, Jeonghan,” you whimpered under his skilled touch, desperation lacing your voice. But he hushed you with a passionate kiss, drowning your pleas in the heat of the moment.

“Be patient, baby… Just a little longer,” he replied, his voice a tantalizing promise as he continued to explore every inch of you, savoring the sweetness of your body and the thrill of this intimate connection.

He watched you gasp as he slid one of his fingers inside you, pulling it out slowly while your walls clenched around him. A smirk crept onto his face when you pleaded for more, and he was more than happy to oblige, moving his finger skillfully.

“Is it like the first time? When I fingered you, is it like what I did to you eight years ago?” Jeonghan teased, his voice low and sultry. You whimpered under him, craving everything he had to give.

“It feels amazing. Always.” You struggled to mutter the words, the pleasure overwhelming you as Jeonghan added another finger.

“You’re so tight, baby. I’m not sure you can take me well,” he breathed out, his fingers moving faster, each thrust eliciting a wince as you felt a pooling sensation deep in your tummy.

“I—I can, please… J—Jeonghan…” Your arms pulled him closer, your lips pouting for a kiss, and he obliged immediately, his lips capturing yours while his fingers continued their delicious torment.

“I want to cum,” you mumbled between kisses, and Jeonghan smirked against your lips. “Give it to me, baby.”

He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your body responding to him in a way that made his heart race. He pistoned his fingers with a brutal pace, feeling the pulsating tension building in your core. A loud moan escaped your lips, followed by your first orgasm with him after eight long years, and it was all for his fingers. The thought sent a surge of excitement through him; he couldn’t wait to make you cum with everything he had.

Withdrawing his fingers, he licked them clean, his gaze locked onto your blissed-out expression, riding high from the waves of pleasure he had just given you.

Without a word, he scooped you up from the couch and carried you to his bedroom. In one swift motion, he threw you onto the bed, his desire palpable as he pulled down his pants and joined you.

With an impatient urgency, he hovered over you, lips meeting in a heated kiss that spoke volumes of the longing built up over the years. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as your bodies melted into one another, igniting the passion that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.

"You want me raw or…?" Jeonghan asked, his voice low and filled with anticipation. His question sent a jolt through you, darkening your gaze as you whispered, "Raw." It was a bold confession, one that set the stage for everything that followed. "Just so you know, I’m on the pill."

He swore he could have died right in your arms at your admission, the thrill of it igniting something primal within him. As your hand traveled down to his abs, you let your fingers tease his skin for a moment before they finally grasped his hardened cock.

“Oh my god—” Jeonghan choked at your touch, his breath hitching. The smirk on your lips told him you were acutely aware of the effect you had on him, and it only intensified his desire.

“Put it in, please,” you begged, your voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. Jeonghan nodded, leaning in for one last, lingering kiss before he positioned himself, rubbing the tip against your slick entrance, feeling the heat radiating from you.

“Don’t tease,” you urged, your hand playfully pinching his arm, and he chuckled softly, the sound filled with desire.

With a teasing smile, Jeonghan finally pushed his member into your tight heat. He gasped at the overwhelming sensation, feeling you envelop him completely. Every inch of you was warm and inviting, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him, and he knew this was only the beginning.

He stilled inside of you, wanting you to adjust him for moment. You motioned him to move, a whimpered escaped his mouth as he pushed deeper to you slowly. Your walls clenching him tightly, pulling him deeper and making his head spinning. He pulled slowly before his hips thrusting, hitting you right, gaining a sensual moan from you.

"Keep it down, baby. Don’t want Mrs. Moon to hear us," Jeonghan murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he pushed deeper inside you.

"Faster, Jeonghan…" you breathed out the words, your voice a desperate plea laced with urgency. The thrill of being so close, yet so vulnerable, sent your pulse racing.

He obeyed, quickening his pace as he filled you completely, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself amidst the intoxicating sensations.

The bed creaked beneath you. Jeonghan’s lips found yours again, silencing any sounds that threatened to escape, kissing you fiercely as if to drown out everything but the two of you.

"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he watched your expression morph from pleasure to pure ecstasy. "I’ve wanted this for so long."

You responded with a whimper, the sound echoing in the small space, and you felt the heat pooling in your core grow stronger with each thrust. "I want you to finish inside me, Jeonghan. Please," you begged, your words spilling out in a breathless rush.

His breath hitched at your request, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of control. "You’re going to make me lose it," he warned, voice thick with need. But the fire in your eyes only urged him on, driving him to give you everything he had.

"Then let go, baby. I’m ready," you encouraged, your body arching against him, meeting his thrusts with fervor. The world outside faded away as you lost yourselves in each other, the only sound filling the room being the rush of your breaths and the soft, wet sounds of your bodies moving together.

With one final, deep thrust, Jeonghan buried himself inside you, his body tensing as he let go, the pleasure washing over him like a tidal wave. You followed right behind him, your body tightening around him as your climax hit, drawing out every last bit of ecstasy from both of you.

As you both came down from the high, he collapsed beside you, breathless and spent, while you curled into his side, feeling a mix of satisfaction and disbelief at how far you had come.

“That was... Amazing?” you said, your voice breathless but filled with satisfaction. The choice of word earned a tired laugh from Jeonghan, who could sense your smile before you leaned against his chest, the warmth between you still lingering in the air.

Jeonghan, his heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, felt a wave of heat creep up his cheeks. He couldn’t hide the flush staining his skin, and in an attempt to conceal it, he covered his face with his arm, laughing softly. You shifted, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes, clearly enjoying his sudden bashfulness.

“Where’s the confident, cocky Jeonghan I know?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at his uncharacteristic shyness.

Without missing a beat, Jeonghan pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He rested his chin on the top of your head, refusing to let you see just how red he had become. It was rare for him to feel this flustered, but there was something about being with you that turned his usual bravado into something far more vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the words muffled against your hair.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. “Sorry? For what?”

“I just... I can’t help it,” Jeonghan confessed softly, his voice almost shy. “I—I really like you. It’s been driving me crazy for years, and now that it’s all out in the open... I’m still not sure how to act.”

His confession felt light, as if every action, every kiss, every touch was its own declaration of the feelings he had been holding onto for so long. Saying it aloud didn’t feel like it added anything new, but he needed you to hear it anyway.

You felt his heart beating faster under your palm, and instinctively, you tightened your hold on him. “I... I really like you too. Honestly, I don’t even know when it started, but after all these years, I finally have the courage to admit it. I don’t just like you, Jeonghan. I love you.”

Your words hung in the air between you, sweet and sincere, filling the room with a warmth that rivaled any physical closeness. Jeonghan’s heart soared at your confession, a feeling of complete contentment washing over him. He had dreamed of this moment for years, but nothing could have prepared him for how real and incredible it felt to finally hear you say it.

You chuckled softly, resting your head back against his chest. “You really should’ve told me earlier, you know,” you teased, playfully poking at his side. “Like... earlier earlier.”

*

You watched the football game on the field, your eyes catching a lanky boy with long hair, dribbling the ball as if his life depended on it. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, and it was hard not to be impressed.

"Who's that?" you asked one of your friends, pointing toward the boy, curiosity getting the better of you.

"That? Yoon Jeonghan," they replied casually, as though everyone already knew his name.

Days later, you found yourself standing in front of Jeonghan's desk, clutching your math homework nervously. He was deep in conversation with his friends, his usual calm demeanor unshaken by the chatter around him. Mustering up your courage, you pulled the book from your bag and held it out to him.

"Teach me math! I heard you're the best," you declared boldly, your heart racing, half-expecting him to brush you off.

[sommerbueckers]

CAN WE GET HOPKINS P WITH A CLOSETED “straight hair straight A’s straight girl” TYPE GIRLFRIEND

SNEAKING IN, SECRETLY MEETING IN SCHOOL, P CANT HELP BUT STARE AND GF GETS MAD (but not rlly mad tho🤭)

𝙬𝙚 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙘𝙩𝙤𝙗𝙚𝙧 — 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴

___________________________________________________________

THERE WAS SOMETHING YOU always loved about the month of October, and it wasn't just the fact that it was your girlfriend's birthday month and she spent the entirety of it wanting to be near you. Paige wanted to be near you no matter what month it was. Your relationship was a secret, your sexuality was a secret. Being discreet was hard, especially when you and Paige passed each other in the hall and had to fight the urge to eye fuck each other the whole time.

"—And looking at this digital imaging, you can see where the forest fires started, and where they've spread."

Your hand was moving swiftly across the page, taking as many notes as you could. Your lip was between your teeth, eyes switching between your notebook and the board up front. You hadn't even registered the first buzz that came from your backpack, but then a second came, and then a third, and suddenly it was hard to ignore. You carefully set your pen down, leaning over to retrieve your phone.

Paige: u look pretty

Paige: all concentrated and shit

Paige: look up

Your eyes shot up toward the door, and you could see her smiling at you through the small window. She motioned you over with her finger, and you shook your head, gesturing down to your phone.

You: I can't, taking notes

Paige: but it's my birthday

You: Your birthday isn't for another two weeks

Paige: but i want my gift now

Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked up at her again. She was standing further back now, meeting your eyes with a smirk on her lips. You smiled to yourself, switching your phone off and putting it back. For a moment, Paige's shoulders slumped outside. Her head fell back and she sighed, pursing her lips out. But then, the door to the classroom cracked open and you slipped out.

You didn't acknowledge her. You closed the door behind you and began your walk to the usual spot; the restricted hallway. It was closed for the renovations that were being made in the west wing, and therefore, it left you and your girlfriend the perfect meetup spot. It was darker than most days, the gray sky outside not doing much to illuminate the space. But neither of you minded.

Paige snuck in not long after you, silently walking toward you with a cocky expression. She snaked her arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. The feeling of her hands running down over your hips and to your ass sent shivers down your spine, and you had to bite back a satisfied sigh when her hand grabbed at your plump skin.

She pulled away only slightly, features appearing darker as she stared down at you in the dim lighting.

"You miss me?" she whispered teasingly, tilting her head.

"A little..." you smiled.

"Just a little?" Her words came off as a challenge, one you couldn't back down from even if you tried.

"Yeah, just a little."

"Okay," she sighed out, fully backing away. "Guess you won't get a kiss then..."

"Wait," you grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her back to you, rolling your eyes. "Not fair. You pulled me out of class, you owe me."

"You think so?"

"Just kiss me you idiot."

