#sigh. i should make that post. actually no i should be shot instead
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The girl behind the bar : Epilogue
pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader
warnings: really fluffy
words: 1.4k
Summary: Jake has to talk to you about something kinda serious...
a/n: I TOTALLY forgot to post the epilogue last week, my apologies. Here it is now. Enjoy!
Link to my masterlist
“I think this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten”, you sighed after the first bite. Jake had taken you to that diner where he had interrupted your date once. You were finally able to get that burger he had but fresh out of the kitchen this time. And it was even better than you imagined.
“Oh god”, you said after the second bite, making Jake chuckle. “If you keep this up, I will not let you finish that burger”, he mentioned and his green eyes bore into yours while he licked his lips. He hadn’t even touched his burger yet.
“Yeah, like you’re able to get up right now”, you countered with a challenging smile and took another bite. His eyes shot down to his crotch for a second then he adjusted in his seat. Your smile widened.
“We should get chocolate cake after”, you suggested and wiggled your eyebrows. His face froze. “Stop it. Right now”, he advised you with a low voice but you could see that he was intrigued.
If there was something you could drive him even wilder was eating chocolate cake. He said he had never seen anything more sensual and then continued to lick it off your chin and other places he had put it on your body. Good thing you were at his place when it happened and it were his sheets that were ruined. But the sex was out of this world.
You shot him a wink and a smile before you ate some fries. Your feet were entangled under the table. You were now the couple you were often so sick of when you saw them in restaurants, bars or just on a bench in the park. But this was actually quite fun when you were on the other side.
“Listen, Y/N, I wanted to talk to you about something”, Jake started and seemed a bit nervous all of a sudden. You looked up from your plate. He still hasn’t touched his burger.
“Yeah?”, you encouraged him as he didn’t continue right away. “Uhm, it’s about work”, he continued and it was almost awkward how nervous he got. It definitely made you nervous, too.
“Jake, what is it? You’re making me nervous”, you stated, chuckling. “Sorry, that wasn’t my intention. I wanted to talk to you about…”, “Hey! Hangman, Y/N!”, you heard behind you and turned around.
It was Rooster, Payback and Fanboy. Bob and Phoenix were already shipped off to Miramar for their next assignment. The group was coming over to you. “Hey, are you guys on a date?”, Rooster asked as he arrived at your table and immediately sat down on the bench next to you, pushing you down a seat. Payback sat down next to Hangman and Fanboy pulled up a chair.
“We were”, you told him. “Cool. Now it’s a group hang”, Rooster said and started eating some fries off your plate. “Hey, get your own food”, you told him and grabbed your plate, turning away from him. This burger was too good to share. “Sorry”, Jake mouthed and pulled a face. “We need new friends”, you said out loud, not caring if you hurt their feelings. They had just interrupted your date.
“No, we need more of those burgers”, Rooster said and turned around to wave at the waitress.
You ended up having an improtu group dinner but Jake managed to get the two of you out of there just when you had finished eating, leaving the guys with the bill as payback. Instead of going straight back to his place like you had expected, he drove to Pacific Beach and invited you to a walk on the beach.
You took your shoes off and carried them in your hand, feeling the sand between your toes as you walked next to Jake. For a little while, the two of you didn’t talk and just enjoyed the view and each other’s company.
You walked a few steps towards the water and ran back to Jake when the waves came in, trying not to get your dress wet. The last one came quite close and you squealed as you hurried back to Jake. He caught you in his arms and pressed a kiss to your lips while you smiled big.
You put your arms around his neck and kissed him back. His hands settled on your hips.
“You good?”, you asked him when you pulled back and your hand caressed his cheek. “With you in my arms, I’m always good”, he replied and gave you another kiss. “Aw, so cheesy”, you chuckled and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Back at the diner, you wanted to talk about something before we got so rudely interrupted”, you reminded him. Jake’s facial features hardened at your words and underneath your hands, you could feel how his body tensed up.
“Jake, come on. You’re really scaring me right now”, you told him and tried to keep a brave face but you got increasingly worried the longer his silence went on. You let go of him and took a step back.
“I wanted to talk to you about work”, Jake finally spoke. “Okay”, you said slowly.
“I already put in two requests to prolong my stay at North Island and I can't put it off any longer”, he told you and your stomach turned. Was he breaking up with you?
“They're sending me overseas”, he told you and your heart sank so fast, it almost knocked you off your feet. Your shoes fell out of your hand. No. This couldn’t be happening.
“And I would really love for you to come with me”, he continued.
You looked at him with big eyes. You weren't even living together yet and you're supposed to leave the country with him?
“I don't even know where exactly they're sending me yet and it's only temporary. But I asked if I can bring someone and they said yes, so, it's not gonna be somewhere dangerous, so, I think...”, he finally realized that he was rambling and you were overly quiet.
He took your hands in his and took a step closer to you.
“I know it's quick, we're moving five times the speed you're provably supposed to do this, but I'm so sure about us. I haven't felt about anyone the way I feel about you and I just think that this could really work out between us. If you don't wanna come, which I can totally understand, we can do the long-distance thing. It's not gonna be ideal but anything is better than not being with you one way or another”, Jake declared and just about stopped himself. The puppy eyes he was giving you were almost too much to bear.
“Yes”, you finally said. The expression on his face turned hopeful yet hesitant.
“Yes as in...”, he asked.
“Yes, this is super quick and yes, long distance would be less ideal”, you began and his face dropped. Your stomach turned nervously when you took a deep breath. You couldn't believe what you were about to say.
“And yes, I will go with you wherever they send you because I don't care how fast we are moving, we're fucking great together and I'm not ready to have our story end just like that”, you told him.
“Really?”, his voice was shaky, unsure, trying to hide his excitement just in case he hadn't heard you right.
“Really”, you nodded and the next second his lips were on yours. His arms wrapped around you and held you close, never wanting to let you go ever again. It felt like forever until you pulled back.
“I've known you pretty much since the day I came to San Diego and even though you annoyed the hell out of me when we first met, I simply can't picture this place without you”, you added. He put his forehead against yours.
“Don't let me regret this, Hangman”, you told him.
“Never”, he lightly shook his head against your skin.
“I love you, Y/N”, Jake said.
“Good, 'cause I love you, too, Jake Seresin and I will literally follow you to the end of the world”, you said and closed your eyes for a moment.
My god, you were really doing this. There was no place you'd rather be than with him.
a/n: okay, but this time, it's really over. Their story might only be beginning, but our window into their little world is closed now.
Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, liking and just the amazing experience The girl behind the bar has been!
#jake hangman seresin#the girl behind the bar#jake hangman seresin x plus-size reader#glen powell#glen powell imagine#jake hangman seresin imagine#topgun maverick
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Might need to unironically make that frame by frame analysis of Majima's expressions in the final scene with Makoto in yakuza 0 im being so fr ive been thinking of that for like a Week
#AUGHHHHH#HE DOESNT SAY ANYTHING BUT HIS FACE JUST MANAGES TO BETRAY HIS FEELINGS#YOU CAN SEE IT. THE WAY HE SHIFTS THROUGH A RANGE OF EMOTIONS IN THE SPAN OF LIKE 5 SECONDS#ITS SO FUCKED UP#THERES A POINT WHERE HE JUST EVER SO SLIGHTLY SMILES AT HER#AT THE HOPE THAT MAKOTO MIGHT REMEMBER HIM. IF NOT FOR HIS FACE THEN MAYBE HIS ACTIONS#AND. AND THEN THE WAY HIS FACE FALLS AFTERWARDS AND HE LOOKS HURT#I FUCKING. JTS FUCKED UP MAB#the facial expression animations in y0 specifically are so good i think abt this all the time#AND IT CULMINATES IN THAT CUTSCENE. TRUST#hmghh majimfa...#TGAT LAST CUTSCENE MAKES ME SO SICK ITS SO NOT FUNNY EVERYTHING ABOUT IT#THE MUSIC. EVERYTHING MAJIMA FUCKING DOES. UGH#i need like a printed out picture of him to crumple up and pour milk on#or a cardboard cutout to beat up. idfk i Hate Him i need to analyze him so bad#that scene in the actual-final cutscene of the game where makoto is listening to the music box on her watch#and it fade transitions to majima walking in kamurocho alone with it playing in the bg#(before it gets gay)#i hate him when i get back to kiwami i need to beat him up everytime i see him in the streets#so that he wont be alone of course. Haha#sigh. i should make that post. actually no i should be shot instead
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Okay, let's talk about the sex scene. This is going to be a quite lengthy post but bear with me. I've been keeping this in for the past 2 days.
1. In the beginning of the Paris hotel scene, Henry did say that they should make love. Keyword: "make love". There's a difference between fucking and making love.
2. Alex was a bit nervous because it was his first time to do this. In the book, they just do blowjobs during their first few encounters and it's also the same in the movie. Alex hasn't tried any sex with penetration, especially with a man. But Henry was so understanding, he guided Alex physically and emotionally how to exactly make love.
3. The sigh that Henry let out after guiding Alex with his hand to push down deeper... that was so fucking cinematic and perfect! He literally was teaching Alex to learn his body, when to move, and what pleasures him. Also, that little nod he did once Alex was inside him, that's consent!
4. Matthew Lopez (director) and Robbie Taylor Hunt (intimacy coordinator) did a great job in showing Alex and Henry's vulnerability. They focused more on their emotions instead of using a wide shot from one side. Mind you, this is not porn. This is a romance film! If you want to see two hot men fuck, then I suggest you fire up your incognito browser and load those porn vids. Again, go back to my point on #1 just in case you're forgetting something.
5. The point of the sex scene is to show the building mutual trust and affection between Henry and Alex. I can't emphasize this enough that we don't get a lot of queer media with this kind of intimate scene. Most (not all) of queer sex scenes (that I have seen) are always heated and rushed. I don't mind those actually but if you're gonna let me choose which one I'd prefer, I'd choose this one.
6. Taylor and Nick did a great job in portraying the blooming love between A&H. The early stages of love is always delicate. So it's given that they'd be more gentle towards each other.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Now stream the movie again on Prime Video!
#red white and royal blue#rwrb movie#taylor zakhar perez#hrh prince henry#nicholas galitzine#rwrb#lgbtq#firstprince#alex claremont diaz
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The Roommate (Dark!Ticci Toby x F!Reader)
NSFW One-shot
Author's note: This is my first time writing smut, so sorry if this turned out bad. It's also way longer than I thought, hopefully there aren't any spelling errors. Cross posted on my AO3 account.
Warnings: Swearing. Toby being creepy, he hurts the reader, blood kink? unprotected sex, creampie, biting, it's just... a lot. (4,519 words) - Minors DNI!
___________________________________________________________
Your brother hated his new roommate.
From what you gathered from the phone calls you two had, you knew he kept to himself, was kind of creepy and left the occasional mess in the kitchen. Your brother had tried to include him when he went out with his other college friends, but he always refused. The guy was gone at odd hours during the night, and smelled like dirt and pine.
You told him it was his own fault for posting an ad for a roommate on Craigslist.
It wasn’t all bad though. He paid his rent on time, always in cash - which he slipped under your brother's bedroom door at the end of every month. Plus, he had insisted on not signing any formal documentation. The lease they had was just a last minute document drawn up for a short term stay.
Your brother would only have to put up with him for 6 months. Then he’d be gone.
But hey, beggars can’t be choosers. And your brother needed someone to pick up part of the rent last minute.
After a few months it had seemed like he’d grown accustomed to the strange ‘twitchy’ man he lived with, that is, until you told him your plans to visit.
You finally got some time off, and it was the only chance you’d get to see him. So when all the hotels in the area were fully booked you were not about to give up. And….your brother’s place had a perfectly good couch available, right?
He was reluctant at first, but after much pleading, he finally agreed.
On one condition.
Stay away from Toby.
You figured he was just being overprotective. It was kind of sweet, but he’d never been that adamant about you not talking to someone before. There must have been something seriously messed up with the guy. And to be perfectly honest, it made you second guess whether you’d actually go through with the trip out there.
But you already bought the plane ticket, and you couldn’t let that money go to waste.
So now you sat in the passenger seat of your brother's truck, the two of you making idle chit chat as he drove you back to his place from the airport.
He talked about school, the classes he was taking, what parties he’d been going to, and fraternities he’d been considering joining. That last part earned him some of your teasing about becoming a beer pong loving, “Frat Bro”.
Only after a few beats of silence, you decided to ask him something that had been bugging you since your arrival.
“Your roommate knows I’m staying at your place, right?”
It was a simple enough question. The last thing you wanted was to intrude on someone else’s living space after all.
You saw your brother grip the steering wheel harder. “Yeah. Toby should know you’re coming.�� His response was curt and lacking his previous joyful tone.
“You two fighting or something?”
Your brother sighed. “No just,” He paused for a moment, and glanced at you. “He’s been acting weirder than usual.”
“Weird how?”
He didn’t say anything for a while, instead mulling over his choice of words. Not wanting to scare you, but still wanting to give you a heads up of the situation. “He’s been talking to himself. A lot.”
“That’s not that bad. Lots of people do that.” You don’t know why you felt the need to defend a person you hadn’t met yet.
Another pause. This one is longer than before.
“You haven’t heard what he’s been saying.”
______________________________________________________________
The road ahead was dark, lit up by the dim headlights of the car. The only thing out here now was trees, broken up by the occasional house. It was definitely far from campus.
The driveway was gravel, the truck rocking back and forth from the potholes and uneven terrain, finally coming to a stop in front of the house. Painted a dull plain white, one story, rather small, but it would do. It’s not like you were expecting a mansion.
After the car came to a stop, you grabbed your luggage from the backseat, following your brother to the front door where he quickly unlocked it.
The living room was sparsely decorated, with an old brown couch in the center, a small television and a coffee table littered with cans and half finished drinks.
It completely lacked a homey vibe. Definitely felt like a typical bachelor pad. You nudged his shoulder. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
“Hey, I’m not majoring in interior design.” Your brother shot back, beginning to walk away past the kitchen, calling out to you. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
Your eyebrows furrowed with a look of disappointment. “Already? I thought we’d, like…. watch TV or something?”
“Next time don’t get such a late flight.” His face stretched into a yawn. “There’s plenty of blankets in the closet. Try not to make too much noise.” Disappearing behind the door of his bedroom, he left you standing in the room alone with your bags.
Time for bed I guess.
You sprawled yourself out on the couch, placing a pillow on the armrest, and rolled out the fuzzy blanket you’d found over your body. You turned to face the front door. The room was pitch black, with a few beams of moonlight split up by the venetian blinds.
You picked up your phone from the coffee table by your side, figuring you could watch a few videos before you fell asleep.
The screen lit up, temporarily blinding you before your eyes adjusted. Mindlessly, you scrolled through youtube to find a thumbnail that would spark any interest.
You were about to click one, when you heard someone at the front door. Your eyes widened briefly, and you quickly shut your phone off. You don’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a kid and your mom was coming into your room to see if you were actually asleep. But it felt like you needed to shut your eyes.
So you did.
The door opened slowly, whoever it was trying to remain undetected.
However, the scent that followed gave them away immediately. You actually had to stop yourself from reacting. It was a mixture of BO, dirt, and something else. Something dead.
Without even having to look, you knew it was Toby.
Footsteps, careful and calculated. The floorboards creaking.
You waited for him to walk by, expecting him to go to his room so you could continue playing on your phone.
But he didn’t.
The movements stopped halfway through, and you heard him, on the balls of his feet, making his way over to the couch you were on.
The fuck?
You felt your throat dry up. You wanted to swallow down your nerves, but you couldn’t react. You had to continue pretending, right?
You could hear him, his voice low and soft, like velvet. A boyish tone, the occasional word being broken up by some kind of stutter, muttering things you couldn’t make out.
He stopped when he got to your side, standing right in front of your face.
If you opened your eyes right now you’d probably see him peering down. His jeans dirty and torn, honey brown stare filled with curiosity, looking at the glimpses of your curves that peaked through the blanket on top of you.
A hand reached out.
Cold, yet somehow clammy… texture rough and calloused.
He was touching you.
He was touching your face.
Don’t move. Don’t you dare even flinch.
“M-must be the ssss-sister…”
That was the first clear sentence you could understand.
He retracted his hand. But you could still hear him, the heavy breathing.
His whispering.
“Soft”
Then he left.
Only afterwards did you realize you’d been holding your breath.
______________________________________________________________
“You look awful.” Your brother commented when he saw you the next morning.
It was true that you barely slept that night, made obvious by the bags under your eyes, and the change in your complexion. The interaction with the stranger, the one you’d been warned of, had plagued your mind, stirring up thoughts that kept you awake.
You grabbed a coffee mug, pouring yourself a glass, before joining your brother at the kitchen table.
From this angle, you had a clear view of the hallway. There were three doors, one must have led to the bathroom, and the other remaining two were the bedrooms.
You only stared at one of the doors though. The one leading to Toby’s room.
You knew, at some point he’d emerge and you’d finally be able to put a face to the name. A face to the hand that touched you.
For a moment, you wondered if you should tell your brother what happened. He’d probably flip out, maybe even confront the man.
So, despite your better judgment, you decided to keep it to yourself.
He only touched your face. Sure, it was creepy as hell, but you didn’t want to cause a fight during your vacation.
Your brother clapped his hands together, getting your attention.
“So listen!” He grinned widely. “We gotta plan out the strategy for tonight.”
“Strategy?” You asked hesitantly.
“Yeah strategy. There’s a party I want to go to. Kappa Alpha is hosting it.”
You tsked, sipping your coffee. “You realize I don’t know anything about the frats here. Is that like… a popular one or?”
He nodded. “Yeah it is. I’ve been trying to get into this one for a while now, so getting the invite is a big deal.”
You frowned. You were already so tired, and the idea of going to a kegger was not exactly on your ‘to do’ list. But it was important to him. So you complied.
“Okay. What time does it-”
A door opened. You stopped talking.
Your eyes widened to look over towards the sound.
Toby was up.
