#you ask for like 8 pots and then don’t even drink it???
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Actually caught myself saying out loud today upon going to clear and clean a table “ANIMALS! The lot of you, absolute animals!!”
#WHY is there scones smashed into the table???#who smeared jam and cream on the expensive menus and oh yeah THE FABRIC SEATS#how did a group of FIVE ADULTS somehow totally and entirely miss their mouths every time while eating??#and GOD the tea!#you ask for like 8 pots and then don’t even drink it???#just spill it??????#do you KNOW how HEAVY THOSE ARE#my god!#ABSOLUTE ANIMALS#THE TABLE WITH THE BABY IN A HIGH CHAIR PAINTING THE TABLE WITH CRUMBS AND CREAM WAS CLEANER THAN YOU#I AM NOT EVEN JOKING#AND they treated the staff like human beings!#yeah to anyone who leaves a giant mess when they’re out eating somewhere I’m personally coming to your house and stealing all your cuttlery#and don’t even get me started on all the horrible textures#bloody nightmare#bloody Norwegians#I don’t have anything against Norwegians#except I do. I have a grudge against this specific party of Norwegians#made a bloody mess of the place by the time I got there#it was a LONG day
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To escape a time loop, the witch demands virgin blood. And well, everyone thinks they know who the virgin of the group is. And they're wrong – or are they?
✨。♡*~✧*~♡。✨
“Are you completely sure they are to be trusted, Merlin? What if the witch goes back on their word!” Arthur exclaimed.
He was frustrated. But so too were the knights and Merlin. They had been wandering a neverending woodland path for what had felt like hours. After all, why would they give in to a witch’s demands before exhausting every option?
“No, Arthur!” Merlin snapped. “I am not sure we can trust them at all, but what other option do we have at this point?”
Merlin was the first to notice that they’d been looping the same path several times over, before any of the knights. This sort of magic was something he had seen before, and he knew it was the type of curse that was near impossible to break from inside the incantation area. In his mind, the witch’s words repeated endlessly.
When the knights had come across the witch, they were simply sitting by a humble campfire, watching a pot of water with herbs and leaves boil over. Of course, Gwaine had been desperate enough to accept a drink from this total stranger. And after just one sip, the witch had risen to their feet and laughed – a sound so shrill and chilling.
“And thus, thou, King of Camelot and thyne beloved knights of the round table are cursed to wander these woods for the rest of time. The world shall continue on without thee as thy kingdom crumbles. But do not despair, men of the sword. Lest you bring me 9 drops of a virgin’s blood, I shall grant thee freedom once more.”
“Alright, bickering will get us nowhere!” Leon interrupted. “Even if we were to do what the witch asks, where are we going to find a virgin in these woods if it simply keeps repeating itself?”
Percival quickly quipped, “Well, what about one of us?”
An abrupt silence descended upon the men as they exchanged glances.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve never seen a woman within five feet of Merlin,” Elyan spoke.
The rest of the knights turned their faces towards Merlin.
Arthur smirked.
“Well go on then, Merlin. If you really think we can trust the witch, then go ahead. 8 drops of blood is barely much of a sacrifice.”
Merlin grit his teeth. It was true that he had never been… intimate with any of the ladies he had admired. But he had a feeling deep down that something was wrong. Was it because he had the blood of a sorcerer? Would it potentially backfire – put them in danger?
As he racked his brain, he heard the familiar metallic rush of a sword being drawn.
“Gwaine, what do you think you’re doing?” Arthur said firmly, as Gwaine drew his sword.
“What, he needs a blade if he’s gonna bleed, right?”
“And you think a sword is a good idea? What if he accidentally impaled himself?” Arthur barked.
The king quickly drew his dagger and handed it very carefully into the hands of his servant. Gwaine rolled his eyes and put his sword away.
“Here, Merlin,” Arthur spoke. His words were ever so slightly more gentle than his usual biting tone.
Merlin raced through his thoughts to try and come up with an excuse. The creeping feeling that this was wrong refused to subside.
Finally he blurted, “I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“Oh come on, Merlin,” scoffed Gwaine. “It’s not like we’re asking you to cut off your entire arm.”
Before Merlin could think of a good excuse, the words slipped from his lips:
“I can’t be the one to do it… because I’m not a virgin.”
There was a beat.
Then, before anyone could react, Gwaine had swiftly taken Arthur’s dagger and lightly swiped Merlin’s arm.
“Ow, Gwaine!” Merlin huffed, but it was too late.
Small red beads of blood dripped quickly from the sorcerer's arm to the forest floor. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Nine. The sky above them whirled and hissed, darkening in only a few seconds.
And then, the witch’s voice boomed from all sides.
“This is not the virgin blood I seek. Do not deceive me again, lest thou art willing to suffer the consequence.”
“Huh, guess he wasn’t lying,” Gwaine shrugged.
If anyone had seen Arthur’s face as the witch had spoken, they may have noticed the slight snarl of his lips, the quick flush of his face. But it soon was gone and replaced with raging concern. Tearing some cloth from his cape, the King skillfully wrapped the wound on Merlin’s arm.
“Are you alright?” he asked quickly. A little too quickly.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Merlin quivered.
Perhaps if it were any other situation, he may have had his suspicions about Arthur’s tender touches. The way his king so swiftly and gently cleaned up the wound as best he could. But his mind was worrying about something else.
He was close to connecting the dots, he was sure. Virgin blood. He was a virgin, but obviously it hadn't worked. What did the witch mean by virgin if not a person who had not had sex? Virgin - what did that word mean? Pure? Untainted?
As Merlin fretted in silence and Arthur tended to him, Leon had quietly taken the dagger. And without warning—
“Ow! Okay, that actually really hurt!” Gwaine yelped.
The others turned quickly to him and watched as blood rolled down his palm and rolled off onto the forest floor.
And then, for Merlin, it clicked. Virgin blood – he had read about it before. Dark magic required ritual blood. And the most powerful of spells required blood that had never been used in magic before. And after so many escapades with numerous magic users, of course, Merlin’s blood had been used in magic before!
Once more, the sky hissed and darkened and the witch’s voice filled the forest.
“The deal is fulfilled, oh King of Camelot. Thou and thy company may leave this place freely.”
“Holy shit, Gwaine’s a vir–”
But before Elyan could finish his exclamation, the forest fell away and the men found themselves stirring awake by the witch’s camp fire.
Arthur was the first to scramble to his feet and brandish his sword at the woods surrounding them, his knights quick behind.
“Show yourself!” he demanded.
“It's too late,” Merlin said, simply, checking his arm – still wrapped up in Arthur's makeshift cloth bandage. “The witch would be long gone by now. That sort of spell is one you cast to get as far as you can from the people you're trapping. I've read about these spells plenty of times.”
Tired, Arthur resheathed his sword and collapsed onto the floor next to Merlin. The knights also sat themselves down, exhausted.
“Does it hurt?” Arthur whispered quickly.
“Not anymore,” Merlin answered, also in a hurried, hushed tone. “Thanks for the bandage.”
Arthur felt the words claw at his throat. He so desperately wanted to know. Who was it that Merlin had let into his heart to share a bed with? Who had this servant boy met that he did not know about? Merlin told him everything. Or at least, Merlin was such an open book that Arthur knew it all. Or at least he thought he did.
His heart beat heavy in his chest. And the question never made it into the air.
Finally, Leon broke the solemn silence that hung above all their heads.
��Look, Gwaine, you really don't need to lie about being a lady-killer. We'll love you either way.”
The knights burst into a much needed uproarious laughter and even a chuckle escaped from Merlin and Arthur.
“But I've been with loads of women!” Gwaine protested. “The witch was mistaken!”
“Sure, sure,” Percival spoke dismissively. “We definitely believe you and not some super scary witchy curse, Gwaine.”
And with that the knights rose to their feet and continued on with their journey. Arthur’s eyes lingering on Merlin's arm just a fraction of a second too long.
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since your asks are open, makeout sesh with wonwoo/woozi? and some touches here and there if you could. amazing works btw!!
morning coffee — ljh
♡ pairing: lee jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: boyfriend!woozi, suggestive, fluff ♡ wc: 0.8k ♡ warnings: a lil over-the-clothes titty grabbing action but that’s it ♡ a/n: thank u sm anon for my first request hehe, hope this is what you were looking for!
your alarm goes off at 8:00am.
you yawn as you hit snooze, immediately plopping back into the pillows and rolling over. your boyfriend is long gone for work at this point - the coolness of the vacant sheets greets your warm body, feeling refreshing, but making you a bit sad that jihoon isn’t there to be your little spoon.
after a few rounds of snoozes you drag yourself out of bed and into the shower - your limbs on autopilot while your brain is still half-asleep. the warm water is invigorating, and by the time you finish washing up you are wide awake. you hop out and dry off quickly - donning only a tank top and a pair of underwear before bopping on over to the kitchen to get started on some coffee. you go to put grounds into the machine when you pause - the filter is already occupied, a full, fresh pot of coffee sitting there waiting for you.
weird… jihoon doesn’t drink coffee, so why is-
“that outfit looks good on you.”
you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden voice. you whip your head around to see jihoon, reclining on the couch, a playful grin on his face.