Paige's arms wrapped themselves around your waist again, and she pulled you in for a kiss. You gently cupped her face, smiling against her lips when you felt her melt into you. She was full on hugging you while eating your face at the same time. You could taste her lunch on her; something with peanut butter.

She walked you back into the wall, sighing into the kiss when you pulled her closer by the drawstrings of her hoodie.

"You smell so good," she mumbled breathlessly, using her knee to part your legs.

You moaned when her knee came in contact with your core, the movement of your lips stuttering for a moment as you tried to maintain her pace.

"Just wanna taste you..."

You moved your hips against her, your grip on her hoodie tightening. Soft pants fell from your lips, and arousal dripped from your pussy. Paige pulled on the end of your braid, the braid that had taken you three tries to perfect this morning. You didn't care, not with Paige. She had this way of making you forget about everything important; school, work, grades, your image.

"That feel good baby?" she whispered, another hand tilting your chin to look at her.

"Uh huh..." you nodded, "So good."

"I can make it feel even better," she said. She tugged at the waistband of your pants, wanting so badly to rip them off. But you were grabbing at her hands the minute you felt her trying to get under them.

"No..." you pushed out, and you felt her pull away.

She stared at you for a moment before asking, "Are you okay?"

You nodded your head and straightened out your clothes.

"Yeah, but I have to get back to class," you insisted quietly, smirking at the pout she had on her face.

"I would've made it quick, y'know that," she rolled her eyes, but she wasn't really upset. She never was with you.

"I know that, but I didn't want you to," you brought her face down to yours and pressed a kiss to her lips, "I want us to take our time."

YOU SAT AT A different lunch table every day, but that didn't seem to stop Paige's eyes from finding you. She was staring across the cafeteria, completely ignoring the boy next to her while he talked her ear off. A smirk played at her lips, forearms resting against the top of the table. She was completely lost in the sight of you.

You gave her a stern look, mouthing 'Stop' as your eyes nervously scanned the area around you. Could she get any more obvious? She didn't listen, instead she brought her palm up to her face and rested her chin against it. She shook her head, a daring twinkle in her eye that you could see from a mile away. You furrowed your eyebrows, pulling out your phone and texting her.

You: Will you stop that ?

Paige: stop what?

You: Staring, you look creepy

Paige: i like what i see

You rolled your eyes, bringing your gaze up to her only to find that she w poking her tongue out at you. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, even though you knew you looked like an idiot to everyone else — smiling at nothing. You put your head down when you saw one of your best friends approaching you.

“You’re smiling…” she observed, “and you don’t have a book in your hand, so i’m officially scared.”

“Nothing to be scared of, i’m just in a good mood today,” you shrugged simply, and picked up your sandwich to avoid saying anything else.

“Okay, i’ll believe it for now.”

Your phone buzzed again, and you tipped the screen toward you to read the message.

Paige: lemme come over tonight

You: As much as I would love that, it’s a no

Paige: don’t be like thatttttttt

You: My mom works from home today, and my dad gets off early

Paige: i’ll be gone before he gets home

You: And my mom?

Paige’s typing ceased for a moment, you fought the urge to look up at her and admire her concentrated face. Her eyebrows furrowed, her lips screwed shut, eyes staring off into space like a solution would float by. As if you had thought it into existence, another message came through.

Paige: i’ll be quiet;)

A KNOCK SOUNDED SOFTLY on your window pane, and your eyes shifted toward the blonde who was smiling brightly at you. Her hair was completely soaked, droplets dripping down the sides of her face. You stood from the chair at your desk, stretching your arms over your head, painfully slow.

Paige narrowed her eyes at you from outside, lips trembling as she parted them to mumble under her breath.

Unlocking the window and pushing it up, you helped your girlfriend through. She was drenched from head to toe, smelling distinctly like rain and Paige. Immediately she pulled you into her, pressing her lips to yours and silencing whatever you had gone to say. The feeling of her wet clothes wasn’t pleasant, but again, you didn’t care.

“Hi,” she whispered against your lips.

“Hi there,” you whispered back.

“I missed you. Practice was so long and hard and I kept thinking about you the whole time.” She seated herself in the chair you had just gotten up from, touching all over your belongings. She smeared the words on your notebook when she let rain drip from her skin, she dampened the seat of your chair, ran her wet fingers along the pad of your computer.

“Leave that stuff alone,” you sighed out, closing your computer. “I’m so close to finishing.”

“I’m not gonna ruin it baby,” she smiled up at you, “Just wanted to see how smart you are.”

Your cheeks heated up at her compliment, you loved when Paige called you smart, when she told you how good you were, when she praised you in any way really. She knew it too, you could tell by the proud smirk that crossed her face when she noticed your blush.

“You’re pretty.” It came out as a whisper, not the kind that you used to share secrets, but the kind that isn’t meant to be heard by anyone other than yourself. She wished she could say something else, something that meant more to you. Those three words. It was odd how terrifying three little words could be. Paige wasn’t scared of much, but if there was one thing on the planet that she was scared of, it was those three words.

You looked down at her, unaware of the pool of thoughts that submerged her judgement.

“You’re prettier,” you said, kissing the tip of her nose. “Do you wanna watch a movie?” you then asked, the air around her now cold as you sat down on your bed.

She nodded her head, clearing her throat as well as her head. “Yeah, The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

“Duh,” you laughed, scrolling through the selection of movies until you found you favorite.

Paige unzipped her jacket and set it on the chair. Then, still clad in her wet clothes, she made herself comfortable beside you.

As the movie started, the blonde pulled you close to her and kissed the top of your head, wanting so badly to whisper those three little words.

___________________________________________________________

[enhaheeseung]

BREAK UP - L. HEESEUNG

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader

Warnings: crying, break up, angst, cursing, heartbreak, arguments.

Word count: 2,072k

Note: I'm just writing a few drabbles for now, hoping to get my engagement up a bit. This is really rushed, so it’s not good, but oh well.

Part 2 Part 3

-

“Babe, when are you coming to bed?”

It’s twelve am, and you have been waiting hours past your bedtime so you can finally go to sleep with your boyfriend for the first time in literal months.

It’s been a while since he started working from home, and you thought that would free up some space for you both to spend time together.

You thought you guys could go back to normal like how you used to be but now it seemed like he worked even more after being able to work from home on top of his promotion.

You received no answer, and you sighed. This had been going on for months, him ignoring you and solely focusing on work. You disappointedly slipped under the covers so you could patiently wait for him to be finished.

Staring at the clock, you counted down every minute until a full thirty minutes passed.

You decided to give it another go thinking half hour may have been enough time for him to conclude his work. “Honey, it’s so late,” your voice is groggy, eyes half opened, and you’re still worried about your boyfriend’s well-being. How could you not be when he barely ate and barely slept anymore? The last time you two spent quality time together was so long ago you couldn’t even remember. “Please come to bed. I know you’re tired.”

He snaps at your words, only increasing the annoyance that he currently feels. “Can you just stop talking, damn?!” He agitatedly shouts out of nowhere, turning his head in your direction with an angry expression plastered on his tired features.

Startled by the sudden loudness of his tone you jumped a little bit not used to him speaking to you that way. “S-sorry I was just worried” you tucked back under the covers your heart aching in your chest cause of what he said to you.

He was always on edge lately, but you never received that type of treatment from him. Ever even in your five years of dating, he has always been respectful to you.

“You’re sorry?” he scoffs. “You should be sorry I’m the one working hard every day to provide for you and all the frivolous bullshit you buy, and this is the thanks I get. Do me a favor and stop fucking bothering me while I’m working,” he rubs his temples, turning his attention back to his computer.

It most certainly wasn’t the first time he’d said such harsh words to you after your constant nagging for him to eat and sleep more, but this was the first time you felt pure anger from him, and it worried you cause he was never this bad before and you feared that as time went on like this it would just get worse.

“O-okay.” You looked at his stressed back, noticing how tense his shoulders were, and you felt bad knowing he was taking on all of the work to provide for you both. Apparently, all you were doing was bothering him, but you weren’t doing it intentionally. “I guess it’s a crime to care about my boyfriend.” Your voice broke a little, and you turned your back to him, calling it quits for the night. He could come to bed whenever he wanted.

“You know what?” He shuts the computer and sighs. “I think.” he pauses for a moment, the silence getting the best of your nerves cause you were scared about what he was going to say. “We should just break up.”

His words dangle in the air for minutes, and within those minutes, you feel tears pricking your eyes and your heart breaking into little tiny bits. “Hee-“ you sat up now, looking at him with your bloodshot eyes.

“I know you’re going to run down every reason why we shouldn’t, but I’m done. I’m tired of this, and I’m tired of talking. I can’t do it anymore, and nothing you say can ever change my mind.”

You’re left absolutely speechless too stunned to even say anything not to say he would want to hear it or listen now anyway.

You’ve spent so many long years of your life with him that you couldn’t see yourself being with anyone else besides him you thought that he was your happy ever after and to hear him say he wants to break up felt like a dream a very bad dream never in your life did you ever think he’d say the words but he did and it came out so easily like he’s been wanting to say it but only now decided to.

And the thought made you upset because if he’s been feeling this way for this long why did he even bother to string you along knowing he didn’t see a future with you anymore after your guys relationship went downhill?

In the midst of your thoughts his voice brings you back to the present. “I’ll call your mom in the morning so you can get all your stuff and be out by tomorrow.” You don’t respond, and the only thing you hear for the next few hours is typing on a keyboard.

You would go to the sofa, but you’re literally glued to the bed, paralyzed by grief.

The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and they definitely didn’t stop once he came to bed. If anything, they got worse when you felt his warmth so close to you but yet so far away.

He tried slipping his hand around your waist, but you slapped it away. “Don’t touch me,” you say through your heartbroken cries.

He immediately retracted his hand, a little surprised at first by how quickly you rejected his touch.

He didn’t care really he just thought it might comfort you a little so you could sleep since you’ve been up crying for literally hours but it didn’t matter one way or the other to him as he turned on his side and shut his lamp off.

Heeseung slept soundly while you lay awake, crying every last tear you had left in you.

-

When morning struck, heeseungs alarm woke him up. His eyes shot open, and he quickly grabbed his phone, turning the awful sound off.

He turned towards your side of the bed and patted the soft material in search of your warmth, but he found none.

His eyes opened, and he was met with a few luggage bags that looked to be packed already. He sat up confused for a moment until memories of last night flooded his mind.

He heard a rustle coming from the closet, and you appeared a second later, already fully dressed this early in the morning. Usually, you would still be asleep when he started work.