The first thing you noticed was a mop of dark brown hair, unkempt, with curls that went in every direction. It was slightly greasy too, he clearly hadn’t showered in a while. There was light stubble on his jawline, and his skin was a sickly, almost gray color. A snake bite graced his lower lip, and there were a few more pieces of metal sticking out the cartilage of his ears.
He shuffled forward, looking tired, still in a pair of plaid green pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with little alien faces on them.
Once he made it into the kitchen, Toby finally glanced over. You looked away immediately, embarrassed that you were caught staring.
He was handsome. You hated to admit it. But he was. You pushed the thought out of your head, reminding yourself of who he was.
“Muh-morning….” He croaked out.
Your brother gave a little nod, just enough to acknowledge him, turning back to you while Toby started toasting a poptart.
“It starts at 9, but we should show up at 10 o'clock. I don’t want to look too eager.”
“Whuh-what starts at 9?” Toby interjected.
Both you and your brother looked at him, before nervously meeting each other's gaze.
“Oh uh!” Your brother stammered. “Just another party.” He motioned over to you with his thumb. “This is my sister, (Y/N), by the way.”
Toby’s eyes bore into yours. You swallowed, trying to give him a polite, reassuring smile.
“Nice to meet you…. Toby, right?”
You acted unsure. Like you didn’t know his name by heart. Like you hadn’t had your brother vent to you about him for hours over the phone.
“Yuh-yeah. That’s right.” He looked back at your brother. “Is the puh-party tonight?”
“Yeah it’s at a frat house. Did you…” He hesitated, before finally asking him. “Want to come?”
Toby bit his poptart, shrugging his shoulders. “I've guh-got nothing better tuh-to do.” The twitching man looked back at you, wiping some crumbs from his lip. He didn’t have emotion behind his eyes, just a weird intense focus on your face.
You pretended to be unbothered.
It didn’t work.
He noticed.
And he liked the way you squirmed.
______________________________________________________________
Toby stayed in his room the rest of the day. Occasionally going into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, usually some kind of junk food, before he’d scurry back into his little cave.
You started getting ready as soon as the sun went down. It’d been a while since you’d been to a party and you wanted to look your best. Or look like you got a full 8 hours of sleep at the very least.
Toby said he’d meet you guys there. Saying something about how he needed ‘to take care of something first’. No one questioned him. Both you and your brother glad not to have to share a car ride with him.
Loud bumping music, the kind that shook a house and pounded in your chest, enveloped you when you walked inside the frat house.
Flashing lights, a crowd in the middle of the dancefloor jumping up and down. The air was hot from too many people in a room at once. You could barely move through them all to get to the bar.
God you were going to need a drink to get through this.
Maybe even a couple.
Especially after your brother left you alone to go mingle.
One tequila shot, then two maybe three rum and cokes later. You didn’t even know how long you’d been there. Time seemed to freeze. There was only the music, only the dancing, only the bodies moving against you.
You felt hot. Your cheeks burned, and it wasn’t just from the temperature of the room anymore. The room spinned a little when you walked forward. Not enough to consider yourself completely wasted though. But enough to feel…. Friendlier.
More social.
Less inhibited.
Numb.
After a lot of struggling, you made your way to the back of the room.
You leaned against a wall, catching your breath, holding a red solo cup in your hand. You could hear people trying to hold conversations by shouting over the music.
And there were plenty of people making out. In fact, you’d say the majority of people were just straight up groping each other.
It made you a little jealous if you were being honest with yourself.
You looked around, wondering if maybe you could find someone cute. You didn’t intend on getting lucky or anything, but it would sure beat just standing there like an idiot. When was the last time you even kissed somebody?
Finally, you locked on to someone across the room. Someone with honey brown eyes. Someone familiar.
Toby.
He grinned when your eyes met. It was the first time you’d seen him do that. Large toothy canine’s, that bandage on his cheek shifting slightly.
Oh god you felt your heart flutter.
You shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t. There was something wrong with him. Your brother didn’t like him. Nobody did.
He creeped you out.
He didn’t shower.
He smelled like death.
You listed the reasons out, and damn if there weren’t a lot of them. But in the end it didn’t matter. In the end, it was painfully, woefully, obvious what was going to happen.
And you were already walking over there.
You slithered over to his side, sweating, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Trying to look cute. Desirable.
It was working.
He could’ve eaten you up if you gave him the chance.
But you didn’t know that.
You fiddled with the end of your skirt, the jacket you originally wore tied around your waist. A flush on your cheeks, you let your hand gently touch his shoulder.
“H-hey… glad to see you made it.”
He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to hear you better. It made your stomach stir with excitement, he made you feel small kneeling down like that. But you liked it. Liked that he was paying attention to you, and only you.
“Whuh-what did you say?” His breath was hot on your cheek. Using the loud music as an excuse to get closer, to touch your skin. Making the hair on your neck stick up.
You breathed heavily in his ear on purpose. “I said, I’m glad you made it.”
Toby’s lips parted, not responding at first, but not moving away either. “Oh? Yuh-yeah?” He sounded amused, voice lowering an octave. “Excited to suh-see little ole’ muh-me?”
It was kind of a stupid, cheesy thing to say. Like he didn’t really know how to flirt, but maybe saw a couple movies and memorized the lines. But it somehow worked for him.
“Oh, I’m sure nothing about you is little.”
Why did you say that?
Why?
It just came out naturally. Oh god, now your face felt flushed from embarrassment.
You felt him touch the side of your face. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, it sounded heavenly.
“Yuh-you know, I’m having trouble huh-hearing you.” He paused looking around, making sure no one was watching. You wondered why.
“Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
That was enough to make heat travel between your thighs.
Fuck.
One meek nod from you was all he needed, before grabbing your wrist tightly.
Too tight, like he was unaware he could hurt you. Or maybe he liked causing a little pain?
He dragged you upstairs, practically lifting you with one arm, you felt like you were gliding over the steps. The muscles of his arms barely flexing under that hoodie of his, as if you were weightless.
He was strong.
You both traveled through the hallway, careful not to bump into anyone loitering in the hall. Some of the other party goers shooting you looks, but they were mostly directed towards Toby. They weren’t judging you or anything. In fact, they looked worried, maybe even a little scared. You started to wonder more about him. What was his reputation like if this was everyone’s reaction to him? Or perhaps he really just looked that scary.
So why did he turn you on?
He pushed you into an unoccupied room and flicked the light switch on.
You barely registered him locking the door behind him.
With one shove of his palm he pushed you backwards onto the bed. Your arms flailed a bit out of instinct, falling down on the mattress with an ‘oof’.
You swallowed thickly, watching him eye the way your legs had parted slightly. Your skirt hiking up dangerously on your thighs. You had to fight the urge to close them.
“Yuh-you look scared.” That velvet, sweet, voice of his was twisted by something sick.
“Are you?” His head cocked to the side, a wolfish grin on his face.
“Yes.” Was your reply. You didn’t feel like you could lie to him now. Feeling too exposed to even think straight.
He licked his lips, slowly approaching you. His fingers danced across your shoulders, traveling down your arms, sending goosebumps down your spine. They were cold and calloused, just like you remembered from the night before.
“Then whuh-why did you follow me here?” He cupped the side of your face, his thumb grazing across your bottom lip. You were going to respond, but he quickly shoved his finger in your mouth, gagging you. He wanted you to suck on them, but he didn’t communicate that well. “Why duh-did you….approach me?”
You let your tongue glide over his finger. His eyes narrowed, watching your face, before he started talking to himself. “Fuckin’ stuh-stupid.”
You paused. Was he talking about you?
“Should be whuh-working tonight…” He muttered. “Target just downstairs…. Ssss-so easy…this better be worth it…..” Toby chuckled to himself like he just told a joke.
You didn’t understand what was going on. Should you just ignore him and continue?
Toby retracted his hand from your mouth.
“Sss-so pretty….” He pushed your back onto the bed, crawling over you, his broad chest heaving, face pink and eyes lidded. Pupils dilated with lust. “So…. suh-soft….(Y/N)....”
You shivered when he said your name like that, feeling your panties dampen even more than before. Especially when he started running a large hand up your inner thigh.
You let out a shaky breath.
“Yuh-you like it when I touch you…. I know you do…” Your eyes flickered down at him, letting him continue his ramblings, Toby’s face breaking into another evil looking smile. “Luh-letting me touch you last nuh-night…. Pretending to be asleep.”
Your stomach dropped. You couldn’t hide it in your face, he fucking knew.
He fucking knew the whole time.
He burst out laughing at your expression. “Yuh-you’re still not even telling me to stuh-stop now!” Toby gripped your hip with one of his hands, lifting up the hem of your shirt with the other.
Before you knew it, he tossed the fabric over to the corner.
Your bra was next.
In any other circumstances you might’ve found it cute, or funny, when he struggled with the clasp. But something told you pointing it out to him wouldn’t have been a good idea.
He groaned at the sight of your exposed torso, immediately diving into your tits. Your nipples perked at the attention.
He was right. You weren’t stopping him. Your body screamed at you to. The smell of dirt and grime, of all things dead and decaying, it permeated off of him the more he touched you.
Toby’s mouth latched on to your left breast, the other gripped tightly in his hand. You knew you’d have bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t care.
He licked and nipped at the tender flesh, the swell of your tits heaving, your head thrown back and lips parted, letting out soft moans here and there.
A noticeable bulge grinded against your leg, as he huffed, humping himself against you like a dog.
After a while, he finally lifted his head up.
Toby looked you in the eye, grinning, licking your nipple teasingly one last time, before his attention moved to your skirt.
His hands searched your sides for a zipper, he grunted out of irritation when he couldn’t find it immediately.
You took the opportunity to gently put a hand over his, guiding it to where it was. “Here.” You said softly. “Let me help you.”
His eyes snapped up to your face when you touched him.
Immediately, his lips crashed onto yours. Needy, desperate, quickly shoving his tongue down your throat. You kissed back, swirling your tongue around his, ignoring the weird taste of metal coming from his mouth. His breath was hot and heavy, kisses sloppy. You doubted he got much practice, but he seemed to be learning quickly.
He made up for it with enthusiasm.
Finally pulling away, you both unzipped your skirt together. Lifting your hips off the bed, you shimmyed them down your legs, Toby watching in fascination.
“I’m guh-gonna fuck you.” He stated matter of factly. Then he whispered something that made your blood run cold.
“...Fuck you bloody.”
Shit this guy was scary.
In a few seconds, he ripped his hoodie off, along with his shirt. His chest was heavily scarred, a noticeable slash starting from his left side over to his shoulder, and a dark happy trail rising up from the waistband of his jeans.
You didn’t comment on it, but it was worrisome. You could only imagine what would cause someone to get hurt so badly and so often.
That said, Toby was definitely toned. A bit sickly looking, but his muscles had just a hint of a six pack formed. Maybe he did more exercise than you initially thought.
He kicked off his jeans next, unceremoniously pulling his boxers down, revealing himself to you. Lazily, he stroked himself, a thick layer of precum smearing down his shaft. It was long, veiny, but not very girthy. A flushed red tip, looking painfully hard.
You pulled down your panties slowly, already soaked, and ready. The anticipation was killing you, but you wanted to make him wait for it. His Adam's apple bobbed watching you, and you liked reveling in his stares.
“Guh-gonna split you in two…” Toby murmured, to no one in particular.
He hooked his arm under one of your legs, his body shivering with need, pulling your hips against him. He glided his shaft over your cunt, rubbing your clit slowly. He noticed you tense, how you whimpered slightly, and how your slick covered him more at the action. Looking in awe like it was some revelation to him.
Toby licked his lips, before finally enveloping himself in your heat.
It was quick. Like he was slamming a drawer shut, but he immediately bottomed out. You gritted your teeth in pain, before crying out when he started viciously pounding into you.
It fucking hurt. It hurt a lot.
“Shit..! Tuh-tight!”
Obviously, your muscles had tensed around him, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden fullness of his cock stuffing you. Unable to adjust.
You whimpered when he didn’t let up, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. A dull ache between your legs as he continued thrusting. The wet sound of skin slapping together coming from where the two of you were joined, burying his face in your neck, breathing in your scent.
Toby inhaled sharply, before you felt his mouth open wide.
Teeth broke through your skin instantly, a warm liquid dripping down your neck.
You screamed.
You screamed louder than you ever have in your life.
You screamed bloody fucking murder.
“Toby!” Clawing at his back, trying to get him to stop, you started crying. “Toby! Please!”
Luckily for you, he released his jaw to call out “(Y-Y/N)!” Not understanding your cries weren’t from pleasure.
It egged him on, encouraged him. His pelvis slamming into yours, with no let up, your tits bouncing at the force. Itching his fingers to your clit, he rubbed it in harsh circular movements, making you tighten around him.
You babbled nonsense. Finally some of the pain subsiding for pleasure, and maybe it was the lingering effects of alcohol, or the slight blood loss, but you felt a buzzing in your head. Basically incoherent, the faster he went. The brutal, bruising speed.
The way he gripped your breast, the way his hand remained on your pearl, trying his best to get you to finish, but not quite knowing how.
Something started to build.
More and more.
Hearing him growl, pant, like an animal. It was doing something to you.
You moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around him. The coil snapping, muscle spasming, pulling his cock in deeper, triggering his own climax.
His hips stuttered against you, letting out a gasp. A warmth filling you, Toby completely emptying himself inside with a deep groan, eyes rolling back in his head.
He gave a few sloppy, slow thrusts, before finally rolling off, and onto the bed next to you.
His cum leaking out of your cunt and staining the sheets.
Everything went blank for a moment, realization only just settling in. The gravity of the situation, the blood on your neck.
And an arm wrapped around your shoulders, drawing you close.
“I knew you’d be worth the truh-trouble.”
#creepypasta#toby rogers#ticci toby x reader#my writing#ticci toby smut#creepypasta smut#fanfiction#ticci toby x you#ticci toby#creepypasta x reader#ticci toby x reader smut
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bedtime stories
a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: bitch this was supposed to be a blurb. 2.4k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where night shift with him runs late, but you don't mind at all. You won’t admit a lot of things to Luke Castellan, but perhaps he knows something you don’t. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
warnings: none, banter and fluff on a night shift
a/n: Introducing luke castellan x trouble!reader… this is just gonna be ongoing blurbs and one shots of an idea in my head (and my latest hyperfixation) reader is essentially reformed unhinged bitch now camp mom and it’s enemies to friends to lovers. Working through reading the pjo series hehe
(posted 1/16/24, beta’ed by the lovely @ttulipwritezz @mrsaluado & @lixzey thank you bunches)
—
Dragging your feet across the dirt of the forest floor, you sigh to yourself in the quiet night air. It’s gonna be another long night and with the beep on your digital watch, you blearily peer at the time and sigh. Almost 11. Swaying slightly, you whistle a familiar tune as your nimble hands straighten out the deck chairs near the firepit, pick up trash to toss into the receptacle, and turn off the lights in the dining hall. All on the way to check Cabin 7, mind you, and the Apollo kids will undoubtedly loop you into singing a song with them before you shut the lights off and close the curtains.
Gods, your dad is definitely gonna hear about this in the morning.
It’s not like Mr. D ever really cares, or listens, more focused on droning on about missing his wife and playing pinochle even when you rattle off his…your to-do list for the week to keep Camp Half-Blood running and the younger demigods in mostly one piece. Honestly, he should be grateful he has you, and even if he is, he’ll never let you hear it.
At least you’re Chiron’s favorite.
A shadow passes your field of view, and before you can rub at your sleepy eyes, strong hands pin you to the side of a tree on the dirt path you were supposed to take across camp.
Sorry, let’s correct that—you’re one of Chiron’s favorites. The other all-star camper stares at you like you’re a three-headed dog under the beam of his flashlight.
“Just me, Castellan,” you grumble, a bit winded as you blink harshly at the bright light. “Still doing checks.”
“You’re losing your touch. You making a habit of going to bed late?” Luke smirks, and it’s actually annoying how he always looks like he knows something you don’t.
“You always pin campers to trees?”
“Just the pretty ones.” His smirk turns into a sly grin that makes you roll your eyes.
“Okay loser, I’ve got cabins to check,” you drone as you push off from the tree. “6 cut into my time after staying there longer than I had to. The little ones kept asking these otherworldly philosophical questions and Annabeth just laughed at me while I tried to not pluck my eyelashes out one by one.”
Your clipboard taps lightly against your hip despite the aggression in your voice and Luke laughs much like his little sister, a burst of sunlight overflowing into the dreary and mundane. Your lips quirk upward before you can stop and remind yourself of who you’re talking to. The tall boy reaches behind him to scratch the nape of his neck and sighs, sucking at his teeth.
“You’re always doing the most, huh?”
“Who else is going to, my dad? He’s probably already out like a light.” Once, you found your dad asleep at his desk after dinner, snoring loudly instead of keeping watch. You started taking more night shifts after that.
“Well, no. You know I’m here to help you, even if you’ll never admit it.” Luke extends a hand to you so it’s easier to navigate the step back onto the dirt-trodden path, but there’s no fun in that, so you hop around him and start walking away. The sound of his footsteps fall and match yours as he follows you, both in tandem like the sound of a steady heartbeat.
“The day you catch me admitting anything about you is the day the Underworld freezes over. You should know that by now.”
“Woooooow, so I don’t get a thank you for singing the Apollo kids to sleep? You should’ve seen the look on their faces when I walked in and not you. They ended the song pretty quickly after I opened my mouth to croak out a chorus,” he says, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and nudging your side as you both laugh.
He’s a terrible singer, to be honest. Not even the Fates would’ve expected that from someone who otherwise seems like a perfect boy. Sometimes you wonder what he’s done in a past life to have it so easy–to look like he’s been chiseled by Michelangelo, have the athletic prowess of ten Spartan soldiers, and the heart of a hero only legends could get right. He’s probably the closest thing to an actual hero here at camp. You often find yourself looking at him in hopes of finding a crack in the porcelain of his perfection, but any fault of his seems to just build up his endurance in his quest for glory.
