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xzaddyzanakinx · 5 months

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Not That Kind of Guy

Part Nine: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, nude vids/pics, rape mentioned (somnophilia), gen. sexual content, Panic/Anxiety Attack, forced nudity [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin/Ghost having thoughts?? Unselfish ones?? Luke can’t stop roasting/sassing you [diary entries from Ani] [texting/letters/notes]extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: August 10th

I think enough time has passed. I think you’re ready to see Ghost again.

I thought it would take longer for you to recover, but as always, the little fawn in you is curious as ever. Quick to forget fear and ready for the newest challenge.

You’ve responded so well to everything. I’m very proud of you.

I’ve been keeping up with my visits, still cleaning, still watching, still following and protecting.

Now that you know of Ghost, I’ve started completing my tasks. I don’t have to leave anything halfway finished, the dishes are done everyday along with the vacuuming and dusting. I even mop twice a week.

And change the cat litter, which might I add, is disgusting. (Worth it though because I love that little menace.)

I thought for sure you’d run and tell me that you didn’t think the alarms I installed weren’t working, but you didn’t, you just repeatedly tested them yourself. It was very loud, very annoying and I know you could hear the woman down the hall banging her pots and pans together to fight back with her own noise. You didn’t care though, you just wanted to make sure the alarms worked.

They do work, I wouldn’t have installed fake ones, that would be stupid. I’m all for keeping you safe so… what’s one more safety measure?

I just know that they can also be very easily disarmed. Even through the inch and a half thick wooden door to your apartment. A piece of sheet metal (credit card sized) and my handy dandy super strength magnet works like a charm.

You’re such an odd bird. You haven’t told anyone, I don’t think it’s really even crossed your mind too much either. You’ve begun to pretend the cameras aren’t even there. You just go about your normal day to day life and occasionally squint and stare at random objects.

You never actually go check them out though. Is it all for show? I think it might be.

I think you like being watched. I bet it makes you feel safe doesn’t it? Knowing I’m always there for you?

——————————————————————————

You know what the best part of all this is?

Ghost will let me love you in the way that is natural and normal to me. I just hope that you’ll be willing to accept that we are one in the same.

Ghost can comfortably do all the things that I’ve been afraid to. I didn’t want to scare you, but it really was difficult not to leave you things. I’m so glad that you brought that up in your list of questions because it gave me the opportunity to act on it without you flipping out.

Do you like them? I love leaving things for you. Especially little notes.

Ghost has been kind enough to stay out of your way when I’m around, but I can resist making you squirm occasionally. Remember when I left you a note, KNOWING I’d be coming home with you later that day?

Oh babe. It was so oddly intoxicating to see the way you reacted when I got back home and pulled up the footage. You snatched up that slip of paper didn’t read it and didn’t toss it in the trash, didn’t put it in your pocket.

You shoved it in your mouth so I wouldn’t see it. Freak.

I saw it all chewed up and gross in the bathroom trash. You didn’t read it. I know you didn’t. So I’ll have to get alittle more creative.

Don’t ignore me.

DATE

August 13th

For the third morning in a row you woke up to a text from your own cellphone number.

‘Sleep well deer?’

Idiot. Can’t even spell. So finally on this third day, you sent a text back and corrected him.

‘Dear*’

Immediately a response buzzed through.

‘No.’

No? What does he mean no?

‘Little doe. My deer. 🦌’

Oh great, so stalkers use emojis and he’s given you a nickname. How cute.

You laid back in your bed and tossed your phone aside, hands covering your face as you rubbed the sleep away.

The longer this went on, the more insane you felt. This wasn’t normal, of course it’s not normal. So why are you allowing it?

You could ask yourself that a million times and you’d never find an answer.

You could throw away every flower he brought you and they’d still keep coming. You could burn every piece of paper in the city and chew every pen until it’s broken beyond repair and he would still find a way to write you a note.

You could swallow every word he writes, throw it up, flush it, whatever. It’s just going to pop back up. Gross and soggy with an amendment attached and in your panty drawer.

You thought maybe it was an important one. So you read it. Quickly discovered it was semi-important, Ghost just wanted to remind you that he loved you and he was proud of you for continuing to drink your tea even though you knew it was drugged. Once you’re out of it, he’s going to set the pills out next to your birth control. So he ‘doesn’t have to fool with measurements anymore’.

The addendum to the note was tucked inside the original:

‘Good girls swallow.’

You could ignore the trinkets, the jewelry or the pretty stones and shells. But he would just move them to a different spot and force you to eventually set it in your jewelry box along with all the others.

He’s not been bold enough to come around with Anakin in your home. The nights that Anakin sleeps over, there are no gifts, no cleaning done. No disturbances.

But Anakin doesn’t deter him completely.

He’s left you one note at Anakin’s apartment, the first time you’d slept away from your own home in ages. Ghost had the audacity to slip a note into the pocket of your shorts while you slept in the same bed as Anakin in his apartment.

It didn’t say anything, no words, just a heart in red ink. Like he just wanted to remind you that he was there and you were his whether you wanted to be or not. Anakin or no Anakin, Ghost didn’t care.

It’s been horrible lying… omitting the truth to Anakin. Sometimes you feel like blurting it out, but something always stops you. Morbid curiosity maybe. Or maybe you just like the thrill of it, that little shiver of adrenaline you get every time he makes himself known.

It would all stop if you told Anakin. Neither would quit until he’d hunted the other man down and gotten rid of him.

They’d kill each other.

——————————————————————————

Anakin worked tonight, so you had plans to meet up with Luke (sans his pet leech) for a late evening dinner. As much as you loved Han and appreciated everything he did for Luke, how happy he made him, you really just wanted some time alone with your best friend.

So you were thrilled to receive a text around 1:00pm from Luke:

‘Don’t be late. I’m dying to catch up babe.’

You quickly opened the message but before you finished typing, a voice message popped up in your notifications, sent from your number.

You abandoned the chat with Luke and opted to open the voice message instead.

‘I’m coming home.’ then a long pause, ‘have fun with Lukey.’

That scratchy filtered voice; you’d yet to hear it over the phone and this being the first time… it sent you right back to the very first time you watched Scream. That icy chill that snuck up the back of your neck, the tightening of your chest… you felt it now, just not because of fear.

You felt it because you were excited.

——————————————————————————

“Okay, seriously what do you keep looking at?” Luke prodded, snatching your phone and sliding it into his jacket pocket.

“Nothing it’s just-“

“My phone is on ‘do no disturb’, because I have missed my buddy, my pal, my best friend.” He paused, his pointer finger jabbing the table between your plate and his.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I haven’t even unlocked it! It’s just sitting there.”

“True, but the obnoxious tapping to check whatever it is you’re hoping for is getting annoying.” Honesty, brutal or not, was Luke’s love language.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in my pocket.” You agreed, holding your hand out palm up.

“No ma’am. This is mine until the check comes.” His answer was definitive, no room for argument there. “What’s so important anyway? I know Anakin is at work.”

“It’s just work stuff.” You huffed.

“Oh? What’s so pressing at the diner?” He scoffed, “got a big shipment of ketchup coming in? Are you ‘on call’?”

“Luke.” You rolled your eyes at his jab. “No and yes. I am ‘on call’ actually. Sara’s son has been sick.’

Not a total lie, he has been sick. Poor guy. But her husband was home with him and he was being well looked after.

“Okay? That’s your problem how?”

“God you’re so negative sometimes.” You sighed. “Her babysitter hates vomit. If he throws up Sara will have to go home.”

“Ew.” He scrunched up his nose. “I’m eating.”

“Okay? That’s my problem how?” You said mockingly.

“Really? Like for real that’s why you keep checking your phone?”

“Yes really.” Giving him a look that screamed duh’. “Her baby sitter is the 14 year old girl that lives next door to her. Do you really suggest leaving a 14 year old in charge of a vomiting 2 year old? When that 14 year old is disgusted by puke? That’s a recipe for disaster.”

It would be a disaster, her sitter is 14. She just happens to be on vacation with her mother right now. Hence the temporary stay at home husband.

“Okay, first of all, 14? Isn’t that alittle young?”

“No? I started babysitting when I was 12.” You shrugged.

“Fine.” Luke sighed. “Here.”

He slid your phone back to you and propped his chin up on his fist. Watching you check it one last time before turning on the sound and putting it in your back pocket.

——————————————————————————

‘I’m walking home now!’

You shot off the text to Anakin after saying your goodbye to Luke at the restaurant. You’d refused his offer to walk you home, you didn’t want him anywhere near your apartment building knowing that Ghost would be there.

Six minutes later he replied:

‘Good girl.🥰 let me know when you get there safe.’

‘Will do💕’

And you did, the moment you stood outside your apartment door.

‘Made it! See you tomorrow💕’

You waited in the hall to receive his response. You didn’t know what would be waiting for you on the other side of this door, and you didn’t want to chance it.

‘Perfect. Sweet dreams doll!’

Your hand poised at the door knob, you inserted your key to discover your door was already unlocked. You very slowly opened the door, but saw no one in your kitchen or living room.

But your bedroom door was closed, boogie hadn’t meowed as loudly as possible and sprinted to you, demanding to be fed. He did say that they were good friends. So they both must be in your room.

Would it be wise to lock your door? The few precious seconds leaving it unlocked would save if you needed to run… no, no. Just lock it. Doorknob. Deadbolt. Chain.

‘Just stay calm’

You kicked off your shoes and tossed your bag to the floor, walking quietly across the carpeted living room to pause in front of your bedroom. A soft yellow glow shone beneath the door, your lamp must be on. You could hear your tv playing something, not quite sure what it was, but it had the all too familiar cadence of a horror flick.

The audacity of this man astounded you.

When you pushed open the door, he was laying in your bed, shoes off, legs crossed at the ankles, propped against the headboard, arms behind his head. He looked like he belonged there. As big a contrast as it was… your soft, pink, feminine room and him. All black, the mask. He just looked so comfortable.

Your cat, the little traitor, was curled up on his chest. It was kind of sweet. How could such an inherently terrifying scenario seem so normal?

Ever so casually he tilted his head toward you, his right hand raising from its relaxed position to lazily give you gloved finger waggle for a wave.

“Have fun?” The filtered voice drifted over to you.

“Yes.” You answered quietly, glued to the spot.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He laughed. “I would come pick you up, but it’s illegal to move a sleeping cat.” He gestured to boogie who had still not moved from her human pillow.

You couldn’t help but laugh, eyebrows raised in an expression of awe filled shock. This was too weird. Too normal. Too scarily alluring.

Yet you found yourself at the edge of the bed, not really knowing how you got there to begin with.

“Sat you some pajamas out.” He said dismissively, the mask fixed onto the tv screen. “Figured you’d wanna change.”

“Huh.” You snorted, seeing that he had.

You expected to see one of your lacy lingerie sets. But he’d chosen something much more modest that you would’ve ever imagined. Loose, thin, stretchy fabric pajama pants, the matching cropped tank top, and fuzzy socks.

“Um. Thanks?” You said awkwardly, picking them up and turning on your heels to change in the bathroom.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He chuckled.

“To the bathroom?” You scoffed, looking over your shoulder at him.

“You can change in here.” He wasn’t offering. He was telling you.

“No way.” You shook your head. “No I’m not-“

“C’mon little doe.” The filtered voice left little room for change in tone, but you could tell from his body language that it was a challenge.

“Ghost. No! I have Anakin I don’t-.”

He laughed. “I don’t care.”

“Well I do.”

“Mmm… not enough. You’re letting me be here. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t mention me to anyone at all actually.” He pointed out.

“Well that’s not-“

“Hush.” He snapped, making you stall. “I’ve seen that pretty little body of yours plenty of times. What’s one more?”

“But-“ your face was so red hot that you could feel the heat spreading down your neck.

“What? I’m not gonna get up.” He said plainly. “I’m comfy right here where I can watch you.”

“I don’t… this isn’t right.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He scoffed. “Nothing about this is ‘right’. But you’re letting it happen, yeah?” He said and got just a nod from you in response.

“That’s it.” He moved his arm to point two fingers at you, “get on with it sweetheart. I wanna see my girl.”

“I’m not your-“

“You were mine first.” He snapped.

“Well, that’s not very fair.” Your voice shaking. “I didn’t even know you were…. I didn’t know about you!”

“That might be true.” He growled, “but it’s your fault for being so ignorant.”

“I-I don’t…” you felt like you were on the verge of a tantrum. This man was outrageous, coming into your home uninvited, being a fucking perv, acting like he owns the place, and now he’s calling you ignorant?

“Do you realize how stupid it is for you to argue with me about the morality of all this?” He asked, going back to his former relaxed state.

“You. Are allowing me to be here. You had all day to call the cops if you wanted to. But you didn’t.” That smug little bastard laughed. “I’ve been here for over two hours. You knew I’d be here when you got back.”

“That’s not-“

“I’m not finished.” He held up a finger and silenced you. “You’re mine. You’ve been mine and you will continue to be mine.”

“I don’t care that you are pretending to be appalled by the situation you are in.” His voice was even and unyielding, he was so confident in his statements.

“You know why I don’t care?” He asked, tilting his head toward you condescension oozing from every pore.

“Why?” You squeaked.

“Because I know, without a doubt, that if I were to stick my hand down your pretty pink panties; you’d be wet right now.”

How did he know what color your underwear is? Better question: why is that the first thing you thought of when there were much more pressing matters at hand?

“That’s not true.” Your voice sounded hollow.

“It’s not?” He laughed. “Show me then.”

“What?” You whispered, eyes bugging out of your head.

“Do it. Prove to me that you’re not soaked.” He snickered.

“That’s not fair you can’t just-“

“You’re not running are you? You haven’t said no, you haven’t come over here and smacked me.” He interrupted.

You stood there with your jaw dropped, you needed a dustpan and broom to sweep up your shattered facade of denial. How could you dispute that?

“Fine!” You shouted. “Fine. I’ll just change in here.”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.” He growled. “You’re awfully bold for a spoiled brat.”

“I am not a-“

“When will you stop disagreeing with me?” He laughed. “You know it’s true. I’ve spoiled you so much that you’ve rotted to your core. You weren’t always a brat, but you are now. You like being spoiled don’t you? Being taken care of, being treated like a princess?”

“Your little boyfriend does the same thing doesn’t he?” He snickered. “Spoiled. Brat.”

“You’re just a little girl who needs a man to hold her hand.”

“You’re being mean.” You whispered, your voice breaking.

“The truth is hard to hear isn’t it little doe?” He said, his voice going back to its nonchalant, flat tone.

You couldn’t argue. He’d been right about everything and it’s difficult to argue with someone who throws fact after fact at you like he’s doing. So you took a deep breath and closed your bedroom door.

“Atta girl.” He nodded. “Show me.”

So you did, you turned around and began undressing, you could feel his eyes on you, soaking up the display you were crafting for him.

“Turn around.” His voice alittle quieter, the voice box crackling.

Slowly you complied, swallowing your fear and embarrassment. You kept your eyes closed, it made you feel the slightest bit better, I’m the way a kid would think ‘I can’t see you so you can’t see me’.

“Gorgeous.” He breathed out.

Behind your eyelids you swear you noticed a change in lighting, briefly, but enough to take note of. Your eyes snapped open and saw him holding up his phone.

He’d taken a picture of you.

“Ghost, no! Delete that right now!” You squealed, quickly getting dressed in your fresh pajamas.

“Cool it.” He waved you off. “Just gonna add it to my special folder just for you. See?” He turned his screen toward you and you inched forward.

He wasn’t lying. He scrolled through over one hundred images and videos, some of you in public, some nude, some of you sleeping. All in a folder titled ‘little doe’.

“These are for me.” He said simply. “They’re not going anywhere so don’t worry about that.”

“But these…” he turned the screen back to himself and tapped twice, scrolled and then tapped again before flipping it around.

The images in front of you made you nauseous.

You, spread legs and wet cunt, up close.

You with your hand being held up by Ghost, your fingers buried deeply between your folds.

A short video of your pussy being lovingly stroking by a leather glove. Another of one long digit pumping into you slowly.

A picture of your lips wrapped around his cock.

“S-so you did… you did touch me?” You recoiled.

“No.” He said flatly, before you could protest he laughed.

“You loved it.” He snickered. “Never let you cum. I wanted you to be needy for me.”

“Until… until I saw you.” You whispered.

“Mhm, that’s right.” He nodded. “Took care of your poor swollen pussy properly that time.” He cooed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“You’re sick.” You breathed out. “That’s disgusting… you-“

“Call the cops.” He said gesturing to your phone laying on the bed.

“What?”

“You heard me. Call ‘em.” He snorted. “If I’m so sick and disgusting and you’re soooo horrified by my actions; call the cops. I’ll wait right here.”

“Are you gonna send those to Anakin?” Your voice wobbled as you ignored his challenge. You both knew you wouldn’t call.

“Not if you’re good.”

“Are you gonna hurt him?” You asked quietly.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” He scoffed. “I want you all to myself, but I want you to choose me. I’m not gonna go all Dexter on your boyfriend.”

“You promise?” You sniffled. “Swear it?”

“Pinky swear.” He said confidently, holding out his hand with his little finger raised.

For some reason you took it. You believed him. He hadn’t gotten up and forced you to do anything, he stayed right there the whole time. He had yet to share those pictures with Anakin. A million other twisted reasons you’d started to accept that this was becoming a new normal. A thousand other things that pushed you to believe him.

He’d only bruised your self image with his cold, hard truths about you. That’s not a crime. That’s a reality check.

“Good choice little doe!” You could practically hear the beaming smile on his face behind the plastic mask.

“Now come up here.” He patted the spot next to him. “I don’t like seeing you upset, I’m sorry.”

He was apologizing? He was apologizing.

“You’re sorry?” You repeated in shock.

“Of course I’m sorry. You’re on the verge of tears and I’ve caused it.” He said, holding out his hand palm up for you to take.

“I’m not a monster.”

You hesitated before accepting his hand and climbing into bed beside him. You sat a safe distance from him at first but he lolled his head to the side in what you assumed was a dramatic eye roll and tugged you to his side in a one armed swoop.

The action had you frozen. This was it. He was gonna hurt you. You’d been naive and stupid and he was going to violate you, this time while you were conscious, you’d remember it this time.

“Relax.” He soothed, tucking you comfortably against his side, his bicep behind your head as a pillow and his gloved hand on your side in a way that was almost comforting. “I mean it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered, what the fuck is happening?

“No, it’s not okay. I could’ve been more gentle with my words.” His opposite hand rubbing his knuckles across your cheek lovingly.

You were quiet for a moment, debating on the course of action you should take. You were in fact very much allowing this to occur. Would it be so horrible to try and enjoy it? He was warm. He smelled nice and familiar, the cologne… you must have a subtle memory of it from all the times he’d been here while you slept. He was comfortable. He was surprisingly kind.

What’s the worst that could happen?

“Before you get comfy.” He spoke quietly, the voice box crackling from his low voice, “you didn’t take your pill.”

“Oh yeah you’re right.” You moved to get up, pink cheeked because once again he proved that you were in fact helpless without him.

“Don’t get up, I have it right here.” He chuckled, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you the pill packet and a thermos. “Tea.”

“Huh.” You stared at him. Gods this was so fucking weird. “Well… wow okay.” You huffed out a laugh and took your medicine with a sip of your tea.

“Tastes different.” You said, handing the packet back to him.

“Mhm. Yeah I poisoned it.” He said nonchalantly, making you almost choked on your second sip.

“You what?” You shrieked, waking up the cat who bolted from his lap.

“Aw look what you did,” he groaned gesturing to the empty space with a few stray cat hairs.

“You- are you serious?” You started to almost hyperventilate. “Should I make myself throw up?”

Why are you asked the man who poisoned you that? Like he’d tell you.

“No, that would be a waste of good tea.” He snorted. “I put cinnamon in it you idiot.”

“What?”

“Cinnamon.” He repeated. “It’s just cinnamon. It was a joke.”

“That’s not fucking funny!” You shouted, smacking his shoulder.

“Ive already told you once.” His hand shot out and grabbed your jaw firmly. “Do not. Raise. Your voice. At me.” He growled.

“I believe you meant to say ‘ha-ha, ghost that was funny. you got me!’” He snickered and released your jaw, soothing you with his hand now gently raking through your hair.

You were stunned. Absolutely shook by his quick turnaround, this should be terrifying. This man can be so gentle one moment and the next he’s speaking to you like he’s ordering you to lay down at the guillotine. It wasn’t terrifying in the right way. Not the type of fear you should be feeling at his unpredictable actions.

You weren’t scared of him at all. But yourself? Yes. Who is this girl? Why is she… why do you like this? It’s scary because you’re not scared. It’s horrifying because you want more. It’s terrifying because you’re morbidly curious about what he’d do if you acted out again.

You shook your head and picked your jaw off the floor, deciding the best course of action was to just tuck yourself back under his arm and watch whatever movie he had paused when you entered the room.

Might as well. You’ve already come this far.

Date

August 14th

When you woke up the next morning Ghost was gone. Your home was devoid of any trace of him, no note, no gift, no messages. Nothing.

He had hardly moved while you sat with him, the only consistent movement was the gentle twist and twirl of one long lock of your hair around his finger. It was repetitive and soothing, just like the calming rise and fall of his chest.

How could he be so calm? So off guard?

You could’ve turned on him at any moment. Ripped off his mask and saw who he was, grabbed your lamp and wacked him with it. Punched him in the nuts and ran.

But, to be fair, he could’ve done the same to you. Yet you stayed there, albeit anxious and on high alert for majority of the time spent with him. Despite the fact that you knew he carried a weapon, even though you were well aware of what he’d been doing to you all this time, even after he’d manhandled your face when you smarted off to him.

It must be a twisted form of mutual trust.

Or you might just be delusional.

Either way, it was wrong and you knew that. You intentionally got naked in front of another man, while he laid on the bed your boyfriend so sweetly makes love to you in. You fell asleep in the arms of this man. Not just *any* other man, the one who has been stalking you relentlessly for months.

You’ve cheated on Anakin. If he knew, it would crush him. It would break apart his big, soft, velveteen heart. Your betrayal would rip a hole right through the middle and slice up the fabric so badly it couldn’t be sewn back up without ending up smaller, weaker, and deformed.

What could you do? Was there anything to do? Telling him to his face… the thought of it soured your stomach so badly you thought you might form an ulcer.

Telling Ghost to fuck off and leave you alone wasn’t an option either. No matter what you did, the precautions you put in place; he would find you. Not only would he find you, but he wouldn’t allow Anakin the privilege of breathing anymore.

You couldn’t tell Luke. He’d lecture you until your ears bled while he dragged you to the nearest police station. Then Luke would be in danger, Anakin would know, and Ghost would still be your problem. And if Luke didn’t believe you, he’d ship you off to the long term care loony bin.

Your sister? Of course you couldn’t tell her either. She has her own family. Ghost already knows where she lives, he’s told you so.

He knows everything about you. Your family tree, your friends list, your schedule, your medical information, banking account, he has complete access to your home, your phone…

You are a canary in a cage and he is a cat pawing at you through the metal bars.

It’s only a matter of time before one of those claws nicks you. A feather or two might come loose, open up a weak spot on your frail body. The next swipe might draw blood, maybe it won’t. Or maybe he’ll be lucky enough to bat you to the bottom of the cage.

It’s hard enough to escape when there’s someone always watching. When there’s a lock on the door. But to attempt to flee with broken wings? You couldn’t hobble your way to safety anyway. Bird cages don’t have doors at the bottom, they’re halfway up. They don’t have horizontal bars. You can’t climb.

You are stuck.

It’s up to you if you want to be trapped there intact, or if you’d rather wallow at the bottom in pain.

——————————————————————————

Maybe you should just break up with Anakin.

Ghost said he wouldn’t hurt him, but how long will that last? How long until he gets tired of waiting? Should you ask Ghost again? Just to make sure? Make him sign a fucking contract?

Maybe it would be best if-

“Sweetheart?” Anakin whispered softly, waving his hand in front of your face. “What’s going on? I’ve been standing here for almost a minute.”

Anakin was here.

“What?” You whispered back, suddenly overwhelmingly aware of your surroundings.

The diner. You were at The Bluebird. You were working. A glance to the clock told you that you’d been here for over two hours, a quick scan of the tables and the counter proved that you hadn’t neglected any customers. Your notepad and pen were in your hand, there was money in the tip jar.

Anakin was here.

“Hey, c’mere.” His voice soft and concerned.

He gently took the pad and pen from your hands, put an arm around your shoulder and held your hand as he led you through the kitchen. Not an uncommon occurrence, Anakin was well known to everyone at the Bluebird due to his frequent visits to see you. He often walked with you out through the kitchen to sit on the curb with you while you took a break and he smoked a cigarette.

“Vigo, I’m taking her out back.” He said quietly, speaking to the dishwasher.

“I was about to call you man.” He spoke back in a hushed voice. “She’s been actin’ like that since she got here.”

“Yeah? Well next time don’t wait to call.” Anakin grumbled, scowling at your coworker.

The heat of the afternoon sun soothed over your skin, making you painfully aware of the cold sweat lacing the back of your neck. You blinked and it felt like it was the first time you’d closed your eyes in hours. Your mouth was dry, your teeth felt cold and your brain might’ve been better described as soup.

Anakin sat down on the curb and pulled you down with him. Placing you sideways between his legs, your arms immediately threw themselves around his neck and you curled up into him.

“Jesus baby.” He whispered, the wind getting knocked out of him at your aggressive tackle.

“An-” You started to sob before you even finished his name.

“W-what’s wrong?” You could feel his heart beat quicken beneath you, hear it pounding in his chest. He was feeling real, true panic.

“Hey, hey talk to me. Breathe.” He tried to soothe you by petting your hair, rocking you gently, kissing your forehead… anything, anything he could think of and nothing was working.

You were sobbing so loudly that Anakin was glad there wasn’t a back parking lot. If someone wanted to see where this horrible wailing was coming from they’d have to walk all the way around back, thankfully most people didn’t care enough to do such a thing.

Unfortunately though, your coworkers did care.

The back door creaked open and you could hardly hear the conversation over your own tears.

“Anakin!” Vigo whisper shouted. “What the fuck did you do to her?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t do this!” His voice angrily gritting through his teeth. “What happened today?”

“Nothin’ man! I dunno!” Vigo squeaked raising up his hands in surrender. “She just clocked in like that, no cryin’ though. She’s hardly said a word.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Anakin grunted, “I’m her emergency contact for a reason you idiot.”

“Hey? Don’t get mad at me!” Vigo scoffed. “I figured she was in a funk because of you, why would I call if I thought it was boyfriend troubles?”

“Jesus- did you even ask her?”

“What?”

“Oh my fuckin’-“ Anakin took a breath to regulate himself, one arm firmly holding you while the other was wildly gesturing as he spoke. “Did you ask her what was wrong?”

“No?”

“Are you stupid? God just fuck- go back inside before you end up crying on the ground too.” He snapped at him, huffing as the back door shut behind a quickly retreating Vigo.

“Sorry baby, I’m sorry,” He whispered, petting your head and squeezing you tightly. “I’m sorry, that probably didn’t help did it?”

“N-not really.” You hiccuped out a laugh.

“She speaks.” He gasped, “want me to yell at him some more? I’ll do it just say the word-“

“Anakin-“ you snorted, wiping your eyes and nose on his shirt. “Aw shit sorry.”

“You think I’m worried about alittle snot?” He scoffed, “Sweetheart, I’d lick it out of your nose like a cow if you’d let me. C’mere I’ll prove it.”

He stuck out his tongue and flicked it at you, chasing your face as you squirmed away from him. Despite to horrible ache in your lungs and the scratchy feeling in your throat, Anakin had a way of making everything better. Even if it was accomplished by making a fool of himself.

You laughed in spite of trying to catch your breath, fighting those awkward stalled inhales with a the goofy little giggle only he could force out of you. He relented finally when you gave up struggling, opting for a kiss on the tip of your nose rather than his tongue up your nostril.

“Wanna talk to me now?” He asked quietly, his playful attitude tucked away and replaced with seriousness.

“I don’t know Ani.” You sighed, feeling horribly conflicted. “I just want to go home.”

“Then I’ll take you home.” He said, not leaving room for argument. “But I’m not letting you get up until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Please? Please I don’t wanna talk about it.” Your eyes already filling back up with tears.

“It’s nothing really! It’s okay.” You pleaded with him, “I’m just… I’ve been thinking about a lot of stuff and it’s all overwhelming.”

“That’s not okay, don’t say it’s okay. You just wailed like a banshee.” He said sternly. “Talk, let me help.”

“I just feel like I’m losing my mind.” You scoffed, “Im going nuts. I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it without you thinking I’m insane.”

“Princess.” He said, his voice cracking with pain. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

“W-what if hypothetically…” you whispered. “It’s only hypothetical okay?”

“Okay. Imaginary scenario, let’s hear it.” He nodded solemnly.

“Hypothetically, if I was having… nightmares of someone being in my house. What would you say.” You whispered.

“Hypothetical nightmares?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Well… I’d suggest that maybe you… go to therapy? See if you can find the root of the problem.”

Therapy? To find the root of the problem? That would work if you didn’t already know where to find the problem: in your apartment at any given moment. Hell, he was probably there right now.

“Are you having these dreams because of that night at the bar?” He asked softly, tucking loose hairs behind your ear. “You know we didn’t see anyone put anything in your drink. No one left at the same time as you but your friends.”

“Now like I said before, just because we didn’t see it on camera… it doesn’t mean that no one slipped something in your drink. Stuff like that unfortunately happens all the time.” He sighed.

“I know.” You nodded, your eyes wet and sad, you knew you weren’t drugged there. You were drugged in the security of your own home. “I know, I think maybe I was just alittle more tipsy than I thought I don’t-“

“Hey, no… it’s okay.” He soothed you. “I believe you.”

“But there was no one who followed you home from the bar. I can say that with 100% certainty okay?” He said sternly.

“Ani but-“

“Look at me.” He said sharply, his voice turning soft again immediately after. “No one followed you home. I watched that video a hundred times over from every angle possible. No one else left the bar until about 17 minutes after you and your friends left.”

“Now don’t get upset baby okay? Listen I know, I know that it scared you shitless.” He said in a pained way, his face not quite matching his tone of voice like he was having a hard time trying to decide how to respond.

“Which is perfectly valid. It’s totally okay to be terrified if you saw something like that.” He soothed you, squeezing your upper arms. “I’m not saying it didn’t happen, I would never say that. If you say that you saw something, I believe you.”

“But, just because you saw it… doesn’t mean that it was truly there. Those kind of drugs can really fuck with your head baby.” He said gently.

“I know.” You sniffled, wiping your eyes and hiding against his chest again.

Gods… this man. He really was one of a kind, not just any man or person in general for that matter, would respond so well to such a strange temporary delusion. Your past boyfriends would’ve run for the hills. But not Anakin. It was clear he wasn’t deterred easily, he was your personal emotional support pet leech.

It was strange, feeling so comfortable like this with someone you hadn’t known for very long. After this conversation you thought maybe it would be okay to tell Anakin the truth about it all. He’d handle it perfectly well wouldn’t he?

But, you can’t risk putting him in harms way. You wouldn’t know if Anakin would be safe without first speaking to Ghost. If Anakin was your pet leech… Ghost was the the neighborhood street dog who’d decided your porch was the safest place to sleep. Who would be heartless enough to kick the poor thing out without a proper meal first?

That’s the problem with strays. Give them a scrap and they’ll love you for life.

Diary Entry: August 14th

Jesus baby I’m sorry. I thought things went well last night, I didn’t mean to make you so upset. I really didn’t. I guess you weren’t ready to see Ghost after all.

That’s my fault, I apologize. I should have known better.

It’s just… you seemed kind of excited for it you know? I thought we had a good time. Was the stripping down in front of me what freaked you out so much? Or seeing the pictures? I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have, that was too far, too fast.

I see now that I made a mistake and I plan to rectify it as soon as possible. I’m going to give you a choice, one that I really don’t want to give you. But I will for the sake of your sanity.

I’ve been selfish for too long.

I’ve not truly considered your feelings on the situation, I’ve taken your response at face value and never attempted to dig farther than that. It won’t happen again I can assure you of that. Ghost will still be Ghost, but perhaps just a bit more considerate of your opinions and boundaries.

You must understand though, it’s hard to deal with this for me too. I know it’s not fair to compare our separate sides of the situation like this, but it’s true. It’s painful to watch you get so upset over something I’ve done, knowing I can’t really resolve the issue. I don’t know how to help, or fix this.

I’ve dug myself into a hole. A Pit if you will.