But obviously, today was different.

His eyes shifted throughout the room. Most of your stuff was already gone.

As you walked to each end of the room collecting your stuff, his eyes followed you, watching your every movement.

The moment he saw you grabbing all your ornaments, he felt an ache in his chest.

You didn’t have much in the bedroom, but those little ornaments had you written all over them, and it was one of the few things that made it obvious to him that he wasn’t living alone, and seeing them all getting wiped out made him feel sick to his stomach. “Y/n?” He mumbled out while nervously picking at his nails.

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t. He said he was done talking, and so were you. Last night, you came to terms with this. It took hours, but you just accepted it.

You had to.

Were you going to miss him?

Yes.

Was it going to hurt?

Yes.

But you didn’t want to be in his life if he didn’t want you to be in his.

You continued to pick up the little porcelain cat decorations, and that’s when he decided to slip out from under the covers and walk over to you, standing behind you and taking the figurine from your hand, setting it back down where it had been sitting for the last couple of years. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in your ear while back hugging you, the warmth of his bare chest sending electricity throughout your body. “About last night, sweetheart, I was just tired and said a lot of things I didn’t mean, and I know that it sounds like a shitty excuse, but I really didn’t mean it, baby. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and I hate myself for taking it out on you. I’m so sorry I made you cry.” he closed his eyes, inhaling your scent, the one he’d been missing for months.

You hated yourself for the way you melted into his arms after all the things he said to you last night, but it’s just been so long since you felt his touch on you that you couldn’t help it.

You leaned into him, his body pressing flush against yours. It felt so good being in his strong arms again.

But as fast as you melted, you hardened up even quicker, slipping out of his grasp.

You started packing up your things again, keeping a good distance from him because right now you know you could easily forgive him, but you didn’t want to because there’s no way he could say what he said to you last night and change up so quickly in the morning you weren’t falling for it.

When you walked by him, he quickly extended his hand, grabbing you by your elbow, pulling you into his chest, and hugging you closely. “Little one, please forgive me.” he rested his chin atop your head, stroking your back softly. “I need you. Love, without you, I don’t have anything, you know that. Remember, I’ve told you so many times everything I do is all for you. I know I made a mistake, but I’m sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His voice shook slightly, and you could feel just how fast his heart was beating against your chest and the words were on the tip of your tongue, but for the way you feel right now, you think breaking up would just be for the best.

You two were living different lives, and the compatibility wasn’t aligned anymore. As much as you hated living a life without him, the thought of living a life where he was working and you were being neglected was something you hated even more.

Your breath got caught in your throat the moment his lips pressed against your neck. “Please,” he begged in between each soft kiss he left on your neck. “Say something, please,” he sniffles softly and rests his palms over your stomach.

You peeled his hand off your body, turning around to tell him that you were done straight to his face, but it was so hard cause he looked absolutely distraught. “Heeseung, I’m leaving, and that’s final.”

The sob he let out almost made you break down in tears yourself. He tried to cover it by cupping his mouth, but it was too late. It was one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever heard from him, and you had to leave now before you ended up forgiving him.

You quickly grabbed your things, wheeling them to the front door with him close behind you. “I can’t let you go, y/n. I-I love you.” his arms were secured around you again, and you stood there, trying to remain as emotionless as possible until he finally let go of you. “So that’s just it? What am I supposed to do without you, baby?” He asked warm tears running down his cheeks he looked so sad and vulnerable.

“You said you were tired of talking, and at this point, so am I. Goodbye, heeseung. I hope work treats you better than I ever could.” You unlocked the front door and opened it.

“Y/n-“

“Enough!” You shouted at him, losing your patience finally and letting all your months of pent-up anger get the best of you.

He stood there completely stunned by you raising your voice at him, and it left him speechless.

Even though his mouth was parted like he wanted to say something, the words just never made their way out.

The last thing you saw before slamming the door was his sad, tearful expression, but this was what he asked for, and he got it.

-

Thanks for reading likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated sorry for any typos or errors I hope you all have a good day/night♥️

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask. 

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map. 

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans. 

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste. 

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process. 

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

[talaok]

The carpet

pairing: Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

Summary: You and your husband Pedro prepare for a red carpet, but once you're there you have a wardrobe malfunction, luckily, he's there to help.

Warnings: just so much fluff for no reason

a/n: i havent written something for Pedro that wasnt a request in literally 9 months, but guess what the hyperfixation is hyperfixating lately and I just needed to write down what i've been daydreaming about all day.

"wow" he exhaled, closing the door behind him, his eyes trained on you.

You chuckled, looking at him from the mirror, as a choked "aww" escaped Linda, your make-up artist's, lips at the reaction.

You gave her a look and she just grinned, checking her work one final time before whispering "Seeing you two is better than watching any rom-com, I can't even remember the last time my Mark looked at me like that", making you laugh once more with a playful roll of your eyes.

"you look stunning sweetheart" Pedro breathed, right behind you now, his hands already on your waist

Another dreamy sigh fell out of Linda's lips before she decided it was time for her to go.

"i'll go wait downstairs then... leave you two lovebirds some time alone," she said, excitement piercing through her tone as if she was watching her daughter walk down the aisle.

"thank you Linda, we'll be down in a moment" You nodded, smiling sincerely at her as she started for the door.

But just when a foot was already out into the hallway, she turned around, a serious expression on her all of a sudden.

"And Pedro" she shot him a look "Just this once, try not to mess her lipstick up too much, will ya?" 

You couldn't help but laugh, loudly, wholeheartedly, but Pedro, ever so honest only answered with a "I can't make any promises Linda", before the poor woman groaned and shut the door behind her.

Just as the soft thud of the motion bumped from wall to wall, Pedro turned you around in one swift motion, getting to see your pretty face better.

"hi there" you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, softly playing with the hem of his tuxedo's jacket.

"hello sugar" he grinned, letting his eyes drink in all of you.

"You look handsome" you murmured, your right hand going to his face, feeling the soft stubble of his beard graze your palm.

"mhhh" he hummed, leaning closer already, much to Linda's disappointment "Well you know how it is... if my lady's gonna be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet I gotta step up my game"

You huffed out a laugh 

"'s that right?"

"need to at least try and look like you're not miles out of my league" he cocked an eyebrow, his hands on your waist pushing you flush against him.

"You're a bad man Pedo Pascal" you stifled a smirk "A bad, bad man" you whispered as his lips finally met with yours.

They were softer than usual, but heavenly just the same. 

His hold tightened on you and you melted right into his arms, whimpering weakly into his mouth, before after what was probably a good two minutes, he pulled away.

"we gotta go" you murmured

"I know" he groaned, half-heartedly leaning away.

And as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, you couldn't help but chuckle, as your gaze fell to your lips.

"Oh Linda's gonna be pissed"

__ __ __

the carpet was booming tonight,

celebrities filled every inch of the crimson rug, and the flashes of the countless cameras pointed at you were so strong you swore they would have blinded you if you weren't so used to them.

You were posing to show off the gorgeous dress you were lucky enough to be wearing, and once you had exhausted all the poses you knew, you turned to your husband on the left as he offered you his hand, which you took with a smile, walking to his spot and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek the photographers seemed more than a little enthusiastic about.

But as you posed together, his arm on your back drawing soothing circles, an almost inaudible pop made its way to your ears, and all the sudden some pressure was gone from your chest, and when you looked down... when you looked down the button that was holding the two pieces of fabric covering your boobs had popped, and said fabric was starting to fall.

"oh my god" you blurted, but before you could do anything, your reflexes slowed down by the shock, Pedro's hand found your chest, salvaging the falling pieces of the dress.

"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to say, or do as he moved in front of you, his broad build doing a hell of a good job of shielding you from the photographers

"I was about to flash so many people" you finally breathed, your voice faint.

"yeah" he said, trying, really trying to suppress the chuckle down his throat, but failing miserably "Yeah you were sweetheart" he laughed softly, his hand still holding your dress.

"are you- don't laugh!" you gasped, although with one look at your face, you could feel a bubble of laughter making its way up your thoat "It's not funny" you smiled, chuckling too now.

"no" he shook his head, sarcasm spilling out of his every pore " there's nothing remotely funny about this sugar, absolutely" he smiled, making you want to roll your eyes

"hold the dress for a sec" he said, having you do just that as he took his jacket off and instead, put it on you.

"thank you" you smiled, looking up at him.

"you just worry about keeping that jacket closed" he murmured, kissing your cheek "I've already seen too many men's eyes wondering a bit too much"

"oh shut up" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he escorted you off what must have been the worst red carpet of your life.

"Whatever you say flash" he laughed, obviously very proud of his own joke

"god I hate you so much" you sighed, smiling widely into his chest nonetheless.

[leahwllmsn]

loss of my life

alexia putellas x reader

Alexia never brings you up during her weekly lunches with Mapi. Today is different.

loml series

; angst

It’s a harmless question that Alexia knows the answer to. She doesn’t even know what prompts her mouth to ask that question, but she feels like dying inside with every thought of you, so she doesn’t see the harm in doing so.

“y/n?” Mapi asks back. “Well, you know… She’s good, I guess.”

Alexia rolls her eyes at Mapi’s attempt to be vague. “I’m not going to break.”

Mapi looks up at her, her eyes softening. “I know,” she stays quiet for a moment. “Do you really want to know?”

Alexia looks hesitant, but she nods.

“She’s happy,” Mapi states, looking anywhere but her best friend. “She’s seeing someone. Leah. Lucy introduced them.”

Alexia averts her gaze down to her food. She knows this, she sees Leah’s face every time she opens your Instagram–a habit that she should stop doing if she wants to stop the aching in her heart.

“Ale…” Mapi sighs, placing her hand on top of Alexia’s. 

“I’m fine, Mapi,” Alexia tries to act flippant about it, but she has never been good at hiding her emotions. “I’m glad that she’s happy again.”

Mapi purses her lips, looking like she’s about to say something. After a few seconds she does, “She asked about you too, you know.”

“Really?” Alexia hates how her tone sounds, as if she’s been waiting for that to happen.

“In passing once, when we were having dinner at her place,” Mapi takes a deep breath. “Just, how you were and stuff.”

Alexia nods. That’s better than nothing. That means you still remember her somehow.

As if Mapi can read her mind, she says, “She’s not going to forget you, Ale.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that.”

“But I know you.” Mapi places her utensils down, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “By the way, this food is so good. We should come here more often. I know Ingrid would love it.”

