#wanted to post this two weeks ago but was too sick

[rogerdeakinsdp]

Cinematography by Roger Deakins, ASC, BSC: Stormy Monday (1988) directed by Mike Figgis

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

argh. want to work on games and post meta, but sleep/meds schedule bullshit has been giving me migraines this week and i have been almost exclusively Soup :(

[babeyun]

the same heart ☆ n.r

synopsis: navigating the beginning of your first relationship is proving to be most heartwarming, including the list of firsts - particularly, your first kiss. genre: established relationship au, slight angst, fluff. pairing: boyfriend!riki x fem!reader word count: 4.2k rating: pg-15. warnings: swearing, use of petnames (baby, pretty, pretty girl, babe, etc.), that's about it LOL. listen to: those eyes - new west ; yellow - coldplay ; heart - dawn ; sparks - coldplay ; i adore you, dear - dwen author's note: as per usual, we've got another birthday fic! figuring out what to write took me a few moments but i will always pull through. happiest birthday to our riki! i love you, little guy.

Things between you and your boyfriend were slightly awkward.

Granted, you'd only made it official a week and a half ago – but something about the way he didn't hold your hand made you feel a bit confused. The way he never got too close if you were over at his dorm for a movie night, the way he'd hug you loosely as he dropped you off at home after a date or just dropping by to check on you. The way he'd gently reject your advances at public affection, opting to smile apologetically as he ruffled your hair.

The way he hadn't kissed you yet, despite the amount of time you spent together, the many dates and what he thought were his unnoticed longing glances.

You were truly in no rush. You knew that this was something new for the two of you, the first relationship either of you had ever been in. You met a year ago, at a record shop shortly after your eighteenth birthday. He may not be into prolonged skinship or public displays of affection, but he flirted with you like it was nobody's business. He poked fun at you as you blushed at his compliments, eager to make you smile and eventually, you allowed his charms to make him a little spot in your heart.

So despite not being outwardly physically affectionate, he had a way with words that made your cheeks hot and your chest flutter. He never stopped flirting with you, even during the many dates he took you on – even with the onlookers, he never minded. Murmurs of pretty girl and gorgeous as he directed your attention to things or simply didn't feel like calling your name, careful maneuvers through crowded areas with his hand ghosting over the small of your back, playful pinches to your cheeks.

Your first date had been very different than you'd expected – the two of you simply perused a farmers market that was a few miles out of the city. He bought you flowers and lunch, and the two of you got to know each other better over stalls upon stalls of jewelry and fine linens, fresh fruit and chopped vegetables ready to be juiced. You'd fully expected him to want to kiss you as he dropped you home, but he only blushed as you made the move. His fingers pinched to your cheek as he stopped you with a soft shake of his head.

"Next time, promise." Next time lingered with a bit of tension, that date being the Christmas light show that came to town every year. He bought the tickets, he picked you up. The two of you opted to share a hot cocoa after seeing how big the cups were, and your lipstick stained his lips a muted berry color. You took pictures at a few trees, and this was the date that soft-launched your flourishing relationship on social media – him posting a picture of you staring at a pink tree with white lights and you posting a picture of a Polaroid a vendor took of you for a dollar.

But still, even after several perfect opportunities, there was no kiss. He dropped you off at home, letting you know he had a good time and wanted to see you again before the year ended. You nodded, and lingered at your door with a pointed look. He bid you a goodnight and you disappointedly said it back, slinking into your house with a dejected look.

The next date was unfortunately after the New Year – you'd gotten sick and he felt awful, stopping by several times to bring you soup and cold medicine. Your mother met him then, and told you that he'd make a great boyfriend – you'd huffed in response, muttering that he didn't even want to hold your hand. Your mother sighed and told you those things took time, to be patient, to be understanding. You slept on it, knowing it would be worth the wait but still feeling a bit undesired.

The date after your cold subsided was one inside – bowling and arcade games. You beat him by a landslide, your last roll a perfect strike. He complained the entire time the two of you wandered around the rest of the arcade, and only stopped when you pulled him into a photo booth. Your poses were of a shy couple just learning to be together, and you were honest with him – you wanted to kiss in one of the pictures. He looked hesitant, offering an alternative almost immediately and you reluctantly agreed – the last photo being of him kissing your cheek gently. He dropped you off that night with another press of his lips to your warmed skin, and a warm apology that you accepted quietly.

You felt your heart warm when you saw the photo strip hanging from his rearview mirror the next time he picked you up, a hole punched in the white border and a soft pink string looped through it. So much so, that you let it go. You stopped asking, but he continued to press gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead throughout the rest of your dates, accumulating to almost eighty dates within eleven months – you never went more than four days without seeing him in some way or another.

And yet, despite the flirty words, his touch remained reserved. Through eleven months, he swiped your hair out of your face, he continued to pinch your cheeks between his fingers. He kissed your cheeks occasionally, usually on the drop-off or spontaneously every once in a while. He upgraded slowly to ruffling your hair, tying your shoelaces, zipping up your coat. He was sweet, attentive, coy and he made it known he was deeply interested in you.

It'd been almost a year to the date of meeting when he asked you to be his girlfriend during the first snow of the season. The two of you had snuck out to a park late that night, and he was admiring the way you hung upside down from the monkey bars, before he offered to help you get down. You agreed, asking if he'd be willing to get something warm. 

You wound up in a little hole-in-the-wall ramen shop the two of you had gone to during one of your first dates. You recounted it, remembering how you'd burned your tongue on the broth and he'd sprinkled sugar in your mouth, stating he'd seen it somewhere. It hadn't worked but it was funny and you shared a laugh, when he cleared his throat and said he had something serious to tell you.

"Are you okay?" Your worried tone startled him, the way your brows tugged down and your eyes grew filled with concern. He nodded quickly, "I'm fine, I just…sorry, this is hard for me." "It's okay. I'm here." You reached for his hand, but quickly retracted it. He shook his head, reaching for your hands and running his thumbs over your knuckles. "I really, really like you, Y/N." Oh no, you'd thought. He's going to dump me and we're not even together.

The very thought had made your eyes well with tears, his silence deafening as he stared at your hands. You wore a ring he'd bought you at a fair on one of your dates, the dragon egg-like stone shimmering in the low light of the shop when he finally looked back at you. His eyes widened at the sight of you blinking back tears, his hands quickly moving to cradle your face.

"Oh baby, don't cry. What's wrong?" His concern only made your heart sink deeper, the pet name he'd never used before flying over your head as your fingers circled his wrists, the metal of his watch cold against your fingertips. 

"If you're going to dump me–"

"Dump you? No, no, pretty. I wanted to make this official, I just…I'm sorry, I'm so bad at this–"

Your cheeks heated beneath his fingers, your tears blurring your vision as you looked at him. You blinked, a few tears sliding down your face as he tried to wipe them away. 

"You what?" He sighed, his cheeks coated in a bright pink blush as he cleared his throat. "I…want to be your boyfriend." You only looked at him, before letting out a shaky breath. "You are bad at this."

"Is that a no?" He asked meekly, and you swatted at his arms. "You're so bad at asking things! I'm crying, Riki!" "Baby, I'm sorry!" He laughed softly, holding your wrists in his hands. "I didn't know how to ask and I was too nervous to ask Jake. He's too involved in our relationship as it is." Riki rolled his eyes as you registered the pet name, your lip jutting out in a pout as you whined. "You called me baby."

His eyes widened, then narrowed as he thought about it. "Haven't I been calling you that? I swear I have."

You scoffed, "Must've been one of your other girls." He smirked, "Which one?" He didn't manage to dodge the soft smack you landed on his thigh, a pout on his lips as he rubbed his leg. "You want to be my boyfriend but you talk about other girls, we both know I'm the only one hitting your line up." "All the more reason to let me be your boyfriend! C'mon, pretty! I'll be the best boyfriend ever, I'll even buy your mom flowers like I did that one time when she was sick!" He folded his hands together as if praying, making you snort as you wiped your face of stray tears. "What took you so long?" He huffed, "I just wanted to make sure you wanted to be with me. Every time I see you I feel like I'm about to throw up." "Riki…did you just call me ugly?" You chided, and his eyes widened as he shook his head quickly, his hands cradling your face. "What? No! You're the prettiest girl ever, please–" "Calm down, you big baby. I guess you can be my boyfriend." You rolled your eyes, and his eyes widened as he leaned closer into your space. "Really?!" "Yes, really." 

The night ended with him walking you home, practically vibrating out of his own skin as he held your hand tightly the entire way. It'd given you a lot of comfort, but you didn't mention it as he dropped you off at home, your mother waiting on the porch with her robe on and an angry look on her face. She ushered you inside and you were grounded for three days before she decided it wasn't the worst thing in the world – specifically when Riki appeared with the biggest bouquet of flowers you'd ever seen and the softest pout known to man.

She allowed him in and you had a movie night in your bedroom, before he promptly kissed your cheek goodnight and went home. 

Fast forward a few days, the Christmas light show was back in town for the year. Riki bought the tickets, picked you up and you shared yet another comically large cup of hot cocoa, your lipstick a wine red this year. He held your hand gently, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin as he held you close to him. You scoured the different figurines this year, your eyes caught by the enormous lovebird display – two swans made by champagne-colored lights and formed into a heart by their necks.

You lingered a bit at it, letting go of Riki's hand to get a closer look. He took a few photos discreetly, before eventually joining your side and moving your hair carefully out of your face. "Something on your mind, baby?" He asked gently, tucking his hands into his coat pockets. You shook your head, smiling at him softly. "It's silly." "Mmh, nothing is silly if you're thinking so hard about it. Talk to me, pretty." He taps your temple, and you shrug. "It's okay. I'm in no rush." "No rush to what? Stop being so cryptic, you know it freaks me out. It's like you're plotting something." He pinches your cheek between his knuckles softly, and you roll your eyes as you swat his hand away. "You know, it's been almost a year since we met and you still haven't kissed me?" He doesn't meet your eyes as you say this, opting to look at the swans in front of you. "Mmh." He nods, before looking at his feet, nudging a bit of gravel with the tip of his boot. You calmly loop your arm with his, sliding your hand into his pocket and intertwining your fingers. He glances down at you, a soft blush on his cheeks that you want to attribute to the biting wind. "Why?" You ask, and he tongues his cheek before shrugging. "It makes me nervous, I guess." "Nervous?" Your voice is an echo of him, albeit slightly concerned. "Yeah. You make me nervous. I literally almost threw up the night I asked you to be my girlfriend." "Correction, you asked to be my boyfriend." You say pointedly, and he scoffs. "Me being your boyfriend makes you my girlfriend." "You sure like calling me your girlfriend, huh?" Your arm nudges him, and he huffs in embarrassment, looking away. You lean your head on his shoulder, staring back up at the swans. A cliché example of lovers, you know, but a lovely one nonetheless. 

"You know I don't mind waiting, right? I'm sure we will eventually." You murmur, and he sighs.

"I know, I'm sorry. I want to, I promise. I just…" 

You glance at him, the way he chews on his lip anxiously as he trails off makes your stomach sink. 

"I'm sorry for bringing it up, we don't have to keep talking about this." You pat his chest, an apologetic smile on your lips as he meets your eyes. They're serious, a look you'd only ever seen on him a few times. You drop your hand from his chest and he moves the two of you down the path.

You see a few more displays, taking pictures within all the decorated trees and once more paying the same vendor from last year for a Polaroid. You both smile and it goes into Riki's wallet. "For safekeeping," He'd whispered into your hair as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

The two of you wandered out of the show hand in hand, and Riki offers to stop somewhere for dinner before he drops you off at home. It's routine, the way he opens your door, the way he buckles your seatbelt in for you. The way he hands you the aux and you play jazz fusion, Tutu by Miles Davis filling his car the way it always has after a date.

"I've never kissed anyone." He murmurs as you reach the first stoplight out of the show. His fingers are wrapped loosely around the bottom of the steering wheel, and you nod, looking at him. "Me either, it's no big deal. We'll learn, when the time comes." "It's not that I don't want to. You know that, right?" His voice is shaky as he flicks on his turn signal, and you nod again. "I'm sure you want to, but there really is no rush. I'm not the only one who's waiting, you know? We went on eighty dates, Riki. We've got all the time in the world." Your fingers toy with his earrings, before you card your fingers through his hair. "It's just you and me, yeah?" "Yeah." He's quiet, and you know it's weighing on him as the two of you make the drive to your favorite diner. The two of you share an appetizer, his head resting on your shoulder as you talk about your new part-time job and how you'd miss popping by the record store to bring him lunch. He listened intently as the food came and went, only responding softly to any questions you asked him.

It weighed on you when he was quiet on the way to your house, and how softly he bid his goodbye with a kiss to your hairline and his arm around your shoulders. "Sleep well, baby." Your heart felt heavy in your chest as the next few days went by and he seemed distant. You both planned another date for the arcade, and agreed he'd pick you up after his shift at the record store. You dressed casually, one of his old t-shirts and a pair of black jeans. You wore heavy boots to brace the cold, and nearly tripped over your own feet when he knocked on your front door

"Coming!" You called, your mother poking her head out of the kitchen upon hearing you yell. "Leaving already, honey?" "Yeah, date night." You reply sheepishly, unlocking the door with fumbling fingers and your coat half off your body, and opening it to reveal your boyfriend holding yet another bouquet of flowers. Your eyes were wide, as you stopped pulling your coat on. "For my mom?" You nod, and he shakes his head.

"For you. I'm sorry for being distant these past few days, it wasn't my intention and I'm sure it made you feel some type of way. I should've spoken to you about my feelings, and I know flowers aren't nearly enough but I hope it's a start?" He said meekly, and you scoff out a soft laugh, nodding as you take the flowers.

"Riki, it's okay. I know it's a sensitive topic." You smile apologetically, taking the flowers and turning on your heel. "I'll put these in my room, I'll be right back. Come inside." He doesn't say anything, just gives you a curt nod as he steps inside your house, closing the door and greeting your mother warmly. You quickly walk up the stairs, taking the cellophane off the flowers and setting them carefully in the vase you had sitting on your dresser from past bouquets he'd given you. You'll fill them with water later, you think, as you barrel back down the stairs. You see your boyfriend deep in thought as he and your mother speak, and you don't eavesdrop as you clear your throat. She stops talking, before giving him a warm smile and bidding you a good date night. You thank her, tell her you'll be home before the streetlights come on and a quick love you, bye!

"Let's zip this up, don't want you to get sick." Riki doesn't let you off your porch without zipping your coat up, grabbing your hand as you both step off. "Do you think you'll kick my ass bowling this time, too?" "I'm sure of it." You grin.

And you do. You take the lead within three frames, your boyfriend clearly distracted as he watches you roll strike after strike. You play three full games, his pout only getting deeper and deeper as you win each one.

"This is so unfair, how'd you get so good anyway?" He pouts as he slides a few coins into an air hockey table, and you shrug as you score the first point within the first few seconds. He gapes, and you just laugh as he, once more, loses this game.

The night goes smoothly, both of you scoring your wins and cutting your losses sorely. You both make faces at each other the moment one of you loses, but all is fair in love and arcade games when the night ends in the photo booth, your legs across your boyfriend's lap as he rests his hands on your knees. You fix his hair out of his eyes, the shaggy bangs tickling the bridge of his nose as you coo.

"Okay, how does my hair look? Frizzy?" You run your fingers through it and he shakes his head, watching as you dig your lipstick out of your purse. It's another deep red, and he feels his stomach fill with butterflies as you wipe the corners of your lips. "You look pretty." "You always say that." You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat as he smiles, softly flicking your nose. "You always look pretty, baby." You huff, facing the camera and tucking your hair behind your ears before clearing your throat. "Smile first, right? That's what we did last time." "Yeah, that's cool. We can do….the cat thing? For the second one." He holds his fingers in two upside-down Vs over his hair, and you laugh, nodding. "Sure, sure." The camera begins to count down as you press the red button, and you smile as it flashes the two of you. You both scrunch your noses, blinking rapidly as you maneuver your hands to fit in the frame for the fifteen seconds it gives you. "Smile, babe." You say through gritted teeth, and he does just that as the camera flashes again.

"Shit, what now? Uh…" "Kiss me." He whispers, and you nearly snap your neck to face him. "What?!" "Kiss me." His hand moves to cradle your cheek, and you grab his wrist, hearing the camera start counting from ten. "Are you sure? We don't have to–" "I've wanted to kiss you for a year. Kiss. Me." He insists, and your heads both turn as the camera boasts five…four…

"I'm nervous." You admit, and he nods. "Me too. Just trust me, baby." Three…two…

You both breathe in shakily, before softly connecting your lips as the camera flashes brightly. You don't move away as the camera begins its last countdown from fifteen, instead you lean your forehead against his. His eyes peer up at you, and you feel a giggle erupt through you as you press your lips all over his face in chaste kisses. His cheeks grow hot under your lips, and the camera only continues it's countdown as your lipstick stamps all over his rosy cheeks.

"Smile for the camera." He mumbles, pressing his lips to your cheek as the camera reaches two, and smiles bashfully as it flashes one last time. The two of you watch the two strips pop out, and you reach for them. You hand him his, your other hand softly stroking his cheek as you stare at the pictures.

"We're cute." You nod, and he only smiles sheepishly. "Yeah. Was it okay? The kiss, I mean?" "Yeah. And we have it now, forever." You smile as you tuck the photo strip into your purse. He nods, clearing his throat, hoping you don't feel the way his heart skips a beat at the sound of you subconsciously admitting to a forever with him. "So…dinner? On me." "Shit, you have lipstick all over your face." You wince, and he shrugs. "Call it a perk, I guess. You can kiss me again to make up for it." "You're not slick, you know." You roll your eyes as the two of you exit the booth, and you thumb at the lipstick on his nose, only successful in smearing it. "I'm serious, I'm only taking payment in kisses now. So…pay up." "Shut up." You press your lips to his chastely, before shoving your purse over your shoulder as he grabs your hand, making you face him as you tug on your coat. "Seriously, we can stop by a pharmacy and get something to wipe your face." "No, these are my battle scars. I fought relentlessly against my urge to kiss you for a year, I deserve to celebrate this win." He scoffs as he zips up your coat, and you only scoff out a laugh, slipping your fingers in his. "Whatever, loser." And you don't say anything else about it. Not when your waitress stares at him a little too hard as she takes your order, not when your mother gapes at him and you as he drops you off, and certainly not when he kisses you goodnight, a murmur of I'll see you later against your lips before you slip inside your house.

You flop onto your bed after your shower, assuming your boyfriend has long been asleep as you reminisce about the events of the day. Your stomach fills with butterflies as you cover your face with a squeal, reaching for your phone – only to see a notification that your boyfriend posted something on his Instagram.

You open it, seeing a slideshow of photos – one of you in front of the champagne swans at the light show earlier that month, one of the new photo strip hanging alongside the old one in his car, and one of you at the beginning of the entire ordeal. You're sitting at the farmers market, your eyes casted away from the camera as you blushed, likely at something Riki had said. You don't remember him taking that photo, but it doesn't matter as you listen carefully to the song he'd put over it – the melodic sound of Heart by Dawn.

You glance at the caption with a thundering heart, your eyes welling with tears as you read. @/nishimura05: two sides of the same heart, and mine that only beats for you. your patience is beyond me, but i am eternally grateful for the man you make me want to become. thinking of you, always.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

you know what boils my blood.

over the last 2 weeks, i've seen countless patients walk into my urgent care center, symptomatic for so many things, refusing to get tested for covid and flu, citing that they don't want to knowingly bring it to their holiday tables. i had a patient tell me, verbatim, "i don't want to test for covid, because i don't want to be the asshole who brings it on a plane."

i understand that - i understand that holidays are times where people look forward to meeting loved ones that they might only see once a year, or where they get a break from the hectic back and forth of their lives.

but here's the thing - whether they get tested or not, they will bring whatever they have to their holiday tables. it's pure recklessness to know that you're sick, and walk into someone else's house spreading the disease.

today, january 2, i saw 91 patients, many of them who have tested positive for covid and flu. many of these patients are the same ones who didn't want testing 3 days ago, until their events were over, and now, they will have to reach out to everyone they know to let them know that they were positive because they were showing symptoms well before their event.

the next week or two? we're going to see many, many more, all people with symptoms that started around christmas. these are the only two viruses we test for rapidly in our office, but they are potent and can be fatal in many people.

so here's why i wrote this post, and maybe it's a little late, but - if you care about your loved ones, please get tested if you know you're sick. it doesn't have to be at a clinic if you don't want it to, because the over-the-counter tests work just fine too (if you test within 5-7 days of symptom onset). just...please don't try to run from the knowledge that you might have covid, because immunocompromised people, elderly people, people with co-morbidities like asthma, pregnancy, diabetes, etc...many of them may not recover. and they may not be sitting at your holiday table in the future because of it.

[jinxvex]

heyy! if u take requests i was wondering if you would make an enemy sevika x reader, where they treat each other like shit until sevika has enough and fucks the shit out of reader 💪😊

♱ enemy. (enemy!sevika x reader) ♱

enemies to lovers is lowkey my fave trope so, let’s go!!

also sorry i haven’t posted! finals week… 🫠😓

cw: nsfw, kink city LOL!! sevika is v rough + punishes reader, possessiveness, BDSM elements, BREEDING KINK (oops), name-calling (slut, whore, bitch, etc), degradation/praise, cursing, arguing, a tiny bit angsty, spanking, she slaps your cunt once, choking, hair-pulling, doggy position, she eats you out!! it's sweet towards the end dw!

there's def more but OOP-

wc: 4.2K! (oops)

sevika hates you.