How could you ever forgive me now? After all this time that I have been so stupidly self-centered… I imagine it would be unlikely that you could find it in your immensely kind soul to forgive and forget my transgressions.

Maybe not though? I do see you as a godly entity, my own personal deity. If I leave enough at the altar, bow at your feet for long enough, serve you unconditionally… maybe then you would see that I have discovered the error of my ways. You could see that I am truthful in my pursuit of repentance.

Date

August 15th

Anakin drove to the opposite side of the city to purchase your apology gifts from Ghost. He knew well enough that Luke never had a set schedule, Han was always at the gym and you were at book club. There was limited space in time and even smaller proximity of location for him to safely collect the supplies he needed.

If someone saw him buying a dozen red roses and told you about it without his knowledge… well there goes Ghost. It’d be real hard to explain that away.

So he went to the florist, chose the most beautiful bouquet he could find and tucked it away in a large brown bag with tissue paper over the top so he wouldn’t accidentally bruise the petals.

He strolled down the side walk to another small mom and pop store, just to browse through stationary and cards. Ghost needs to be alittle more classy in his opinion. Maybe if his notes are on nice paper and written in plain black ink… that could ease the discomfort of it. It’s probably not super welcoming to find a ripped scrap of paper with red ink scrawled on it now that he’s come to think of it.

It was amusing to him before, but after your display of emotion, he’s feeling guilty. Very, very guilty. There was no reason to go the extra mile on stupid little things like that.

So, pretty grey paper and matching envelopes join the bouquet.

Now he just has to find something else. It can’t be chocolate or something generic. It has to be something meaningful. Something thoughtful to solidify the sentiment behind his offer for you. Something that will push you to make the right decision.

——————————————————————————

Anakin walked into your apartment, and went straight to your bedroom, it was time for Ghost to set up his apology present.

The big red bouquet was carefully placed in the center of your bed along with the pretty stationary propped against it. Your name carefully and neatly written in **black ink** on the envelope.

Your other gift, had turned into two. A small black box accompanying a short and squat black gift bag with grey tissue paper.

He was proud of his staged display, so proud that he couldn’t wait for you to see it. He was itching for you to get home, he needed to know what you’d choose. He was dying to see your pretty face light up with joy at his thoughtfulness.

So against his better judgement, he snapped a picture of himself standing at your bedside. The photo taken from a high angle to capture just the corner of your red rose bouquet, with himself taking up majority of the frame. His mask tilted to the side and his free hand held up a gloved peace sign.

He’d wait to send it.

He wanted to see your face when the message came through.

Anakin was prepared to be patient, but he didn’t have to be patient for long. He got the notification that there was movement out front of the building, he pulled up the live feed from the stairwell camera on his laptop and excitedly jolted up out of his seat before sitting back down quickly to scoot his seat back up to the table.

He rubbed his hands together and practically combusted from the inside when he confirmed it was you. His fingers moved quickly to send the text message and just as he thought you would, you paused and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a bit of panic and maybe a bit of excitement. But mostly, Anakin was saddened to see fear. You were scared, but so brave as he watched you sprint up the steps. He shook his head and let out a deep breath, pulling up the split screen of all the cameras in your home.

You burst through the front door and slammed it shut, tossing your bag aside. Anakin turned up the volume just a bit and immediately realized that was a mistake because you yelled directly underneath the kitchen camera. The audio crackled as you shouted out for Ghost, Anakin realized then that you must think he’s still inside your home.

‘Just missed me.’ He texted quickly, watching you check your phone quickly and let out a sigh of relief as you muttered under your breath.

He thought you might text back, but why would you when you knew he was watching at that very moment?

“Hey!” You said, spinning in place, your eyes darting around to scan the room. “Where did you go? I didn’t see you!”

You rushed over to the living room window and down to the alley below, then up the fire escape, your gaze traveling over to the next building’s roof.

‘You won’t see me unless I want you to.’ He texted back.

“Jesus.” You muttered, rubbing your wrist anxiously. “I guess you want me to go to my room huh?”

‘Yes please.’

“Fine.” You sighed, kicking off your shoes as you walked over to the bedroom door, flinging it open quickly just incase he was still hiding out.

Your eyes drew to the center of your bed, the roses, the bag and box, the envelope. If the situation weren’t so strange you might consider this a romantic gesture. But it’s not, it’s not romantic and you shouldn’t want to open the gifts and sniff the pretty, sweet smelling flowers. You should want to call the police and have them haul the shit off for evidence.

“What’s all this for?” You asked alittle quieter than before, holding up your phone to read the text as it came through almost instantly as you knew that it would.

‘Letter.’

“Letter? That’s all?” You scoffed, “you did all this for a letter?”

‘It’s important.’ The response came quickly, followed by a second in rapid succession. ‘Gifts first.’

“Okay… alright. Gifts first.” You sighed, pulling your hand back from where it was inches away from the grey envelope.

The small box seemed like a good first thing to open, easy enough to snap shut if you didn’t like what you saw inside. Tentatively shifting the lid back and forth you wiggled it free and lifted the small square of padding to reveal a very nice, very ornate, obviously hand crafted hair-pin with a silver rod for the pin.

You gingerly lifted it from the box and held it in your hand to examine it, walking over to the window to open the curtains and see it more clearly. Smooth, black ceramic, gorgeously curved and curled silver fittings. But the most intriguing, the most breathtaking part of it, was the delicate lines and the daintily carved cameo in the center of the ceramic oval.

A woman standing under a willow, with a fawn at her feet.

You wanted to hate it, but how could you hate something so beautiful? How could you pretend to be unappreciative of something that clearly took time and effort to find, it wasn’t just vintage, it was antique. The fact that he’d searched for and seized the jewelry was a feat in itself.

You gingerly laid it back in its box, almost too afraid to hold it. Afraid of its fragility, afraid of what it stood for, how it made you feel. The tiny claws of emotion ripping at your throat stole your voice, you could only hope that Ghost couldn’t see your face from where you were standing or he would clearly see what he’d stirred up inside you.

You picked up the small bag and lifted the tissue paper gently, hoping it wasn’t another emotionally draining surprise.

It wasn’t draining, but it sure as hell was a surprise.

“What’s this?” You snorted, turning the bag over and dumping out a few cat toys.

You waited, checking your phone periodically but got no response. You knew he was still watching, so why wasn’t he answering? Sighing you shook your head and opted to take a look at the toys.

A felt kicker toy shaped as a bloody knife. A couple of fluffy spiders, eyeballs with bells inside, and a little vampire bat that was almost too cute to be a cat toy.

“Thanks.” You said quietly.

It was infuriating how well he knew you, he knew how to crawl into your brain and make you want more. How could you not when he did things like this? Thoughtful, well planned gifts, including your pet too. He knew that your cat was your baby and he’d taken the time to befriend her, cared about her enough to buy her things.

It made it all the more irritating that his choice of toys was just alittle funny. But you’d die before you admit that seeing the knife made you crack a grin.

Finally you decided it was time to open the envelope, as soon as you did, you understood why he’d asked you to open the gifts first.

LETTER

Little Doe,

I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. The hurt I saw, the words heard… I felt it in my soul when I watched you crumble.

My purpose is to love you, my job is to keep you safe, my goal is to make you happy. I’m only doing one of those things, it’s selfish of me to love you the way that I do. I know that.

What I’ve done is wrong, I’m aware. I can’t justify or explain it to you. Just know that the long and short of it is love, it’s not a normal love, but it’s mine and I’m giving it all to you.

There’s no way you’d understand the lengths I’d go to, the things I would do for you. You’d never comprehend how deeply I adore you. That’s okay. It’s hard for me to understand myself too.

The hairpin, it’s the goddess of the hunt and her fawn. I thought considering it all, it would be more than suitable for our situation.

You’re a saint, a deity, someone worth the labors of worship.

Goddesses aren’t meant to be touched, held, loved corporally. They’re meant to be imagined, a comforting presence that you feel all around you, bowed to in hopes of receiving grace. I’ve tried to go beyond the altar to reach you and for that I’m truly sorry.

Please, please take my offerings.

I love you, I need you, but I don’t deserve you. No one deserves attention from the heavens, especially not me. But if you are listening, if you’re willing, I’ll try my best to be the perfect follower.

So I’ll ask for a boon from my goddess:

Grant me passage on the road to repentance, or take my hand to walk through the valley.

You sat on your bed in silence for a long while, your cat coming to join you and accept the gifts left for her excitedly. It brought you a moment of peace to watch her waller around and smack the eyeballs across the floor.

So the overwhelming weight of the thin grey sheet of paper in your hand felt even heavier when she scampered off with her brand new bag toy hanging from her mouth like a fresh kill. She’d left you alone and undistracted again. Just you, your thoughts, and the suffocating silence surrounding you, the creeping tingle on your neck that told you he was still watching the cameras.

He was waiting.

So you sighed and crawled off the bed with your bouquet in tow, cutting the stems into the kitchen trash can and filling a glass vase with water to display them on the counter.

The grey paper followed you from room to room, seat to seat, from one hand to the other as you read it over and over. You could recite it by memory, it was burned into your retinas, you could still feel the indents of his pen on the paper long after you’d sat it aside, the smell of the paper dye singed your nostrils and didn’t leave even after your shower.

You thought you could clean yourself, wash your hands of the problem both literally and metaphorically.

No amount of scrubbing could rinse your brain well enough to wash away the thousands of jumbled words swirling around. You’d been trying to formulate one, just one, coherent sentence for a response. But each time you made progress, you changed your mind on the decision, you scrapped the idea, sent it to the shredder and recycled it into a slightly different, just as illegible mess.

He’s giving you an out. Take it.

Who cares if he still watches you? He won’t interfere. He won’t show up for visits, he won’t leave you gifts or notes.

He’d left you with an offering. A little piece of himself in exchange for your so called ‘divine intervention’. He was asking for the hand of god to stir the pot and serve it too. At least, that’s how he saw it.

For you it was just an awkward toss up of a bunch of jumbled pros and cons.

On one hand he was offering you freedom. Opening the bird cage and giving you the option to escape but clipping your wings, ensuring you can’t go too far.

He’d still watch, just not make an appearance… keep himself hidden like before.

This would also solidify Anakin’s safety, which you valued highly. You’d be free to have your beautiful blossoming relationship, without the worry and stress from the Ghost that haunts your apartment.

On the other hand he gave you the choice to join him in some capacity. To walk through the valley with him; would he walk two steps behind? Two in front? Or side-by-side?

It’d give you the opportunity to explore this stranger you’ve discovered living inside your mind and body. That weird itch that only Ghost can scratch, the thought of him alone just doesn’t do it for you anymore.

You’d have the chance to see who is under that mask and that was more intriguing than anything. You felt like the more you spoke to him, the more you watched him in person… maybe you’d be able to narrow it down to a few people. That might be worth the risks that come with allowing him to continue visiting.

So, you swallowed your fear and closed your eyes. A few silent moments later you spoke aloud, assuming Ghost was still listening.

“I’ll walk with you.” You said slowly, tasting the words as they left your lips. “On two conditions.”

‘What are they, deer?’ His response came instantaneously.

“You leave my friends and family alone. You swear on your life they’re safe and that includes Anakin. I mean it, I’m not fucking around about it okay?” You said confidently. “I already feel guilty enough, don’t make it worse for me.”

‘Guilty?’

“Yes guilty! I have a boyfriend, who I really, really like.” You said, feeling exhausted from the complexity of your choice. “This isn’t fair to him!”

“But it’s… it’s not fair to me either!” You said frustratedly as you blew out a long breath of air through pursed lips. “I deserve to know who you are! You’ve been watching me for god knows how long and I haven’t even heard your real voice.”

“And… and it’s not fair for you either.” You admitted quietly.

‘Why?’

“You’ve been… mostly harmless. Kind.” You confessed, considering saying more, much more. “You’ve been helpful. Despite everything you’ve done, you obviously care about me. I can’t ignore that especially now.”

‘Mostly harmless??’

‘Why ‘especially’ now?’

“You’re joking right?” You snorted in disbelief, shaking your head and trying to stifle a laugh of indignation. “You… well I mean it feels wrong to call it what it is. But- you.. you know what you did!” You crossed your arms frustratedly.

‘Ah… the extracurriculars.’

“Sure if that’s what you want to call it.” An expression of, strangely enough, amusement, crossed over your features. “What it is… well you know what it is.” You sighed.

“But for some reason… I don’t want to call it that.” You said quietly.

‘Hm. I’ll remember that.’

“I’m sure you will.” You huffed in spite of yourself, because if you were honest you’d be telling him you liked it. Your body liked it, your brain liked it, asleep or not, he’d affected you in ways you were unsure you could get with anyone else. Including your sweet and precious boyfriend, he’s too tender and loving.

“Second condition: you promise me that you’ll eventually tell me who you are.” You said firmly. “I deserve to know.”

‘I accept.’

“Okay then.” You sighed with relief and a bit of resignation. “You still have to warn me if you’re gonna be coming to visit though!”

‘Yes ma’am.’

“Ew. Add that to the list. Never call me ma’am again.” You snorted and it rolled into a full laugh when you finally looked up and caught your own gaze in your bedroom mirror. You were sitting in your room alone, speaking aloud, having a fully fleshed, seemingly one-sided conversation.

If anyone were to walk in on this scene playing out, they’d think you’ve lost your mind.

Maybe you already have.

Part Ten

The pendant that inspired the hairpin! I forgot to add it in sorryyyyyy

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Summary: A disastrous PTA meeting and an unfortunate grocery store encounter have you and Eddie questioning whether or not you deserve each other.

Warnings: a bit of dirty talk (18+ just in case), feelings of unworthiness, Carol Perkins and Billy Hargrove make appearances, mentions of bullying, small allusion to drug use and poverty, arrest, tiny allusion to Eddie's breeding kink

WC: 7.1k

Chapter 13/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special thanks to @girlwiththerubyslippers & @corroded-hellfire for helping with this chapter!

Your Thursday mornings at Hawkins Preschool usually involve a light tap on the door and a blink-and-you-missed-it wave from Eddie; maybe a wink if no one’s looking. Today, he’s stopped by the classroom with a steaming styrofoam cup in hand.

“I thought you only brought me coffee on Mondays,” you laugh appreciatively. You take the still-hot beverage from him, folding back the plastic tab and blowing on it lightly before taking a sip. It’s made just as you like it and warms you from the inside out.

Eddie smiles, crossing his arms over his chest an leaning in closer so his leather-clad shoulder grazes sweater-covered one. “Ah, but the PTA meeting is after school today.” As if you could forget forty minutes of unpaid work that could be spent reading, resting, snuggling up to your thoughtful metalhead boyfriend… “Figured you could use an extra boost of caffeine to help you power through.” He lowers his voice to add, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it. But Wayne’ll be there.” He squeezes your hand quickly just as Abby Carver approaches you.

You pull away so fast that you bang your elbow against the side of the desk, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a yelp. “What can I do for ya, Abby?” you ask, smiling through the throbbing pain.

“Joshua said that he’s taller than me!” she whines, messily swiping at her ruddy tear-stained cheeks. Her dad only dropped her off five minutes ago, and she’s already conjured up a crisis. Unsurprising, but exasperating nonetheless.

You peer over at Joshua Harrington, who is currently constructing a racetrack, unbothered by Abby’s distressed state. Your gaze flits back over to the little girl in front of you. “Honey, he is taller than you,” you gently explain, watching as her bright blue eyes begin to well up again.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t havta say it!” she protests, stamping her sneaker on the speckled tile floor. It’s one that lights up, little red and blue and green twinkles dashing along the side.

You nod, sucking in your lips in a feeble attempt to keep a straight face. “Well, you can just play somewhere else. And we’re gonna get started with circle time in a few minutes.” Time to sing the Good Morning song–again. If the kids didn’t beg for it every day, you would’ve scrapped it months ago, but it keeps them entertained.

Once she scampers off, already zeroing in on a group of girls dressing up some time-battered Barbie dolls, you turn your attention back to Eddie.

“We’re still on for Saturday?” you ask, a subtle reminder of your upcoming date at Enzo’s. It’s a fancier restaurant than either of you are used to, but Eddie had insisted on it.

He nods quickly, scratching at the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous, though you’re not quite sure what’s on his mind. “Y-Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“I can’t wait.”

At 3:15, you and Will trudge into the classroom that’s serving as the meeting venue. It only takes a moment for you to remember that it’s Ms. Marion’s room, and your eyes scan the walls for Harris’s artwork. You find it easily; it’s the best in the class. It’s a drawing based on the saying, ‘March is in like a lion and out like a lamb,’ and each kid drew a picture of the two animals. Harris has meticulously added details to his. He’s drawn a zig-zag line under the lion’s pink nose to represent his aggression and given the lamb a puffy coat of wool, while the other kids just drew smiling lions and a circle to represent their lambs’ bodies. He’s also included a speech bubble hovering above each of their heads; the lion’s says “ROR!!!” and the lamb bleats “BAAA.”

Will’s gaze follows yours, and his lips turn up into a smile when he sees what you’re staring at. “He’s a talented kid,” he remarks. “We gotta have him sign something now so we can say ‘we knew him when.’”

You nod your head in agreement and return his grin. You’ll have to tell Eddie to have Harris swing by your classroom after school tomorrow so Harris can autograph some drawings.

Wayne comes in a few minutes later, taking a seat behind you and Will.

“How’s your day going, Wayne?” You turn around in your chair and greet him. Seeing the older Munson always lifts your spirits. He’s wearing a flannel, checks of olive green and white, over a white t-shirt that proudly proclaims: My Favorite Person Calls Me Grampa.

Wayne gives a little shrug; for him, it’s the equivalent of a beaming smile. “Can’t complain. Didn’t get too much pushback from Harris when I dropped him at the baby-sitter’s.” He explains that Claudia Henderson still has a bunch of the games her son had played with, and Harris loves going through the toy bin and finding something new. “Well, new to him. That stuff’s gotta be nearly twenty years old by now.” He scratches the white-gray whiskers on his cheek and chuckles. “Jeez, ‘m old. I remember buyin’ those kinda games for Eddie when he was a kid.”

More parents and teachers file in and, eventually, the PTA president stands at the front of the classroom and calls the meeting to order. The idle conversation gradually ceases, and Linda Wright presses her lips into a thin smile and smooths nonexistent creases in her khaki slacks.

“Welcome, everyone,” she begins, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you all for being here. We have quite a few items to cover today, so let’s get to it!” She’s far too chipper for your liking, and you wince involuntarily as she excitedly announces the upcoming parent-child talent show. It’s an annual school-hosted fundraiser, and apparently a popular one; there’s a soft roar of discussion before Linda wrinkles her nose in irritation and shushes the group.

“Oh, Ed’s gonna love that,” Wayne leans in and whispers to you. “He’ll probably be more excited than Harris.” He sits up straight when Linda clears her throat and glares in his direction.

The president launches into a tirade about kindergarten readiness strategies, handing out little pamphlets to the parents and guardians. The cover displays an overly-enthusiastic teacher surrounded by a small group of students who are closely attending to a fake lesson.

You hear Wayne grumble under his breath: “What is there to be ready for? It’s kindergarten, Jesus Christ.” and you have to stifle a laugh.

Linda luckily doesn’t hear his lament. “I’m opening up the floor to any questions or concerns.” Now is the time that people typically start gathering their belongings and resume unfinished conversations. It’s precisely what you plan to do until you hear an all-too familiar snide voice from across the room.

“Yes, I have a question.” Carol Perkins stands up. She places her hands on her hips and pulls her lips into a smirk. “What is the school’s policy on parent-teacher relationships? Romantic and…otherwise?” Her gaze sweeps over to you, hovering there for a bit, and you realize with a sense of dread that she’s enjoying this. “Because, to me,” she splays her manicured fingers over the center of her chest, “it just seems completely unprofessional.”

The PTA members start whispering amongst themselves, eyebrows raised in excitement as they try to determine the culprit amongst themselves.

You want to crawl into a hole and die. You can feel Wayne’s eyes on the back of your head, as though he’s silently willing you to remain composed. The only other person who knows of your relationship with Eddie is Will, and you can tell that he’s doing everything in his power not to wrap his arms around you in a hug.

At the very least, the principal is not tolerating the dissolution of the meeting into a gossip session. “Ms. Perkins, we can discuss this at a later time. Privately.” Sue Sinclair’s expression is stoic, unreadable, and you’re not sure whether she’s angry at you or Carol. How would she know it’s me? But logic has no reason with emotion taking center stage, and you’re all too grateful when Chrissy Carver shifts the conversation to organize a ticket sale committee. For the most part, it seems like Carol’s little outburst has been swept under the rug. The meeting concludes as some parents leave while others stick around to schedule playdates, but you remain seated.

A hand on your shoulder startles you from your humiliated stupor, and you look up to see Will looking at you. Sympathy radiates from his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he softly reassures you. “I don’t think anyone knows, and even if they do, who cares? Harris isn’t in your class anymore.”

“I-I know.” But Frankie is, which means I’ll have to face Carol every day, I’ll have to deal with her smarmy expressions and backhanded comments. The blood drains in your face when you think about her spreading rumors to the other parents, their amused stares as they drop their children off to be in your care.

Wayne speaks up as he stands, leaning his gnarled knuckles on the seat of the folding chair for support. “Darlin’, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about. It’s no one’s business who you’re with.” He brushes some dust off of his dungarees and walks with a slight limp towards the door, the remnants of an old injury that flares up in the colder weather. “I gotta go get Harris, but you keep your chin up.” He gives Will a quick head bob that the younger man returns, having developed somewhat of a camaraderie with the elder Munson during the various post-graduation Hellfire sessions held at the trailer.

Carol says nothing as she leaves the room, deep in conversation with Steve Harrington and his wife. If they don’t know about you and Eddie yet, you’re confident that Carol will ensure they do soon. Dread pools in your stomach at the thought of small-town gossip flying, your professionalism being called into question, the possibility of you losing your job. And everyone will know why.

Eddie’s hands tremor with excitement; his whole body buzzes with energy as he grabs the receiver off of the glass countertop. He dials your number–his favorite seven digit combination in the world–and beams the entire time. As soon as he hears your, “hello?”, he’s practically shouting into the phone. Volume control has never been his forte, especially after years of blowing out his eardrums with loud music.

“Babe, guess what?” He drums his left hand fingertips on the counter, a rhythmic pum-pum-pum to keep his breath steady.

“What’s up?”

He notes hesitance in your tone, but chalks it up to exhaustion from your extended workday. “I applied for that manager position? The one I told you about on our first date?” He hears your soft “mhm,” before proceeding. “And I got it! Ash just told me now!” He smiles, pressing the receiver to his ear with his shoulder as he organizes paperwork into a pile. “Eddie Munson, getting the girl and the job? Never in Hawkins’ wildest dreams!”

There’s a pause on your end of the line before you reply. “I’m so proud of you, Eds. No one deserves this more than you do.”

Though there’s still an air of something Eddie can’t quite identify, it’s woven with genuine pride for his accomplishment. His fingertips keep busy as they graze up and down the phone cord. “Now we, uh, really have something to celebrate at Enzo’s.”

Another pause; this one is so long that he wonders if the line disconnected. “Um, about that…” you finally speak up, and Eddie hopes you don’t hear the gigantic sigh of relief that escapes his lips, “maybe we could just do something at my place? Grab takeout, watch a movie or something?”

His relief evaporates almost as quickly as it came, and he puts his weight on his forearms and lowers his voice. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just been a long week.”

It sounds too automatic, too rehearsed to be true. Eddie doesn’t believe you, but he needs to get to Wayne’s and pick up Harris before his uncle leaves for work. “I really wanted to take you out, show you off, y’know?” He clears his throat, scrambling for words. “We can talk more about it later. Try to get some rest, Sweetheart.”

“Mmkay,” you mumble, and Eddie hopes he’s not just imagining the smile in your voice. “I’ll try. Say hi to Harris and Wayne for me.”

He ends the phone call promising that he will, hanging up hesitantly. What happened between this morning and this evening that had you backing out of the date and retreating into your home?

I shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, he grimaces, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road towards Forest Hills. That was so stupid; she was at work, and the kids were right there. Way to go, Munson.

Eddie continues to brood about his faux pas all the way until he gets to Wayne’s, slapping a smile on his face as he relays the news about his promotion. The smile becomes less forced the more he talks. He’s suddenly consumed with thoughts of buying a house with a yard, a pool–well, maybe not a pool; he’s not making that much money–but definitely space for Harris to run around and play.

And in this fantasy world he’s created, you’re standing on the front porch, sipping coffee out of a World’s Best Mom mug–possibly the only mug Wayne doesn’t already have nailed to the trailer wall–made just the way you like it. You’re laughing as you watch Harris sprint back and forth across the grass. Eddie imagines it neatly cut, but the reality is that it would probably be more than a bit overgrown.

He’d sneak up behind you, snaking arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto the back of your neck–

“That’s amazing, Ed!” Wayne claps a hand on his nephew’s back, drawing him out of his daydream and thrusting him back into reality. He pulls him into a quick hug, not overabundant in affection, but his delight seeps through. “You talk to your girl yet?”

“First person I called.” My girl. The first person I called was my girl. She’s my girl and I’m her man–

“Good.” Wayne responds pensively, smoothing down his unruly mustache whiskers and reaching for his pack of Camels. He shoves them into his side pocket, right on top of the lighter. “She could use some good news after that shitshow of a PTA meeting.”

Eddie’s brows crinkle, pinched together in non-understanding. “What are you talking about?” he asks before calling out his son’s name to bring him from the bedroom. He can hear the bed springs creaking, which can only mean that Harris is jumping on the old mattress. Apparently, breaking his wrist didn’t result in a lesson learned.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He slams his palm onto the countertop as confusion melts into frustration. Weren’t you past this? Past keeping secrets and masking emotions?

Wayne sighs, weighing his options. Ultimately, his allegiance is to his nephew, so he divulges what happened that afternoon, heart sinking as Eddie’s face falls with each word. “She seemed real shook up,” he concludes the story, digging out the pack of cigarettes. Delivering news that devastates his nephew has him urgently craving a smoke. “I wanted to stay and talk to her, but Claudia had somewhere to be at five.”

Eddie chews on his lower lip, pulling off a bit of dry skin with his front teeth. “Yeah, no, ‘s fine.” He calls Harris out of the bedroom again, patience sufficiently thinned. Of course Carol Perkins would shoot off her big mouth about your personal life. It’s not like she had anything better to do. None of that is surprising.

What worries Eddie is why you didn’t tell him about it. Were you embarrassed that people knew you were together? Is that why you didn’t want to be seen at Enzo’s with him? Would you agree to a restaurant far outside the bounds of Hawkins, or was this shame rooted deeper than small-town gossip?

Wayne can sense his anxiety, and he scrambles to dam up Eddie’s flooding thoughts as he fumbles to put the cigarette between his lips. “It’s pretty damn obvious that you two care for each other. Dare I say, you lo—”

“Wayne!”

“Fine, fine,” Wayne chuckles and grabs his lunch pack. The ceasing of the bed springs indicates that Harris has stopped jumping, and Eddie can hear toy cars clattering into a bag. “But you should just talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.” He lowers his voice as Harris finally emerges. “I know it ain’t been easy to hear rumors your whole life, but this is new to her. Cut her a little slack.”

Eddie looks around the trailer at what was his first real home. He’d bounced from place to place with his parents, dodging angry landlords and their threats of eviction. From a young age, he’d learned to dread the end of the month, knowing that conflict was inevitable. Screaming voices, accusations of hiding money, when anyone with working eyes could see that they’d all but stuffed it in a pipe and smoked it. There was no love; only survival. Wayne was never the cookies and milk, family dinner, Leave it to Beaver type, but he offered Eddie something he’d never had before: safety.

Now, Eddie scoops Harris into his arms and follows Wayne out of the trailer as he locks up. There’s not too much of great value; possibly just the TV, but even that’s on the fritz. And unless a thief had a hankering for hokey mugs and baseball caps, they’d probably leave without taking a thing. “Thanks, Old Man.”

“‘S what I’m here for,” Wayne says, pressing a kiss to Harris’s mop of curls. He pauses, and then does something he hasn’t done in years: he kisses the top of Eddie’s head, too. “Not just a pretty face, y’know.”

On Saturday evening, Eddie finds himself at Bradley’s Big Buy, scouring the aisles until he locates the small refrigerator holding various flower bouquets. The chill hits him in the chest as he opens the door, crouching down to get a better look at the offerings through their tissue-paper wraps. He’s determined to take you to Enzo’s, and he’d hoping this small gesture will show you that he can be the man you deserve.

He finds a bouquet of pink peonies and grabs them from the display case, clutching them proudly. They’re delicate and beautiful, just like you. He raises them up, the petals tickling his nose when he inhales the fresh scent, when he overhears Billy Hargrove speaking in a hushed tone:

“Thought you were stopping by after that parent meeting thing.”

“My idiot husband came home early,” a woman–Carol Perkins, Eddie realizes–punctuates her lament with an irritated sigh. “But speaking of that meeting–I’ve been meaning to tell you: guess who’s also hooking up?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer before divulging the gossip, “Frankie’s teacher and Eddie Munson.”

“The teacher and the Freak? No way.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and chuckles maliciously. “Didn’t know she was down for that kind of stuff.”

“Keep it in your pants,” Carol huffs, as though she’s not stepping out on her own husband. “But I’m serious! He brings her coffee and leaves her stupid love notes.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes together as he cringes. Billy’s second round of mean laughter transports him back to the time the jock grabbed his brand-new D20 off of the lunch table and used his basketball skills to chuck it into a far-off trash can. The ruby red die sunk into the mountain of discarded lumps resembling mashed potatoes and half-eaten meatloaf, forcing Eddie to trek across the cafeteria and fish it out of the pile of old food. “Love notes? What, is he in high school or something?”

Carol snickers. “Guess he’s making up for all the times he didn’t bother, since he knew no girl in this town would go for him.”

“Looks like he had to go for an import,” Billy jokes, drawing a hideous cackle from his friend. Eddie can practically hear the man’s ego inflating at the way Carol fawns over him.

“And a desperate one at that,” she snorts. “I mean, can you imagine lowering your standards enough to be with Eddie Munson?”

“Let’s hope she comes to her senses eventually,” he agrees. “So, is your husband home now…?”

All Eddie can think is to run, to get the hell out of there before anyone spots him and notices the pink tinging his cheeks and the tears welling in his eyes. He’s so focused on leaving and getting past the two bullies that he forgets about the flowers in his hand, until an infuriated voice calls after him.

“Hey! Get back here!” The manager rolls his eyes when he recognizes the culprit. “Eddie Munson. Of course. I should’ve known that shoplifting isn't too juvenile a crime for you.”

Eddie can hear Billy and Carol poorly stifling their amusement at his misfortune. He struggles to find the proper words to explain himself as his entire body is engulfed in the flames of embarrassment, burning him from the inside out. “No…I didn’t mean…it was an accident…”

The manager shakes his head with a biting laugh. He’s a graying man who should have been retired fifteen years ago when Eddie was actually shoplifting. The liver-spotted creases around his eyes are particularly visible when he sneers, “Heard that one before. Prob’ly from you.”

Anger burns in Eddie’s throat, but he swallows it. “Look, let me just pay for these, and I’ll get outta here.” He starts to fumble for his wallet, but the old man shakes his head.

“Nice try. I let you off easy too many times when you were a kid, and look where it got ya.” His cold hand clasps Eddie’s bicep as tightly as his feebleness allows. “I’m calling the sheriff. He can decide what to do with you.”

“Shit-shit-shit,” Eddie mumbles, yanking himself from the man’s grip. “Y’don’t have to hold me; I’m not gonna run away.”

To his surprise, the manager lets him go, though it’s likely due to his advanced age rather than trusting Eddie to do the right thing.

He’s taken to the back room, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor and biting his thumbnail. A quick glance at his watch tells him that he’s supposed to pick you up in 15 minutes. He breathes out a long sigh, scanning the bulletin board hastily fastened to the wall with a lone flyer advertising medical benefit sign-up. Upon closer inspection, he reads that it’s for the 1990 fiscal year, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time the stodgy old Bradley ever offered insurance to his overworked, underpaid employees.

He says a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that Hopper is the one who answers the call. The chief will give him the benefit of the doubt and probably tear the old fart a new one for wasting his time.

Purse, keys, lipstick, condoms.

You have everything you need for your date, save for one minor detail–Eddie.

You’d expected him to stop by your classroom yesterday to say good morning like he normally does, but he didn’t show. He would’ve called you if Harris was staying home sick; a brief peek out your window during recess confirmed that the littlest Munson was present. He ran around the playground with one of his friends from the birthday party, blissfully unaware of the turmoil churning within you.