“I miss her,” when Mapi gives her a look, she corrects herself. “Ingrid. I was talking about Ingrid.”

Mapi looks at Alexia like she doesn’t believe her, but she says nothing. “She misses you too. She’s sorry she couldn’t make it to lunch, she’s been really busy these days.”

“You two are okay… right?” Alexia knows the answer to this too, but she just needs the confirmation.

“We are,” Mapi says, her eyes instantly lighting up. “We’re set to move to the new place next month. You’re coming to the house-warming party right?”

Alexia knows that if she does, she’ll see you. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to see you again, especially now that you have someone new. Seeing her ex-fiancé with her new girlfriend on a phone screen is one thing, seeing it in front of her own eyes is another. Alexia knows Leah is visiting. It was all Keira had been talking about.

Mapi, sensing Alexia’s reluctance, gives her a small smile. “You don’t have to... How about, Ingrid and I will text you when they leave, and you can come then?”

With the amount of gatherings Alexia has missed, she starts to feel bad. She knows her situation with you is placing their mutual friends in an uncomfortable position. So she swallows her heartbreak once more and smiles at her best friend. “Don’t be silly, of course I’ll be there.”

“If you’re sure. We can always have our own after-party.”

Alexia shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I think I need to see the rest, they’ve been bugging to meet me.”

Mapi laughs. “Jana won’t shut up about how you only accept to go for lunch with Ingrid and I.”

“Yeah,” Alexia grimaces. “It’s hard when all of my friends are her friends too. Every time I see them, I just get reminded of her. I need the break. Besides, I’ll see you all when training starts again, so…”

“Do Ingrid and I not remind you of her?” Mapi looks genuinely curious.

“That’s different,” Alexia shrugs. “I’ve known you since forever, you’re my best friend. And Ingrid is Ingrid. I can’t just not see you. Even if you do remind me of her, I just have to suck it up.”

“Fair point.”

“What did you mean earlier, by the way?”

Mapi looks at her questioningly, “What about?”

Alexia stays silent, staring intently at her food. When Mapi is about to ask her one more time, she speaks up, “About her not forgetting me.”

“Oh, you know,” Mapi takes a sip of her drink. “When you two were together, you were always worried that she would forget you, which I still don’t know where that came from. She was crazy about you.”

“I don’t know either.”

That’s a lie. Alexia knows perfectly why she acted the way she did, but she’s never going to tell anyone about it. She knows that you deserve better than her, that she can never give the love that you wanted, and even though she still loves you, she wasn’t going to let you stay unhappy with her. Alexia knows that she wasn’t meant for you, she just needs to start accepting it so she can move on.

When Mapi doesn’t reply, Alexia speaks again, “It’s pathetic isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Me.”

Mapi stares at Alexia in disbelief. “Don’t say that.” “It’s true,” Alexia shrugs. “It’s been a year. She moved on, while I’m still stuck here.”

“People heal at their own time.”

Alexia takes a deep breath. “Maybe I’m not meant to heal. I only gave her pain when we were together, maybe this is my punishment.”

“Stop beating yourself down, Alexia.” Mapi looks sad, and Alexia curses herself for always putting the mood down.

“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.” Alexia tries her best to give Mapi a genuine smile. “I’ll get better. For all of you.”

Mapi leans forward, taking Alexia’s hand in hers. “I want you to get better for yourself.”

Alexia knows that, but she still can’t help but feel that she doesn’t deserve to get better.

“I kissed someone else,” Alexia reminds Mapi. “When my fiancé was waiting for me at home.”

Mapi squeezes her hand even further. “I know you have your reasons. Not that I condone cheating,” Mapi grimaces. “It’s just… You loved y/n so much, you wouldn’t do anything to ruin your relationship. Something must’ve happened.”

“I don’t know, I can’t seem to remember my excuse anymore.”

Mapi shrugs. “Well, that’s in the past. Like you said, y/n has moved on. It’s fine if you start doing the same, Ale.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Mapi grins at her. “That’s better than nothing.”

Alexia smiles back at her. “Let’s go. You told Ingrid you’re on your way thirty minutes ago, she’s going to wonder where you are.”

And when Mapi laughs, Alexia can’t help but laugh back. “She can wait. I only get to see you once a week, I see her everyday.”

“You’re lucky,” Alexia gives a wistful smile. “Spending the rest of your days with the one you love.”

“You’ll find someone again, Ale.”

Alexia knows her answer, “probably not,” and she’s about to say that when she sees the hopeful look on Mapi’s face. So she puts on her best happy face and answers, “Sure.” 

[eddiesxangel]

Fool Me Once | Eddie Munson x Reader

Anonymous Asked: Eddie being your first everything and first boyfriend and reader is like kinda awkward or something. Then Eddie gets really drunk and gets home to reader and starts yelling at her saying like “You’re only dating me because you don’t want to be a sad loser virgin.” and she gets really sad because she genuinely loves him so much and she starts thinking that he doesn’t love her at all… Then maybe the day after he can’t find reader anywhere and maybe she’s like with robin just crying her eyes out.

AN: IDK IDK it’s my first angsty thing I’ve done hope it’s ok 🫣

Cw: angst, hurt no comfort. Small bitty smut. Use of pet names, one use of reference to reader as “my girl”

“I love you, god, I love you” Eddie slowly pumped his swollen cock in and out of you.

You’ve never felt this wave of pleasure before; no wonder everyone was so hyped about sex.

“Fuck you’re so tight.”

“Baby, please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but the feeling in your lower stomach was starting to build more and more and more until! Euphoria. Euphoria fuelled your body. The wave of pleasure that Eddie just granted you felt indebted to him.

“I love you,” you sigh as your body melts into your boyfriend.

You’ve been with him for almost six months and finally felt ready to give himself to him. You hadn’t slept with anyone until now, and you were so happy you waited. You never felt so close, so in love, so unbelievably happy in this moment. Life was amazing; nothing could ever break this feeling you have.

Ring ring ring

You were abruptly awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You were fast asleep, and now feeling disoriented, you looked at the clock. It was already 3:38am. You wondered who could be calling you at this late hour. Maybe it was an emergency? Your heart racing, you rushed over to the phone in a state of panic.

"Hello?"

"You little slut"

"Eddie?"

"Who else would it be? Are you expecting a booty call? another guy you want to fuck?"

"I don't understand? What's wrong."

“What's wrong? I'll tell ya what's wrong! You’re only with me, so you’re not some loser virgin, that’s what! Do you think all the guys will want you to know that your cherry is popped? Well, guess what, honey? Now you're just a sad little whore.” He slurred.

“Wha-“

“You think you’re hot shit now? Getting with the freak of Hawkins? Gonna brag about how you fucked the freak?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” your voice wobbled.

He was obviously drunk out of his mind, but as they all say, drunk words are a sober man’s thoughts.

“I know how this is going to go… well, not if I beat you to it.”

“I don't understand?”

“I don't understand?” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice. “I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” He yelled, and you cowered. He didn’t care. His voice got louder and louder. “You were a sad loooooser virgin before me! And now you’re just a sad loser who fucked the freak,” he laughed. He actually laughed.

"Eddie-"

“So we are don-”

You hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence.

You couldn't believe this was happening? You gave Eddie everything. You thought he was your everything up until this point. You slept with Eddie for the first time a week ago. Things were good, great, even. Until he went to the hideout tonight without you.

You stayed up the rest of the night because you were in tears about what Eddie said. None of this makes any sense? You always loved Eddie, and you thought he loved you back? How could he be so cruel?

You were woken up from your daze by a knock on your apartment door. You stumbled out of your room, still in your sleep shirt, with puffy eyes from crying all night. Robin was here to pick you up for work.

"Good Mor-" Her smile dropped along with the cup of coffee she was handing you as she saw your appearance. "Oh my god! What happened?" she rushed inside to wrap her arms around you.

"Eddie. He-" You could hardly get the words out. You just crumpled into a ball on the floor and sobbed pathetically in front of Robin.

"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch" She let you cry into her on the floor. "Come on, you need to get out of here. Get changed. We are calling in sick, and we can return to my place."

Eddie woke up the morning after with a terrible hangover. It was already 12:35pm, and he couldn't remember how he got home. He suddenly felt an intense wave of nausea, which prompted him to hurry to the bathroom, where he vomited uncontrollably.

After the fifth shot, things in his memory become a little hazy. He was pretty hammered by then, but he still kept drinking with the boys. He vaguely remembered Jason being at the bar and making some leud comment about you, but other than that. Nothing.

He stumbled over to his answering machine to find it empty. That's weird? You always call him before your shift, and at least try to catch him on your lunch break. Today was Wednesday, right? You always work the morning shifts today.

Eddie tried calling your number, but he had no luck, so he tried calling your work, and when they said you called in sick, he got worried. So he tried your number again, and it still went to voice mail. Maybe you were sleeping? He tried calling back to see if Robin might know more. But when your annoyed coworker picked up the phone to tell him Robin also called in sick, he knew something was up.

Eddie rushed to his phone book to find Robin's number and called it. he waited for four rings until...

"Hello?"

"Hey! Rob it's Eddie, have you-"

"We are not speaking to you."

"We? Who's we?"

But it was too late. All he heard was the sound of the dial tone.

He tried again, no answer this time. He tried once more before getting pissed and decided to just go over to her place because what the fuck?

When Eddie got to Robin's, he pounded on the door like the pounding going on in his head.

"Robin! Open the door, please."

The door finally swung open to a very angry-looking Robin standing before him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Munson?!" She stepped outside and closed the door behind her so he couldn't come in.

"Robin, I'm extremely hungover and do not have the patience for your riddles. Do you know where my girl is or not? I'm worried sick."

"Oh, you can relax now since she is not your girl anymore, buddy." she poked his chest roughly. "you made that abundantly clear last night.

"Last night? I don't remember a thing from last night!"

"Well, think harder because she has been in there sobbing her eyes out from your little phone call."

"Phone call? What pho-" Then it all came rushing back to Eddie. It hit him like a Mack Truck.

"Yo Munson, where is that little whore of yours? Is she usually dangling off your arm like your little pet?" Jason snorted. "I bet she's off sucking another guy's cock; realized what a loser you are."

Jason didn't say much more to antagonize Eddie and get in his head, especially with the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

How could he be so stupid?

"Robin, oh my god, I fucked up. I fucked up big. Let me apologize."