“jesus you scared me!” you say, hand clutching your chest as you try and calm down your heart rate. “what are you doing here??”
“i don’t work today, remember? i mentioned it last night.”
oh yeah.
“well now i remember,” you reply as you reach for a mug, helping yourself to the hot beverage. “did you make this for me?”
“just for you, babe.”
the corners of your lips perk up involuntarily. no matter how long you’ve been together, jihoon never fails to find little ways to make you smile every day.
you sip your drink - nice and strong, just the way you like it.
jihoon gazes at you lovingly. “come here, i wanna kiss you.”
you oblige, quickly taking a seat next to him. you set your drink on the coffee table before wrapping your arms around his shoulders, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. you let out a yelp as he suddenly lays down, pulling you over on top of him. your body rests comfortably against his as he draws you in as close as possible - you giggle as he gives you a rapid stream of smooches, his nose squishing into yours. jihoon rubs your back softly as he locks lips with you, his hands running up and down your body slowly. you kiss him back, pressing your mouth into his as you brush your fingers through his hair - he lets out a soft sigh at the sensation.
slowly he slides his hand down to your chest, taking your breast and playing with it - giving it light squeezes and brushing his thumb against your nipple, the feeling sensitive even through your shirt. you slip your hand underneath his t-shirt, caressing his stomach, brushing your palm lightly against his warm skin. jihoon is relentless, his mouth pressing against yours, his tongue tracing around the inside of your mouth, your teeth softly pulling at his tongue as you begin to suck on it. you feel his rapid heartbeat, pounding synchronously with yours.
you don’t know how long you lay there, bodies intertwined, making out - but you don’t care. time is irrelevant, whatever you were going to do today can wait.
fervent kisses slow, turning gentle. you plant one more kiss on his lips, lifting your head up to look your boyfriend in the eyes. he looks at you fondly, full of adoration. you feel your already-warm face turn even more flush as you beam back at him.
jihoon stretches his arms out. “so, what did- SHIT” his hand bumps your coffee cup, almost knocking it over. some now-room-temperature coffee sloshes out onto the table, but he grabs the mug before it fully takes a tumble.
“nice catch,” you say with a grin.
“sorry,” he replies, his cheeks turning pink.
you sit up, about to go grab a towel, but jihoon jumps up before you can, taking the mug with him. he returns from the kitchen with paper towels in one hand and your mug in the other, the coffee now steaming.
“i reheated it for you,” he says as he hands you the cup. you take a sip as he cleans up the spill, the hot beverage gracing your taste buds.
jihoon finishes cleaning and rejoins you on the couch.
“so what do you have going on today babe?”
“nothing,” you reply.
he grins back at you before grabbing you and pulling you on top of him once more. you laugh as he starts kissing your cheek again.
“good.”
#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#lee jihoon#woozi#woozi fics#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#svt fics#svt imagines#svt scenarios#seventeen fics#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#woozi x reader#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#woozi fluff#svt fluff#seventeen fluff
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Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel
Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)
WC: 16.3k (dont say anything)
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, self-esteem issues, fluff, self doubt, flirting, soft touches, skin on skin contact, kissing, kissing with tongue, pining, Stripper!Billy, Stripper!Steve, sensual dancing, smut (i won't spoil it)
Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.
Summary: You have a date, but it doesn't go as you thought it would. Friends are always there to bring a smile to your face, and Eddie gets the reason of why the date went wrong, ending with him helping you in a very special way.
A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took! But it's finally here, and it's long, and I hope it's up to everyone's expectations! I am happy I got so much response on this fic, from people I admire, as well as to all of you who decided to start reading it. Thank you!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!
PART 5
Your breath was heavy as you stared up at the ceiling with a sheen of sweat over your forehead.
You almost never did this, but lately there was a need for it like never before. You didn’t even know what you were imagining, or who you were picturing, but you never felt so carnal before, so needy, and it all started since you kissed Eddie. It was as if there was a switch inside of you, and he just turned it on, and now it’s unstoppable.
When was the last time you actually had sex? It had to be over two years now, because that’s the last relationship you had with a man. You could handle it for two months only. You always went for the same kind. Introverts. Rarely go out, probably gamers that spend their nights and days on the computer, so it was a win win for you. You got to satisfy that primal part of you, and you barely had to see them.
And you don’t even enjoy it, or at least that’s what you think but now, for some reason, and out of nowhere you are craving for it. The only explanation for that is because you now know you can talk to people you find attractive and you might have a shot at it. Should you download those dating apps Robin uses?
You look at the clock and realize you have just half an hour to prepare your coffee and get on the computer for work. Your eyes slightly widen and you sit up, almost throwing your vibrator to the ground.
“Shit!” You didn’t intend to touch yourself in the morning like this, but you awoke at 8 and for some reason you were restless. You didn’t know why, because you had actually touched yourself the day before, and two days before that. You were being insatiable and you don’t know how to stop it.
But now, thanks to that, you were rushing out of bed to put on a nice shirt but keeping your pajama bottoms on, just in case you have a meeting today, and try to wake yourself up in the bathroom, washing your face as quick as possible, and brushing your hair. You put some mascara on, and rushed out of the bathroom to finally start your pot of coffee. You walked towards your desk that was in a corner of your living room, and opened up your laptop, ready to log on to work.
When you finally had your cup of coffee and you were working away on the computer, you could finally relax. You put on some jazz music just to fill the background with something as you worked the day away. You had some lunch, making a quick tuna salad to fill your stomach as you looked at your phone, scrolling on instagram.
You had a message from Eddie, and when you opened it, it was a video of a horse where the owner asks if he is going to be a good boy today, and the horse simply turns, farts on the camera and runs away. You almost snorted out the water you were drinking, swallowing it quickly to start laughing at it, double tapping the video for a like.
It was friday, so maybe you can go to Eddie’s today, maybe hang out with the other guys if they’re available, invite Robin too. You were happy that she and Steve were getting along, and even if they insult each other on a daily basis, it was always in an endearing way. Almost.
For over a month you’ve been over the moon with your new found friends, and also a panging sense of guilt filled your gut for not telling your other friends. You’ve gotten together with them, and you had to bite your tongue from your excitement whenever they said about going out at night but for your sake they decided to simply have dinner at a bar, or restaurant.
You went to Eddie’s messages, and you honestly believed that after your kiss everything would be awkward, but actually, you felt as if you two had gotten closer. The messages were more recurring, and now sometimes he messaged you good morning if he woke up early enough. This was not one of the times, so he must have worked till late last night.
You blushed as you thought about that, because there was a part of you that was intrigued if you would still faint at seeing them strip in front of you. When you remember that night, you don’t feel as flustered as you felt some weeks back. You knew you would be nervous, but it didn’t feel as gut wrenching as before.
You were about to say good afternoon to Eddie until a notification popped up in your laptop. You put the phone down to see who messaged you, seeing it was one of your coworkers asking for help with something. You read what he had been having troubles with and realized it’s not something you can help him with via text. Austin wasn’t a bad guy, and he almost never asked for your help, barely talked to him during meetings, which you were now putting your camera on unlike previous times.
So you decided you would open up a video call with a presentation to actually help him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, but it was something you knew how to do. You fixed yourself a bit in front of the camera and took a deep breath in before calling him. It rang just three times and then he came into view, knocking your breath just a bit.
You saw him at the meetings a few times, but he always looked tidy, with his hair pulled back and a nice button up shirt on. Since you didn’t have any formal meetings today, he had decided to wear a casual black T-Shirt, and his blonde hair was a little messy, but it was casual messy. His eyes were greenish from what you could see, and unlike the times you’ve seen him, there was a beard on his face now.
In one word, Austin was gorgeous, and he made you straighten up on your chair a bit.
“Hey there, sorry to bother you with this, really.” He starts, rubbing his cheek in embarrassment. You shook your head and smiled softly into the camera.
“No, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything particularly important, so don’t worry about it.” He smiles back and gives you a nod. That gave you the que to start explaining to him, pulling the sharing screen feature to show him the practice of it as well. He asked a few questions of course, but you didn’t mind the interruption really, and you found yourself being able to talk without stuttering or stopping at any point.
“So it was that easy… Look, or I’m a complete idiot for not understanding the manual or–”
“The manual is outdated Austin.” You giggled at him and he squinted slightly to the camera with a soft smile to his face as he looked at you.