Eddie definitely heard what happened at the meeting, you realize miserably, and he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash he’ll get from dating his kid’s former teacher. From anxiety blooms visions of the convoluted game of telephone perpetuated by Carol, the story getting more absurd with each retelling.

At 7:30, Eddie still hasn’t shown. He’s not exactly Mr. Punctuality, but thirty minutes is pushing it, even for him. His tardiness does nothing to ameliorate your fears. This was clearly too much for him—you were too much for him.

You’re about to wipe the makeup off of your face and change into your coziest pair of pajamas when the phone rings, startling you slightly.

“H-Hello?”

“This is a collect call from the Hawkins County Jail. Do you accept the charges?” an automated voice bleats, too chipper for the circumstances it’s reporting.

You’re caught off-guard by the question and the tone, and you choke out a strangled, “yes” and the line rings twice.

“Sweetheart? You there?” Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Relief floods your body until you remember where he’s calling from.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” you say, and it’s only when your fingers start to cramp that you recognize how tightly you’re gripping the receiver. “Why are you in–”

He sighs into the phone, and static briefly clouds his voice. “Long story,” he mumbles. “Can you just come and get me? There’s, uh, no bail or anything.”

“I’ll be right there.” You waste no time in grabbing your keys off of their hook, nearly forgetting to shove your feet into shoes in your scramble out the door. You’re ashamed to admit that for a millisecond, you consider the possibility that he’s been busted for dealing, but you shake it off lest it further infiltrate your psyche.

You pull up to the jail exactly twenty-eight minutes later, the fastest you can get there without flying down side streets; the irony of being pulled over for speeding on your way to the police station was not lost on you. Flinging the car into park and killing the engine, you fast-walk through the entrance and hope your nervousness is hidden by the air of confidence you’re faking.

“I’m here to pick up Eddie—er, Edward Munson?” His legal name is clunky on your tongue, like it doesn’t quite belong to him.

The officer behind the desk wears a name badge that reads “P. Callahan.” He puts down his copy of the Hawkins Post and presses his lips into a thin line as he reaches for the walkie attached to his shirt pocket.

“Hop, is Munson ready to be released?” Released. Like a wild animal who needs to be kept away from the general public for their own safety.

The officer on the other end—Chief Hopper, you presume—confirms that Eddie is good to go, and a door opens shortly after that. Eddie trudges out, shame and frustration marring his beautiful face.

You sign whatever paperwork is required before silently taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to the car. He holds it tight, a shiver of a tremor rocking through it.

“Babe, what happened?” you ask once you’re safely outside, away from where the officers can hear you.

Eddie lets go of your hand to throw his arm around you dramatically, leaning with his whole body weight. The sudden force of it has you stumbling, but he catches your fall.

“It’s awful being on the inside,” he whines, trying to lay on an exaggerated pout, but his smile pokes through. “You’ve made me too soft for prison, baby. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you and almost got shanked.”

His joke subtly informs you that he’s not ready to actually discuss it yet, and so you roll your eyes and play along for now. “Poor thing. Locked up for a whole forty minutes.”

“It was more like forty-five,” he protests, “and every second counts when it’s spent missing my girl.”

“You’re so full of it, Munson.” My girl. If he never calls you anything else but his girl for the rest of your lives, you wouldn’t complain.

He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in so your back is pressed against his chest. “Full of longing and devotion!”

“Sshh!” you chastise him lightly through your giggling. “Get in the car, crazy man.”

“Crazy ‘bout you!” Eddie says, booping your nose. As soon as your fingers wrap around the gearshift, he’s resting his hand atop yours. It trembles slightly.

Tell me what happened. Don’t keep any more secrets from me. I won’t judge you or leave you. I’m your girl, remember?

It takes a few blocks before you finally work up the courage to ask, “Is everything okay?” It’s a stupid question; you don’t get arrested if everything’s okay, but the alternative is a more straightforward, Why the hell did I have to pick you up from jail?, so you acquiesce.

“‘M good.” He gives your hand another tiny squeeze and attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You sigh, poorly hiding your impatience for answers you need to know. “Can we talk about what happened?”

His slow release of breath is in sync with your foot pressing on the brake pedal as you approach a stop sign. “Not a big deal. Just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding that led to you getting arrested?” Stop hiding. Stop pretending. Stop acting like this is fine when it clearly isn’t. Stop making me feel like you don’t trust me. The words get caught behind clenched teeth, threatening to ooze through the gaps.

“Yup.” He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes as though giving a sufficient response to end the conversation.

You drive another few minutes before you spot the sign for Lovers Lake in the distance. There’s only one surefire way to calm his nerves; whatever it is he’s keeping from you, there’s a reason he hasn’t worked up the courage to say it.

Eddie sits up and peers out the window in confusion when you veer to the exit. “Where are we—”

“You’ll see.”

Parking in a spot secluded by trees and the dark of night, you turn to him and stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Can I make my man feel good?” you coo, taking his earlobe between your teeth and tugging lightly. You can feel the small bump where his piercings used to be.

“Shit, baby,” he breathily groans, adjusting the seat so you have ample space to straddle his lap. His hands fly to his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling the leather strip from its loops. Though his pants aren’t as tight around him now, you can still see the outline of his now half-hard cock beginning to press against his fly. “‘S exactly what I need.”

But it isn’t solely the act of sex that he needs, although it would be a farce to imply that he didn’t crave the feeling of you wrapped around him. It was the public nature of it; the way that anyone could walk by and see you on top of him. Could see you choosing him. The teacher choosing the Freak.

You roll your hips, denim-on-denim creating a delicious friction that draws moans from both you and Eddie. Your lips chastely graze his neck, trailing kisses upwards until you reach the prickly stubble along his jawline.

Eddie’s hands grab your ass, claiming it as his. “Feels—mmf—feels good,” he grunts, letting out a soft chuckle when he adds, “gonna make me cream my jeans if you keep grinding on me like that.”

“S’okay,” you shrug, maintaining your tempo. You press your lips to his and he whines into your mouth. “Just wanna ease your mind tonight, Eds.”

“Yeah, but the face you make when you cum? Christ, babe. Makes it even better for me.” He scoots you off of him for a moment, laughing again when he sees your lower lip jut out. “Let me just grab a condom, you needy little thing.”

You bury your head in the crook of his neck and begin sucking on its supple skin as he fumbles for his wallet. “Fine, fine,” you grumble, a teasing lilt in your tone. “The last thing we need is for people seeing that you knocked me up.”

Eddie freezes beneath you, his wallet falling to the weather-mat with a thud. “Wh…what?” His voice is below a whisper, volume compressed by emotion.

“We’ve only been together, like, a month.” It’s too obvious a point to confuse him. There’s no way he really wants a kid with you right now. “We can’t have a baby—”

Eddie vehemently shakes his head, effectively cutting you off. “But that’s not what you said.” You see hurt in his eyes as you try to piece together the puzzle. The fact that you can’t immediately identify the source adds another element of frustration for both of you. “You said that we can’t have people seeing that I knocked you up. Why…why wouldn’t you want people knowing that I…?”

The imagined swell of your belly that he’d hoped you proudly show off, mindlessly caressing it as you walk hand-in-hand with him, is now covered with layers of clothing, even in summer’s heat. You’re tugging a cardigan closed, determined not to let anyone see the shame you’re carrying along with Eddie Munson’s child.

“I just figured you wouldn’t want people talking about you,” you manage, thinking of the rumor that had spread after Harris’s injury. You bring yourself back to the driver’s seat, and it takes another moment before something else dawns on you. “You wouldn’t be upset by people knowing? I mean, not that we’d, y’know, have a kid right now…because you already have one, and this is all so new…” You clamp your lips together to shut yourself up, having already blabbered on for too long.

Eddie shakes his head, tousling his frizzy curls. “Why would I be upset? You’re my girl.” Worry ripples through him, evident through his expression. His doe eyes grow even wider, and he spins his rings around his fingers. One slips and bounces off of the passenger seat, but he doesn’t move to retrieve it. “You still want to be my girl, right?”

“I still want to be your girl,” you confirm, watching his body decompress with relief. “I just don’t want to make things even worse than they are. I mean, you can’t even tell me why you were in jail tonight. That’s a pretty big deal, Eds.” There’s a lump in your throat as you force out your feelings. You hate confronting people, hate drawing information from an unwilling party. But Eddie is your boyfriend, and this is serious. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he mutters, keeping his head on the headrest and eyes trained on in front of him; his unwillingness to look at you serves as an act of defiance. “I had to hear about the PTA meeting from Wayne.”

The contents of your stomach curdle like milk in the sun. “You’d just told me about your promotion,” you stumble, unable to find footing in your meek protest, “I didn’t want to—”

“So, yesterday? Or today?” he pushes, a tango of anger and hurt dancing in his darkened pupils. “You could’ve called me.”

You could have; you’d certainly considered it more than once, but you didn’t want to bother him. It seemed like such an asinine complaint: Oh, Eddie, a grown adult bullied me, another grown adult, at the PTA meeting. Did I stand up for myself? Nope. Just sat there and tried not to sob like one of the kids I teach. “I thought if you knew what people were saying, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. You’d think I was too much of a burden.”

“You?” Eddie gawps, nearly choking on the word. “You think that you’re the burden? That you’re the reason why people are talking about this?” People. Not just Carol. The information slips from his lips, but he doesn’t catch it. “Nah, Sweetheart. In the equation of ‘Teacher’ plus ‘Freak,’ you’re hardly the problematic variable.”

“‘Teacher plus Freak?’”

“Teacher,” he says slowly, pointing to you, “Freak.” He brings his forefinger to his own chest. “I’m kinda used to it; just sucks when it affects other people.” He looks at you through his soft brown eyes. “People I care about.”

You’re unsure how to respond, so you say nothing. You vaguely recall Jess telling you about his high school nickname, but you had no idea it had stuck after all these years.

Eddie sighs, shifting his position to get slightly more comfortable. “Tonight, I was at the store getting some flowers for you. And, um, I heard Carol and Billy Hargrove talking about how you had to be desperate to be with me. That you’d realize you’re too good for me and leave.” His teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lowers his head. You watch a tear slide down his cheek, and he sucks in a messy breath as he tries to control the dam of emotions threatening to burst.

“Too good for you?” The notion is almost comical, and you have to hold back an incredulous laugh. “Too good for the man who rescued Grandma after she locked herself in her room? Who came to her funeral? Who gave me another chance after I made an ass out of myself?” You use your pointer and middle fingers to tilt his chin upwards until his gaze meets yours. “Too good for the man who would do anything for his son?”

“No,” Eddie shoots back, “too good for the guy who grew up being taunted because he played Dungeons & Dragons instead of basketball. The guy who abandoned his pregnant girlfriend to go on tour. Who treated you like shit just to avoid getting close to you. Who…who got arrested for accidentally taking flowers from Bradley’s because he’d stolen from them so much that no one believed him when he said it wasn’t on purpose.” He recalls swiping candy bars, jars of peanut butter, and the occasional six-pack of Pabst during his rebellious teenage years. After he’d schlepped back to Hawkins, proverbial tail tucked between his legs, there was more than one occasion where he’d ripped diapers from their boxes and tucked them into his jacket pocket, walking as casually as he could until he was a safe enough distance to exhale and run.

You take a sharp breath in. “That’s what happened tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says; the admission is a sack of bricks being lifted from his chest. “Those schmucks got in my head, and I walked out the store with the flowers like a fuckin’ idiot.” He replays the scene in his head, inwardly cringing at his desperation to flee the premises and inadvertently drawing everyone’s attention to him. He starts to laugh, but anger, sadness, and relief all brew together and the dam bursts completely. One tear multiples to two, four, eight, until he’s simultaneously choking on sobs and laughter, the overlapping emotions wreaking havoc on his nervous system.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he manages through another half-laugh half-sob. He swipes at his cheeks with open palms, and you reach for the travel box of Kleenex you keep in the glove compartment and hand him a tissue. “Thanks.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize to me for crying,” you murmur, barely audible as you press a kiss into his mess of curls just behind his left ear. “I want–I need you to be able to show me what you’re feeling.” Eddie blows his nose, loud and honking, and your lips turn up into a small smile. “Why do we let them get to us?” you wonder aloud, a question more for you than for him.

“I was thinking about that,” Eddie muses, stuffing the used tissue into his jacket pocket. He’ll try and remember to toss it later, but part of him knows he’ll find it there tomorrow. “Like, I didn’t give a damn what they said about me back in high school, but now, as an adult, I do?” He takes a deep breath through his mouth. “And I realized…it’s because I never cared about what they thought of me. Not really. But, fuck, I care about what you think of me.” He swallows before stroking your cheek. “I want to be enough for you.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, letting your lips linger there longer than necessary to ensure the feeling of belonging becomes entrenched in his pores. “You’re enough, Eddie. You’ve always been enough.” Your hands find his, and you lace your fingers together. “I have an idea. Why don’t we grab some takeout, maybe pick up a bottle of wine, and bring it back to my place.” You immediately worry that you’ve proven his point of not wanting to be seen with him, so you quickly backtrack. “We can still go out to dinner; I just figured…after the night you had…”

He silences you with a kiss of his own, nose nudging the side of yours. “I’d love that.” Before you can start the car again, he says, “what Carol said at the meeting…did it really make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you?”

You nod solemnly, breaking his heart all over again. “You already have so much on your plate. I didn’t want to be another problem to deal with.”

Eddie’s expression hardens, but his frustration isn’t directed towards you. It’s for anyone who has ever made you feel like loving you is a chore. He does the only thing he can think of doing: he takes your face in his hands, fingers tucked behind the smooth skin of your ears, and peppers your face in a flurry of kisses.

“Eddie!” you cry out through a fit of giggles. Your eyes squeeze together as his lips tickle your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your chin.

He only pulls away to take a breath, and when he does, he’s smiling through shiny eyes as he continues holding your face. “You are not a problem. Never.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “We make each other happy. And if anyone tries to fuck with that, we’ll just…sic Harris on them.”

The gray clouds that were scattered across your brain dissipate at the mere idea of the boy charging at Billy and Carol like a miniature rhinoceros. Insecurity still hovers over you, waiting for the perfect blend of sadness and vulnerability to strike, but it’s not quite as heavy as it was before.

You aren’t too much for Eddie, and Eddie is enough for you.

And you’re everything to each other.

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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steddiehyperfixation · 8 months

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don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy.

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.”

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that.

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again.

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said.

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.”

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.”

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work.

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number.

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago.

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.”

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.”

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.”

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.”

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror.

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth-

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory.

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it.

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods.

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.”

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.”

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?”

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.”

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.”

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.”

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right.

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him.

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?”

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home.

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this.

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.”

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm.

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.”

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him.

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?”

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.”

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.”

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

#and that's all folks!#endings are so hard for me but i hope you guys like this one #huge huge thank you to everyone who's followed along; all the love and support on this has been insane and i am so grateful <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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doki-doki-imagines · 7 months

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hiii, could you please do mk1 earthrealmers reaction to them trying to put music during spicy time but their s/o keeps getting distracted the whole time by singing/dancing along to every song that they choose, i just thought it could be a funny situation 😅😅

author note: I had to change the prompt a bit because it would have been a bit repetitive. If it's a problem feel free to request again. If you like what I write consider tipping on my new ko-fi!

Johnny Cage: -He prepared a romantic night to the best of his capabilities. Red petals on your bed, dim candlelights to illuminate the room, and a soft and sexy song playing in the background. -But something went wrong when all of sudden, between groans and heavy breaths "Poker face" started to play. -It doesn't stop Johnny from kissing down your neck, lips never leaving your skin. Your head isn't on the same wavelength tho. -You start to hum the song, but Johnny notices just when his lips caress your chest, feeling the vibrations underneath. -"Are you…singing along?" "Maybe? C'mon Johnny, it's impossible not to!" -He smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and shakes his head before pulling you into his covered lap. Deft fingers working to free himself. -"Are you still in?" "Mh? Yes." You nod, your soft hands on his cheeks. "Perfect sweetheart. Keep singing to your heart's content, let's see how long it will take me to make you reach the highest notes."

Kenshi Takahashi:

-It was your idea to put music on, to try something new.

-Soon you forget about it, Kenshi reducing you to a puddle under his expert hands.

-You are so out of your mind that you don’t notice the songs going from slow and sexy to rhythmic and perfect for dancing.

-But then you notice something is off. His fingers, now in you move…strangely? Kenshi has always been a tease, but trying to avoid your sweet spot for so long it’s becoming tears-inducing, and not the pleasure kind.

-So you start to focus your attention on the movements of his fingers when finally realization hits you.

”Are you trying to keep the rhythm of the song, Kenshi?”

He looks at you, black eyes now full of shame, lips sucked in before nodding.

-He stops moving and a chuckle leaves your lips. You take the back of his head to bring him closer and kiss him.

“Nice sense of the rhythm. Next time I’ll make sure to choose the right songs.”

“I’ll help you with that.”

Kung Lao:

-It’s not the first time you put music on; the walls of his house are pretty thin.

-But usually, you use Lao’s playlist since he can be pretty picky with music.

-But this time he asked to listen to one of yours, curious to discover new songs.

-It’s all going like usual, ‘till you hear Lao humming. Your favorite song is also playing.

“So…you like this song too?”

“Damn, it’s so catchy!”

-You end up karaoke just in your undergarments with Lao.

-Don’t worry, you’ll get back to lovemaking later. After all, everything is more enjoyable if done with a smile.

Raiden:

-You were the one that asked him if you could try to listen to music while doing “it” and Raiden accepted with no problem.

-You made a new playlist trying to add songs Raiden could enjoy.

-Everything goes smoothly, you sit on his lap your tongue dancing with his, while Raiden’s hands travel down your body, caressing and groping.

-Until a song starts, and his movements stop. He is still kissing you, so you don’t notice something is wrong.

-“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Raiden pulls you off, annoyance dripping from his face.

“Mh? What is wrong, Rai?”

-“The song that is playing now…we used to sing it with Lao and Fujin when we were kids. It really broke my mood remembering their faces.” He groans out. The face of his best friend the last thing he'd like to remember in these kind of moments.

“You sang such a sexual song when you were kids?”

“You also sang sexual stuff without knowing the real meaning behind the words, right?”

You tilt your head before answering “Well, you have a point.”

-You don’t do any stuff that day, but you decided that it will be Raiden to make the playlist next time.

Liu Kang:

-You know he likes listening to music in his free time, so you think he may enjoy your proposal.

-And he does! Nodding at you with a big smile, a joy that reaches his eyes.

-Mostly because he thinks too that it could be really hot.

-Everything is going as planned, his hot mouth biting your throat while his hands travel from your hips to your back. Until a song starts to play and a sigh, not one born from pleasure, leaves his lips.

-Liu Kang has to sit on the bed. Now sobbing uncontrollably. That song is the one he used to sing with his Kung Lao when they were just kids. When Lao and Raiden became his family.

-You have never seen Liu crying so you worry immediately, asking him what happened, your soft arms hugging his back, trying to calm him down.

-There will be a lot to unpack…

Geras:

-He doesn’t know mortal traditions so he doesn’t mind if you put music.

-And he also doesn’t mind when you start to sing and dance around! But you’ll have to explain to him it’s not some kind of dance to attract the potential partner.

-“Unless…”

“What?”

“Do you find me hot while dancing? Even when I sing so terribly?” You whisper out, your arms around his neck, heads a few inches apart.

“I always find you hot.”

-There is a moment of silence where you’ll look straight into his eyes.

“Come here.”

-Music is soon forgotten in the background.

Bi-Han:

-He is playing his transverse flute when you approach him.

-You reached the level of comfort where Bi-Han feels at ease playing in front of you, and you love it; he really has talent.

-But you decide to spice things up this time.

-You approach him, sliding kisses down his neck while he is still playing the flute, deft fingers opening his uniform, now dropping to the ground.

-“What do you think you’re doing?” He stops, voice rough, but with no bite.

“Just having fun. Keep playing, Grandmaster.” You wink at him, not moving until he starts playing the instrument again.

-And he does, never missing a note even with your warm mouth reaching more arousing parts of his physique. It’s when you drop to your knees that he stops again, his hand now in your hair, pushing you away from his crotch.

-“Now listen to me-“

You tsk, brushing his hand away, confidence dripping from your eyes.

“A snake obeys his charmer only when he plays his flute. Keep doing that Bi-Han.”

-He gulps down loudly. You know that a harsh comeback just died in his throat. He nods at you, his lips back on the instrument.

-Maybe you were the real charmer this time.

Kuai Liang:

-He has to admit that he gets annoyed by your change of mood.

-Liang loves to hear your sounds, so putting music in the background isn’t really his thing but he also thought “Why not try?” It’s not like it was a big no-no for him.

-But now it is. For Liang intimacy is a serious moment and even if he may sneak some jokes once in a while he prefers to keep a more serious atmosphere.

-He gets grumpy so it will take a lot of effort to put a smile on his face. For sure lovemaking is delayed.

-With enough convincing Liang may dance along with you, but don’t force him to sing or he will go back to grumpy.

Tomas Vrbada:

-He smiles when he notices you humming the song, but soon follows you.

-Tomas won’t dance with you, preferring to look at you from his comfortable position on the bed.

-But he will sing! His singing voice is terrible but it’s the feeling that matters.

-At some point, Tomas will get closer to sneak kisses here and there.

-After all, you are dancing just in undergarments; it’s a wonderful sight that makes his blood run awfully quick away from his brain.

-Lovemaking is not delayed, he will pull you toward the bed with him. Just the mood changed, a lot of smiles and playful kisses shared.

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notjustjavierpena · 5 months

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Sucía: Part II - Hungover

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Finally, a follow-up to Birthday Girl. So sorry about the wait. ALSO BE NICE TO ME SINCE I HAVEN’T WRITTEN ASSPLAY BEFORE! Can be read alone

Summary: You meet Javier again but this time, you are hungover in a corner store and with sunglasses on inside.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, mention of f masturbation, javi is a flirt, reader is hungover and later tipsy, use of papi/daddy, alcohol consumption, classic booty call, flirty banter, dirty talk, kissing, dom/sub dynamics, blowjob, verbal humiliation, face-fucking, deepthroating, clit stim, doggy style but add a police grip, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, spanking, assplay, anal fingering, creampie, overstim, pussy eating, come eating, bit of subdrop, aftercare cuddles

Word count: 4.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48859147/chapters/123256180

Hungover

The hangover is worse than you thought it would be. It makes noises seem overwhelming to your ears, which had been fine listening to booming club music the night before, and fluorescent lights prickle at your eyes, so much so that you decide to wear sunglasses as you walk down to the corner store near your apartment building. You have the shakes, the fatigue, the savory cravings.

But you also have the dull ache of getting harshly fucked between your legs. The memory is hardly foggy because you can’t stop thinking about it, the underlying roughness beneath Javier’s surface, and how you have spent the day in bed with your hand in your panties to try to reach even a shred of the same excitement you felt when he had you.

You reach the cooler with Arizona iced teas and rest the bottle that you pick out against your forehead. It soothes slightly. With your other hand, you find a bag of chips that you normally find disgusting.

As you contemplate making a dip, you suddenly get the feeling of someone watching you. At first, you try to shake it but when it gets more intense, you whirl around and nearly bump into—

“Javier?” With the chips bag between your fingers, you use your index finger and thumb to peel your sunglasses off.

“Oh, so it is you,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, raising a brow at, but not commenting on, your appearance; messy bun and gray sweatpants with an unflattering word in rhinestones across your ass. Instead, he smirks, “Bad hangover?”

“You could say that,” you say, a little embarrassed. After all, who you are in the nightlife is hardly who you are in real life, “I think I overdid it a little last night.”

“But you remember?” Javier takes a step towards you, seems unaware of doing it, and your pulse immediately spikes.

“How could I forget?” You are not in the right attire for flirting but Javier looks pleased and relieved, even slightly amused, eyes traveling down your body as if he is trying to imagine what the baggy pants are hiding.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” he states and suddenly starts walking towards the counter. You find yourself following him without any question.

You swallow, trying to change the subject in case it gets too heated for public ears to hear, “What are you getting?”

“I was just getting some cigarettes but now I’m getting a number too, aren’t I?” He gestures to the countertop and you place your chips and iced tea on it.

“Perhaps.”

“And a pack of cigarettes,” Javier says to the cashier, a young teenager with curious eyes as he observes your interaction. Javier points to the brand that he likes and it’s added to the mix.

“I—“ you protest.

Javier holds up a hand and pays without a word. He rests a hand on the counter as he speaks to the teenager who is in awe by now, “You have a pen, kid?”

The cashier quickly retrieves one from underneath the counter. He hands it to Javier who turns to you, reaches out for your wrist, which burns with excitement as he touches it, and scribbles his number on your arm, “There.”

“How do you know I’ll call you?” You challenge as you pick up your things.

“I’m pretty confident,” he shrugs, “I make an impression, I’ve been told.”

His smugness is hot and nauseating at the same time. You hit him with a line that you know only he knows the true meaning of, shoving the pack of cigarettes into your pockets too without giving him time to protest.

“Thanks, Papi,” you start heading for the door.

Javier chuckles in disbelief.

“Wow,” the cashier says as you leave, and despite having your back turned, you can picture him gaping at Javier who is watching you leave, “Dude, teach me your ways.”

—

You call Javier a week later. It’s in the middle of the night, you’ve been out once again, Hannah’s orders, and you don’t want to go home to your empty apartment. You aren’t drunk except for that your voice is a little louder than usual as you speak into the pay phone outside the club.

“Are you home?” You ask.

“Are you drunk?” He interrogates.

“Just tipsy,” you reassure, confident, “Give me your address. I’ll come by… unless you’re busy.”

“I’m not.”

“Then give me your address,” you push. If you don’t get him out of your system soon, you think you might lose your mind, and what better way than to fuck it out? You sigh animatedly, try to make it sound so he can practically hear the way you are batting your lashes, “Please, Daddy.”

“Jesus, you’re filthy,” he breathes on the other end of the line, and then gives in, “Fine, I’ll tell you my address.”

You tell it to a cab driver a moment later and soon, you are knocking on Javier’s door at three in the morning for a so-called booty call.

He opens the door in nothing but his jeans.

“Still dressed?” You question, “Thought I had woken you up.”

“Working,” he explains, throwing his head in the direction of his dining table. It is filled with paperwork, case files, and other documents.

“Ah,” you step through to the living room, having left your heels by the door that Javier closes behind you.

“Whiskey?” He asks when he joins you, grabbing your elbow to get your attention and causing electricity to course through your body. You smile at him and nod, engaging in unnecessary formalities; you know that he knows you’re just here to fuck.

“If you don’t have anything else,” you tease.

When Javier serves you a glass a minute later, you knock the shot back a little too expertly but still grimace at the burn from the liquor. Javier snorts at the sight, shaking the bottle gently, “More?”

You shake your head, “You actually like that stuff?”

“Smart mouth,” he sighs.

“Last time, you had music to drown me out,” you smirk, leaning back into your seat and feeling the warmth of the whiskey starting to spread through your body. You run a hand through your hair, “Look, you wanna fuck or drink your whiskey?”

It is nowhere near normal for you to be this bold but the warm buzz of the whiskey has made you brave like you were on the dance floor. You blink prettily at him, and he responds by placing the bottle on the glass table without making too much noise.

“Oh, you’re a dirty one, aren’t you?” Javier’s voice has dropped to a lower pitch, and your whole core is aching for him to touch you like you know he can, “Thought you were just putting on a show for me at the club but you’re really dirty.”

“I can show you if you let me,” you say confidently but still try to compose yourself as he inches closer to you. You can see that he wants to kiss you like he did a week before, and you decide to be the one who initiates it.

It feels different this time because his body is more exposed, showing the faint hairs scattered across his chest and the shape of his shoulders that had only been left to imagination last time and thus become a fantasy as you lay in your bed at home with two fingers inside of yourself. You grab onto them, digging your fingers into the golden skin, and moan into the kiss. His mouth is open against yours, broad hands on your waist and lower back, and he moves you a step backward every other second.

Soon, your lips are swollen from kisses but they are not being kissed anymore. Instead, Javier has moved down to your jaw and throat, both parts stinging slightly from his mustache having scratched you. However, he soothes you with the warmth of his tongue and all is forgiven because you are so wet that you cannot think straight. It has been a while since you have met a man who has kept you quite on your toes like he does.

You eventually reach the bedroom, dimly lit like he knows how to make it inviting for sex. The nightstand sports several stacks of books but as curious as you are about your suitor, you focus on the bed instead. It looks like the sheets will envelop you in his scent. It is too much of an opportunity to pass up and makes you break free from his arms. The alcohol in your blood persuades you to crawl into his bed without hesitation, feeling the cotton bedding underneath your skin.

You were right. The bed smells like him; like a mix between sleep and cologne, and it is so masculine that you turn onto your back to stare up at him with the best impression of a siren’s hazy gaze. You slide the straps of your dress off your shoulders, revealing no bra underneath it when your tits spill out as soon as you pull the front of the dress down. Javier stares without any hesitation or shame.

“C’mere, crawl to me,” he stands by the foot of the bed, making no indication that he is going to join you. You follow his command, getting up on all fours and making your way towards the edge. The dress sits around your waist. He grins down at you, “Oh, you’re a special girl, aren’t you? Look at you doing what you’re told.”

You blink up at him, eyelashes fluttering as you reach out for his belt. He hardens underneath the denim whilst you work the buckle, and the clink of the metal causes a rush of arousal to your lower body.

When you undo his zipper, his stomach jumps underneath no touch. He breathes deeply in through his nose, “Can’t control myself. I haven’t stopped thinking about your mouth taking my dick last weekend.”

You tug his jeans down, realizing that he has gone commando underneath. It doesn’t surprise you though, just makes you stare up at him completely wide-eyed but mostly for show. He chuckles when you gape down at his cock which has now sprung free. He seems to notice it is an act and decides to play along, “Took it so well too. Think you can repeat the success, bebita (baby)?”

You nod and then lower your head whilst still looking up at him through your lashes. He waits politely above you, arms along his sides, but shows his impatience with the way his hand twitches slightly when you breathe onto his length.

You waste no time teasing him, wanting to show him that your talent for sucking cock is not just a skill he had imagined last time, not just a result of having been drunk on being edged by fucking your pussy open.

You wrap your lips around the girthy head and suck as you pull off until you earn a guttural growl from him. His mouth goes slack when you engulf him in your warmth again, bobbing your head and pulling your soft lips along the shaft over and over again. A hand rests on your head.

“That’s it,” he praises and tries to keep his hips still, his hand tensing up on top of your head in a way that tells you that he is holding back from pushing forward just yet, “Recuerdo que eres sucía (I remember that you’re filthy). Suck that cock, Princesa (princess), like a whore.”

You let saliva gather in your mouth until it sounds obscene when you take more of his cock into your mouth, fitting your hand around what you cannot fit past your kiss-swollen lips. The head bumps against the back of your mouth and causes a wet gag. Javier lets out a sharp sigh of pleasure. You repeat the move until your throat squeezes around him and his fingers tangle into your hair.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs above you. Your eyes travel up his body to stare at his face, just to get a glimpse before another choke on his dick will blur your vision with tears. His eyes are closed, a crease between his brows telling you that he is concentrating on the pleasure you are giving him.

You hum as you suck him harder, cheeks hollowed and lips stretched. There’s a determination to hear him growl like he did before since it made your pussy clench around nothing. He’ll find out the state of your panties soon enough, and you hope he’ll know that it’s the result of greedily sucking him off.

Javier’s eyes open carefully and his fingers tighten their grip hard enough to hurt your sensitive follicles when you make eye contact. He pulses in your mouth when you smirk around him, spit dribbling down your chin from how much effort you are putting into drooling on his dick.

Whenever his breathing pattern changes, you squeeze around the base of his cock to calm his excitement down again. He gets impatient and thrusts his hips forward, the tip of his dick sliding into the tightest space of your throat. It makes you bury your nose in the hair at the base of his cock, your hand falling down into your lap when it has no more to hold.

Tears spring from your eyes but you don’t falter. Instead, you moan pornographically to tell him it is okay, and Javier takes the opportunity to fuck your mouth until his cock is wet from both your spit and your tears.

To steady yourself, you reach up and place a hand on his lower belly. You scratch with your nails, meeting the snaps of his lower body with a tell of experience.

“You’re a little slut,” he groans, “I can tell you suck dick on the regular. How many have had you like this? Because I know I’m not the first.”