1. she hates the way your hips sway when you walk.

she’s definitely ALWAYS looking at your ass.

2. she hates how you talk and how you giggle under your breath when you laugh at something you shouldn’t. your voice sounds like music, like wind chimes in the spring that cause her vision to blur.

3. she hates the way your skin glows in the sunlight—as rare as it is in the gloomy grey atmosphere of zaun.

4. she hates how you dress and style your hair. you stand out. you personally customize your clothing, adding your own detailing on platform boots, jeans, jewelry, belts, accessories, tops, and jackets. your uniqueness annoys her beyond belief.

“what a fuckin’ show-off! this isn’t a fashion show,” she mutters under her breath to get a rise out of you.

5. she hates the way you talk back to her, even when she starts an argument first.

“well maybe you could learn something, you wear the same shit like… every day,” you respond briskly, already sick of her berating you as you’ve just walked through the doors of silco’s office.

she’s older than you, you should show some respect! you act so high and mighty like nobody can crack that tough persona you put on to protect yourself from the dark and dangerous streets of zaun.

she scoffs. her thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate the stress you’ve subjected her to. she cannot believe this.

“see? this… child is so incompetent! fuckin’ impossible to work with! she’s probably late to this meeting because she’s too busy playing dress up to actually do her job.” she directs towards you although not looking at you, opting to look at the tall chair covering silco’s body as she sits in the chair across from his.

silco sighs, clearly annoyed at both of your antics. he swivels around in his chair to face you both.

“actually, she was doing something i assigned her to. last minute, but she always gets the job done.”

sevika’s eyes flicker to you, and you smirk at her assumption that you were accidentally late.

she scoffs again and drags her grey-ish eyes back to silco as she leans to the left, almost trying to get away from you standing at her right with your arms crossed.

“you see… you two are my best. i cannot afford to have you both acting like children when doing business. it could threaten everything i’ve—we’ve built. one wrong move could tarnish this.”

you and sevika stay quiet as you avoid eye contact with each other, you taking a newfound interest in the bookshelf as sevika’s eyes burn holes into the ground. you knew deep down that silco was right.

“it's time you’ve both gotten along, for all of our sakes. don’t disappoint me again.”

…

you haven’t seen sevika since silco’s ‘lecture’ he gave you two a couple of days ago.

it's evening in zaun, streets and bars filling with people as the night threatens to begin.

you sat on the couch in the living room of your tiny yet, surprisingly homey apartment. your legs resting on the coffee table and you busy munching on cheap snacks, reflecting on the conversation that took place not too long ago. you were livid.

i mean, what else more did he want from you!

sevika was impossible. you tried to get along with her in the beginning but no matter what, she hated you!

she constantly finds new ways to poke fun at you, belittle you, and insult your intelligence. she obviously thinks you aren’t worthy of being a part of silco’s inner circle and that offends you.

and yes, she’s incredibly hot, but all of that was overshadowed the moment she decided you were a piece of gum on her boot!

you sigh incredulously, “damn… i need a drink.”

…

a few minutes later, you’re walking into the last drop and making a beeline for the bar.

as you sit down, your hands graze the edges of the countertop and you close your eyes briefly to let out a breath you’ve held in your throat for…

who knows how long?

that garners the attention of thieram, the kind bartender whom you’d had polite conversation with in the past. you’d taken quite a liking to his kind personality in the past.

“what would you like tonight, miss?” he smiles at you.

as you rummage through your mind for something to order, there isn’t much.

you aren’t a big drinker so it was hard to decipher what was good and what wasn’t because you simply don’t know.

“she’ll have the whiskey, best you've got.” you hear a gruff voice come from behind you. you hear the person’s rough steps come to a stop beside you and they sit.

“ugh.” you scoff out loud and roll your eyes dramatically as you avoid looking in her direction to your right.

sevika.

“coming right up…” thieram, not even wanting to know, swiftly walks off to make your drink.

“what do you want?!” you huff out in annoyance as you finally bring your head up to make eye contact with her.

“nothin’… just enjoying you strugglin’ to order. jus’ was painful to watch, doll.”

your eyebrows raise as your mouth opens and closes, you not exactly knowing how to respond. especially to "doll".

although her tone indicates that she was merely joking, you retaliate against her anyway for the way she’s treated you in the past.

“i- you know what?! if you’ve just come to gloat and make me feel like an idiot just go right ahead and fuck off!” you state. causing a vein to pop out of your forehead and your left eye to twitch in pure anger.

“i’m not in the mood for your shit” you restate your previous point.

“y’know? you’re such a pain in my ass. always bitching and complaining about everything, always in the way, you’re unbelievable.”

you pause your movements, surprised at the lengths she’s going to make you feel terrible.

“i think you look weak.” she finishes, smirking as your eyes threaten to spill with tears out of rage.

“you’re such. a. fucking. bitch.” you emphasize the b in the word bitch as you leap off your chair and stomp out of the bar, trudging back to the comfort of your own home.

thieram walks back over to the side of the bar you were just at and his face scrunches in confusion.

“uh… where’d she go?” he questions as he raises his hands, one hand occupied with your drink.

sevika is still sitting with her mech hand pressing into a tight fist on the counter and her human hand tightly squeezing the bridge of her nose.

she makes up her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your apartment, already having memorized where you lay your head at night.

tonight, you’ll learn respect. obedience.

…

you’ve just made it back to your apartment and you’re slamming the door shut. as you pace back and forth from your kitchen to your living room you’re met with complete and utter silence that taunts you.

“how do i let her get to me? every. single. time.” you’re thinking, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid. for letting her see you upset.

you hear a loud knock at the door and you pause all moments, as you make your way to answer it, your thoughts race with ideas of who may be at your doorstep at this time of night.

you open the door and you’re met with none other than the sight of sevika. both of her hands clench into fists at her sides as she gazes at you darkly.

it’s almost eerie, her silence. you sense something in her demeanor that is different than usual. it feels… scary.

you both say nothing as she pushes her way into your home, back turned to you as she stops in her tracks.

“wha- what the fuck? g-get out!” you scream out.

her head cocks over her shoulder, one eye looking back at you in a silent warning.

you slowly back up against the door as she turns her full body around to corner you against it. her stare pierces deep into your soul, you feel as though a knife has been jabbed into your gut.

sevika is a scary woman. you know you stand no chance against her strength. that frightens you slightly but you hold your head up high and maintain eye contact with her to stand your ground.

her hands are placed on either side of your head, pressing into the rough, wooden texture of the door. you hear the wood creaking when she leans in, nose brushing against yours. the silence is deafening.

"hmm..." she cocks her head to the right, still looking deep into your irises.

"sevika, l-let me go. what are you doing?!" you try to reason with her but she is unwavering as she takes her mech hand and trails it dangerously slowly up your body from your thigh to your bare stomach, then your arms.

it lands on your neck and wraps around it loosely as a scare tactic. it works as your eyes widen and your shaky hands come up to move the machine off you.

your legs start to weaken and your eyebrows furrow as your underwear pools with your desire.

"so fuckin' pathetic, you are..." she growls, tightening around your neck, not too tight. but tight enough to where your breath hitches in your throat and you're slightly gasping for air.

"y'know, was gonna try and get along with you tonight, doll."

the pet name makes the wetness in your panties become unbearable.

she continues, "ordered you a drink, cracked a joke 'n everything..."

"but, you're a brat to your core, aren't you? should make you apologize..."

an idea pops into your head, another way to disrespect her. you ponder in your head about how you shouldn't. against your better judgment, you say it anyway.

"make me, then,” your eyes flicker down to her lips.

her cocky expression falters slightly—her eyes threatening to look down at yours as well. and if looks could kill, you would die instantly.

"show me your fuckin' bedroom. now."

you're then peeling yourself off of the door. she takes her hand off your neck and backs up to let you pass. you drag your feet, walking slowly to irritate her further. she doesn't like that one bit.

you feel a hand brush the back of your head and she's harshly pulling you up against her chest by your hair. you feel her warm breath tickling your ear, getting ready to humiliate you even more.

"f-fuck! ow!" you yelp out in pain.

"nuh-uh. hurry the fuck up. move." she whispers into your ear.

sevika lets you go, roughly pushing your head forward to emphasize her point. you decide not to push her as you speed up.

as you enter your room, you let out a shaky breath, scared yet excited about the events about to take place. you're not facing her when you hear your bedroom door slam shut. you stop dead in your tracks.

"what-uhm, what's gonna happen?" you question.

you gasp out in surprise as she spins you around to face her and pushes you onto the bed. your ass rests on the edge of it and you're sitting up straight. sevika towers over you, way taller than usual. she looks like she could devour you as she's undressing you with her eyes.

"gonna hurt you, sweetheart. gonna punish you for being such a mean little brat." she smushes your cheeks together with one hand, causing your saliva to pool from your mouth and wet your lips.

"should've done this ages ago... maybe you'd be better behaved by now."

"p-please. i-'m sorry."

it kills you inside, that you secretly love this. you secretly love the idea of her touching you. punishing you, hurting you until you’re utterly ruined.

you’ve dreamt about this moment in light of all the arguments, yelling, and fighting.

in one swift movement, she stands you back up and takes your place on the bed looking up at you hungrily.

“bend over my knee,” she demands.

you feign disgust, and fear, “wh-what?! n-no i-”

“lay the fuck down, and bend over my knee before i spank your ass raw.”

you obey. she scoots back further on your bed so you can maneuver your way to lay your stomach across her thighs. your upper body and legs rest on the bed as your ass is slightly positioned in the air.

you can’t see her face, but you know sevika’s smirking as she’s finally got you where she wants you.

she coos at you, tugging slightly at the loose shorts you threw on after you got home from the bar, “look at you in these little fuckin’ shorts, so slutty.”

she slides her hand up your outer thigh, moving closer to your ass.

all of a sudden, she pauses her movements.

she leans down, her mouth next to your ear, “we can stop at any time. jus’ let me know, doll.”

your heart clenches at her words, feeling the intense emotion behind them and now knowing deep down that she doesn’t want to actually hurt you.

it turns you on even more.

“want it vika, p-please.”

she lets out a sound that’s of a groan and a growl, “fuck yeah, baby. gonna punish you—gonna make it hurt,”

“gonna take it? gonna be a good girl for me?”

“ye-yes! yes!”

sevika hooks the fingers of her human and mechanical hand under the waist of your shorts and roughly tugs them to the floor.

“fuck… no panties too? my god,” she admires you.

you say nothing as her hand finds its way back to moving up your thigh and finally grips your ass, kneading the plush flesh.

“gonna actually do anything or?…” you get cocky, too impatient to feel her hands on you.

a loud ‘SMACK!’ sounds throughout the ambient space of your bedroom, the pain searing into the skin of your right asscheek, making you scream out into the bedspread.

“fuckin’ brat, like i said.”

you’re met with another ‘SMACK!’ in the same spot. you scream out again except this time, it sounds a hell of a lot more like a moan.

“can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. bein' my little painslut…”

she hits you again, “you like when i hurt you? don’t you, baby?”

“yes!” you’re repeating, face still smushed into the blankets.

“what was that?” she presses further as she tangles her hand into your hair and yanks it upwards.

“f-fuck! yes, yes!”

she spanks you again and again, alternating between each cheek until you’re sobbing.

although she hadn’t spanked you more than 15 times, you felt as though it was 10 times that much.

she’s soon rubbing a soothing hand over the expanse of your ass, attempting to calm the ache in your ass while neglecting the one in your cunt.

“my girl. did so good for me, baby. so, so good.”

she sits you up and props you up next to her. you wince as your ass meets the surface of your bed.

“we’re not done. gonna make this pussy feel so good, i’ve been neglecting her haven’t i?”

“mhm…touch me please.” you’re out of it, eyes lazily gazing into hers.

“suppose i should reward you?”

her hands caress the sides of your neck and she captures your lips in a gentle and passionate kiss.

as her lips meet yours, the world is silent, all you can think of is sevika.

the kiss soon turns sloppier, needier. your tongues clash against one another causing saliva to drip down both of your chins.

it’s disgusting really, the definition of swapping spit.

neither of you seems to care though. you both moan through the kisses, gripping at each other.

she breaks the kiss to tear your shirt off your body.

“such pretty tits… so beautiful.”

you lean in and peck her lips, “want you bad, vika. please just fuck me already,” you beg.

“you’re beggin’ me?”

“yeah,” you respond.

“fuckin’ beggin’ me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, baby,” you respond another time, your bedroom eyes never leaving hers.

this back-and-forth dirty talk makes the both of you so wet, that the need between you increases with each exchange.

“you don’t even realize how much of a whore you sound like when you say that shit, baby."

oh, you know.

“i love it,” she doubles back.

“gonna eat you first, get you ready for my cock.”

you pause.

‘she didn’t… did she?!’ you exclaim in your head, incredibly surprised she brought an entire strap-on to your house.

“mm… back the fuck up, lean up against the headboard.”

you do as she says, spreading your legs for her in the process.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

she kisses down your neck, stomach, and thighs—her mouth now dangerously close to your naked cunt.

“perfect pussy… so pretty and wet.” she blows cold air on it, admiring the way you clench as she does so.

she laughs out loud, “you’re clenching around nothing, baby… you need this dick in you.”

you don’t even notice you’re looking up at the ceiling, you then look down at her between your thighs—you notice her pants are pulled off. her mech hand is gripping her black plastic cock through her boy shorts.

it’s huge. you’re not sure if it can even fit inside you and that makes you crave it more.

you moan at the sight, “mhm! yes! need it in my pussy. wanna cum on it.” you manage out. your brain is mush!

“soon,” she promises.

she suddenly delves into your pussy, tongue experimentally licking around your folds, then your hole, and your clit.

you’re on cloud 9. your cunt twitches with need because you can feel every detail of her mouth dragging along your heat.

your moans are uncontrollable as she’s practically making out with your cunt, her spit drips onto your clean bed as she’s sloppily eating your pussy out.

she’s nasty with it, spitting on it, getting it dripping wet for you to take her.

“fuck! please!! gonna cum!” you yell out.

all of a sudden, you’re met with cold air. and your cunt is met with a thought to be forgotten ‘SMACK!’

you yelp out in pain and pleasure, the mix too overwhelming for your poor pussy to handle.

“you cum when i fuckin’ tell you to. ask me if you can come next time.”

“‘m sorry vika! promise i won't do it a-again.”

“yeah, yeah. turn around.”

you whine at the loss of her mouth on you; it just feels so good. but you listen anyway.

you’re in doggy facing the headband with your back slightly arched as you look back at her behind you.

she lifts her shirt over her head; she has nothing on underneath, giving you a full view of her sculpted abs. you graze them with your fingertips, amazed at how beautiful she is.

“beautiful, gorgeous…” you state to her and your eyes meet hers once again, showing her you mean what you’re saying.

she huffs out in…shyness? she looks down at the bedspread below you two and she tugs down her boy shorts, throwing them next to all of the other clothes that are splayed out on the floor.

“gonna put it inside, alright? gonna make you feel it.”

you look forward and your eyes trace the design of your headboard, anticipating her cock pushing inside of you, anticipating the delicious pain.

she eventually does push the toy inside of you, bottoming out quickly.

she gives you a moment to adjust. you both are breathing heavily and your nimble fingers grip at the sheets, mouth forming into the shape of an o because she’s so fucking deep.

one of her hands comes up to force your face into the pillows. she starts to move her hips slowly.

“fuuuuck, doll. arch that back,” she can feel the slow grind of your hips on her clit as you press back into her and arch slightly.

it’s not enough for her. she presses her other hand into the small of your back to truly get it so she’s as deep as she possibly can go in this position.

“oh my f-fucking god!” you’re moaning into the pillows, still as loud as if you were screaming.

she’s sped up now, her plastic cock digging into you swiftly yet deliberately.

“yeah…arch that shit, gimme that pussy, baby.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re still moaning into the pillow. you can feel every ridge, every detail of her.

your pussy twitches with need, your slick dripping down your thighs, cunt squelching and eyes rolling to the back of your head because of the rough way she’s handling you.

“can feel you around me, i swear. you’re so tight, baby, s-shit…”

she’s bullying your cunt relentlessly and her dirty talk is making you so unbelievably wet.

“you love this dick, don’t you? you love when i fuck this pussy, huh?”

“yes, vika! yes! just like that! love it!”

“say you’re sorry. say you’re sorry for being such a bratty little bitch.”

“hmmph!” you defy her, for fun perhaps.

she slows down tremendously compared to the pace she set before, giving you shallow thrusts to match your attitude.

“say you’re fuckin’ sorry or I’ll make sure this pussy never cums again. you’re only cumming from me, so you’ll do what the fuck i say.”

whew.

“c’mon, baby say you’re sorry so i can give you this dick. gonna make you cream on it so good if you just let go,”

she continues, “i know you want it… know you want it in your guts. know you want my cum in you," she's delirious.

gripping your hip with her free hand and your hair with the other, she lifts your head out of the pillow so she can hear you better.

you cave.

“i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry, baby. i promise i’ll be good! pleeease just fuck me! need you. need your cum…”

she leans down and kisses the small of your back, “see, now how hard was that?!”

she moves her hips at a faster pace than before, seemingly deeper as well. your face has found its way back down, voice muffled into the sheets.

“yeah, baby, take this shit—take it aaaaalll in this fuckin’ pussy. pussy’s so good for me.”

“oh f-fuck, ‘s so deep!” you look back at her once again. her teeth are biting into her bottom lip, hips snapping against your ass as she stares down at you wildly, watching the toy disappear inside of you.

you then meet her eyes, completely cockdrunk. you beg her again, “please v-vika… need your cum in my pussy. need you to knock me up.”

“give it to me, give me your cum! want it deep in me, wan��� it!”

she growls out, “f-fuck shit’s gonna make me cum.”

“fuckin’ pussy is sucking me in, gonna make me get you pregnant, baby,”

her hips are still pistoning into you, the room filling with sloppy wet noises and smacking skin.

“i’m b-begging you to let me cum, p-please!” you’re still looking into her eyes, kindly asking her for permission to soak her faux dick.

“who’s fucking you then? say my name, doll.”

“you, sevika! you!! you’re the only one,”

“fuck yeah, you whore. ‘m the only one that’s gonna be in this shit from now on. that’s right…”

“plea-”

“cum. i want you to cum on this cock, make it yours. cum all over it,” she’s thrusting against your g-spot as deep as she can with one of her legs on the bed and her hands on your hips. you have no choice but to just, take it.

her words cause the coil in your tummy to snap, your orgasm crashing down on you like a brick to your head. like if a large rock were to crush you and kill you instantly. it’s rough, it’s overwhelming.

“fuck!!” you scream through it.

“i’m cummin’ too!! not gonna pull out. i’m gonna put a baby in you, get you nice and full,”

“mhm!! yes!”

the combination of you urging her on and the pressure of her hips and your ass fucking back onto them causes her movements to stutter, “s-shit!”

her orgasm washes over her much like yours, both her hands on your hips making it easier for her cock to kiss your cervix and for her clit to feel it.

you both eventually come down from your highs. sevika pulls out of you and quickly yanks the toy off.

you’re still in the same position so she presses down on your back to get you to rest your body on the comfortable and soft surface of your bed. you’re expecting her to tug her clothes back on and leave, but she doesn’t.

she praises you for the rest of the night, rubs aloe gel on your ass to soothe the welts, and loves on you as if she’d never hated you in the first place.

“you did so good, baby.”

“i’m so proud of you, you’re amazing.”

“you’re so pretty… you’re mine now.”

…

needless to say… she’s ruined you for everyone else. your petty rivalry long forgotten and replaced with the feelings that you’ve both been hiding. and as you’re both waltzing into silco’s office for a second meeting, he’s hoping for but not expecting for there to be a change in your relationship.

he is stunned when he’s met with no more eye rolls, scoffs, and bickering.

‘wonder what’s gotten into the two of them…’ he wonders.

well, something has definitely gotten into you.

…

I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED!! finals are over so i am free from the shackles of college! (for now…)

hope you guys like it! tbh this took me forever because i couldn’t figure out the plot LMFAKOW😭😭

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

[hellfire--cult]

Rockstar!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

wc: 10k

+18 enemies to lovers, rockstar!steve, reader is a bit mean, a bit of fluff, a sprinkle of angst, drinking, smut, p in v (protected), oral (f receiving), fingering, lots of sexual tension, elevator kissing ftw, kinda hate fucking

summary: You started a 'hate' blog out of your irritation towards a certain rockstar, criticizing everything he got out, giving your personal opinion on how it could be better, not thinking that would land you a spot in his actual PR team. He hated you were always right, you hated he was cocky... or, that's what you both thought.

A/N: Joe Keery doing a tour altered my brain chemistry, so here you guys go. Thank you @andvys for proofreading this and telling me if it made sense LMAO I barely proofread this myself, so yeah. I also wrote this all in a single night, so don't mind it if it's... too stupid.

please reblog, don't be lazy.

YOUR BIGGEST FAN HATER

“It’s fucking horse shit, Steve.”