Maybe that��s why your dad doesn’t like him, his aspirations for something greater than the camp that’s kept you safe all these years, though the multiple complaints and headaches the both of you have given him as squabbling teenagers must’ve added onto that. Sometimes, though, the way he helps ease your load prods a funny feeling you do your best not to acknowledge in your stomach. Luke walks ahead shining the flashlight onto the dark path so you both don’t trip. It’s there now, at the sight of him offering an arm for you to latch onto to hop over fallen branches.
Mental note: tell the satyrs to move that in the morning.
As you hurdle over the brambles, you let go immediately after you steady your feet, moving his hand that’s holding the flashlight back towards the path with no other words. You are your father’s daughter after all, and he knows this—stubborn and your name have the same face.
Moving further towards your destination, the light reveals a teenage couple entangled within each other’s arms at the base of a tree out there for everyone to see in the moonlight.
“Jeez, guys, alright— pack it up, wrap it up! Could’ve at least found somewhere private… It’s curfew already, if I see you two again it’s a citation.”
The boy blushes and mumbles an apology to you, scurrying back to cabin 7, and you raise an eyebrow at a sheepish son of Hermes who swears they were all in their beds when he was singing to them.
“I don’t wanna go back to my cabin, all the boys are gross…” the girl whines, cheeks flushed from embarrassment as she flutters her eyelashes at you and Luke. You sigh. What has the world come to that young demigods are entrusted to the care of two people who barely consider themselves adults?
“Well, if you’re still in 11 with this one,” you simper, blatantly pointing at Luke, “I can’t blame you. He’s gross. Come by mine tomorrow and I’ll get you privacy curtains, okay? Trust me Yvonne, you don’t think boys are all that gross if you like kissing them.”
She nods, smiling charmingly at the two of you, before brushing past Luke and winking, “See you inside!”
Your head swivels to look at Luke with a coy expression, “There’s no way she’s not an Aphrodite.”
Luke huffs as he clicks his flashlight on and off. His hands are always fidgeting, always searching for something to do. He’s more like his dad than he thinks, carrying the quieter traits of quick fingers and more obvious ones like his constant search for amusement. Talking to you consistently satiates that itch.
“Aphrodite isn’t the only god that attracts attractive people, you know.”
“Oh? Do tell, because if she’s one of you, your cabin’s gonna be extra trouble,” your mouth curves into a smile, and he thinks he likes it more when you’re trying to be mean to him like this because the back and forth between you two is a comfort Luke cherishes. The words have lost their bite over the years, and there are no more cuts and bruises besides an occasional wounded ego, but it’s still entertaining, to say the least. He can’t imagine a day without hearing the teasing lilt of your voice, always easy to prod at and always wanting to have the last word.
“My dad is the god of thieves and messengers. We’re fast, smart, charming, and also good-looking. Do the math.”
“Also apparently the ones with the biggest egos, but okay.” There it is. He shoves you and you trip over your own feet falling fast.
“Hey! Jerk.”
“Definitely a daughter of Dionysus, crazy as always, and clumsy too.” Luke’s nose crinkles at the sight of your crumpled frame.
“Your hand is like the size of my face, what the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”
A fleeting thought in the back of your mind reasons that maybe violence is the answer, but he’s still not finished making fun of you even after he helps you up.
“And vulgar! What a shocker.”
“Ugh. You better hope your dad stops populating because if there’s any more that come here and act like you? I’m quitting.”
Luke watches you gaze at the heavens, probably looking for a fuck to give and he snickers at how easily you give in nowadays. Maybe he’s the one losing his touch—usually you’d put up more of a fight to argue.
“You wouldn’t. You love this job. Camp. S’why you’re not as fun anymore, Trouble.”
A noise of agreement leaves you as you glare at him and the stupid nickname back from when you used to wreak havoc just because you could, a direct juxtaposition to the honorary position you hold today. Finally following him up the front steps of Cabin 11, Luke opens the door and beckons you in, pushing at your hip with his knuckles.
Checking this place last has become a habit with Luke helping you out, and all the kids—Hermes’, minor gods’, and unclaimed, love it when you come to stop by before lights out. They especially loved the later bedtime, but hugs and cool stories from you were a close second.
“Everyone good and ready for bed in here? Sorry it took so long guys,” you say, visually scanning the perimeter and matching faces to bunks, seeing them all settled beneath their sheets, all except for one Luke Castellan. He’s still leaning against the doorframe, breath grazing your shoulder as he hands you a copy of his log from the other cabins he kindly relieved you from.
“What, no bedtime story this time?” He says through hooded eyes, and though he won’t admit it, he adores the sound of your voice. Luke does anything he can to get your attention to hear it more. It almost has a calming effect on him, and maybe it’s the fact that your dad can cause and cure madness, anxiety, and all alike, so something in him believes you do the same, powers or not. One look from him has you sputtering out snarky remarks; different strategies, same results—works every time.
“Castellan…” He grins at the look on your face, and tiny voices pop up from around the cabin, all asking for a bedtime story. Chris even starts a chant from his top bunk, making you want to hurl your clipboard at his head. Hypnos is calling your name at this point, and you’d do anything to crawl into your own safe haven in Cabin 12, but your heartstrings pull at the sight of the little ones pouting, hoping for you to tuck them in with a blanket of comforting words and stories of something more than what these walls meagerly provide. Camp Half-Blood only keeps them safe for so long, and not a lot of them make it out of here alive. You and Luke both know that being two of the oldest at camp, and his smug expression as he settles into his bed is confirmation that you’re about to give in.
“Fine. One quick story, and then everyone goes to sleep okay? Who wants to sit on the floor with me?”
You take your place sitting on the ground next to the foot of Luke’s bunk as he lays upside down on the twin-sized mattress, peering at you through one open eye as the younger children, mostly the unclaimed ones—drag their blankets and form a circle in the middle of the room, waiting patiently for you to start enchanting them with something to occupy their tired minds. Acting— that’s the gift your father had to give you; this time you decide to tell the story of Atalanta and the golden apples, how she ran from love and it still found her in the end, and how some stories can have good endings, despite what’s often found in Greek legend.
Multiple tired eyes droop closed as you finish the story and carry the ones who’ve fallen into Hypnos’ embrace back into their bunks, tucking them in with kisses on their foreheads and it leaves you with a warm feeling that will help you brave the chill on your walk back.
Admittedly, this next part is your favorite part on nights like these. The overflowing cabin of rowdy pranksters and babbling children is as quiet as the secret you hold close to your heart, tiptoeing back towards Luke’s space and draping his blanket over his muscular frame, exhausted from another day of trying to achieve greatness. Your hand brushes a dark curl away from his forehead, fingertips ghosting his pale skin like a kiss you’d never have the guts to give. With everything you have in you, you summon thoughts of serenity and peace, hoping whatever keeps him up at night lets him rest for even a few hours. You don’t pray often, finding yourself spiting your father instead of honoring him on most days, but in the dim light of Cabin 11, you find yourself making time to do so for a pain in your ass called Luke Castellan.
Perhaps he knows something you don’t after all, the crease in his forehead relaxing as you pull your fingertips away.
“Sweet dreams, angelface.”
Mental note: Put his ass to work tomorrow for falling asleep halfway through the story.
It’ll only give him another excuse to ask you to tell it again a few nights later. You find yourself not minding that, a sliver of a smile pulling at your face as you walk towards the door and shut the lights off, a sleeping son of Hermes illuminated by the gentle shine of the moon.
You’d never admit that, though.
—
“you steady me and stir me
all at once.”
-Tanya Wright
ask to be added to luke/general taglist!
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#luke castellan x dionysus!reader#luke castellan x reader#pjo imagine#luke castellan fanfic#luke castellan x reader fanfic#made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#luke castellan fluff#thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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all my love
pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff, friends to lovers
word count: 2.2k
warnings: mentions of drinking (reader is not present), crying drunk hoshi (and seokmin), jeonghan is the devil personified /hj, allusions to the movie drawing closer (2024), love confessions, use of baby
author note: this was a birthday gift for my beloved @m00n1sms ♡ eishi, i love you!! thanks for giving me permission to post this :> this was also written shortly after i watched a movie that caused a headache because i cried too much (drawing closer) and i needed to incorporate it in here because i love it <3 lots of love and i hope you enjoy :D
masterlist
seungcheol swears he’s not in love with you.
actually, he’s insistent on it, even when his friends raise an eyebrow and laugh it off…which is what’s happening right now, at their monthly dinner—hey, it’s harder than it looks to gather all thirteen of them for a simple dinner and as the adopted father, he makes sure that there’s always one every single month.
“you’re in love, aren’t you?” soonyoung giggles, and half of the group joins in to laugh at seungcheol’s pouty face.
“hey!” seungcheol protests as he slams down the shot glass of what was once filled with soju down. “stop accusing me of things that aren’t true!”
jeonghan raises an eyebrow beside him and before seungcheol can question his best friend’s actions, soonyoung starts crying.
“how would you feel if you were them, and you didn’t get to see your crush anymore cause he was avoiding you and his feelings for you?” soonyoung sniffles and mingyu wraps an arm around his drunk friend to soothe him, bringing soonyoung into his chest.
seungcheol stares at the two of them before sighing because no matter how many glasses soonyoung had drunk already—which seemed to be way too many—he might have a point, one seungcheol isn't ready to admit.
jeonghan sips his beer quietly before stating bluntly, “you should hang out with them on thursday.”
“what?” seungcheol turns to face him before blinking.
“we were supposed to go to this little flower bouquet workshop on thursday and i really don’t think they would mind if you went instead of me.” jeonghan says casually as he puts down his glass.
he turns to look lazily at his hopelessly in love friend, and sighs. “besides, they think something is up with you…just don’t make it obvious, okay?”
“make what obvious?” seungcheol looks at jeonghan curiously.
“that you love them!” seokmin chimes in from the other end of the long table, getting up so seungcheol can hear him better (he’s drunk as well, just like soonyoung).
seungcheol slumps, pouring himself another drink, already knowing by jeonghan’s evil giggle and glance with joshua that it’s going to be a long night for him especially.
if one thing’s for sure, you weren’t expecting seungcheol to show up at your door with a bouquet of flowers after ghosting you for a week. well, he did say work had become busier but still (it’s easier to be petty than confront your feelings, especially when his hair is all fluffy and his smile is apologetic).
“here,” seungcheol gives you the white orchids with a nervous smile, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that didn’t just brush against yours.
“where’s jeonghan?” you stare down at the bouquet before up at him with a raised eyebrow, ignoring the way your heart beats at the small note that says “i’m sorry :(” tucked into the paper wrap.
confused, seungcheol takes his phone out and points to it. “did he not text you?”
you shake your head before letting seungcheol in so he doesn’t have to stand outside awkwardly any longer, grabbing your phone as you tell him to get comfortable on the couch in your living room.
you ❙
jeonghan where are you and why is s**ngch**l here instead ♡
wow that’s a lot of censoring
scum of the earth hellspawn <3 ❙
hehe
you ❙
is that your only response??
i know where you live. do not play with me yoon jeonghan.
scum of the earth hellspawn <3 ❙
fine fine
i’ll explain myself
he’s my replacement for today 😇
just thought you two losers needed to spend time together and you know…actually talk 💀
have fun! thank me later
okay, so basically jeonghan’s being a menace like usual. that’s okay, you’re used to it—but why does he have to involve poor helpless seungcheol in this? you turn to look at the man who’s mindlessly toying with the hem of his blue shirt as he waits for you.
ah, seungcheol. where do you start with him?
originally, you knew him through jeonghan, one of the few mutual friends you had until you got introduced to the whole group after sharing a university class. now out of that hellscape, you’ve stayed somewhat close with all of them, often being invited to the little get-togethers they do once every few months at jeonghan and seungkwan’s shared place, and that is where you met the man of your dreams (all while jeonghan was taking a heavy nap, actually; maybe jeonghan had a vision of bringing his two friends together).
as you sit beside him, seungcheol clears his throat, unsure of where to start. “so…”
you turn your body towards him, encouraging seungcheol to continue with a nod of your head. he blinks before clearing his throat again, though this time his tone is less apprehensive. “i’m sorry i didn’t reply to your texts. i just…”
“…couldn’t handle social contact unless you were forced into it by a certain devil?” you pick up where he pauses, and he cracks a smile at your joke. “yeah i thought so.”
seungcheol’s too scared he’ll accidentally confess if he reveals why he really didn’t say anything back to your numerous well wishes, so he nods with a bittersweet smile, scolding himself in his head for thinking today will be any different from a friend date.
you glance over at the flowers he’s just given you, now secure in a spare vase you had sitting around as you made sure to give them a home before messaging jeonghan, and chuckle, unknowingly lifting seungcheol’s spirits. “you do know we’re going to a flower bouquet making workshop, right?”
“oh. well…” he freezes before pursing his lips and hiding his head in his hands. of course, he completely forgot that you are literally going to the all my love flower shop jeonghan had suggested going to earlier for apology flowers…he did that on purpose, didn’t he?
you smile, shaking your head at his embarrassment. “it’s okay cheol, don’t worry. you can just make me another one to make up for all those days you ghosted me!”
seungcheol winces again but sighs in relief at how casually you mention it; maybe you aren’t that mad after all? he knows he couldn’t be frustrated with you anyway since he is to blame after all, and the little grin on your face as you hold out a hand to help lift him up being one he missed dearly is one he can’t be angry at.
“seungcheol, you’re clipping them all wrong! they’re never gonna last once you put them in water at that rate.”
seungcheol turns to you, his eye twitching at the nagging he’s had to endure once you started the small class. set in the exact same flower shop as the one he entered earlier—the workers gave him a curious glance before noticing you beside him and giving him a wink, making his ears red—the two of you had been led to a small section of the store where there were small pristine tables laid out with newspaper and scissors, as well as things he eventually learned how to use, like the book of flowers and their meanings, which is now serving as a barrier in the middle of the table.
he says your name impatiently before sighing to himself, wondering what jeonghan has gotten him into. “hey, i’m trying my best, okay! besides the instructor said it was fine since it’s my first bouquet anyway.”
“well, i wanna keep it forever since you made it for me, so i need it to be a bouquet that lasts!” you complain, frowning at seungcheol’s dismissive words before immediately turning to your own work in front of you, choosing to ignore your slight slip up.
seungcheol clears his throat before looking over at what you have so far and lets out an begrudgingly appreciative hum. “that’s pretty good actually.”
“aw thanks, cheol!” you smile at him and he suddenly feels like the already vibrant flowers in front of him became so much brighter in just an instant.
he grins to himself, humming softly as he organizes the gerberas in front of him into a small pile; there’s only three of them anyway, all warm colours that match you perfectly.
you had questioned the amount of flowers he had taken and he answered with “it’s easier to handle,” which you thought was a believable excuse. however, he’s taking a page from the book of the movie drunk seokmin had cried about at their gathering the other day, and plans to give you exactly three gerberas, a love confession and one of loyalty, which is something he’s always been to you.
of course, he seems to think you have no idea, and he’s dead wrong. you exhale a shaky breath as you finish up your own bouquet, a collection of the flowers you found pretty while looking at what the shop offers. however, though you’re unaware of it, you also have the same idea to seungcheol’s: using gerberas like in the movie drawing closer to confess your love shyly.
the six gerberas, all ranging from deep reds to cheerful yellows, are arranged in the middle with several other small filler flowers surrounding them, thanks to the help of the instructor who picked them out for you with a wink, knowing what the two of you are up to.
assuming seungcheol is oblivious about the meaning of his own arrangement, you give a content nod to him once he finishes, wrapping up the flowers in probably the prettiest newspaper you’ve ever seen—it’s decorated with flowers and small doodles that match the simplicity of the bouquet he’s created, and he can’t help but smile as you finish up your own with a small bow with twine.
the instructor waves you over to the counter at the front of the store to pay with a smile, and rings you up as seungcheol offers to pay with a sheepish smile, still trying to make up for not being with you for the last week.
“oh my god, these are so cute! i can’t believe you both love each other so much…” the employee points to your hard work and gushes over it as you watch in horror. “like using these to say ‘i’m crazy over you’? that’s genius, especially when you consider how your boyfriend’s bouquet is him confessing he loves you!”
“you two are so versed in the language of flowers, and i’m guessing you watched drawing closer as well! such a tragic love story but i’m guessing it makes you grateful for your own relationship, am i right?” she squeals before handing you your respective bouquets, ushering you out of the all my love flower shop with a “have a nice day, lovebirds!”
you turn to seungcheol and are surprised at how red his face is, his cheeks rivalling your own. maybe…it would be a good idea to just roll with what the nosy shopkeeper was saying, considering it’s true—at least, for you.
you thrust out the bouquet in your shaky hands towards him. “this…is for you, and it’s just like she said.” you clear your throat, since it dries at the sheer adoration in seungcheol’s eyes once you meet them. “i’m crazy in love with you and your short temper, your caring nature and well, just you.”
he takes your bouquet in the hand that’s not holding his own with a smile that’s growing bigger by the second, and you get the courage to continue. “i’ve been holding this off so long because i was scared you didn’t feel the same way, and i…i guess i really hope that lady was right about your flowers.”
seungcheol gulps, giving you the bouquet crafted specifically for you, and sighs, covering the hand you’re using to hold it. “she was totally right…i’m in love with you too, and i’ve already tried denying it.”
he shakes his head with a laugh. “the guys were all right; i was hurting you by not being direct, and i hope that you’ll forgive me for that. this,” he looks down at the three flowers in your now interlocked hands, “is my way of confessing that i want to be by your side, if you’ll let me.”
you grin with him and nod, bringing your heads closer to touch your foreheads together as seungcheol giggles. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too, baby.” he replies instantly, leaving no room for hesitation like he has so many times before, and you turn red at the pet name. just before seungcheol can comment on how cute you are, he’s interrupted by a voice from behind you, and the two of you freeze.