You gag on him instead of giving any indication of an answer. He chuckles breathlessly and stills his hips to guide you with the hand in your hair instead, creating a makeshift ponytail to force you onto his dick. You take whatever he wants to give you, pussy so touch-starved that it makes your head spin.

“S-stop,” he eventually moans and loosens his grip but still cannot make himself pull out of your tight wet throat, “Pull off, I— shit, baby, you almost made me come.”

You do as you are told. An obscene string of saliva connects between your mouth and the tip of his dick, and he uses a thumb to sever it by trailing the digit across your swollen bottom lip. He smiles affectionately when you suck the finger into your mouth, “Want this messy thumb on your clit, huh?”

You nod with his finger still in your mouth. Slick arousal has started to spill through your underwear, smearing your inner thighs with how much giving him a blowjob has made you gush. You pull away, his thumb slipping from your mouth making a popping sound.

“Legs up, come on now,” he guides after you have completely rid yourself of your dress. You lay back and scoot to the very edge of the bed. Then you try to hook your legs over his hips, but he grabs your ankles one by one to rest your feet against his front, stretching your limbs high into the air.

He makes a self-satisfied face when he guides his wet thumb underneath the fabric of your underwear to find that he had never even needed your spit; you are drenched and waiting. He scoops some of your wetness onto his thumb and then presses down on your clit, seeming to remember just where it is from last time. He swirls the digit on the swollen nub, “Right there?”

You whimper and nod. Your toes curl, “Sí (yes), Papí. Don’t stop.”

“You can still talk after getting throat-fucked like that?” He taunts but doesn’t make any indication that he’ll tease or edge you. No, he seems determined to have you remember how good he is in bed and he reminds you of it by giving your clit the attention it needs. He swirls his thumb, goes from side to side, and up and down until your voice starts growing in pitch.

He listens, really listens, and observes your reactions to what he does and with each beat of your heart, you gush a little more slick onto the sheets. Only a minute later, you have an earth-shattering clit-orgasm that has your brows furrowed and your eyes screwed shut.

“Fuck me,” you beg during your high but he shakes his head, and you nearly decide to lose it. Though the eyes he gives you make you unable to protest. That gaze makes it seem like you’ll take anything he says as gospel, even when your walls are spasming around nothing. He knows better, there’s no doubt about it. You await his next move, head falling back on the mattress and with big eyes fixated on the way he towers over your smaller frame.

“Turn around,” he eventually decides, “Crawl back on the bed.”

You follow orders in your post-orgasmic state, blood rushing in your ears so you cannot be sure if you actually hear him chuckle at your shaking legs when you try crawling to the middle of the bed. You pose on your hands and knees in the sexiest manner you can manage, awaiting his cock with an obedient and desperate cunt in the air.

Whatever your brain cannot process in your pleasurable haze, you must feel instead, and behind you, Javier’s weight makes the mattress dip beneath the both of you. He has knelt behind you and you whimper as his strong, broad palms settle on your hips to pull them into the height that he needs them to be.

“Gimme your hands,” he commands but you cannot register it fast enough when you feel so empty and weak from not being fucked, so he yanks your arms behind your back one at a time without warning. You plant your face right into the sheets with a whine that’s muffled by the fabric until you think to turn your head to the side. This time, you are sure about the fact that he is laughing darkly at you.

You realize he has you in a police grip, able to do whatever he wants and you realize that he wants to fuck you raw, no piece of rubber between you. This doesn’t bother you one bit tonight.

He only lets go of your wrists to guide his cock inside of your quivering body with one hand, then holds onto your arms again with both when your warm and soft heat engulfs him.

“Listen, bebita (baby). It’s like three in the morning and the neighbors are asleep,” he tells you and you don’t think you could ever stay quiet when he is so big inside of you. You are just about to say something but then he surprises you by finishing his sentence, “Do you understand? I’m gonna need you to scream for me.”

Oh.

“Sí (yes), Papi,” you groan as you still try to adjust to his girth, not quite remembering that his dick had felt this huge inside of you the last time you were together. He settles deep inside of you, fills you out until you cannot take any more of him, and then pounds you.

“Bet they’re all over you when you’re out playing a little tease in the club. I was,” he muses as he fucks you hard enough to make the bed rattle underneath you, fingers denting the delicate skin of your wrists. The headboard has already started to repeatedly bang against the wall and the sudden halts to each movement of the furniture make his thrusts painful, “Bet they wanna touch and fuck you like I get to. You know how much you make men think about sex, don’t you?”

“Javi,” you pant as he continues, not able to do much more than take it and feel the heat pool between your thighs. You are soaking wet around him, lewd noises of your stretched-out cunt sucking him in filling the room each time he goes deep enough to have you see God.

“Can’t say anything else, can you? Fucked stupid, is that it?” He moans when you shake and nod your head, mind too foggy to figure out which move is the right one when you have gotten two questions in a row. You can only think of his huge cock driving brutally into you, “You weren’t like this last time but we weren’t— ah, fuck. We weren’t in private last time, were we?”

This time you know to shake your head. You want to come, God, you are going to soon.

“But now I have you all to myself and I get to show this gorgeous pussy who’s boss, fuck the brat out of her,” he lets go with one hand to smack your ass harshly and groans when you squeeze around his length in surprise, a yelp tearing itself from your throat, “You like that? Make it hurt, wasn’t that what you said?”

“Yes, please,” you finally manage a coherent word that isn’t his name. The knot in your belly is starting to tighten and his rapid movements are starting to make your body respond by building up a high, “Yes, I do, don’t stop! You— you’re gonna make me come, Papi.”

He growls and seeks his own satisfaction and pleasure, knowing that he won’t need to do anything else to make you come again other than fucking against your g-spot whilst his heavy balls slap against your clit. In response, all you can do is drool and lie in it, his harsh rhythm forcing the air out of your lungs in high cries with every crash of his hips into you.

“What more do you like?” He smacks your ass again, faltering for less than a second as he gets an idea, “Eres una chica sucía, ¿te gusta un dedo en el culo (You’re a dirty girl, you like a finger in your ass)?”

You rub your forehead against the sheets when you nod frantically. Behind you, Javier stops talking but only to obscenely spit down the cleft of your ass and use his thumb to smear it over the ring of muscle there.

You gasp and whimper, pushing back into the touch.

“Whore,” he pants and adds pressure to your hole.

“Want it, Daddy,” you beg softly.

He eases the digit inside of you and your eyes roll back into your skull when he adds a whole new sensation to getting fucked by him. He can’t contain himself at the sight of his finger disappearing into your ass over and over, “I know you do. So fucking take it.”

The pressure inside of you from two places becomes too much. You get one more breath in before pleasure erupts from your sensitive pussy and you come hard with a cry loud enough to make your voice crack. Javier swears loudly behind you when your walls choke his cock and your untouched clit pulses in interest too at feeling something so powerful.

“Come in me, Javi,” you cry as he fucks you through your overstimulation. Your skin is slick with sweat, glistening as it beads along your spine and settles into the dip in your arched back.

“Say please, Princesa (princess),” he breathes rapidly, trying to hold back until you have done what he says.

“Please,” you sob, “Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Good girl,” he praises and gives you only a few thrusts more. He comes inside of you with a grunt, stilling his hips whilst his cock twitches as it shoots and pulses inside of you. It is enough to make it drip out of you already, creating a ring around his dick that lazily starts sliding in and out of your abused hole to milk the very last drops from the tip.

You fall flat on your front the second he pulls out. Nothing else exists except your fucked-out body, nerves tingling with electricity at how hard you have felt ecstatic pleasure tonight. You want to giggle or sob or giggle and sob but your eyelids feel so heavy.

“You okay?” Javier asks from behind you. He has crawled forward to hover over you, placing a kiss on your shoulder, “Pussy took a pounding.”

“‘M fine,” you mutter with a little sigh as Javier’s lips leave kisses in their wake as he moves down your used, trembling body. He rubs your aching thighs.

“Should apologize to her,” he mumbles and places a kiss on the small of your back. You whimper in reply, pulling your arms forward to bury your spinning head in them and relish in the softness that he gives you.

However, that softness has ulterior motives because soon, he is tilting your hips a little. He is still trailing his tongue over your lower back, through the sweat that has pooled there and then further down over your puckered hole. He ends with his mouth between your folds, hands that had been soothing your legs now curling around your thighs to pull them slightly apart so he can eat the dribble of come right from your freshly-fucked pussy.

“I can’t,” you groan even if it’s soothing to feel his soft tongue inside of you.

“Yes,” he slurps loudly and scoops more out of you, going down to lap on your clit. Between tortuous sucks that are strong enough to hollow his cheeks, he talks softly, “Just take it, bebita (baby). Let me make you feel better. You took it so well.”

A third high burns deep below your belly button but he builds it slower than when he had had his thumb on your clit by switching between eating from your seam and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Javi,” you feel stupid for having said his name so many times tonight without following it up with anything else but he seems to understand what each enunciation of his name means.

“I know,” he coos and bobs his head a little, “I’m almost done, just a little more.”

When you are clean of any remnants of his spill, he works towards your orgasm whilst you cry feebly. He sucks at your clit with gentle enthusiasm, coaxing your exhausted body to reach its climax once again not long after. Tears spring from your eyes as pleasure is forced to flow through your cunt again, rapid clenching around nothing making your hips stutter as you think you might gush enough to ruin the mattress.

Javier pulls away as soon as you come down, moving to lie down beside you and give you the space that you need. You cry in your overwhelmed state but it’s only silent tears that slide down over your nose and cheek.

He tuts and coos, “Nena (Babygirl).”

That nickname makes you cry louder.

“Do you need help getting onto your back?” He asks carefully. You nod and without hesitation, he helps you move your body around until you are on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” you feel embarrassed but unable to control your emotions.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod again.

He reaches to turn your head towards himself, cupping your cheek carefully and using his thumb to brush a tear away. You hold onto his wrist as he kisses you.

“No more tears,” he tells you with a soft smile and strokes your cheek in such a gentle manner that you cannot help but give him a little smile of your own in return, “You were so good.”

“Thank you,” you say with a fluttering heart, mascara burning underneath your eyes.

“Let me get you a glass of water,” he pecks your lips a few times more but when he tries to pull away, you whine like a child not getting their way. He says your time but then lets you crawl to him. He hugs you close, draping your leg over his hip, and coos soft praises until you fall asleep.

“I have work in the morning,” he mumbles into your hair, but then why does he still let you sleep in his arms all through the night?

You wake up to aspirin and water. You take it and gulp down the whole glass, only briefly waking up again when he crawls into bed with you late in the evening to hold you close once more.

“I’ll order some food,” he tells you while repeatedly kissing your still bare body.

“Okay,” you say and fall asleep again.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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loveinhawkins · 5 months

Note

Ficlet prompt: Lighter

Truly will enjoy whatever that might inspire for you, but I do especially love all your steddie work that takes place between scenes of s4!

thank you for the perfect excuse to think about another before the battle scene. (also i hope i’m recognising your username correctly & if so i love your video analyses 💕) •one word ficlet prompts

Eddie throws the lighter with no warning. It soars in an arc across the field, a glint of silver in the sun, and Steve catches it with one hand, of course he does. Eddie remembers the running joke in the true basketball glory days, Steve Harrington, an excellent catch: in every sense.

Eddie would always act like the whole thing annoyed him, but now, as he watches Steve grin smugly, he can only be fond.

“Figured you’d need it when you’re, uh, flambéing.”

Steve’s smile fades, just a little; Eddie wonders if the terror he’s feeling is obvious, even from a distance.

“Like, it’s my uncle’s, so be careful,” he adds, rambling. “I’ll want it back, man.”

Steve considers him. Pats a patch of grass, come here.

Eddie does.

He sits down as Steve flicks the lighter a couple of times, the flame winking in and out of existence. It’s a soothing sight, almost makes him forget that they’ve spent most of the day fashioning weapons—like so long as Steve’s got a light in his hand, things are gonna be all right.

It’s a child’s logic. Eddie can’t help it; he never could.

There’s a soft click as Steve shuts the lighter. He puts it in his jacket pocket with unnecessary care. A gentleness.

Eddie knows he’ll keep it safe.

And then Steve’s twisting round to reach another pocket, brings out another glint of silver.

He flicks it up in the air, catches it before dropping it into Eddie’s palm.

“This is my lucky quarter,” Steve says with uncharacteristic solemnity, but his lips are quirking in amusement and—

“You’re so full of shit,” Eddie says through a laugh, “you literally just bought that jacket.”

His fingers curl over the coin anyway. He feels the warmth leftover from Steve’s touch. Wonders if Steve felt something similar with the lighter—if he can lend their improvised charms some power through sheer force of will.

He slips the coin into his pocket.

“I’ll kinda want it back,” Steve says pointedly.

Eddie smiles. “I’ll take care of it,” he says.

He doesn’t want to sound afraid, but he can’t promise anything. Can only think of Steve carrying the lighter and hope that it holds: an amulet, guiding him home.

#pre steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie

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bonniepop · 6 months

Text

title: of rumors & wrong assumptions parts: 1 / 2 / 3 character: iwaizumi hajime words: 1,200+ warnings: violence towards oikawa's person. experiments in chem lab. notes: i think this is one of my funnier fics so of course i had to bring this back! (also i am not compensating for forgetting about this website at all!)

—

life would’ve been so much easier if you’d ended up having a crush on literally anyone else instead, but noooo. you had to go and have a crush on oikawa's best friend.

oikawa's probably gay best friend.

“i’m telling you—iwa-chan is not gay,” oikawa insists with a hushed voice, leaning over the beaker he poured water into earlier, his face so near the bunsen burner it was giving you anxiety.

“what the fuck, oikawa,” you nearly cry, shoving his face away from the open flame. “get your face out of there!”

your palm presses over the goggles on his face and he yelps. “ow!” he pouts and pulls away his standard chem lab goggles, running his hand through the red marks pressed against his skin. “that hurt!”

“would you rather i let your face burn off in case it exploded?” you shoot back, grabbing a pen and writing down your observations. “also can you get back to work? this is a partner lab report.”

“that’s just water,” he snaps.

"there's an open flame!" you practically shriek, but he ignores you.

"—and i’ll read your notes later.” he says the last part dismissively, and you had to stop yourself from launching your pen at his face—like a gladiator spear through one of his eyeballs.

life would've been so much easier if you'd fallen for literally anyone else, because their best friend probably wouldn't be an insufferably annoying volleyball captain that you'd ended up being partnered with.

at first, it made you giddy. this was your chance—be friend the volleyball captain, make friends with iwaizumi, flirt, fall in love, and live happily ever after.

okay, you're thinking too far ahead. but it was a great setup. until oikawa'd said, "i need to talk to you about something," with that something being... righting... his best friend's reputation.

is there any possible way to get run over by a truck? while inside a laboratory on the third floor of a building?

“anyway, he’s not gay,” oikawa brings up again, louder than the last time, and you sink down against the table and groan.

you can feel your table mates look back at you suspiciously, and you pray to every deity out there. someone, anyone. just open up the earth and swallow me whole.

“oikawa,” you bark, peering over your shared equipment with sharp eyes. “can we not talk about this here?”

he shakes his head quite vigorously. “no! we need to discuss this. because you are wrong, and i am here to tell you that you are wrong.”

your face wrinkles into a scowl. “i really don’t wanna talk about this,” you grumble, looking away.

you don’t even know how he knows. as far as you remember, it was a speculation you’d mentioned to your group of friends in jest, and two days later, oikawa—who had sweet talked your previous lab partner into switching out, apparently; if you think about it, this was all her fault for agreeing—started pestering you about it.

“add the iodine and stir,” your teacher says, and dutifully, you grab the smaller beaker and add the brown liquid, noting the color change when you stir.

“seriously!” oikawa insists, “he’s not. believe me.”

“wh—” you point your pen at him and glare. “you know what, i will remove your name from this lab report if you don’t work on anything in the next—”

you watch him grab his pen and, without looking, scribble quickly on his notebook. “there, done.”

your jaw unhinges, unreasonable, murderous irritation flooding your entire body. “you didn’t even—”

“now get your second beaker,” your teacher instructs, and you use it as a distraction to stop yourself from lunging at your lab partner. “add the remaining water, hydrogen peroxide and fabric starch.”

you take a deep breath and reach for the materials—which were near oikawa’s elbow. when your reach comes up short, you glare at him. “maybe you’d like to help me?”

“oh, sure,” oikawa goes, plucking the materials and placing them on the center of the table. “there you go.”

you count to ten in an attempt to prevent yourself from hurling the second beaker at his head, opting to focus on the experiment instead.

“anyway, i—”

you nearly slam your hands on the table. “look, oikawa,” you tell him, leaning closer. “i don’t know how you found out about that, but it was meant as a joke. i didn’t mean it, and whoever told you that? give me their name. give me their name, so i can find them, break their phone, and burn their house down. end of story.”

he blinks. “so you don’t think he’s gay?”

you lean back. “if he is, it’s none of my business.”

“but he’s not,” oikawa whines. “what made you think that in the first place?”

you give him a bewildered stare. “what? why wouldn’t i think it? he’s obviously in love with you.”

his face morphs into one of complete and utter shock, and then he booms into laughter, which makes the class turn towards your seat at the very back. he sheepishly quiets down at the call of his name, your teacher evidently not as amused as he is at his new discovery.

“he’s not in love with me,” oikawa denies at a much softer, but not any less irritating, volume.

you ignore him. “he’s so scary but he turns sweet around you—”

“sweet? sweet?” he’s wide-eyed and appalled. he aggressively points to the back of his head. “is throwing volleyballs at my head sweet?"

you defend, “i don’t know what you’re into—"

"do you know how many almost-concussions i've had because of him?! i'm basically a fall risk at this point!”

“now, transfer everything in beaker 1 to beaker 2,” your teacher calls, interrupting your argument. “note the time.”

he stares and shakes his head. “anyway. well, that’s not the case. at all,” he declares, leaning forward to continue the rest of the experiment. “we’re just friends. you note the time.”

“sure,” you say, signaling for him to go once you track the seconds on your watch. you scribble in your notes when the liquid changes color.

the bell rings, and students are shuffling to dump their liquids in the giant erlenmeyer flask at the back of the room.

your former lab partner smiles at you as you both dump your waste liquid. “seems like you and oikawa had a lot of fun,” she chirps.

not at all. “he’s okay,” you say before you part ways. when you get back to your desk, she notes that oikawa is waiting for you and that you walk out of lab together, bickering.

while the rest of the day went ahead as normal, for the next day at school, you were not granted that same luxury.

“hey,” one of your friends asks over lunch, “are you and oikawa dating?”

your fist clenches in surprise, and the juice sent ricocheting through the straw and into your throat makes you choke. “what?” you ask, coughing, and wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. “where'd you get that?”

the rest of your friends meet gazes. “we heard you were really close in lab yesterday,” one of the girls says.

“yeah, like an old married couple,” another says.

your brain is going into overdrive. what? said who? “we are absolutely n—”

someone calls from outside your classroom. someone with very familiar and annoying voice, someone who you've, quite frankly, had enough of.

you look up to see oikawa, waving merrily at you. behind him, iwaizumi’s stony face is dark and threatening.

the girls around you giggle, and you flush, hunching over at your desk in an attempt to hide.

this cannot be happening, you think despairingly. not only was your crush probably gay, he also thinks you’re dating his best friend.

the best friend he was probably in love with.

“fuck me,” you groan into the wood grain of your desk. "fuck me so very much."

#iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #x reader #x reader fluff #📝 — my writing #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader fluff

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year

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Pairing : Seo Changbin x F!Reader TW : reader suffers from migraines ; arguments ; i'm gonna make this one absolutely vicious, i love writing arguments ; angst of course as usual ; Word Count : 2.6k Request : @kurolils : I'll try not to give a lot of details cause it's your story not mine but I was thinking of something angsty (ofc wtf) with changbin (ofc wtf) , like the reader and him got into a really bad argument (you can decide the plot of that) and she has really bad migraines (I'm relating here) so when they're mad at each other, she doesn't want to be pushy pr clingy so she doesn't say anything to him but when the migraine gets like really bad, she calls him :) AN : migraines are so fricking bad and I hope yours don't affect you too badly :'( BUT! It definitely isn't abusive to send in another request, send in all the requests you want!!! I love it! I love your ideas! And Binnie definitely needs more attention in my ask box (and in my masterlist)!

Here comes another one, you thought to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to mentally ward off the sudden throbbing in your head, pinging right behind your eye. Just one more hour until you could get off work and go home, and then you’d see your boyfriend who always managed to make you feel better… Although you weren’t sure if the migraine actually went away or if his presence alone was enough to have you forgetting that it was there in the first place.

“Is it bothering you again?” Your coworker asked, leaning across the counter that you had been slouched over, trying to block out anything that would only add to the pain in your head. You simply grunted in agreement, not daring to lift your head, worried that the bright fluorescent lights would only trigger the migraine to start full force once again. “It’s dead here today, you can go home if you want. I’m sure the last thing you want to deal with are customers.”

He was right, the store was always dead at the beginning of the week, and you hated being scheduled those days. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?” You asked, your head still buried in your arms. He hummed softly in agreement, gently patting your shoulder before making his way around to the back of the counter to take your spot. “Thanks… I’ll cover one of your shifts if you ever need me to.” You said as quietly as possible, worried that your own voice meeting your ears would only worsen the throbbing in your head.

“Don’t worry about that, just text me when you get home so I know you made it there okay.” And you nodded to his words, pulling your sunglasses out of your bag and placing them on before walking out of the store. He was always so nice, he looked out for you, and in a way, he reminded you a lot of your boyfriend, that’s why it was so easy to get so close to him. You’d have to remember to thank him when you got home, but all that was on your mind right now was the pleasant thought of going home, closing all the blinds, and waiting that extra hour for Changbin to get home so you could cuddle up next to him.

You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep on the couch, but you were actually quite happy that you did. By the time Changbin walked through the front door and your eyes slowly opened, it felt like you were in the clear, the banging pain in your head had all but completely subsided. “You’re home early.” Changbin commented, noticing that all the windows had been practically blacked out by the shutters and the shades, he knew what it meant, and he kept his voice as low as possible as he kicked off his shoes and walked over to the couch where you were laying. “Did it get bad again?”

Slowly nodding your head, you pushed yourself up into a sitting position and stretched, ready to make room for Changbin to scoot in beside you. “Jaemin saw that I was hurting and he said I could go home… Oh… Shit, I have to text him to thank him.” You muttered, pulling your phone out and unlocking it, so focused on sending out the text that you didn’t even hear Changbins sigh of annoyance. “Did you want to order something to eat and watch a movie or something?” You asked after sending out the text, placing your phone down on the coffee table and scooting over.

“Why don’t you just ask Jaemin to come over and watch the movie with you.” Changbin mumbled, eyeing the spot that you made beside yourself for him to sit in before dropping down into the recliner behind him. “He can even take you out to a fancy dinner or something.” The thumping in your head was slowly returning, accompanied by the pounding of your heart that you could hear in your ears, although you weren’t sure if it was racing because you were upset or because you were angry.

Changbin had never made such accusations before, and while he hadn’t flat out accused you of such a thing, you could read into his words and his tone and you knew exactly what he meant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just being ridiculous.” You muttered, deciding to stretch out on the couch once more since he was being that way. “Do you want to order dinner or not?” You asked, not even bothering to open your eyes as you asked the question.

“I don’t know, maybe we should ask Jaemin what he wants just in case he comes over to check on you.” Changbin snidely retorted and your eyes rolled behind your eyelids as you let out a small huff of air through your nose. “Or maybe… maybe I should just go back to the dorms and you and Jaemin can enjoy a nice little dinner in my house watching my TV.” He sounded so cocky and truthfully it was disgusting, and it made your head hurt worse.

“I’d argue with you, I’d give you that satisfaction if my head wasn’t already pounding… But you knew that when you came in and you continue to bicker. So maybe you should leave, or maybe I should leave. Clearly you’ve got some shit going on, and truthfully, I can’t fucking handle it right now.” You snapped, taking a deep breath and sinking deeper into the cushions of the sofa, waiting to hear the sound of the recliner moving back into place when Changbin got up, but it was silent. Was he just going to sit there and continue the foolish argument until your head felt like it was going to explode?

The short answer… Yes. Yes he would. “If I leave you’ll just have him come over… And if you leave, you’ll just run to him. Either way you and him are getting exactly what you want, right? Why string me along if he’s so much better? Huh?” You honestly didn’t know where this was coming from, but the more he assumed, the angrier you got.

“You know what? It’s fucking bullshit that you come in here, pretending to give a shit about me, saying shit like… like people at my work should be more understanding of what I go through… And then when there’s one fucking employee who does notice, who does understand, you jump to these batshit insane conclusions that couldn’t be further from the truth. Nothing will make you happy! My head hurts enough already, and then trying to think of ways to fucking please you only makes it hurt worse. So if you’re going to just keep coming at me, I’d rather you not… Or at least wait until I can take another ibuprofen and my headache clears up enough to handle more of your bullshit.” You snapped, your voice cracking as your throat closed up. You were on the verge of tears, although it wasn’t from being upset, it was from being angry and in pain and you just wanted to sleep it all away.

“You know what, I’ll just go.” Changbins hands flew up in the air before slapping down against his lap as he pushed himself up to his feet. “Make sure Jaemin takes his shoes off before he walks on my carpet though.” He always had to have that last word, the last jab of the knife. If you had the energy, you would have flipped him off, but you were just exhausted. You didn’t have the energy to fight, you didn’t even want to fight, he had started it. It wasn’t until you heard the front door slam shut that you finally let yourself cry, but even that was tiresome, and you ended up just crying yourself to sleep.

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed, but you were happy to see that the sun had finally set, unless it was in the wee hours of the morning and it was just about to rise. That happiness quickly died when you remembered what had happened right before you fell asleep, the sudden lonely feeling and the feeling of emptiness shrouding you like a cloak as you looked around the empty apartment.

At the moment, it didn’t matter though. You knew that he was okay, he was probably at the dorms with the guys having a great time to get his mind off of what he thought was going on. Meanwhile, you still hadn’t eaten and your stomach was now growling at you to feed it. You could get through the rest of the night without him, maybe it was for the best if you both had some distance from each other as much as you hated it.

You thought you’d be okay, you were okay, you had made it to the kitchen, you had gotten the food out of the fridge, you had managed to even start preparing it, but then, as if from out of the dark, it kicked in again. This time it was worse, or maybe it just felt worse because everything else that was going on. It truly felt like your head had been slammed into a brick wall and your vision became blurry and you felt sick and everything was just awful and you couldn’t help but cry as you dropped down to the kitchen floor, your knees curling against your chest, your hand fumbling for your phone in your pocket as you called the only person you knew could help.

“Look, I said that I’d leave. You said you wanted space. I don’t want to argue, I think we should just talk about this-”

“B-Binnie…” You whimpered, sniffling loudly as your body trembled, trying not to throw up, trying so hard to not focus on the pain, but trying not to focus only made it hurt worse. His end was quiet though, aside from the distant murmuring of some of the guys, although you couldn’t make it out, especially considering you were breathing so heavily from crying, the only thing you could really hear was your own whimpers and sobs. “Please come home…”

The sound of a car door, and then the revving of an engine. “I’m coming, sweetheart, just stay where you’re at. Where are you right now? What were you doing?” It was the Binnie that you knew and loved speaking right now, but it was so different from the Changbin that had sat across from you in the living room just a little while ago. Right now you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, you simply needed him there with you, his voice soft and sweet as he talked you through the pain.

“Kitchen… I… I was hungry…” You stammered, and then you hiccuped, the sudden jolt seemingly shifting your stomach and causing you to retch. “S-Sorry…” You whispered, and you heard Changbin sigh softly, although you weren’t sure if it sounded that way because he pulled his phone away or if he was just trying to be quiet because he knew what was going on.

“I’ll be home shortly, and then I’ll order us something to eat. You remember what we talked about the last time this happened and I wasn’t there? You remember what I told you to do?” He was trying his best to keep your mind off of the ache, and it was working in a way, your mind now trying to clear the fog to think about what you’d do if this happened while he was on tour. He’d sit on the phone with you for hours, and if he was in the middle of a show while it happened, he had set up his voicemail just for you so you could listen to his voice to help you a little bit until he could call you back. “Just listen to me talk and…-”

“And take deep breaths…” You sputtered out, your breaths coming a little bit too quickly right now which wasn’t helping in the nausea department. “Count to ten…” You continued, squeezing your eyes shut as tightly as you could as you tried to visualize the numbers popping up in your head while listening to him talk. He wasn’t really talking about anything in particular, his voice was just something for you to focus on, something to calm you in a way.

It wasn’t long… or maybe it was… until Changbin came walking through the front door. The entire apartment was pitch black, but he knew that flicking on any lights would only make things worse, so he used his phone screen to shine a light across the floor until he made it to the kitchen where you were still sitting curled up against the cabinets. “Did you take your medicine today?” He asked as he squatted down on the floor next to you, his hand wiping the beads of sweat from your forehead that you didn’t even notice had built up.

Your medicine, which you often forgot to take, especially when you were in a hurry, had just now crossed your mind now that Changbin had brought it up. “No…” You mumbled sheepishly, and he tsked his tongue, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it right now. Instead, he helped you to your feet, but once you were on them, he gently lifted you up, carrying you to the bedroom and then carefully laying you down.

“I don’t want you to take it now… You have to take it in the morning…” He whispered, and although the room was dark, you could tell he wasn’t looking at you because you couldn’t see the moon reflected in the whites of his eyes. “I’m sorry… For the way I acted. It was uncalled for, and I got jealous… Stupidly jealous. I just… I don’t like the idea of another guy taking care of you. It kind of pisses me off…”

“Kind of?” You questioned, and you would have laughed if the situation didn’t feel so serious. “You walked out on me… That hurt, Binnie…” You softly explained as shortly as possible. “I’d like to think that I make it perfectly clear that I love you… Only you… You’re the only person I want to take care of me…” You reached out in the darkness, your hand brushing along his back where you could feel the outline of his muscles that you mapped with your fingertips.

“You do… You do.” He repeated himself, running his hands over his face, and you felt him shiver slightly from your touch. “I know you love me… I know you feel that way… I just… I want to be the only person that takes care of you, the only person who looks out for you. Sometimes I feel like… Like since I’m gone so much… You’ll find someone else to take care of you like I should.”

“Bin…” You sighed out his name, pushing yourself up onto your knees and draping your arms over his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck and placing light kisses against his skin. “I don’t want anyone else to take care of me… You’re the only person that can calm me, that can soothe me. You’re the only one that can ever make me feel better. I don’t want anyone but you.” His silence let you know that he was thinking, and you didn’t want him thinking anything bad, so you pulled him to lay down, laying on top of him to trap him-although you knew he could move you if he wanted to-and pulling the blanket up around the both of you.

“I’ll do better… I’ll be better…” He whispered, his fingers dancing along the small of your back. “I’m sorry I upset you… I’m so sorry, sweetheart…” He apologized again, placing a kiss to the top of your head before settling into his pillow again. “I’m not leaving again, I’ll stay right here with you, forever and ever.”

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ythankucaptainmccoy · 2 months

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The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch3

Next chapter lets go!!! Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. @smoothdogsgirl

As soon as you see the photo and the caption you take off for your truck. Looking up the nearest police station you take off. The police officer takes your concern seriously after you explain about your ex. He makes a call to the local police in your brother's town to inform them, and in return they say they will make several rounds during the next couple of weeks. When you leave the police station you call your brother's number.

No surprise he doesn’t answer, but you leave a message letting him know what's happening. When you get back to the apartment Bradley is sitting on the couch watching a movie. “Hey, Mav and Penny are going to have a cookout tomorrow afternoon at five if you want to go”, he tells you. “Sounds like fun, what's the address?”, you ask. You look in the fridge and look for something to make for dinner as he tells you and you write it down.

You end up making steak with green beans and mashed potatoes. When you start making a third plate Bradley looks at you with a raised brow. “I owe Jake for lending me the eggs that I made our breakfast with the other day”, you respond. You walk to Jake's apartment and knock hoping he hasn’t made dinner for himself yet. It takes a few moments, but he answers with a grin on his face. “Back to say yes to that date we bet on”, he jokes. “If you were as good at pool as you are at running your mouth we already would have had that date”, you giggle.

His smile only widens when he sees the plate in your hands. “I made extra to thank you for letting me borrow the eggs the other day”, you say. “You didn’t have to do that”, he tells you, scratching the back of his neck. “The least I could do. I have my own plate to get back to and before I forget Mav and Penny are having a cookout tomorrow afternoon at five if you want to come”, you explain.