“Hey, I think this is like… The first time I ever talked to you, apart from the meetings of course.” He says and that made you slightly nervous, but a good nervous, knowing he was engaging in conversation and that you actually felt like continuing it.
“Yeah, I am not the talkative kind–” You see him squinting intently into the camera and you tilt your head at him, wondering what he is looking at.
“Is that the collection of Harry Potter in your library?” He points and your eyes widen, looking behind you, the library on full display and the 7 books in chronological order and different sizes and colors must have given it away. You turn your head to look at him with a smile and nod.
“Yeah– Kind of obsessed with it really.” He smiles widely into the camera and puts his wrist up and you look into the screen to see a wand tattooed on his skin, making you widen your eyes with a surprised look on your face. “Holy shit.” He laughs at your cussing and you felt yourself blush for doing so, but he wasn’t showing signs of disgust or being uncomfortable at that.
“Same here, read the books since very little. I know there’s controversy now with it, but I can’t fight my childhood really.” He says and you know exactly what he is talking about, feeling the same way about it. You give him a nod, with a smile on your face and you bite your bottom lip with curiosity in your eyes.
“Yeah, I get that…” He squints slightly at you with a playful smile on his face as he scoots closer in the camera.
“You look like you have something to ask me.” You catch the way his face changed when talking to you from the beginning, letting the butterflies in your belly break loose.
“I was going to ask you what house you’re in.” You ask and he thinks for a moment, and you widen your eyes because he wasn’t telling you right away.
“Mmm… I could tell you, or I could let you figure me out.”
Oh.
Oh. He was flirting with you.
Your heart was beating wildly now, not expecting the call to turn this way at all, and you were almost speechless at it. You have to be brave, a cute guy was openly flirting with you, a cute guy who is not Eddie, or Steve, or Billy! He is not helping you with anything, he is flirting with you because he wants to!
“And can you figure me out?” You ask back, tilting your head slightly and he smiled at the reciprocated flirting. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I mean, I think it would be easier in person… Maybe tonight, after work, like an after office kind of thing?” He asks you and you feel the beating of your heart in your throat, trying to settle your breathing down. He was asking you out, on a date, a date with a cute guy. What should you do? Should you say yes? No? But this is what you wanted, you have to remind yourself that this is why you asked for help in the first place.
“U-Um, sure! We can meet up somewhere?” You ask him and he gives you a nod with a smile to his face.
“Sounds great, put your phone down on the chat so I can message you later, because fucking Lorraine is blasting my notifications right now with something.” He rolled his eyes and you giggled at that, knowing how annoying that coworker is. You bit your lip as you went to his chat and typed in your cell phone number and he smiled at the camera once he received it.
“So, see you later I guess?” He gives you a nod and a small wave.
“See you later.” And like that the call ended.
You let out a sharp breath, like a loud huff, letting your lungs decompress because you couldn’t believe it. You were stunned, sitting at your desk, looking at the computer as if it were the most incredible thing you’ve seen in your life.
You had a date.
You got yourself a date. By yourself. By being yourself and just you, no excessive make up was required. A wide smile spread on your lips as you squealed with flushed cheeks towards the ceiling. You would go out with a cute guy, finally. Your breath was heavy as your stomach bounced with nervousness, excitement, nausea, everything but you didn’t care.
You grabbed your phone and unlocked it, and as soon as you saw where it was unlocked, you felt your stomach slightly drop. Eddie had sent you a good afternoon himself, with a tired smiley face. You bit your bottom lip, gulping as you wrote good afternoon back to him, and for some reason you didn’t want to tell him about this date.
You thought he would be the first person you would like to tell this to, but there was a feeling in the mouth of your stomach that didn’t let you. You really don’t know why, but you just felt uncomfortable telling him something like this. Why? Why would it be weird to tell him this? Your brain was trying to find a solution, but in the meantime, you changed from Eddie’s messages to Robin’s.
‘Come to my house, ASAP.’
And that’s all Robin Buckley needed to head upstairs with her work laptop in her arm, barging through your door.
“This better be fucking goo–”
“I have a date!” And Robin almost dropped her laptop to the floor at the news, looking at you with a completely stunned look on her face, features not even moving as you stared at her with widened eyes, waiting for her response. Suddenly, like getting hit by a brick, the realization dawned on you. “Oh… Oh shit, I have a date… I have a date Robin, what do I do?”
Your stomach started flipping over now that it all sank in. It happened way too fast, and out of nowhere, and now it was happening. In a few hours you would meet up with a cute guy and you didn’t know what to really do. What did you have to expect? Should you expect more than a kiss? Should you shave? Should you put on your lingerie or not? Do people do that on the first date? But you did want to feel good, so what is wrong with that? But wouldn’t it be desperate–
“Hang on!” You heard Robin yell and you realized you were pacing around the room, holding onto your head completely exasperated. You turned to look at her with a panicked look on your face and she quickly put the laptop on your counter and walked towards you, grabbing your hand to center you back to earth. “You’re going on a date?!”
You quickly nod your head, feeling your cheeks burn as well as your entire body feeling like lava was being poured on you. Oh god, you were going with a stranger, well not a complete stranger, he’s been working in the same area for almost five months now, he looks tidy, his name is Austin, yeah, you can work with that, and he–
“He likes Harry Potter! He has a wand tattooed on his arm!” You say excitedly and now Robin knows exactly why you agreed so quickly. Nevertheless she jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands at you. She never thought she’d see the day you would go on a date, and much less with–
“Wait, wait… is he hot?” She asks and you nod wildly, going towards your work computer and putting up his work profile. He had a suit on with his hair moussed back but his features were the same. Robin’s eyes almost bulged out of her sockets as she looked at the man. “Holy fucking shit… From work!?”
“Y-Yeah… It’s not going to be a problem right? Oh… Oh there might be, what if it doesn’t work out Robin? I mean, what if I fuck it up, and I embarrass myself and he doesn’t want to talk to me–”
“Then you two stay friends!” She immediately cut your rambling off, turning to look at you with a smile to her face. “Not every man is a douche bag, and if it doesn’t work out, it just doesn’t and you two go back to being coworkers, but THIS, is a big fucking step!” She says excitedly, making you smile to match her energy, despite the ongoing nervousness in your belly.
“Yeah, I’m… a little excited too… Really nervous, but excited.” You say to her and she bites her bottom lip, grabbing her phone from her back pocket, looking for Steve’s contact, pressing the video call button, jumping up and down slightly.
“I can’t wait to tell Steve! I mean I bet you already told Eddie, so–”
“WAIT!” You yell but it was too late. You could hear the sound of the video call starting and your blood drained out of your body, and your stomach was turning all around.
“Robin, what-sha wantsh?” You hear Steve mumble and Robin makes a disgusted face with a smile still on her face.
“Stop chewing your food like a camel, and listen to me. Guess who has a date tonight!” She says onto the screen and you wince when Steve doesn't respond at all. You weren’t looking at the screen so you didn’t know what his reaction was.
“You said we should all hang out today, and now you have a date?” He says and your ears perked up at that. Robin thought of the same thing you did this morning, warming your heart a little bit, and also feeling sad you won’t be able to join. Robin rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Not me Dingus.” She then, out of nowhere, turned the camera to face you this time, making your eyes go wide. “TA-DA!”
Steve’s eyes almost popped out at the surprise and he suddenly spat the cheerios he was eating. You had a disgusted look on your face and then heard a lot of noise from Steve’s side, cursing and stomping all around.
“Harrington, what the actual fuck!” You heard Billy yell and Steve was coughing non stop. Your face flushed, burnt even at the attention and then Steve tried talking, saying your name.
“She- She has a date tonight!” He yells and the next thing you heard was a pan dropping somewhere and Eddie suddenly came into view with his hair up in a ponytail, shirtless, and with his tattoos showing off. Your stomach flipped at the sight, making you step closer to the phone, grabbing onto it.
Your eyes locked with Eddie’s as he too took the phone in his hands, snatching it from Steve, aggressively, and faced the camera to look at you. You weren’t about to faint, he could guess that much, and you didn’t really give off an excited vibe to it.
“You’re going on a date tonight?” He asks and you are about to reply but you get cut off by Steve yelling in the background, as Eddie seems to rush upstairs towards his room.
“My phone Munson! Where are you–”
“Shut the fuck up Harrington, I’ll give it back!” Your eyes widened slightly at the anger you felt in his tone, as if he were having a bad day, but then his eyes turned to you and that anger was no longer there, but an emotion you couldn’t quite describe. “So?”
“U-Um… Yeah, I-I am going on a date tonight, with a coworker actually…” You were embarrassed and you didn’t know why. There was a feeling of pain in your chest, or a feeling of uneasiness in the center of your gut as you saw Eddie’s face contort slightly at the news, to then give you a small smirk.