You let go of the talking button from the mixer, and you heard Steve groan from inside the recording booth. Eddie was holding back a laugh from the couch as Joyce snickered on your side. You saw how Steve raised his arms in defeat, staring at you with eyes that were filled with anger.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” You leaned over to press the button again, speaking into the mic.

“I know this isn’t what you want to play, and I know this isn’t what your fans want. Stop trying to be mainstream.” You let go of the button again and inhaled deeply, when you saw him angrily putting the guitar away on its stand, and Joyce sighed heavily as Steve opened the door of the booth, walking towards you.

“We’ve been working on this song for a month already, I tried every fucking version of it, and you are still not happy.” 

“I’m in your PR team. I know what will look and sound best for you.” Your reply was cold, and it made Eddie whistle from the couch.

“Let’s not get into an argument today–” But he got cut off by Steve, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Too fucking late, stay out of it Munson.” Eddie sighed, and you crossed your arms over your chest, facing your client. “What if you are cutting my wings off, huh!? Maybe this is the music I want to make, and you are not letting me.”

“Oh no, you are completely free to do whatever you want. But I studied you, Steve, and punk is not your style, nor what you really want to do. Redo it.” Your voice was sharp as you stared into those hazel orbs of his. Joyce stood behind you, and you were either the best decision ever or the worst.

Because you were Steve’s number one critic. Number one hater.

It started as a joke months ago. You were bored, sitting in your bed while watching TikToks, where you slowly but surely started getting angrier and angrier because every two videos you scrolled, Steve Harrington’s song was used. Over. And over. And over. And it wouldn’t fucking stop.

So you decided to Google the bastard. He filled your TikTok, Instagram, car radio, and weekly top song playlists. His song stayed for weeks and weeks, and you were sick of him. When you looked at his photoshoots, you saw the attraction—you really did… until you saw red carpet looks… listened to his album, and—he was fucking overrated. 

His songs had different vibes, some lyrics didn’t make sense or didn’t match the tunes, then in the red carpet he was dressed horribly sometimes, and then at concerts he didn’t know how to properly interact with fans, and also how to fucking dress. Who the hell wears a basketball getup singing a ballad?

He almost looked like he didn’t have a PR team at all to advise him.

But you were pissed. It was going to be a small joke. A small blog post giving a detailed critique of his outfit on the red carpet. You were anonymous, so you weren’t worried about that part, but you were surprised when people started agreeing with you, as well as those crazed fans you hated who tried defending his every move. He could have made a lady trip on purpose, and the fans would defend him and say he has a condition that makes his body spasm and do things against his will.

For some reason, seeing people agreeing with you filled you with relief. You got the anger out. Only for it to come back the next day when your little cousin would not stop playing the damn fucking song at a family gathering. You watched an interview of his that night, the latest one he had. You were surprised he was quite charming, but there was still a tone in his voice that made your insides fire up with rage.

And then it was post after post after post. You had a following; some agreed completely with you, some found your content funny, and some followed you only to try to tear you down every time you posted. You didn’t care. You were right in what you were saying, in every little detail you pointed out. You did, though, delete all harsh insults against him. You disliked Steve Harrington but not to the point of being evil and a piece of shit about it.

He had his good points too, which you couldn’t deny. He was pretty, very much so. He had a good voice. He had good hair. He was very nice to people in interviews, and whenever he met fans outside. Still, the dislike won over those points each time he did something unnerving or his only two hit songs played over the most random shit. Like your elevator in your apartment.

You were venting out your anger towards this guy with no other thought than to relieve yourself from how annoying everything felt, only for that venting to be read by someone. The star himself.

Now Steve first laughed it off. He was a bit taken aback by people agreeing on some of the stuff you said, but he rolled his eyes each time, saying you didn’t know what you were talking about. He showed the blog to Eddie, and unbeknownst to Steve, Eddie showed it to Joyce, his manager. Without Steve’s knowledge, Joyce started taking some of your suggestions at hand, be it for his clothes, his getup, his topics of conversation in interviews or podcasts, and you nailed it each time.

His views went up. His following went up. His hashtags trended each time, unlike before. You were good, really good. And Joyce didn’t want you to go unpaid for it.

Two months have passed since Joyce contacted you. At first you thought it was fake, a bullshit account or them trying to dox you, only to find a legitimate contract, and you were in desperate need for cash. This paid well. Very well. The plus? You got to tour around the country and see many states, all paid for.

Steve had tried to fire you on the spot when he met you, but Joyce forbade it. You were under her agency’s contract, not Steve’s. He could complain, but unless you did a bad job, there was no need to fire you. And you hadn’t done a bad job. It was excellent each time. Thanks to you, Steve had risen in popularity as one of the hottest men of the day. You had advised him to be more carefree in interviews and give people a chance to make memes out of him, out of his faces, and out of his gestures.

He didn’t understand it at first until he started seeing a cropped part of an interview of his being used as a reaction. The comments were from ‘Who is this?’ ‘Oh, he is cute!’ ‘Damn he fine.’ He didn’t want to admit it. He wasn’t going to admit you were right. 

But now with his music, he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of being right. Not with the one thing he wanted to do since forever, even when he was still following Daddy’s command. You didn’t know anything about him, so what could you know about his music? 

“You are fucking insufferable, I have promised my fans I would give them a sneak peek of my new song weeks ago, and I have till tomorrow!” His next concert was in Philadelphia. He suggested premiering a song he had been working on for a while, and you were skeptical. You started asking him for demos, and each time, you were never happy. 

“Then you won’t sing it!” Your voice was sharp as you delivered the order. Your body was tense, sweat pooling at the tips of your fingers, the more you stared at the man before you. There was fire in the room, that is something you could feel on your skin right now. 

“I will sing it! I promised that–”

“You are not even sure of your own song, so why sing it? People will not like it if you do not like it.” Steve’s jaw fell at your words, the anger rising up in him more and more. He couldn’t fucking stand you. He couldn’t fucking stand you were good at your work. He couldn’t fucking stand that you couldn’t stand him either.

“And what do you know what is in my mind?” He spat back, and Joyce finally got in between, separating the two of you. You hadn’t noticed just how close you stepped towards him. How his breath fanned over your face. Only when the warmth of it was gone from your nose did you realize the closeness. 

“Okay, let’s settle. Steve, I think she is right. You are not even sure of this song…” Joyce tried to explain calmly, unlike you did to him. You could see Steve’s vein popping on the side of his neck as he clenched his jaw. Eddie cleared his throat as he got up from the couch, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Let’s go cool off, big boy.” Eddie winked your way, always telling you he would somehow make the waters grow calm again. You wondered if that was going to be the case this time. Steve’s eyes never left your face, and yours never left his. 

Finally, he turned around without saying anything else and left the room. Eddie turned to look at Joyce with a wince, only for her to wave at him as thanks. Once the door closed, she turned to you, crossing her arms over her chest. You frowned, confused, shrugging your shoulders in question.

“What?”

“A little more tact, next time?” You rolled your eyes at her request, shaking your head.

“Tact? Tact is what led him to make all the mistakes he did before. No one was telling him what was right and what looked awful.” Joyce sighed, rubbing her temple in annoyance. 

“You two…” 

“Us two, what?” And it seemed as if Joyce bit her tongue. She shook her head to dismiss what she was about to say.

“Let’s hope tomorrow he doesn’t… do something reckless.”

You doubted it.

It sucked.

People didn’t like it.

Just like you said.

Just like you had fucking said. 

He had tried the version of the song he liked best, and people clapped at the end of it, but it wasn’t massive cheering. He went against your order of not singing the song, but he had convinced himself he liked it, and honestly, he couldn’t even blame it entirely on the people. He hated every single version he made of this song.

The lyrics looked good, but the tune of it was what sucked. It didn’t fit. The lyrics didn’t fit any of those beats or genres he played around with. He really wanted this song, but he hated every version he wrote. What was his own version? He thought he had himself figured out, but now? Now it was all a blur.

It was 2 am, and he went down to the hotel bar for a drink because he needed a distraction from looking at his phone and read what people had to say. He sat down at a booth, drinking his negroni, and pulled out his notebook for his songs. He flipped through the pages and found the lyrics of this particular song, and he frowned as he remembered the lack of enthusiasm from the crowd. 

He put on his reading glasses and he was scanning it, over and over again, so focused he missed the part where you had sat down in front of him with a beer in hand.

“Told you.”

His head snapped up to look at you. There was no smirk, no smug grin, no ego being shown. You were being professional, but he still hated it. He hated you for being right. For having been the reason his career had been going up instead of plummeting to the ground. 

“No need for those remarks right now.”

You studied his face. It was one of those you particularly enjoyed. When he looked concentrated, and that little piece of hair fell on the side of his face, over those glasses, that's when you thought he looked best. Your breathing hitched at the intrusive thought, one of the many you had about the man in front of you, and even more since you started working with him. 

“You know, we could try to figure it out together.”

He was surprised at your response, making him look up from his notebook with a skeptical look. He studied your face, waiting to see a flinch that would give away you were joking, or a little tug at the corner of your lips trying to cover up your laughter, but he found none.

“Are you serious?” You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer before looking down at his hand that was holding a pen.

“When I tell you I didn’t find it nice, it didn’t mean I didn’t have ideas.” You confessed to him, and he tilted his head your way, still squinting with skepticism.

“Why didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t my place. Like you said, you know yourself better than anyone else, so I wasn’t going to let my ideas maybe… influence you.” You looked down, a little bit embarrassed because it was the first time you and Steve had a civil talk for once. You were also a little angry for wanting to talk to him like this, but he never gave you such a chance… or maybe you hadn’t.

He blinked a few times in surprise, looking down at his notes for a second. He gulped once, and he cleared his throat.

“You think your ideas are so good that they would influence me? Wow, a bit of an ego there.” You couldn’t help but chuckle because it was just a matter of minutes before he made it a fight, but you were surprised when he laughed along. He didn’t mean what he just said. He hesitated for a few seconds before sliding the notebook your way.

“Collaborative.” You said, and he rolled his eyes, handing the pen to you. You took it, your fingers grazing his for a second, sending chills all over your body. Chills, you were going to pretend did not happen at all. 

“C’mon, let me see what your ideas are.” He took a sip of his drink as he watched you study the lyrics. Instead of scribbling on top of his original ones, you were respectful and wrote it all over on a new page. He, of course, noticed it, and it made him move in his seat in which he thought was because he was uncomfortable, but in all honesty, he felt… delighted.

“I think that if you change some adjectives here, or even elongate some phrases, you can make this song like… Slow, but with a slight upturn in the bridge.” You explained as you scribbled a few more seconds before giving the notebook back to him.

He studied it with a frown and–

“God, can you stop being right for two seconds?” Your eyes widened at his outburst, but before you could mention anything of it, he called for a waiter and ordered another negroni and a beer for you. You hadn’t noticed you had drank the entire bottle while writing down notes. 

“I didn’t even say I wanted another beer!” You complained, and he glared at you, but there was a hint of something else behind it. Respect, and also, the need for you to stay.

“Well, we’re gonna work on this, so you have to be fueled up.”

And for some reason, that made you happy. It made you feel useful in another kind of way. Instead of clashing all the time, the two of you spent an hour working on that notebook while drinking and letting the alcohol relax you both. You did not fight. You did not clash against each other. You were hearing one another out and that’s– Fuck, that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

When you first met Steve, you tried to introduce yourself nicely; he was a client after all. He obviously had his ego busted thanks to you, so he didn’t want you near him at all. At first, you didn’t care, but then, when you saw him interact with his best friends, or with Joyce, even with random girls, you couldn’t help but feel jealous that you were never going to have that kind of Steve for you. You were never going to have one of his smiles directed your way, or you would never hear his laughter thanks to you.

And that’s because you liked it. You liked that side of him, and you have always loved what you shouldn’t have.

An hour passed, the three beers now kicking in, but just making you tipsy, bold, and to Steve’s surprise, giggly. You laughed at certain things he pointed out, and just like you, he hated that you never smiled for him. He hated that all he got from you were snarky remarks or orders. It intrigued him, which only added to the fuel of despising you. Why would he want a mean girl like you? Why would he want someone who criticized him out of fun? That’s fucked up. He clearly had something wrong going on in his head.

But he couldn’t deny how pretty you looked. There were times he remained silent while you said something because, even when angry because of something he said, you looked pretty. You looked pretty while frowning, glaring at him. Eddie had joked around with him, telling him you two needed to fuck it out and get it over with. Steve didn’t know what Eddie was on about because, why the hell would he want to fuck you?

And now, with four drinks in, he can answer that fucking question with no shame.

It was always a tug-of-war game, see who caved in first. There were times, little ones, when he would be having a hard time with a fan interaction, and you would step up to cover for him. You were in charge of making sure no interviewers asked out of line questions to him. 

And on your side, you noticed how Steve would order either coffee or ask Joyce if she could give you a day off. There were times when you didn’t sleep because it was an event, an interview, and a concert, back to back to back, so the content was fresh. You had to do your investigation and see what the people were talking about, and not miss a single hour. Joyce told you that Steve demanded you back off for a while.

You were mad at first, only to realize after sleeping for twelve hours straight just how badly you needed to rest. You tried thanking him after that, but it ended with you two staring at each other before he got called into the recording booth. You never got to thank him for those times when, even if your job was to basically shut him down, he cared for your health.

The two of you weren’t blind to each other, you were just idiots.

“Okay, hang on, so, you and Eddie never banged?” Steve almost spat his negroni, a laugh escaping his lips, shaking his head. 

“Why the fuck would you even think that!?”

“He is very touchy!” Steve smirked, tilting his head to the side, making that curl of his hair fall a little bit as well. Damn him.

“You jealous that he is touchy with me?” You gasped, feeling your stomach do a twirl at the accusation, but you shook your head aggressively.

“No! But come on, the girls online also think you two are dating! There’s even fucking fanfictions about you two!” He squinted slightly, now confused.

“What are fanfictions?” Your eyes widened in surprise, a smile of mischief appearing on your lips. You hummed as you grabbed your phone and tapped on the screen. He took this time to scan your features. You looked relaxed, as if you were treating him like a person and not the celebrity you have to keep in check. Then his eyes moved downwards, and– that damn neck of yours. Fuck–

“Here.” You handed him your phone with a smirk on your face. He took it without question, seeing it was text, and he took a sip of his drink as he read, adjusting the glasses over his face. For some reason, he decided to read it out loud, which only made you cover your mouth in anticipation–

“Steve could only look Eddie into his eyes for a few seconds, before his hands started making their way to the belt of his best friend’s pAAAHNT–” He dropped the phone on the table with disgust and a yelp, and you burst out laughing, throwing yourself back onto the booth, holding your belly. “What the hell!”

You couldn’t help but feel the tears building up from laughing so hard, and soon enough he started laughing too, taking his glasses off to cover his eyes as if he were in pain. The song was forgotten, the work, the fans, the blog, everything. You were just in a bar booth, laughing your ass off with a cute boy. That’s what it felt like.

“And you’re always the passive.” Steve choked on his saliva as he leaned down to rest his head into his arms, cradling it while laughing hysterically into them. You wiped your eyes, trying to cease your laughter, but having a hard time doing so. 

“I’m gonna kill myself.” He said jokingly, which prompted you to laugh again. After a minute, he finally came back up, his eyes teary from the laughter, and he was taking deep breaths in to calm himself down. “Also, the passive!?” 

“Yeah, the one who takes it.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest, which only made your eyes fall to the extent of his biceps getting slightly bigger because of the flex. You gulped as you were finally left with small giggles, putting your phone away.

“If only my fans knew.” He mumbled, but you caught on to it. You frowned in question, a cheeky smile on your lips as you rested your elbows on the table and your chin at the top of your joined hands. 

“Knew what, Harrington?” His eyebrow twitched for just a second in thought before he finally caught sight of you. His body tensed, and the air around you both did as well. You two were lucky no one else was down there at the bar at that time. 

So, as his tongue and muscles got a bit loose thanks to the alcohol, his crossed arms came to rest on the table as well, leaning forward, your way.

“If they knew how I really was in bed, I would not be considered the bottom.” Your legs clenched together at those words because– Fuck, it’s been a while since you had sex and, you had been interested in Steve despite hating him, but it shouldn’t be. It shouldn’t happen, and now he is letting your imagination go wild.

“Oh? And how is the nice, charming, gentlemanly Steve Harrington in bed, huh?” You tried to sound as teasing as possible, using the names people called him online, but all you got from him was a cheeky grin, one that was making your entire body turn on like a wildfire.

“That, I keep to myself and whoever I have sex with, honey.” The pet name. The pet name came out by itself and with no restraint. He was staring at your reactions, and– Was he causing any? He noticed how you looked away, taking the last sip of your beer and, fuck, he did. He did cause a reaction, and you looked good like this. You looked good when you were speechless.

And he can think of a way or two to provoke that again.

“As long as there’s an NDA afterwards.” You joked a bit, trying to hide how much you have reacted to his words because the images in your head kept popping up. You have seen him shirtless thanks to photoshoot campaigns, and, thanks to the girls online pointing it out, you obviously stumbled over thirst posts… some were of his bulge thanks to his tight pants. 

He huffed a bit as his eyes never left your figure, his tongue licking the inside of the bottom of his lip in thought, trying to gather up even more courage than what the liquid had given him. It was starting to wear off, so he had to use it quickly.

“And what about you?”

“Mmm?”

“How are you in bed? You think that in a so-called fanfiction of this, would you be the bottom?” Your eyebrows went up, stunned at the bold question. You leaned back, putting your hands to your sides, grabbing onto the seat, and popping your chest up as if you were lying back on the seat. His eyes drifted to your cleavage, and fuck, did that dress look good on you.

“Well… If it were a fanfiction of me and you… I would definitely be pegging you.” His eyes widened, his arms still crossed as he leaned back. His pants started to tighten up more and more, and if your teasing before made him hard a few times, the sexual teasing was going to be the death of him.

“Is that right?” He challenged, and the fire just kept spreading more and more, and this was not supposed to happen, because it shouldn’t. You really should get up, say goodbye, and go away. Yet, you stayed put.

“What? You think you could dominate the situation? I hardly believe it, you can barely fight me when I suggest something for your image.” You scoffed to emphasize your mockery, but he didn’t even smile. Instead, his pupils were dilated, looking your way. It only made your limbs grow limp. It was as if he just made your entire self feel like something you could squish with just a hard grip. 

“Hmm…” He hummed, his eyes still racking all over your body, and he wanted you to feel it. He wanted you to feel observed, he wanted you to feel like fucking prey for him, because he knew he was good. He knew it, and that is the one thing he won’t tolerate you criticizing.

He really wants to shut you the fuck up.

“I’m sorry. We need to do a clean-up before the morning shift starts?” The waiter came over as politely as possible, and your eyes noticed the discomfort on his face. He was obviously uncomfortable because he knew he had interrupted, but maybe it was for the better. You took a deep breath before standing up. Steve gave a generous tip to the waiter, getting up and putting the small notebook in his back pocket while he hung his reading glasses on the collar of his button-up shirt. 

“Thank you.” You mumbled to the waiter before you headed out of the bar, Steve following right behind. Every step felt heavy with tension as you two walked towards the elevators. He stood next to you with his hands in his front pockets, and you were trying not to glance, but the stickiness between your legs was bringing you back to the real world, in which you were wet for the man you ‘hated’, making you move in your place.

“You gotta pee?” He asked as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Spacious and empty. Your belly flipped, and you noticed how his hand pressed against the frame so the doors wouldn’t close, so you could step in first. You gulped, walking into the elevator, shaking your head.

“No. These heels are just killing me.” He chuckled, stepping inside and pressing your room’s floor first. You were surprised he remembered it. 14.

“Really? You’ve been sitting all night, though.” He reminded you, and you felt yourself flushing over at being caught. You shrugged, trying not to let the nerves, or rather, the need to jump on him, consume you as the doors closed, leaving you two alone.

“They can still hurt. You’ve never worn heels, you have no say.” He chuckled at your response, and then it was silent.

The air was tense, just the sound of the elevator slowly moving as it went up. You scratched the side of your face, trying to distract yourself from the events of the night. He then leaned against the mirror behind him, his arms crossed as his eyes ran all over your body, which only made you scoff a bit.

“What?”

“Why are you acting like you’re the main character of a music video?” You asked, kind of irritated. He chuckled, tilting his head.

“Jealous?” 

“Of your ego? Never.” 

Then the floor kept clicking upward, and his hand raked over his hair, as if nervously, or maybe fed up.

“You know, for someone who claims to hate me, you have a knack of finding me in every single room we're in.”

Your eyes widened at his words, making your head turn to look at him. He was grinning your way, knowing he was getting under your skin. You level him with one look, shaking your head.

“Please, you orbit me, Harrington.” Then it was silent as you two stared at one another. The air was thick with tension, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ear, a loud ringing that was making you almost lose your balance.

Steve was feeling the pulse in his neck quicken by the second, and it almost felt as if it were about to pop his vein off. He uncrossed his arms, and he took a step closer your way, tentatively.

“Do you still hate me?” His question made your stomach flip, when it fucking shouldn’t. You lifted your chin, trying to make it look like you were unfazed.

“Shouldn’t I?”

That only prompted him to take one more step, and you would only have to raise your hand to touch his chest from how close he got to you. You could feel the heat on your ears, on the tips of your fingertips, in your belly. 

“You didn’t look like you hated me when you were laughing down at the bar with me.” 