“I’m not really a big cookout guy and the squad didn’t really invite me”, he sighs. “Well I’m part of the squad now and I invited you so if you want to you can. If you let me see your phone I’ll put the address in”, you explain. He hands over his phone and you add your number plus the address in a memo then hand it back to him. “You also now have my number if you ever need it”, you tell him. He smiles again as you hand him the plate and tell him goodnight.

Once you eat dinner you start doing the dishes to which Bradley thanks you. Your phone alerts with a message, but you want to finish the dishes. Once finished with the dishes you make your way to the bathroom to take a shower. You open your phone as you walk and an unknown number pops up sending a little panic through you until you open it. It reads ‘Hey it's Jake. That was one of the best home cooked meals I have ever had. I’ll wash the plate and bring it back when I can. Night’. You respond with ‘Thanks. Hope you have a great night and maybe see you tomorrow’.

You quickly save his number and take your shower. The hot water is relaxing as the day's events play over in your mind. The way Jake had looked like you hung the moon and stars when you had defended him against that waitress. Just remembering her made you angry and the feeling to defend him from everything else seemed to get stronger. You then realized that Jake had said the squad hadn’t invited him and that made you frown as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair.

When you got finished in the shower you made up your mind to include Jake more often when the squad was invited to things. When you climbed into bed you wondered to yourself if you should give Jake a chance at taking you on a date. Bradley didn’t think it was a good idea and the others in the dagger squad seemed to tolerate him for the most part. You went to bed that night thinking about him.

Screaming is what woke you up and you didn’t understand where it was coming from until Bradley came rushing into your room. It had been coming from you and Bradley looked horrified as he checked you over. When he realized you were okay he pulled you into a hug until there was loud banging on the apartment door. Great you thought as tears streamed down your face someone probably called the police.

Bradley went to answer the door as you pulled your blanket around you. You decided to go see if it was the police when you heard arguing. When you came into view of the door Jake was standing there in boxers and nothing else. “”(Y/N) are you alright?”, he asked. “Yeah I’m sorry I woke you both I had a bad dream and didn’t realize I was screaming”, you whispered. You were ashamed of yourself. You were a grown adult screaming over a bad dream.

“It’s alright (Y/N) I just wanted to make sure no one was hurting you”, Jake said. Bradley eyed him but didn’t say anything. When Jake did a once over of you he said goodnight and went back to his apartment. You apologized profusely to Bradley as he went and made you some tea. He kept telling you that it was fine, but it wasn’t, it was your fault that you woke him and Jake up. Bradley saying something about having the day off and that it was nothing and to drink the tea he made wasn’t helping.

He watched as you drank your tea and then asked if you were okay. You told him you were and that he could go back to sleep. He seemed a little hesitant, but went back to his room, closing the door. The clock read 4:30AM and you knew there was no way you were going to be able to sleep after that nightmare. You turned on the tv and lowered the volume and watched tv until you decided to make breakfast.

Bradley woke up right after you had finished breakfast at seven. You had to admit the Navy had changed him a little because back in college you had to drag him out of bed. “Did you go back to sleep?”, he asked. “Yeah I just got up about thirty minutes ago”, you lied. He looked at you hard but didn’t say anything else as he made a plate for himself. The day was just getting started and you knew that it was going to be hard staying awake.

You made some coffee and chugged it when Bradley went to the bathroom. You poured another glass before he made it back to seem like you hadn’t had any at all. Before Bradley could ask any other questions you interjected, “I invited Jake to the cookout”. “Why the hell would you do that?”, he questioned. “Because I don’t think he is as bad as you say”, you replied. He shook his head as you snapped your gaze to him. “Look I know he is cocky and that he can get under your all’s skin, but have you ever thought maybe he does that to distance himself”, you angrily say.

“What are you talking about?”, Bradley sighed. “You guys fly together and at any point one of you could die. Do you ever think that he distances himself with his cocky attitude and harsh words so that way when he burns in you all can carry on without him, or think of it the other way around”, you theorize. Bradley stays still and doesn’t say anything mulling over your words. “Nevermind, I’m going for a walk on the beach I’ll be back”, you tell him.

You go to your room and get changed into shorts and a tank top then make your way down to the beach. The sand is still cool from the night and the water is a beautiful blue today. In the distance you can see people walking the beach and then you spot a familiar person. Jake is running the beach like he did the other morning. You watch as he gets closer seeming to slow down, but you shake your head and wave him on to continue his run.

He nods as he passes you and you can’t help but turn around and watch him for a moment. The way his back muscles and legs flex with each stride is almost perfect. For a moment you wonder why he seems to like you. There's nothing special about a southern girl such as yourself. You turn and continue to walk for what feels like miles when someone comes up beside you.

“Hi Jake”, you greet. “How’d you know it was me?”, he questions. “Well it was either you or Roo”, you reply smiling up at him. “Look I’m sorry about earlier this morning”, you say lowering your head to look at your feet. Jake stops causing you to stop as he puts his fingers under your chin to make you look at him. “It’s alright I just wanted to make sure no one had broken into the apartment or anything like that”, he stated.

You stare into his gorgeous green eyes that have little flecks of what looks like gold. He is getting closer and holy shit you're letting him. Jake is taking a chance he knows it, but you haven’t pushed him away yet. He is inches away from your lips when he notices you stare off at something behind him. When he turns and looks he understands what has captured your attention. There is a little girl, maybe four or five that has tears streaming down her face.

You don’t hesitate another second as you approach the little girl. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”, you ask, kneeling down in front of her. “I’m..lo..lost”, she hiccups. “Okay, don’t worry. Who did you come to the beach with?”, you continued questioning. “My..my grandma”, she sniffles. “Well, tell you what, me and my friend here can help you find your grandma. I’m (Y/N) and this is Jake. He is a navy pilot and he flies jets. I bet with his eyesight we can find your grandma”, you state.

Jake salutes as the girl seems to marvel at him. “My daddy was a flier”, she perks up. “Really”, Jake says as he also kneels down. “Yeah I don’t get to see him anymore. Grandma says he flies in heaven now”, she says pointing at the sky. Jake can tell you're trying not to cry and holds out his hand to the little girl. “Come on, our mission is to find your grandma”, Jake announces. She takes his hand then grabs your hand. You smile at Jake as the three of you walk down the beach searching for the little girl's grandma. “Can you swing me?”, she asks. Jake looks to you to make sure you're both on the same page as you pull her up and swing her forward. Her giggles are contagious and soon you're laughing right along with her.

About a mile down the beach Jake spots an elderly woman looking all around and yelling. “I think I found your grandma”, Jake says. The little girl is smiling so wide that you're sure her face must hurt. When you get close enough the grandma spots the three of you and comes over as quickly as she can. “She was lost and we decided to help her find you” you explain. “Thank you so much. I was unloading the car and she must have ran off”, she says.

“It’s no problem ma’am”, Jake responds. “Grandma this is (Y/N) and Jake. Jake is a flier like my daddy was”, she excitedly tells her. “Is that right? Well what do you tell them for bringing you back to me?”, she asks. “Oh! Thank you” the little girl exclaims. “Your welcome”, you and Jake say in unison. “You and your husband have my deepest gratitude”, she tells you. Jake goes to correct her, but you pinch him on the arm hard as they walk away. “Ow what was that for?”, he hisses.

“You respect your elders and I wasn’t about to let you correct that poor old lady after what she has been through today”, you playfully snark. “Come on husband, we should probably head back”, you laugh. Jake stands there almost in a trance for a moment as images flash through his head of you being all his and he smiles. You look at him confused then pick up a pebble and launch it at him to get his attention.

“Oh now you’ve done it”, he says. You yell out when he starts running at you and take off down the beach with him behind you. You run straight for the water when he catches you and scoops you up to put you over his shoulder. You start laughing even harder when he wades out into water until he is up to his hips in the surf. “I think this will be the best punishment”, he says. You squeal as he tosses you into the water.

When you surface he is laughing hard so you take your revenge and hook your leg under one of his. Under he goes and when he comes back up you take in his fake angry face as he starts to crack into a grin. He helps you back up to the beach as you turn to ask him a question you trip and fall hard. Reaching out you grab hold of his wrist and down he comes catching himself before he lands on you. You both laugh but the moment gets serious when he gets a serious look on his face.

“Go out with me”, he says. “What?”, you ask. “You heard me. One date and if it doesn’t work no harm no foul”, he whispers. You think about it as the waves lap around your body. “Fine one date. Saturday after I close up the Hard Deck”, you say. “Deal”, he replies. He leans down to kiss you and you stay there frozen, but just as he is about to kiss you a wave crashes over both of you. Jake pulls you up and you laugh at his thwarted second attempt.

You both make it back to the apartments and by the time you get inside Bradley is gone. You shoot him a quick text asking if he would be coming back or if you would need to drive to the cookout later. He texts back saying he wouldn’t be back in time to pick you up. You go take a shower and get all the salt water off of yourself then clean a little around the apartment. You keep busy until it’s time to leave. You start to go towards the stairs when you realize Jake’s truck is still in the parking lot.

You march straight to his door and knock on it waiting for him to open the door. When he opens it he isn’t ready at all, shorts, tank top, messy hair meaning he wasn’t planning on going to the cookout. “Why aren’t you dressed”, you say. “I wasn’t going to go”, he replies. “You’re going”, you say, pushing your way into his apartment. “Well come on in then”, he huffs. “Get dressed, what are you waiting for”, you say, crossing your arms and tapping your foot. Facial expression, one of annoyance that he won’t admit looks just as hot on you as a smile.

“Fine”, he relents. He disappears into his room for a couple minutes and then he goes into the bathroom. When he comes back out he is dressed and his hair looks great. His cologne smells delicious as he passes you to grab his keys. “Give a girl a ride”, you flirt pouting your lips. “Sure”, he says, holding the door open for you. As you walk past him you can tell he is watching your ass. “Are you gonna continue to stare or are you comin?”, you taunt.

“Yes ma’am”, he drawls. You laugh as you both make your way to the truck after he locks up his apartment. When he unlocks the truck you both hop in and put the address in the truck's navigation system. The closer you both get to the cookout the more nervous Jake seems to get. One hand is gripping the arm rest like a lifeline so you grab his hand and thread your fingers through his. “It’s alright Jake it's the daggers and if any of ‘em have a problem with you being there I’ll give' em what for”, you soothe.

He smiles at you and continues to drive, every once in a while squeezing your hand. When you both arrive Jake stands in the driveway like a statue so you grab his hand and start walking to where you can hear the others. When you come into the back yard with Jake in tow it quiets down a little. “Hey Jake glad you could make it”, Penny says. “Thanks for having me”, he replies. “Glad you could make it bagman. Hope you can play horseshoes better than Rooster”, she greets.

The squad greet you both as you make your way over to the horseshoes where Rooster is talking with a woman. No, not talking. Flirting with a woman and you can already tell he is trying to get lucky tonight. If he is successful you hope she takes him home and not the other way around. Jake seems to relax the more the squad accepts him into the party. Before you know it he is relaxed and talking with his squad.

“I have never seen him like this”, Nat says. “What do you mean?”, you question. “Well he is usually overly cocky, rude and obnoxious, but when you're around, I don’t know, he seems to behave himself. Maybe Rooster is wrong. Maybe you're a good thing for Hangman”, Nat explains. “Maybe because no one has given him a chance to prove that he is more than a pilot”, you reply. Nat hums in agreement as you both continue to chat about things going on in your lives.

Once Mav announces that the food is ready everybody lines up to get a plate of food. There are multiple tables placed together to make one big table as everybody sits down. Jake pulls out your chair for you as you thank him, and when you look up all eyes are on you and Jake. “I didn’t know you had manners Hangman”, Rooster jabs. “Well there’s a lot you don’t know about me Rooster”, Jake replies.

You give Bradley a death glare from across the table and he goes back to talking with the woman from before. The dinner goes well and everybody is having a good time as Maverick tells some of his stories and Penny chiming in every now and then. You have to admit Penny and Pete look cute together and you wonder if you could ever have that type of normalcy. In fact you don’t know what came over you when you said yes to a date with Jake.

You always managed to screw things up. That’s why you hadn’t dated since your ex. You were tensing and you didn’t realize it until a hand grabbed your knee. You looked up to see Jake wearing a concerned expression. “Are you alright darlin’?”, he asked. You nodded and gave a weak smile as some of the others talked. It grew dark and the little faerie lights around the yard made the yard look cute. As everyone seemed to wind down and get ready to leave you noticed Bradley and the woman he had been talking to were gone.

You were starting to get tired as the day and super early morning caught up with you. You yawned and Jake noticed right away. “Thanks for letting me come out, but I think this little lady is getting tired”, he told Penny and Pete. “No it’s fine you can hang out with your friends a little longer”, you said. “It’s alright I won’t make you stay up any more than you already have”, he replied. You both said your goodbyes and made your way to his truck where he opened the door and you climbed inside.

“I have to admit he is sweet on her”, Penny said. “Yeah I just hope he doesn’t break her heart or Rooster will be ready to kill him”, Pete uttered. The truck was so comfortable and you must have been extremely tired because the next thing you knew Jake was gently shaking you awake. “Darlin we’re home”, he told you. It took you a moment to rub the sleep from your eyes and get out of the truck. “Thanks for the ride cowboy”, you yawned. “Anytime sweetheart”, he whispered.

You made your way to the apartment as Jake went to his. As soon as you stepped in the apartment you knew Bradley had company. You shot back outside so quickly that you almost tripped over the threshold of the door. You looked around trying to think of what to do when you saw your truck sitting there. You could sleep in your truck. It wasn't the first time you had to do it, but you didn’t have a blanket.

“Fuck it”, you breathed. You walked to Jake’s door and knocked, waiting a couple minutes before the door opened. “What’s the matter darlin’ couldn’t stay away”, he chuckled. “No Bradley brought that woman back home, and I am not listening to that. I was wondering if I could borrow a blanket?”, you questioned. “Okay where were you going to sleep?”, he inquired. “Well I was just gonna’ sleep in the truck”, you replied. “Hell no you’re not sleeping in your truck. That’s dangerous and I will not let a woman sleep in her truck because her apartment buddy is inconsiderate”, he said. You went to protest, but he shut you down and you relented. “Shit I didn’t grab my sleep clothes”, you cursed.

“Follow me”, he said. You followed him to his bedroom where he pulled open a dresser drawer and handed you one of his T-shirts that smelled like him. Then he went into another drawer to get you a pair of shorts. He left to let you get changed and when you had changed you exited the bedroom to find him and thank him. He was in the living room on the couch watching highlights of a sports game.

Jake looked at you when you rounded the couch and damn if he didn’t think you looked sexy in his clothes. “Thanks for letting me borrow these, can I sit down?”, you asked. “Sure”, he replied. You sat down and watched the highlights for a little while until Jake looked at you. “Do you want to watch something else? I have all the apps on this tv for streaming services”, he told you. “Do you have Twister?”, you asked. “Yeah I do”, he boasted.

He queued the movie, but he was too busy watching you as you slowly blinked and your eyelids get heavy. “Are you cold?”, he questioned. “A little”, you replied. “Well I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty warm”, he grinned. You gave him a lopsided grin and replied, “Does that line usually work?”. “I don’t know, never tried that line before”, he smiled. You seemed to contemplate for a moment before you cuddled up under his arm.

Half way through the movie you were passed out snoring softly. He smiled to himself and turned the tv off then carefully got up. Then he looked down the hall to his bedroom and made up his mind. He carefully picked you up. Carried you to the bedroom where he lay you down on the bed and covered you up. “Sleep tight darlin”, he whispered and before he even realized what he was doing he kissed your temple. He had to admit he was in deep for you, and had already made up his mind he wanted your first date to go well. He went back into the living room opting to sleep on the couch.

#top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin #dagger squad

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goldenseresinretriever · 2 months

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False Confidence: Chapter 9

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, brief mention of sex, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: a little something something going into the weekend 🩵

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

When you reach Javy’s apartment, he pulls into a spot right next to the sports car that you recognize from your first date. When he gets out, he doesn’t head for the door to the lobby, instead leading the way around the sports car to another vehicle. You frown in confusion as you look at what seems to be a game of “one of these things is not like the others.” The Prius parked on the other side of Javy’s sportscar looks old, almost as old as your car, but it’s definitely been a while since it’s seen any action. It’s clean as a whistle despite its age and looks ridiculous surrounded by Javy’s two other cars and the other various luxury vehicles that populate this garage. “Here she is,” Javy announces proudly as he runs an affectionate hand over the roof of the car.

“You’re kidding…” you can’t help yourself. “This is your car?” You ask, arching a skeptical eyebrow as you approach the car.

He chuckles, “She is indeed, though it’s been quite a while since she’s seen any real use. I drive her around every now and then to make sure she still runs, but as you can see, she’s had her day.”

“So why do you keep it?” You ask and he smiles ruefully.

“I could tell you it’s a reminder to never forget where I came from, but honestly? I can’t bear to give her up. My uncle got it for me when I moved to Arizona for college. My mom kept insisting that I wouldn’t need a car and that it was an unnecessary expense, but he wouldn’t listen. He told me he’d been saving money for years for it, and it was the last thing he ever gave me. He wanted to make sure that I’d have everything I needed to chase my dreams and never look back.” You surprise yourself when you reach out for his hand and slide your fingers into his. He gives you a soft smile in response. “I’ll grab you the keys and she’s all yours.” Your breath catches in your chest as you remember why you’re here in the first place and you shake your head.

“Javy I can’t, it clearly means a lot to you, I couldn’t drive her.” He chuckles and squeezes your hand gently.

“Yes, you can. I hate seeing her just sit here and not get used. I’d be honored to have you take care of her.” You purse your lips in a thin line as you consider Javy’s offer. “I’m not going to force you to take her, but then we’re getting back and the car and going to a dealership. As much as I’d love to drive you everywhere, unfortunately, my schedule doesn’t really allow for that.” Your cheeks heat at his words.

“Javy…” you whisper and he smiles.

“I mean it, Meep, I want you to have her. I know you’ll take good care of her. And I’ll add you to the insurance so you don’t have to worry about that.” You feel the emotions of the day catching up with you and tears well up in your eyes.

“Thank you, Javy. I mean it, thank you so much.” You hate the way your voice sounds like you’re blubbering but Javy just chuckles and pulls you into a hug.

“You’re welcome, Beautiful. That’s what friends are for.”

***

You’ve severely underestimated what it means to be friends with Javy Machado. Your phone buzzes for the seemingly thousandth time and Nat gives you a knowing look from where she’s sitting on a couch in the fitting room. “Starting to regret getting back with him yet?” She asks as you come over and open the message and you roll your eyes at the picture of Javy force-feeding Bradley a slice of pizza along with a message asking how things are going with you. Things are going well. You and Nat are finally going for the shopping date that Javy promised you. Zam wanted to come but she’s been particularly swamped this week. You’re extremely grateful to Nat for coming along and so far she’s been nothing but supportive as you pick out some new dresses. She doesn’t push you out of your comfort zone and has even managed to pull a few suggestions that suit your taste perfectly. The dresses are modest yet classy and you smile at your reflection in the full-length mirror as you consider how to reply to Javy’s text after sharing the image with Nat.

“You should send him a picture of that dress,” Nat suggests and you look from the mirror to her and she gives you a knowing smile. The dress is a simple yet elegant style that falls to your mid-calf made of gorgeous emerald velvet. The modest neckline and love sleeves make you feel comfortable and even pretty. You love the way the dressing room light reflects off the fabric as you swish the skirt idly. You glance back at the mirror and when you turn back to Nat she’s holding up your phone.

“Nat!” You exclaim as you realize she’s taking a photo. She grabs your wrist and drags you over to sit next to her on the couch as she sends the photos to Javy. You’d had a mind to complain about the lack of warning but when you see the photos, you’re grateful to Nat. The candid shots mean that you’re relaxed and natural-looking. The two of you watch as little hearts appear on each of the photos before Javy replies. You’re expecting all kinds of possible responses, but the message you get back in response is simple.

“Buy it.” Nat cackles as she hugs you and you feel your cheeks flush. Then your phone rings and Nat gives you a knowing look before she stands up and collects the dresses you’d placed in the no pile and walks out of the fitting room to give you some privacy as you answer the call. “Hey Beautiful,” Javy greets and you feel your cheeks heat.

“Hi Javy,” You whisper as you fiddle with the slippery fabric.

“I absolutely love that dress, Meep. It suits you perfectly.” You murmur your thanks, embarrassed at his straightforward compliments. “Do you like it?” He asks after a beat and you start, surprised that he’d ask that. Your eyes go again to the mirror and you feel the corners of your lips raise slowly.

“I do, I really do.” You admit and you can practically hear Javy’s smile.

“Perfect. Then make sure you get it. I think I have the perfect occasion for you to wear it to this weekend.”

“What kind of occasion?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together in worry. You and Javy haven’t gone on any dates since reinstating your fake relationship. You’d be attending the Dogfighters’ game tonight but other than that, Javy hasn’t mentioned any other plans.

“It’s a surprise, but I promise you’ll like it so don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Just show up looking beautiful as always.” You pout slightly at Javy’s insistence on giving you as little information as possible but the nagging voice in the back of your mind begs to you trust him. Javy wouldn’t pick something that would make you uncomfortable. He’s literally paying for today’s shopping trip to ensure that you don’t.

“Okay,” you acquiesce and you can hear the grin in his voice.

“Great, I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you tonight, okay?” You confirm that you’ll be at the game tonight before you hang up. Nat comes back in not long after that with a few more options and the two of you get to work.

***

“It’s really that simple?” You ask as you adjust the sleeves of the jersey that are currently falling past your hands. Josie nods as she looks you over.

“I mean you could do more, but it’s honestly more comfy to go simple.” That’s rich coming from her you think as you gape at the pointed heels of the knee-high boots she's wearing over her jeans. She’s dressed in a replica of Reuben’s jersey, opting for the men’s fit rather than the women’s style that would definitely hug her curves a lot better. In comparison, you’ve opted for your simple white sneakers along with jeans and Javy’s jersey. You’ve also opted for the men’s fit after Josie pointed out that though they won’t mention it, the boys much prefer their girls in the baggier men’s jerseys as opposed to the more fitted female styles. “It looks like you’re wearing their jerseys.” Josie had explained as you tried on the jersey for the first time. “And their dirty little minds love that.” You can’t help the way your cheeks heat as you examine your simple appearance in the mirror. Hopefully, Josie’s right, and Javy will appreciate it. “Don’t worry about the long sleeves,” she adds as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup. “The rink can sometimes feel a bit chilly and you’ll appreciate them.” You tug the ends of your sleeves over your hands experimentally and find that Josie’s probably going to be right.

When you reach the arena, things are already in full swing. You help Josie wrangle the kids and you make your way to the same set of seats you’d sat at last time. Traffic getting to the arena was slow-moving and warmups have already begun. As you help Josie get things situated the kids run up to the glass, eager to see their dad and you follow, scooping Skylar up into your arms so she can see the rink while Jamie slaps the glass to try and attract his father’s attention. You notice Mickey waving across the rink at the kids before he gets Reuben’s attention. Reuben skates over and waves to the kids who eagerly wave back. He carefully tosses a puck over the glass and Jamie catches it, cheering for his dad as you smile softly. You let Skylar down so she can bicker with Jamie over the puck and watch the warmups themselves, trying to remember what Nat taught you.

You’re so absorbed in your own thoughts that a bump on the glass makes you jump. You blink in surprise as you see Javy grinning at you from the other side of the glass. Your cheeks heat as he lays a gloved palm against the glass and you tentatively put your up to it. Javy’s grin widens as he thumps the glass three times and you follow his lead before he skates away, blowing you a kiss, and your heart stutters before you remember that you’re in public. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, of course, he’s being romantic.

You return to your seats and do your best to focus on the game. Nat’s lessons pay off and you’re able to follow the game better than last time. The boys are playing hard but the other team is keeping up. By the third period, you’re flinching less at the hits and grabbing Josie as the two of you watch the tied game with bated breath. Unfortunately, the other team finally pulls ahead with five minutes to go and you and Josie collapse back against your seat with exasperated groans. Next to you, Skylar is asleep on her brother who’s struggling to stay awake, but even the infectious energy of the crowd is enough to keep the exhausted kids from feeling the effects of the busy week. Your teeth have worried your bottom lip into a mess over the last two and a half periods and you’re hoping the Dogfighters can take it to overtime even if you can feel exhaustion pulling at your bones.

The timer drops lower and lower and while the Dogfighters are giving it their all, the other team isn't giving up any ground. Bob is working double time to stop shots and keep the score difference from widening but that’s left the two teams at a stalemate, struggling against the other as the clock runs out. Finally, the ref blows the whistle and you and Josie let out a collective groan. The win was hard fought, but you can’t help but wish the Dogfighters had been able to take it back. You help Josie carry the things you’d brought, leading a drowsy Jamie by the hand while Josie hoists a sleeping Skylar into her arms. You make your way to the private part of the arena, reserved for players and staff to wait for Reuben. A yawn escapes your mouth and Josie gives you a tired smile of her own. The two of you give up on standing after a few moments where you’re sure Jamie almost falls asleep standing up and all pile onto a bench in the hallway, leaning against each other and fighting sleep. You must doze off regardless because you’re roused by the sound of Reuben’s voice as he coaxes Josie awake next to you, a fond smile on his face. He’s wearing his arrival suit and he comes around to crouch in front of a sleeping Jamie and you help him wrap Jamie’s small arms around his neck and Reuben lifts his son into his arms. You stretch, your arm having fallen asleep with Jamie sleeping on it. Josie stands with a groan, still carrying Skylar, and follows Reuben down the hallway toward the parking lot after exchanging sleepy goodbyes with you. You readjust yourself with a yawn, letting your shoulders sink with exhaustion, fighting the urge to full-on lay down on the bench. Javy’s offered to drive you home in exchange for you coming to the game since it would be late and the Fitches would have to get the kids home. If Reuben’s done, Javy shouldn’t be far behind.

***

You stir, your cheek bumping into something solid and you wrinkle your nose, squirming as you try and get comfortable again. You can’t have shut your eyes for longer than a moment. You blink, trying to reorient yourself and you’re staring sideways at a pair of knees. You frown, brows furrowing as you roll over onto your back and find yourself staring at the ceiling. Well, the ceiling and Javy’s face as he peers down at you. “Hey Meep,” you watch a smile creep across his face as yours twists into a confused frown, “sleep well?” You sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you frown at Javy who’s looking down at you endearingly, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Wasn’t asleep, just resting my eyes,” you murmur sleepily and you’re too tired to glare when he chuckles. With great effort you manage to sit up, groaning as your heavy head protests. When you look up again, Javy’s back is facing you and your brows twist in confusion until his head turns to you and he jerks his chin awkwardly.

“Get on,” your brain is suddenly more awake. Your frown deepens and you shake your head as you slowly wrap your mind around what Javy’s proposing, your mind going back to Reuben and Jamie. “Meep get on, you’re exhausted so let’s not fight tonight and get you home. Your frown deepens even more at the idea that Javy’s right and so you wrap your arms around his neck, a sleepy pout on your face and you’re just awake enough to remind yourself not to bury your face in his neck to hide from the harsh hallway lights as you try to hold onto the threads of sleep and relax against Javy’s back as he carries you.

***

Javy can’t help the way his mouth quirks into a smile as the low rumble of snoring tickles his ear. Your arms around his neck are starting to go concerning slack, but he’s almost at the car. He tightens his grip on your thighs and freezes as your face nuzzles into his neck and he doesn’t miss the way his heart lurches in his chest. He knows you’re asleep. You’re doing all this involuntarily. You don’t mean to. And yet his heart is officially pounding out of his chest. He leans forward so you don’t slip with your grip loosening as he reaches the Range Rover. He thanks the keyless entry as the car chirps and unlocks without having to dig into his pocket for his keys. He comes around your side of the car and briefly considers laying you out in the back so that you can sleep more comfortably. He decides against it, worried that you’ll wake disoriented and scared somewhere he can’t instantly assure you that you’re safe. Well, that, and he doesn’t want to look like he’s kidnapping you. He fumbles to open your door before he does his best to ease you carefully into the passenger seat. He frowns as he carefully buckles your seatbelt. You’ll wake with a sore neck if you lean against the door while you’re sleeping so he finds a middle ground, carefully easily the seat back slightly so your body can curl slightly into the seat rather than need to lean against the door.

When he’s satisfied, he goes back around to the other side of the car, sliding into the driver’s seat and turning on the car before he looks back at you and slides his suit jacket off, draping it over your dozing form. At least this way he doesn’t have to focus on how good you look in his jersey. It’s not something new, per se, having a girl wear his jersey. He’s hooked up with plenty of girls with the 68 emblazoned on their backs, doing his best to ignore the brand-new smell of the fabric that sometimes even still has the tags on it. If he makes an effort to accidentally get a stain or two on those, rendering them unreturnable, it’s just an unfortunate byproduct of hooking up. He’s only had a girl or two blatantly complain about it, having the balls to admit they were planning on returning or selling the piece of clothing. One girl a few years ago had actually applauded him for “increasing the sale value” of the jersey and he’s been skeptical of girls in his jersey ever since. Being a hockey player already feels like a commodity where girls are considered, and the idea of them selling his semen, and worse, paying to buy it, gives him the ick.

There’s something different to be said, however, of you in his jersey. Sure he’s heard enough from Jake about how much he loves seeing Bugs wear his name and number, and he’s not blind to the way Bradley’s eyes can’t seem to tear away from Zam on the odd occasion that she dons his jersey. Josie shows up to every game repping her husband in some way or another, but he’d never considered what it would be like to have that himself. Then, tonight, seeing you and Josie watching you and Josie gripping each other excitedly in the stands, he’d found himself thinking about how good you look in the Dogfighters’ colors. He hadn’t even considered that the jersey you were wearing was his until he happened to look over during warmups while you were standing, your back to the rink as you helped Josie finagle something in a bag and he’d caught sight of his name staring back at him where it’s emblazoned across your back. He almost dropped his stick, accidentally shaking into Bradley who’d glared at him until he followed Javy’s gaze and smirked at him instead, skating away without another word.

He’s not sure when he decided he liked the idea of you being his but now he’s sitting here in his car with you asleep next to him when a month ago you’d never have considered letting your guard around him enough to relax let alone fall asleep. His heart is still hammering in his chest and his cheeks warm at the memory of your nose brushing his neck. Every part of his head is screaming in panic, the way it had that day after meeting your class for the first time. Every instinct that’s been burned into him over the year screams at him to run for the hills and burn every bridge on the way out, but he grips the steering wheel tight, pushing the voices away as his breathing comes out ragged.

He jerks the car to a harder stop than he’s like at a red light and takes a shaky breath as he looks over at you. The moonlight reflects the calm stillness of your face, brows smooth and at peace as you doze and he feels his grip loosen. You’re so brave, he thinks. He’s done nothing but push you out of your comfort zone and yet you’ve squared your shoulders and taken it in stride. Sure sometimes you’ve forged ahead with shaking hands and teary eyes, but you haven’t faltered once. You’re the bravest person he knows. He once thought that being brave meant being fearless but as he chances another look at you as he pulls into your parking lot he thinks maybe that being brave is being afraid and doing your best anyway.

He watches as you shift your smooth brow furrows in sleepy confusion and your nose scrunches in a way that goes straight to his heart as your eyes blink open, taking in your surroundings. You shift to sit up, peering out the window and Javy tries and fails to keep his eyes from shifting to the back of your jersey. “I fell asleep.” Your voice is rough with sleep as you rub at your eyes but he catches the irritation in your tone.

“And now you’re home, so you can get upstairs and back to sleep,” he points out and you turn, regarding him like you’ve forgotten that he’s in the car too. You nod, frowning as you try to make sense of his words. “Come on, Meep, let’s get you to bed.” You nod again, turning to let yourself out of the car. When he gets to the other side of the car you’re fumbling with your purse to find your keys. When he offers you his hand you wave him off, shuffling sleepily towards the stairs up to your apartment and he trails along behind you, making sure you don’t just collapse somewhere halfway up and spend the night there. When you reach your door, he watches as you fumble with your keys for a solid thirty seconds before he takes the keys from your hand. You don’t argue but he can feel your glare on his temple as he unlocks the door. Your hand grips the knob, taking your keys from him with the other.

“Goodnight, Javy.” He smiles at the sleepy slur in your voice as he steps back and you give him a nod.

“Goodnight, Meep, sleep tight.” You wave half-heartedly as he chuckles softly and you duck past him into the apartment, surprisingly quick as you swing the door shut behind you, and he waits for the turns of the lock and deadbolt before he turns and heads back to his car, trying not to think about how badly he wants you to come back and invite him in.