“And? Do you find him, you know… attractive?” He asks, with a certain nervousness in his tone. He was feeling his chest slightly pressing into his lungs, as if air were about to be gone from them at any second. His fingertips were sweating as he held the phone to his face, looking at you intently, watching your reactions.
“I mean, he is, yeah, so… It can also end in friendship, who knows!” You give a nervous giggle and maybe it ends like that, maybe you find a great potterhead friend in a coworker. Suddenly Robin comes into the camera over your shoulder.
“He is fucking hot, I’m talking blonde, green eyes, AND Harry Potter fan.” She wiggles her eyebrows to Eddie and then to you and for some reason that made Eddie’s stomach flip over. So the guy liked something you liked. Something you were fascinated about. You rolled your eyes at Robin and then talked to Eddie again.
“I was going to tell you, but Robin beat me to it right now.” Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You told Robin first, of course, but the doubt in his mind was still there. When did he ask you out? How long ago was it? Why didn’t you say good afternoon to him first?
“Well, you better gear up for that Angel.” He says pushing up a half smile on his lips, his jaw clenching at the thought of someone else seeing you dressed up. Dressed up in order to get their attention, to fawn over you. Makeup neatly done to accentuate your best features, because you want them to look at you.
“Yeah…” For some reason you couldn’t stop staring at him on the screen, your heart tugging on you for some unknown reason, and you were feeling a little bit lightheaded and his staring was making your body tense.
“Welp Eddie, I have to help her get ready, tell Steve I’ll be there at 8!” Robin says excitedly, about to grab the phone out of your hands but Eddie stops her, flailing a hand around. He took a deep breath in, trying to contain himself at the moment. He had to be a good friend about this, because that’s all he was. Yes, that’s all he was.
“Angel, if you um… if you don’t feel safe at any point, or you feel uncomfortable, you leave, or call me– any of us. Okay?” He says to you, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You felt safe thanks to his words, but there was another feeling, a weird one that you didn’t know how to describe. You gave him a slow nod and your free hand gripped tightly into a fist.
“Y-Yeah… I’ll be fine, I can do this, right?” You look for his reassurance, wanting to know if the past month was worth it, if all the lessons and confidence boosters were going to work for this very moment. He stayed silent for a few seconds, forcing a smile on his lips as he nodded at you.
“Yeah, you got it sweetheart.” He should remind you about body language, he should remind you about the topics one can talk about on a date, he should remind you about how pretty you look without even trying, to not force yourself into doing extra or anything. He should remind you about how great you kiss, how amazing you feel, how great you smell, because that would make you confident. That would make the date go your way and not the other guy’s.
But he just clenched his jaw as you took a deep breath in with a nod, handing the phone back to Robin.
“Okay Eddie, see you later!” And like that, Robin hangs up the call, letting Eddie see his own reflection at the phone’s black screen. His eyebrows were knitted together, face completely tense, and he finally let his hand fall to his side, while the other ran all over his face in frustration.
“MUNSON, MY PHONE!” Steve yelled from downstairs and Eddie clenched his fist around his phone that’s on his side, not even afraid if he was bending it or breaking it. His chest was heaving, up and down, sharp breaths flaring through his nose as the twist in his guts made him even more irritable, each second that passed as he thought about what you were going to wear. What you were going to smell like.
What if the date goes well?
Another scream for Steve made him finally snap out, slamming his fist against the doorway of his room, cracking his neck once as he took a deep breath in to calm himself down.
“Stop pissing your fucking pants Harrington!” He yelled as he headed downstairs again.
He really hoped your date didn’t like anchovy pizza.
You looked at yourself in the mirror, again, for the hundredth time in the day. You were wearing a tight black dress, almost like the purple one, with a leather jacket on top, and then you were wearing black low heel ankle boots. Robin helped with the outfit and the hair, but the makeup you decided to not use much eyeshadow, some neutral for it, and then eyeliner and mascara.
Your lips were glossy, and you looked down at your legs, a deep blush spreading on your cheeks. You shaved. Maybe it won’t lead to that, but you shaved, entirely, just in case because you knew your body was in need, and it had been for a few days. You felt some nausea appearing in your stomach as you stared at your reflection.
Do you even know how to have sex? You’ve only done missionary in your whole life, you don’t even know how to do a blowjob properly, hell, even a handjob! What if you are as stiff as a board? What if your moans are too loud? Would you even moan? You don’t remember moaning much before, not even when you touch yourself, and it’s just you in the room, no one else could hear you.
Your breathing started picking up at the thought of it, making you sit down on the bed. Austin had messaged you and told you to meet him at ‘Il Capo’ which is quite close to your apartment. The closeness made you feel somewhat calmer, but your thoughts were running wild at the possibilities the night might unfold.
But you wanted to feel good, you wanted something or someone to satiate this need that was never there before and you don’t even know why it suddenly appeared. Maybe he can help with that, maybe this is a good thing, maybe you will be able to let go, just like you did with Eddie.
Would he be like Eddie?
You snapped out of your daze as you heard an alarm from your phone, that you set up to make you actually leave your place. You took a deep breath in, getting up from your bed and grabbing your bag, taking a look at yourself once more, before deciding to leave your room and then your apartment.
Every step you took towards your car and every second you drove to the bar, your heart was hammering in your chest, wanting to rip it open, wanting to simply turn and go to Eddie’s to spend the night with him, the boys and Robin. You had to shake that feeling away, knowing that this was good for you, this is a good fucking thing, something you yearned for for a long while.
But as you stood outside the bar for 10 minutes, you were beginning to get fidgety. Maybe you were too early? Maybe it’s normal to not be punctual on a date? What if you come across as too uptight because of it? You didn’t want to make him think that you were a control freak of time, or that you were desperate or–
“Hey!” You heard your name being called, cutting your every thought and you turned around, your eyes almost wide as you had to look up towards the man that was greeting you. He was pretty, too pretty. His blonde hair was the same as you saw on camera, and he was wearing a white shirt, some jeans, and an opaque leather jacket on top that smelled like leather. The collar of his shirt was almost loose, which gave away how his muscles tightened as he bent down slightly to look at you.
“H-Hi Austin!” You slightly winced at how excited or how desperate you must have sounded but your knees were slightly buckling in his presence, your nerves at the tip of your fingertips as he looked at you.
“Sorry, Lorraine was a little intense so I logged off a little bit later than I expected.” He says, wincing slightly but in all honesty, you had just waited 10 minutes, and he was making it seem like he was two hours late, which made you smile and shake your head, feeling a little bit more at ease.
“It’s alright, I didn’t really wait long.” You say to him and he nods towards the bar, guiding you both inside. It was still a little early for people to come in, but it was the time all office workers came for happy hours after a stressful day at work. He picked a rounded booth, and you took notice of the setting. This would allow you both to sit next to each other and not in front, facing one another.
You took a deep breath in as you slid into the booth, him sitting next to you and his cologne suddenly hit you. It was bitter, too bitter for your liking, but it was still a manly smell. He took off his jacket and you blushed as you saw his biceps move, quickly taking off yours so it would feel casual.
Body language, you gotta remember that.
“So, why haven’t we gone out before? I haven’t seen you in like… any of the after office parties and I know you’ve been invited.” He says with a curious smile, looking at you, sitting almost on his side to be able to face you, so you copied his stance, feeling your cheeks get hotter as you looked at him.
You can do this. They don’t have superpowers, he asked you out first, he was interested first.
“I’m more of an introvert, prefer to read or play something. Maybe hang out with my close friends.” You say to him as the waitress comes over to take your order. He orders a glass of Rum and Coke and you get a beer for yourself, with a side of french fries to snack on. That interaction let you take another deep breath to continue the conversation, feeling his body extremely close to yours, but he wasn’t really, your mind was just playing tricks on you, which you cursed in the depth of your brain.
“Oh? You play? I mean, reading I kind of guessed because of the massive library I saw, but I didn’t know you played games.”
And that’s how the conversation flowed, getting to know one another, talking about work and about Lorraine, laughing as you both took your drinks, and you felt nice, the knot still deep in your stomach, but there was something nice about this. He was so much like you, with music, food, movies, books, almost identical.
“Right, and then my friend John, who I love dearly may I say, hugged that cactus, completely drunk out of his mind and we had to sit all around him, with tweezers, plucking all the little thorns out.” You laughed at that story, your eyes teary as you imagined the situation of a plastered guy just believing a cactus in someone's backyard was a person.
“H-Holy shit, that must of hurt!” He laughed with you, laying back on the booth, holding his belly from the strain of it.
“Sure it did, he had little thorns for over a week! He sat down on a chair and a new sting would appear.” He says with a shake of his head, calming his laughter down. You’ve been talking for the past hour and a half, letting yourself go in conversation and fluidity.
“Oh to be the person that took the thorns out of there.” You giggled and he smiled at you, shifting again to face you. You noticed how his eyes changed from playful to a squint almost, and you noticed how they drifted to your lips and back to your eyes.