"No. not now." She's a mess, as you can imagine-"

Robin was interrupted by the creek of the front door opening.

There you stood, looking as small as ever. Your eyes are still puffy, and your hair is a mess in your pyjamas at 1:30 in the afternoon.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't!" you cut him off, and Robin leaves to give you two spaces. "Don't you dare come here and think you can just take back what you said to me!" You had done a lot of crying; your anger was showing through.

"You don't understand, Jason was-"

"Jason?! What the fuck does Jason have to do with this? You hurt me, Eddie! I gave you everything! And then you throw it back in my face, accusing me of sleeping around? Are you insane? I've been in love with you for the last year and give myself to you, and you just throw that all away because of Jason Fucking Carver?"

"Baby, please, I'm so sorry; I'll do anything!"

"You've done enough." You turn and slam the door. That's it. You were done. Your heart felt so heavy… like it was just smashed into a million pieces. You were so close to caving when you saw the look of sorrow in those puppy dog eyes. But he had hurt you so bad you couldn’t believe he felt an ounce of pain he had inflicted upon you.

You and Eddie were officially done.

You have been radio silent. You were held up in your room, and you refused to do anything other than go to work.

Eddie called you excessively. It was every day, multiple times a day. His messages made your heartache as you played them back. You could hear in his voice how broken he was. He had fucked up so bad you didn’t know if you should give him another chance. For two weeks, you refused to answer your phone. You were so sick of it ringing you eventually took it off the line.

Eddie did everything he could think of to try and win you back. He sent you flowers to your work every single shift. He called, wrote love letters, and just needed you to speak to him. He was a desperate mess without you. Eddie’s heart, like not, was ripped into shreds, and it was all his fault.

You’ve been in his life since high school since he met you in hellfire freshman year. Then, once you finally confessed your feelings for one another, he couldn’t believe his luck. You said you wanted to be with him, that you wanted him to be the only one you give yourself to. He never thought that he would be so lucky... And here he was, shooting himself in the foot. He even tried to go to your apartment a few times. But you would never answer the door. He would leave a note each time he showed up unannounced. It would say how sorry he was and how much he loved you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.

The slurred words repeatedly played in your head, and you couldn’t make it stop. No matter how much he apologized, nothing he could say could make you forget. Your chest felt like it had a fifty-pound weight sitting right on your heart. Your eyes were permanently swollen from the continuous crying you couldn’t seem to stop. He had stolen your heart and then stomped on it until it seized to beat.

The first month after the breakup was rough, but avoiding Eddie seemed to be easy enough. He eventually got the message by month two and stopped trying altogether.

As time went on, you slowly started to heal. Eventually, your constant thoughts about Eddie subsided. Eventually, they stopped. You never thought you would get over the hurt, but the distance helped. You were getting on your merry way by month three. Finally, feeling like yourself again, eating regularly, sleeping regularly. You hadn’t heard or seen him, and you were finally freed from the prison sentence that was Eddie Munson.

Time spent with your friends and family was exactly what you needed. Even though Robin saw Eddie regularly, she never forgave him for what he did to you. Their friendship was strained, which strained his friendship with Steve as well as Nancy. They wanted to take his side, but once they heard what he had said to you, they couldn’t simply look the other way. So you would hang out with them when Eddie wasn’t there and vice versa. They made sure you never had to encounter one another for the time being. However, it was getting more and more difficult to have two separate schedules to appease you both.

You were to go to Steve’s for dinner with everyone, pizza and movie night. When you arrived, everyone was tense. Lines got crossed, miscommunication ensued, and as you walked through to the kitchen, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in his hand, almost slipping from his grip as his Bambi eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Oh shit!” You hear Steve curse when he realizes the mistake that has been made.

“I’m going to go.” You turn and sprint to the door.

“Not wait!l You can hear Eddie shuffle off the chair behind you, but you refuse to look back.

“Please! Wait!”

Threatening tears sting your eyes, and you rush out the front door.

“Sweetheart, wait.” You feel his hand hook your elbow as your body is jerked in the opposite direction in which you’re running.

“What!” You yell, but then you see his eyes. You really look at him for the first time in three months. He had bags under his eyes, and the dark circles extenuated the deep chocolate of his eyes.

“I-I uh,” he lets out a deep breath, “I wanted to say I’m sorry I’m so sorry. I was so god damn stupid, so so stupid, the dumbest guy on the planet. I can’t believe I fucked this up so badly; I love you. I love you so much. I can’t do this anymore without you, baby. Please.” He was on his knees, begging, literally on his knees, grovelling.

“Eddie, get up.”

“No, I don’t deserve it.” He was so pathetic, but he didn’t care. “I love you, please, just please. I need you in my life.”

“I don’t know Eddie…”

“So that’s not a no?!” He popped up like an excited little bunny, the silver oh hope he needed to get by.

“Eddie…” you sigh.

“No, no, you said maybe! You don’t know. You haven’t decided. Please, baby, I love you.”

“This is too hard.” Your lip wobbles as you try walking away again, but he interlocks your hand with his.

“Please, can I at least just hold you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You let your hand slip from his grip, and he unwillingly let go.

Eddie felt you slipping through his fingers, literally. The hope he had moments ago was gone.

“I’m sorry”

“So am I…” without another look back, you walked away.

[punkshort]

Roommates | 7. jack and jill

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel organize Tommy and Maria's bachelor and bachelorette party together, making it the first time you've spoken to each other since you moved out.

Chapter Warnings: language, discussions revolving mental health and therapy, insecurity issues, anxiety, angst, alcohol and food consumption, idiots in love but won't admit it, cigarette use, one bed couch trope

WC: 6.8K

Series Masterlist

Five Months Later

Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine. There was no need to be nervous.

Okay, so you were going back to the house for the very first time since you moved out. You didn't count the time last month when you idled in the driveway in your car, waiting to pick Maria up to go to her dress fitting. You avoided it as much as you could, but eventually she asked you to come over to help with wedding planning. She wanted to look over the seating chart and because it was so big and she insisted on making a physical floor plan instead of a digital one, she guilted you into coming to the house.

You didn't have the nerve to ask if Joel would be there, but when you pulled up to the house, your stomach doing cartwheels and threatening to bring up your breakfast, Joel's truck was gone.

Relief and disappointment flooded you all at once.

When you approached the front door, your hand hovered over the doorknob. Should you knock? Do you just walk in? You stood there a minute too long, going back and forth, undecided, until the door swung open with Maria standing on the other side.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know."

She rolled her eyes and opened the door wider. "Don't be weird," she told you as you slid past her into the familiar hall to kick off your sneakers.

Although the house was generally the same, it felt different now.

"Is anyone home?" you asked timidly as you followed her into the kitchen to grab some drinks.

"Tommy's got work," she replied, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge. You took a deep breath and inwardly groaned. She was really going to make you work for it.

"And... Joel?"

She stopped and looked at you like you were speaking another language. "Have you still not spoken to him?"

You chewed on your lower lip and her shoulders sagged.

"C'mon, you promised us you would work things out before you left."

"We will! I've just been... busy, I guess."

"It's been months. You need to talk to him," she scolded, brushing past you as she headed to the dining room table where her seating chart was all spread out. "We're getting close to the big day and you guys need to plan our Jack and Jill."

You cocked an eyebrow at her and took the glass she extended your way. "Jack and Jill?"

"Yeah, y'know, where the bachelor and bachelorette parties join into one big party?" You must have looked confused because she frowned and popped her hand on her hip. "I mentioned this three months ago."

"I know, I know, I just forgot."

"You need to get your shit together. You're my maid of honor! I need you."

"I will, I promise," you said firmly, taking a sip of wine. "I'll text him tomorrow and I'll set something up so we can start planning."

She eyed you up for a moment before dropping into a chair with a sigh. "Thanks. Sorry, I know this is tough but you guys gotta work things out. You're both too important to us."

"We will. Don't even give it another thought." You sat down across from her and glanced around while she opened up a notebook with her guest list. "So, where is he?"

"Well, if you would have called him in the past five months, you would know he moved out."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "When?"

"Like, two months ago, I think."

"Good. That's... good. Good for him."

"He bought a house."

You nearly choked on your wine. "He did?"

She nodded and bit back a grin. "A lot of things have changed. You'd be surprised."

"What's that mean?" you asked with a frown. She just shrugged.

"You'll have to talk to him and find out."

You tossed a piece of popcorn across the table at her and she giggled. "Enough about Joel. Let's get down to business. Like where am I going to put my Aunt Cathie when she refuses to speak to anyone on my side of the family?"

You tapped your chin and looked down at the poster. "Kitchen?"

In hindsight, picking a coffee shop was a bad idea. You were nervous enough as it was, the last thing you needed was extra caffeine. But still you found yourself sitting at a small table by the window twenty minutes before you were supposed to meet Joel, tapping your foot anxiously on the tile floor and turning around every time one of the doors opened.

To kill time, you stared down at your texts from earlier in the week, rereading them over and over, trying to pick up on his energy so you could get an idea of what you were walking into.

Hey

Then, two painful hours later:

Hey

I was hoping we could meet up sometime soon if you're free? Maria not so subtly pointed out we need to plan their Jack and Jill party.

You remembered at the time, the little text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over, as if he were changing his mind until he finally sent:

Sure. Thursday?

Thursday works. Java Joint on third?

I can swing by after work around 4

Okay - looking forward to it :)

Then... nothing.

Maybe the smiley face was overkill.

You drained the last of your iced latte and got up to throw it in the trash. When you sat back down at your table, a flurry of activity caught your attention through the window. Three girls were bouncing on their heels and giggling into their palms, grabbing each other's shoulders with their phones in their hands as they spoke to none other than Joel fucking Miller. He had his sunglasses on and a white Henley shirt, the material stretching across his broad chest and arms. Paired with the confident smirk on his face, he looked devastatingly good. You watched with a twist of envy in your chest as the girls all took selfies with his arm wrapped around their shoulders before he finally jutted his thumb towards the coffee shop and gave them a final wave, turning on his heel and then heading in your direction. Once his back was turned, the girls collectively lost their shit while looking down at their pictures, but you couldn't pay them any more attention because Joel was about to walk through the door.

Butterflies burst in your stomach when he pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, locking eyes with you, and suddenly it felt like no time had passed at all. Memories of watching movies with your feet tucked under his thigh and making dinners together flashed before your eyes while you forced yourself to give him a shy wave.