Your breathing skipped as his eyes went down to your lips, and your knees trembled slightly at how good he was with physical teasing. He knew what to do to make you crumble, and you hated him a little more because of that. 

“Maybe you just didn’t look like a jerk then.”

“Do I look like one now?” His response was fast, ready to counterattack you. You stayed silent, and that was the answer he needed. He licked his lips, studying your face as his hand itched with the need to touch you. The need to grab you, anywhere. “You’re really… insufferable, honey.”

Your mouth opened in disbelief at his words, only for the elevator doors to open on your floor. Maybe he was only mocking you for the night. Maybe it was his goal to know if you fancied him or not, and he might have gotten his answer, and that made you mad. You scoffed and stepped out of the elevator, ready to go to your room and write a long fucking post on how he sucked ass tonight–

But his hand gripped your arm, pulling you back in as his other hand pressed against another button aggressively, his floor, just four more floors up. You managed to let a small gasp leave you before his lips clashed against yours, the elevator doors closing behind you.

Your body moved instinctively, your arms wrapping desperately around his shoulders as his arms wrapped around your body, his hands on your back, pressing you close to him. It felt desperate, rough, filled with pent-up feelings that both of you were never going to admit. 

He backed the two of you against a wall, his hand stopping the impact for a second so you wouldn’t hit it hard, before wrapping it back around your body. You could feel your center throbbing for him, and this was just a kiss. Not even with tongue. His hand glided down to your right thigh, making you wrap your leg around his hip, and then, you moaned into his mouth.

His hard on was tight against his pants, pressing it against you and creating friction on your clothed clit. He took the advantage of pushing his tongue inside your mouth, finally having a proper taste of you, making his stomach flip over. His hips rolled instinctively once, making you groan into the kiss as your nails ran all over his hair, scratching at his scalp.

You heard him groan and grip onto your thigh even tighter, his hand underneath your dress, and someone could walk into the elevator at any moment and see you two together, but you couldn’t care less. Not now. He didn’t care either, even when he should, because he was a rockstar, and this could make it in a post anytime soon. 

Your tongue was exquisite against his, and again, his hatred for you only grew. Why were you so fucking perfect? It wasn’t fair. He pulled away after a second, panting heavily against your lips. 

“Still hate me?” He mumbled desperately, and you nodded, your hips rubbing against his, earning a moan from both of you.

“So much…”

“Then get off on my floor.”

The elevator bounced a bit as it dinged. He pulled away from you as the doors opened, and you didn’t even hesitate to follow him, like a magnet. He smirked breathlessly as he grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the elevator and walking down the hallway. His hand went into the left back pocket of his jeans, and he got his card out, stopping in front of his door. 

You were looking around, making sure you were not being seen, but, in all honesty, some part of you wanted to. Some part wanted people, the girls who thirsted for him, to know he was taking you to his room. Maybe it was your ego talking. Maybe it was just some proud moment of fucking a celebrity… You weren’t going to admit the other possibility of why you wanted everyone to know you were about to fuck Steve.

He passed the card against the lock of the door, and it opened, letting you in first. Once he closed it behind him, he didn’t give you a single chance to look around, to look at the much fancier room he had rented for the night, because he was back on you in an instant. His hands cradled your face as he kissed you roughly, passionately, and fuck you were growing addicted to them. You had never been kissed in such a way, you felt completely and utterly wanted, desired. 

The kiss was greedy, desperate, and then he pulled away from you to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, grazing his teeth against the skin of your pulse point. Your hands were dragging against his biceps, trying to center yourself back to earth, a hoarse chuckle escaping you.

“You kiss like you’ve been waiting to do it since the moment I called you overrated in your face.” Your eyes fluttered shut at a particular suck on your neck, making you sigh.

“I have.” He growled against you, “you piss me off so much, I get hard by thinking about shutting you up.”

“Oh, fuck off–” You were cut off as his hand started moving up on your thigh, under your dress. His fingertips dragging against the elastic of your underwear. His hips pressed against you, making you feel his bulge against your belly, his leg sliding between yours, thigh pressing against your cunt. You moaned against your will, feeling that sweet friction on you again. He pulled away from your neck, his nose brushing against yours.

“This what you imagined?” He murmured, and his mouth brushed against yours, making you sigh. “Me, pinning you like this? Getting you wet after talking shit the way you did?”

“I imagined punching you–” You gasped as his fingers ghosted over your clothed pussy, a soft huff escaping him as he pressed even harder, feeling your wetness.

“And yet you are soaked.”

You were going to retort, if it weren’t for the fact that he got down on his knees, right before you. He hooked your leg over his shoulder, his eyes locked in your panties with hunger in them. You were shocked, looking down at him, and his lips found your inner thigh, kissing it softly before giving it a soft nibble.

“Still want to hit me?” You whined as your hips moved a bit towards him, and his mouth was on the wet lace in a second. You gasped, throwing your head back against the wall as your hands went to grab onto his head. 

“Fuck–” You moaned out as he sucked on your clothed clit. If this is how it felt with your panties on, you were desperate to know how it felt without them. He moaned at your scent, at your taste, and he got his other hand to move between your legs, while the other gripped onto your ass, and he hooked his fingers on the center of your panties to move them to the side.

You clenched at nothing when the cold air hit your pussy, only for that to be replaced by the warmth of his tongue, making you sigh with delight. He swirled it around your clit, making moans escaping you as he groaned into your cunt, before sliding his tongue between your folds, tasting you completely.

“You taste so fucking good…” He moaned into you as he fondled your ass, making you grip his hair even tighter. He lapped at you like a man starved, as if you were the most delectable thing he ever tasted. 

“Fuck, don’t stop… Steve–” You whimpered as your back arched off the wall when he dipped his tongue inside of you. This was the living proof this fucker was a singer. He knew how to move his lips, his tongue, going from licking to sucking and it was driving you wild. 

“Never.” You heard him mumble against you, and then his hand left your ass, and you felt the tip of his fingers gliding against your entrance, making you gasp. “Beg for them.” 

Your mouth fell open at the request, but he sucked on your clit again and your walls clenched around nothing, when they wanted to clench around something. Your body was flushed all over, hating him just a little more.

“Please…”

“Please, what? Come on, you are super clear when you order me around, you can be clear in your begging too.” You fucking hated him. Your belly turned desperately, feeling even more aroused than before, and your dominating side was slowly slipping away from you. 

“Please, use your fingers… Please–”

“Good girl.” Your eyes widened when you felt two of his fingers going inside of you slowly, his ring and middle finger, and– You couldn’t deny it. You had seen his hands before, way too fucking big, and maybe you had fantasized a bit once or twice about them. 

Those fantasies did his fingers no justice as he started pumping them in and out of you mercilessly. The squelching of your pussy echoing in the room as well as your moans and his. He was flickering your clit with the tip of his tongue, curling his fingers towards him to try to find that special spot inside of you.

You moaned his name when you felt your belly start to coil, and you realized you were getting close. Embarrassingly fast. This is what you get for not having a moment’s peace to take care of yourself for weeks.

“Steve– Oh–” He could feel your walls fluttering against his fingers and he groaned as he pulled away from your clit, looking up at you.

“Tell me how much you hate me.” And you felt your body growing a sweat as your legs started to shake, the one over his shoulder twitching as your climax built and built.

“I fucking hate–” You gasped at a particular movement of his fingers, making you jerk against him, the first warning you were going to cum making itself present. Your hands gripped his hair tightly, desperately. “-- that you’re so good at this–”

He chuckled and he sucked hard against your clit, his fingers dragging in and out of you. You were breathing heavily, and then, you came undone. You saw stars behind your eyelids as your back arched off the wall. Your leg over his shoulder hooked towards his back, pushing him into you desperately as you moaned loudly, and he had to concentrate on not cumming right then and there because you just sounded incredible.

He slowed his pace as he helped you ride your orgasm out, licking, taking your slick into his mouth to taste your climax. Once he felt you unclench, and your leg relaxed against him as well as your hands letting go of his hair, he pulled away from you. He breathed in deeply as he tried to catch his breath. 

He patted your leg, silently telling you to move from him, and you followed the instructions, trying to stabilize your breathing as you put your leg down. He gave one last kiss to your clit, making you groan and jerk in your place at the overstimulation. He chuckled, grabbing the edges of your panties to finally pull them down from you. You stepped out of them, and he finally stood back up, towering over you. He threw your panties onto the small table next to the door.

His eyes found yours, and you saw the darkness in them, the lust, and you trembled once again as you felt him grab onto your waist. His lips clashed against yours, and you could taste yourself, making you a little dizzy as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. His tongue instantly connected with yours as he pressed himself against you. Your hand glided downwards in between your bodies, finally touching the big bulge in his pants.

He groaned into the kiss as he felt you palming him, then pressing your palm against him. He needed more. He wanted more. He pulled away from you, breathing heavily into your lips. 

“Bed, now.” You nodded at his request, kissing him desperately again as he pulled the two of you off from the wall, walking you backwards and towards the bed. You jumped a bit when you felt the edge of it on the back of your knees, pulling away from him. His hands gripped the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head. “Oh, fuck–”

You didn’t let him touch you, moving to sit on the bed, getting out of your heels before you moved back onto it, setting yourself in the middle, completely naked. You saw how flushed he was, gripping onto his shirt, ripping it off his body, and then quickly moving to his belt. His movements were rushed as you stared at his stripping. You saw that chest hair you’ve thought of brushing your fingers over a few times before, then the freckles in places you’ve always wondered if they even had them. 

Then he got out of his shoes and jeans, and all was left were those blue tight boxers on him and– Fuck. He looked big. He looked so big. He noticed your eyes on him, making him smirk, but also shiver from the attention you were giving him. He grabbed the hem of them and pulled them down finally, his cock springing up and hitting against his belly and your eyes widened.

You didn’t know if in all your life you had slept with smaller than average dicks or if Steve was just… huge. You noticed the smug look on his face, and you wanted to wipe it off, so you stared at him as you were propped on your elbows, slowly spreading your bent legs for him. His eyes fell back to your cunt and he had to take a sharp intake of breath in, his dick twitching for attention. 

He got on the bed, crawling your way, but before he completely covered you, he leaned to the side, towards the bedside table. You saw him grab his wallet, opening it to get a condom out, making you roll your eyes. He noticed, straightening up after tossing his wallet back on the table.

“Anything you want to say?”

“Nope.” 

“I can absolutely get off of you, if you so want me to–”

“I swear if you don’t fuck me in the next five seconds, I’m walking out of here.” He chuckled at your whiplash of emotions. You saw him rip the foil with his teeth, and that shouldn’t have been as hot as it had been, but here you were. He rolled the condom on himself, and you took a sharp intake of breath as you lay down when he crawled a little closer, getting on top of you. 

“Anything your snarky mouth wants to add?” He asked and you were getting pissed, frustrated as you grabbed onto his shoulders, glaring at him.

“Why are you still fucking talking–” Your words were cut off with a gasp when you felt him pushing in. His eyes were on how your face contorted into a silent moan, a satisfying groan vibrating in his throat as he gave a nibble to your jaw.

“Yeah, there you go, shut the fuck up–” You wanted to punch him, but the more he filled you, the more you couldn’t come up with any words in your head. Your mouth was open, choking on your spit at every inch. “Fuck–”

He cursed as he felt your warmth all around him, and maybe Eddie was right. You two needed to fuck it out. He couldn’t believe how good you felt, and he could have had you all these months if he hadn’t been so stubborn. If you hadn’t been one too. If you two had stopped for a second and just talked with each other the way you did today.

But then, this sex wouldn’t have been as delicious as it was going to be.

He growled into your ear as he thrusted inside of you in one sharp movedent, hilting himself into your cunt, bottoming out completely, and you could barely breathe. It was a sudden stretch. It was big, suffocating even, knocking all the air that was held in your lungs. His hands were on each side of your head, but his lips were on your ear, breathing into it.

He waited for a few seconds for you to adjust to him, but also to calm himself down because he was sure he was going to cum two strokes in. He took deep breaths in as he concentrated on anything else but your soft little whimpers. He felt you roll your hips against him, and he cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

His hips started to slowly roll, in and out, soft movements to get you used to the friction, and you were already going insane for it. You felt so full, each drag against you was incredible, making you tremble underneath him. Your nails were scratching on his back, legs spreading even more.

“Steve– More…” You gulped, not even believing the soft whimper, the soft plea that tumbled out of your lips. He hummed into your ear, and his hips started picking up a pace, and your moans finally started leaving your mouth. He felt a wave of heat all over his body the moment his name was called, breathlessly, and he had to see your face.

He leaned up, holding himself up by his hands as his hips snapped into yours. Your face was contorted in pleasure. Your eyebrows were downwards, your mouth was open, and your eyes were half lidded as you stared at the ceiling. You looked marvelous, and fuck he wanted to see more. He wanted to see you choke on your words.

He sat back on his legs, his hands coming to grip the back of your knees to keep you spread for him, and he started moving in fast thrusts, deep, making the bed creak and the headboard hit the wall behind it, over and over again. Your moans became louder, your hands coming to grip the pillow beneath you. Your eyes found his face. He was frowning, the hair now almost sticking to his forehead, his body was flushed red, and you noticed how the veins on his biceps were pronounced, as well as the one on his neck.

He rolled his head over his shoulders at a particular drag of his cock, making you clench around him. Then again, this time, making him moan your name, which made your brain short-circuit.

“You feel so fucking good…” He felt his belly burning, and he knew he had to be quick in making you cum again because he was going to anytime soon. It was embarrassing, but he wasn’t a man of taking groupies, or fucking his fans. He also barely had time to jerk himself off, because he was barely alone. 

You whimpered at his words, your back arching off the bed as your body bounced back and forth thanks to his thrusts. His eyes were fixed on your breasts, watching them, and he growled as he moved downwards once again, his lips closing on your left nipple and softly tugging on it.

“Steve!” You gasped and he gave the same treatment to the right one, making you clench around his cock. He growled into your breast, his thrusts becoming slow, shallow, and deep. Each time he pulled out, he kept the tip in, only to thrust back in roughly, rolling his hips inside of you at the end of it. 

At each snap, you both heard the loud thump of the headboard, but it only heightened the experience. Whoever was next to him, if they saw you the next day walking out of his room, they would know what happened. He couldn’t care less; in fact, he hoped someone would see you. Someone would see you walking out, with wobbly legs, with his marks all over your neck.

He continues that pace, getting his hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive clit which made you jerk your hips towards him. You were breathless as tears pooled in your eyes from how good it felt. How amazing he was making you feel, and you wanted to punch him for that. His breath was in your ear as his fingers picked up a pace, making you mewl underneath him.

“Say it.” You frowned in confusion, only for his teeth to bite your earlobe, making you gasp.

“Say what?” He rolled his hips inside of you, making your hands snap towards his biceps, gripping him tightly as you moaned out his name.

“That you don’t hate me.” Another roll that had you biting on his shoulder, a moan escaping his lips, and into your ear. 

“I don’t hate you…” You answered and he moaned your name, sweetly, this time, and you felt your body light up at his tone. Your belly started to burn up again, twirling inside out, and his fingers were working overtime now to get you to cum for a second time.

“Louder, baby. Say it louder.” His hips started moving faster, your walls fluttering around him as your hands ran through his hair, pushing his mouth into your neck. You could feel him biting down on your skin, making you whimper and shiver underneath him.

“I don’t hate you, Steve! Please– Don’t stop–” And he doesn’t. He kept the pace, his fingers on your sensitive clit, swirling around as his cock kept punishing your insides. Your g-spot was grazed at each stroke, and your eyes started to roll to the back of your head.

“I’m about to cum– Fuck–” He cursed your name, and you started panting before your second orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave, stronger than the first one. Your walls clenched tightly around him, your eyes shutting tightly, and your nails digging into his shoulders.

His name came out of your lips with a cry, your cunt trying to push him out of you from how much you were clenching. He huffed a few breaths, choking on his moans from how tight you felt, to the point it was almost painful. He watched you contort underneath him, and you never looked more amazing than right now.

And at your sight, he came. He groaned your name as he spilled inside the condom, his hands coming to grip the pillow underneath your head as he snapped his hips into you at each spurt. His face almost looked pained, but it was the complete opposite. He could barely handle the pleasure he felt, and he was sure he came way too hard into the condom.

You managed to open your eyes to see his reaction, and fuck– He looked so good like that. Definitely another look you liked on him. Then he finally stilled, and that left the two of you breathing heavily, looking at each other with half-lidded eyes. 

You two crossed a line that should not have been crossed. You couldn’t blame the alcohol because that just made you both brave—brave to do something you were scared of doing before. It didn’t make you do something you two didn’t want; it urged and encouraged you to do it.

Then, he winced when he slowly pulled out of you, looking down at the mess he had made and– he did cum a lot. You groaned at the feeling, and then his eyes found yours again. Should you leave? Should you just… bid goodbye to him now? You didn’t know what any of this really meant, so you needed some guidance over here. You didn’t want to leave, but didn’t know where Steve stood. 

“Well… that happened…” You softly spoke, and Steve huffed, nodding and plopping next to you, staring at the ceiling, same as you. He took the condom off and tied it up, throwing it on the floor, something he could take care of later, because right now, he couldn’t concentrate on that.

“Yeah. That happened.” He was also thinking the same things you were. Should he let you sleep in his room if he leaves? Should he just let himself fall asleep? But fuck, he didn’t want to just pretend that didn’t happen.

So, fuck it.

You were surprised when you felt arms engulf you, pulling you towards a chest as you both now lay on your sides. Your eyes were fixed on his chest hair, feeling your cheeks burning like crazy because you weren’t prepared for him to cuddle you. Not that you were complaining. 

His hands rubbed against your back, his thoughts running. He wasn’t going to let this happen just once. Hell, he wanted what happened back down in the bar. He wanted to kiss you whenever you frowned at him. He wanted to make you proud as well, following your instructions, letting you know he heard. Letting you know he took your words into account.

“Still think I’m overrated?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your arms wrapping around him.

“Absolutely…” 

But maybe you weren’t so sure you meant it now. His fingertips were softly grazing your skin, giving you soft caresses that made you melt more and more into him. You hummed appreciatively against him, nuzzling against his chest. Then, you started laughing, pulling back a bit from him. He frowned, a smile creeping on his lips.

“What?”

“I just remembered– So many of the comments I get, say that I secretly want to fuck you. That, that’s the reason why I do the blog.” His eyebrows raised in surprise, then a squint with a cheeky glint.

“Secretly? If only they knew we might have to pay the safety deposit of this hotel room because, pretty sure, we made a hole in the wall with the headboard.” You giggled, covering your face in shame, and he could not stop himself from being amused by this new side of you. “You gonna tell your loyal followers the truth?”

“That I got railed by the rockstar I roast for fun?” You hummed a bit, looking up at him. “Tempting.”

“Only if you include the part where you begged.” He smirked and you scoffed, shaking your head, but your heart was filling up with small little butterflies.

“I did not beg.”

“Oh, honey…” He bit his lip, loving this little banter with you as he rolled on top of you again, holding one of your hands against the pillow. “You absolutely begged.”

Before, you would have wanted to punch the smug grin on his face, but right now, you wanted to kiss it. His hair was all messy, and his skin was all flushed. He just looked too pretty, irking you just a little bit.

“You are more tolerable when you don’t talk.” You snarkily replied, and he coughed a chuckle, giving you a small nod.

“And you’re pretty when you’re helping me, instead of being a bit of a bitch.” Your eyebrows raised up in surprise, your mouth falling open. Your heart skipped a bit, tilting your head at him.

“Is this admitting you like me, rockstar?” He hummed, putting his lips on your shoulder to lay a soft, lazy kiss there. You sighed, your eyes fluttering closed for a second.

“Let’s say, I didn’t hate fucking you stupid.”

“Wow, romance isn’t dead.” You replied dryly, not really liking that answer, not noting the sarcasm and humor behind his tone. He noticed, chuckling and pulling his head back up to look down at your angry face.

“Let me take you out.” And you weren’t expecting that, your breathing catching in your throat as you tried to swallow from the sudden nerves that invaded you.

“Like a date?” He gulped, finally feeling his stomach turning at the fear of your answer. He slowly nodded, finally admitting to wanting more than to share some sheets with you.

“What do you say?”

You couldn’t help but ponder. This was probably a bad idea, wasn’t it? No matter how you looked at it, this would end up in shambles, wouldn’t it? He was someone famous, you were just a person in his team. That’s all. He noticed you were hesitating, making him grow a little anxious and a bit desperate, so he tried talking again–

“You can still make fun of me, my music, my lyrics, and what I wear. I will even let you write a scathing review of my bedroom performance…” He gulped, knowing he was begging at this point, but something about you was driving him insane. Something was telling him to risk it. To dive in. 

And you found it endearing. You couldn’t help but find him extremely charming, making you bite your bottom lip as your eyes went back and forth with his. You leaned up and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, pulling away with a small nod.

“Okay… Just one.” He smiled at your response, wanting to fist pump the air.

“That’s all I need.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. You weren’t going to show him how happy you were, at least not yet. You poked his chest jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You’re still not that great, you know?” You fought, and he smirked, his mouth leaning close to yours, his voice low and a bit wicked, which made chills run down your spine. 