“So… Now that we know each other, which house do I belong to?” He asks and you smile, facing him as well with a turn of your upper body, squinting your eyes at him. You opened your mouth to speak and he stopped you with a hand up. “Hang on. We gotta set some prizes here.”
“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows up in surprise, feeling your chest almost somersaulting from the sudden proposal.
“Okay, if you guess mine right, and I guess yours wrong, I’ll… Do your tax revisions for a week.” You smirked at that, knowing it was a good prize, and you pretended to be deep in thought before nodding at him.
“Alright, and if it’s the other way around? You guess mine, I don’t guess yours?” Your heart went to your throat as he gave you a grin, which made your cheeks flush, and your knees trembled as his eyes scanned your body for a brief second.
“I get to kiss you.” You definitely blushed at that and he noticed because he gave a small chuckle at your reaction. You gulped heavily, your belly turning in every direction possible, as your feet grew cold from your nerves.
“O-Okay…” He stood straight, fixing himself, and gave you a cocky smile, which made you a little bit more comfortable on his side. He was being goofy with you, and you very much appreciated that. “Mmm… I will say Gryffindor.”
He gave you a smile, relaxing his body and you noticed how he scooted closer to you. Blood rushed to your ears as he slowly shook his head at you. You guessed wrong. You took a sharp breath in and raised an eyebrow in question.
“You were wrong.” He chuckles as his eyes scanned you once again.
“And how do I know you are not lying?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling nervous about making a move, but Robin taught you it. Cross your arms under your chest and it will press your chest up a bit, popping it out. It worked, because his eyes drifted there for a millisecond and back to your eyes. He smiled widely, taking his keys out of one of the pockets of his jacket, and there, you saw the Crest of Slytherin dangling around it.
“And now, it’s my turn.” Your chest was ablaze as you copied him, straightening up to look at him, waiting for his response. If he guesses right, he will kiss you. This man wants to kiss you, willingly, and that is boosting you up a little. Feeling desired by a man like him felt nice, good. “Hufflepuff.”
You froze.
He smiled widely at your surprised face, fully knowing he guessed right.
“I don’t even need to ask for proof, thanks to your silent reaction.” You gulped, hoping he wouldn’t hear that and how your belly was turning and jumping, because he was scooting closer and closer, each second that passed. “Do I get my prize now?”
You looked into his green eyes, into his perfect features, in how plump his lips were as he leaned in. The cologne is bitter, too bitter, yet, you close your eyes as the scent heightens, the warmth of his body presses closer, and you remember how the past few days you just needed this. You needed it. So you let yourself go, for once, and then you finally felt it.
Lips pressing against yours.
“Okay, hang on, so I just like–” Robin was three beers in as she gave a sharp turn over her shoulder with a smirk on her face, trying to hold her laughter in, while Steve sat on a chair in front of her with arms crossed and an unamused look on his face.
“You would suck as a stripper. That’s not even a fucking tease.” Steve says with a shake of his head while Billy laughs over at the couch looking at the scene, taking a sip out of his beer.
“Robin, try to like, walk over to him, moving your hips from side to side.” Billy says as Eddie chokes on his own beer. He is on his fourth one, slightly feeling the buzz of it as he leans against one of the walls of their living room.
Steve has been trying to teach Robin some stripper tricks, but the girl is hopeless. She was as stiff as a board as she tried walking sensually towards Steve who started laughing while covering his face with a shake of his head. The music she chose was ‘Super Freak’ and it wasn’t even sexy.
“She is hopeless, okay, Robs, try to, sensually take your jacket off.” Eddie says, a small smirk on his lips. He looked at his phone again, checking the time. 9 PM. And not a single word from you. His heart increased its pumping as he thought of what could have happened. Maybe you were having a great time, maybe he kidnapped you, maybe he murdered you. The possibilities were endless and they all sounded fucking wrong in his mind.
Even the one where you were having a great time with the guy.
Robin giggled and stood in front of Steve, starting to shrug her jacket away but the bell rang, making everyone raise an eyebrow in question, completely confused.
“Didn’t we eat pizza like 10 minutes ago?” Steve asks and Billy gets up from the couch, heading towards the door, looking through the peephole first. His eyes widened and he yanked the door open.
“What are you doing here, sweets?” He asked as you stood at the door with a sour look on your face. Eddie immediately got off the wall as you walked inside the apartment, heels echoing around the room. He watched you with a bewildered look on his face as he studied your outfit and his knees almost buckled at the sight.
You looked absolutely beautiful, and your scent filled the room in one swift movement as you rushed by him. Sweet, almost floral, and god he wanted to grab you right now. Anywhere, at any part, but he noticed your anger, and he looked towards Robin to check on her to see if she knew anything.
Robin was shocked to see her best friend here because she didn’t receive any messages at all, and she hadn’t checked her location for a while, which was her mistake. But you were here now, ripping the fridge open to grab a beer, closing the door and opening it for yourself, taking a large gulp for a few seconds.
“Um…” Steve got up from the chair and looked at Eddie, motioning him with his head to go talk to you. Something was clearly bothering you, and they all suspected it had to do with your date. Eddie gulped, walking towards you as you sighed heavily with your eyes closed.
“Angel, everything okay?” You opened your eyes again and looked at his brown ones that were filled with worry. Your heart softened at that, and your anger washed away a bit, shaking your head.
“It wasn’t what I expected. I don’t want to talk about it.” You say with a grunt, going over to the couch to sit down with a grunt. Everyone else looked at each other in concern for a minute, wondering what happened or what’s wrong with you until you talked again with a confused frown to your face. “Why is super freak playing?”
At that Robin beamed, knowing you needed some cheering up even if the alcohol was buzzing in her body and she put her beer down on the coffee table, earning you a confused look on your face, looking at her.
“The boys were teaching me how to be a stripper.” You choked on your spit, coughing a bit at her words. Your eyes immediately widened as you looked at the three boys who had playful smiles on their lips.
“Excuse me… what?” You say in surprise as Steve scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You are a lame excuse for a stripper, you wouldn’t get a dollar placed on your belt.” He says and Billy laughs as he walks over to sit on your other side, taking his beer in his hand again and taking a sip from it. Eddie was trying to be subtle about it, taking short glances at you and your outfit, seeing your legs pulled together as you bent forward to listen to Robin.
“It’s just if my work bores me!” She giggled and you noticed that everyone already had a few drinks ahead of you, making you smile at how funny and fond everyone was being to each other, but there was still a storm inside of your head, which Eddie noticed.
“Come on sweetheart, chug that beer down and get in tune with us.” You looked at him with a surprised look on your face and he just smiled and winked at you, causing your belly to simply burst with something. Your thighs clenched as you looked down at your beer bottle and you tipped it back, starting to chug it down.
And as you drank the second one, and it complemented with the two drinks you had back at the bar, the buzz was already in your body, giggling as Robin bickered with Steve about his hip movements, and how they were not normal for her to do, yet, she claimed she was good with her dancing.
“Robin, you can’t just simply sit on the lap, that would be overly sexual.” Billy states and Robin rolled her eyes, drinking out of her fourth beer, shaking her head.
“You guys do worse!” She exclaims and you giggle at that and nod, completely agreeing with your friend. You still remember Steve on his knees with water being poured on his almost naked body, you remember Billy grazing his lips with Barb after he licked her neck like a lollipop and then you remember Eddie. His fingers in someone else’s throat, and his lips over another girl’s lips.
The grip on your beer tightened at the memory.
“Okay, Robin, show it to me.” You suddenly say and everyone’s eyes widened as you went to sit on the chair that was in the middle of the room. You looked at her defiantly, now your confidence skyrocketed thanks to the alcohol in your system and she gave you a puzzled look as you took a dollar out of one of the pockets of your jacket, dingling it around. “You make me speechless, this dollar is yours.”
At that Robin beamed, and ran to Billy’s phone which was connected on bluetooth to a speaker and put on ‘Under the influence’ by Chris Brown. You winced at the artist choice, but kept a straight face either way. You wanted to laugh really, as Robin started swaying from side to side, and you had to give it to her, she was really trying.
The boys were all laughing, almost grabbing their bellies as Robin approached you, holding in her laughter while biting her lips together, trying really hard to not lose it right then and there. She got in front of you and then turned around to shake her ass at you and that made you lose it completely, letting out a big laugh as you tried to shoo her away.
“Oh come on! I am trying to be sexy here!” She exclaims and you shake your head wildly, trying to hold in your laughter but it is almost impossible as Steve chokes up on his words.
“Jesus christ, Robs I didn’t teach you that!” Robin glared at her friend while you giggled behind her, still sitting and suddenly, Robin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. It was risky, and she knew it, but she wanted to know, she really was intrigued by your reactions.