A/N: Where do you think Javy and Roadie are going this weekend?

#san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters hockey au #false confidence // goldenseresinretriever #fc // goldenseresinretriever #javy coyote machado x you #javy machado x you #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado x reader #javy coyote machado #javy machado #coyote x you #coyote x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm #top gun #no use of y/n

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siuilsalak · 1 month

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Y’all need Ana grocery list help? I live to serve! If you want any other categories just drop an ask and I’ll get right on it!

Grain (these are higher cal bc the nature of grains, they’re good to use as a base since if included in 3 meals a day, it should add up to less than 400cals)

Couscous- one half cup(DRY!) is 90 cals, and it doubles in size when cooked. Good grain to fluff up a meal in case you need to eat in front of others! (100g=112 cals + 4g protein)

Soba- “buckwheat noodles” if you’re not in an area that sells Asian products, 1 calorie per gram, good alternative to pasta by 30+ cals +5g protein

Boiled lentils- amazing protein too, I personally really like lentils because of the low cal and extremely low cost! 100g=116 calories + 10g protein.

Meats

Turkey breast- less than 1 cal a gram, per 100 grams and 97 cals + 24g protein. People say it dries out easily but if you just follow.. the instructions on the package.. oh well

Spicy black bean patties: listen. They’re good ok! I personally LOVE them, microwave them or dry fry and it’s a great breakfast. (100g=164 cals+ 15g protein)

Ham: if you don’t buy the fancy ass honey ham spiral cut then it’s not expensive either! (100g=139cals+22g protein) also who the hell is eating 100g of ham. Cmon. Put the fork down and drink some water, or have that be your one meal

Vegetables (contrary to popular belief, some vegetables are worse than others!)

Japanese sweet potato- 264 cals per 200 grams (100g= 132cals) steam it and rejoice since you discovered a 132 cal meal, I can hardly make it through one! They’re very sweet when fully cooked so they also work in making you feel sick if you keep eating.. just in case :))

Asparagus- steamed asparagus is one of my favorite foods just for taste, it was here before the Ed and it’ll stay forever amen. 100g is 20 calories, great for volume eating especially since when steamed it expands and looks like a whooole lot more

Cucumber- 100g=15cals. “sometimes you need to eat an entire cucumber?” that’s normalized now! Low suspicion high volume ana meal. Slice it up and add lemon juice and salt (5g lemon juice= 1cal, salt=0)

Romaine lettuce- 100g=17 calories. alongside couscous and cucumber you can make a giant bowl for less than 150cals.

Cherry tomatoes: 100g=25 calories. I honestly don’t eat this one very often because they’re so easy to put in your mouth and forget about, slice them up to add to something instead of using them as a snack.

Fruits (don’t come for me I hate blueberries.. there I said it.. they’re so weird texturally!!!)

Honeydew- once again one of my favorite foods outside the ed. It’s so sweet and soft, plus since it’s called honeydew nobody thinks you have an Ed when you’re chowing down on this supposedly sugary melon! 100g=36 calories, but tbh I probably eat 300g whenever I get my hands on it.

Watermelon- an alternative for honeydew in this case, 6 less calories per 100g, but less fun :/ tajin on watermelon is banger though! (Tajin=0 cals)

Apple- edtumblr staple and for a reason! apples can help suppress appetite because they are high in fiber and water, which can make you feel full. (100g=52 calories)

Pears- high in pectin fiber, pears can slow digestion and keep you feeling satisfied for longer! (100g=57 calories)

Drinks (I don’t think that “drinking your calories” is bad! But since that seems to be a super popular take here I’m gonna avoid anything like that!)

Water- Drinking a glass of hot water before meals can help settle the stomach and can help you feel fuller longer, taking a sip of water between each bite also helps reduce overall calorie intake since you’re consuming more! Remember to check out water weight though!! Don’t think you gained 5lb overnight of fat I promise that’s not how it works babe

Green Tea- calorie-free, contains antioxidants, and has been shown to help with appetite control( possibly due to compounds like catechins..?) I prefer jasmine oolong at about 500mL a day (0 cals)

Black Coffee- Low in calories and rich in antioxidants, black coffee can temporarily suppress appetite, partly due to its caffeine content. Nasty asf though. Also calories change by type so please check yours personally 🙇‍♀️

Vegetable Broth- A warm, low-calorie broth can be filling due to its volume, helping curb hunger!! (Great value vegetable broth is 4cals for 100mL)

Sparkling Water- Carbonated water adds a sense of fullness due to the bubbles, and can be a satisfying low-calorie option. Also haha it tickles your mouth ! I buy seltzer and then put it in soda cans so people don’t think I’m andorexick

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l5byrinth · 1 year

Text

dress

“even in my worst times, you could see the best of me”

pairing: cam cameron x fem!reader

summary: in which you and cam have hated each other for as long as you can remember. but what if that hatred wasn’t actually what you thought it was.

warnings: fluff, angst (a little idk), enemies to lovers, lmk if i should add more, not edited

a/n: FINALLY i’m back yall!! i’ll probably disappear for like another few months again but i really had to post this one bc there aren’t enough fics for my bae cam 🫶🏼 and my requests are open!! i don’t want my work copied, translated and/or posted on another platform without it being discussed with me.

my masterlist

Inhale. Exhale.

The nerves were flooding in as you waited for your turn to be ‘presented to society’. Being a debutant and actually participating in the stuff you found nonsense at first was the last thing you expected you’d be doing this summer. What you didn’t expect in a million years either, was falling for the one you sworn you hated with every single part of you.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it began, but it hit you hard when you heard that Belly broke up with Cam. Thoughts of the two of you being together flooded your mind, and though you tried to push them away, they lingered.

Instead of pursuing these thoughts, you distanced yourself from Cam, which turned out to be more difficult than expected since he seemed to be everywhere you were.

Cam was taken aback by your sudden distance. Although you both disliked each other, you never missed the opportunity to bicker. Now, whenever he tried to engage, you either ignored him or replied formally without any insults.

And if Cam had to be honest, it made him feel this pain in his chest. Especially when you started to hangout him with this guy you had met at the bonfire. The same guy you befriended to try to forget Cam. And also the same guy who was your escort to the debutant ball.

Cam tried to come up with reasons for your distance, and one day, he found himself standing in front of your house. Cam wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do, but he was determined to see you. His heart skipped a beat when he made it to the porch and he halted in front of the door, taking a deep breath in.

He was about to knock, when a thought jumped into his head.

You were scrolling on your phone, trying everything to get Cam out of your head. But everything you saw reminded him of you. You even came past a video of whales and wanted to scream out loud. Why was your phone working against you?

A knock on your window interrupted your furious thoughts and confusion washed over you. You don’t remember meeting up with anyone, or telling someone to come by your window. Scared that it might be a burglar, you grabbed the first object you saw to use as a weapon. However, when you opened your window, the last person you expected was in front of you, heavily panting. “Cameron?” You questioned, lowering your weapon since there wasn’t an actual real threat.

“Hi.” He simply greeted with a grin, before climbing into your room. He stood way too close to you, making your breath hitch as he dusted himself off. But you weren’t going to let him notice what kind of effect he had on you, so the best you could do is just bicker like you used to to mask it.

“What are you doing here? Trying to rob me or something?” You asked as you took a few steps back, “‘Cause I’m not afraid to use this!” You showed the bedside table lamp in your hands.

“Calm down, Y/l/n,” He chuckled as he put his hand on your arm to lower it, and you just allowed him to do so. You felt yourself relax at the warmth and touch of his hand and mentally cursed yourself for this. He liked at you with a small smile, a smile that made your heart flutter in your chest.

Cam’s hand lingered on your arm, before he cleared his throat and quickly removed it. Around everyone, he was always shy and reserved, but with you it was different. You brought out some confidence in him he never knew he had. And Cam never understood why, but with you, he felt at ease and weirdly enough, safe. Whenever he even looked in your direction, his worries would vanish as if they never existed.

Cam walked past you slowly and looked around your room. He tried to memorise every object on your desk, every little detail in your room. “Why are you ignoring me?” He asked, throwing his head over his shoulder to look at you. You were standing there at loss for words, trying to come up with a good excuse. He nodded to himself when you didn’t answer before continuing his walk around your room.

“I should be asking you the questions! Why are you in my room, Sextus?” You crossed your arms over chest and watched him let out a laugh at the name you called him. The sound made you burst of out happiness, but you weren’t planning on showing.

“Please, Ceres, be honest with me…” He started walking back towards you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he remembered the name you used at the latin convention made your heart skip a beat. “Why would I?” You said with a loud huff and you turned your head to the side with your eyes closed.

When you opened your eyes, Cam’s face was only an inch from yours, and you felt your guard fall down. It would’ve been so much easier if Cam didn’t have this effect on you. Your face fell. “Stop.” You mumbled, inaudible for him to hear.

“What was that?” He inquired genuinely, getting even closer if that was even possible. “Stop!” You spoke out louder, making him jump out of his skin, but soft enough for it to be a whisper. “Stop what?” Cam asked curiously. You stared into his eyes, trying to find something, think of something to make you hate him again. But as you looked into his deep eyes, all you could think about what you could be, as something else than enemies.

You looked at the ground in defeat, before continuing, “I’m trying so hard, Cameron, so hard.”

Cam was quiet as he looked at you with a confused look on his face, and he wanted you to tell him everything that was on your mind. When you looked up at him, Cam noticed that there was something else in your eyes. Something else than what he usually saw, and he couldn’t quite place what it was. “Cameron, I’m trying so hard not to hate you.” You whispered.

Cam’s heart was pounding out of his chest, while he was looking at you with his mouth agape ever so slightly. He hoped your words meant what he thought they meant, and his hand reached for yours.

A yell of your name woke both you and Cam out of your trance, eyes widening in panic. “Is everything okay up there?” Your mom yelled from downstairs, and you heard her footsteps coming up the stairs. Cam rushed towards your window, and you helped him get out quickly. Before he got down, he said something that you spent thinking about the weeks that followed, “I’m really trying hard to hate you too, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try.”

Ever since he dropped by, you had avoided him more than you initially did. And that made Cam wonder what he did or said wrong that day. You were all what he could think about, and if he wasn’t thinking about you, he was dreaming about you or speaking about you.

Whenever you saw him, you would walk the other way, you would pretend you didn’t see him standing. You basically ignored his existence. And for Cam it felt like a stab through the heart, a deep and painful one.

This continued until the debutant ball.

Cam was standing on the flight of stairs behind two other escorts and in front of many others, waiting for the girl’s name he was escorting to be announced. He didn’t know how he ended up here, escorting a girl, who he didn’t even really knew that well, to the debutant ball, But he would do anything to keep his mother happy, so here he was.

He was nervously fidgeting with his fingers, his mind on you like it always has been since the first time he saw you. A part of him wished it was you he was escorting. He wished that he was the one who first saw you in your dress before your presentation.

He fantasised how he actually wanted this day to go. You standing there in a beautiful dress, looking drop-dead gorgeous like you always did. Him being the one to look at you with an encouraging smile and mouthing to you how enchanting you looked. It was all you deserved and more. It killed him he wasn’t the one to be doing it.

When it was Cam’s to turn to go up stage and escort the girl, he imagined it was you by his side. He flashed her a polite smile as she did the same and watched as her eyes drifted off to behind him. Cam followed her eyes and saw that she was looking at none other than the guy who was escorting you.

Cam and the girl got off the stage and walked over to the other debutants, waiting for the next debutant to be presented. And when your name was called, Cam felt a heavy flutter in his chest he most certainly couldn’t ignore.

The girl beside him watched his demeanour change at the sound of your name and smiled to herself. She always had the feeling Cam had a thing for you.

When you appeared on stage, Cam’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you looked in your dress was indescribable and the way you glowed made his heart race a million miles per hour. You scanned the crowd, trying to find a familiar face to ease your nerves. And when your eyes locked Cam’s warm ones it felt as if the world stopped turning. Every single person around you disappeared, it was just you and him.

And your nerves disappeared as quickly as they appeared.

You never pulled your eyes away from his gaze as you walked down the stage with your escort. The escort who had picked up on your crush on Cam a long while back.

Cam tried his best to keep his composure, he was refraining himself from running over to you and holding you like there was no tomorrow, he tried his best not to think about all the ways he would compliment you and make you feel good.

You and your escort halted in front of the table your parents were sitting at and you finally broke eye contact with Cam. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and you were thinking about Cam all the damn time as you waited for the presentations to finish.

When they did, every debutant with their escort bowed down to the table with their family. Afterwards, everyone sat down and waited for some surprise performance the escorts were giving. Your escort waited for you to take a seat next to one of your parents, before he parted as well after flashing you a small smile.

“You looked amazing, honey.” Your mom praised, putting a hand on your shoulder. You thanked her and looked around the ball room, trying to find the one person who lived in your mind rent free. Cam was just walking past to get to the other escorts, when his eyes met yours once again. But this time you looked away after a few seconds, trying to nonchalantly brush off the fact you had a major crush on the guy you had thought was your number one enemy.

After the sudden dance performance, your escort had disappeared somewhere, along with the girl Cam was escorting. But neither of you seemed to care, as all you did was gaze at each other longingly, waiting for the people to announce when the first dance was about to take place.

Your parents, who were seated beside you, had noticed your stares and stolen glances towards the boy and smiled at each other knowingly. You tried to hide it, but they knew you. They knew when their daughter was actually in love.

The sound of glass clinking was heard, before a woman announced that it was time. And at that moment you woke up from your trance, realising your escort was still nowhere to be seen. Every debutant, alongside with her escort was gathering on the dance floor, except for you and, well, Cam.

“Mom, where is he?” You questioned worriedly. “It doesn’t matter,” She answered, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “I think there’s someone else you’d much rather want to share this dance with.”

She tilted her head towards a certain direction, and you knew immediately who she was referring to. But your eyes followed the direction she meant anyway, with a racing heart.

Cam was standing there, looking at you like a man in love. That’s because he is. He is in love. And before you knew it, your feet made their way towards him. You halted in front of him with a smile. You were panting like you had just run a marathon, but you didn’t care, because you were right in front of who you wanted to be.

“Seems like we both don’t have a dance partner, huh?” Cam chuckled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. All you could do was nod in respond, the words you actually wanted to speak out seeming to be stuck in your throat.

Your hands reached for his and when your fingers intertwined, you could’ve sworn you heard Cam let out a deep breath. The music started playing, and the two of you were drowning in one another’s eyes as you danced to the music just like you had practiced. The tension between the two of you was unbearable throughout the entire dance.

And once the dance ended, when you were in the end position, his face was awfully close to yours and you had to do anything in your power to not plant your lips on his. He pulled you back up, with way more force than he intended, which resulted into you being flush against his chest. Your faces only a few inches away, which made it even harder to refrain yourself.

You pulled away slowly, even when you wish you could stay like that forever. The words you desired to speak were stuck in your throat, and your eyes fell down, feeling flustered by everything that has happened this night. He wanted to say so much as he looked at you with a lovesick smile, but he didn’t know how. His right hand fine yours as he put his left hand under your chin.

He stroked your cheek gently with his thumb, his eyes fixated you and only you. You were the only thing that mattered to him any day, anywhere, anytime.

Every couple around you started to leave the dance floor, but you and Cam stayed there without a care in the world. “Let’s get out of here.” He whispered, in which you grinned to in response.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze as you walked towards the exit of the ball room, giggles and chuckles leaving your lips. Your parents watched from afar, knowing you were finally with the one you liked all along.

#cam cameron x reader #cam cameron #the summer i turned pretty #fluff #angst with a happy ending #enemies to lovers #conrad fisher #david iacono #jeremiah fisher #steven conklin

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siconetribal · 24 days

Text

Put it on My Tab (20)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning: Interview pressure, No filter

A/N:

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! I’d also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

An ache started at the base of the back of her head. How long had she been standing here with her neck craned back, looking up at the tall justice building that held the Gotham City Police Department. Y/N could count the number of times she had been her on one hand. This visit was not breaking that record, but she hoped this would be the only one needed. She appreciated the department as a whole, but like all places, it had rotten personalities.

And now weirdos like Dick Dick. She snorted at the little nickname she had for the detective she was working with on the claim case. “Well, I guess he really isn’t all that bad. There are weirder people in this city, like criminals with themes.” The mumbled words were hers alone to hear as she rocked her head side to side to ease the tension before walking in. The ‘enthusiastic’ receptionist barely moved when pointing to a hall of doors, she eventually found her way to the right place and was led to an interview room.

“Y/N, good morning, glad you could make it.” The young detective flashed her a swoon worthy grin. She was not sure if he was trying to charm or disarm, so she gave a small polite smile back.

“Well, it was either come or possibly have a warrant out for my arrest for fraud. As dull as everyday life can be, I like not having a noose around my neck. Plus, my boss would fire me, and I lack a sugar daddy for that luxury.” The casual shrug was in stark contrast to the wide-eyed shock that currently adorned the face of the handsome detective. His brows were so high that they were slightly covered by his bangs that swept across his forehead. “Everything ok?”

“No-yes, sorry, yes. I was just trying to figure out if that was a good morning or something else.”

“Did I forget to say good morning? Where are my manners, good morning…and now you can tack all that I said after that.” She said with a triumphant smile, taking a seat. “Have a seat, let’s get this statement down, and I’ll be out of your well-kept hair and back to grinding coffee beans and whipping up crazy drinks for overly privileged teens.” She motioned to the seat that was clearly meant for him to take.

The corners of his mouth twitched as he pulled out the chair and angled it to face her better. He was thrown off. This was good for her, a little victory for her in all this. It was only fair that he be equally thrown as she, a normal Gothomite, would feel while in a room like this. “I’m guessing your dream job isn’t being a barista.” He chuckled.

“What job could be more satisfying than slaving away in a tiny spot with a few others, a single counter keeping you from the rabid coffee-addicted zombies that come rushing in impossible demands that they don’t even know they want?” She raised a brow at him, her voice was flat and dry. He chuckled again.

“You make a valid point, working for the public is not fun.” He briefly raised his hands, palms facing her, before resting on the table again. “Shall we get started then? As you know, this meeting will be recorded. It’s nothing serious, just formality and procedure. We can stop whenever you want, you’re not under arrest or being interrogated.” He placed a tape recorder on the table between them and clicked the red button. “If you don’t have any questions, we can begin.”

“Oh, one question Dick Dick, Nightwing gave me a tip that evening, do I need to hand that over to you as part of the claim or do I just keep it as a usual tip from a customer?”

Dick Grayson sat frozen in place, the reels of the tape slowly turning as it caught all of her words. This was the second time today that this odd young woman rendered him speechless, but this time was different. He was not sure if he should be laughing at her words or at himself. She had not said anything wrong, and he knew that. It was informal, possibly derogatory to some, and very old-fashioned. It was something he never expected, and yet he knew he was at fault for forgetting he was currently speaking with the very young woman who had his usually grumpy little brother even grumpier than usual.

But did she actually say that on purpose, or was that a slip of the tongue? She was calling me Detective Grayson up until now. Did I miss something? I can see why he’s all knotted up, she really knows how to throw a guy. He watched the slow realization of her words dawning on her. Her eyes widening, her back going straight as she sat taller, and her jaw silently opening and closing until words finally started coming out. A series of apologies and reassurances that she had no ill intentions.

“Can you strike that from the record? Like erase it?”

“I can have it stricken from the transcript, yes, but not from the audio recording, no. That’s, that’s going to be staying on here forever. It’ll just be disregarded, since we’re officially marking it as struck from the record.” He swallowed the laughter that threatened to take over him as she slumped forward with her face hidden in her hands. Her words were low and muffled, but he was certain he heard a few more apologies in there before she forced herself back up and looked at him. “As for your question, a tip is a tip. You said you gave them coffee, they decided to give you a tip. It’s got nothing to do with the claim, since all that’s being asked to be covered is the restoration of the window. Now, shall we officially begin?”

As soon as the interview had concluded, Y/N was out the door before anything else could be said, mostly by her. The last thing she needed was for the detective to try to pry out anything more embarrassing from her. Her heart rammed into her chest as her mind so mercifully replayed her words and the look of horror that came across Detective Grayson’s normally jovial expression on an infinite loop. The flirtatious cop had shrunk away, and the look had to be disgusted, what else would he feel after someone called him something so utterly ridiculous. Regardless of his highly unprofessional dalliances, he never actually crossed a line with her. She, who kept it completely professional throughout the time, had blown everything up to the high heavens.

Because clearly, my mind is willing to give up the idiotic things that come to me, for free. Slapping a hand over her eyes, rubbing up and down a few times before combing her fingers through her hair. “Don’t say it, Y/N, don’t say it. If you say it, something worse will happen.” Climbing up the steps of the bus, she quickly took one of the few available seats and plugged in her earbuds. She sank into the uncomfortable seat, actively pushing the mortifying memory that would haunt her for the rest of her days, as she increased the volume. With her favorite playlist playing on shuffle, she mindlessly went through her phone and realized she was now staring at the old text conversation between her and her ‘capeless crusader’. Automatically, her thumb moved to close the screen, but the finger hesitated. It hovered between tapping back to her home screen and the input box in the chat.

Maybe he’s a bigger dumbass and thinks I’m happy he’s out of my hair? She bit her lower lip as she warred with what to do. There’s no harm in texting, right? What’s the worst that can happen? He doesn’t read or leaves me on read? He wasn’t the best at texting right away with his work schedule. Not only that, but he could be busy. She reasoned in favor of him. “What do I even text him? It’s not like I’m living an exciting life.” She grumbled when one word from the chat came into focus.

<Hey, I know this is late, but thanks again for helping me out. I let my brain just shut down and enjoy the first few days of debt-free life. The brownies you made were amazing. Didn’t peg you as the baking type. Books, bikes, and now baking? You’re a triple B threat, Boy Wounder. Are you still planning that meet up, or should I quash my hopes before they’re dashed?> She reread the message several times, tweaking the tiniest of things. It got to the point that she was getting frustrated herself and just hit the arrow to send and shoved the phone into her pocket. It was done and there was nothing more she could do except wait for would inevitably feel like an eternity or will actually be an eternity, if he decided not to reply. Nothing to worry about, but why would her mind side with logic? Today was to be a day of mental anguish, all thanks to herself.

Tags:

@vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotall @antiquecultist

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badkitty3000 · 5 months

Text

I had to make a new post for the remaining chapters because it was getting too long to add them to the original. If you'd like to read chapters 1-6, here is the link.

☕Love In The Time Of Cholera And Coffee ☕

Part Two: Chapters 7-9

Five x Female Reader, Klaus x Female Reader

You and Klaus are in a casual relationship. No ties, just sex. When you start spending a lot of time at his apartment, you somehow manage to break through his brother's prickly outer shell. He seems to like you, or at least tolerate you the best that Five can. When you start to realize that maybe there is more than just mutual friendship between the two of you, it opens up a lot of feelings and unanswered questions. And a lot of problems.

This story contains sexually explicit material! (But also lots of humor and fluff)

Chapter Seven: Be My Baby

The morning rush is typical for a Saturday. Lots of parents on their way to soccer tournaments, and elderly couples that wake up early, starting their day when the sun rises. You don’t need to be there, necessarily. Your team can handle it. But you like it. You like the early morning sunrise and the smell of the first pot of coffee brewing. The smiles of the hopeful people as they start their days. The morning is perfect. It gives everyone the chance to start fresh.

As you’re surveying the pastries and taking note of inventory, the bell over the door rings. You don’t even look up as you focus on the spreadsheet on your tablet. The customer, however, is not the usual. You recognize the silhouette of the person walking towards you. How could you not? It’s been 6 months, but you’ll never forget it.

“Hey there,” he says, as he nears the counter.

He’s just as you remember him and he addresses you as if no time has passed.

“Hi, Klaus,” you respond with a timid smile, looking up from your tablet.

Klaus removes his sunglasses that had been perched on his nose, and he looks around, taking it all in. He smiles that smile that usually means he’s up to something.

“Wow, so this place is hopping!” he says as he leans against the counter.

He’s wearing a pair of way too-tight white jeans, and a tank top that says “Slut” across the chest. His signature dog tags hang down over the lettering and jingle when he moves.

“Yeah, we’re doing alright. Our profits are actually up since I bought it,” you respond with pride.

You haven’t seen Klaus since that day he and Five had their blow-out fight over you. Well, technically you haven’t seen him since the night before the blow-out. You had figured you’d never see either one of them again. Yet, here he was.

“Is that right? Well, mazel tov,” he answers with a genuine smile.

“Can I get you something?” you ask.

“I’ll take a green tea if you don’t mind,” Klaus says.

He doesn’t sound angry like you assumed he would be. Like he should be, honestly.

You nod at the barista who is working today and he busies himself with making Klaus’s drink. In the meantime, there is no one else in line, so you and he are stuck staring at each other. Klaus speaks first.

“So, it’s been a while. How are you?” he asks, a suspicious-looking smile on his face.

“I’m fine, thank you. And you?”

Klaus shrugs his shoulders and looks around again. “Oh, you know. I’m always here and there, doing something.”

You smile. “Same old Klaus. Like a feral tom cat just prowling the town.”

He winks back at you with a grin. “Meow.”

The barista hands him his tea and he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet to pay, but you hold out a hand.

“Don’t be silly. It’s on the house.”

Klaus raises his eyebrows, then lifts his cup up in a toasting gesture. “Thank you!”

You shrug. “It’s the least I can do. The very least.”

He nods thoughtfully and takes a sip, looking around the shop again. “Do you have a minute? You know, to talk?”

You swallow nervously and chew at your bottom lip. He doesn’t seem upset, but what does he want to talk to you about? It can’t be anything good. But you nod and come around the counter. You gesture to an empty table near the back, away from listening employees, and you both make your way over. Once you and Klaus are situated, sitting across from one another, you wait with hands folded in front of you.

“So…you’re probably wondering why I came here, aren’t you?” he asks, still with that same Klaus smile on his face.

You nod. “A little, yeah. I know we have good tea here but given the circumstances…” You look down at your hands and start picking at a cuticle. “I really never thought I’d be seeing you again.”

Klaus leans back and drapes an arm lazily over the back of the chair. “Yeah, well…I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And maybe a little bit of therapy.” He rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve been trying to be a better person and see the error of my ways, and all that shit. And I have come to the conclusion that I owe you an apology.”

The surprise on your face must be evident because Klaus gives a little laugh and shakes his head. “I know that’s not what you were expecting. But, it’s true. I owe you an apology and I’m sorry.”

“For…for what? I’m the one—”

He cuts you off with an airy wave of his hand. “Listen. I was selfish and I should have appreciated you more. I know we weren’t going to end up getting married or anything, but I could have made more of an effort. Like when you were sick…that was shitty of me and I’m sorry. If I had treated you just a little better, then maybe…”

You groan and drop your forehead onto your hands as they rest on the table. “Klaus, I appreciate the apology, but you had nothing to do with that. That was me and I’m the one that needs to apologize, not you. I’m the one that fucked everything up between you two.”

Klaus is quiet and you glance up at him. He has a tiny smile on his face again. “Ok, so we both had a hand in it. And I accept your apology. But you didn’t fuck everything up. I mean, you’re not that amazing,” he says with a smirk before taking another sip of his tea.

You lift your head. “What do you mean? You guys aren’t…”

Klaus shakes his head and gives another dismissive wave. “Nah, we’re good. He did move out, though. But that might have been more about me leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor than anything else.”

You chuckle a little and lean back in your chair, starting to relax somewhat. “Huh. Well, good. I’m glad to hear that.”

Klaus is looking at you with one eyebrow raised, his mouth turned up at the corner.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask.

Klaus shrugs his shoulders, trying to look innocent. Then he reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a small, folded piece of paper. He slides it across the table to you. You pick it up with a look of confusion. When you unfold it, you see there is an address scrawled on it in Klaus’s messy handwriting.

“What is this?”

He gives another shrug. “I think maybe you two need to talk.”

Your eyes widen and you glance back down at the paper. “Wait…this is his address?”

Klaus nods, but then he’s starting to stand up, apparently ready to leave. “If you don’t want it, throw it out. But I figured I owed you that much.” He puts his sunglasses back on and looks down at you. “You do know he’s in love with you, right?”

Your shocked expression makes him laugh and he leans down to give you a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thanks for the tea. Maybe I’ll see you around. You know, at family gatherings or something?”

Then Klaus is walking out the door, leaving you stunned and staring down at the piece of paper in your hands, your brain whirring.

A week goes by and you try not to think about it. But it’s kind of hard when you carry that paper around with you in your pocket every day. The address isn’t far from your store. Just a few blocks, actually. Which makes you realize that he has probably been avoiding you and the shop like the plague. Or has he been quickly walking by, taking a glance through the windows to see if you’re there? Maybe blinking away before you can raise your head and see him. Doubtful. Despite what Klaus told you, you have every reason to believe he has no desire to see you again.

Every time you think that maybe you should walk over there, to that address you have memorized now, you change your mind. Maybe it would be different if you still didn’t have a clear image of him in your head from the last time you saw him. That blank, uncaring look on his face. Those cold words he said to you. That’s what stops you each time.

But then at night, when you’re home alone and in bed trying in vain to sleep, different images come to mind. Memories of his face and his smile, and the way he would begrudgingly laugh at something funny you said. And of his body on yours, the heat of his skin, and his urgent kisses. You remember every word he said to you in the dark that night. And you just can’t believe he didn’t mean them. Not when he was pleading with you to be his.

The crazy thing was that you had already given yourself over to him. You wanted to be his. And you had thought that night was going to be just one of many you would spend together. Maybe it would have been awkward at first, with Klaus; but you were willing to try and work past that. Because that’s how much you wanted to be with him.

What an idiot you had been. On your way out of work one night, you throw the paper with the address into the trash can and walk away.

It has been two weeks since Klaus came by and even though you still can’t stop thinking about what he told you, you aren’t taking the bait. You’re better off without him or any of that mess. He’s better off without you, too.

The café is quiet, with only a few lights left on. It’s been closed for an hour now, all cleaned and the food stored away for the night. Your staff has gone home and it’s just you there. You’re finishing up some financial documents on your laptop at a table, a mix of some soft rock tunes playing on the speakers overhead. You’re humming along to a Whitney Houston song when you hear a knock on the glass door. When you look up, you take a sharp breath in and accidentally knock over the glass of water you had sitting next to you.

It's Five. He’s standing there, right outside the door, and he’s already spotted you, so you can’t exactly hide. Plus, now you’re jumping up and trying to mop up the spilled water with a few flimsy napkins and swearing to yourself out loud.

“Shit shit shit,” you mumble.

When you look up again, you can see Five watching the whole thing go down and he’s got that smirk on his face. The one you hate but also can’t stop thinking about. You huff, rolling your eyes, and motion for him to come in. The door is locked for the night, of course, but that doesn’t matter. He blinks in right away, reappearing a few feet away from you, hands in his pants pockets.

“Hi,” he says with a smile.

You pause, taking him in for a moment. Damn it, why is he so good-looking? With his stupid dark hair falling onto his forehead and his annoyingly perfect body and ridiculously chiseled jawline. And that goddamn sexy, smart-ass expression on his face. Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” you say, trying to appear like you couldn’t possibly care less that he’s standing right in front of you.

He shrugs. “Just walking by. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d see if you were still here.”

After throwing the soggy napkins into the trash behind the counter, you come around again and lean against it, your arms crossed.

“Just walking by, huh?”

Five at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed as he glances at the floor and clears his throat.

“Yeah, well…something like that,” he mumbles.

“Why are you here, Five?”

You’re determined not to let him see the uncertainty in you and you raise your chin and square your shoulders to try and appear more confident. Inside, a million butterflies have taken residence in your stomach.

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, so…Klaus told me he came by the other day.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yes, he did. And?”

“He told me he talked to you and gave you my address.”

You make a circular motion with your hand to get him to hurry this little story along.

“Anyway, he said he gave it to you and I thought maybe…” he trails off and looks down at the floor again.

“Ohhh…you thought maybe I’d come crawling back to you? Run right on over and jump into your arms? Tell you all is forgiven. Is that what you thought?”

“No!” he snaps, and then his voice softens again. “No. I just thought…” He throws his hands in the air in frustration. “Fuck! I don’t know what I thought! This is stupid, I don’t know why I came here.”

He turns around to leave, but you call out so that he stops in his tracks. “I almost did!” He turns to you and you blush a little. “I came really close to going over there. I had a whole speech prepared and everything. It was good, too. I was really going to let you have it.” You give a short laugh.