“um, so sorry to interrupt your moment but you’re blocking the entryway of the shop,” the employee says, peeking her head out of the building you had just exited with a sheepish smile.
you and seungcheol exchange a glance before apologizing furiously and walking off in search of a bench to rest, with one of your hands holding the other’s, and one holding your now blossomed love.
#dokries works#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#choi seungcheol scenarios#choi seungcheol x reader#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol imagines#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol scenarios#scoups fluff#scoups x reader#scoups scenarios#scoups imagines
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AO3
Part 1
Part 4
Part 6
Part 5 of the roommates idea
Okay okay, so before this starts, a lot of people have mentioned me posting this on ao3, and my question is if you guys mean it as it is, or if I should make two or three new parts to make up for the first part.
Because in the first part, we miss a lot of possible moments between Steve and Eddie since it skips to the basic idea.
This whole thing was meant to be a messy and quick way to get my ideas out, but then people ended up actually liking it, and well, I just want you guys to like the outcome.
Basically, I wanna know if I should;
A.Post it on ao3 as is
B. Post it on ao3 with two to maybe four parts instead of the original post, and have me do part six after I make those. (I'm a decently quick writer when I'm motivated, all these parts so far have been within a day or two)
C. Make the parts instead of the original post, and have this be a big one-shot on ao3(meaning it wouldn't be posted on there until this is finished)
I am really leaning towards B, just cause I wanna do those interactions (one of which would be Eddie coming out to Steve), but I wanna see what you guys think first.
This whole thing is kinda a wreck cause I don't usually post fics on Tumblr but hopefully it will get better with time.
After Dustin explains the upside down, and Eddie talks about what really happened, they come to a sort of agreement.
Eddie was to stay at the boathouse, and someone would occasionally come over with a supply of drinks and food.
Steve, of course, despised this, because Eddie is his best friend-(And who was he kidding? Goddamn crush, too)-dammit, but he let the plan go on anyway.
Before they left, Steve turned to Eddie, brows pinched together.
“Stay safe, alright? If you get hurt because you do something stupid, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
Eddie laughed, loud and full, “Kinda counterproductive, aye sweetheart?”
He stopped when Steve didn’t laugh or make a joke back. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll walkie if things go to shit.”
“Good.” Steve gave him a little peck on the corner of his lips, “Don’t die, man. Can’t take care of these little shits by myself.”
He turned to face Max, and a gaping Dustin and Robin.
“Lets go, nerds”
-
Steve stared at the ground, unblinking.
One of his kids were gonna die.
Eddie had had apparently left the boathouse
Eddie was being hunted.
Two more students have been murdered.
He licked his lips, and his eyes flicked up to watch Powell talk about the town hall meeting.
They were royally fucked.
“Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler? Stevie?”
Steve’s eyes widened and he turned around in time to see Dustin snatch the walkie.
“Eddie, holy shit. Are you okay?”
The walkie took a second to crackle back to life.
“Nah man, pretty uh, pretty goddamn far from okay.”
“Where is he?”Nancy asked, already halfway back into the car.
“Where are you?”
“Skull Rock, Steve knows it.”
Steve smiled, grabbing the walkie and clicking down on the button, “Hold on tight, Ed-stefer, we’re on our way.” He tossed it back to Dustin before turning to Nancy.
“I’m driving.”
She scrunched her nose, but didn’t question it and swapped to the passenger's side.
-
“Dude, I’m telling you, you’re leading us the wrong way.”
“It’s North, I’m positive! I checked the map.”
Steve sighed and pinched his nose, “This is literally Eddie and I’s spot, we come here all the time.”
“That doesn’t have to do with it being a make-out spot, does it?” Lucas asked hesitantly from his spot in the back.
“Jesus, no Sinclair, this does not have to do with- Eddie and I are just friends.”
Robin scoffed, “Didn’t you kiss him earlier?” She asked.
“As friends. He doesn’t like me like that.”
“Right, but you like him like that, though?”
“Oh wow, suddenly we’re here, y’know, at the place you said we weren’t gonna end up at?” Steve yelped, gesturing broadly at the rocks around him.
Lucas has to physically bite his lip to keep from mentioning that he had absolutely picked that up from Eddie, or that Eddie had picked it up from him.
“See? You little butthead, I was right.”
Theres a rustle of leaves and then,
“I concur, you, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”
Steve turned to face the man and almost collapsed in relief, hes not hurt.
“Jesus Eddie, we thought you were a goner.” Dustin sighed, as he made his way past Steve to hug Eddie.
“Yeah, me too man. Me too.”
The hug goes on for maybe ten seconds before Eddie’s pulling back and bringing Steve into a side one, you know, like some kind of dad. “I tried calling you guys, but uh…”
His face turned sheepish and he stepped back a bit to grab some water from a canister. “My walkie was busted, man.”
“Drenched.” He adds in after a second, laughing a bit.
He took another sip from the bottle before wiping and extra drops away from his mouth. “So, uh, I did the thing that I do now apparently. I ran.” He let out another laugh, this one was a little bit more self-deprecating.
“Do you know what time this was? The attack.”
Eddie perked up, and grabbed at his wrist, “ Yeah, no, I um, know exactly what time it was.”
He held up a watch, the dials on it weren’t moving. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.”
“9:27…”
“Same times our flashlights went kablooey.” Robin says, and her eyes light up like she connected the dots.
Steve hadn’t, “Which means what exactly?”
“That that surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.”
Steve half-zoned out, silently going through the events in his head, while maintaining conversation.
“Skull Rock was North.”
“An electromagnetic field.”
“What say you, Eddie the Banished?”
Steve tuned back in, a hundred percent now. He turned to look at Eddie, who was still crouching, and damn how did his back not hurt?
“I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor,” Steve perked up, he kind of knew this one, “-which, if I’m totally straight with you, I think it’s a really bad idea.”
And Steve nodded along, because yeah, this was a terrible idea.
“But uh, the Shire, the Shire is burning, so Mordor it is.”
He whistled at Eddie when everyone got up, and he was by Steve’s side in seconds.
“You’re not hurt or anything, are you? Cause you don’t look it but…”He trailed off, and Eddie grinned.
“I am all-good Steve-O.” Steve nodded, “Good, good.”
Suddenly, there was a sharp gasp from right next to him, “Were you, perhaps, worried?!” Steve kicked a rock instead of answering.
It just made Eddie’s grin widen further.
“You totally were! Stevie Harrington, The-Former-King-Of-Hawkins turned sweetheart, worrying over lil-ol-Eddie-The-Freak-Munson!”
Steve scoffed, “ First off, I’d like to think I’ve always been a sweetheart, second off, keep it in your pants, dude.”
Eddie cackled, leaning into his side, “Yeah, yeah! You’re right. You’ve kinda been like that for the past two years, Mr.Eddie-Cant-Carry-A-Fucking-Hot-Pan-Anymore.” He laughed, ignoring the second part of Steve’s statement.
He huffed, “Just don’t want you getting hurt.”
Eddie booped his nose, “Yeah yeah, you’re just you like that.”
Tag List
@bxlthazar@i-have-three-feelings@leverage-ot3@mightbeasleep@badcaseofcasey@joruni@original-cypher@aceflavouredyougurt@flustratedcas@lovelylilbadone@labels-are-for-the-weak@steddieassheg0es@gregre369
#steve being “just you like that” is him being a tiny bit afraid eddie will fuck up and burn himself#hes just self-sacrificial like that#stranger things ficlet#steddie ficlet#steddie#ficlet#stranger things#steve x eddie#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#and they were roommates#oh my god they were roommates#crisisinverted17#crisisinverted17's roommate au
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Hii! Could you write Silver and Jamil with a s/o who is touch starved? In the sense they're not opposed to affection, but aren't that used to it and get kind of startled, but crave it nonetheless? Thank you so much, have a great night!
WHY IS THIS ME???? ill def be making a pt 2 because i love this so much
Twisted Wonderland Boys with an S/O who is touch starved
Stuff you should read: touch starved s/o, a tinyyyyyyyyyyy bit self indulgent because me too anon me too, bulleted post, i didnt use actual grammar/punctuation because i am lazy, once again no beta we die like men Characters: Silver Vanrouge, Jamil Viper, Malleus Draconia, Leona Kingscholar, Sebek Zigvolt, Lilia Vanrouge
SILVER VANROUGE
Silver first found out about your touch starved-ness when he accidentally fell asleep on your shoulder
When you shrieked softly in suprise, he shot up, thinking that he might've hurt you.
When you explained to him that you were just not used to physical contact, he sighed in relief.
i kid you not he genuinely thought he somehow headbutted you
And oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh boy when he learned that you craved touch, the boy was so ecstatic (for his standards)
from then on, he was always somehow holding your hand, or had his head resting in your lap or something
(at first, he would ask you or warn you before he would touch you, just so you wouldn't be too suprised or startled, but if you were okay with it, and as you got more comfortable, he'd just go for it)
if you were okay with more romantic displays of affection, he'd nap during lunch with you in the courtyard, with you somehow in his embrace
hes such a pookie i swear (im sorry his is so short idk how to write silver *sob*
JAMIL VIPER
Jamil actually found out from a silly little walk to Sam's
he went to hold your hand, and you pulled away, surprised
he thought you were mad at him and when i tell you this man tried to think of a reason why you would be mad at him
when he couldnt think of anything, he decided to just come out and ask if he did something wrong
and then you explained it to him
like silver, he sighed in relief
but not a little sigh
a big one
like muscles relaxing and everything he genuinely thought you were mad at him.
so when you slowly brought your hand to his, lightly squeezing it, you almost killed him
my dude ASCENDED like he actually would die with no regrets
when he figures out that you actually crave touch, he isn't as ecstatic as silver, but hes fairly excited
he'd definitely enjoy showing that he loves you through small physical touches (hand holding, maybe having your arm around his, ect)
Again, like silver, he'd tell/ask you when/if he was going to hug you or something
he wouldn't ALWAYS be touching you, but he would be in private
he himself is kinda iffy on pda but he'd hold your hand or something, nothing like kissing or full on big hugs, but hand holding is a big one for him
you two probably came up with one of those cute systems where its like "two hand squeezes means ily" or something
MALLEUS DRACONIA
he found out when, on one of your nightly walks, he tried to hug you and you just...froze in the hug
he just comes straight out and asks, he doesn't want to assume you're mad at him, but he did do something wrong, he wants to apologize
"Child of Man, is everything alright? You froze."
when you explained that no, nothing is wrong and that you just were a little touch starved, he nodded thoughtfully
"Well then, would you be okay if I request a hug, instead?"
^^^ (all of these men are so polite omg)
when you say yes, he is very happy
if he had a tail, it would wag
you know those cute pictures of rlly tall people hugging their shorter friends, s/o's? thats what this becomes. he is just leaned over, hugging you
"tsunotarou....shouldn't you let go now...?"
give him a second
when he learns you crave physical touch HE IS LITERALLY SO HAPPY
i hc that one of his main love languages is physical touch, so he is VERY HAPPY that he gets to show you just how much he loves you
once again, is another who would start with telling you when he will touch you, but his telling phase ends fairly quickly compared to silver and jamil
his main forms of physical contact are those elegant ones like where he has a hand on the small of your back
he would ALWAYS BE TOUCHING YOU.
more than silver
tfym he cant come to your ancient curses class with you when he has potionology? he already knows everything he needs to know anyway, so why cant he hold your hand a little longer :(
will 9/10 times end up sleeping over at ramshackle big spooning you (the big spoon in me wants to big spoon malleus but maybeeeeeeeeeee ill save that for another post)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
he puts his head in your lap, and now youre shifting around?
come on herbivore smh smh you cant move so much hes trying to sleep!
when the thought eats a little too much at the back of his mind, he finally asks you whats up
when you explain it to him, he sighs and STAYS WITH HIS HEAD ON YOUR LAP.
but the only reason he keeps his head in your lap is because he knows his herbivore, and he knows all the signs that you're truly uncomfortable with something, so he knows that you don't mind
he breaks the cycle of asking. like i said before he knows his herbivore well, and he knows your boundaries and the signs that your uncomfortable even better, so he knows he won't overstep
i feel like he never had to figure out you craved attention, hes an observer, and just kinda always knew by your lingering touches, even after the shock of the touch
his favourite forms of physical touch are to lay his head in your lap, and basically anything (sexual or non sexual) where your body is on/close to his
hes another one whos main love language is touch, so he is too seen skipping his classes to hang out with you/to pull you from yours to the botanical garden
SEBEK ZIGVOLT
hes very aggressive with his affection, so when you shied away from his hug after training, he did a Jamil and tried to think of any reason you'd be mad at him
hes kinda sulking for the rest of the day until he decides to just come to ramshackle to ask you
"sebek wtf are you doing at my door its the middle of the night- WHY ARE YOU WET?!"
"I COULDN'T SLEEP THINKING YOU WERE MAD AT ME! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT I DID, SO I CAN PROPERLY ATONE!!!!!!"
"............what.................?"
you had to run and grab a towel because this idiot decided to WALK over while it was RAINING
when you explained everything to him, how you were just surprised, he understood immediately, so, he joins the Polite Cult (tm) and asks you to give you a hug
when he finds out you crave touch, he is a man on a MISSION
he WILL make sure you get what you want becuase he LOVES YOU SO MUCH
(just dont use your power over him when hes trying to protect malleus. he will become crisis'd about what to prioritize)
he loves to hold your hand sosososososo much its such a little gesture that can mean so much
hold his hand.
LILIA VANROUGE
he went to taze you (yk when you put your hands on someones waist and just pinch/tickle them while going ZZZZZT? yeah that) and you almost died of shock
hes seen many things, when your a prehistoric artifact like him, you know whats up
so you didnt even need to explain, he just kinda knew the second you screamed
hes also like leona in the sense he just knows you arent necessarily uncomfortable or anything
but he still tries to limit the amount he scares you but COME ON....your back is faced to him! its the perfect chance to scare you!
he, again, knew you needed more physical touch, so he's always stuck to you whenever he can be
not like skipping class level like malleus and leona, but he still is with you 90% of the day
another one to come to ramshackle with you, but he wont tell the others where he is so everyone thinks peepaw went missing
get peepaw to take his meds please hes a little deranged
--------------------------- I LOVED WRITING THIS SM but i was cramping the entireee time :( m.list @mit0ee 's work, please do not steal!
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#silver x reader#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#leona x reader#sebek x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader#lilia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#no beta we die like men
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comfortember day sixteen: coffee/tea break aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader aaron takes a holiday from work and comes back with a beard, leading to something neither of you would have expected. word count: 1.6k warnings/content: minor injury (burns), mentions of being shot, kissing, one use of Y/N,, idk what else. comfortember masterlist here! also on ao3!
beards and burns
You sigh at the computer in front of you, feeling exhaustion beginning to weigh you down. Looking around the bullpen and seeing similar expressions across your co-worker's faces, you stand up and ask, “Does anyone want any coffee?” The chorus of yeses and pleases makes you laugh as you begin walking toward the kitchenette. “I’ll make a fresh pot.”
“Our saviour!” Emily calls after you.
Derek laughs as he gestures toward you. “The true hero of the BAU.”
You roll your eyes and begin making the coffee, scrolling through your phone as it heats up. As you laugh at a funny post from your friend, you hear a few collective gasps fill the room and glance up to see your team all talking in hushed voices. Raising your eyebrow, you wonder to yourself what they’re up to as you grab the finished coffee pot and your mug.
“Good to see you again, Y/N,” a voice from behind you says, startling you and making you jump. “Oh, sorry.”
Recognising the voice as Aaron, your boss, who’s been on holiday for almost two months (everyone was as surprised as you when he announced his break from work), you turn around to greet him with a smile. However, at the sight of him, the words die in your throat and all you get out is an embarrassing noise of shock. And if that’s not embarrassing enough, the coffee pot–both fresh and boiling to the touch–falls out of your grip and smashes to the ground.
Aaron is quick to run over to you, his face dropping into deep concern as you flinch back and hold your hand with a pained sound. It’s almost too much, his soft brown eyes looking over your face, one hand on your shoulder and the other hovering over your burnt hand, and the beard.
God, he has a beard.
An actual beard.
One that frames his face so perfectly and makes him look ten times more attractive, something you were sure couldn’t be possible and it has your mind reeling. Your face feels as if it’s been engulfed in flames as you stare at him, his mouth moving to words you’re too unfocused to hear.
He moves you over to the sink and runs the water on the coldest setting, testing the temperature on his hand before putting yours under the tap and shaking off his own. Embarrassment courses through you.
“Sorry,” you mutter, taking a step away from him and looking at the shattered glass on the floor. “I don’t know what happened there.”
You can feel everyone in the office staring at you and you wish the floor would simply swallow you up. Derek cackles to himself, trying to stifle his laughter but failing miserably, and you make a note to yourself to smack him over the head when you get a chance.
“Maybe you should go home and get some sleep instead of drinking more coffee, hm?” Aaron suggests.
Despite the pain in your hand, slowly easing up under the cold water, you manage to laugh. “Jesus, Hotch, you take a month off and suddenly you’re an advocate for going home and getting some rest? What happened to you?”
He grins at your words, his dimple hidden by his perfectly trimmed beard but still managing to look as stunning as ever, and you melt at the sight. “It made me open my eyes a bit.” As he speaks, he reaches out for a neatly folded towel on the counter and throws it over the coffee on the floor, kneeling beside it. His eyes catch yours from where he’s on the floor, the light reflecting beautifully over them and making the black ring around his iris more noticeable. “I’ve clearly been missing out.”
“Hotch, you don’t have to clean that–”
“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He moves the towel over the floor briefly before standing up and looking at your hand in concern. “You know what? Your hand is more important than this floor.” He glances around the room before his eyes land on a still-grinning Derek and he squints his eyes with the smallest of smirks–it almost makes you collapse on the spot. “Morgan, clean this glass up, please.”
That wipes the smile off Derek’s face immediately and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh. “Seriously, Hotch? I didn’t even make the mess, man!”