“Alright, Mr. Perfect Stripper, go get that dollar then.” Your eyes widened at those words as well as everyone else’s in the room. Eddie’s stomach turned, feeling like Robin had crossed a line she shouldn’t have but then your words startled him, almost made him sweat over.
“The dollar is still in my hands.” You giggle out, actually feeling the situation comical, even if your nerves were jumping all around in your body. You trusted the boys as friends now, maybe that’s why you didn’t feel the embarrassment of the first time you’ve ever seen them. You saw them as people now, people that had a job, and people that became your friend. Dear friends even.
“Oh, I am getting that dollar.” Steve says cockily. The same song was still playing, as he walked over to you, Robin scrambling away to the kitchen counter to start preparing more drinks, but always keeping an eye over you.
Eddie gulped heavily, rising up from the couch to take his place back onto a wall, not being able to sit down any longer, as Steve walked all around your chair, looking down at you and brushing his fingertips over your shoulder. Your face remained stern, arms crossed over your chest as you followed Steve with your eyes.
You actually followed him with your eyes.
His eyebrow raised up when you didn’t even budge by his touch, giving Eddie a glance so that he knows he is still testing the waters with you. That made Eddie let out a breath of relief, knowing Steve wasn’t doing this with any other intention but to try to get you to give him the dollar.
Accepting the challenge, Steve cocked his head to the side as he stood next to you, his hip right at your eye level, and you kept your eyes forward, Billy holding in a laugh as you kept your lips tight, holding in your laughter as you clenched your eyes when you felt Steve slowly swaying downwards, grazing his belt against your arm.
For some reason, you wanted to laugh really hard, because this felt like when Robin danced on you. You didn’t even think it was sexy or with a sexual intention. He just wanted to get the dollar out of your hand, and that made you even more cocky. His face was inches from yours when you opened your eyes, and you shook your head at him.
His mouth fell open, giving Billy a surprised look on his face. Eddie clapped in the background making Steve jerk his head to glare at him. Robin let out a breath of relief as she laughed, shaking her head.
“Oh look, it seems you aren’t perfect stripper after all.” She says with her tongue between her lips that turned into a smile. Steve got up, groaning as he walked towards the kitchen counter to grab the rum and coke she prepared and took a long sip. He wasn’t going to lie, a little bit of his ego was smashed there, but there was a part of him that was happy you didn’t sweat, or fainted thanks to his closeness.
You were looking at Robin who winked at you, raising her glass up as a cheer, and you raised your beer bottle to her, and as you were about to put the dollar bill back in your jacket, your wrist was grabbed, gently, and you jerked your head up towards the person who was holding you.
“Hey, I’m getting that dollar out of your hand, okay sweets?” You blushed at the pet name, and you know Billy’s sex appeal is much bigger than Steve’s, which made your body shiver quite a bit. Eddie took a deep breath in as Billy glanced at him once. The song was still on, the chorus hitting your ears as Billy’s hand grabbed onto the beer bottle to take it away from you and place it on the coffee table.
You gulped heavily as he hovered over you, and slowly, his hands went towards your shoulder blades, sliding them under the jacket and you felt his palms on the skin of your shoulders. Your breath hitched at that as he slowly took your jacket off, sliding it off your arms to then throw it across the room and onto the couch.
His hips stayed on your line of vision as he slowly swayed them side to side, unbuttoning the first row of buttons on his shirt to reveal his chest. This escalated way too much from what Steve did and Robin was in full alert as she looked at the scene. She was going to kick Billy’s ass if you fainted right then and there. But you didn’t, you weren’t even moving as you clasped the dollar in your left hand.
Billy tilted his head at you, amused by how different you are from a month ago, daring to look him in the eye as he moved sensually in front of you. He licked his lips as he walked behind you, his hands being placed on your shoulders again, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Is that dollar mine yet?” And Billy smirked when you didn’t say anything, but your shoulders started shaking, alarming him, taking his hands off you to then hear you finally crack up, your laughter filling the room. Billy's eyes widened and he frowned in disbelief as everyone else followed in giggles.
“Look at her go!” Steve says clinking his glass with Robin’s who had a wide smile on her face, taking a gulp out of her drink. You were almost in tears as your head turned to look at Billy.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just, I couldn’t help it!” You say between giggles and Billy rolled his eyes, buttoning his shirt again and walking to get a glass for himself.
“That dollar is hanging onto dear life.” Robin says and you giggle about to get up to retrieve your beer again but the lights suddenly dim, making everyone turn to the person near the light switch.
“You really forgot about me, Angel?” Your heart stopped when you saw him. He had put his hair up in a bun, his black shirt tight on his body, and shit, you didn’t take a good look at him when you first entered because your mind was definitely somewhere else, but now, your mind was on him. As well as your eyes, your scent, and you felt your breathing hitch at every thud his boots made against the floor.
You heard your friends cheer on the low, and whistle, but you didn’t care, not when he suddenly got on his knees, crawling slowly to where you were, your thighs clenching tightly as your breathing picked up a pace because your heart started hammering wildly in your chest.
He smirked, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he finally reached your feet, taking one ankle in his hands and raising it up, towards his face. Your leg started tingling from the sudden touch, and your belly was burstin with flames at the sight. Suddenly, it felt as if it were just the two of you in the room, all alone, as Eddie looked at you with eyes that one could only describe as adoration.
He smiled as he took off your left boot, letting it fall to his side, and he led his lips towards the skin of your ankle. And oh god, that felt as if an electric shock shot from the place he pressed his lips on, and up towards your hips until it reached your brain. Your breathing was becoming too elaborated, but it was different from the other times you were breathless.
This felt too different.
His lips kept grazing your skin as he slowly started going up your leg, kissing your calf, softly, almost unnoticeable, but for you, it felt as if he were branding himself with hot iron lips. Everything inside you was burning, absolutely everything, but you didn’t want it to stop. Instead, you wanted it to keep spreading, more, and more.
Eddie was in a completely different battle all by himself, because you tasted sweet. Too sweet. Or maybe his brain was making it up because you drive him crazy. Maybe his brain was making it up because he was delighted to have you here instead of you being with your other date. Maybe his brain was making it up because he wanted to taste more. He needed to taste more of you.
You don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.
He kissed your knee tentatively, looking up at you with his big brown doe eyes and your ankle started to finally lower itself as Eddie’s hand started moving upwards, feeling your skin under his fingertips, until the pressure got tighter on your thigh, making you gasp in your throat. He smirked at your reaction, slowly pulling himself up, in a crawl, first gripping on your thigh for leverage, and then his face came up in front of yours.
Your eyes locked with his again, and there was a connection that felt like nothing you ever felt before. Something that your heart was trying to tell you, and your belly jumped with excitement, but your brain was not cooperating into finding a word for it. His hand gripped the back of your chair, over your shoulder, his tattooed arm pressing against your skin as he leaned closer towards you, and then your mouth fell slightly open as the fingertips of his right hand touched the hem of your dress.
I don't know what you did, did to me; Your body lightweight speaks to me.
Your hand trembled, yet, your eyes never left his, even if his breath was hitting your face, and the tension Eddie was feeling with you was nothing like he ever felt before. This is definitely different than before, and he knew it, and he was wondering if you knew it. And he almost couldn’t help himself as his eyes drifted to your lips.
He wanted another taste. He needed another taste. The sweetness of your skin still lingering on his lips as he licked them to keep it in his mouth a little longer. But his eyes snapped open from the daze when he felt something in the front pocket of his jeans. He looked down to see you putting the dollar in there, and everyone else suddenly reappeared in the room.
He looked up into your eyes again, and your breathing was heavy, looking at him as your hand dropped to your side after putting the dollar in his front pocket. Nervousness, it was definitely there, you knew it was there, but the shyness was being overpowered by something else.
What is it?
“Now we know who the perfect stripper is.” Robin says excitedly with a squeal, which finally makes you and Eddie break from your trance. He broke into a big wide smirk, as Billy turned the lights on again with his arms crossed. He held a smirk as he looked at your face, which was a blushing mess, yet you were still looking at the brown eyes in front of you, not caring if he could see that. Eddie definitely had an advantage in this game.
Eddie pulled away from you, grabbing onto your hand to pull you up from the chair, which made you center yourself into reality once more. Maybe it was the alcohol, it definitely was that, but that growing need was in your belly again. Why now when you’re with friends? This doesn’t happen when you are hanging out with them, or it shouldn’t. You slid your foot back onto the shoe that Eddie took off, feeling the heat at the tip of your toes.
“Of course I was going to win.” Eddie says as he tries to push his nervousness away, walking towards the drinks to take a sip from one glass. Act nonchalant, act like there is no tension in the air and everything will be fine. He had to act as if he wasn’t going to kiss you right then and there in front of everyone else.