“Why didn’t you?” he asks.

“Because I was afraid that what Klaus told me wasn’t true,” you admit.

“What did Klaus tell you?”

You’re not really sure you want to get into all of that quite yet, so you change the subject back to him.

“Really, why are you here, Five? It’s been six months, so why now?”

“I just…” he takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to see you again. And to say I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Then they crease together again. “And which thing or things are you sorry for?”

Five sighs and takes a few steps toward you, but stops short of coming too close. He seems to gain a little more confidence and he looks you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for everything. For putting you in that situation. And for saying what I did. I know I was a jerk and you didn’t deserve that.”

You look up and blink a few times to try and keep your emotions in check. Then you look back at him.

“Jerk doesn’t even begin to cover it. You hurt me, Five. Really hurt me. Do you realize that?”

He swallows hard and nods. “I know.”

“Why? Why did you do that? I don’t understand. I was ready to…” Your voice cracks and you don’t finish your sentence.

“After the fight with Klaus, I just felt so awful and ashamed, so I panicked and took it out on you. Which was a really shitty thing to do, and I’m so sorry. I also understand if you never want to see or talk to me again, but I thought I’d take a chance by coming here. I at least wanted to let you know.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah, ok, so you’re sorry. Is there anything else you’d like to confess?”

“What do you mean?”

You shift your weight to your other foot and cross and uncross your arms. “Did you even mean those things you said that night?”

He pauses for a minute and you see him swallow hard. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I meant them.”

“Klaus said you’re in love with me,” you blurt out, and you watch as his eyes get wide and his face flushes.

He clenches his teeth together. “Fucking Klaus,” he mutters under his breath.

“So?” you challenge. “Is he right?”

He is visibly uncomfortable and his hands are in his pockets again as he looks at the floor. Then he gathers some courage and he looks up.

“He’s right,” he says. “I am in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

You sigh and put your hands on your hips and look up at the ceiling, then back at him again. “Damn it, Five!”

“What?”

“You know, just because you say that does not mean all is forgiven, or that I’m automatically in love with you too, even though I am, although why I have no fucking idea. I really cannot believe the nerve of you showing up here after all this time. You are still the biggest asshole I have ever met and I’m not even sure I want anything to do with you anymore—"

Your rant is cut short when Five closes the few feet between you in a short spatial jump, making you yelp sharply when he suddenly grabs you around the waist and pulls you into him.

“Let go of me!” you say in protest.

“What did you say?” he asks, that arrogant look on his face as his mouth turns up on one side.

You squirm, trying to get out of his grasp but it’s not very convincing, and it’s also making your body rub up against his, which is not helping matters. His hold on you is strong, though, and he doesn’t let up. He’s looking you right in the eyes and you can’t seem to look away.

“I said you’re a giant asshole,” you say, your voice much weaker all of a sudden.

“You said you’re in love with me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” he says with a smirk, right before he jerks your body closer to him, his arm wrapped around your middle and his hand resting on the small of your back.

His eyes travel over your face and you look at his lips and suddenly you can’t think straight anymore. You nod your head slowly.

“Yeah, maybe I did,” you confess in a whisper, right before he kisses you.

His kiss is soft and slow, and he brings his hand up to the side of your face. All of those feelings that you had pushed down come rushing back to you with that touch. You kiss him back, savoring the feel of his soft lips and the way his body feels next to yours.

He smiles against your mouth, even as he continues kissing you, and you drape your arms over his shoulders. When you pull away, he keeps his hand on your cheek.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to get my shit together,” he tells you with a breathy laugh. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you tell him with a smile, but when he goes in for another kiss, you pull back and place a hand on his chest. “Whoa there, buddy, not so fast.”

He scrunches his eyebrows together and it takes a lot of resolve for you not to kiss him right now because his pouty man face is so cute.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

“Ok, so you said you’re sorry, but I’m going to need a little more than that.”

“More?”

“Yes. You can’t possibly think waltzing in here and simply saying you’re sorry and you love me is enough, can you?”

“So, what do you want? You want me to fall on my knees and grovel?”

You place a finger on your lips in thought. “Hmm…that does sound nice, but something tells me you’d actually like that. No, let me think…” When you hear the music that has been playing on the store speakers, your face lights up. “I got it!”

“I’m afraid to ask, but ok, what is it?”

“Sing.”

“Excuse me?”

You step out of his arms and lean back against the counter again. “I want you to sing the next song that comes on. No matter what it is. And I want it done with feeling. To me.”

Five’s face is hilarious because he looks like you just kicked him in the nuts. “Are you fucking serious? You want me to sing to you?”

You nod. “Yep.”

He stares in stunned silence for a minute before he crosses his arms and tilts his head. “You know I took a punch in the face for you.”

You shrug. “Sorry to hear that, but that’s not really relevant at the moment. Plus, I wasn’t there to witness or enjoy it, so it doesn’t count. No, I want you to sing, and if you half-ass it you will have to start over. I want to see some professional, Frank Sinatra-level, Elvis in Las Vegas-style crooning. And I want it right now.”

Five glances up and notices the security camera mounted in the corner behind you and runs a hand down his face. “Shit. And this is the only way you’re going to forgive me and stop torturing me by standing there looking cute but not letting me touch you?”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“And there’s no way I can talk my way out of this and get you to kiss me again? Because I really want to kiss you again.”

“Nope. You say you love me. Prove it.”

He sighs heavily. “Alright then.”

“Alright, what?”

“I guess I’m fucking singing.”

You smile widely and at just that precise moment, the song that had been playing fades out and another one starts up. You start laughing when you hear “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes. It’s such a cheesy, girly pop song, and it’s perfect.

“Don’t forget…with feeling,” you remind him as you perch yourself on the countertop and wait expectedly for him to start.

With another sigh and a sarcastic smile in your direction, Five reluctantly starts singing.

The night we met I knew I needed you so

And if I had the chance I’d never let you go

It’s bad and off-key and he’s stumbling over some of the words. He can’t decide if he wants to sing it in the high, women’s register or lower his voice, so his voice keeps cracking. But he’s putting the effort in, like you requested.

So won't you say you love me?

I’ll make you so proud of me

We’ll make ‘em turn their heads, every place we go

He’s starting to get into it a little, adding awkward dancing and elaborate hand choreography.

So won’t you please

Be my little baby

Say you’ll be my darling

It’s maybe the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and when you start giggling, that’s when he really kicks it into gear. He grabs a plastic knife from the counter and uses it as a microphone to up his performance.

Be my baby now…whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh

He is singing his heart out directly to you, as dramatically as he can. He is also trying not to laugh while you are barely holding it together as you watch his horribly wonderful performance that he is putting on just because you asked him to. The dramatic emoting and facial expressions are too much, so you cover your eyes with your hands and peek through two fingers to watch him.

I’ll make you happy, baby,

Just wait and see

For every kiss you give me

I’ll give you three

For this, he grabs your hand and kisses it dramatically as you toss your head back and laugh at him. You have never seen him act this stupid and silly, and it’s making you love him that much more because you know he’d never do this for anyone else. When the interlude comes on, Five tosses his knife microphone over his shoulder without taking his eyes off you and takes your hand again, pulling you into him. He holds you to him as he dances slowly with you and when the lyrics start up again, he finishes out the song by belting it out as loudly and as off-key as possible while you alternate between laughing and visibly cringing.

So won’t you please

Be my little baby

Say you’ll be my darlin’

Be my baby now

Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh

As the song winds down and fades away, he stops dancing, but he’s still holding you close to him. He stands there with a wicked grin, waiting for you to say something.

“That’s all on video, you know. So I can blackmail you whenever you act up,” you say with a smile.

“Do you believe that I am willing to do anything for you, including humiliating myself? Did I sufficiently prove my love to you?”

“Well, I reserve the right to demand further proof at future times, but for right now, yes. That was sufficient.”

He doesn’t wait any longer before he’s back to kissing you, and this time you don’t try to stop him. When he holds you tight to his chest, his arms wrapped around you and his hand winding into your hair, you feel happier than you have in months. You probably shouldn’t have taken him back so willingly, despite his apologies and musical performance. But you can’t help yourself. You want him like you’ve never wanted anyone in your life, and the fact that he came back here for you has immediately melted any stoniness you had in your heart for him.

It’s quickly obvious that a few kisses are not going to be enough and you are both breathing hard as you try to pull each other even closer. Five pushes you up against the counter, boosting you up so you’re sitting on top and he is standing between your legs, his hands gripping into your thighs and pulling them forward to wrap around his waist. After a few seconds, you place a hand on his chest again.

“Hang on, we can’t do this,” you say, your chest heaving.

Five frowns. “I’m sorry, am I moving too fast?”

“No, I mean we can’t do this here . This is a major health code violation and if someone sees I’ll be in deep shit.”

Five laughs. “Well, I wasn’t planning on jizzing into the espresso machine, but I guess I see your point. We can stop.”

“No, I don’t want to stop ! Can’t we go to your place? It’s just a few blocks over.”

Five raises his eyebrows in surprise and chuckles. “I thought you didn’t care where I lived.”

You blush. “Well…I may have thrown your address out but that doesn’t mean I didn’t memorize it or map out how to get there from here.”

“Stalker!”

“Shut up,” you tell him, even as you’re smiling. “I know you’re loving this, you bastard.”

He shakes his head. “You think I’m loving the fact that the girl I’m head over heels in love with has secretly been obsessed with me and stalking me like a total creep?”

“I wasn’t stalking you! Jesus Christ, Five…are we going back to your place or not?”

He laughs again and you find yourself laughing right along with him. “Come on, psycho, let’s go.” He holds out a hand for you and you hop down off the counter. “It’s a nine-minute walk. Three if you let me blink you part of the way there.”

“You know exactly down to the minute? Who’s the stalker now?”

“Alright, I confess. I may have walked past here a couple of times.”

“Only a couple?” you ask with a smile.

He rolls his eyes. “I think I already regret coming here.”

You give him a quick kiss and then pull him by his hand towards the door. “No, you don’t. Because, in a few minutes, I’m going to rock your world, baby.”

He gives a frustrated groan. “You’re definitely letting me blink you there, now. I can’t wait a full nine minutes.”

Chapter Eight: Slow Hand

When we arrive at my apartment (5 minutes later, after one blink and a quick make-out session on the street), we step inside and she takes a look around. It’s not much different than the one I shared with Klaus, just a little smaller. The furniture is nice but simple, and everything is clean. There’s nothing fancy about it, but it’s comfortable and cozy. She notices a folded-up newspaper on one of the tables, turned to a half-completed crossword puzzle.

She smiles and points at it. “Such an old man thing to have.” She glances around. “Where’s the bowl of butterscotch candies? Or the plastic furniture covers?”

I am watching her as she starts walking around the living room, but then I suddenly blink over and grab her from behind. My arms are around her middle, holding her close to me while my mouth makes its way to her neck. After her initial shock wears off, she melts into me and tips her head back onto my shoulder.

“I might be an old man, darling, but my body and my hormones are 21 and you are driving them fucking crazy right now.”

She inhales sharply and exhales a soft laugh as I caress her stomach and hips with my hands, letting my mouth trail over her neck.

“Good thing for you, I happen to have a thing for older men in hot, young bodies,” she says. She turns around to face me, my arms still around her, and she gives me a smile before kissing me.

“Lucky me,” I reply.

Before I can say anything else, she pushes me backward until my legs hit the back of the couch. She gives me a shove with a hand on my chest, making me sit down, and she immediately climbs onto my lap, straddling me. Just that move right there has me hard already and I grab her face with both hands, kissing her deeply while she pushes herself over my crotch.

“Can I ask you something?” she breathes out while my mouth returns to her neck.

“Hmmm,” I respond in between kisses.

“Have you been with anyone else since me?”

I stop and I just can’t help but tease her a little with an inside joke about the book we read together. I flash her a devious smile. “622. Give or take.”

She laughs and whacks me on the chest. “Yeah, right. You wish.”

I shake my head. “No, sweetheart. There’s been only you on my mind.” Then I trace my thumb across her bottom lip and look her in the eyes. “But it’s ok if you have.”

She kisses me again, running a hand through my hair. “I went on one date, that’s it.”

Despite what I just told her about it being ok, my body immediately tenses up when she says that and I know she can tell. I start to relax a little when she places her own kisses onto the side of my neck. I let out a long breath before I ask more questions, even though I don’t really want to hear about it.

“Just one?”

She nods, continuing her kisses. “Yes. Just one.”

“And how did this date end?” I ask, trying to play it cool, although I doubt it’s very convincing.

She runs her tongue under the curve of my jaw before giving it a small bite. I grab her hips in return.

“It ended with a very steamy good night hug.”

I let out a hum of approval, leaning my head back while she draws her lips over my Adam’s apple.

“Why nothing more?”

She pauses and waits until I’m looking at her again. “Because he wasn’t you,” she tells me. I think maybe she is teasing me, but the look on her face is completely serious.

“I like that answer.”

I put my hand on the back of her neck as I try to pull her in for another kiss, but she resists and pulls backward. I’m momentarily confused until I see her very devilish face as she slowly slides off my lap and onto the floor, kneeling in front of me with her hands on my thighs. She looks up at me, biting her lower lip and it’s a goddamn miracle I haven’t come in my pants yet. I let out a little whimper just from the sight of her.

“You know, you kicked me out before I had a chance to repay you for that amazing tongue action you gave me that night,” she tells me.

“That was pretty fucking stupid of me,” I joke, although I’m clearly breathing harder and I have to shift in my seat.

She smiles and leans forward, letting her mouth graze over the crotch of my pants where the hard swelling of my erection is impossible to miss. When I feel her warm breath seeping through the fabric, I suck in a loud breath and push my hips up.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

As she starts unbuckling my belt and opening my pants, she looks back up. “You don’t have to,” I tell her quietly.

She gives me a small smile but starts to pull at my pants until I help her out by lifting my hips up slightly. When she takes my straining cock in her hand, I make another groaning noise and swear under my breath.

“Let me give this to you,” she says softly.

She is licking and sucking up and down my shaft and circling her tongue over the head, and I’ve never experienced anything like this before. I may have had a few sexual experiences before her, but none of them involved anything sensual like this.

“You taste so good,” she moans before her lips pass over my entire length again and I have to close my eyes.

I move a hand to her head and she makes a little whining noise that I take to mean she’s ok with me doing that. Which is very good, because I am having one hell of a time controlling myself right now. I flex my fingers and pull her hair at the same time I just slightly push her head down. I want to fuck her face so badly right now, but I know if that happens, I’m going to be done in about three seconds and I’d really like to wait just a little longer before I embarrass myself again this evening.

“Oh fuck, honey, that feels so good and I really don’t want you to stop, but…shit…I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer if you keep doing that.”

She doesn’t laugh, or argue, and she looks pretty proud of herself as she removes her mouth from me and looks up. My chest is heaving and I lick my lips.

“Get up here,” I say with enough authority that she knows I’m not messing around.

It must have worked because she’s standing up in a second and stripping off her clothes until she is fully naked in front of me.

“God fucking damn it, you’re gorgeous,” I groan, reaching out a hand for her.

Rather than climb directly onto my lap again, she shakes her head and leans down to unbutton my shirt and drag it down my arms. I love the way her warm hands feel on me as she quickly undresses me. She yanks my pants the rest of the way down my legs and off until I’m completely naked, too. She stops for a minute and looks me over. My mind drifts back to the time she caught me in the shower, jerking off while thinking of her. Luckily now, I get to do a lot more than just imagine things.

This time when I pull her by the hand, she immediately relents, straddling my lap once more. I dive onto her mouth to kiss her hard while I grab her hips tightly. She whines quietly as she automatically starts rubbing her soaking wet slit over my cock. It feels amazing, but I need to be inside of her again; I can’t wait any longer. With one lift of her hips and some maneuvering with my hand, she sinks down onto my shaft, letting me fill her up entirely.

“Oh…oh my god!” she cries out.

We stay like that for a minute, neither one of us moving yet, and I bring my hand up to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me.

“I’ve missed you so much…” I murmur into her shoulder and I hear her sigh happily.

When she starts to move, slowly, over my dick, my grip on her tightens and I thrust up to match her rhythm. I can’t stop looking her deep in the eyes, so when she tries to look away, I gently guide her face towards me again. My hands travel down her sides and back up again, around to her ass, and then over her thighs. I want to touch every part of her and I can’t believe how long I’ve gone without feeling her. I love how it feels with her slowly fucking me, but I can’t stop the urge to have her pounding away on top of me.

“Ride me harder, sweetheart,” I tell her with a groan as I jerk her body forward.

She does exactly what I say and starts moving hard and fast on top of me, her hands holding onto my shoulders and her forehead pressed to mine.

“I love you, Five. I need you and I love you,” she tells me, and she sounds so desperate.

I’ve never been so happy to hear something in my whole life and it’s almost painful to feel the amount of love that is flowing through me right now. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry for everything. I love you so much.”

It’s hard to focus on everything all at once. I want to keep kissing her and tell her so many things. I want to feel her body pressed against mine, her hands all over me, and her harsh breathing on my skin. The desperate noises we are making are getting louder and higher pitched, and underneath all of that, I can hear the wet slapping noises between the two of us as her cunt passes over my dick. She is fucking me as hard as she can, but it’s not enough; I want more.

I don’t say anything or ask if it’s ok before I lift her off by her hips, pulling out and throwing her next to me so that she’s lying on her back. She’s sprawled out, whining at the loss of my body against hers. That doesn’t last long though, because I’m back on top of her in a second, thrusting inside of her again while I hold myself over her.

“I do love you, but fuck , I want to destroy this body of yours right now,” I warn between clenched teeth.

“I’m all yours,” she moans, throwing her head back as I slam into her.

I am rough and relentless, and even though I’m fucking her to the point I’m sure it’s almost painful, she is screaming for more. She is gasping for air and whimpering with each forceful drive of my cock inside of her. I’m starting to sweat and my hair is hanging in my face, but I keep my eyes trained on her. I’m hoping to god she’s getting close because I know I am and this is one race I do not want to win.

“Five…Five, oh my god yes!”

Hearing that is too much, though, and suddenly I’m violently coming inside of her. “Ah, fff-fuck!”

She is falling apart, clutching at my shoulders and writhing beneath me, her body spasming with pleasure as she lets out a sobbing cry that is filled with emotions. My manic thrusting stops as I stiffen against her, my hips twitching as I fill her up with a surge of cum. My moans are loud and long as I hold myself over her, finally lowering myself down enough to kiss her through panting breaths.

As my body relaxes, she pulls me onto her so I can press my face into the crook of her neck, my chest flush with hers. We trade soft kisses back and forth as we both try to catch our breath. She smiles at me and pushes my hair off my damp forehead, trailing her fingers down the side of my neck and over my shoulder. I could stay like this forever.

“Shit, that was amazing. I want you like that every day,” she tells me. “Although, maybe you have lots of important things to do this evening? Should I leave?”

I let out a long sigh. “Is this going to be a thing? You’re just going to make me pay for my stupid behavior again and again?”

She shrugs and gives me that impossibly cute smart-ass look of hers. “Probably.”

I return it by giving her a small bite to the side of her neck and I chuckle when she yelps. I hold myself over her so I can look down on her, one eyebrow raised. “I suppose that’s fair. But you are the only important thing I have to do this evening and you are never leaving again.”

“Oh, so now you’re holding me captive?”

“I’m afraid so,” I tell her sadly.

She laughs and pulls me down to kiss me again. “You’re so cute when you’re all soft and sweet like this.”

“I think we’ve been over this,” I say with a frown. “I am not cute. I am an angry, smoldering, sex god.”

Running a hand over my back and down, she grabs my ass and gives it a squeeze. “Yes, you are. And you are my smoldering sex god.”

I don’t know about the sex god part of it, but I know I am undeniably hers from now on. I smile. “Yes, I am.”

After another quick kiss, I help her up off the couch and she heads to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I still can’t believe this is real and I just stand there like a big, naked dope smiling to myself because I’m so happy right now.

When she comes back out, I’m still there waiting for her and I watch as she bends down to pick up her underwear that was discarded on the floor. I startle her when I grab them from out of her hands and tilt her face up with a hand on her chin.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask with a smirk.

She blinks up at me and sticks her bottom lip out. “I thought I was getting dressed.”

Without taking my eyes off her, I hurl the balled-up panties over her shoulder so that they land halfway across the room. “Like hell you are.”

Then, just to be a giant prick, I grab her around the waist and in half a second we are falling out of one of my portals and onto my bed. She lets out a shriek as her back hits the mattress and I laugh evilly when I land next to her. This might be my favorite party trick and it never gets old.

After she gets her wits about her, she sits up with a scowl and punches me in the arm. “Don’t ever do that without giving me a heads-up again! Fuck, that was weird.”

“Sorry, darling. But when you have the ability to teleport a beautiful, naked woman into your bed, it’s nearly impossible not to take advantage of the opportunity.”

She’s probably still trying to get that foggy feeling to leave her brain, but I don’t wait before I kiss her again, deep and hard while I push her back onto the bed. I know she can already feel me getting harder as I lay myself over her.

With a giggle, she pulls back. “Already? Pretty impressive for someone your age.”

I flip a piece of hair out of my eyes and gaze down at her with an expression I’ve been told makes me look like an arrogant asshole. “Sweetheart, if you think for one minute you are getting any kind of break tonight, think again. We have a lot of time to make up for and with that amazing fucking body of yours, I get hard as a rock just looking at you.”

She lets out a little whimper that has me proving my previous statement as I start pressing myself against her thigh. She lays her head back and lets me kiss down her neck and over her chest. Her hands are warm and firm as they travel over my body in response. Everything is perfect and I’m in heaven.

"Five?”

“Yes, love?” I ask, not stopping as I move my mouth to her cleavage, sucking at the skin there while I massage her perfect tits and lightly graze her nipples with my fingertips.

“I want this to be real. And I want it to last.” I stop what I am doing and look up at her. “If you think there’s a chance that tomorrow or next week or even a month from now you are going to change your mind; if there’s any doubt at all…then I can’t do this. So, tell me now if this is just another impulse you are acting on but are going to regret in the morning. Tell me if you’re going to wake up tomorrow and say none of this was real. Because that shit hurt and I don’t want to feel that bad ever again.”

It’s like someone just ripped my heart out of my chest. I look at her face and it’s filled with so much uncertainty and hurt, and it was all caused by me. I want to reassure her that I will never do anything like that again, but I hardly know where to start. My mouth opens partially before closing again. I reposition myself so that I am lying next to her, placing my hand gently on the side of her face, urging her to look at me. I want to look her in the eyes so that she knows I mean it.

“I know I hurt you. I was horrible to you and I understand why you don’t want to trust me right now. I wish you could see inside my head and know how fucking sorry I am. How I wish I could take back everything I said to you that morning. All I can do is beg for your forgiveness and let me try and make it up to you. I meant everything I said. I’ll take care of you. I want to make you happy. And I want you with me not just for tonight, but always. I love you.”

“Ok,” she whispers with a small nod. “I believe you.”

“I’m serious. I can’t promise I will never do anything stupid again or that I will magically stop being an asshole sometimes, but I can promise that I will never deny my feelings for you again.”

She nods again, and then her mouth turns up in a cute little smile. “Never? Even when I’m incredibly annoying and wiping my snotty nose all over your shirtsleeve?”

I make a disgusted face that has her giggling. “You wiped your nose on me?”

“Just once or twice when you weren’t looking.”

I shake my head. “No wonder I ended up with your disease ten days later.”

She smiles and traces my lips with her fingertips. “A deadly disease and a punch in the face? Just for little old me?”

I kiss the tips of her fingers and nod. “And I would do it all over again a million times if it meant you’d end up here. Specifically, right here, underneath me and naked.”

When I start to kiss her again, I feel her body react as she sighs into me, and her hips start slowly rolling upwards. She tries to drag my body on top of hers, but I don’t let her. Instead, I pull away from her mouth to look at her again, my fingers following the curve of her jaw. I have been thinking of something she said while she was talking in her feverish dreams that night, and I’m going to need to try it out.

“I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it.” I give her another kiss. “So, let Daddy take care of you, my love.”

Her reaction is just what I was hoping for as she sucks in a loud breath and bites at her lip, her hips pressing up again. I laugh, kissing her gently while running the back of my hand down her cheek.

“I take it you like that, sweetheart?” I murmur as I move under her chin.

She whines out some sort of response that might resemble a yes, and I smile with approval while my mouth travels back down her neck and onto her collarbone.

“I want to make you feel good.” I go about sucking a dark bruise onto the hollow between her shoulder and neck, making her hiss through clenched teeth. “Tell Daddy what you want, darling.”

“Shit,” she breathes out, at the same time trying desperately to push herself against me, but I’m being mean and not letting her. “I really fucking like it when you say things like that,” she moans.

I’m trailing my lips over the soft skin of her neck. She’s so beautiful and I nuzzle my face into her shoulder, sighing happily. “Do you? Now, how did I know that I wonder?” My hands start roaming all over her body. I continue to speak close to her ear and bite her earlobe. “What else, my love? Tell me. Tell me everything you want.”

With a whine, she closes her eyes and tips her head back. “I want to feel your hands all over me. I dream about your hands.”

Well, that’s new information. But it’s definitely going to work in my favor because if she likes my hands, I love exploring every square inch of her body with them.

I place another deep, sucking kiss that brands a mark onto her neck and she tries to stifle a whimper, but it comes out anyway. One of my hands is already making its way down her side and onto her hip while my other gently pets her hair as I hold myself partially over her with my forearm.

My fingers trace along the curves of her thighs and onto her stomach. I continue watching her face as I map out her body, bit by bit until she is so starved for more, she tries to push my hand between her legs. I’m quicker and stronger, though, and I pull my hand away with a sly grin and a shake of my head. I really am being a bastard right now.

“If you want something, sweetheart, you need to tell me.”

She gives a small groan of frustration, but she meets my eyes as her hips jerk upwards.

“Fuck me with your hand, Daddy.”

Damn, if that isn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever heard and I think about forgetting her request altogether and just slamming my cock into her instead. I resist, though, and I lower my head to bury my face into her shoulder again. “Oh, shit I love hearing that,” I tell her.

I want to give her everything she wants though, so I get back to work, my hand slowly moving across her lower abdomen and then lower still. I tease by stroking the crease between her thighs and hips and then pull away again. She is getting more and more worked up by my fingers traveling over her body. I decide to crank up the dirtiness level just a little by bringing my hand up to her mouth and pushing my two fingers inside. She immediately grabs my hand by the wrist and starts sucking on them, wetting them all over and slipping her tongue in between. Her eyes fall shut and she moans. I push them in and out a few times, and I like the way she looks when I do that.

“You look so pretty like this, baby,” I tell her before I remove them and she licks at her lips.

I give her another kiss before I’m back to tracing lines over her breasts, leaving a trail of her own saliva over each one. I keep moving down, over her stomach again and around to her hip. It’s slow, but the anticipation makes it all the more erotic when my fingers finally make contact with the satiny area between her legs. The noise she lets out is loud and long and when I slip two digits inside of her tight hole, she cries out; pressing her hips up to try and fuck my fingers.

“Five! Ohhh...god...”

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me,” I order her, and she obeys.

I want to see her reaction to every little movement and calculated maneuver I perform on her. I also want to hear her. I want her to cry out my name and scream so loud the neighbors will think something is wrong. The crease between her eyes deepens and her mouth falls open as she keeps her eyes on me like I want; all while I am fucking her slowly and deliberately with my hand.

“That’s my sweet girl. Just like that.”

When I curl my fingers inside of her and press my thumb into her clit, she grips the bed covers on either side with her fists and arches her back off the bed.

“Oh, fuck yes!” she screams out.

Watching her like this is turning me on like crazy, and I have to tell myself to keep going. I want to pound my cock inside of her again, to feel her tight cunt around me as I slam mercilessly against it. I keep fingering her, but the thought of everything else I want to do is getting to me and I can’t help rubbing my dick against her leg.

She is so wet that my hand is covered in the slick of her arousal, and it’s dripping down my wrist. I push in deeper and work her clit harder while she writhes around, thrusting her hips up. I’m practically humping her leg now, shoving my cock between her thigh and the bed, and I can’t fucking stop. Any contact with her body against my raging hard-on feels amazing and I want more.

Right before she comes, she grabs my hand and shoves it harder against herself, grinding and bucking against it while the noises she’s making get louder and louder. I feel like my dick is going to explode I’m so worked up right now and just watching her fall apart like this is making it worse.

When she starts to squeeze her eyes shut, I don’t let her. “Look at me,” I demand, and she does.

“Ff-iive!” she moans as she pulses against me, her grip on my wrist tightening.

When she calms down and her hand slackens on mine, I pull my soaking-wet fingers out. She smiles dreamily up at me and lets out a breathy laugh.

“Sorry, I got a little—”

I don’t let her finish what she was going to say, because all I can think about are my own needs at the moment. I want to fuck her so badly, but I know that I’m going to come instantaneously if I shove my dick into her right now. Instead, I take her hips and flip her over while I sit up on my knees behind her, pulling her towards me so that her ass is in the air directly in front of me. I hear her make a little squeal of surprise, but I barely register it.

When I haul back and smack her voluptuous ass cheek with the flat of my hand, leaving a beautiful pink mark on her skin, she cries out louder.

“Be a good girl and stay right there for Daddy,” I growl.

All I can think about is how she is finally mine and no one else can have her. I violently pump my hand over my dick as I stare at the perfectly round ass that belongs to only me. I rub one cheek while I’m still jerking my cock; she is moaning while sprawled out on the bed in front of me, ass in the air. It’s such a depraved scene and what I’m about to do will probably not be appreciated, but I can’t be bothered to care at the moment. After a few more strokes I am unloading all over her, covering her with ropes of my cum. I watch as it pools in the small of her back and drips down in between her crack. More of it lands directly on her ass and is sliding down the backs of her thighs.

I want this image to be burned into my brain, as sick as that sounds. I feel like I just marked her as my own like some sort of territorial animal. Some psychiatrist out there would probably have a field day with me right now, but fuck them. She is mine and here’s the sticky, milky proof all over her.

“Fuck!” I yell as the last few drops spurt out.

I’m breathing loud and hard and it takes me a minute to fully grasp what I just did, which was jerking off all over her ass and back without any warning or permission to do so. I can’t see her face either, because she has it turned to the side and her hair is partially covering it.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I start to say, but then she pushes her hair away and glances back at me as she lowers her body so she’s flat on the bed again. I start to feel a little better when I see she’s smiling.

“Damn, Daddy, you are one horny, perverted old man!”

“Yeah, that was not my finest moment, was it? I am so sorry,” I say sheepishly.

She laughs. “Don’t be sorry. Anytime you want to take charge like that, you can do whatever you want to me.”

I break into a wide grin. “That’s a good thing, then, because I have many more dirty things in mind that I’d like to do to you.”

“Can’t wait,” she says in that sexy way I love.

She’s still lying there covered in my semen that is rapidly cooling and sticking to her skin. Even if she says she’s ok with me jerking off all over her, it is probably not the greatest feeling in the world, so I tell her to wait there as I blink into the bathroom to get a warm washcloth to clean her off with.

After all that is taken care of, we settle into bed. She feels so good snuggled up next to me, her body warm next to mine, and I breathe in the scent of her strawberry-infused hair that I have been missing so much. I love how soft her skin is and I can’t stop running my hands up and down her arm and hip as I pull her in closer, her back flush with my chest.

We are quiet for a while, just comfortable in the silence until I speak up. There’s so much I want to tell her, and I’m not even sure where to start.

“You know, for years I would dream about this. About having someone to fall asleep with and wake up with.”

“What about Dolores?”

“I loved Dolores with all my heart, and I will always love her. But there were many nights, after she fell asleep, that I would allow myself to think about what it would be like to have someone that could kiss or hug me back. To touch me at all, really. That’s probably why I liked reading all of those romance novels. There wasn’t a lot of physical love in my house growing up, and then there was only Dolores. My two sources for any affection in my life came from my robot mother and my mannequin wife.”

I let out a small laugh at that, but she doesn’t return it. Instead, she just squeezes my hand and pulls my arms tighter around her. She waits for me to keep going.

“So, those books were the only reference I had for real love. And I wanted that for so long. After a while, though, I just stopped thinking about it. Because I knew it was never going to happen. It was all just a made-up fantasy.”

“I’m so sorry, Five,” she says quietly.

“Don’t be. All of that made me into the fully functioning and mentally stable man you know and love today.”

At that, she does laugh. “You are one of a kind, Five, that’s for sure.”