“You can treat yourself to another pot of coffee afterwards,” Aaron replies, reaching out for your shoulder and gently guiding you toward his office. Once you’re inside and the door is closed, he takes your burnt hand in yours and sighs. “What are we gonna do with you, huh?”
“It’s just a small burn,” you shrug, “nothing I haven’t been through before.”
He hums. “True. I mean… you’ve been shot.”
“True,” you reply with a grimace, “that wasn’t very pleasant. Neither is this but I’m being very brave about it.”
Aaron laughs, the noise soft and sweet, and you’re sure you might melt. “Yes. Yes, you are. Now let’s make sure you’re okay, hm?” After looking over your hand for a few moments, Aaron hums again and smiles at you, eyes bright. “I think you’ll survive.”
And then he does something you would never have expected in a million years. Everything feels as if it’s in slow motion as he gently swipes the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand before raising it to his lips and pressing a soothing kiss over your skin. Your cheeks warm the moment his lips make contact and the cage in your stomach bursts open with all the butterflies fighting to get out.
“There,” he whispers, “kissed it all better.”
You can’t help but laugh at that, finding him endearingly cute as you stare at him with a fond look. “Thank you, that really helped.” As the two of you stare at each other for a few moments, you move your burnt hand closer to slide it over his jaw, feeling the soft bristles of his beard under your fingers. The sensation makes your heart hammer in your chest, and when Aaron smiles and nuzzles his face into the palm of your hand, you’re sure you might have a heart attack right then and there. “Aaron…”
“Yeah?”
Running your thumb over his jaw, you smile at him. “I missed you.”
Aaron grins and his dimples move under your hand. “I missed you too.”
And then he’s moving closer, reaching out to cup your face in his own warm hands, angling your head so that his lips slot perfectly against yours. The kiss is soft and sweet, and you find yourself sinking further against him as he smiles into the kiss. When it’s over and the two of you pull apart, slowly so as to not separate so soon, his eyes find yours and his smile widens.
“That was…” you start, trailing off as you nuzzle your nose against his cheek and close your eyes.
“Something we should have done a long time ago?”
You let out a huff of laughter. “Definitely. But I’m glad we did it now.”
“Me too,” he mutters, pressing his lips against yours again. The short hairs of his beard rub against your face in a satisfying way. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with my beard though, would it?”
“Oh, it has everything to do with it,” you reply, pressing a kiss against his jaw. “You better be keeping this, Agent.”
“If you say so, Agent,” he chuckles. “Although I’m not sure Jack will like it.”
“Kids can’t always get what they want, tell him to suck it up.”
Aaron snorts at that. “Maybe you should be the one to tell him that; I don’t think he’d like to hear that from me. Maybe over dinner later this week?”
You raise an eyebrow. “You want me to have dinner with you and Jack already?”
His face falls ever so slightly. “I’m moving too fast, aren’t I? I just figured that you and Jack already know each other pretty well and–”
“Aaron,” you laugh, interrupting him. You smooth your fingers over his beard, admiring the way it frames his face perfectly for a few moments before meeting his eyes again. “It’s okay, I understand. I’d… I’d love that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smile. “Does Friday work?”
“Friday, Friday,” he mutters, looking down at the ground in thought. “Hm, I don’t know…” He meets your gaze and laughs when you give him a look. “Yes, yes that’ll work. How about 7pm?”
“That’s perfect,” you reply, pressing your lips against his one more time. “I should get back to work now.”
“Right, yeah. See you later.”
You wave to him and make your way out of his office, immediately aware of all the eyes on you. Derek is both smirking and glowering at you, no doubt mad about the fact he had to clean up the mess, but there’s a coffee in his and everyone else’s hand so there’s no doubt he did it. When you glance back at the office, you realise that Aaron’s blinds were open the entire time and the team had a view of everything that just happened.
Great.
Ignoring the small anxious pit in your stomach over that, you stroll over to casually pour yourself a new coffee before making your way to your desk. You sit down and turn on your screen, focusing on the task at hand, when Emily approaches you with a smirk.
“What?”
“So, you and Hotch, huh?”
You laugh and gently push her away. “Yeah, what about it?”
“Nothing! Just didn’t realise you had such a thing for beards!”
“Shut it, Prentiss.”
“Or what?” She cackles.
You roll your eyes and laugh again, looking up at Aaron’s office once more to see him already looking back at you, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. It makes you feel light and you can’t wait until Friday rolls around.
tags: @hotchs-big-hands @criminalskies
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#bearded aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner beard#comfortember#comfortember 2023#cas writes
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Magical Vandalism
Prompt fill for this : "Stephen gets arrested, and calls the only person he knows who might actually be able to post bail: Tony Stark." @ironstrangeprompts
“Boss, an unsaved number is calling you on your personal number.”
Tony paused his soldering and looked up. “Who?”
“The number is registered as belonging to Officer Jennifer from NYPD.”
“How’d they get my number.” And why would they call him? This was very odd. People didn’t just get Tony’s personal number like that.
“I’m not sure, Boss,” FRIDAY replied.
Tony huffed out an airy breath and put the soldering iron down on the table. “Put them through.”
There was a click as the call was accepted.
“Tony?”
Tony stilled.
That voice.. Tony hadn’t heard that deep, baritone voice since 2008. Since the day the person Tony had loved had dumped him, had walked out on him.
“..Hello?”
Why call now? Why, after all these years of radio silence?
Who was Tony kidding. Of course he knew exactly why Stephen was calling him now.
He knew about the accident from nearly a year ago. He knew Stephen’s hands had been destroyed. He knew the doc had driven himself bankrupt trying to heal his hands, with no success. He knew Stephen had no money to his name and had disappeared off the grid nearly 9 months ago, his trails ending cold in Nepal.
He knew all of this, because he’d been keeping up with news on Stephen, all these years. Had been actively trying to track him after his disappearance.
He shouldn’t have. He should’ve just moved on, like Stephen had.
Perhaps there was a small part of him that just couldn’t stop loving Stephen, even after all this time.
“Tony.. are you there?”
Tony should end the call right then and there. But.. damn it, he was worried. Stephen had been completely off the grid for the past 9 months and suddenly he was calling Tony, of all people. Tony was worried.
“Yes,” he replied after a pause, managing to keep his voice even.
There was a sigh from the other end, like Stephen was relieved that he’d been answered. “I.. I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anyone else to call. I need.. help.”
Tony sighed, closing his eyes. Part of him wanted to just refuse it and end the call.
But...
Damn it, Stephen.
“What do you need?”
“I.. ah..” A short pause. “I got arrested and can’t afford the bail money.”
Tony blinked. “You got arrested,” he parroted, a little disbelieving.
“Yes.”
“What did you do? Theft?”
“What? No! Why would I do that!?”
Because you’re broke, Tony wanted to say. Instead he said, “Then what did you do!?”
“Wow, your faith in me is astounding,” Stephen said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “What makes you think I did anything at all?”
True, Stephen could’ve been falsely arrested. But, he supposed, good to know that Stephen still hadn’t lost any of his wit and sarcasm. “Well then, let’s hear it. What did they charge you with?”
“Vandalism.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Right, like I don’t do it myself every other day.” Though, he had certainly gotten better at reducing the collateral damage during fights over the past years. He could safely say that he was proud of the progress he’d made on that front. “What exactly did they charge you with?”
“... Breaking all windows of a neighborhood.”
Tony was silent for a moment.
“Why!?”
Stephen sighed tiredly. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”
“You broke all the windows of an entire neighborhood, accidentally.”
Stephen groaned. “Just help me. Please.”
Oh, Tony had questions. He wouldn’t sit quietly until they were answered. “Alright, give me the address.”
A quick flight later, Tony landed in front of a local police station in Manhattan.
Ignoring the gawking looks some officers shot at him, he strode in, eyes searching for a particular figure.
When they did finally fall on the figure inside a cabin, Tony froze.
There, sitting on a chair in front of an officer’s desk, was one Stephen Strange.
He wore the weirdest clothes; blue, thick, and highly intricate robes. They couldn’t have been farther from Stephen’s fashion sense. His hands rested on the desk, eyes closed, body a little hunched. He looked paler than Tony remembered him being, and.. was that scabbed blood on his forehead?
Just what the hell had happened?
“Mr. Stark,” someone squeaked out, drawing both of Tony and Stephen’s attentions. The officer who had just entered through the door was looking up at Tony with comically wide eyes. “You’re really here. I didn’t believe when this man claimed that he’s contacted you.”
Tony quickly put on his media persona and stepped closer to the officer, offering a hand. “Officer Jeremy, right?”
The officer shook his hand. “It’s Officer Jennifer.”
Tony gave a nod. “Right. Now what do we need to post bail for my good friend over here?”
It didn’t take long to bail Stephen out, and he was given his strange assortment of belongings back — a red cape which, Tony thought, would look dramatic as hell if worn, a weird looking double ring, and at least half a dozen odd ropes and belts, which, what?
“They weren’t sure how I did it,” Stephen explained at Tony’s judgmental look, “so they confiscated everything I had on me.” He sighed tiredly, wrapping the belts around his waist.
No, that was decidedly not why Tony had put on a judgmental look. Why do you have so many belts? WHY are you putting on all of them, weirdo?
Tony closed his eyes and shook his head, as if that would dispel the questions in his mind that were beginning to pile up into a tall mountain. He opened his eyes to ask the most important question, “Well, how did you do it?”
Stephen paused just as he was putting on the weird ring on his fingers, and glanced up at Tony with a considering look.
It was then that Tony truly noticed the state Stephen was in.
He was beyond exhausted. It was visible in his expression, in the way his face was droopy, in the way those gray eyes seemed to be devoid of energy. He looked like he was sick and hadn’t slept at all in a while.
“Magic,” he said, making Tony blink.
He gave Stephen’s clothing a once-over again. “Did you become a street magician? Your choice of costume still sucks.”
Stephen gave him a dry look, but quickly moved on. He placed a shaking hand on the neatly folded red cape held by his other hand — and oh, the scars; Tony felt a pang in his heart at the sight — and then, to Tony’s surprise, golden light came to life under Stephen’s fingers, drawing perfect, geometrical shapes and unreadable symbols on the red cloth’s surface. Startled, Tony flinched back by a step. Stephen didn’t seemed to have noticed, focused on the cloth.
Tony watched as the.. magic? — magic, magic like Loki’s, magic like Wanda’s, magic meaning bad — pulsed a wave of gold through the red cloth, and the next moment, the cloth was.. animated? Vibrating? Wiggling?
“Is that moving by itself!?” Tony yelped.
“The Cloak is sentient and capable of moving, yes,” was Stephen’s answer.
And, okay, Tony’s day had just gotten all kinds of strange.
“They are more drained than me,” Stephen added as a corner of the cape moved weakly and wrapped around his free wrist. He returned the gesture, wrapping his shaking fingers around it. “But they’ll recover.”
Something about that exchange was.. strangely affectionate. Tony found it hard to tear his eyes away from Stephen, who was looking down at that animated piece of cloth with concern and relief in his eyes.
And then the moment was over, and Stephen took a step backwards, putting distance between Tony and him.
That tenderness in his eyes from only a moment ago was gone.
“Thank you, Tony. I.. didn’t think that you’d respond.”
Well, there had been a fair chance of Tony ending the call at one point. But at the end, his worry had won over his resentment towards this man.
Tony gave a nonchalant shrug, trying to play it off like he didn’t actually care. “Well I was bored, and this turned out to be somewhat interesting.”
“Right.”
They stood awkwardly for a few long moments.
“I, uh, I’ll owe you one. I should go now,” Stephen said and turned away.
“Wait,” Tony called out, making him pause.
Stephen turned to him.
“And how do I contact you for the favor?”
Stephen paused. Tony was sure that he’d get a number. Instead he got something entirely unexpected, but not unwelcome.
“177A, Bleecker Street.”
And Stephen disappeared through shattered mirrors.
Tony stared at the empty air in front of him.
“What the fuck!?”
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i was never there
bang chan one shot/imagine
SFW but some allusions to NSFW activities.
toxic relationship! toxic!chan toxic!reader
summary: to everyone’s disapproval, you and chan just cant seem to leave one another alone.
1.2k words
Chan knows that the two of you breaking up was for the best. Your relationship was unstable and toxic, borderline obsessive. You both had become distant from important things in your life because all you cared about was each other.
If he knows that then why is he feeling so guilty about having someone else in his bed? Why does he feel guilty that it isn’t you in some foreign country with him instead of some girl he met at a bar? Why has he only been able to write the worst heart broken lyrics that he has ever thought of?
Despite his better judgement, after his hookup leaves, he sits up and grabs his phone. He unlocks it and instantly opens social media, hoping that you had posted something, posted anything, just so he could see your face.
He feels like he’s going crazy. He checks your social media at least 10 times a day. He doesn’t care if he’s the first view, he just needs to see you. He opens your profile and sees you posted a story and of course he opens it.
13 s ago
He chews his bottom lip as he analyzes the photo you had posted. It looked like you were having brunch and mimosas but that isn’t what bothered him. What bothered him was the fact that there was somebody sitting at the seat across from you.
There was another plate and another glass but the chair was empty, something you had purposely done to try to maintain your privacy, he assumes.
Maybe it’s the drinks he had earlier in the night or the post nut high but something makes him open his texts and message you, despite every fiber in his brain telling him not to.
Who are you with?
Why would he say that? Now he probably looks insane. But your response is almost instant, not even a minute later.
it’s almost 5 am over there. why are u up?
He chuckles at his phone. You’re right, it’s 4:47am where he is but he can’t help his stomach doing a flip at the thought that you know exactly where in the world that he is. It makes him feel slightly less crazy that you seem to have been watching him just as much as he has been watching you.
Keeping tabs on me now? He types the message and sends it before he thinks too much about it. This is the first time the two of you have talked in almost a month and he feels like he’s getting an adrenaline high.
Chan stands from the bed and heads to his bathroom before turning the shower on and staring at his phone as he waits for the water to heat up.
ik YOU aren’t talking about keeping tabs on anyone. somehow you see everything i post within a minute of it being posted. care to explain? He can sense your sassy attitude through the screen and smirks down at his phone.
I can’t miss you?
Risky. Risky reply and he knows it but its all or nothing at this point.
He sends the message before he can think too hard about it. He sees you’re typing then the bubble disappears. This happens a few times before he finally decides to get into the shower.
A few countries away, you’re staring down at your phone, debating how you should reply.
“I fucked up,” you glance up at your coworker, a new friend that you had made. She had listened to you rant and rant about your ex boyfriend and it had actually brought the two of you pretty close.
“What happened?” She raises an eyebrow at you as she takes another sip of mimosa. you let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair before sliding your phone across the table to her. She reads the messages quickly before shaking her head in disbelief.
“He is fucking insane. Are you going to reply?” her words linger in the air for a minute before you grab your phone and read over the messages again.
“Should I even reply? This is so toxic. I’m feeding into him. Fuck!” You drag your hand down your face, frustrated and the waitress returns to your table at the perfect time.
“Can we get another bottle of champagne?” You ask with a polite smile and she nods before walking away.
“Y/n, it’s 11 in the morning,” your new friend eyes you from across the table and you shrug.
“I’ve officially been driven to drinking. I just need to get drunk and then I’ll go home and fall asleep then I’ll wake up and text him back,” you nod at her and she chuckles but lets you continue drinking anyways. Your phone vibrates again on the table and you flip it over, Chan had texted you again.
“What did he say?” Your friend already knows who it is without you having to say a word. You lean forward and unlock your phone and your heart drops at the message.
Baby, I need you. I miss you. Come to the show in Seoul.
You choke on air and start coughing before sliding your phone to your friend so she can read the messages. Her jaw drops and just as she hands your phone back, a notification pops up at the top of your screen; an incoming call from ‘Christopher Bahng’.
Without thinking you answer the call, excusing yourself from the table and stepping onto the patio, right next to your table so your friend can still see you.
“Chris…” you breathe his name out, it feels like a stab to your chest when you hear him let out a breath on the other side.
“I’ve missed hearing you say my name. I miss you so much, baby. Did you see my message?” His voice is slightly slurred over the phone and you recognize the influence that alcohol probably has over this entire interaction but honestly, you don’t even care.
“I saw it. Chris I don’t think that’s a good idea-”
“I don’t care if it’s a good idea or not. I just need to see you. I’m going to lose my fucking mind if I don’t get to hold you soon,” his voice is desperate and you can hear how overcome with emotions he is.
“We aren’t together anymore. This is exactly why. We aren’t healthy for each other, baby. You know that,” the nickname slips from your mouth like a habit and you immediately gulp when you realize what you said.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about anything if you aren’t at my side,” his confession just further nails it into your head that the two of you aren’t good for each other. You chew on your lip, pulling your sweater tighter around yourself.
“Fine.” Before you realize it, you have agreed to see him, just one more time. This will be the final time, your final goodbye.
Or the cycle will start over and you’ll be back in the endless toxicity that you two have been in for a long time.
“God, I love you so much, y/n,” his voice is raspy and you can tell he’s getting tired.
“I know, Chris. Send me two tickets so I can bring my friend since you ruined our brunch,” you chuckle and you hear him laugh on the other end.
“Yes ma’am,” he replies and you feel your phone vibrate, probably the notification that he just sent you the tickets.
#skz#skz changbin#skz fanfic#skz felix#skz fluff#skz hyunjin#skz imagines#skz minho#skz scenarios#skz bangchan#skz bang chan#stray kids bang chan#christopher bang#bang chan#chris bang#christopher bahng#bahng chan#chan bang#stray kids minho#stray kids seungmin#stray kids hyunjin#jisung smut#han smut#seungminnie#skz channie#channie#stray kids headcanons#stray kids one shot#stray kids han#ihave-atummyache
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Deal Breaker
Trans!Santiago Garcia X GN!Reader • Rating: PG Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info •
A/N: Written for @romanarose's Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024! (Super late, but this is for the 'coming out' theme, thank you for letting me post it so late💚) This is super self-indulgent and just like *dreamy sigh* what would be the nicest reaction someone would have to someone else telling them they're trans.
Summary: Santi has something to tell you.