He simply nodded in return and motioned towards the counter, indicating he was getting something to drink, and when his gaze finally left yours in favor of reading the menu, you let yourself fully take him in. He looked really fucking good. Something was different but you couldn't put your finger on it. Healthier, maybe? Or maybe he just looked happier now without all the stress you brought into his life.

He must have said something flirty to the barista because she giggled and the tips of her ears turned red and, after he paid, he sauntered down the counter, casually resting his elbow on the hard surface while scrolling his phone.

From the look of it, he was no where near as nervous as you felt, which just made your anxiety spike more.

The barista slid his coffee across the counter with a wide smile and he gave her a wink before turning to weave his way through the tables. You straightened up as he approached and tried to look normal.

"Hi."

He sat down across from you, putting his coffee down with a grunt. "Hey."

Your heart was practically wedged in your throat and your fingers wouldn't stop tapping nervously on the table.

"H-how are things?"

He shrugged and took a sip from his cup. "Alright. Busy."

He was looking everywhere but your eyes. You supposed you deserved that, but it still stung.

"How's work?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We don't gotta do this, y'know."

"Do what?"

"This," he said, waving his finger back and forth between you. "We can be civil for the sake of Tommy and Maria but we don't gotta pretend this is somethin' it ain't."

You tried to hide the hurt from your eyes but he must have clocked it because he pinched the bridge of his nose and made a frustrated sound.

"Don't gimme that look."

"I'm not," you replied defiantly, staring down at your fingers now. "I'm sorry, Joel. For all of it."

"You made that pretty damn clear when you left."

Your eyes snapped up to him as he took another sip from his coffee and looked around the café. Then your gaze fell onto the writing on his cup: a name with a phone number and a little heart and your stomach rolled but you took a deep breath, just like you practiced, and let it go.

"I didn't leave because I regretted it," you whispered. His eyes finally landed on you, patiently waiting for you to speak again. "I left because I couldn't stay away from you."

His eyes softened but he remained quiet, so you took a shaky breath in and continued.

"I needed time to think over what I did and why I did it and what I really want," you nervously began to shred your straw wrapper as you spoke. "And I couldn't do that with you so goddamn close because there's just something about you that drives me fucking crazy."

His lips twitched. "Crazy in what way?"

You sighed and slumped down in your chair. "Crazy as in every time I see you I want to kiss you and laugh with you and tell you about my day and just... be near you."

"Then why the hell didn't you wanna try 'n make it work?"

"Because of your job," you groaned pathetically, knowing full well you sounded like a broken record. "It's not your fault, Joel, it's mine. I have... issues. But I'm working on it. I've started seeing a therapist-"

"What issues?" he pressed.

"Jealousy, insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety... you name it."

He took a deep breath and readjusted in his chair so he was facing you instead of the café. "I didn't know you were goin' through all that. Is it helpin'?" he asked softly, and for the first time you thought you heard the Joel you used to know.

"Yeah, but it's hard," you replied. "It takes a lot of work to change the way you think and react to something. But I'm trying. Really, I am. Because-" you took a deep breath and raked your fingers through your hair. "No one makes me happy the way you made me happy. And I really, really fucking miss you." Tears welled up in your eyes that you quickly blinked away. Crying in the middle of a coffee shop was not on your list of things to do that day.

"What are you tryin' to tell me?" he asked, dropping his head so he could catch your eye. "Hm? Say it."

"I know I blew my chance with you and I don't deserve another one, but can we please try to be friends again?"

His gaze bounced back and forth between your eyes, studying your expression before slowly straightening up in his seat. "Friends?"

You nodded weakly, your lips pressed into a thin line.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered it.

"What'll that look like?"

You frowned and gave him a little shrug. "Joke around. Inquire about each other's lives. Help each other out. Be supportive of one another."

He nodded along as you listed everything off with a confused look on your face, unclear as to why he was asking you to define friendship. "That's it?"

"What do you mean?"

"That's all you want?"

And there it was again: that undeniable pull, that undercurrent of tension bonding you together, making you question every word and every look.

"Yes," you finally answered quietly. It was a lie, of course, but you were too scared to put yourself fully out there. You already felt vulnerable enough with what you confessed and you couldn't stand the rejection if you told him the truth.

He ticked his jaw to the side and you could have sworn in that moment, he saw right through you. But maybe you were wrong, because his next words were -

"Alright, then. Let's be friends."

Your eyes lit up as he pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app.

"Thank you, Joel."

He nodded without looking up. "What weekend were you thinkin' for this party?"

"So you two kissed and made up?"

You scowled at Maria over the aisle at a local florist.

"We did not kiss, thank you."

She grinned and rolled her eyes before picking up a deep pink carnation. "It's a figure of speech, but you never know."

"Things are fine. I mean, they aren't like they were before, I doubt it ever will be, but you have nothing to worry about. We can be in the same room together without anything getting weird. I don't like that one," you added when she picked up a red poppy. She plunked it back down in the bucket and kept browsing.

"Good. And how's the party planning?"

"Really good, we're almost all done. I just need to pick up the shirts and the favors and we should be good to go."

"I can't thank you enough for organizing this for us, I'm so excited! It's gonna be the best weekend ever," she gushed, picking up a few other flowers in similar shades of pink.

"Well, hopefully your actual wedding will be a better weekend, but I appreciate the sentiment," you giggled.

"How are we doing ladies? Do you have any questions?" asked the florist, an older man who was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Maria launched into a laundry list of questions and you grinned before leaning against the register and pulling out your phone. You had to actively stop yourself from opening up your text chain with Joel. In the past, aside from Maria, he was your person. He was the one you always texted silly things to whenever you were bored or lonely. Even though he agreed to be friends again, it had yet to feel the same. In fact, you still hadn't seen him since that day in the coffee shop. You had managed to do all the planning for the Jack and Jill over the phone, but you didn't want to tell Maria that. Something told you she would want you to try harder with him and you were too nervous to stick your neck out there. The shame you harbored for the way everything fell apart after the camping trip was too great.

"You wanna grab lunch?" she asked once she was done going over in excruciating detail the flowers she wanted in each bouquet and centerpiece.

"God, yes."

There was a nearby Mexican place you both loved so you ordered a couple margaritas while you waited for your food.

"Can I ask you a question that I've been dying to know the answer to but wanted to get you loosened up on booze first?"

You quirked an eyebrow at Maria and nodded hesitantly.

"Have you talked to Sam?"

You closed your eyes and groaned.

"Very briefly, only once. About a month after... you know."

She sipped her drink and nodded. "And?"

"It went about as well as you could expect. I tried to apologize but he was so hurt, I think I just made things worse."

"Thank god he got that new job. The timing couldn't have been better," she said, then winced when she saw the look in your face. "I'm sorry, I just meant at least you didn't have to worry about work being a factor. You had enough going on as it was."

"I know what you meant, it's okay," you assured her.

Maria stirred her drink with her straw for a moment, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence while you listened to Latin music over the speakers and blankly watched some soccer match that was muted on the TV over the bar.

"Can I ask you another messy question?" she finally asked. You grinned and shrugged.

"Go for it."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and dropped your gaze to the table. "What was I gonna say? 'Oh, by the way, I'm fucking your boyfriend's brother behind my boyfriend's back?' You would have slapped me."

She laughed and leaned back in her seat to make room for the sizzling fajitas that got placed down in front of you both. She eagerly picked one up and began to pour salsa and sour cream on top before she spoke again.

"I don't think I would have slapped you, but I definitely would have made you to dump Sam and get with Joel."

"Yeah, that's not something I would have wanted to hear," you told her with a laugh.

"So," she said, wiping some sour cream from the corner of her mouth, "you didn't wanna date him because of his job, but fucking him was okay?"

You paused your chewing and gave her a blank stare. "What happened didn't make a ton of sense, but I can tell you this much: I was in deep denial over what was happening with Joel. I told myself it was just a friends with benefits thing and it didn't mean anything, but there's just something about him that I can't describe. Like we have some connection that's impossible to ignore, or something? Even the annoying things about him make me smile. I know I sound crazy, I'll shut up," you said when you noticed the incredulous look on Maria's face.

"Girl, you love him."

You balked and nearly choked on your taco. "No."

"Yes."

You shook your head and took a big sip from your margarita. "I care about him deeply but I'm not in love with him."

Maria widened her eyes in disbelief and looked back down at her food. "Okay... just sounds to me like something more."

You quickly changed the subject to her wedding dress, which easily distracted her while you let what she said about Joel marinate. Were you in love with Joel? Is that why you couldn't let Sam in? Were you that blind?

In the end, you decided to let it go. It didn't matter, anyway. What you had with Joel was over, and after the way things ended, you couldn't imagine a situation where he would ever want to give you another chance, assuming you could get past all your insecurities surrounding his profession. Therapy was helping, but you had a long way to go, and ultimately you were seeking help to better yourself overall, not to make things work with Joel.

Maria had told you Joel bought a house but for some reason, you imagined it was a small ranch house somewhere, not a gorgeous two-story relatively new build. Or so, it looked new as you walked up the driveway and stared at the new black roof and white siding. You could feel your heart beginning to beat faster the closer you got to his front porch, gripping the brown paper bag at your side with sweaty fingers.

Stop it, you're just leaving the shirts at his door, there's no need to be nervous.

You climbed the creaky wooden steps and looked at the two Adirondack chairs with a table in between and suddenly you felt a pit form in your stomach. Two?

Why hadn't it occurred to you before now that he could be seeing someone? What if he was bringing her as a date to the wedding?

Stop. It. Drop the bag and fucking go.

You nestled the paper bag behind one of the chairs and turned to leave when you heard the front door squeak open.

"What're you doin'?"

You closed your eyes and silently cursed to yourself before spinning around with a forced smile on your face, only to have it immediately slip with you saw Joel had greeted you completely shirtless with his hair a disheveled mess.

Shit.

"Hey, I'm, uh, just dropping off the shirts for the guys," you pointed to the paper bag, his eyes following your finger.

He opened the screen door, stepping out to pick it up and you had to look away. He was wearing basketball shorts and the material clung around his bulge just a little too well.

"Why didn't you just knock?"

"Um," you took a breath and met his gaze, refusing to let your eyes drop lower than his neck. "Didn't wanna bother you."

"It's no bother. You wanna come in?" he asked. You finally picked up on the gravelly sound to his voice once you were able to ignore his smooth, broad chest.

"Did you just wake up?"

He shrugged and gave you half a smirk while he held the door open.

"Worked late."