Robin was looking at you, trying to hide a smile while sipping her glass as you looked down, heading to grab a glass of your own. You shouldn’t drink anymore, but your throat was dry so you took just one more sip, and that’s all. Maybe that burning feeling would go away, it must be the alcohol producing it, and you say it like a mantra, to make sure that it’s real.
“I think the best stripper would be her if she dared to do so. I just have a feeling.” Billy says while pointing at you, squinting his eyes as he looks down at you, and that makes you smile, the tension in your shoulders disappearing for a second.
“Oh, now that would be dangerous.” Eddie says as he takes a sip while looking down at you as well, and you catch his eyes, a playful look on them, a hint of something you are not distasteful of, and you smirk up at him, feeling yourself burst with sudden excitement.
“You afraid I’ll take all your clients away?” You ask and he cocks an eyebrow up at the shift of your tone, the confident voice you just blurted out of your lips almost knocking him to the ground as he squinted slightly at you.
“They’re all women.” He says and you shrug, looking at Robin.
“Would the ladies like me?” You ask and Robin smiles, winking at you over her glass.
“Definitely.” You give Eddie a triumphant smile as he rolled his eyes, but deep in his mind he was imagining things. Oh, so many things. Things he shouldn’t think about with you. Things he should run away from, but even so, he knows it’s too late for it. He knows it, and even if there is a part of him that wants to run away from it, he also wants to embrace it.
“Robin, make me another one of these.” Steve slightly slurs as Billy nods and hands his glass towards Robin. Eddie does not, sipping his last drink of the night as he watched you not drinking anymore either. He has questions afterall, so many, and you were not going to leave until you’ve answered them. Maybe it was to appease his mind, maybe it was because he needed reassurance of some sort. Maybe it was because he wanted to know if your date failed.
And he hoped, even if evil, that it did.
“Shh!” Eddie says as you both walk upstairs. You were holding in your giggles as you gave a final look at the plastered and passed out Steve, sleeping on the floor with a pillow under his head, Robin resting her head on the small of his back, salivating it completely, while Billy snored on the couch with his jacket over his face.
They had three more glasses of whatever concoction Robin made, and it took no more than an hour for them to simply pass out drunk. Eddie and you had quit long ago, still a little fuzzy from alcohol but nothing like the people in the living room. You follow him into his room, and you realize that you’ve never been in there before. You walked in with an awe look on your face, looking around and Eddie leaned against the doorway, smiling while crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you as you inspected his room.
His room was dark colored, some posters hung on the walls, from different bands that he had mentioned he liked, completely different to the ones you liked, but you didn’t mind listening to his music every once in a while. A large bed was in the middle of it, covered in black comforters, because of course it was going to be all dark. Your eyes glanced at his desk, seeing various notebooks piled up and what looked like a folder.
You walk towards it, and read the top of it. ‘Hellfire Club’ and a logo of a demon with dice all around. You are guessing this is his Dungeon Master guide. He had mentioned his high school club to you, and you also knew he took the role seriously whenever he got together with his old friends. Your eyes caught on something on the desk and your eyes bulged out of your sockets, taking the frame in your hands.
“Oh my god… Is this you?!” You ask excitedly as you look at a young Eddie with a buzz cut on his head, missing tooth, smiling next to Wayne with a fish in their hands. Eddie winced at how quick you found that picture, but he was actually quite fond of it, hence why he kept it and even had it on display.
“Yeah. My old man made me cut it. Told me long hair is not very… manly.” His eyes drifted to the floor and you looked at him, realizing this is not a topic he likes to discuss. You knew little to nothing about Eddie’s family, apart from Wayne, Claudia and Dustin, and it seemed he preferred to keep it that way with you. But it was okay, they were the only ones that you really cared to know about, because they cared about Eddie.
“If he saw you now, he would eat his words, wouldn’t he?” Eddie chuckled at that, looking up at you again, his breath taken away when you were fondly smiling at him. He didn’t realize it before, but his heart rate had picked up a pace the moment you walked into the room with no problems at all.
“Okay, now that we’re alone.” He steps inside, closing the door behind him, and you feel yourself grow hot on your cheeks and your chest at the realization you are actually alone, in his room, with him. You had to take a deep breath in, he was your friend, this is no different than all the other times you’ve been alone with him. “Care to tell me what happened with your date?”
You closed your eyes as you sighed. Your mood lowered in an instant as soon as he asked that question to you. There was anger in your chest, but also uncertainty, and with a lot of doubt. You knew the question would pop up at some point, because you showed up unannounced, didn’t say anything, and acted as if nothing happened today.
“It just… It wasn’t what I thought it would be.” You blushed slightly at your response, not wanting him to think you were a picky person, but maybe you were.
“Angel, gotta give me more than that. You didn’t look happy at all when you came in here.” He walked towards you to get a hold of your shoulder for you to look up at him. He gave a nod to his bed, motioning you to sit down with him at the edge of it, next to one another. He took off his boots and you looked down at your bare feet. You had taken yours off downstairs, feeling a little cramped from wearing them too long.
“I– I don’t know…” You weren’t looking at him, and his gut turned at the nervousness in your voice. He was afraid something was done to you without your consent, but you didn’t seem nervous with him or with the guys before, so that theory kind of runs thin.
“Sweetheart, did he say something? Or did he do something you didn’t like?” He asked you and your eyes widened, shaking your head at him with surprised eyes.
“No, no, he was… He was sweet, and he was easy to talk to…” He held your gaze, trying to read you as his brows furrowed in confusion, as well as his fist clenched against his knee.
“Then…? I don’t understand what happened.” He reminds you, once more, and you sigh heavily as you hide your face in your hands, resting your elbows on your knees, bending forward.
“I just– He was attractive, he was, I know it! I was so nervous, super nervous, and we talked about Harry Potter, and music, and food, and we’re so fucking alike and…” You didn’t know where you were going with this, but you were trying to explain what’s going on in your head, you really are, but you also feel embarrassed to do so, to say it to him.
“I am… still a little bit lost darling.” He was really confused, and he cannot even read what’s going on with you. This new side of you is baffling him, because you were easy to read before, see what was on your mind because of your eye movements, or tug on your lips. Now, he cannot really say what’s happening to you, and that kind of bothers him, annoys him really.
“I— God, I can’t say it to you. I just– I just thought it was going to be different than what I expected.” You say putting your hands down and he could finally see how bashful you looked, embarrassed, and he wanted to know why you were feeling in such a way.
“You can tell me anything Angel. If it means it can help you understand yourself, then I am more than willing to listen to you.” He softly says and you slowly turn your head to look at him, finding understanding and care in his features. Your heart was in your throat as you felt the blood flow even more towards your cheeks. You looked down at your fingers again, playing with one of your silver rings to distract yourself.
“Okay I– I um… I know there’s supposed to be… something else. When I kissed him, and it was a good kiss even, I just–”
“You kissed him?” Oh his own heart felt like exploding right now. He knew the vein in his forehead was about to pop off, but he didn’t care. He felt like a punch was delivered towards the side of his body, but he gulped the green vile forming, clenching tightly onto his knee again.
“Yeah– He kissed me first, and it was good, really good!” You weren’t looking at him, still down at your fingers so you weren’t able to see the redness that got into Eddie’s face as you said those words. “But… I didn’t– I expected… sparks? Or… Fire?”
That got the green monster to vanish away from Eddie’s body. He gave a slow nod in thought as you explained, and he came to a simple conclusion, that he knew you weren’t experienced with it because you never felt it.
“You weren’t attracted to him.” You blinked at that with a confused frown on your face and finally looked up at him.
“But he was attractive.” You defend and he shakes his head at you with a soft smile on his face.
“It doesn’t mean you will automatically be attracted to them. For example, Billy, you don’t find him attractive.” He frowned at his words in thought, and his brain turned its gears by itself, noticing you were still looking at him, without answering. “You’re not attracted to Billy, right?”
“Oh! No! I see him as a friend.” You replied in surprise and he smiled in return, his heart jumping in excitement at your answer.
“Attraction has to do more with… a person. Sure, you can feel attracted to a guy who is attractive only by sight, but maybe when you get to know him, it’s not what you expected.” You frowned at that, tilting your head to the side to look towards the ground as your thoughts started processing in your head.
Austin was perfect. He liked your music, pop, rock, some jazz probably, then the food, it was almost the same, except for your liking on putting fries on a milkshake, or anchovy pizza. Then the Harry Potter talk was smooth, charming, and it felt as if you were talking with…
With a friend.
“Oh…” Was all you managed to say and Eddie knew you finally understood the meaning of it. “Oh, that sucks, and I even shaved.” You slump again with a sigh, not even registering what you just said, until a second later you did. Your eyes went wide in realization, slowly turning to look at him whose mouth was open with a bewildered look in his face.
Did you say you shaved? You, who had problems with kissing just two weeks ago, suddenly had the bravery of sleeping with someone on the first date? What happened in the past two weeks that he hadn’t noticed for you to suddenly become bold like that?