“That’s another thing,” I start as I rub my cheek against her hair. “Are you sure you’re ok with…you know…my situation?”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, by my rusty mental math, I am technically more than double your age.”

She’s silent for a minute and I think maybe she really is re-thinking this whole thing. “I know that. I don’t care.”

“Are you sure? Because it’s not going to get any better, you know. I’m just going to keep getting older and crankier. Pretty soon, I’m going to want to eat dinner at 4 pm and bitch about my expired grocery coupons.”

She giggles. “I don’t think you can get any crankier than you already are, so I don’t have to worry about that. And the rest I can deal with.” She flips over so she’s looking at me. She threads her fingers into my hair at the back of my neck and I close my eyes at her touch. “I love you because of, not in spite of, all of that. I love you for all that you are, Five. Even the cranky, old man parts.”

When she kisses me, it’s the softest, most loving kiss I have ever felt and I want to melt into her. “With you, I get the best of both worlds. Hot young guy with the mature mind and life experiences of an older man. What’s not to love?”

I lean in for another kiss, and when she breaks away from it, she gives me a little smile. “Besides, as long as you keep fucking me like you’ve been, I don’t care if you’re sixty or six hundred years old.”

She throws her leg over my hip and I shake my head with a smile. “Honey, I really don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“I can tell,” she says before pushing harder against me and kissing me again.

The next morning, after one of the best sleeps of my life, I wake up to the smell of freshly roasted coffee and a soft kiss on my cheek. When I open my eyes, there’s my girl, standing over me and setting a tray down on the table next to the bed. I barely notice the coffee cups with their fragrant steam drifting out of the tops, because I can’t take my eyes off of her. I must be having one hell of a dream right now because she’s wearing one of my t-shirts with nothing else on except a pair of cotton panties adorned with little pink cats. When I smile blearily up at her, still in the process of fully waking, she laughs at me.

“What?” I ask, as I try and haul myself up to a sitting position.

“Your hair. It’s sticking up everywhere. You look like you stuck your finger in a light socket.”

I frown and pat my hand on top of my head, feeling the rat’s nest that’s there. “Give me a break, ok? I just had a pretty wild night. Some crazy woman kept trying to maul me all night long.”

She presses her lips together in an effort not to laugh. “Well, I can hardly blame her. Have you seen yourself with no clothes on? Kind of ridiculous to expect to be left alone.”

“Come here, crazy,” I say as I reach out and yank her towards me by her hand.

She lands sideways on my lap and I kiss her while she attempts to smooth my hair into place. “I brought you some coffee,” she tells me after I let her up for air.

“Thank you, love. Although that hardly seems fair that you’re serving me coffee. Don’t you have to work today?”

She shakes her head. “I was supposed to, but I asked my boss and she said I should stay here today, instead.”

I reach for one of the mugs of coffee and hand it to her before taking my own. “Your boss sounds very smart.” When she giggles at that, I run a hand over her bare thigh and give it a squeeze. “Especially since you’re wearing these little cat panties I love so much. I was hoping I’d get to see these again.

She makes a little face over her coffee mug. “What do you mean, again?”

I take a drink from my own mug and give her a crooked smile. “You already gave me a nice little show in them before. Although I definitely prefer you wearing my shirt over them instead of my brother’s.”

“What…wait…you remember that? You were wasted drunk!”

I roll my eyes at her. “No amount of alcohol would let me forget you standing half-naked in my doorway trying to look mad but not really succeeding.”

She scoffs at me. “I was mad! You were being obnoxious!”

“Right. And you weren’t being obnoxious when you decided to put on that little vocally-driven performance right afterward?”

That makes her break and laugh, and she leans in to give me a kiss. “You know why I did that, right?”

“To torture me until I considered stabbing a pencil into my ears?” I deadpan.

“No…” she smirks. “For one, I wanted to piss you off and make you jealous. Show you what you were missing out on.”

“Uh-huh…well mission accomplished.”

“And two, well, there was a reason I was acting much more spirited than usual.”

“Spirited? It sounded like you were possessed.”

She runs a hand down my chest. “Maybe I was thinking of someone else at the time.”

I like where this is going and I raise my eyebrows before taking a sip of my coffee. “Go on. I like the turn this story is taking.”

“Well, I won’t go into detail, but just know that all of those noises you heard, were caused by you.”

I set my mug down and then grab hers to do the same. With my hands free, I pull her closer to me while I slip a finger into the waistband of her underwear and snap it against her skin.

“Naughty girl,” I murmur before kissing her hard on the mouth.

“Maybe so,” she says when she pulls away, “But, I’m willing to bet that gave you some nice material to use for a few lonely nights?”

When I pull her by her hips over my lap, there is no way she is missing the growing hard-on I’ve got going on under the sheets. “Baby, you have no idea how much material that gave me.”

Before I can get too involved with my roaming hands and mouth, she stops me by pulling back. My eyebrows crease together and my lips form a tight line with annoyance. I don’t like not being able to indulge in an early morning bone session at the moment. Especially when she’s sitting here, grinding her tight little ass against said bone.

“Before you get too carried away, and before you start pouting any more than you already are, I have to show you something.”

“Is it under your panties?”

She sighs and rolls her eyes at me. “No.” Then she reaches over and takes something off the tray. She hands me a book and when I look at it, I see it’s the book we read together. Love In The Time Of Cholera. And it’s not just any copy, it’s my exact one.

I look up at her in surprise. “This is mine! I’ve been looking everywhere for it. I thought I lost it when I moved.”

She shrugs and smiles shyly. “I may have stolen it from your room before.”

“You stole it from me?”

“Kind of. After we were done reading it, I put it in my bag because I wanted to take it home to reread it again. And I meant to tell you and bring it back when I was done. But then you decided to be the world’s biggest asshole…”

“Yeah, I know that part, we don’t need to rehash that again.”

“Well, anyway, I forgot it was in there and I left with it. So, there it has stayed, in my bag for the past six months. Which is how it ended up here again because I brought my bag with me when I left work last night.”

I turn the book over in my hands and smile. “I love this book. For obvious reasons.”

“So…will you read to me?” she asks, just like she did before, with the big eyes and the pouty lip.

“You want me to read this again? Are you sure? Because there are a lot of other things I can think of that we could be doing right here, right now, in this bed.”

She shakes her head, and then climbs off my lap, taking her coffee cup, and then snuggling up next to me under the covers. “I want to lie right here next to you, all warm and cozy, while you read our book to me with that super sexy voice of yours.”

I smile and kiss her forehead. “Well, when you flatter me like that, how can I resist?” I start to settle in and open the book. “And then…”

She sighs. “Yes, and then you may use me to take care of that giant bed snake I felt stabbing me in the leg just now.”

“I’m going to remember you said ‘giant’, by the way.”

“Just read the damn book, Five.”

“Yes, my darling. Anything for you.”

Chapter Nine: Hey Daddy

“Five!” you yell from the bedroom, as you’re on your hands and knees, frantically searching under the bed. “Where are my shoes?”

You hear his voice from the other room. “How the hell do I know?”

“Well, can you come here and help me look for them? I’m going to be late!”

After a few seconds, Five comes striding casually into the room, holding out a pair of strappy black heels that are dangling from his fingers. “Looking for these?”

“Oh! Yes, thank you! Where were they?”

“One was on the kitchen counter and the other was lying on the sofa.”

You give an exasperated sigh as you start tugging them onto your feet, using Five’s shoulder to steady yourself so you don’t tip over. “How in the world…I am a walking disaster this morning!”

When you get your shoes on, you straighten up and tug your clothes down, then you smooth your hair. Your nerves and scattered brain are obvious and Five grabs your hands in his. You can see he’s trying not to laugh at you.

“Hey, everything is going to be fine. You’re supposed to be having fun. It’s a celebration, remember? Not a tax audit.”

You give him a strained smile and you’re dying to start picking at your fingernails, but he’s got your hands held tight. “I know, but there’s just so much to do. I have to make sure all of the food is there, and the gifts for my staff and the music…” Five gives your hands a squeeze when he sees you starting to panic again.

“You’ve gone over everything a million times, it’s all done. All you have to do now is show up, be your delightful, albeit slightly neurotic self, and celebrate your one-year anniversary of ownership.”

“You’re right,” you sigh.

“As always.”

You give him an irritated look at his response, but you only receive a smirk in return. Then he leans in to kiss you and suddenly you feel a little more relaxed.

“You’re going to come by later?” you ask him.

“Absolutely. I want to hear you make your big speech, and also snag some of that good champagne we bought. I can’t let all of that go to waste on the riff-raff over there.”

“They are not riff-raff, they are my loyal customers.”

“If Klaus is there, they are riff-raff.”

You laugh. “That’s true. He said he was coming and bringing friends.”

“See?”

“Well, anyway, don’t be late. What are you doing before then?”

“Going to visit Leroy and Mr. Featherbottom the Third. They’ll be expecting me.”

After a deep sigh and a look up, while you mutter under your breath, you look back at Five. “You’re naming them now?”

“Well, not all of them, that’s ridiculous. Just the frequent flyers.” A giant grin spreads across his face. “Get it?”

“Oh, I get it alright. I get that my boyfriend is a certifiable nutcase and is starting to name pigeons at the park.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“I’m jealous of some dirty old pigeons?”

“Yes. You’re jealous because I have to split my time between you and my feathered friends and you can’t handle the competition.”

You let out another frustrated sigh, but your exterior is starting to crack and you can’t help smiling as you pull your hands away from his and put them on his shoulders. “I can assure you, my sexy old man, that I am not jealous. Because if I were, that would mean you’d be doing something much weirder with those birds than feeding them in the park, and if that’s the case we need to have a long talk. And I don’t have time for that right now.”

He gives your cheeks a squeeze and kisses you on the mouth. “I promise you are the only one, human or non-human, that I am doing weird things with.”

“Glad to hear it. Now, I need to get going, so tell Mr. Featherbutt…”

“Bottom.”

“Whatever…tell him I said hi and I’ll see you later today, ok?”

“I’ll be there.”

You start looking around the room. “Now where the hell are my car keys, I know I just had them.”

Five fishes around in his pants pocket and pulls out your keys, holding them up in front of you with that know-it-all look of his.

“Damn it! Where were they?” you ask as you snatch them out of his hand.

“In the dishwasher.”

“In the dish…what in the hell is wrong with me today?”

Five shakes his head. “I’m not sure, but you are so damn cute, you know that?”

You give him a hasty kiss on the cheek and then you’re hurrying out the door. “Yes, I know I am, but thank you for reminding me. Love you!”

The anniversary party for your café has been planned for weeks. You never had a grand opening celebration, since you had just taken it over from the previous owner, but you decided you needed to mark the occasion somehow. Five had helped you with the planning, which ended up being extremely helpful and annoying at the same time. As it turns out, which was not a huge surprise, an uptight man with attention to detail and a lot of spare time on his hands can be a bit much. But he really did take care of a good portion of it, so you were very thankful in the end.

On your drive in to work, you let your mind wander and start thinking about how happy you are at this point in your life. Your business is profitable, you have a good staff that likes and respects you, and you are no longer lonely. Only a few weeks after your reunion, you had moved in with Five. Everyone you had told at the time had thought you were crazy and moving way too fast, but you knew deep down that it was the right choice. You two were happy together and neither of you were going anywhere. So, it just made sense.

Now it was six months later and you had never been so in love. He had not broken his promise of making sure you were always taken care of and he did everything in his power to make you happy. Not that you needed much. You made sure he was content with your life together, too. And even though his old man tendencies sometimes tried your patience, you were happy if he was happy. The amazing sex was an added bonus.

The party was supposed to be an all-day event, with free coffee, music, and glasses of champagne for every customer. Then, you were going to close early and have the party continue for just your staff. They were as much of a part of the success of your business as you were, and you want them to feel appreciated. The staff party was when Five was supposed to drop by.

The event goes well and when Five does walk in, you catch him out of the corner of your eye while you’re deep in conversation with someone. You are drawn immediately out of it, though, when you do a double take as he stands across the room, watching you and waiting for you to finish. You’re pretty sure your jaw drops open and you feel your heart start to beat faster.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself as you rudely blow off the person you are talking to and start heading in Five’s direction.

He is dressed impeccably in a black, three-piece, tailored suit and black tie. His hair has been freshly cut and combed neatly into place. And he smells amazing. For a second, all you can do is stare and you feel like you’re back in the apartment when you were dating Klaus and you were eyeing him up from afar, imagining dirty scenarios about the two of you. Then you snap out of it and remember he’s yours now, even if you still find yourself imagining dirty scenarios.

You run the palms of your hands down the front of his suit coat and down to his waist before bringing them up again, grabbing his tie and smoothing it down.

“Hey, Daddy,” you say quietly while looking up at him hungrily.

When he draws a line down your cheek with the back of his finger, you shiver. “Hello, darling.” He places a hand on your chin and raises your face up before leaning down to kiss you sensually. You hope the sound you made wasn’t audible by anyone else because it is embarrassingly pathetic. Five pulls back with a satisfied smirk because he knows he looks fucking good and that you’re weak in the knees for him right now.

“Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?” he asks like the giant asshole he is.

“You look amazing…and I think you know it.”

Five shrugs and puts his hands in his pants pockets, which only accentuates the lean lines of his body even more. He looks around cooly and then back at you. “Thank you, but I was just trying to clean up a little for your special occasion. I didn’t want to come in here looking like a bum.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for you to look like a bum, but you most definitely went above and beyond with this suit.” You can’t help but run your hands down his chest again. “Damn it, Five, this isn’t fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

You look around to make sure no one is close enough to hear you. “How badly I want to take you into the back room so you can fuck me against a wall right now.”

He laughs. “Since I know you want to remain professional at the moment, how about this? I will most definitely fuck you against any wall you wish once we get home later tonight.”

“I can live with that, I suppose. I just want you to know, though, that you are the hottest man in here by a mile and I have already seen at least two women checking you out.”

“Is that so?” he asks with a quirk of his brow. He looks around the room. “Which ones?”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, your hotness factor is starting to diminish now.”

“Yours hasn’t,” he tells you before kissing you again.

Just then, Klaus enters the shop. You can see he has dressed for the occasion as well, with fitted red velvet pants that flare at the bottom and a flowy green shirt that is halfway unbuttoned down the front. It should be a hideous outfit, but Klaus makes it look good. You can already see a few people eyeing him up. When he sees you and Five, he makes his way over.

“Hey there,” he says as he saunters up. “Well, don’t you two look adorable? Kind of makes me nostalgic for the good old days, if you know what I’m saying.”

Klaus leans in to give you a quick kiss and Five scowls at him. “Watch it.”

Klaus puts a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “My dear brother, have no fear. I wasn’t suggesting anything lewd between me and your lady love.” He pauses and smiles while looking Five up and down. “You are most definitely included in the equation, too, you sexy bastard.”

Five gives an exacerbated huff. “Klaus, you’re disgusting.”

“Why thank you!” Klaus turns to look at you. “Great job, by the way, I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks, Klaus,” you say.

“Now, I heard there was booze here?”

You laugh. “Yes, the champagne is over there. Help yourself.”

“I shall,” Klaus replies as he floats away in the direction of the table loaded with flutes of sparkling wine. You watch as one of your employees immediately rushes over to him, and within thirty seconds Klaus already has his arm around the lucky man. You laugh and shake your head. He really does have a way of charming everyone he meets.

After a few more minutes, you make sure everyone has a glass and you take one for yourself before you head to the front of the room, facing the small crowd of coworkers and friends. Klaus and his new boy toy go over to stand next to Five.

“Excuse me, everyone?” you start, gathering the group’s attention until the room is quiet and all eyes are on you. You suddenly feel very nervous, even though all of these people are close to you and they feel like family. Your gaze drifts to Five standing at the back of the room, and he gives you an encouraging smile.

“I just had a few brief words to say about marking this one-year anniversary of the café. I want to thank every single person in this room for all of their hard work and dedication. Without you, we would not be the success we have become today. I love my job and I love my staff, which is much more than most people can say about their work. You are all truly wonderful and I cannot thank you enough.”

Everyone claps at that and when the noise dies down again, you continue on.

“I also need to thank someone else, and that is my very supportive, yet mildly abrasive boyfriend.” When you see Five react with surprise, you smile. “Five, you are truly the love of my life and I owe a lot of my success to you, too. You make me a more confident person and I always know that you will have my back. Plus, I have become pretty good at conflict resolution because of you, since living with you every day has its definite conflicts.”

You laugh when he gives you an exhausted look. “But I wouldn’t change any of it, because you are my rock and I love you so much. Thank you for loving me back.”

There is a chorus of “aws” throughout the room. Five has a combined expression of embarrassment, pride, and love on his face. You watch as Klaus nudges him with his shoulder in a fond gesture.

You continue on with a smile. “Because I love you so much, I was trying to think of a new name for the place that would be a little tribute to you. The obvious name would be ‘Cholera and Coffee’, but I have a feeling that would not be good for business.” Everyone laughs, including Five. “Then I thought of ‘Bean My Baby’, since I know that’s your favorite song.” Five raises an eyebrow at you. “Then it was ‘The Old Man And The Tea’, but that was too long.”

“In the end, I decided on ‘Books, Love, and Coffee’, because you don’t know this yet, but I am going to add a small library of classic romance books to the store so that customers can sit and enjoy their drinks while they read about love. And hopefully, it will inspire them to find someone perfect for themselves, just like we have done.”

You can see Five get a little misty-eyed after you say that, and you have to control your happy tears, as well. After you finish your little speech with a toast to everyone, you go back over to Five where he immediately pulls you in close with an arm around your waist. He kisses you softly and looks deeply into your eyes.

“The Old Man And The Tea? Really?” he says dryly.

You laugh. “Come on, you have to admit that’s funny.”

“It’s not.”

You squeeze his cheeks in with your hand, just like he had done to you earlier and you plant a big kiss on his lips. “My grumpy old man…I love you.”

He tries to look irritated, but that makes his face squish together even more, which gets you giggling again before you let go.

“I love you, too. Against my better judgment,” he says.

“So, what do you think of my new idea with the library?”

“I think it’s great. I know you’ll make it work and it will draw more people in.”

“I might need your help with some logistical things.”

“I’d be happy to help, you know that. I’m always here for you.”

“I know that,” you smile. Then your eyes travel down his body again and suddenly you’re not thinking about the café anymore. You kind of wish everyone else would get the fuck out so he could pound you into one of the tables, health code violation be damned.

“We need to get home soon,” you tell him with a hand on his chest. “I can’t keep looking at you in this suit without having some very inappropriate thoughts.”

Five smirks and pulls you in closer, his hand rubbing up and down your back, making your skin tingle. “Yes, we do need to get home. I’m going to need details of these inappropriate thoughts and then we can work on making them happen.”

When you two arrive back home, it’s late and you’re exhausted. You kick off your heels in the middle of the living room, prompting Five to pick them up with a heavy sigh and place them neatly near the door.

“I need to shower,” you tell him.

His mouth turns up in a mischievous smile. “Is that an invitation?”

“I’ll let you decide.”

Once you are in the shower and you have washed the grime of the day off of you, you start to wonder if Five is going to join you in there after all. You are just about to turn the water off and step out when you shriek loudly as your body is forced flat against the tile wall. Five is behind you, his body pressed against yours and his lips on the damp skin of your neck.

“What took you so long?” you say as you try to catch your breath.

“I was torturing myself by seeing how long I could hold out before blinking in here to violate you. Turns out, it’s really not that long.”

“Felt like a long time to me.”

“Sweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you…just ask for what you want and I’ll give it to you,” he murmurs against you.

His hands drift down your arms, encircling your wrists to hold them tightly. He’s in complete control of you, trapping you between the wall and his body, your arms pinned to your side. You turn your head and look over your shoulder as best you can. His gaze catches yours and he grins.

“Lucky for you, I happen to know exactly what you want right now.”

“Oh, do you? And what’s that?” you answer back with as much sass as you can manage with your face smashed against the wall.

You feel the heat of his mouth against your wet and rapidly cooling shoulder. He licks up the water droplets that cover it and you can feel his teeth scrape lightly across your skin. You don’t think you will ever get tired of feeling his mouth on you and right now you would let him do just about anything without hesitation. And you have no doubt that he does know exactly what you want right now.

His voice is dark and husky as he speaks next to your ear. “You want me to make you helpless. You want to be fucked hard and rough until you can’t take it anymore.” He pauses to push his hard cock against your ass. “You need me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whimper, and maybe you sound a little pathetic but you know he likes it.

Taking your wrists, he roughly yanks them over your head and pins them to the wall. “Beg me,” he demands, and the hardness in his voice sends shivers down your spine. “Beg me to fuck you. I want to hear it.”

“Please,” you whine.

He takes your wrists and pulls them away from the wall before slamming them against the tile again. You notice that he keeps his hands around you in such a way that you don’t get hurt by the impact.

“You want to try that again, princess?” he hisses, before biting the side of your neck with enough force to make you flinch.

“Please, Five…I need you.”

“Keep going. Beg for my cock.”

He starts pushing against you harder, and your tits are smashed into the wall almost to the point of pain. But the feeling of him behind you, grinding his hard cock against your ass is making you so damn wet that it hardly matters what the rest of your body is doing.

You give out a little cry and try and push your ass back into him, but he’s stronger than you and there’s no way you can move. “Please, Five, please. I need you to fuck me.”

Five reaches over and grabs some soap off the shower shelf. He holds onto your wrists with one hand, using plenty of his strength to keep you there. You feel his soapy hand drag between your cheeks, his finger stopping and rubbing over your tight hole, dipping just a little inside before pulling back again. Then he is sliding his dick between your ass cheeks, pumping it back and forth with a long groan.

“God, I could come just from this,” he rasps before biting and sucking at your shoulder again, his hips jerking and snapping against you from behind.

“No…” you whimper sadly. You would much rather him come somewhere else.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He slams his cock against you, the soap making it slide easily between your cheeks, rubbing over your hole. “You don’t want me to come like this? I thought you loved it when I cover that beautiful ass of yours with my cum.” His voice changes from sweet to menacing in a second and his hold on your wrists tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of the underside.

He doesn’t demand an answer from you this time. Instead, he asks you another question. “Tell me, darling…who else fucks you like I do? Who else makes you scream?”

“No one,” you moan out, louder than you meant to. You’re so desperate and you don’t care how pitiful you’re becoming just from some dirty words and a dick pressed against you. “Only you, Five.”

His self-satisfied smirk is evident against your shoulder as he passes his lips over one and then moves to the other. He’s teasing you mercilessly as your pussy gets slicker with each second.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that,” he muses.

He lets your wrists go, but it’s only so that he can grab your upper arms and spin you around so that you are facing him. His eyes are dark, and the spray from the water has dampened his hair. He takes one hand briefly off of you to slick it back off his forehead before he has you in his full grip again, your back flush against the wall. When he rubs his dick between your legs, you moan and close your eyes.

He suddenly drops to his knees in front of you, and there’s no time to react because he’s moved his hands to your wrists again. Once again, your arms are pinned against the wall. Five looks up at you with feral eyes.

He keeps his intense gaze on you, even as he gives a long, slow lick through your throbbing heat. The sound that comes out of your mouth is high-pitched and desperate as you jerk your hips into him.

“Ohhh…Five…”

He doesn’t give you anymore just yet but makes you sweat it out while he kneels before you and watches your face.

“Did you like that, baby? Want more?”

“Yes, fuck yes I want more!”

He gives one more long lick up through the middle and then he stops just like before, leaving you desperate. You push your hips into him again, but he pulls his head back just enough that you can’t make contact.

“I could do this all day; you taste so fucking good. Maybe I will,” he teases with a dirty smile before diving back in again for another long, single lick.

“Ohh…god…please, Fiiive…” You can barely stutter out a coherent sentence you’re aching so badly for him.

“I love hearing you beg for me. Fuck, that turns me on.” He runs his tongue over you again, one time. “Keep going, sweetheart.”

“Fuuck…Five, you’re not being fair.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” Another single lap wets your already-soaked sex as he drags his tongue over it. “But I really do like watching you squirm like this.” He licks you again. “And let’s not forget who’s in charge here. So, if I want to make you wait, I guess you’re waiting. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You tip your head back against the wall with a frustrated sigh. “Yes.”

Five resumes his torture for several more minutes, one agonizing lick at a time. He continues to hold your arms down and any time you try to push yourself into his face, he backs off. You’re dying to come, but he won’t let you, and the more he makes you wait, the more he gets off on it.

When you’re absolutely sure you’re going to die from lack of sexual satisfaction, and the water has run cold so that your skin is covered in goosebumps, he finally relents.

“I think I’ve made you wait long enough. What do you think? You want to come on my mouth or my dick?” he asks with a crooked smile.

Your chest is heaving and you try to answer the best you can in between gasping breaths. “Fuck…I don’t care…just…fuck me!” You’re practically screaming you’re so desperate.

“I think both,” he says, right before he covers your cunt with his entire mouth.

It hardly takes anything at all. As soon as he is sucking at your clit and tongue fucking your pussy, you are falling apart. This time he doesn’t stop when you’re bucking wildly against his face as your orgasm ripples throughout your body, but he does keep your arms restrained. Your cries are echoing off the shower walls and throughout the whole apartment. If the neighbors didn’t know Five’s name before, they sure as hell do now.

“Oh, fuck…oh fuck…oh my god…” you pant as you try to compose yourself just a little after your body stops shaking.

Five pulls away from you and stands up, letting go of your wrists as he gives you another direction.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls, before picking up one of your legs and wrapping it around his hip. He pushes his cock into you with one deep thrust. “I’d hang on if I were you.”

With that warning, he’s pounding into you hard and fast as you scramble for purchase on the slick shower floor with your one foot, grasping onto his shoulders for support. Your back is being slammed against the wall as he uses all of his strength to fuck you as hard as possible.

“I…fucking…love…you,” he tells you in between his grunts and groans.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, even as he is currently trying to destroy your body and smash it into a million pieces.

“Five, I love you,” you tell him as you’re hungrily trying to kiss him more and more.

You’re going to come again, you can feel it building inside of you, as he continues to penetrate you over and over again. He has one hand on your leg, holding you up, while the other is in your hair, alternating between pulling and stroking it.

Five is moaning as he talks to you. “Fuck, you feel amazing. I’ll never love anyone like I love you. Please, don’t ever leave. Ah fuck! Damn it, I’m going to marry you!”

It’s maybe not the best time for him to be confessing his undying love and proposing to you, but it doesn’t matter. You lock eyes with one another and you smile before you kiss him again. A few seconds later, you’re climaxing together, clutching onto one another, both of you wet, cold, and shivering. As soon as you are both finished, and he lets your leg down, Five reaches over and turns the water off. Without the sound of the shower going, it feels intimately quiet. You are still shaking from the cold and having just had two back-to-back orgasms when Five helps you step out and wraps a towel around your body. Then he pulls you in close again, holding you tight.

“I’m sorry, I know that was probably not—"

“My answer is yes, by the way. I know you didn’t actually ask me, but if you do, my answer will be yes.”

The smile that he flashes you is so full of love that it makes you want to melt into the bathroom rug at your feet. “Alright then. Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Five, I will marry you. I love you more than anything.”

Five lifts you up so that your feet are off the ground and he kisses you again. “I promise, I will give you everything you deserve.”

“I’m not even sure I deserve you, but I’m so lucky I have you. You make me happy every day.”

“Good. Because I plan on doing that for the rest of our lives.”

It is three months later and you are at home by yourself. Five has been out with his family most of the day. You know this usually pisses him off like nothing else, and he will most likely return in a foul mood. You don’t mind, though; you are used to dealing with his mood swings. The only difference today is that you can hardly wait until he gets home.

You can’t sit still and keep trying to sit down, only to pop up seconds later to do some mundane task like dusting the baseboards or scrubbing out the kitchen sink even though it was already clean. You really hope he gets home soon because you are majorly on edge and you feel like your brain is going a mile a minute, with a constant whir of thoughts and emotions running through it.

You are standing in the kitchen, wiping down the counters for the tenth time when you hear him appear inside the doorway with the familiar supernatural noise that you’ve come to associate with Five’s preferred form of transportation. And, as predicted, you can already hear him bitching and complaining to himself or anyone else that may be in the general vicinity.

When you walk out to the living room to find him, he is striding over to the liquor cabinet that resides there, taking out a crystal tumbler and filling it with a generous pour of bourbon. You watch as he slings some of it back with a grimace before looking over at you. He gives a tight smile, but you can tell he’s all wound up.

“These fucking morons! I swear, they get dumber by the day. Is it really that difficult to download the spreadsheets and charts that I have sent them all in preparation for our meeting today? And, per their request, I kept it under ten this time!”

He’s ranting in your general direction and you have to hold in your laughter so he doesn’t get even more pissed off. You perch yourself on the arm of one of the chairs.

“It’s really astounding the amount of stupidity they possess as individuals and as a group. I really don’t know why I waste my time on them.”

“Because you love them,” you offer matter-of-factly with a small smile.

Five scoffs in frustration, but he doesn’t deny it and seems to have stopped dwelling on the subject now. He takes another sip of his drink and when he lowers the glass, he manages a genuine smile.

“Sorry, this has nothing to do with you, really. I just needed to vent to someone.”

“I know. I’m used to being vented at by you.”

Five doesn’t comment on that, but he holds up his glass. “Do you want one?”

You shake your head and walk over to him. When you are standing in front of him, you can smell his usual scent of after-shave and general annoyance. You give him a kiss and you can immediately feel him start to morph into a normal, rational human again.

“How was your day, darling?” he asks after he kisses you back.

“It was good,” you say with a smile and a shrug.

“Nothing exciting happened, then?”

“Not really.” You reach up and give him another kiss. “But I did get some good news.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“Well, Daddy…I think we may need to move into a bigger apartment,” you say slyly while running a hand down his arm.

Five frowns and looks around. “Why? What’s wrong with this place?”

“You know, it’s kind of small, really only big enough for two people.”

Five is still looking at you with his eyebrows creased together and he takes another sip of his drink. “And last time I checked, we are only two people.”

You sigh but smile at him again. “Yes, we are right now. But what if there was another person here? Someone that we would love and take care of?”

“What do you mean?” Five puts his glass down and tilts his head. “Don’t tell me Klaus lost his apartment because he is not moving in here with us. I don’t care what sad story he told you. That is some history I do not need to repeat.”

“Christ,” you murmur under your breath, before trying again. “Listen very carefully, Five. Soon, it’s not going to be just the two of us. We’ll be a threesome.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with what you like to call his ��what the fuck’ face. “What are you talking about? Like a three-way? I don’t know, that’s pretty weird, and I’m not saying I never thought about it, of course, but…it still seems kind of awkward and where would we even meet a—”

“Jesus Fucking Crist, Five! For being a self-proclaimed genius, you are the densest person on the planet sometimes!” You run a hand down your face and try one more time, taking his hands and holding them tightly in yours. “Listen to my words. You are going to be a daddy. And not in the sexy way that you’re used to. Do you get it yet?”

He blinks down at you in confusion and you think you might need to resort to pulling up a PowerPoint presentation on the birds and bees when you see the lightbulb finally flick on. His eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead.

“Wait what? You’re…”

You smile and nod, squeezing his hands. “Yep, I’m pregnant. And I really hope you’re as excited about it as I am.”

Five brings his hands up to his face in disbelief and he nods. “Yes, yes, of course I’m excited. This is…I don’t even know what to say.”

You stand there for a few seconds while he processes everything. Then he suddenly grabs you and picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses you while your arms loop over his shoulders. When he pulls away, you can see the tears welling up in his eyes.

“I can’t believe this. Are you sure?”

You nod. “Yes, I’m very sure.”

He kisses you again and you start laughing just from the pure joy of the moment. There are actual tears running down Five’s face and you wipe them away with a gentle touch of your hand.

“You’re happy?” you ask.

He nods and smiles through his tears. “I’ve never been happier in my whole life. And I promise to love you and our child for the rest of my life. I’ll take care of both of you with everything I have.”

“I know you will, Five. Because that’s who you are. You take care of the people you love, even if you pretend to be an old grouch most of the time.”

“I am an old grouch, that’s true. However, I am willing to change and try to be a little less grouchy for the sake of our kid. And you.”

“Well, don’t change too much. I still want the same old man I fell in love with.”

Five kisses you and another tear slides down his cheek. “Sweetheart, I promise I will always be the same old man that you love. And you will always be the beautiful young woman who saw right through me and stole my heart with her relentless love and annoyance.”

“And I promise to always love and annoy you.”

He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes with a happy sigh. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Thank you everyone for reading! If you'd like to check out my other, Five-centric fics, here is my MasterList :)

@baileebear @myinnermonologueisepic

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