"Ah," you replied, gaze dropping to the porch while you rocked back and forth on your heels. Work.

"You comin' in or not? I'm lettin' flies in."

"Uh, sure," you finally decided, sneaking past him, purposely holding your breath so you wouldn't breathe in his intoxicating scent.

His front door opened into his living room, which was about how you expected it to look: a dark couch with a matching chair surrounding a glass coffee table in front of a big screen TV with green and blue plastic clamshell video game cases scattered on the floor.

"Want somethin' to drink?" he asked, brushing past you as he ambled into his kitchen. You followed, noting his house seemed to lack... something.

"Water's fine."

It was bare. That's what it was. It hit you when you were in the kitchen. He had all the essentials but there was no warmth, no decorations, no pictures.

"Did you just move in?" you asked, then thanked him when he handed you a bottle of water.

"'Bout three months ago."

"Oh," you replied before taking a slow sip of water, your eyes darting around the sparse kitchen. "It's nice," you finally said when you pulled the bottle from your lips.

At least you could be sure he wasn't living with a girl. His home practically screamed bachelor pad.

"Thanks. How's your ma?" he asked before picking up a half drank mug of coffee.

You leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed your arms. "She's good. She's already found a new boyfriend. And here I thought I was doing her a favor by moving in and keeping her company," you said with a soft laugh. "Now I feel like I'm in the way of her exciting social life."

Joel nodded and sat down at the kitchen table with a grunt, his legs spread wide as he leaned back into the chair.

"Been meanin' to apologize to you," he said, staring down at his coffee sitting on the table. "Shoulda been there to help you move out, or at least say bye. I'm real sorry 'bout that."

That took you by surprise.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said immediately with a shake of your head. "It would have been too painful, anyway."

Joel took a deep breath through his nose. "Yeah, reckon that's why I bailed that day."

Neither of you said anything for a moment, both of you thinking back to that week when everything fell apart.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Joel," you said quietly. He frowned and looked up.

"What you did to me?"

"Yeah. For pulling you into my mess and hurting you. It was never my intention, but I recognize it was my fault. I started it. I kissed you. I came to your room that day. It's all on me, okay?" You looked at him with raw pain in your eyes and he sighed.

"Darlin', if you didn't start it, I would've. It ain't all on you," he told you softly.

You nodded and you felt tears welling up in your eyes, so you dropped your gaze to the floor and pressed your lips into a thin line, trying to stifle your emotion, but Joel could see it.

"It was fun while it lasted though, huh?" he joked, then grinned when you laughed and swiped away a stray tear.

"Yeah," you sniffled with a smile.

Joel pursed his lips and looked back down at his mug, his middle finger gently tracing the lip of the ceramic when he asked, "you seein' anyone?"

You shook your head. "No. I think it's probably best I take some time to work on myself first."

The same question for him was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn't bring yourself to ask because if the answer was yes, you weren't sure you were ready to hear it.

"Well, anyway," he said with a slap to his thighs, "everythin' ready for tomorrow? Need me to do anythin'?"

You smiled and shook your head. "Just handle the guys and I'll handle the girls. I have all the money to pay the limo bus driver. Did you have enough for the booze?"

"Mhm, no problem there," Joel said after taking a sip from his now lukewarm coffee.

The goal was to bar crawl some local spots in downtown Austin and in between, party on the limo bus.

"Just make sure to have a good playlist ready so we can connect to the speakers on the bus," you told him as you headed for the front door.

"Y'leavin'?" he asked, getting up to follow you. You shrugged and slid your shoes back on.

"Yeah, unless there was something else?"

He scratched his beard while he struggled to come up with anything that might make you stay. It just felt too nice to have you around again and he didn't want it to end.

"No, nothin' else," he finally said. "See you tomorrow."

Back to the scene of the crime, you almost let slip, but fortunately common sense kicked in and said, "Tommy and Maria's, 8pm so you can help me pack up the bus before everyone arrives."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you jog down his porch steps, tossing one more wave over your shoulder before getting into your car. As he watched you drive away, he tried to stifle that familiar, desperate feeling he always felt whenever you left and forced himself to go back inside.

The party bus was already wild before it reached the end of the street. You just sat down after passing around Jell-O shots and making sure the snacks and waters you brought were readily available to the entire bus when Maria shoved a solo cup in your hand.

"What's this?" you asked over the roar coming from the speakers blaring AC/DC and the guys screaming along to the lyrics after they all did a toast to Tommy, throwing back shots of tequila.

"Jungle juice!" she replied with a grin. You took a sip and raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Not bad!"

The lights on the bus dimmed and you looked up to find Joel playing around with the knobs at the front of the bus. Suddenly, brightly colored lights that lined the floor and roof of the bus turned on, painting everyone in a red glow that faded to orange then to all the colors of the rainbow.

"Come on, Tommy! Show us what you got!" one of Maria's bridesmaids yelled when Tommy stood up and leaned on the stripper pole in the middle of the floor for support when the bus took a turn.

"I ain't drunk enough yet, ladies!" he replied with a lopsided grin. Joel chuckled as he made his way back to his seat.

"What about you, Joel?" she asked, then all the groomsmen began whooping and pumping their fists, encouraging him, but he shook his head and sat down.

"Gotta pay me extra for that," he smirked. He brought his beer to his lips and glanced briefly in your direction before looking away.

The whole bus was wearing matching white shirts with Tommy and Maria's names printed on the back with the date of their wedding and a note at the bottom that, depending if you were a girl or a guy, said if found, please return me to the bride/groom.

On the front of the shirts was a big box where everyone could tally all the drinks and shots they had that evening with the sharpie necklaces you handed out as everyone boarded the bus. So far, most people had at least one drink or shot under their belts.

"Alright, who wants to play Tipsy Hoe?" you called out while holding up a stack of index cards. The bus cheered so you began to explain the rules. "We pick one card with a specific word on it that nobody's allowed to say. The person who says it first has to take a shot and then we pick another one."

Another of Maria's bridesmaids eagerly volunteered to pick the first card. You fanned them out as she carefully chose one from the middle and read it. "The word is Bride!" she announced, and half the bus collapsed into laughter.

"Take a shot, you can't say it! Just hold it up!" you giggled when she laughed and buried her face in her hands. "Okay, go again."

After taking a shot and drawing another tally mark on her shirt, she picked another card and this time, held it up for everyone to see: dress.

"What's that say? I can't read it?" Joel teased from the back, and she stuck out her tongue.

"Ha ha, not falling for it."

You sat back down and took a sip from your cup before leaning into Maria's side to take a few selfies only for them to come out completely blurry from the dim lighting, but you saved them anyway.

Joel brushed past the two of you to go to the front of the bus and direct the driver on where to drop the group off for the first bar, and as the bus slowed down, most people chugged the rest of their drinks and added a mark to their shirts before standing up and filing out the door.

"Jesus, Tommy, when'd you have four drinks?" Maria asked when she saw his shirt. He grinned and draped an arm around her shoulders.

"What can I say? The guys can be persuasive."

"Hey, don't you know that girl over there?" Joel asked when he suddenly appeared at your side with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He pointed over to a group of three girls standing right outside the bar with sparkly outfits on and heavy eyeshadow.

"Which one?"

"The one in the blue."

"The blue top or the blue dress?"

He smirked and shot you a wink before taking a deep drag of his cigarette. You groaned and slapped your palm to your face.

"I can't believe I fell for that."

He laughed, a plume of smoke rolling from his lips, then tossed the cigarette on the ground. "C'mon, I'll buy you the shot."

"It's the least you could do," you teased, following him inside past the bouncer. The bar was dark and really fucking loud as you weaved your way through the throngs of sweaty people until Joel managed to squeeze his way to the bar and flag down a bartender. While you waited for your drinks, you tried to locate the rest of the group, but the only people you saw were Maria and Tommy down at the other end of the bar with one other groomsman you didn't know very well.

"Bottoms up," Joel told you after handing you the shot and a mixed drink. You winced when you tossed it back, then handed him the empty glass. He pushed it back across the sticky bar along with his own empty shot glass then pointed to your shirt.

"Ah, right," you mumbled before uncapping the sharpie around your neck and scribbling a tick mark on the fabric. Joel stretched his own shirt out and you hesitated for just a second before drawing a quick mark on his shirt and tried not to focus too much on the sweat that had soaked through the collar already.

"You stayin' at Tommy and Maria's tonight?" he asked. He brought a bottle of beer to his lips and took a long sip but didn't take his eyes away from you.

"Yeah, I can't imagine driving home at this rate," you replied while motioning to your shirt with your free hand. He nodded and let his eyes drift around the room behind you, head nodding slightly to the beat of the music before he said, "Maybe we can watch a movie. Like old times."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You're staying over, too?"

He nodded again and took another drink as your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Maria conveniently failed to mention he was planning on staying the night, as well. Where the hell did she expect you both to sleep when there was only one couch?

You scanned the bar and found her laughing at something Tommy was saying, waving his hands around dramatically as he told some story. Narrowing your eyes, you hoped she could feel the heat from your stare, but of course she was oblivious.

Just as you were about to reply to him about the movie, you felt someone's arm snake around your waist right before their overpowering cologne made you gag.

"You wanna dance?" a voice slurred in your ear, and you immediately twisted away from his sour breath and turned to face him. He wasn't with your group, just some other patron, and he looked completely wasted. A thin sheen of sweat covered his neck and face and his eyes looked glassy as he stared down at you, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, no thank you! I was just leaving."

"Aw, come on, just one dance?" the stranger pushed with a lopsided grin but it just made him look even more sloppy.

"She's with me," Joel said defensively before tugging you closer and tucking you under his arm. You could smell his deodorant and soap and it instantly transported you back in time to the point where you had to fight the urge to bury your face against his chest and breathe deep.

"My bad," the guy said, raising his hands defensively before walking away.

"Thanks," you said so softly you weren't sure he could hear you over the music, but he did. He dropped his arm and cleared his throat as you tried to create a bit of space between you again without being awkward, but it was hard to do.

"I hope you don't feel like you can't dance with other guys 'cause I'm here," he said.

"No, I know, I'm just not looking for... that right now," you assured him before taking a long sip from your drink and glancing around the bar.

"Right, you mentioned that," he replied. The topic of your love life caused a heavy silence to settle between you even though you were surrounded by noise. Right when you were about to make an excuse and leave, he spoke again.

"How's all that goin', by the way? Therapy?"

"It's... going okay," you said. What was he getting at?