Warnings: overuse of italics, swearing, Santi being anxious, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning.
Word Count: 1014
Santi paced back and forth outside of your house, practically wearing a groove into the pavement. (And trying not to walk into the lamp post again.)
He’d been there for over ten minutes, trying his best to work up enough nerve to knock on your door.
You’d been on one date, a chill one. Just a drink and cake at a little coffee shop he’d recommended. (Or, more correctly, Will had recommended and Santi had taken credit for.) You’d both ended up staying there talking for almost four hours.
You've been messaging everyday, joking, sending voice notes, videos and pictures. Everything was going great. He liked you. A lot.
And now he was going to fuck it all up.
“Hi, just wanted to let you know…” He muttered under his breath, repeating what he was going to say, what he needed to say. “I just thought you should know… you know… before this gets any further, not that things have to get further, I mean… I want to say I like you and I’m… I’m…”
“Santi?”
He jumps, visibly jumps, his eyes wide like a rabbit startled by headlights.
You find it quite endearing the way he looks at you, a bright panic. You’d just been grabbing some last minute bits and pieces and your local corner shop for the meal you were making together tonight.
“Trans!” Santi says a little too loud.
“What?”
“Erm…”
“Trains?”
“No.”
“What did you say?”
He pauses, biting his bottom lip. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Trans.” He says very softly, closing his eyes for a second. This was not how it was meant to go. “I’m… I wanted to tell you before… I really like you and… you should know… I’m, I’m trans. I’m a trans man.”
He looks up at you, ready to see disgust. Rejection.
Instead you smile warmly and nod. “Okay, thank you for telling me.” You point to your front door, “you wanna go inside?”
He pauses, staring at you for a long moment as his brain tries to and two and two together but keeps getting minus seven. “I… erm… inside?”
“For the food, the meal date? We were gonna cook together?” You say politely, mistaking his confusion.
“You, you still want to… go out with me?” He doesn’t mean for the words to come out so softly, so small.
It’s your turn to pause and truly absorb what he said. Your eyes widening as realisation dawns. “Oh, of course! Santi, fuck, sorry,” you put you hand on his arm and squeeze reassuringly. “It’s not a problem for me that you're trans, no problem at all. Doesn’t affect anything. I really like you too.”
He gives you a brilliant smile, all of his nervous energy outpouring as relief washes over.
He nods and walks with you as you both move towards the door, taking your shopping bag for you as you fish out your keys.
“Do you, erm,” he pauses for a second to take off his shoes as you do the same, “do you have any… questions?”
You turn away just to shut the door before you look back at him. “Questions?”
“Yeah… about the trans stuff.” He shakes his head, trying to sound more assertive. Fuck, being shot at was always easier than this. “I mean, me being trans.”
“Do you usually get questions?”
He nods.
You pause, thinking it over for a second. “Do you want me to ask questions?” You say sincerely.
He smiles and rubs the back of his head. “You know, no one's ever asked that before.”
You smile back.
“Erm, yeah, yeah,” he nods, “questions would be good actually. Normal.”
You laugh good naturedly, “kay,” you make your way to the kitchen, pointing out the different rooms as you go.
“Your house is really nice.”
“Thank you.”
“And thank you for, well, being so… for being normal about how I blurted it out outside, usually I’m a bit more together.” He says, a touch of bashfulness in his tone.
“Are people usually not normal? Wait, that’s a numb as fuck question.”
Santi laughs as you pull a face. “A lot of people are very normal about it,” he smiles, “but I don’t tell a lot of people.”
You nod as you start to unpack your bag, Santi jumps in to help. “So, when did you transition?”
“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “I know it’s a cliche but I kind of always knew, you know?”
“Not cliche, just a common experience.” You smile and nudge your shoulder into his.
He grins. “Started ‘dressing like a boy’ when I was 15, but it wasn’t until I was 18 and out of the house that I changed my name and stuff.”
You nod.
“Been on T for a long time now. Managed to get top surgery when I was 24.” He pauses, “sorry, I’m word vomiting all over the place here and-”
“Hey,” you smile warmly, taking his hands, there’s a slight tremor to them. You rub your fingers over his skin reassuringly. “It’s good, great. Not oversharing, thank you for wanting to share with me.”
He returned the expression a little shyly, “thanks, I just…” He screws up his eyes and sighs, “need to overshare one more thing.”
“Go ahead.” You give his hands a soft squeeze.
“I’m, I haven’t had bottom surgery.” He swallows, keeping his eyes closed, “I don’t know if that’s a deal breaker for you, I understand if it is.”
You lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Not a problem.”
He opens his eyes quickly, looking at you like you painted every pink sunset cloud in the sky, before he presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. “Thank you.” He mutters, stroking your cheek and kissing you again.
He slowly steps closer, pressing flush against you and snaking his right hand to rest on your hip, giving him all the leverage he needs to gently press you back against the counter top and slip his tongue into your mouth.
It is a long time before the half unpacked groceries are remembered.
Thank you for reading!
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omg I just saw that the requests are open, but I don't even know what to request. I just know I want angst, lol
Here you go anon 😉
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You've had many arguments like this before, and just as he usually he did, he waved you off. "I was busy," he says, his voice devoid of any remorse.
As you stared at him, your eyes welled up with tears. "You're always busy, always distracted," you said, your voice shaking. "I feel like I'm losing you, like you're slipping away from me."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just stressed, okay? Work has been crazy."
"Work is always crazy," you shot back. "But that's no excuse for neglecting me. I need you, too, you know."
He looked at you, his eyes empty. "I know, bébé. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."
But you knew he wouldn't. You could see the distance growing between you, like a chasm widening. You felt like you were fading away, disappearing from his life.
"I can't keep doing this," you whispered, turning away.
"Doing what?" he asked, his voice flat.
"Being invisible," you replied, your heart shattering.
You were done. You pushed past him and started packing your suitcase while Kylian watched, frozen to his spot.
As you zipped up your suitcase, he finally realized you were serious. "Wait, we can talk about this. Don't go!" he pleaded, grabbing your arm.
You shook him off, your eyes blazing. "You should have thought of that before you ignored me for weeks."
He blocked your path, desperation creeping in. "I'll fix it, I promise. I'll make time for you, I'll listen—"
"It's too late," you said, your voice cold. "I deserve better than someone who only notices me when I'm leaving."
He grasped at your hands, his eyes wild. "Please, bébé, we can work this out. You know I love you."
You looked at him, your expression softening for a moment. "I love you too, but love isn't enough. I need someone who will actually be there for me."
With a newfound strength, you pushed past him and headed for the door.
"Where will you go?" he called after you, panic rising.
"Somewhere I'll be seen," you replied, your voice fading down the hallway.
He caught up to you in the hallway, his heart racing. "Chérie, please, don't go!" he begged, blocking the door.
You tried to push past him, but he grasped your arms, holding you in place. "Let me go!" You shouted, struggling against his grip.
But he refused to release you. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'll do anything. Just please don't leave me."
At first, you resisted, your body stiff and unyielding. But as he held you, his desperation and fear seeping into his words, you began to break down. Tears streamed down your face, and you let out a sob.
He held you tighter, his own tears mingling with yours. "I'm so sorry, amour," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I was so blind. I didn't realize what I was losing. Forgive me, please."
As you stood there, clinging to each other, the tension and anger began to melt away, replaced by a deep longing and regret.
As a lab technician, you had a stable and quiet life. He, on the other hand, was a star in the soccer world. You met at a charity event, and your whirlwind romance captivated everyone around you.
Initially, he was sweet and attentive, showering you with love and affection. But as his career soared, he became a darling of the sports world. Endorsements, interviews, and games kept him away from home for weeks at a time.
You tried to be supportive, but the distance and constant scrutiny began to take a toll. You felt like you were losing him to the spotlight, and he didn't seem to notice.
Red carpet events and glamorous parties replaced your cosy nights. He'd post photos with models and celebrities, and you would wonder if he was still yours.
The media attention suffocated you. Every move you made was scrutinized, every word twisted. You began to feel like a ghost in his life, invisible and irrelevant.
Despite his assurances, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was drifting away. And as you packed your bags, you wondered if you were just a relic of his past, a reminder of a life he'd outgrown.
As you cried in his arms now, you remembered the countless times he'd let you down. The forgotten promises, the ignored texts, the absent nights. You felt like a fool for still loving him, for still holding on.
"Why did you forget my birthday?" You asked, your voice trembling.
He looked away, shamefaced. "I was caught up in a game and—"
"A game?" You interrupted, your anger flaring. "Don't I mean more to you than a game!"
He sighed, pulling you close again. "You do, you do. I'm so sorry. I was wrong to prioritize my career over you. Can you ever forgive me?"
You hesitated, unsure if you could truly forgive and forget. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw the genuine remorse and longing there. Maybe, just maybe, you could rebuild your relationship, stronger and wiser this time around.
You were about to answer him when you suddenly felt sick. You ran to the bathroom and started throwing up. Kylian is right behind you. He holds your hair back as you empty your lunch into the toilet. When your stomach stops contracting, you flush the toilet and wipe your mouth with a tissue. You sit on the bathroom, feeling weak and tired.
As you sat on the bathroom floor, catching your breath, you felt a wave of panic wash over you. Could it be? You quickly grabbed a pregnancy test from the cabinet and followed the instructions. The waiting period felt like an eternity.
Finally, the result showed two pink lines. You were pregnant.
Stunned, you slid down to the floor, your mind racing. How could this have happened? You had been so careful...or had you?
You thought back to your last intimate moment, and realization dawned on you. You had been reckless, caught up in the heat of the moment after another argument.
As you gazed at the positive test, he noticed your expression change from shock to disbelief. He knelt beside you, concern etched on his face. "Hey, what's wrong?"
You handed him the test, your hand trembling. He looked at it, and his eyes widened in surprise. Then, a radiant smile spread across his face.
"We're having a baby?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy.
You nodded, still in shock.
He pulled you into a gentle embrace. "This is a sign, a second chance for us. We can make this work, together."
He looked into your eyes, his gaze sincere. "I know I haven't been the best partner, but I promise to change. I'll be there for you, for our child. Let's do this, together."
His words touched your heart, and for the first time in months, you felt a glimmer of hope.
"Really?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, his smile unwavering. "Really. I love you, and I want to be a family."
Tears of joy streaming down your face, you nodded, and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.
The future still held uncertainties, but in that moment, you both knew you would face it together, as a team.
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I'm a sucker for happy endings so I gave it a fluff ending. Hope you like it 🙂
#kylian mbappe x reader#kylian mbappe fanfic#kylian mbappe imagine#kylian mbappe fluff#kylian mbappe angst#mbappe x reader
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Chapter warnings: language, alcohol use, sexual tension, tiny bit of smut, angst, pretty long chapter lol
Chapter Five
Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak
AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)
Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.
Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters
September 2003
Work had been so busy you barely realized the summer was coming to an end. You haven’t seen a whole lot of Joel lately, save for your monthly accounting meetings with him. He would still cast glances in your direction, with a discreet smile if you caught his eye, but your one-on-one interactions have been minimal. It didn’t bother you. Actually, you were relieved because Colleen had stopped bringing up her suspicions about your relationship with him.
On this particular day, Colleen was more fixated on the other Miller brother. She was posted up in your cubical, quietly recounting for you her latest interactions with Tommy. She was frustrated because he seemed to be giving her the cold shoulder. When she caught him in the breakroom early one morning alone, she confronted him about it, and he explained that he needed to stop socializing with the women in the office.
“I knew what I was getting into when we started hooking up, but it still took me by surprise, you know?” Colleen whispered, looking distraught. She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know, maybe I was starting to get feelings for him, and I thought he might be, too. I'm such an idiot."
“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked. You felt bad for your friend.
Her gaze shot up to meet yours, suddenly excited. She clasped her hands together with a huge grin.
"Yes! Let’s go out to a bar tonight! Pretty please! You never go with us, and I swear it would make me feel so much better.” Colleen had you right where she wanted you, and you fell for it. You rolled your eyes.
"Okay," you agreed.
“Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll see if Debbie and Kyle can come, too! We can make it a fun night out.” Kyle was the newest hire in your department, who also happened to be gay. You had grown to really like him the past several weeks. He clicked with the three of you instantly. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea.
You let yourself get a little excited at the prospect of a night out. It was a Thursday, so you told yourself as you headed to the bar to meet your friends that you had to limit yourself to two drinks. The department had a meeting with Joel the next morning and you knew it would be obvious if you were all hungover.
You walked up to the front of the bar, waving to your friends huddled in a circle waiting for you. The days were still warm, but the nights were beginning to get cooler. You wished you had thought to grab a jacket to throw over your dress for the journey home, but the alcohol would have to warm you up instead. You were relieved to find that you dressed appropriately for the night out: you had on a sleeveless black dress that hugged your hips and showed just the right amount of cleavage. You paired it with a pair of red pumps you hardly wore that gave you just a few extra inches of height. Colleen wore a similarly flirty bright pink dress with matching heels. Even Debbie, who typically wore dress pants to the office, was dressed up in a modest skirt. Kyle clued in on you first, giving you a low wolf whistle when he saw your outfit. Men had it so much easier: he simply wore a white button-down shirt with the first two buttons opened, revealing a smooth chest underneath, and a pair of black jeans.
“You look amazing, girl!” Kyle pulled you into a hug and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. The four of you headed towards the bouncer leaning up against the door.
Colleen hurried over to him and planted a kiss on his cheek, which he returned. She spoke to him for a few seconds while glancing back at the three of you, just out of earshot. Then he beckoned you all over and moved out of the way so you could squeeze inside. Colleen stood on her tiptoes to give him another kiss on the cheek, and followed you in, much to the annoyance of the people patiently waiting in line.
“Is this an exclusive spot or something?” you asked Kyle, who had removed his arm from your shoulders to grab the wallet from his back pocket.
“Kind of!” he shouted over the music. “It’s not super exclusive, but it's a little swanky.” He approached the bar to get the bartender’s attention, and then turned back to the three of you, asking what you wanted to drink.
Once you had drinks in hand, the group of you weaved around the clusters of people drinking and chatting until you found a small table to sit down.
The group of you talked loudly over the music, mostly about work, and the crowdedness of the bar. You casually glanced around, sipping on your glass of wine and taking in the beautiful chandeliers above you. The bar itself was long and made from a very dark wood, with leather covered stools pushed up against it, all of them filled with people. There was a big screen tv behind the bartenders that currently was playing some sultry music video you didn't recognize.
You noticed there were staircases on either side of the room that led to another floor, which appeared to be divided up into smaller, partially enclosed rooms. You assumed people much richer than you occupied those rooms with their friends, relying on bottle service rather than waiting at the bar for drinks.
The laughter coming from your friends drew your attention back, your vision getting a little unsteady from the wine. Your cheeks were starting to feel warm as you laughed along with them, watching as Kyle and Colleen stand up to dance to a song that just started.
You were happy Colleen seemed to be in a good mood tonight, watching as Kyle swung her around on the dance floor. Debbie stood up to get herself another drink, but you put your hand out to stop her.
"It's my turn to buy, I'll get it!" You yelled to her. She smiled and relented, reminding you of her drink order as you got up to head to the bar.
You pushed your way through the throngs of people, the place looking even more packed than before. Your head was swimming just slightly, a nice buzz settling in from the two glasses of wine you had. You reminded yourself you should probably stop drinking; it was almost midnight and you had promised yourself your max was two drinks.
You leaned against the bar, waiting to get the attention of one of the bartenders. You found it to be difficult, occasionally reaching a hand out but failing to catch their eye.
Finally, the bartender turned and looked right at you, or you thought he was looking at you, but he was actually looking right over your shoulder. You twisted around and found Joel standing directly behind you, his eyes still on the bartender, and was pointing down, flagging him down for you.
You gazed up at him, admiring up close his strong jaw and his deep brown eyes. Suddenly, you realized you really missed seeing him outside of those meetings. You missed his familiar scent of leather and citrus invading your senses, the electricity you felt when you sat across from him in his office, and... oh shit, you were too tipsy to interact with him right now.
He looked back down at you and smiled, then his gaze dipped down to take in the dress you were wearing, and his smile faltered a bit. He cleared his throat and pointed towards the bartender, who was waiting for your order. You leaned forward on the bar again and yelled your drink order to him, deciding against your better judgement to get another glass of wine.
The bartender disappeared to get your drinks, and you turned your attention back to Joel. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans with a black button-down, which was opened, revealing a plain white t-shirt underneath and clutching a leather jacket in his hand. He looked really good.
"Thank you," you said, trying to collect yourself.
Joel frowned and cupped his hand behind his ear. You stretched on your tiptoes and leaned up towards his him. You left one of your hands on the bar, and the other gently rested on his shoulder so you wouldn't fall.
"Thank you," you repeated so he could hear.
You had never been this close to him before. You absorbed the residual smell of shampoo from his hair, and the whiskey on his breath. You felt him exhale gently on the side of your neck, giving you goosebumps, and you had to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.
You lowered yourself back down, forgetting you were wearing heels taller than you were used to. You stumbled a bit, but regained your balance quickly since your hand was still planted on the bar. Nonetheless, Joel shot his arm out around your waist and pulled you close, in an effort to keep you from falling, which he realized too late was unnecessary.
Your eyes trailed up his chest to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. Joel tensed at the feeling of your body pressed against his. You looked so fucking beautiful in that dress, it was driving him crazy. He had noticed you from his private table on the upper floor. He tried to focus on the people he was with, but he couldn't get his mind off you. When he saw you walking to the bar alone, he found an excuse to leave the table and follow you.
Joel's gaze kept flicking back and forth between your lips and your eyes. You were frozen to the ground, neither of you wanting the embrace to end. An "excuse me!" over the music dragged your attention away from Joel to the other side of the bar. The bartender told you the total as he pushed the two drinks towards you.
Begrudgingly, you untangled yourself from Joel's hold to grab your purse. Joel put his hand over yours to stop you from opening your wallet.