“Then, let me prove you wrong, again.”

end

a/n: long live joe keery's hands

[vanilleandclove]

on hold; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader

when push comes to shove, sometimes there’s cracks in your relationship that can only be mended with time and patience.

warnings: pregnancy & pregnancy loss, heated arguments, emotional numbness, postpartum depression, overexertion via work, drug mention, parental disownment, jack being a widow is finally mentioned! word count: 3.2k notes: this was a pretty heavy chapter to write. pennsylvania is a middle-third state, meaning reproductive rights for women are protected but with limitations- i’m from california and it’s a top-third state, so i tried my best to represent that- there’s a reason abbot lowballed the measurements. miscarriages are a hard experience for any woman to go through especially one that could have severely damaged a woman’s health which has happened to women in the states. i urge you to stand for women's rights as there is an infringement on them worldwide. feliz dia de las madres :)

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Jack knew before you did, he knew your body, knew the time of the month when you’d have your period without fail. It was second nature to him. 

It was the middle of February when you found out you were pregnant, Jack liked to brag that he knew a week before just from your off-putting cravings and the fact that you wanted to stay in for Valentine’s Day. He still acted surprised the day you told him, the bloodwork, the pregnancy test Heather gave you, the three ClearBlues, all indicative of you being pregnant. That night he told you he already knew, but figured it would be offensive to ask you to take a pregnancy test out of the blue. 

By March, you were aching to tell someone other than your confined circle. Dana knew, Heather knew therefore, Robby knew, and Bridget knew. You resisted telling your parents, they were on your case when it came to your late twenties, believing it was your “prime”, Jack did not know how to phrase it to his mom, so you both just settled on waiting. You weren’t showing, but the middle of the night heartburns had you waking up almost choking and freaking the fuck out of Jack. 

You peed more often, craved salt with sweetness, your body was retaining more water than usual and it made your skin feel more elastic. You opted for night shift only as the morning sickness was consistent, bought a better pair of sneakers for comfort. You were a Doctor yet pregnancy on you was uncharted territory. 

The one day you chose day shift, the middle of March, you retrospectively wish you hadn't. It was a hot day in Pittsburgh, 99 degrees and only rising every few hours. 

You had two patients come in with “eye splitting”, “brain exploding” headaches, both frat boys. They were high off laced weed, luckily nothing too dangerous, they just needed hydration and observation. 

By 3 pm you had a surgical case, a 20 year old female in hemorrhagic shock from a pelvic fracture during her diving class, in need of an angioembolization. You swore you could almost curse Gloria for not hiring more interventional radiologists, therefore you had to perform it. An hour and a half goes by and you’re sending her to post-op and yourself to the maternity ward. 

The pain in your back was if someone pulled your arms back and kicked your spine in, you were feverish and sweaty all over, your heart was thumping out of your chest. 

“I just need an ultrasound Jenna” you pressed on as she kept on telling you that you were okay, that the last check up two weeks ago was fine, your fetus was healthy and growing. She saw the look on your face, one she’s seen one too many times. She scurrying you into an imaging room. 

“The gel’s going to be cold” she murmured, putting her glasses on as you laid down on the bed. The room went mute as she examined, her expression being grave and nervous. “Y/n, we need to admit you, now” she said, putting the transducer away and removing her gloves immediately. 

“Why?” you used your elbows to anchor yourself up. You saw the millions of thoughts race through her head as she got new gloves and a spare I.V. drip, immediately whipping out her phone to text, “I miscarried?” your voice broke, realizing her urgency.

“You’re septic, your body is actively miscarrying, do you want me to call Ja-“.

Throughout your career you’ve had to call more family members than you can count about mandatory evacuation of the fetus, emergency hysterectomy, pelvic fractures, the works. You gave those calls only to be met with judgmental, distraught, sometimes awkward, other times incompetent, partners on the other line. Jack was none of those but the common denominator was, they would rather their partner tell them than the woman who just operated on their partner. Jack had to hear it from you. Had to know you were conscious and not under the scalpel you basically lived with. 

“No- No, can you bring Heather please?” you cleared your throat, trying to process everything.

Jenna brought a wheelchair out to wheel you into a room, grabbing a hold of your arm and using the blood pressure cuff to find a vein for your I.V. “We can do this one of two ways, D&C or antibiotics” she told you, “For your sake I’d do a D&C, ultimately it’s up to you, it is a bit painful afterward but with a guaranteed outcome- we’ll put you under. Antibiotics we’d have to keep you-“.

“D&C” you responded, “Please”.

“Okay, I’ll alert Collins, she’ll come afterwards, let’s get you prepped love” she told you. 

You don’t remember anything afterwards, you do remember waking up in post-op, groggy from the anesthesia. Heather and Dana at your bedside. It hurt all over, mentally speaking, your limbs felt too heavy and you felt trapped.

“We’re going to keep her for another hour then could either of you take her home?” you heard a voice speak, another muffled voice saying ‘yes’. 

“What time is it?” you croaked from lack of the intubation tube.

“It’s 4:30 hon, they’re going to keep you until 5 and then Heather is going to take you home” Dana spoke up, hands patting your head to soothe you. “None of the staff knows you’re here, I forbade Robby from letting Jack know until you’re ready”. 

You nodded, throat bobbing from the overwhelming sense of pain and frustration. Your teeth and jaw remained clenched, you were angry, hurt, confused, most importantly, you were grieving. A sob broke out of you, the croaks that left your throat haunted both Dana and Heather. 

It was a long hour, an even longer car ride to your home. You had no idea what to tell Jack or how you even got to that point. When Heather’s car pulled in instead of yours and she helped you out of the car, confusion was the only thing that crowded his mind. He took over for Heather, saying thank you before she gave your forehead a kiss and bid you both a goodbye. Leading you into the house, seeing the pained expression on your face, he didn’t know if he should pry or give you space. You took a seat on the barstools at your island, eyes devoid of emotion, Jack stood at the counter, looking at you, studying you. 

“They-“ you tried to speak up, Jack’s ears perking, “Jenna had to perform a D&C on me today” you broke the news, “I was miscarrying and about to go into septic shock when Jenna gave me the ultrasound after I had a woman needing an angioembolization” you whispered, biting your bottom lip so hard you could taste the blood. You didn’t cry, you just told him. There was not a sheer worse pain than the cramps that overtook your body, but you could see it on Jack’s face. His normal, playful, stoicism was gone and he looked just as numb as you.

It broke your heart. You told him like you always do when he asks how it was at work. 

He breathed deeply before speaking, walking towards you in order to place a kiss on your forehead, “They got everything?”.

You nodded, “I just- I need some time” your voice cracked the tiniest bit. You shrugged him off before making your painful way to the en-suite in your bedroom. 

It hurt to pee, to stand, you gripped onto the support bar for dear life, blood trailed down your legs and pain raked through your entire body. Jack could hear your sobs from the living room. It hurt to breathe. 

Jack laid out your clothes, your heating pad, and was already making you soup. You stared at the bed for minutes which felt like hours. Your back would spasm with pain every few minutes. You dressed, got into the bed and wrapped yourself in the blankets. 

Jack walked in with the soup in hand, blowing on it so it wouldn’t burn your tongue. You remained asleep, in pain but asleep. He took his spot next to you, wrapping his arms securely around yours, letting your nervous system regulate. He let you sob into his chest, told you to drink water and eat so you can heal. 

You couldn’t. He wasn’t going to force you. Whimpers left your body as it ran feverish, Jack immediately put a cold compress on the nape of your neck. He didn’t know the words to say to remedy you. But he sure made up for it action wise. 

The days following you let him take care of you, Gloria had called and gave you all the time you’d want off, it counted as bereavement pay, the amount of times you and Jack worked overtime, you had enough days for a near two months. Heather came over to hang out with you and on her day off, Robby came to have beers with Jack in the backyard.

You weren’t in so much pain after a few days, the insomnia that hit you worried both you and Jack. Most days you didn’t speak so the irritability that coursed through you whenever something remotely pissed you off never made its way off your tongue. You decided you should tell your mom, wanting drive down to Boston the next day. Jack wanted whatever you wanted, even if it meant not spending time with you or taking care of you. Interactions with you were sparing to begin with. It was a 9 hour drive, of course he was worried, it was what you needed, he had no mind to take that from you. 

You left at 3 am, you stopped by the Pitt to say bye to him, it was the first time in a week anyone saw you and they didn’t know why. Rumors spread, first it was relationship issues, someone in your family died, maybe cheating. 

It wasn’t that bad of a car ride, when you reached your mom’s house 2 hours earlier than expected, she was worried you were driving all night without Jack. Once you made it to your mom’s arms, you instantly just broke. But then you remembered, the only person that got you, understood and truly comforted you, was Jack- and Heather. 

“At least you weren’t pregnant for that long” your mom started as you both sat down on the living room couch, there was a silence between you both as you genuinely wondered if those words had left your mom’s mouth or you were going crazy, “Look at the brigh-“.

“There is no bright side to this mom” you groaned, irritability finally running its course, “I lost a baby for pete sake’s, when this happened to Y/s/n my god I can’t even put into words how you were”.

“Well let’s be realistic, Y/s/n wasn’t putting herself at risk because she waited for what? For a career?” she prodded, “Not to mention look who you’re with Y/n, both of you are way too old to be thinking of kids, move on from that stage- you’re not even married”. 

“I have to drive hours to see you yet you drop everything to be with Y/s/n and she lives across the country” you raked a hand through your hair, “And what the fuck do you mean?”.

“Do not raise your voice at me” your mom shouted at you, “You and I both know it is more common-“.

“I’m sorry who the fuck went to medical school out of the two of us?” you cut her off, “There’s a risk every single pregnancy, you think because I’m 33 I deserve to be handed this for ‘betraying my femininity’ for a career? You don’t seem to mind said career when you’re googling xyz and calling me in the middle of the fucking night”.

She remained stunned, “You’re hormonal, you’re not thinking rat-“.

“I am fine!” you broke, gritting your teeth, “You know I’ve always had dreams about you at my wedding but don’t even fucking bother anymore” you told her, putting the nail to the coffin, grabbing your car keys. By 1 pm you were as far away as humanly possible.

You made it to Pittsburgh at 11 pm, traffic took a hold on the interstate. You had stopped in Philly to get cheesesteaks for you and Jack. When you got home, his truck wasn’t in the driveway. You pulled out your phone to text him you were back, smiling at the lock screen. 

It was one of the first photos you took with Jack, you both were in a trauma room in Daryl Kennedy’s chest cavity and Jack had identified the bleeder before thinking of pressure. Blood coated all over his gown and face, when you guys exited out of the room, it looked like you both saw war. So Bridget took it upon herself to snap a photo. 

From babe; Back so soon? 

The same way you didn’t want Jenna to be the one to break the news to him, you didn’t want him finding out about your mom via text. 

You ended up crashing on the couch, the prolonged driving, the arguing. You were grateful for the fact that you and Jack often disagreed but never got into heated arguments that left you both with a sour taste in your mouth. You won the lottery when it came to understanding and communicative partners, you thanked therapy on both of your parts and the fact that you guys suffered in the beginning, basically making everything else easier.

You woke up from Jack coming home at 7 in the morning, unlocking the front door and accidentally dropping his keys on the doorstep. You got up to stretch, feeling like you reeked of the air conditioner from your car. You met him at the door, his smile making you feel better. 

“Thought you were going to spend the night over there?” he told you, hanging his keys on the rack, kissing you as he walked to the kitchen. 

Jack refused to treat you like fragile porcelain, he knew you hated it just as much as he did when he got his leg amputated. So, he’d talk to you normally, avoiding talking about the subject unless you brought it up. Only thing he did refuse was sex, you needed to heal internally. He did give you massages every other night, you’d beg him to massage your clit only for him to try and the contraction of your vagina to cause pain in your pelvis. 

“We got in an argument” you confessed, trailing behind him, “Didn’t really end so well”.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked as he went into the fridge for his water jug. 

“She insinuated this happened because I focused on being a surgeon in my twenties- I passed my prime and knew the risks” you sighed. 

“What do you think?”.

“I think I was just careless, I was working long days, overtime and always on my feet- I was stressing myself out” you shrugged. 

“You weren’t careless Y/n” he said before taking a swig of water, “Hell do you not remember the amount of books we bought?” he chuckled, “We’ll- you’ll get through this”.

“We will” you clarified, “It takes two” you joked. It was the first time you had- if anything this is the most Jack’s gotten out of you in days. 

After a moment of comfortable silence, you gave him a hug, leading him to kiss the top of your head. “I’m sorry” you whispered.

“For?”.

“I’ve nudged you out of this” you sighed, “I don't even know how you feel”.

He looked into your eyes, “I feel like we should wait, let time run its course” he got closer to you, “When the time comes, it’ll come”. Jack had a staring problem, made you swoon, made others intimidated, “But for now we need to focus on you”. Those were the same eyes you fell in love with, the eyes you wish your children would have, “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”.

“I feel like I’ve rushed and forced this whole thing” you sighed, tears slightly welling up in your eyes, “Would we have gotten engaged if we didn’t almost break up over that argument?” you were spilling every thought and word, you knew him, you knew he wouldn’t get defensive over something you felt, “Better yet kids? Would that have even been a thought a couple months ago?”.

He sighed before squatting down so you can look down at him rather than up this entire time, it hurt the hell out of his back and put more pressure than he’d be comfortable with on his prosthetic. “I’ve wanted both of those things, before and during you” he took your knees in his hands, “It was hard to come to terms with it especially after already-“ he’s grip on your knees went tense, “It was always a ‘when and where’ with you. Before, dating, marriage, hell even hookups, kids, all were off the tables- not even a thought. I have to admit I’ve had my doubts, I’ve had vices and moments where I felt like I couldn’t be enough for you, couldn’t be enough to be there for you” he confessed, your hands found their way to his, “But I’m not me without you”.

“I’m not me without you either” you spoke up, “You’ve been more than enough help to me Jack” you slowly appreciated, “I need time. So much time that I can’t put a limit on” you spared breath, swallowing the shudder, “I love you, I don’t want this to break us”.

“Y/n, you could never drag me out of this, unless it was something you really wanted” he told you, “You’re it for me- for as long as you’ll have me”.

You returned to work that Monday, working day shifts, your engagement ring shining again the fluorescents. It turned down the rumors of the nurses, the silence as they saw you working was enough. The warmth of Pittsburgh cascading through the air, spring in full swing. 

By the middle of April, you decided to take a test, two weeks of sporadic and careful passion with your fiance. As the lines indicated a pregnancy, you immediately dropped everything that night, driving to PTMC as quickly as you could. You stole Jack away from his job, he was worried for you, thinking you were hurt, only for you to ask for a blood test. All indicative of pregnancy.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[rexhya]

What if the prince found out we were terminally ill and coughing blood and wasn’t suspected to live more then 6 months?

yandere!prince who doesn't initially notice the changes to your body. even he who watched you like a hawk couldn't detect the subtle differences from when he'd first seen your light sickness to when it was too late.

The trouble started up about a month ago, you'd contracted a cold from one of the other maids, that was nothing special. In fact, your other symptoms went away not long after but the hacking stayed persistent. You gone to see a general medic but he'd simply said it was a bad cough.

How wrong it was of you to trust him. "Are you still alright?" Anul asked, the two of you were in his room, his head resting on your lap as you ran cards through his hair.

"Yes I'm okay." Anul frowned, and flipped his body upwards so now he was facing you.

"You look pale, I should take you to Rosenwar. Rosenwar was the royal families personal doctor, she'd been serving the Royal Family for years, you had no place being tended to by someone of such importance.

"No, no that's quite alright, I've just been having allergies from the seasons changing that's all. There's no need for a doctor I'm quite alright." you patted Anul's hands as they cradled your face delicately. For a few moments he said nothing, simply stroking your cheek with his thumbs, his expression unreadable.

"Okay." he said, and his lips pressed to yours softly, it was the most innocent kiss you'd received from him in all the time you'd spent.

If only he knew it would be the last, he would have held It longer.

His coronation was only 3 weeks from now, days had passed without since that day in his bedroom and he was ready to be done with all the ceremonial and technical transfers from prince to king that kept him away from you.

Around 2pm in the afternoon, the hazy summer light falling into his bedroom, Anul found you on his bed, your back was turned and you were breathing so softly he almost didn't look at you, as to not wake you up.

But your sleeping face was never one he could resist. His heart fell into abysmal. Velvet red blood pooled at your mouth, it's why your breathing was so soft you were unconscious. He's frantic and scared at Rosenward examines you with her team of nurses, he's halfway into a heart attack when the doctor tells him you're most likely going to wake up today if not tomorrow.

He stays with you the entire time, abusing his power to keep the nurses on round the clock care for you, though your vitals never change and your heart never stops.

When you do finally open your eyes, Anul wants to scream at Rosenward, that wasn't today or tomorrow, it took a week for your body to recover from whatever horrible disease had gotten to it.

You look thin, Anul tries not to cry. "Sweetheart?" he asks tentatively, like speaking would somehow send you back into a week long coma only this time you'd never return.

"Water." you croak and the man brings you a glass within seconds.

Soon enough your body is examined, you contracted a rare disease from that maid, (one he's kept in mind to already kill). Mortuupulmonis only affected 1% of his kingdomes population, and worst of all, it had no cure.

He's wasted about two weeks of his coronation preparation time when he finds this out. The doctor estimated about a 6 months before he ran out of time. The coronation is post poned until then (his father is livid as usual) but Anul doesn't care not even in the slightest bit.

You get worse and worse everyday as Anul pours millions and millions of coin into finding a cure for you, he even goes international to make a statement and hopefully received something, anything but with not luck. He feels hopeless by month 3, your body is piratically crumbling at the seams and all he could do was watch. By month four he's broke, there was no more cures for him to spend, no more medicines to buy, there was nothing.

Nothing but you and your hosiptal bed srounned by things you loved.

"How you feeling today?" Anul whispers. "Mm." you haven't been much into talking these days.

He does his routine, clean your bedding, force feed you anything you'll take that day and check in with Rosenward on things you know didn't matter.

You were going to die, he knew it, you knew it, they both knew it.

On month six Anul doesn't renounce his coronation. Instead he stays by you side until the very end, even after youve took your last breath, Anul would probably stay with you until l your body rotted.

If only he knew. He would've kissed you harder.

[andvys]

the edges of your soul (i haven’t seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter nine

⭐︎ Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met

warnings: fluff, post apocalypse au, alcohol consumption, drinking game, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, mention of virginity, hurt/no comfort (i guess?), angst, sunshine x grumpy, jealousy jealousy jealousy

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: during a game of never have i ever you find out things you weren’t prepared for

word count: 9k+

authors note: i wrote this part in two days, that’s how excited i was to write it hehe. shoutout to @hellfire--cult as always 🤍 we came up with this chapter months ago and now it’s finally here! roe added the last bit aka THE PAINFUL ONE! I am so excited for the upcoming chapters hehe

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

The air is crisp. The wind is cold and harsher now than it was a few weeks ago. The first snow started falling about a week ago, making the journey a lot harder and slower, which isn’t in your favor at all. You want to go home sooner rather than later. You have already lost so much time, when you were alone and even now too. Your sickness slowed you down, slowed them down. 

You are much better now. The fever had gone down five days into your antibiotic treatment. Your cough is still there, not as strongly as it was before but it’s there. On top of that, you don’t perform as well as you used to before the sickness. You get tired quickly, your muscles get sore and you struggle to breathe. 

Nancy told you that it’s normal, that it might take a longer while for you to recover fully. Her brother Mike suffered for nearly two months after falling sick with pneumonia, carrying an inhaler with him at all times, just like you do too, now. 

It frustrates you a little, because now they all watch you like hawks to make sure that you are not moving around too much. You are not allowed to go on runs or scavenge areas, at least not until you’re healthy again. Steve is scavenging with Eddie now mostly, but today Nancy joined him instead, leaving you and Eddie to stand guard on the snowy parking lot. 

You don’t mind. You like spending time alone with Eddie, but you want to do something. Not being able to help is driving you crazy. 

You play with the hair tie around your wrist, the one that Steve left on you, the one you haven’t taken off yet because he told you to keep it when you tried to give it back. You didn’t question where he got it or whose it was. You have a hunch. 

“Fucking Nebraska.” Eddie murmurs as he leans against the side of the RV, looking up into the grey sky. 

“What’s wrong with Nebraska?” You ask, chuckling. 

Eddie shrugs at you, raising his axe, and he points all around at the snow. “That.” 

“Nebraska isn’t the only state that’s covered in snow right now, Eddie.” You smile in amusement. You rub your glove covered hands together as you turn your body towards him. 

He narrows his eyes at you, sighing loudly. 

“Yeah well, we should have been in uh… Wyoming, Idaho or freaking Utah by now but instead we’re stuck in this godforsaken state. I swear it’s only gonna bring us bad luck.” 

You furrow your eyebrows and giggle at him, shaking your head. 

“This state is really on your most hated list, huh?” 

Eddie scoffs as he turns to face you. His cheeks are red, his nose is too. His bottom lip is trembling from the cold. A few snowflakes adorn his curls. 

“Yup.” 

“Well… if it makes you feel any better… It took me a year to get to Indiana from New York,” you admit, shrugging. “Something always gets in the way. Just like now, if it isn’t the blocked roads then it’s the time we use for scavenging. If it isn’t that, then it’s the time we spend looking for gas… and if it isn’t that then… It's a sickness.” You sigh, looking down at your feet as you kick the snow on the ground. 