He tossed back the rest of his beer and slid the empty across the bar.

"Okay enough to start datin' again soon?"

You swallowed nervously. Was he asking for a specific reason?

The look on your face made him switch gears because he grinned and shrugged. "Friends ask 'bout each other, right?"

Oh.

"They do."

He nodded, his smile faltering a moment when his gaze slid to your lips before he forced himself to look away. "C'mon, let's find the rest of the party." Then he took your hand and led you through the crowd.

Stop it, get it together, he's just being nice, like you asked, you told yourself. But you really, really hoped you were wrong.

"Here's some extra pillows and blankets," Maria sang gleefully with a shit eating grin.

"I can't believe you," you seethed quietly so Joel wouldn't hear you from downstairs.

"What? I forgot Tommy told Joel he could stay over," she said with a tipsy shrug.

"I'm half tempted to call an Uber."

"Don't you fucking dare. Now be an adult and go sleep with your ex," she giggled, giving your shoulder a shove to make you move towards the direction of the stairs.

"Hilarious," you replied dryly, but before you took another step she pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you so much for tonight, we had such a," she hiccuped before pulling away, "great time."

You blew her a kiss before giving her the finger. "Love you."

"Love you, too!" she practically shouted, and you turned around halfway down the stairs to shush her. She slapped her hands over her mouth and giggled before stumbling into her bedroom and shutting the door.

"Wha' the hell was she shoutin' for?" Joel asked groggily from his spot splayed out on the couch, remote control hanging limply from his fingers as he blinked at the TV, trying to clear his vision.

"Nothing. Here," you said, tossing him a pillow and blanket. He reached out to catch them but missed, then started to giggle when he accidentally slid from the couch onto the floor to pick them up. You grinned and threw yours on the other end of the couch and wandered into the kitchen, returning with two bottles of ice cold water. "Drink this," you said with a yawn. He took it and you plopped down on the other end of the couch while Joel flicked through title after title on one of the many streaming services Tommy and Maria had.

While Joel continued to browse, you shifted uncomfortably before setting down your water and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. With practiced ease, you pulled it out from under your shirt without having to remove any clothes and tossed it on the floor. Joel's eyes widened when he saw it and looked at you.

"Don't get any ideas, I just can't sleep in a bra."

He smirked before picking a romcom and settling in under his blanket. "Next you gonna tell me you can't sleep with panties on?"

You snorted and felt your cheeks flush but thankfully the lights in the living room were off, leaving only the glow from the television to light the room.

"You wish."

The alcohol was making both of you way flirtier than you intended to be, so you shut up. You watched the movie hazily for a while, laughing softly at Hugh Grant's charismatic humor. It was quiet for so long that you had assumed Joel fell asleep until he suddenly spoke again.

"This's nice."

You rolled your head to the side and smiled at him. "Yeah, it is."

He smiled back, his eyes bright from the glow from the television, cheeks still a little pink from the booze as he looked you up and down. "C'mere."

You pinched your eyebrows together. "Why?" you asked slowly. He rolled his eyes and waved you over.

"Jus' get your ass over here."

With a sigh, you scooted over to his end of the couch and once you got close enough, he threw his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. You let out a quiet oof when the side of your face came in contact with his chest, but god the way he smelled had you reeling for the second time that night. Even with the lingering scent of cigarette smoke and spilled liquor, he still smelled amazing. He smelled like him. A comforting smell you missed so much in the past five months that it almost hurt to have it back again.

His hand gently stroked your back as you watched the movie. The steady thrum of his heart beating against your ear combined with the alcohol and his warmth made your eyelids droop and before you knew it, you were out like a light. When Joel realized you were asleep, he looked down at you and smiled before turning off the television and slowly rotating you both so you were laying (albeit, scrunched) together along the couch. His arm remained wrapped around you and your face was buried against his chest with one of your legs draped over one of his and everything finally felt right again.

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[togrowoldinv]

Meeting the Team

Carol Danvers x Female Reader

Carol brings Monica and Kamala home to take refuge for an evening and to meet her wife. Fluff ensues

Note: I was just thinking about Carol having a secret wife and the lovely Monica and Kamala meeting her. Enjoy this one!

Carol Danvers Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You’re stirred from your sleep when you hear the sound of a ship landing near your house. You hope it’s Carol’s.

When you hear the sound of the front door unlocking, you roll out of bed and walk to greet her in the front room.

She’s in her suit but it looks a little worse for wear. Carol catches sight of you and the weight falls off her shoulders.

“Hey sweetheart,” Carol says softly, a smirk rests on her face.

You cross the room quickly and pull her into a hug. She flinches due to her own soreness but keeps hugging you anyways.

“Are you okay?” You ask her, grabbing her face in your hands.

“I’m okay,” she says.

Her eyes are determined. You realize she’s here just for a short time to regroup or gather some information.

“I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you,” Carol replies.

You lean in to kiss her but you stop short when you see two women, or rather one woman and one teenage girl, walk in the door behind her.

“Carol?” You alert her to the presence.

“It’s okay,” Carol says. “We’re- well I guess we’re a team.”

“We are so a team,” the teenage girl says.

Carol tries to hold back a smile but you see it on her face that she likes these teammates. She turns around and holds you by the waist.

“Y/n, this is Kamala and Monica,” Carol says.

“Wait, the Monica?” You ask. The woman’s eyes flash to Carol’s at your words.

“Yeah,” Carol says. “Our powers are entangled.”

“Right, okay. It’s nice to meet you both, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” you say.

They move to sit on the couch. Carol goes to the bathroom to freshen up first.

“What was your name again?” Monica asks you.

“Y/n,” you supply. “I’m Carol’s wife.”

“Oh my god,” Kamala says, mostly to herself.

“What?” You ask.

“Oh, she’s just a fan girl,” Monica explains. “She’ll be writing fanfiction later about Carol having a secret wife.”

You chuckle at the girl’s antics. You can’t blame her for loving Carol enough to want to create new versions of her.

“Carol and I got married a few years ago,” you say. “But we really haven’t been able to spend much time together. Planets need saving and all that.”

“Sounds familiar,” Monica says.

Carol enters the room and sits down next to you with a sigh. You want to ask more about her reuniting with Monica but that’s for another time when it’s just the two of you.

“Do you have powers?” Kamala asks. You realize this girl has a talent for breaking awkward silences.

“I do not,” you say. “Although, wrangling this one in should be considered a power.”

“Wow,” Carol says. “I’m offended.”

“Don’t be, baby,” you say. You kiss her cheek and she tries to hide her blush. “It’s a privilege to love you. Even when you run off to space for months at a time.”

“You could go with me if you want,” Carol shrugs.

“Nope. That’s your world up there. Not mine,” you reply. Carol only smiles. “Are you guys hungry?”

“Starving,” Kamala answers. “I mean no, we’re good.”

“Come with me,” you tell her.

You lead the girl into the kitchen and let her take her pick of food to eat. She settles on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Kamala asks you a few questions about Carol and your relationship. She seems genuinely excited with every answer she receives.

Monica and Carol are in the living room still. You don’t hear much talking, so you make Carol a sandwich and go get her.

“Babe, I made you a sandwich,” you say. “Please eat at least half. I know you haven’t been remembering to eat a lot.”

“I’m fine,” Carol says. “I get enough.”

“Go.” You leave no room for argument. She sighs and goes to the kitchen. That leaves you alone with Monica.

The woman is sitting on the couch. You know from her vantage point that she can see the framed photo of Maria that Carol keeps on the shelf.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” you say, not really knowing what to say.

“Oh, thanks,” she replies.

“You know I think Carol has some more pictures around here somewhere,” you say. “Maybe next time you come by we can look for them.”

“Yeah,” Monica says noncommittally.

“Do you need anything? A drink, food, medicine?” You ask.

“Thank you. I’m okay,” Monica says.

“Are you sure? I can tell Carol is sore so I can imagine you all are,” you say.

“You can tell that about her just from looking at her?”

“From the hug. She flinched,” you explain. “She never admits she’s hurting, but I know she is. Although, I do see a part of her healing. Probably from reuniting with you. She seems happier.”

Monica nods. She knows that this has meant a lot to Carol. It means a lot to her too, but right now she’s still a bit hardened to the idea of being in her presence again.

Carol and Kamala come back into the room before you can say anything else. You help show them where to sleep and then end up back your bedroom with Carol.

She changes into some pajamas and snuggles into bed next to you. You rest your head against her shoulder.

“How long?” You ask her.

“Just until morning,” Carol replies. “I need to fix a part of my ship. And I wanted to see you.”

“How are you doing with this whole Monica thing?”

Carol takes a deep breath. She hasn’t really had time to stop and think about it.

“I’m okay I think,” she says. “I’m good. It’s amazing how she’s grown up to be so wonderful.”

“Yeah? She has powers, that’s insane.”

“I know,” Carol says. “I didn’t know that until I saw her with Fury. She’s really a great person too. I definitely couldn’t keep Kamala as safe without her.”

“What’s the deal with Kamala? She’s a kid who loves you?” You ask, a chuckle escaping from your lips.

“Apparently,” Carol sighs. “But I really don’t feel like I’m a good role model for her. Maybe she’s seeing that in the choices I’ve already had to make in front of her.”

“Hey, you always do your best. Sacrifices are necessary. You know that, baby,” you try to encourage her. “The way that girl looks at you definitely makes me know that she looks up to you.”

Carol kisses your head and rubs a hand over your back. It’s slightly warmer than normal, meaning she’s using her powers to help you relax.

“We need some sleep,” Carol says.

“We do,” you reply. “Hey, don’t let me forget to tell Kamala in the morning about how we met.”

“Oh god, she’s going to write a story about it,” Carol says. “Whatever fanfiction is.”

“It’s fantastic,” you reply.

“You know what it is?”

“Of course, babe.”

“And you’ve read it?” She asks. You nod. “About me?”

“No,” you laugh out. “I don’t need to when I have you already, my love. Although, I do need some new content.”

Carol grins mischievously. She’s sent you countless videos, pictures, and voice memos over the years. But it has been a while since she has done that for you.

“Tell you what, when this thing is over I’m coming back home for a while,” she says. “And we can spend our time doing whatever we want.”

“I’d love that,” you say. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, my beautiful wife,” Carol replies.

You kiss her lips for a few minutes before you both feel the weight of sleep fall over you.

When you wake in the morning, you spend a few more hours with Carol, Kamala, and Monica. The goodbye is always hard, but you know Carol will come back to you. She always does.