"Put it on my tab!" He shouted at the bartender, who nodded and gave a thumbs up. You looked back up at him with a smile.
"You didn't have to do that!"
He shrugged it off and looked down at what you had ordered. Your wine and Debbie's mixed drink. He cocked his eyebrow at you.
"Two?" he teasingly asked.
You giggled, the alcohol was going straight to your head. You jerked your head back towards your table and explained "Debbie!"
Joel looked in the direction of your table and saw Colleen, a man he barely recognized, and he now remembered Debbie from that night in the conference room.
You scooped up the two drinks from the bar and turned to thank him again, but he stopped you.
"Why don't you give Debbie her drink and we can go someplace quieter?" he said in your ear, making your breath catch in your throat.
If you had been more sober, you would have made an excuse about needing to stay with your friends. You took a sip from your glass, examining Joel's face. You wondered if he had too much to drink. Worried if he had, he would regret spending time alone with you in this type of setting. But he didn't look like he was that drunk, so you gave him a sharp nod and quickly made your way back to your friends.
You handed Debbie her drink and shouted, "I'll be right back, I'm going to get some fresh air!"
"Hold on, I'll come with you, I just have to pee!" Debbie yelled, but you shook your head. "It's alright! You stay here, I won't be long!"
"Are you sure?!"
You nodded firmly and gave a thumbs up, turning around before she could change her mind.
"Be safe!" she shouted as you disappeared into the crowd.
Joel watched you talking to your friends, hidden from them in the thicket of bodies. He wasn't sure what his plan was, he just couldn't let you go yet. He had been waiting for the right time to be honest with you. Maybe tonight, with some liquid courage, was that time.
He eyed your approaching form up and down appreciatively, his gaze lingering on your red heels. He imagined those heels on his shoulders as he thrusted into you, spread out on his bed and moaning his name. He tried to blink the fantasy away as you stopped before him, looking up at him expectantly. One step at a time.
He placed his arm around your shoulders and turned you towards the door. The air was much brisker than when you had arrived a couple hours ago, but you didn't mind. The mixture of alcohol and Joel's body heat was enough.
The two of you walked away from the line of people still waiting to get in. You slowed your pace and leaned back against the bar's cool brick wall, looking up at Joel hazily.
He took a deep breath and rested his arm on the wall above your head, giving you your space but remaining close.
You took another sip from your glass before asking "What're you doing here?"
Realizing it didn't come out how you intended, you added "this bar, I mean. D'you come here a lot?" Your words were beginning to slur.
He shifted his weight and fixed his gaze on something down the street. "It's my birthday tomorrow."
Your jaw dropped and you playfully shoved his shoulder. "I didn't know that! Happy Birthday! I should've been the one to buy you a drink!"
He smirked and brought his gaze down towards you once again.
"Nah, no need, sweetheart. It's not a big deal. Some of the guys at work insisted on bringin' me out tonight. Couldn't do it tomorrow, got plans with Tommy." You gasped at Tommy's name.
"Oh, no, is Tommy here? 'Cause Colleen was really upset earlier-" but Joel cut you off.
"No, he's on a business trip out west. We are lookin' to acquire a company out there, expand our footprint. He's comin' back tomorrow," he assured you.
"Oh, good." You relaxed, still gazing up at Joel. Your eyes trailed along his broad shoulders and chest, which were still partially caging you in. You thought about how it might feel to have his arms wrapped around you, what it would feel like to have his weight pressing against your body. A shiver went down your spine.
Joel noticed. He gently took the glass from your hand and placed it on a ledge nearby. He opened up the leather jacket he had in his other hand, motioning for you to turn around so he could put it on your shoulders. You pushed off against the wall and slowly turned, making sure you didn't stumble. He placed the cool, smooth leather carefully over your bare arms.
"Thank you," you whispered as you turned back to face him. He was looking down at you, desperately searching your eyes for something.
Feeling emboldened by the alcohol, you ran your hand up his stomach and grabbed his collar, pulling him toward you and pressing your mouth firmly on his.
He was stunned for a moment, but responded quickly. The hand that once held his jacket now cupped the side of your face, while his other arm returned to the wall above your head. You had lightly fallen back against the brick and brought both your hands to gently rest on his strong chest.
Strangely, the first thought in your head was of Justin. You were right for breaking up with him. You didn't feel a spark, but with Joel, your whole body felt on fire.
You moaned quietly, and he took that opportunity to deepen your kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips and massaging your own. You could taste a heady combination of whiskey and a hint of spearmint. It was heavenly. He pushed his mouth onto yours with more pressure, as his tongue hungrily increased its pace. You felt dizzy. So many months of buildup finally erupted in this moment. Your hands inched up to grasp his strong shoulders as he lowered himself down a fraction and pushed his upper body against yours. He moaned against your mouth and tightened his hold on your jaw. You felt your lower abdomen flutter and your panties soak with arousal.
A group of girls walked by the pair of you, giggling loudly, bringing you both back to reality. You pulled away gently, keeping your forehead pressed against his as you fought to catch your breath.
You both kept your eyes closed, panting and savoring the moment. Joel was the first to pull away. He looked down at you with heavy-lidded eyes.
"Come home with me," he whispered huskily.
You felt yourself clench at his words, so desperate to say yes. But you didn't want to be drunk your first time with him. You closed your eyes again and tipped your head back against the brick wall.
"I don't think it's a good idea," you whispered back. "I've had too much to drink, and I want to remember."
His breath hitched and his eyes squeezed shut. Fuck, he wanted you so badly. But he knew you were right. He reopened his eyes and looked back down at you, your head resting against the wall, eyelids still shut. He leaned forward, eager to kiss you again, but stopped himself: he knew if he did, he would never stop. So instead, he pushed off the wall and took your hand.
"Lemme get you back to your friends, they gotta be worried 'bout you by now."
You chewed your bottom lip as you reentered the bar, slipping his jacket off and handing it back before your friends could see. Behind you, he whispered in your ear, "You better get home, you got a big meeting with your boss tomorrow."
You turned to react, but he was already rushing back up the stairs towards his private room.
You woke up at 6am to your alarm clock blaring the voices of the local morning radio show. Your head pounded and your mouth was dry. You groaned as you rolled out of bed, quickly sitting back down when you got the spins. You chided yourself for not eating more before going out last night.
You headed to your bathroom, partially listening to the radio show as you peed. You had started to hear something about some infection overrunning hospitals in the area, but you had to turn the noise off before your head exploded.
Thankfully, a shower made you feel so much better. You only had the pounding headache to contend with now. As you applied your makeup, you took note of your swollen lips. Then the night before came rushing back to you. It hadn't been a dream, you really kissed Joel. And he invited you back to his place. Shit.
The hand holding your lipstick hovered above your mouth as you replayed the scene against the brick wall: his hand on your jaw, his tongue in your mouth, the way he tasted, the way he smelled...
You looked at the time. You couldn't dwell on it right now or you were going to miss your train. You snatched your purse from the table by the door, tripping over the hiking backpack you had forgotten to give back to Justin, and you locked your apartment door behind you.
When you walked into the accounting department, you saw Colleen slouched over her desk. She was wearing black pants with a sleeveless white blouse, a noticeable change from her usual pink dresses and skirts. You greeted her and she turned around to give you a weak smile.
"You're super hungover, too, huh?" you joked, setting your things down.
"Ugh, yes. I've never felt this shitty in my life, and I don't think I even had much to drink!"
You examined her face; she looked a lot worse than you felt. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked a little sweaty.
"Where did you run off to? When I got back inside, you had already left," you asked.
She perked up a little bit and said, "Oh, I went home with a really cute guy! He was super nice, but something kind of weird happened..."
You gave Colleen your full attention now, concerned. "What was it? Are you ok?"
"Oh yeah, I'm fine. But he... bit me. On the leg," she whispered. "Kind of hard. He even drew a little blood."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Are you sure you're ok? That sounds strange."
Colleen brushed you off and assured you she was fine, she said she just wasn't expecting it. You shrugged and turned back to your desk. You had more important matters to attend to anyway.
You rummaged around in the supply closet to find a loose piece of blue tissue paper. On your way into work you passed by a newspaper stand. You hardly ever stopped there before, but today you did, remembering it was Joel’s birthday. You looked around on the shelves that were next to the postcards, and you found a little something for him. You quickly wrapped it up in the used tissue paper and set it aside for later. The meeting was at 10am, you had two hours to get your game face on and shake the rest of your hangover.
Your team was already seated in the conference room for at least ten minutes before Joel stormed into the room, a stack of papers in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He didn't look like he was hungover, unlike Colleen who was getting worse by the minute. She was trying to nonchalantly hold her head up with her fist tucked under her chin, staring down at the table.
You chanced a look in Joel's direction once the meeting was underway, but he wouldn't look at you. In fact, he didn't look your way once the entire time. You were beginning to wonder if you had dreamed up what happened last night. Then the paranoia began to set in: what if he was mad at you because you refused to go home with him? He didn't seem that upset when you turned him down, but maybe you didn't notice in your drunken stupor.
The meeting was wrapping up, and he still didn’t cast one glance in your direction. Before he dismissed everyone, he asked Heather if you could bring the quarterly reports up to his office later. He still wouldn’t look at you, just directly at Heather, even when openly talking about you. You furrowed your brow, confused. Heather seemed a bit confused as well, but she assured him you would, looking over at you and nodding.
You got back to your desk, still perplexed about the cold shoulder from Joel. You sifted through the mail that was left for you while everyone was upstairs, and about 20 minutes later, Heather came into the room to give you the reports Joel requested. She reminded you to make copies and bring the originals back to her.
You stood up, shoving the small gift you got for Joel in your pants pocket, when your eyes fell on Colleen again, chugging water and sweating so much her hair was growing damp.
“Colleen! What is going on with you?” you exclaimed, shocked at how much she had deteriorated since that morning.
“Girl, I don’t know, but I need to go home. I think I have a fever, and” she dropped her voice lower, “that bite on my leg looks kind of nasty.”
"Oh my god," you gasped. "I heard on the radio today about some weird infection going around, you might have it! You should go to the ER!”
Colleen nodded but it looked like she was hardly listening to you.
"I just gotta go to the bathroom real quick and then I’m gonna leave. I’ll stop by Heather’s office before I go.”
“Do you need me to bring you anything? I can stop by later with some soup," you offered, but Colleen shook her head.
"I just need to sleep, but thanks," she said.
You parted ways with Colleen, only after promising to stop by this weekend to check on her, and made your way to the copy room before heading up to Joel’s office. Kyle was the only other person in the room when you got there.
“Hey!” you said, excited to see him. "Last night was so much fun!”
Kyle laughed and agreed.
"I just wish we got to dance together!" he said. "You disappeared outside for so long!”
You giggled, pushing the thoughts of your rendezvous with Joel from your mind, and stretched your arm out to him.
“Better late than never!” you said with a giggle.
Even though there was no music, you both swung each other around the copy room, laughing while Kyle tried, badly, to sing Beyoncé.
You felt like you finally belonged somewhere. So happy you had found some friends, and maybe even something more with Joel. You were actually making it work in New York City, like you always wanted. You giggled as Kyle wrapped his arms around your waist and continued to sing off key.
Joel was heading back from Heather’s office towards the elevator after she assured him that you were already on your way up to his office with the reports he requested. He had tossed and turned all night, replaying your kiss over and over. How soft your lips felt, the taste of the pinot grigio on your tongue, the feel of your fingertips digging into his shoulders… he was glad you had the presence of mind to not come home with him. He didn’t want to rush things with you, he wanted to do things right.
It was hard, but he had to force himself not to look at you during that meeting. If he did, he couldn't be sure if he would be able to hide his feelings for you in front of the whole accounting department. It's been so long since he felt this way about somebody, it was awakening something in him he thought was long gone.
He needed to get you alone. He had decided on a plan to ask you to dinner tomorrow night, and he wasn’t going to try to fuck you on the first date, either. He didn’t know what he was thinking last night – why would he push you like that? He wanted more, and he knew that took time.
He rounded the corner when he heard your beautiful laugh reach his ears. A smile stretched across his face before he could stop it: you just had that effect on him. He peered around the corner and froze at the scene before him.
There you were, with another man, in that fucking copy room, dancing and laughing with his arms around your waist. Joel’s smile quickly faded, and he saw red. His fists clenched at his sides, his anger boiling over.
Before he did something stupid, he marched to the elevator and got into the empty car, punching the number ‘10’ repeatedly, willing the doors to close faster.
Once he was in the safety of his own office with the door shut, he paced around the room replaying the events he had just witnessed. How could he read the situation so wrong? Of course you wouldn’t be interested in him, how could he be so stupid? And in that goddamn copy room, the same place he caught Amy with the CFO of his own fucking company. He was glad he at least refrained from pummeling the guy you were dancing with, unlike that time with Amy when he had nearly put that bastard into the hospital.
He had been so wrapped up in his anger that he didn’t hear his door open and you walk in.
“Joel?” you called out to him sweetly, which just pissed him off even more. How could you jump from one guy to the next without missing a beat?
He whipped around and saw you standing there, reports in one hand and something else clenched in the other one.
He stretched out his hand aggressively, scowl etched on his face.
“Give ‘em to me," he said gruffly.
You faltered for a moment, surprised at the hostility, but stepped forward and handed him the papers, which he all but ripped from your hand. Your smile quickly faded from your lips, the uncertainty settling in.
Shit, he IS pissed you didn’t sleep with him last night.
He sat down at his desk. Without any direction, you sat down nervously in the chair across from him, waiting patiently with his gift hidden in your lap. Maybe he is one of those people who hates their birthday and that's why he was moody. You looked down at your gift and decided if you gave it to him, maybe it would lift his spirits.
You raised your head, opening your mouth about to wish him a happy birthday, but clamped it shut when he suddenly cut you off.
“What the fuck do you think you��re doin’?” he asked darkly, still not looking up from the reports.
You stiffened, not sure what he was referring to. The anger in his tone made you anxious.
"W-what do you mean?”
His eyes shot up to meet yours, icy and hardened.
"You know exactly what I mean, prancin’ around this office every day, screwin’ anything that moves,” he snarled at you. “You think you can add me to your list? Use me, for what? A raise or somethin’? What’s your angle?”
You stared at him, jaw dropped, trying to process what he just said. This can’t be happening. What was going on? Was this about Justin? That was so long ago.
“Close your mouth, sweetheart,” he spat, the term of endearment he so charmingly used to use on you, now filled with hate. "You go use it on someone else, I got no use for a whore.”
You swore in that moment, time stood still. Anything else he said after that, you didn’t hear. Your vision narrowed and your ears were ringing. A whore?
His mouth kept moving, and you kept staring, but you couldn’t hear any of it. You felt your lips and fingers go numb first. Then a buzzing invaded your head and your whole body tensed. Joel continued to growl things in your direction, but none of it got through to you. This was the man that everyone warned you about. This was who he really was. You were foolish to think something else was there. He just wanted to fuck you, just like his brother fucked half the staff, and when you refused, you saw the man for who he really was. A whore?!
“Stop.” You said calmly. Too calmly. And Joel obeyed, taken aback at your response.
“Nobody,” you said, standing up and glaring at him now, “nobody speaks to me that way. Do you understand me?” Joel just stared at you, his eyes still flashing with anger, unsure how to respond.
“I don’t know who you think you are,” you continued, pointing a finger at him, “and personally, I don’t give a shit. I will not sit here and listen to you berate me for absolutely no reason, for a job I could do anywhere else!” Your voice was rising now as you cast your arm out to gesture towards the city behind him.
Joel sat motionless in his chair, listening to your outburst. He was used to people crying, or even yelling obscenities back, but not this.
Your adrenaline was kicking in now, and you began to feel shaky and weak. You needed to leave.
Chest heaving, unblinkingly staring him right in the eye, you quietly said, “Fuck you, Joel. I quit.”
You turned on your heel and headed towards the door, your hands shaking so badly you dropped his birthday gift, but you had to keep walking. You couldn't risk letting him see you cry.
Your instinct was to wait for the elevator, but you were worried he might emerge from his office and see you, so you walked past Ruby's desk to the stairwell. She definitely had overheard some of your argument with Joel. She gawked at you as you walked by her desk briskly, but your eyes were focused straight ahead.
You pushed the door open and nearly ran down to the 6th floor, back to the sanctity of your cubical. You snatched your purse onto your shoulder and hastily grabbed a box from under your desk. Tipping it over to empty it, you threw a few personal effects into the box.
You didn't bother to say anything to Debbie or Kyle, vaguely noting Colleen was already gone, or even Heather. You figured Joel could fill her in himself. What an asshole.
This time you felt safe to wait for the elevator, tears stinging the back of your eyes. Grateful the car opened empty, you lept inside and jabbed the lobby button repeatedly.
You could taste your freedom. You saw the exit, not even registering the security guards rushing past you, weapons drawn. You were focused on leaving this place behind you and thanking the stars above you didn't fall for Joel's seductive trap. At least you still had your dignity.
It must have been lunchtime by now, the streets looked more packed than usual as you marched down the sidewalk. It wasn't until later you realized people were running and screaming. You were so wrapped up in your own drama, you didn't even notice.
That was, until you heard Joel's voice yelling your name.
You thought you hallucinated it, your foolish imagination running away with you again, but you kept hearing it, at least three times now. Your place slowed, and your focus began to come back to the world around you. Why were all these people running?
Suddenly, you felt a strong hand on your shoulder. You turned around, looking up to see Joel's softened expression, gasping from trying to catch up with you.
You frowned, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. Before you could lash out at him, he spoke.
"Please, just stop and listen to me."
Before he could continue, six trucks filled with FEDRA soldiers pulled up in front of the building, capturing your attention.
They stormed the building, guns drawn, as you watched helplessly. You heard screaming, and then gunshots. You stood frozen to the ground, stunned. Another terrorist attack, your mom was right.
Joel's eyes looked panicked and confused, before he grasped you by your shoulders and forced your attention back on him. He said something to you, but you didn't hear it, still staring at him, dazed.