Eddie’s eyes soften. Sympathy flashes in them. You felt guilty for falling sick, for slowing them down, for being a ‘burden’ as you had called yourself. He felt a little angry for the way you talked about yourself, for the way you thought you had to apologize for not feeling well.  

A soft huff falls from his lips as he bumps his shoulder into yours. He reaches for your hand and gives it a tight squeeze. 

“Sweetheart, if you mention that one more time… I swear to Ozzy I will eat all your Kitkat’s.” 

Your dimples show when your lips curl into a smile. You shake your head at him, looking back into his eyes with a mean look on your face. You raise your hand up and point your finger at him. 

“Not my Kitkat’s.” You threaten, making him chuckle. 

Eddie grins at you. 

“Stop feeling guilty and I won’t steal your candy, Sweets. It’s simple.” He shrugs. 

You roll your eyes at him and he gasps at that, looking at you offended. He throws his hand to his chest and leans back. 

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Sunshine?” He asks shocked, using the nickname Steve calls you by. 

You shake your head at his act, giggling at his dramatics. You lean down and sink your hand into the snow, scooping some up into your hand. You move back up, smirking evilly at him before you throw it at his face. 

“You’re such a dork, Eddie Munson.” 

Another louder gasp falls from his lips when the coldness hits his skin and he stares at you bewildered. He brings his hand up to his face and wipes away the snow that is now stuck to his skin. 

You are slowly backing away, eyes glinting with amusement as you giggle loudly. 

“You did not just…” He glares at you, taking a step towards you. “You little witch.”

Your eyes widen when he leans down and scoops some snow onto his palm before he charges at you. A squeal falls from your lips as you turn around quickly, trying to run from him. 

“Oh, now you’re trying to run?” Eddie chuckles loudly behind you. “Don’t you wanna finish this little snowball fight?” 

“Nope!” You giggle loudly, hoping that Steve won’t come out of the store and catch you and Eddie running around like little kids. 

“Come here!” 

“Nuh uh!” 

You make the mistake of looking back at him, not controlling your steps like you should. Your foot catches onto ice under a layer of snow and you suddenly lose your balance, slipping on the ice with both feet. You try to steady yourself but to no avail, you are falling. Though you don’t feel the rough concrete underneath you like you were expecting. Instead you fall on something soft… well, softer than the concrete would have felt. 

“Oof…”

Only when you’re on the ground and you feel the arms around your waist and your head protected against a chest, do you realize that you didn’t fall on the ground because Eddie caught you and you landed on top of him instead while he took the fall for you both. 

“Ow…” He murmurs underneath you, grunting at the pain in his back. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble as the shock wears off and you quickly turn around to face him, not getting up just yet. Your eyes are wide and your face is serious, at least until you look at him and all the snow in his hair. 

You stare at each other in silence, breathing heavily. His lip twitches first and then yours follows suit. His eyes flash with amusement and before you know it, you both burst into laughter.

Tension falls off your shoulders. Tension you didn’t realize you even had. But this feels good, you can’t remember the last time you laughed. Especially like this, to the point of tears. 

“Goddamn, you’re a klutz,” Eddie laughs as he leans his head back into the snow, not caring anymore at this point. 

You shake your head, unable to stop the laughter that keeps falling from your lips. 

Eddie lets go of your waist and brings his hand up to your back, patting it softly. 

“Are you okay?” 

You bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the stray tear that escaped from your eyes. You nod at his question. 

“I had a safe fall,” you giggle before it gets cut off by a cough.

Eddie continues to pat your back. He presses his palm against the snowy ground and pushes himself up into a seating position, grunting a bit. You turn away from him and cough into your elbow, clenching your eyes shut. 

“Shit, Sweets.” He mumbles. “Do you need your inhaler?” 

You shake your head at him. Once you calm down, you press your hand against your chest and turn back to face him. Your eyes are a little glassy from all the coughing. 

Eddie’s eyes soften, he gives you a tight lipped smile as he pats your back one last time. 

“No laughing for you anymore, young lady.” He gives you a pointed look. 

You snort and roll your eyes. 

“Hey guys, we–” Steve halts in his tracks suddenly when he finds you on the ground with Eddie. His face falls and his eyes flash with confusion when he takes in the position you’re in – Eddie is sitting up on the ground while you are on top of him, in his lap. By the look on Eddie’s state, he knows you both must have slipped and fallen but how did you get to that point in the first place? And why is Eddie’s arm around your waist? 

He clenches his jaw without realizing it. The sourness inside of him spreads quickly, burning in his chest and taking over his whole body. He clenches his fists around the basket he is holding, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He stares at Eddie’s hand and how he places it on your hip. Eyes burning with anger. 

Steve doesn’t like this and he doesn’t even realize why. 

Your head snaps towards Steve and you frown at the look on his face. Before you even begin to question it, your eyes fall on the basket he is holding and curiosity gets the best of you. You carefully get off Eddie and place your feet back on the ground, accepting his hand that he offers to you. 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together strongly and the fire in him spreads further and up to his face, causing his cheeks to redden. 

You don’t notice but Eddie does, especially when he catches Steve watching how you help him up. How you remove the snow from his jacket and his cheek, making sure that he is clean again before you make your way towards him. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows in surprise, seeing the glare that is directed at him, the murderous gaze. If looks could kill, he would drop dead by now. If he didn’t consider Steve to be one of his best friends, he would have feared him right now. But Eddie only feels smugness and amusement. 

If jealousy had a name, it would be Steve Harrington. 

Eddie’s lip curls into a smirk, and he snickers under his breath. 

“This is too good,” he murmurs under his breath. He is gonna tease him. Oh yeah. He is gonna enjoy this one. 

“What’d you find?” You ask cheerfully as you make your way towards him, smiling brightly already. 

Steve looks away from Eddie and down at you. His eyes instantly soften when they meet yours. The sourness remains in his chest but something else spreads even quicker… warmth. 

You grab the edge of the basket with both hands and peek inside. Your smile falls and your eyes widen. A gasp of excitement falls from your lips when you catch sight of the knitted scarf. 

You look up at him, mustering up your best puppy eyes. 

“Can I have that one?” You plead. 

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the look on your face. Those eyes. He feels his knees falling weak every time you look at him like this. 

He swallows the growing lump in his throat and he nods. 

He almost wants to laugh at your question though. He spent fifteen minutes picking out a scarf for you. He didn’t want just any one. He grabbed the pink one at first before he caught sight of this one. He was unaware of Nancy’s smug face. 

“I picked it out for you.” He mumbles, lip curling upwards when your wide eyes meet his again. 

“You did!?” You nearly squeal as you grab it from the basket, jumping on your feet slightly as you wrap it around yourself. 

Steve’s eyes sparkle as he takes in the pure happiness on your features, all because of a pastel yellow colored scarf. 

“How’d you know this was my favorite color?” You ask, feeling the fluttering of your heart so strongly at this moment, especially when you look into his hazel eyes. 

Steve feels caught and he sinks into himself a little. Heat creeps up to his cheeks and he grows flustered… embarrassed. He clears his throat, shifting from one foot to another. 

He clears his throat, wanting to punch Eddie now more than ever as he catches sight of the smug bastard in the back. 

“I honestly didn’t know… I– I just… remembered you said you had a sunflower field behind your house, so I thought…” he trails off and looks back down into your eyes. They are sparkling for him. Your smile is wider than it was in weeks. You’re happy. “Good to know, though…”

Your heart skips a beat, and your stomach flutters wildly. He remembered your sunflower field? You told him that in the very beginning, when he didn’t even talk back much, when you just rambled his ear off. You didn’t even think he listened to you, let alone remember what you talked about to him. 

“Thank you so much, Stevie!” You smile widely as you take a step closer to him. You rise to your tippy toes and grab onto his shoulder as you press your lips to his cheek, pecking it softly. 

Steve freezes. He tenses up. Not because he didn’t like it but because he did. He liked it. He liked the feeling of your lips on his skin. A little too much. 

You pull away and brush past him when you notice Nancy coming out of the store, carrying two bags. You leave him standing with glowing cheeks. 

The need to escape takes over and despite feeling like his feet are glued to the ground, he forces himself to make his way towards the RV, ignoring the racing in his chest. 

He walks past Eddie but not without sending a glare towards him. He reaches into the basket, and picks out the grey beanie, throwing it at the metalhead without a single word. 

Eddie catches it before it hits him in the face. A loud snicker falls from his mouth when he realizes why Steve is so salty and why his cheeks are like the color of a ripe tomato. He follows him. Of course he does. Eddie sees the perfect opportunity. 

“Thanks for that, man.” Eddie holds up the beanie. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Steve grumbles under his breath. He throws the door open to the RV and steps inside. Dropping the basket on the table, he starts taking out the cans of food he found and starts stacking them up in the cabinets. 

Eddie leans against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“What were you two doing out there?” Steve asks after two minutes of silence. 

“Had a little snowball fight.” That is an exaggeration, and he knows it, but he wants to see Steve’s reaction. “And then we fell.” 

Eddie can’t see his face. Steve’s back is turned to him as he fills up the cabinets. Though he can see how he tenses up and falters a little. 

“Right…” Steve scoffs. “She fell on your lap?” 

There it is. Eddie is surprised; that was quick. 

He doesn’t bother hiding his snickering. He pushes himself off the wall and moves up beside him, tilting his head at the former jock. He smiles smugly when he sees the clenched jaw. 

“Is that jealousy, Big Boy?” 

Steve narrows his eyes at him. He grips the edges of the counter and slowly turns to face him. 

“I’m just…–”

“You’re just what, Steve? Jealous?” Eddie cackles, enjoying this far more than he should. He raises his hand up and places it on Steve’s chest, patting it roughly. “Don’t worry, man. She is all yours, I promise.” 

Steve huffs and he shakes his head, opening his mouth to speak. 

“Yellow is her favorite color huh? I didn’t know that. You didn’t either, she didn’t even tell you–”

“Stop.” Steve sighs. He brings his hand up to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. The tension in his shoulders rises when he realizes the weight of Eddie’s words. Deep down he knows he is right, he knows it. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it. He doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to admit it. He fears it. He can’t have those feelings. He can’t allow himself to care more than he does right now. He knows where this will end – how it almost ended a few weeks ago. If he allows these feelings, if he lets them out only for something to happen… he will never recover. 

The smug look on Eddie’s face falls when he realizes the seriousness of this situation as he reads the look on his face. 

Steve is holding back. He is holding back out of fear, not realizing that this could potentially make everything so much worse. 

“Steve…” Eddie sighs as his hand moves to grip his shoulder. “I know what you’re trying to do here–”

“Don’t.” Steve warns him. Like he doesn’t want to hear it, like he doesn’t want to even consider his words. “Just don’t, Munson.” 

He couldn’t even finish the sentence. He couldn’t even utter a single word and it frustrated him a little but he also understands it. 

“Fine…” Eddie sighs, and he lets his hand fall back to his side. 

Steve takes a deep breath. He runs his fingers through the mess of his head. His hair got so long in the past few months. The past self of him would be mortified at the sight of him now. 

Steve glances at Eddie. He can’t stand the sympathetic look in his dark eyes. He doesn’t want to be pitied. 

“You know what you need–”

Steve rolls his eyes and he pulls back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I said don’t–”

“Hear me out, will you?” Eddie mumbles in annoyance. He rolls his eyes back at him and turns around, opening the cabinet where you have put all the special things. He reaches for the bottle. A grin spreads on his face before he turns around. He holds it up with a wiggle of his brows. 

Steve shakes his head, “nope.”

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nods and by the look of his determined face, Steve knows he will lose this argument. “You gotta let loose a little. Swallow those feelings down with a little help of my former best friend.” Eddie grins at the whiskey bottle. 

Steve sighs. 

“We’ll play a little drinking game… and who knows, maybe we’ll find out some dirty truths from your girl's past.” Eddie cackles. 

“She’s not my–”

The door bursts open and you come rushing in, carrying one of the bags you grabbed off Nancy’s shoulder. You halt in your tracks and look between them. The frustrated gaze in Steve’s eyes and the excited one in Eddie’s tells you everything you need to know. 

Nancy comes stumbling in behind you. 

Eddie turns towards you, smirking at the two of you as he holds up the whiskey bottle. 

“Wanna play a game?” 

-

The fire keeps you brittle warm, allowing your cheeks to burn a little. The cold doesn’t even touch you right now, you’re so close to the heat. The bowl of soup is warm in your hands. You keep glancing towards Steve as you watch him eat. 

Eddie is rambling his ear off about DnD, something Steve couldn’t care less about. He keeps humming and grumbling in response. 

Nancy had already finished her dinner. She is rubbing her hands over the fire, warming herself up. 

You found a little hidden spot, behind trees and ruins, allowing you to let the flames burn higher than usual. Allowing you to feel a little more comfortable. You did a perimeter check with Steve before dinner, and he demanded to do it slowly for you, and this area seemed pretty safe and clean. 

“So… how about some good ‘ol never have I ever?” Eddie smirks as he picks up the bottle of whiskey he carried outside before. 

Your eyes light up. The urge to let loose, even if just for one night, for a few hours is so big. You nod at him, putting your now empty bowl on the ground beside your feet. 

“Yes, please!” 

Nancy chuckles at the enthusiastic smile on your face. Eddie’s eyes lock with hers and she shrugs at him, mumbling “sure.” 

Eddie grins at her, knowing she wouldn’t have given in so easily in the past. She sure has changed. 

He looks at Steve last to find him staring at you. Eddie knows that he is curious, it’s in his eyes. 

“I’m not drinking—“

“Oh come on!” Eddie groans, throwing his head back.

“If I am willing to drink then you gotta do it too, Steve!” Nancy says, shrugging at him. 

“Someone’s gotta stay sober.”

“Not like we’re gonna get blackout drunk, man. Besides the area is safe—“

Steve sighs, shaking his head. “You can never know.”

“Steve…” You sigh, pulling the attention on you. You tilt your head to the side, pouting at him. “Please…”

Steve huffs softly. 

Your features, your skin, your hair look so soft in this light. The golden flames make you look even more beautiful. Something flutters in his chest when you bat your eyelashes at him. 

He breathes in shakily, and by the way Eddie snickered beside him, he knows he heard it. 

Steve clears his throat as he shakes his head. 

“You’re not drinking either, Sunshine. You’re still coming down from your sickness and you’re still on pain meds.” He says sternly. 

Now your frown and your pout deepens. Your stomach sinks a little and the excitement wears off instantly. 

“Oh… right.” You whisper. 

Steve watches the way your face falls and your shoulders slump. A saddening look flashes in your features. He is surprised to see you giving up so easily, he expected you to put up a bit of a fight. 

“Shit,” Eddie murmurs. He didn't think about it either. 

You sigh deeply. You look between all of them and straighten your back again. 

“You can still play!” 

Steve can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt bubbling up inside of him. He saw how excited you were when Eddie suggested the game. 

“Hold on,” Steve mumbles as he pushes himself up from his seat. He disappears into the RV, making you all frown in confusion. You hear some rustling, some cans moving around before he comes out again, holding a can of Dr. Pepper in his hand. He makes his way to you, lips curling into a small smile. He holds it out for you. “I know it’s not the same but… you– we can still play.” 

You stare at the red soda can in his hand. Your soft eyes light up as you look up at him. 

His throat bobs when he swallows nervously. His heart skips yet another beat as he looks down into your eyes. 

Steve couldn’t care less about the game. If it wasn’t for you, he would call it a day and go to sleep. 

“Yeah,” he whispers softly. 

You are both unaware of the eye contact Nancy and Eddie are holding. To the looks on their faces and of the mischief crossing Eddie’s face as he grabs the plastic cups he had already prepared before. He unscrews the lid and pours the whiskey. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as you take the soda from Steve’s hands. Blush rises to your cheeks and your hand warms even more when your fingers brush against his own. 

Steve only smiles at you before he makes his way back to his seat. He curls his fingers into his hand, clenching it tightly as he still feels the mark of your touch. A sigh leaves his mouth when he sinks back into his camping chair. 

Eddie holds the cup out to him, and Steve only accepts it reluctantly. 

“Don’t think too much,” Eddie says to him. “It’s gonna be good for you, trust me.” 

“If you say so.” Steve snorts as he accepts the cup. He can’t remember the last time he even smelled alcohol. 

A pop sounds through the circle as you open the can. You bring your knees up to your chest and tug the blanket tighter around you, getting comfortable as giddiness rushes through your body. This reminds you of high school… only this is even better. You’re around friends. 

Eddie puts the bottle back down after handing Nancy her cup. He leans back and looks around the circle, smirking at Steve – the latter already knowing that this means nothing good. 

“So…” Eddie starts, wiggling his eyebrows. “Who’s starting?”

Steve sinks deeper into his seat, he looks down at his drink, sloshing it around in the cup. 

“Never have I ever played DnD.” Nancy says, making both you and Steve chuckle. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows at her, tilting his head as he brings the cup up to his lips. 

“You’re doing me a favor here, Wheeler.” 

Before he can even down the drink like he had planned to do, Steve leans forward and grabs Eddie’s wrist, “hold on. You ain’t downing that drink. We’re not in high school going home safe after. Doesn’t matter how safe this area seems to you, we’re still in the middle of nowhere… during the goddamn end of the world. We’re taking sips, not shots.” 

Steve’s face is stern as he lectures Eddie, who looks like a kid getting scolded by his father. 

You can’t help but giggle. 

“Okay, dad.” Eddie mumbles with wide eyes. “Sips, not shots, got it.” 

Nancy laughs at their interaction. 

Eddie takes a sip, keeping his eyes on Steve, who watches him closely, warning him with his eyes. 

“See.” Eddie shows him the cup. “I just took a sip.” 

“Good.” Steve grumbles before he leans back into his seat. 

Eddie turns back to Nancy, grinning evilly. “Alright Wheeler. Never have I ever… gotten straight A’s in high school.” 

A groan falls from her lips, she rolls her eyes at his lame attempt at making her drink. She brings the cup up to her lips and takes a sip. 

Steve glances at you, expecting you to take a sip as well but you don’t. Your can remains propped up on your knees. 

“No A’s?” Eddie raises his brows at you. “I’m surprised.” 

You shrug. “The best I got were B’s.” 

“Something I could only ever dream of.”

Nancy rolls her eyes at him again, “you were just lazy, Eddie.” 

“Are you saying I’m smart, Nancy Wheeler?” He smirks at her. 

“I’m saying you could have been better, dumbass.” 

Eddie waves her off and looks between you and Steve, “who’s next?”

Steve shrugs and gestures to you, holding his cup. 

You blush a little when he flashes you a smile. You tug your blanket tighter to you and look back into the fire. 

“Um… never have I ever…” You pause, trying to think of something you have always wanted to do. “Gone on a picnic date…?”

Eddie sits still, not bringing the cup up to his lips. Steve is not drinking either. The three of you glance at each other before you all look towards Nancy, who is the only one to take a sip of the whiskey. She scrunches up her face at the bitter taste. 

A sullen look takes over her face and if you didn’t look close enough, you would have missed the way her eyes flashed with sadness before she took that sip. She breathes in sharply and clears her throat before she plasters a smile onto her face as she looks back to you. 

“You have never gone on a picnic date?” 

Steve glances at you too with curious eyes. 

You shake your head. You always wanted to go but no one ever asked you out. Your ex-boyfriend always told you that he wasn’t a fan of date nights – must have been because he was too busy taking other girls out. 

Steve’s chest pains a little at the saddened look on your face. 

“No, but anyways… It’s your turn, Steve!” 

Steve blinks as he stares at you, your eyes now gazing into his. His cheeks flush under the weight of your eyes. He shifts on his chair. 

“Uh…” He can’t focus when you look at him, especially with that little tilt in your head and the innocent eyes. He looks down, at the crackling wood and the golden flames. His heart skipping a little harder. This is ridiculous. “Never have I ever uh…” 

What stupid thing would Robin say? 

What silly line would escape her mouth? 

“Been arrested…?”

Eddie chuckles loudly beside him. “See for someone who doesn’t want me to get drunk, you sure are doing a bad job, Harrington.” He laughs before he takes a big sip of his whiskey. 

You gasp and lean forward, “how, when, where, why?” You ramble. 

Steve’s shoulders shake when laughter escapes him at the look on your face. The wide eyes and the dropped jaw. 

“Oh, Sweetheart…” Eddie trails off. “I got arrested several times.”

“For what!?” 

“For being an idiot!” Nancy chuckles. She witnessed it herself once, Hopper running after a handcuffed Eddie who somehow managed to escape before he was forced into the cop car. 

“Then Jonathan must’ve been an idiot too!” Eddie scoffs. “Didn’t you get arrested with him!?” 

She shakes her head at him, “nope. I just went to the station with him.” 

You don’t notice the way Steve looks away, awkwardly and tense at the current conversation. 

“Why are you all getting arrested!?” You ask, confused. 

Nancy shrugs at you. 

You glance at Steve and raise your eyebrows at him, “did you get arrested too?” 

He purses his lips and shakes his head, “nope. Always managed to get away before the cops were at the crime scene.” He jokes. 

You roll your eyes at him but chuckle softly. 

“So I’m friends with a bunch of criminals, is that it?” You joke.

“Oh yeah.” Eddie nods his head, making his curls bounce. “Bet you’re the worst of us all though.” He points his finger at you. 

You press your palm against your chest, humming. “Cold blooded killer, you said it before.” You joke, looking at him seriously. 

“Exactly.” 

The game continues and the lines get sillier as Eddie keeps refilling the cups with Whiskey. You notice how the tension in Steve’s shoulders disappears after a few bigger sips of the liquor, how the redness in his cheeks glows stronger beneath the orange hues of the campfire. Your heart flutters every time his eyes flash with amusement, with happiness. Every time his laughter echoes, you feel something in you heating up in a way it never has before. 

For a moment, the world out there is gone. It’s just the four of you, being normal people. You aren’t out here trying to survive. You aren’t out here surrounded by death. You aren’t out here barely pushing through this world. Right now, you can be a group of friends having fun… just that. And you enjoy it so much. You have never felt more welcomed than you do with them. 

Nancy’s eyes shine with tears of laughter as Eddie continues his story of the girl who threw up on his shoes when he tried flirting with her. His goal was to ask her out on a date, not realizing that she was fully drunk until it was too late. 

“God… why do you always have the lamest dating stories, Munson?” Steve laughs, blinking away his own tears. 

“That poor girl! She must have been so embarrassed!” You mumble, trying not to giggle as much. 

“Sweetheart, I threw up right after. We were both embarrassed.” 

You break into laughter again, though your face cringes in disgust at the image of it in your head. 

“Did you ever see her again, after?” Steve asks, his lips twitching as he tries to stop laughing. 

“Yeah, in the school hallway. It was awkward as hell.” Eddie admits with wide eyes. 

“God…” Nancy mumbles, amused. She leans back and tilts her head up, looking up into the sky with a lazy smile on her lips. 

“Yeah…” Eddie chuckles to himself as he looks into the fire. His finger traces the rim of his cup. 

For a moment, silence takes over. Only the crackling of the wood is heard around you. You watch the flames too, contentment filling you. 

You don’t notice his eyes on you or the way they scan your face, the way they look at you. You don’t realize that he is smiling or that his eyes are sparkling. If only you looked up. 

“Never have I ever had sex.” Eddie snorts, knowing he will make everyone drink this time. 

“Of course,” Nancy snorts and straightens up in her seat again, bringing the cup to her lip, she finishes the remains of her whiskey. 

Steve rolls his eyes as he follows suit, finishing the last bit of his drink. He turns to face you and a frown appears on his face. 

Eddie notices the look on his face when he has taken the biggest gulp of the night. 

You avoid their eyes, blushing furiously as you continue to stare into the fire. Your shoulders, your whole body is tense. Embarrassment is written all over your face. You sit still. The soda can frozen in your lap. You haven’t taken a single sip and you don’t plan on taking one as your fingers play with the loose string on your blanket. 

Steve’s eyes widen when the realization hits him. 

Oh. 

Nancy’s lips part in surprise, her eyes soften when she sees just how flustered you are. 

Eddie is the last to realize but when he does, he nearly chokes on the whiskey. He gulps down and coughs a little. Bringing his hand up to his chest as his wide eyes search for yours. 

“You… You’re a virgin, Sweetheart?” He gasps, knowing he should be approaching the topic a little more gently but he is too shocked, too intoxicated to let that rational voice in his head tell him what to do. 

Eddie is flabbergasted. 

And Steve… Steve’s eyes are filled with confusion and disbelief. His heart is pounding in his chest. How?  

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry but… how?”

Eddie asks the question that repeats itself in Steve’s mind. 

You bite your lip and look at him, avoiding Steve’s eyes. You feel too embarrassed. 

“You’re not fucking with us, are you?” Eddie squints his eyes, finding it hard to believe. 

“Nope.” 

“But… You said you had a boyfriend!” Those words come tumbling out of Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie’s and Nancy’s heads snap towards him. This is something they didn’t know about you. 

You roll your eyes and huff, “just because I had a boyfriend doesn’t mean that I slept with him. Besides… that was the exact reason why he told me I was immature… the exact reason why he cheated on me.” You mumble, looking down. 

Steve’s eyes harden at that. His chest burns with rage over that prick that was given the chance to date you only to fuck you over. 

Nancy leans forward, her protectiveness kicking in, shooting off the roof. 

“He cheated on you because you weren’t ready to sleep with him?” She scoffs, slurring her words a bit. Her blue eyes burn with anger for someone she doesn’t even know. “What– Men! Men fucking suck!” 

You smile a little. 

Eddie moves closer and pats Nancy’s back. 

“Hey, not all of us are bad,” Eddie chuckles. 

Steve looks down at his cup. His heart aches at the thought of how you felt back then. He knows your heart was crushed and you were devastated. You don’t have to tell him that for him to know. 

“I hope he died. Gruesomely. Fucked in the ass by an infected–”

You crack up at her words. The tension slips away as amusement takes over and you and Eddie start laughing loudly at her. 

Steve leans forward, he puts the empty cup down and presses his palms together, entwining his fingers. He glances at you, his eyes tracing your features while you are distracted. 

“So uh… nothing?” Eddie asks after your laughter dies down. His curiosity gets the best of him. His eyes keep glancing towards Steve to catch his reactions. 

You shake your head shyly. 

Nancy eyes you, wanting to make sure that you are comfortable talking about this. 

“No… It’s not like I don’t have the need…” You admit, surprising yourself even. But you feel safe talking about this, comfortable. Like you won’t get judged. “I mean– I had my own you know…”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, playing coy, playing dumb. 

Steve straightens up a bit, nerves growing wild inside of him as he stares at you. 

Eddie bows his head a little. “No? I know what?”

You avoid Steve’s eyes still. Heat rises to your cheeks, not from the fire but from the embarrassment inside of you. From talking about this in front of the guy you… you like. 

You blink. Tapping your fingers against your knee. 

“A helper…?”

Eddie almost bursts into laughter. He enjoys seeing you like this. He enjoys the way Steve is cracking his knuckles beside him, shifting on his chair. 

Nancy licks her lips, holding back her smile when she realizes what he is doing, when she realizes how red Steve’s cheeks are. 

Frustration bubbles up inside of you when you notice the mischief flashing in Eddie’s brown eyes. 

“For fucks sake! A vibrator! A fucking vibrator!” 

Nancy giggles loudly beside you. She is definitely gonna bring that up later. 

Steve nearly falls over. His heart almost beats out of his chest. His eyes are glued on you. Heat spreads across his whole body and before he can even stop it, images start cursing through his mind. Images of you… of you on your bed, of your hands on your body, on your bare body that he had seen already. The realization strikes that he was the first to see you like this, to touch your soft skin, to hold you. 

Suddenly his heart does more than just flutter. 

Eddie smirks at you. His shoulders shake. 

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure it was that.” 

You roll your eyes at him. 

“You fucking dick!”

Nancy and he chuckle at you, sharing amused glances. 

“Now…” You start after a moment of silence. “I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, and I regret not giving my virginity to my ex…” You admit a little shamefully. 

The three of them look at you in question. 

“Why do you say it won’t?” Steve asks. 

You chuckle softly and shrug as you look up at Steve, “look around us, Steve. It’s the end of the world… I could die tomorrow and I think it’s obvious to say that the chances of finding someone in the apocalypse are pretty scarce.” 

They all fall silent, looking at you with pity – something that you don’t want, something that you hate. 

But they notice that you are actually afflicted by it. 

Eddie narrows his eyes, shifting in his seat. He looks at Steve, noticing the way he watches you intently. A sliver of yearning in his hazel eyes. 

If he doesn’t take the chance… 

Eddie clears his throat. Licking his lips, he looks back at you. 

“Listen, if I didn’t have my sweetheart, I’d offer to make your first time the best night of your life,” he says cockily. A smirk tugging at his lips when he feels Steve’s angry eyes on him. 

You don’t even pay much attention to his comment. You nearly give yourself a whiplash by how fast you turn towards him. 

“You have a sweetheart!? Wait! Are you talking about your guitar? You showed me pictures of it and–”

“Of course not my guitar!” Eddie interrupts you, grinning. “I have my love waiting for me in California!”

Your eyes lighten up and you sit up straighter, curious to hear about his love story. 

But Steve and Nancy roll their eyes and groan. 

“Don’t listen to him, he never wanted to tell us… so obviously he is bluffing.” Nancy murmurs. “If he had a sweetheart we would have known about her or him!” 

Eddie scoffs, though the smile on his face doesn’t disappear, instead it grows even wider. 

“Honestly Nancy… If I were really single, I would have tried my luck with this young lady I have in front of me the moment I saw her. She’s funny and sweet and she’s hot as hell. Who wouldn’t try to make a move on that piece of ass?” 

Your eyes widen, and you instantly grow flustered, cheeks burning like crazy. 

The bitter taste on Steve’s tongue returns and he can’t even hide his frown this time when he looks at the metalhead beside him, only to realize that he fell right into his trap. Eddie is already looking back at him with a smug smirk on his face. 

Nancy is watching you, how you flush all over while you sip your soda. She holds back her smile, thinking that it’s cute. 

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I see you as nothing more than a friend.” He makes the message very clear… to Steve. 

Yet, it does little to calm him down. The same sour feeling as he felt before spreads through his chest. 

Silence fills the space around you for a moment and the air suddenly shifts. You don’t know what it is yet. You don’t notice the look on Nancy’s face and how the amusement slowly fades as the alcohol kicks in differently, affecting other kinds of emotions now. 

“Well.” Eddie looks around, clapping his hands together. “Anyone else got a confession to make?”

Steve shakes his head just like you. 

Nancy hesitates. A sullen look suddenly takes over, crossing over her features out of nowhere. She blinks rapidly as she stares into the fire, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“I love Robin.” 

You slowly look towards her, unlike Eddie who snaps his head into her direction, looking at her in surprise. 

But Steve, he already knew, well– he suspected it. He knew about Robin’s feelings. He knew that she fell in love with Nancy. He remembers how guilty she looked when she confessed to him, fearing that he would hate her for falling in love with his ex-girlfriend. He remembers how scared she was, how she looked at him, like she thought that she was about to lose her best friend. He hugged her then and promised that it was okay. His love for Nancy was in the past and it was never real love to begin with, nothing to mourn over. Puppy love. And the thing that happened back in ‘86 was nothing more than a moment of desperation to feel the only real thing he once thought he had. 

Eddie’s smile slowly fades, lips curling downwards as he stares at Nancy’s glossy eyes. She is his best friend but it’s something he didn’t know. It’s something she wasn’t ready to confess. To speak into the universe. To let out. 

“She… She confessed to me. She told me that she loves me… that she’s in love with me. And then she died…on the same day.” She whispers and bows her head to hide the tears that are about to slip down her cheeks. 

Steve breathes in shakily, he looks away and closes his eyes. 

“I never said it back.”

Your heart breaks for her. She kept it all to herself for such a long time, it must have been eating away at her. Her sniffles pains you even more. You lean forward and place your hand on her knee. 

“Shit…” Eddie whispers, staring at her with sad eyes as the realization slowly sinks in. “I didn’t know, Nance.”

“Yeah…” She whispers, not looking up just yet. “And now… I can never say it back.”

You don’t know what to say. Eddie doesn’t either. You’re both not even sure if words are what she needs or if she just needs to let this all out. 

“I-I honestly never made a move on her before that because I thought she hated me…” She confesses, talking without a filter now. Her emotions take control, guided by the alcohol in her system. 

You frown at her words, gripping her knee tighter as you try to see her face but it’s covered by her long hair. 

“Why would she hate you, Nancy?” 

Eddie looks between you both, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Because of what I did to Steve.” She whispers, slowly looking up at you. 

Anxiety builds up inside of you and you begin to feel nervous. 

“W-What did you do to Steve?”

Steve snaps his head towards the two of you, shaking his head with a panicked look on his face. “Nancy–”

“I cheated on him. Hurt him. I thought Robin would hardly forgive someone like that. That Robin wouldn’t even like someone that did that to her best friend… Even if that happened a long time ago…”

Steve closes his eyes with a sigh, murmuring a quiet ‘fuck’.

Eddie winces under his breath. 

You draw back instantly, your hand falling off her knee. You take in a sharp breath. The realization rushing through you coldly. You grip the soda can tighter and look down. 

Nancy was the girl he told you about. 

She was the one who hurt him, who broke his heart. 

All this time you have been traveling with them and you didn’t even know. 

You feel like a fool. 

And it’s sadness and insecurity that hits you the hardest. She was the girl. And you are nothing like her, not even in the slightest. 

Steve looks up at you slowly. He tries to catch a glimpse of your face but it’s tilted so far down.

You don’t know what to feel, what to think. 

How can he be around her? You’d never be able to travel with your ex-boyfriend who cheated on you, lied to you, acted like he loved you. You could never be around him, let alone be his friend… unless you still loved him. 

Suddenly it’s nausea that bubbles up. Your heart sinks to your stomach. And now you wonder, would you have known sooner if you just put two and two together? If you would have taken a closer look? 

“I never knew.” Eddie murmurs, patting her back. 

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” Nancy whispers. “A-And that’s all… that’s all I got to confess. What about you…? Do you have anything…?”

You suddenly feel suffocated and you no longer want to sit here in this circle. It’s all become too much and all these questions running through your head begin to drive you crazy. You want to be alone. You need to think. 

You clear your throat as you get up, picking up your discarded bowl from before and your empty soda can. You take a quick look around and force a smile on your face when Nancy looks up at you with her big eyes. 

“I’m gonna go to sleep. I’m tired and my head is starting to hurt again.” You lie. You avoid both Steve’s and Eddie’s eyes. 

“Oh.” Nancy mumbles, her shoulders slumping. 

“Good night.” You whisper before you brush past Steve, ignoring the way he looks up at you in concern. You quickly make your way into the RV and shut the door behind you before any of them can question you. 

You set everything down on the kitchen counter. Gripping the edges of it, you lean against it and close your eyes, sighing loudly. 

You are confused and shocked, not understanding how it all went over your head for months. You could have known sooner. You should have. You wish you did. 

A part of you wants to know more, the other part doesn’t. 

You clean up your bowl and put everything away before you make your way into the tiny bathroom to brush your teeth. You hurry, wanting to be asleep before anyone comes in to check on you. 

Not even the mint flavor of your toothpaste can get rid of the bitter taste on your tongue though. 

“Sunshine?” 

You almost groan in annoyance. Almost. You would have if it wasn’t him. You spit out the paste and rinse your mouth before you walk out. You plaster a smile on your face when you notice him standing by the kitchen counter. 

He offers you a smile, “I uh… are you okay? Do you need anything?” 

Your eyes soften. You press your lips together and shake your head, “no, I just… I wanna get some sleep.” 

He brings his hand up to the back of his neck as he nods, “alright…”

You don’t move and neither does he. 

Steve is so selfless. He’s so kind and sweet when he allows himself to be. He would do anything for his friends, showing you that he would do absolutely everything for the one he loves. There is not a single bad thing about him. So… how could she do this to him? 

“I’m–”

“So Nancy…” 

Steve can’t read the expression on your face nor can he figure out the emotion in your voice but if he didn’t know any better, he would think it is hurt… sadness. But why? 

“Yeah…” Steve whispers. 

He doesn’t know why he feels the urge to show you, to tell you that he doesn’t feel anything for Nancy, that he hasn’t felt anything for her in years, that he could never again. 

You swallow harshly and nod. You take a seat on the bench and he follows you after a second, sitting down beside you. 

“Do you…” You pause, not knowing if you’re actually ready to find out. 

“I don’t love her anymore if that’s what you think.” Steve confesses, wanting – needing you to know. 

He wishes he could ignore the way your shoulders slump in relief or the way your eyes fill with something that looks like hope. 

“No?”

He shakes his head, “no. It was uh… It was puppy love but not real love, if it makes sense?” 

“Oh.”

Steve takes a deep breath. He continues to look into your eyes, wanting to catch each and every one of your reactions. 

“It was the first time someone else… cared for me. That someone seemed to like me for me and not because I was this popular guy… I only knew loneliness thanks to my parents being complete assholes.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as though you’re in pain. The sympathy and the sadness the flashes in your eyes reminds him of Robin. 

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, swallowing the lump that grew in his throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You frown, knowing how that ended for him. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine.” He shrugs, his whisper is soft. 

How could she look into his hazel eyes and not fall for him harder every day? How could she look at him and think that he wasn’t good enough? That there could be someone better out there? How could she look at him and not think that he was the best thing that’s ever happened to her? 

There is little distance between you and your hand finds his before you can even think rationally. 

Steve looks down at it. It’s not the first time he feels your touch like this. It’s also not the first time he feels that electric feeling cursing through him. 

“But then… Robin came.”

“Wait then… you for Robin–”

“God, no, no…” Steve shakes his head, interrupting you quickly. “She just… She just filled that loneliness, and it made me realize that I was just chasing Nancy… pretending to be in love… Just to noy feel alone again…” He explains, cringing a little. “And then, Robin kind of started dating this girl, and I felt that bit of bitterness inside of me cause she was spending a little less time with me.” 

You nod in understanding as he keeps talking. 

“I tried dating around as well… But nothing worked out, no one wanted me for anything other than sex.” 

You frown at his words, feeling anger and a sliver of jealousy burning in you. 

“So I kind of… set my eyes back on Nancy again, not because I still loved her but… She was just the closest thing I had to a ‘real’ relationship. It was dumb to chase her again, to go after someone who hurt me. It took me a moment to realize that there are other versions of love that can be fulfilling.” 

“Robin.” 

He gives you a small smile, tapping your hand with his finger. He eyes the lilac hair tie around your wrist. It’s yours now. For safekeeping. 

“Robin.” He nods. 

He stopped seeking her out when he let go of a love he thought was… love. Maybe it should calm you down a little but it doesn’t. 

“And now… that Robin is… gone?”

He knows what you’re asking. 

You want to know if he will do it again, if he will chase after her again. 

Steve shakes his head, humming. “I would never make that mistake again,” he chuckles, cringing at his younger self. “Besides, I don’t feel lonely.”

“Oh… Eddie and Nance?” You ask. 

You secretly hope that you are the reason for that he doesn’t feel lonely anymore. 

“No, I felt lonely with them too. I was… grumpy, remember?” He asks, cocking his eyebrow as his eyes flash with amusement. 

You shake your head, “then what–”

“You came.” He confesses. 

And it makes your heart flutter like crazy. Your eyes fill with so much hope. You straighten up and curl your hand around his as you gaze into his hazel eyes. 

“You are… as stubborn as Robin was.” He whispers. “You remind me of her.” 

Oh… 

And then it hits you. 

It hits you harder than anything else ever has before. 

He never liked you for you. 

He gave you a chance because you reminded him of the one person that meant everything to him. He gave you a chance because he saw her in you, because he could pretend. 

You were never to him what he is to you. 

You are a replacement. A placeholder. 

And here you thought you found someone who likes you for you. 

But of course not. 

How did you never see it? Every time he talked about Robin, every time that he mentioned a memory, and– His eyes, they are looking at your wrist. At the hair tie, and– It was him… he put that on you, and now you knew. This wasn’t just anyone’s hair tie… this was Robin’s.

Your hand slowly slips away from his, looking down at the floor. You caught feelings only to find out that he saw you as a replacement for his soulmate. For someone he thought of as family, as a sister. He sees you that way, he will always see you that way and not as a woman. Not as someone who can try to give the love he wants and needs. 

Because you are like Robin… and you are the opposite of Nancy.

You’ll never be like Nancy. She looks like… a woman, a strong woman that knows what she wants, that is experienced, that is mature, that knows how to handle most of the situations with a clear mind and you– You are reckless, a klutz like Eddie had called you, and you also were–

“You want a kitkat before bed, Sunshine?”

Immature.

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx

[antinitoniny]

anton as your affectionate bf: headcanons

this is so long help + it’s organized in sections 😁😁

💭 anton x fem!reader

💭 texts in pink: oc, texts in blue: anton

💭 fluff fluff fluff (and crack)

physical touch

- anton might be the humanized version of ‘physical touch.’

- hand always on ur back or around ur hips

- top of the head kisses

- fixing ur necklace or hair while you’re talking

- as long as you’re in the same room, anton can’t last a minute without physical contact.

- anton’s hand will always be on ur hip or around ur waist.

- he’s backhugging u like 30% of the day

- morning kisses. barely awake kisses.

- tracing anton’s nose while he’s sleeping (he’s actually awake so he’s giggling w his eyes closed)

- “TON I LOVE U BUT IT’S SO HOT. STOP HUGGING ME” “are we breaking up”

- waking up w his leg on you, his face nuzzled on ur neck, and his hand placed light on ur head — it’s a heavy morning.

- “can i bite you?” */stares at anton for 5mins* “is that a yes”

- imagine being against pda while dating a guy who'd tear up if you sit on the other side of the table at dinner? yea, anton.

- fav kissing spot: anton’s nose

- his fav kissing spot: */his nose bled while trying to answer the question

- you guys would last for 5hrs on the couch in silence as long as anton’s wrapped around you

down bad anton

- when he’s talking about his day but you’re rlly focused on what he’s saying so he got flustered all of a sudden “stop staring at me, you’re making me nervous” — “YOU’RE telling a story, where else am i supposed to look at?”

- suddenly smiling from ear to ear during breakfast because “1 year ago, i just thought you’re really nice to me and now i’m eating breakfast with you in our shared apartment” */insert anton giggles (and grumpy you ‘coz u js woke up & he’s talking non sense)

- smiling from ear to ear whenever he hears ur name in his group of friends. (would result to 1hr of anton yapping about how cute you were yesterday and the day before that, and two weeks ago)

- anton buying matching EVERYTHING. and giving them to you with a shy smile.