"Run!" He yelled, again. That time you heard him. You dropped the box in your arms as he grasped your hand in his own, dragging you both down the street, opposite the office building.
Chapter Six
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fic#joel the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us hbo#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller series#joel x reader#joel x reader smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us game
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A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley just wants a little reassurance from you, and no matter what he does, he's not getting it.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing and smut
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots! Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!
Bradley was kissing along your neck, rubbing his nose against your hair and inhaling your sweet scent.��
"Roo, I'm working."
Of course you were working. It was the only thing you have been doing lately. You were sitting at the dining room table, eating a room temperature hot pocket and answering emails.
"I think you should take a break...with me."
Instead of responding, you just hummed and continued typing away on your computer. It was actually cruel, the way you had come home late from work, undressed right in front of him, taken a quick shower, and changed into his UVA shirt. All without acknowledging him at all.
"Sweetheart, come on, it's late. Let's go to bed."
"Bradley. I have a lot to get done," you mumbled, refreshing your browser and revealing a bunch of new emails.
"You can pick up again tomorrow," he whispered, squeezing your waist through the cotton fabric. "I've been thinking about you sitting on my face all day. Let me make you cum on my mustache, Baby Girl."
You sighed and looked up at him. "Not tonight, okay?"
He swallowed hard. "Sure." He turned and went to the bathroom to get himself ready for bed, trying to keep the hurt expression from his face.
If you didn't want to spend time with him in bed, there was no way he was going to get you to have a conversation about the wedding either. Bradley leaned against the bathroom vanity and examined his face in the mirror. He looked older than his thirty-six years at the moment. He also looked miserable. He brushed his teeth and fell asleep alone in the king sized bed.
-----------------------------
You were trying your best to keep yourself organized, but the wall in your office was starting to look solid yellow from all of the post-it notes you had hanging there. And now you couldn't locate the one you needed. "Shit," you muttered, trying to determine whether or not it had fallen behind your file cabinet.
The sound of your growling stomach was distracting you, so you started eating your lunch while you searched for the note. You groaned at the sound of knocking on your door. If your team scheduled one more surprise meeting for this week, you were going to scream.
"Come in!" you called, still trying to pull your file cabinet away from the wall.
"What are you doing, Baby Girl?"
"Roo!" you gasped, rushing around your deck to give him a hug.
He squeezed you tight, and you buried your nose in his uniform shirt. He smelled good, and now you just wanted to go home and snuggle with him.
"You okay?" he asked you, kissing the top of your head.
"Mmhmm. Just tired. And I have a meeting that doesn't even start until five, so I have no idea when I'll be home later."
He sighed deeply. "So you want to go to the movies a different night?"
Shit, shit, shit. That was probably listed in your personal calendar somewhere, but you hadn't checked. "I can skip the meeting," you told him, looking up into his brown eyes. "I can skip it."
He just shook his head. "No, we can go another night. It's fine."
But he sounded annoyed. You needed to figure out a way to make this better. "Listen. I'm almost maxed out with my days off. I really need to start using some of them so I don't lose them before the end of the year. We can both take a day off and do something fun."
His lips twitched as he looked at you before he said, "Won't you need the days off for the honeymoon?" Then he cautiously added, "You said we could get married this year."
Your mind was overworked enough already without adding wedding planning to the agenda. "Yeah, I mean, as long as we can find a venue that can accommodate us and everything else."
"You ready to start looking at venues, then?" he asked hopefully.
"Roo, the next couple weeks are not going to be a good time for me to do that."
He pressed his lips together. "It's already mid-September. I was hoping to get a jump on this last month."
You squeezed him and said, "We'll figure it out."
He rubbed your back and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Yeah... we'll figure it out. I love you," he told you before he left. And as soon as he was gone, you realized he could have helped you move the file cabinet.
-------------------------------
Bradley was so lonely with you constantly working late. He took Tramp on so many long walks, the poor dog was exhausted. He also helped the elderly neighbors with their yard work, and he played piano by himself. And he barely ever saw you before seven o'clock.
The worst part for him was that he was the only one initiating intimacy. Not just sex, but anything. You were either tired or working or thinking about working. Last night when he started kissing you in bed and running his fingers along your neck, you moaned, so he thought that was a green light. But then you literally yawned against his mouth, and told him you were too tired. The night before that, you were sitting up in the kitchen on your computer until who knows what time. You told him you would be in to say goodnight, but you weren't.
It was short-term. He knew that. And he knew your work was important. It was literally paramount to his own safety whenever he flew his F/A-18. But he fucking missed you. He missed you whining about how you needed him to get you off during the cookout. He missed shower sex. He'd give anything for you to call him Daddy right now.
Fuck. Just thinking about it was making him hard, but you probably wouldn't be home for hours. So he ran his own hand along his cock. Again. He jerked off like he did before you and he were dating: to the mental image of your legs in a short skirt, to the thought of him sliding his hands underneath said skirt.
He came easily, but he didn't actually feel any relief.
--------------------------------------
Bradley was trying to be patient, but it was supposed to be Hard Deck night, and you were currently pacing around the kitchen on the phone with Sonya from your lab.
"Did you try saving it first and then opening it in a different format?" you asked, walking back around the island. "Hmmm. I'm not sure. Email it to me, and I'll try to open it."
Bradley watched you open your laptop as you put your phone on speaker. You glanced over at him when he twirled his keys around his finger, and you winced. Then you held up one finger in his direction, and he took Tramp out back.
You'd been like this for the past two weeks, and his patience was starting to wear thin. Every day you came home exhausted, and unfortunately he had been making dinner most nights. Which meant it never tasted very good. He was craving one of your fancy homemade meals, but he didn't want to ask you to make one for him. You were so busy at work as it was.
Bradley knew how you were. Work was important to you. And you were important to him. So he would just have to wait it out.
"Sorry!" you said, poking your head out through the sliding glass door. "Sonya and I got it sorted, so we can go out now, Roo."
"Yeah, okay," he replied, tossing the ball one more time for Tramp.
When he was alone with you in the Bronco, everything was perfect. You queued up one of his favorite playlists and laced your fingers through his. You sang along badly to the song which always made him smile, and he played with your ring.
"Did you have a chance to look at any of the wedding vendors on that list I gave you?" he asked softly as he pulled into the parking lot.
You shot him an apologetic look. "Not yet, but I'll look at all of them tomorrow. I promise."
Bradley just grunted as he shifted into park. He climbed out and helped you out of your door. "Please look at them," he said, grasping your chin and guiding your face up until you would meet his eyes. "It's important to me."
"I will," you whispered as you leaned up to kiss him. "It's important to me too. I just have got to get past all of this shit at work."
Bradley kissed you harder and you wound your arms around his neck. He let you soothe his nerves with your soft lips and your little noises. It would be okay.
------------------------------
As soon as you and Bradley were inside the bar, Phoenix had a beer in your hand. "Unless you're pregnant. Are you pregnant?" she asked, about to pull the drink back out of your grasp. Bradley was already on his way over to the pool table.
"No!" you said, surprised. "What the hell, Phoenix? Do I look fatter or something?" you asked, looking down the front of your body. If anything, you thought you might have lost a little weight, because you kept forgetting to eat when you were at work. You really needed to start setting reminder alarms in your phone.
"No, but we haven't seen you in like two and a half weeks," she replied, pushing the beer in your hand closer to your lips. "We started making up conspiracy theories for fun. I thought maybe you were home with morning sickness. Bagman said you probably moved out, and Bradley was just pretending to hold it together. Fanboy assumed you went to the Comics convention in Philadelphia without inviting him, and that's why we haven't heard from you."
You pressed your lips together, simultaneously trying not to laugh or cry. "I'm sorry. I have been so busy with work. My boss is up for a promotion and I really want one by next year as well."
Phoenix eyed you closely before asking, "How are the wedding plans coming along?"
You glanced past her to see your fiancé taking a shot at the pool table. As much as you promised him you would start looking at venues and photographers and florists, you found you just didn't really want the added stress. You knew Bradley would be okay with just doing something simple in Maryland, if you told him that's what you wanted. You also thought you could get him to agree to an elopement if you really pushed him. But you just didn't know what you wanted, and you didn't have the energy or time to sit and think about any of it right now.
"Um, we haven't really started," you told Phoenix while you played with the label on your beer.
She leaned in a little closer until you met her eyes. "Well, you should start," she told you, all hints of joking gone. It felt like a warning.
"Yeah," you agreed. "I know that."
"He will do whatever you tell him you want to do, but please, tell him something." You had never heard her use this tone of voice before.
You swallowed down a sip of your beer. "Did he say something to you?" you asked softly.
"Yes."
"What did he say?" you asked, chewing on your lip.
But Phoenix just shook her head. "I don't want to tell you." Then she walked away, leaving you alone and upset.
You tried your best to blend in with everyone. You had missed them. It wasn't like you hadn't. But now you felt like you were letting Bradley down, and you still had almost two weeks left of deadlines for work. But if he was talking to his best friend about you, and Phoenix wouldn't tell you what was said, that was bad.
You wrapped your arms around Bradley from behind and he chuckled. "Come here," he told you, pulling you into a hug. You pulled him down for a kiss before agreeing to play some pool. You saw Nat eyeing both of you quietly as she sipped her drink. You would do better. You would make time to talk about wedding stuff.
And you'd give Bradley a blowjob later. That would probably make both of you feel better. It had been a few days.
---------------------------------
Bradley liked this a lot. It felt really good to be enjoying your mouth instead of his own hand. As soon as you both got home, you started undoing his jeans.
"Right here?" he asked you softly, in the dark entryway.
"Right here," you confirmed, dropping down to your knees. He had honestly been hoping to have sex with you, but this felt so good, he didn't want to stop you now.
You sucked on him so well, and when you released his dick in favor of gently teasing his balls with your mouth, he groaned. "You know I love that."
"Mmm," you hummed, and he wrapped his fingers in your hair. "I know what else you like," you whispered, before taking his cock in your mouth again and getting sloppy.
Yep. You knew exactly what he liked.
Once he was sated and you were standing and kissing his neck, he said, "Why don't you go lay in bed? I'll get you off with my mouth and fingers, Sweetheart."
You ran your nose across his Adam's apple but shook your head. "I'm going to get a little work done before bed, okay?"
Bradley felt like he had been slapped in the face. You just got him off, and then turned him down. He felt like something cheap. Or like a chore you had to do. Like something less desirable than work. He felt like nothing more than an obligation as he watched you flip on the light and sit at the kitchen island with your computer.
"I'm going to bed," he told you and headed down the hallway. He never thought you could possibly make him feel badly about himself. You. You were the one who always made him feel wanted and important. He had never imagined he could be so happy with someone. You stood up for him. You nursed him back to health. You were his teammate.
But right now he felt like he was going to cry. And it's not like he could talk to anyone about this. That would be mortifying. His wife-to-be would rather work at midnight than let him go down on her. He'd already talked Nat's ear off about the fact that you wouldn't commit to any wedding plans. You wouldn't even tell him where you wanted to get married. He couldn't get one detail out of you. He named three songs he thought you could use for a first dance together, and you just told him you would think about it.
You kept telling him you would think about things, but you weren't getting back to him with any information. He was starting to get terrified that he would end up getting deployed again and have to leave you for months without even a wedding date to look forward to.
He sat on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. The urge to talk to his mom was so strong right now, he actually did start to cry.
-----------------------------
You joined Bradley in bed after he was already asleep, and you were awake before he was the next morning. You dressed in your last clean uniform and drank a mug of coffee. You really needed to make sure you did laundry tonight. You scowled at the coffee and drank it as quickly as you could. Somehow Bradley had become better than you at making your coffee the way you liked it. You smiled for a minute as you remembered how weird he thought your french press was when you first moved in with him.
It was still early, and you didn't want to wake him, so you left him a note on the counter.
Roo, I love you. Fly safely.
Then you grabbed your bag and left. Today you would find out if you had to go to Annapolis at the beginning of October with your team to help present your research. You were practically vibrating with excitement.
You had promised Bradley you would look at wedding stuff today. And you would. Probably while you ate lunch. But you just didn't see how the two of you would possibly have enough time to plan everything and get married this year. September was almost done now, and you didn't know how hard it would be to find a date that was available somewhere.
If you had to talk him into next year, you would. It would be fine.
So you got to work right away, and everyone ended up working through lunch. You were planning on taking a break soon, and then you'd text Bradley and see how his day was going. And during your break, you would scroll through some wedding venues and see if any of the locations appealed to you.
"We're going to Annapolis," Bickel announced from the lab doorway.
"Are you serious?" you asked him, slowly standing and trying to see if he was joking.
"I'm serious," he said with a smile as the lab erupted in cheers. It was hard for you to imagine that just a few months ago, you thought you might have to take a leave of absence or switch locations to avoid having to work with Josh. Now you would be presenting your work on a national scale in your home state.
You took your phone out of your pocket to text Bradley, but Bickel was already loudly telling everyone to join him tomorrow night for dinner and drinks on him. You had rescheduled tomorrow night to be movie night with Bradley. He already bought tickets. You were going to have to cancel on him a second time. And you were going to have to tell him you'd be in Annapolis for a week next month.
You were also probably going to have to tell him there was no way the two of you were going to be able to get married this year.
--------------------------------
"I'm so sorry, Bradley. Can you take Jake or Nat to the movies with you instead?" you asked him.
"Sure," he answered, not even looking at you as he poured himself a bowl of cereal for dinner.
"Great. And um... well... I'll be gone for a week next month. But it's good! Because I get to present my work in Annapolis."
He turned to look at you and nodded. "I'm really proud of you," he told you quietly. And he was. You had worked hard, and you had earned this.
"Thanks, Roo," you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. "You've made everything so much easier for me. And in a few weeks, we can really start to get back to normal, you know?"
He swallowed hard, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. He hadn't touched you like this in a few days, and he had missed it so much, it was almost painful now. "That sounds nice."
"I need to do laundry and make sure I have something to wear to dinner tomorrow night," you said, pulling out of his arms and heading to the bedroom.
Bradley just wanted to feel close to you again, so he followed you and sat on the edge of the bed while you perused your dresses.
"What about this one?" you asked, holding up your black wrap dress.
"Bronco sex," he said, and you started to laugh. "Reminds me of Bronco sex."
"Yeah... me too," you told him, hanging it up again. "Better not wear it to a work dinner. I'd be thinking about you the whole time."
He rubbed his hand across his face. "Would that be such a bad thing?"
"No. Just hard to focus. How about this dress?" you asked, holding up the blue one you wore when you picked him up at the docks a few deployments ago.
"Sex against the inside of the front door," he whispered. But you were already pulling out a sweater to wear over it.
"I know you like this one," you said, holding it up in front of your body for him to see.
"Loved it since the first time you wore it, Baby Girl."
You took a deep breath. "I guess I should start thinking about what kind of wedding dress I want."
Bradley immediately jumped up from the bed. "Yes! Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, but you were already shaking your head.
"I'm not supposed to talk about that with you!"
His heart sank again, but he supposed you were correct about that detail. "You want to call your mom and talk to her about it?" he asked.
"Roo, it's almost midnight on the east coast. I'll worry about it later."
He didn't want you to worry about your wedding dress. He wanted you to be excited about it.
"Let's go watch a show," you told him, headed for the living room. A few minutes later, Bradley was the big spoon to your little spoon. You put on a show he didn't even like very much, but he was too embarrassed to ask you to switch it to Real Housewives of Atlanta, so he just held you close.
Then he started to kiss your neck, working his lips and his mustache next to your ear. "Roo," you whispered, and that tone of your voice was like a shot of adrenaline through his body.
"Sweetheart," he whispered, already growing hard for you. "Can we get in bed?"
You sighed. "I'm too tired tonight." So he stopped kissing you and just held you. Soon your breathing evened out, and he could tell you were asleep. So he watched the end of the show by himself, and then he scooped you up and carried you to bed. He tried to tuck you in gently, but you woke up. Now he was terrified that you were going to go back to the kitchen with your computer instead of at least sleeping next to him.
"I'm sorry I'm so tired," you told him before you yawned. Even the way you were arching your back as you stretched had him aching for you. When you pulled your shirt and bra off and replaced them with his UVA tee, his mouth went dry.
"I hate to say this, but... can we schedule some sex into your calendar?" Bradley asked you.
You laughed. "We can have sex this weekend."
"Last weekend, you worked all weekend. Same as the weekend before that."
"Well, I won't this weekend, okay?"
He just nodded as you headed to the bathroom.
------------------------------------
Poor Roo! Come on Baby Girl, he just wants you to plan the wedding!
Part 3
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hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
E Y E S H A L F S H U T 🎶 dream boy, savannah conley
“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”
Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.
“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.
“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.
A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.
He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.
Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.
It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?
Right?
Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.
Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.
Did you want to go? Absolutely not.
Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.
“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.
“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.
“Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.
You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.
At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?
“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.
“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.
“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”
“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”
Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.
“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.
“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.
“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.
“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.
“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”
“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.
“What?”
“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.
“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.
“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.
“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.
“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.
You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.
“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”
“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.
“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.
Buzzzzz.
Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.
“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.
“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”
“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.
“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.
“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.
It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.
Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.
What it would taste like. What it would feel like.
What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.
“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.
And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.
Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”
Yeah, no. This was going to suck.
“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.
“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”
Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.
“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.
“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”
Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.
“Shut up, Buckley.”
“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.
“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.
Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”
“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.
“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.
Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.
“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.
“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”
Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”
“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.
At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.
People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.
It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.
He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.
“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”
“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.
“Just saying–”
“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.
“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.
Stevie? Oh god. Why?
She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.
It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.
“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.
“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.
“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.
“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.
You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?
Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.
You.
Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–
“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.
“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.
Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.
“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.
“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.
Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.
Fuck he was pretty.
That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.
“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.
“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”
“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.
“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.
And it was everything.
It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.
His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.
Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–
“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.
“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.
“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.
“What–”
“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.
“Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.
“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.
“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.
“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.
“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”
“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.
“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.
You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.
"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.
He was a good kisser.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist
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