- matching rings, matching trinkets, matching bracelets, matching phone cases— told u, everything.

- “why are you hugging me all of a sudden?” “you’re the cutest i adore you so much” (you’re just eating bread)

- “hi, can we date with the intention of marrying you & having pets as many as you want”, “anton, we’ve been together for almost two years”, “oh, i thought i was being delusional”

- even on casual days, anton would send his newly made playlists for you.

- "i'm gonna take a nap" "okay, me too" "are you sleepy?" "no" "then why..?" "i wanna take a nap with you"

- anton taking care of you when you're sick. and you always feel bad. "baby, sleep somewhere elsee. you'll catch my fever" "i can't sleep without you next to me"

- "have i told you that i love you?" - anton says while eating dinner.

- anton having five story highlights with just you

- anton using a photo of the two of you as his profile photo in every social media platform.

- has two pouches of things that you MIGHT need in his everyday bag (thats why his bags r always gigantic)

- anton's really expressive. he's expressive but would get shy right after saying that he loves you.

cute stuff

- "they're cute, they're just like us" - anton w every single couple in a romance movie

- anton learning how to cook your favorite foods & baking ur fav pastries at home

- would always be on a facetime w u even in social events (he can’t function w/o seeing u)

- anton massaging u after a long week !!!

- handwritten notes :(

- anton writing post-its and sticking it on ur forehead while you’re sleeping whenever he has to leave early in the morning

- anton writing DETAILED handwritten letters for you every monthsary to tell u his favorite moments w u that month, to tell u that he’s proud of u for every single thing that u’ve done that month. he’s such a words of affirmation guy.

- anton not ordering a lot because he knows that u get full easily so he’ll get to eat ur leftovers anyway

- but anton would always make sure that you’ll eat A LOT. that’s why he’ll research a lot about the restaurant menus that you’ll eat in.

- anton brushing your hair every night

- anton letting you style his hair (once went to work w pigtails)

- reading together (and anton falling asleep on ur shoulder right after one chapter)

- SUNDAY RESET IS ANTON’S FAVORITE DAY !!! the everything shower, doing each other’s nails, cooking together, eating a homemade fancy dinner with candles, talking about your week, and ending the day with wearing couple face masks while watching a 2000s romcom movie.

- anton going with you to ur nail appointment and him sitting next to you for 2 hours.

- anton’s closet is basicslly your closet, and your closet is basically anton’s.

- you wearing anton’s clothes & anton wearing your watches and accessories in a daily basis

- gazing at each other in the midst of the crowd, exchanging warmest smiles

- anton running to you to carry you in a hug

- you mentioning that you like this specific cake ONCE in a casual conversation and anton buying it for you every night.

- “did you hear something?” “BABY STOP SCARING ME”

- when you wanna wear something revealing but you asked anton first so now he doesn’t know if he’ll be mesmerized with you or he’ll be offended that you think he won’t let you wear that

- anton waiting for you to come home til midnight because he wants to have dinner with you (it’s 12am)

- anton carrying your handbag / shoulder bag as if it’s his bag.

soft spots

- arguments w antons barely happen but when it does, it often ends almost immediately.

- anton’s always the one to apologize first. even though you’re at fault, anton makes sure to talk to you without making you feel invalidated.

- anton’s definitely a date to marry guy. which is why during deep talks, he’s always talking about the future with you.

- anton finding you crying. he won’t ask why, he’ll just hug you warmly til you feel better. once you’re feeling better, he’ll buy u guys pints of ice cream and watch your comfort movie in silence and in each other’s arms.

- imagine anton’s soft voice welcoming you home after a tiring day. "how was your day, my love?" anton asks, carrying your bag, gently pulling you to the couch so he can massage your shoulders while you spend 2 hours talking about your day.

- mornings with anton are always so warm. you're cooking your breakfast while anton's just hugging you from the back. his face buried at the side of your neck, while talking casually about your plans for that day.

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

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[rafescherie]

✮⋆˙ bsf!rafe coming to your rescue when you need him

warnings — mature contents; physical violence (fighting).

cherie's note —oh noooo save me bsf!rafe, oh noooo. decided to post this draft c: ! will definitely make a part two if anybody wants to read it. i love bsf!rafe being secretly whipped for reader trope ugh.

his knuckles threatened white with the way he aggressively gripped onto the steering wheel of his notorious black truck. it was half-past midnight, the tall man settling down for the night when his phone vibrated against his lacquered nightstand, revealing a phone call from you. this was not unusual — you and rafe cameron had been best friends for years, conjoined at the hip up until a few weeks ago when you had met your boyfriend. rafe hadn't liked him from the start — he was just another preppy kid from this side of the island, who never put in the work and complained when shit didn't go his way. since then, he had hardly spoken to you, tension spreading like a sickness between both of you — you hardly even greeted him when you saw him in public, and rafe knew he was the reason. the wall wedged between you both only further grew everyday.

the weeping in your broken voice shatters his fucking heart to pieces, strangled communication over your throat-swelling hyperventilation. you knew he would do anything for you, whether he was holding a grudge or not — the only person you could truly depend on, was rafe cameron. he was so helplessly whipped for you — he would go as far as killing for you, if it ever came down to it. his cold demeanor shattered immediately — he knew what he needed to do.

the anger boiling under the surface of his flesh hadn't subsided during the short ride, slamming the heavy metallic door of his huge truck shut with so much force it shook the vehicle. his steps up the driveway of this house were filled with fury, ready to start a fight with the first person he noticed even looking at you the wrong way. the music of the party hummed loudly outside of the residence, fading as the salty ocean breeze flowed through the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

and there you sat, perched lowly on the front steps of the porch — salty tears stained onto your flustered cheeks, eyes puffy from how hard you had been sobbing into your phone. you stood at his arrival, arms wrapping around yourself to insulate the warmth of your own body under your pitiful little dress. his arms wrapped around your shoulders, nose nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt. the cologne that clung to the material of his clothing sent a chill of comfort over your exhausted body, a wave of safety easing your nerves.

"you okay, sweet girl?" he asks softly, dark-blue eyes searching over your face for any sort of discomfort. his gaze flickered with something other than just concern — outrage and frenzy. a knot of rage tightened within his chest at the sight of your implausible little nod of reassurance. he kisses the top of your hairline softly, pulling away swiftly to step foot onto the wooden porch.

the house was packed — sweaty, drunken teens swaying to the beat of this pathetic playlist beaming through every room. he moved effortlessly through the crowd of people, heading towards the kitchen with one thing in mind — revenge. despite your whiny protests following him along, he was blinded by rage, bright red flooding his vision. your boyfriend wasn't going to get away with this. not again.

across the lavish kitchen, your boyfriend held a bottle of beer within his grasp — a smug look pressed across his face at the attention from his friends. had he not been drinking tonight, things could have been different — but he was a mean drunk, ego fueled by the torment he placed on those around him. this time, it had been you who had inevitably fallen within his crosshairs. rafe had figured it was only a matter of time before you fell victim, too.

rafe's steps towards him are strong and calculated. your boyfriend’s inebriated state of mind slows his reflexes, unable to recognize rafe approaching until he towered over him. the eldest cameron sibling's closed fist shot out like a bullet. the punch connected with his jaw, snapping his head to the side. pain bursted through his skull, sharp and disorientating, hardly enough time before rafe would throw another his way.

"piece of shit," rafe growls, his voice rough. his hands curled into fists, knuckles white with rage, "look at you — always so weak. just like i said you'd be."

your hand flies over your mouth, pure shock coursing through your veins at the sight. you felt bad — truly, you did. but it wasn't like he didn't deserve it — he did. your heart thunders against your chest, the rhythmic pounding almost in sync with the blows delivered to his face.

your boyfriend gasps, his chest tightening with the effort of breathing, but he didn't try to rise. his body felt like it belonged to someone else — someone weak, broken. he had no fight left in him, body hunched and bruised, face pale from the beating.

"you're pathetic," rafe sneered, wiping the blood from off of his own lip, as he took a step back. "look at you. poor excuse of a fucking boyfriend."

adrenaline surged through rafe's bloodstream, delivering one final kick to his ribcage before walking away. your boyfriend’s eyes, bloodshot and swollen, slowly lifted to meet yours, but there was no fire behind them. only exhaustion. only defeat.

you followed rafe out of the party silently, tears streaming down your cheeks. despite the chilly air across the ocean, rafe's body was warm with epinephrine, the rush only subsiding the closer he got to his parked vehicle. his jaw was clenched, the muscle ticking under his skin, but he held himself together, his voice low and steady as he helped you into the large truck. every movement was deliberate, careful, as though he was fighting the urge to snap, and yet, he didn’t let his frustration show beyond his tense posture. once you were settled, he stepped around the front, the weight of his anger still radiating off him, before sliding into the driver’s seat with a slow exhale.

the ride back to his house was silent — tension cutting the air like a razor blade. everything had happened so fast, the night becoming a blur the more you thought about it. still, sitting inside of rafe's truck once more, you felt at home. it hadn't become a realization until you sat perched in that stupid short dress, looking so damn pretty despite your running makeup, that you realized how much you missed this.

"thank you, rafe." you speak, breaking the silence. your voice is soft in comparison, offering genuine gratitude to your guardian angel. his free hand laid against his lap, bruised knuckles throbbing under his tanned skin — yet, he was more than happy he had come to your rescue.

"'course, pretty girl. told you i'd be there if you needed me."

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : were back again at daily posting 🙏🏻 to my pookies who supported me, y'all made me giggle and kickin' my feet in my bed last night 👉🏻👈🏻 love lots!

GOJO SATORU, as your husband !

• Gojo being your husband is no different from being your boyfriend — he still gotta be that same person you dated few years ago, though he became more serious about situations and decisions because you guys are married but his goofy, annoying, clingy side is still there — I mean when he met you and been with you for like two weeks your caller name is already set as 'wifey'.

Gojo who totally acts like a mom when you leave for work, he is like a freaking HOUSEWIFE —

"honey!" he sings as he walks into the living room seeing you brush your hair Infront of the mirror, getting ready for work. "hmm?" you responded and quickly turns your head at him — he's wearing a this is what an awesome husband looks like apron which made you too stunned to speak, "I created a bento for you." he smiles as he hands out a nicely wrapped bento box which was really new to you because it's always you who keep creating bentos for him, usually when he leaves for a mission.

"thank you, honey." you say softly with a warm smile as you accept his bento that he specially created for you, he can't help but to feel like a love sick teenager seeing you smile like that. He officially takes the position of being a housewife 🫡

Gojo who couldn't stop talking about the future he wants with you like nonstop — this man would talk about having three million carbon copy of him with you and would name them after megumi, yuji, nanami and basically all of his friends, students, and dead relatives 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 — I FEEL LIKE HE GOTTA BE THAT TYPE OF PERSON.

Gojo always flexes you everyday and YOU are his hyper fixation — argue with the wall, he gotta be the type of man to say "she's my wife." randomly when he's talking to an old friend he haven't seen for a long time. HE WILL BE THE HUSBAND WHO YOU WILL SEE WEARING "I LOVE MY WIFE" TYPE OF SHIRT WITH THE UGLIEST FONT AND PHOTO TEMPLATE EVER. Once a person mentions your name he ain't gonna shut the fuck up.

I just know this marriage go'n be like Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's relationship 🙏🏻 ABSOLUTELY RANDOM TEXTS FROM HIM, UPDATING YOU TOO MUCH.

2:32 pm

gojo : shitting at the mall cuz i don't have anywhere to shit on.

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : i miss you my wife, my beautiful wife.

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : your very handsome husband ❤️

2:40 pm

you : stop spamming me messages love, im at work 🙏🏻

gojo : why? is it turning you on 😏

you : that's a photo of your feet.

Gojo who became a seriously hands on person when you told him that you're pregnant — when he has missions with yuji, megumi, or maybe nobara and you told him that you're very tired to do anything today he will be like,"okay kids, I got to go I have important things to do." and dashed away before they could say something and mf arrived at yalls house within a second.

Gojo who cried when he carry his baby for the first time, he was sobbing like hell — girl dad? boy dad? BRO HE IS BOTH ‼️ "okay we'll name this one suguru and this one-" he is going to come up with the most ridiculous names, probably the worst one was his dead ancestor.

okay seriously, Gojo would be a full time dad after his children were born — he will always stay at home as much as he can, having twins isn't easy plus he's trying to help you with his full power and make sure you don't feel alone through this.

"gojo.." you grumble as you felt his presence disappearing next to you at bed, you open your eyes and sees he wasn't there which led you to stand up and start looking for him — you walk out of the bedroom and noticed that the twin's bedroom door was open so you check it out.

in your suprise, gojo was in the rocking chair with the twin's in his arms peacefully sleeping and he is snoring like hell. You can't help but smile seeing this moment, it warms you heart. You quickly grabbed your phone and took a quick photo, this is what you exactly wished for.

Gojo who couldn't stop posting you and his little angels and his fans are absolutely living for it, it's like his day wouldn't complete without posting cute photos of his angels and of course, you as well. Gojo is indeed a Facebook mom —

; gojosatoru

tagged : @y/n.instagram | fam time 🤍 !

liked by megumi.22 and 8,957 others

itaaa.yuji | I volunteer as a tribute to babysit them 🫡

nobaraaa | CUTIES.

shokoleiri.7 | adorbs

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (2) | Joe Burrow

Angst/Fluff

Summary: Joe doesn’t have the best reaction to your news, and it causes some tension between the two of you.

••••••

You stared at Joe in confusion as he laughed.

“Good one, Y/N” he says, still laughing. “But if you’re going to play a prank on me, at least come up with a better joke” he adds as he calms down. “Joe, I’m not joking” you tell him quietly. “The acting was seriously top tier. How have you never shown that to me before? I mean the tears looked so real-“

“Joe I’m not kidding. I’m not trying to play a prank on you” you cut him off. “I’ve been nauseous all week, my boobs are incredibly sore, and I missed my period over a week ago” you explain, and he lets out a sigh. “There’s no possible way you could be pregnant. You’re on birth control. You have that thing in your arm” he reminds you, smiling again. “I think you’re being paranoid” he says causing you to scoff.

“Joe, this is serious-“

“You’re not pregnant. You sound crazy” he says pulling back from you. “Have I been working you too hard? Maybe it’s stress. Take the rest of the day off-“

“That doesn’t explain the positive pregnancy test on my bathroom counter” you argue starting to get aggravated. “I’ve been ignoring it for weeks. Hoping maybe I was a little bit crazy. But we weren’t exactly the most careful-“

“So you’re turning this around on me?” Joe asks, his jaw clenched. “No, I’m not-“

“That’s how it sounds. You were irresponsible and now you’re paying the price for it and taking it out on me” he spits with his eyes full of anger. “Last time I checked it takes two people for something like this to happen. I didn’t have sex with myself” you retort and he scoffs. “How could you let this happen? Do you know how much shit this is going to cause? I don’t need this right now. I have to go back to practice, and to be honest I’m not sure I even want you here right now. You’re dismissed for the day” Joe walked out of the office leaving you stunned.

You knew he might not have the best reaction but you didn’t think it would be like this. Joe has never spoken to you that way, even when he was at his worst. With tears in your eyes, you gathered your bag and slowly began to make your way toward the parking lot.

You had a lot of things running through your head, but one rash thought lingered and it made you sick to your stomach. It was going to be a long night.

•••

Later that night, you’re sitting on your couch with your laptop open in your lap. You decided to throw yourself into work, and Joe had a foundation event coming up that Robin asked you to help organize. Even mad at him you couldn’t let this go undone. His foundation was one of the most important things to him, and you kept telling yourself you were more so doing this for his parents. You’re about halfway through editing the announcement picture that would eventually be posted to the foundations instagram, when you heard a knock at your door.

Furrowing your brows, and setting your laptop on the glass coffee table, you walked over to the door and looked through the peep-hole. Your heart lurched at the sight of him. You open the door, and the two of you stare at each other for about a minute.

“You’re not here to throw me down the stairs, are you?” You ask, half joking.

Joe rolls his eyes, “can I come in?”

You move to the side and let him into your home. He kicks his shoes off, knowing you don’t like shoes on your light colored carpet. “What’s up? Why’d you stop by?” You ask, a sigh escaping your lips. You know exactly why he’s here, but you wanted to see what he had to say for himself. “I went home today after practice and had some time to think. The way I treated you was wrong and just absolutely disgusting” he says, stepping toward you, and you take a step back.

“I deserve that.” He says running his hand through his hair. “I never should have blamed you for this. This is just as much my fault, if not more. You did your part being safe, I’m the one that decided not to use condoms. That’s on me. I want you to know how sorry I am about today,” Joe says. You guys never breaking eye contact.

“You’re probably terrified, and I didn’t make it any easier-“

“That’s for sure.” You mutter. “Joe, I never meant for this to happen. And I’ve done a lot of thinking myself. I’m going to keep this baby. I’m not asking you for any help, I’m not asking you for any money. I’m fully prepared to do this by myself. I’ve started looking for another job-“

“Hang on a second-“

“You can sign your rights away. We don’t even have to tell anyone that the baby is yours. You’ll have no ties to it” you ramble, and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I want.” He states, his voice firm. “This is my kid, Y/N. Not just something I can pretend doesn’t exist. I want to do this with you, if you’ll let me” he pleads, reaching out to grab your hand.

“You really hurt me today, Joe.” You told him. “You made me feel like I ruined your life”

“I know, and I regret everything I said to you. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am. You didn’t ruin my life. Neither one of us could have anticipated this happening” he assures you. “I am so so sorry” he says, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m still very upset with you. It’s going to take some time to fully forgive you” you tell him, and he frowns, but he understands.

“I have a doctors appointment in the morning, if you’d like to come” you offer. “It’s just to confirm everything and get a due date and all that fun stuff”

“I’ll drive and buy you breakfast” he says, looking down at you. “Speaking of food, I’m starving” you groan, and he lets out a laugh. “Alright, I guess I’ll feed you” he jokes, making his way to your kitchen. “Ooh, can you make that pasta that I like? I’m pretty sure I have all of the ingredients” you ask with pleading eyes.

“Yes, I can make you the pasta. Pick a movie, and shut that laptop. Work is over for the day” he orders.

“Sir, yes, sir”

•••

The Next Day

“Well congratulations, Y/N. You are indeed pregnant,” the doctor says, entering the room after your test results finally come back. “Both the urine and blood test came back positive. Judging by the numbers on your results it’s looking like you’re around 8 or 9 weeks pregnant, that’s around 2 months and a week.. Which would make your due date sometime in February, but we can’t be sure until we do an ultrasound” the doctor explains.

“The next course of action is going to be removing your nexplanon and doing an ultrasound” she explains.

You look over at Joe, who’s listening intently. He hasn’t said much since the two of you got here, but you’re giving him time. He wants to be involved, but he processes things a different way. You respect that.

“We can schedule the ultrasound for about a week from now. I don’t have any available ultrasound techs today. So I have a list of appointments, and you can choose what works best for you and your schedule. All of them are on Monday. There’s a 9am, 10am, 12pm, 3pm, and 4pm-“

“We can do Monday at 9am” Joe says, and you look over at him. “You have practice on Monday” you remind him. He shrugs. “We only watch film for the first two hours on Monday, you know that. They’ll be fine without me for an hour” he assures you. “We’ll do Monday at 9am” you tell the doctor, knowing Joe wasn’t going to let up.

“Perfect. Stop at the front desk to check out on your way back out. See you Monday. Congratulations, again” she smiles as she leaves the room. You look back over at Joe. “You okay?” You ask, and he nods. “I’m good. Now let’s go get you guys some breakfast,” he says, and a warm feeling spreads through your chest. You slip your hand in his and he leads you out of the room.

•••

“What can I get you guys to drink?”

“I’ll take a coffee with extra cream and sugar” you say, and Joe protests. “You can’t have coffee. Caffeine isn’t good for the baby” he says, and you shoot him a glare that’s strong enough to cut. The waitress looks between the two of you hesitantly. . “I can have a little bit of caffeine,” you argue, and look back at waitress. “Ignore him. I’ll have a coffee” you say with a smile. It’s Joe’s turn to roll his eyes, as he orders a water for himself.

Once the waitress walks away, you kick Joe’s shin under the table. “You’re not going to be one of those overprotective fathers who dictates what I eat, drink, and do. I’m an adult. I can handle myself”

He lets out a sigh, knowing not to argue because your hormones are high right now. “Please do your research before acting like a control freak. I can have up to 200 grams of caffeine a day,” you tell him, and he sighs. “I just want to keep the two of you safe,” he admits, and you start to feel bad for going off on him.

“I appreciate that, Joey, but we’re good. We can handle a little bit of caffeine” you assure him, a slight smile on your face. The waitress returns with your drinks, and the proceeds to ask if you’re ready to order your food. “Can I have two over medium eggs, with hash browns, and toast?” The waitress writes down your order, Joe looks confused, but orders his blueberry pancakes and the waitress goes to put the order in.

“You hate eggs,” Joe comments.

“The baby wants them.”

Joe laughs, tossing his head back. “What the baby wants, the baby gets”

~~~~~~~

Ahhh our guys won yesterday!! I’m so proud of them :)