“I-I…” You were red in the face and the nerves were getting to you, so, the words started vomiting out of your mouth, without processing at all in your head. “I just been very needy lately, out of nowhere, and it never happened before, and I don’t know, maybe now that I can finally talk to guys, that need reappeared and it’s been so fucking long and I don’t know–”
“Whoa, whoa, hang on, slow down, please.” He was overwhelmed by the sudden information you were giving to him and he was trying to process it all by closing his eyes to take a deep breath in. Needy. You were needy. And that is not doing good things to him right now. He is thinking of so many things in such a rushed pace that he cannot swallow it all down in one go.
You looked down, biting the skin next to your nail on your thumb, trying to appease some of the nerves and the nausea that was whirling in your stomach, ready to get out and make an even more fool out of yourself. How could you just blurt that out to him? Why did you do that?
“F-Forget what I said– Please–” You made him snap out of his thoughts, with a shake of his head and even if his stomach was about to explode in a million pieces and he cursed at himself as the blood was starting to slowly rush south on him.
“Calm down, it’s fine, just– So, you thought that it would be a good opportunity to…” He didn’t even finish the words, not wanting to imagine the outcome of you actually going with that chance. You swallowed the big lump in your chest, but his eyes were looking into yours, looking for understanding, for you to try to explain yourself to him.
Making you feel safe.
“I– Yes… I just thought that… If I– slept with someone who I found attractive then… I would feel good…” And there it was. Eddie’s eyes saddened as you looked down at the floor again. You just confessed to him that in none of the times you were intimate with a man, you felt good. “I know they tried… I remember them trying, but, when you are not attracted to the person, your mind is not really– Not into it.”
And Eddie’s eyes flickered with something, a switch was pressed inside of him as he looked down at your frame, defeated, and thinking something was wrong with you. He didn’t want you to feel that way, not for a single second. His hands were burning as he raised one towards your thigh, pressing it gently on top. You shivered at the sudden touch, looking down at the rings that grasped your thigh.
“What you need to do is shut your brain. You think too much about what the other person is doing, and who the person is, when sometimes you don’t have to think of any of those things, because maybe those guys you’ve been with, at least one probably did a good job, but you were too caught up in your mind that you didn’t let yourself go with it.” He explained softly, as calmly as possible for you and your eyes widened slightly at that.
You’re always in your mind, even when you’re touching yourself. That’s why you never remember who you’re picturing or if you’re even imagining something at all, and maybe that’s why it takes you too long to finally reach that peak you look for. But how do you get out of your mind? How do you make it stop processing any kind of thought?
“I… I don’t know how to do that, Eds…” His eyes closed at the nickname, feeling the sweetness in his tongue at it. He bit the inside of his cheek as he opened his eyes again to look at you. His control was slowly slipping away, he knew it, because the idea that came to his head, the thought of it, the craziness of it, was driving him mad with desire. He was nervous to ask, he was nervous, for the first time in his life in making a move. But it could help you, that’s what he keeps repeating to himself.
Everything is in order to help you.
His hand on your thigh slowly raised up, getting hold of your jaw with his thumb and index finger, making you slowly turn to look at him, and your eyes widened at seeing him much closer than before. Your breathing was caught in your throat as he stared down at you, his lips slightly agape, and you could swear you could hear the beat of your heart bouncing at every wall in the room.
“Let me teach you Angel.” He softly said, and you froze.
Is he meaning what you think he is meaning? But friends don’t do this, friends are just friends like you were with Robin, Steve and Billy. Maybe he is just helping you, no, you’re sure he is just helping you. No other intention involved to that, and you have to push him away. You have to say no, you have to deny it, you have to reject it, because there’s no possible way he would willingly do this.
But there was a fog in his pupils, something you don’t think ever saw before, not when men looked at you, but Eddie it’s not the first time you’ve seen it. You wondered if your eyes looked the same, if your eyes were showing him that feeling you cannot describe by yourself, that desire you had been feeling of wanting more.
“I’ll help you shut your mind off. So… Please– Please let me make you feel good.”
Your heart almost stopped beating at his words.
He was begging and he knew that, but if he didn’t have a taste of you now, in any way, his mind was going to fail him. He was sure he was gonna go crazy if he couldn’t touch you, whether be with his fingers, with his palms, with a graze of his arm against yours, or with his lips.
His lips were inching closer to you, but you knew that without approval he was not going to kiss you. Because it was Eddie. Eddie who’s always been careful with you. Eddie who made you laugh on stressful days at work. Eddie who also came to you for his own bad days. Eddie who always makes you feel safe no matter what you’re doing or where you are.
And you wanted more. More since that night. More since his lips touched yours days ago, counting the hours and minutes to feel something like that again. It was just the feeling of it you wanted, that’s what you kept telling yourself, what you KEEP telling yourself just to save it all. Just to save this line. A line that if you crossed, you might end up hurt.
But right now, his words are the only thing that you could think about. And you felt it. You felt what you were seeking with Austin, what you couldn’t feel, what you felt in the living room, what you felt by yourself in your room.
Burning.
You gave him a short and slow nod, something he really was not expecting, but he wasn’t going to question you on it. He was going to be greedy, he knew this, he knew he was being selfish, but can you blame him? You were on his bed, wearing a short black dress, your shoulder exposed for him to bite on, your skin glistening for him to kiss it, your neck decorated with a thin golden necklace, which also had a sweet scent emanating from it.
So he leaned down, his palm pressing on your cheek, pulling you into him, pressing his lips against yours, once again. Your heart was elated, gleaming with excitement and happiness and your brain had to work again, despite the haziness and despite the turning of your stomach, and you returned the kiss.
Your hands twitched on your knees, wanting to grab onto him, wanting to touch him, wanting him to be closer and you didn’t know if you should. As his lips moved with yours, you felt yourself moving closer to him, just one single scooch, just one simple movement that impulsed him, eager, to hold your other cheek with his free hand, cradling you in them.
You felt his fingers sliding a bit towards the back of your head, his fingertips on your nape, sending electricity to places you never felt before. Your blood was rushing to your ears, but you could still hear the smacking of your lips in the room, and even if your mind was telling you to be embarrassed, that you should be, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel it. Because the way he was kissing you, the feeling he was igniting in you, was way bigger than your nerves, than your embarrassment, than your bashfulness.
He ran his tongue on your bottom lip, and this time you didn’t even hesitate to allow his entrance. He groaned into your mouth as his tongue touched yours, and that sound must have been the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard in your life, and he was just kissing you. Was that a good sign? Was he feeling the burning you were feeling as well?
He couldn’t stop tasting you, he couldn’t stop kissing you, you were addicting, like the ambrosia the gods had promised, and he didn’t believe he would ever get enough of it. Of you. He definitely can’t get enough of you, it was not possible. Your tongue was shy, but soft, following his movements, making him go crazier each second the kiss turned even more heavier than before.
He pulled away slowly, to your dismay, because you wanted to keep kissing him, not realizing your thighs were clenching together as your hands gripped onto your skin. He inspected you for a second, his breath a little heavy as he pressed a peck to your lips again, and you were surprised by that gentle touch, until his next kiss was on your cheek. Then, he kissed your jaw, all sweet and soft kisses but that were burning you in every possible good way.
His hands went away from your cheeks, and one rested on the back of your head, gently gripping on your hair to pull your neck back, making your eyes go wide and your stomach turn with a sudden flip. He noticed how you tensed at the movement and he was going to tell you to stop, that he will back off. But he was selfish, so fucking selfish.
“Don’t think… Close your eyes Angel, and let yourself feel.” And with that, he pressed a soft, nervous kiss on your pulse point. That was enough to send a shiver down your spine, goosebumps emerging on your arms, and you knew you had to hold onto him. Your hand shot to the back of his head, and he was surprised that you were touching him right now, yet, a smile appeared on his lips and he hoped you couldn’t feel it, glad you couldn’t see it.
Because that would give him away.
He pressed another kiss on your neck, this time more firmly, tasting your perfume in his tongue, making him go even madder than before, the small string of his self control ready to snap. Your mind was a jumbled mess, but the burning was unbearable now. It was all over your body, but it was even more intense on where he was kissing.
He tested the waters, by nibbling once and gently on your skin, and he felt you shiver, moving him slightly in response. Oh he was loving your reactions to him. He has to make you feel good. He has to. He needs to. Because his imagination of how you would react to him touching you, worshiping you, caring for you, was making him even more desperate to have you.
Your mind was slowly turning hazy as you felt him suddenly sucking on your pulse point, and that made a small moan get caught in your throat, vibrating against his lips. And that was it for Eddie. His free hand finally raised from his knee, to move towards your exposed one, gently touching it with his fingertips first, before his palm fully rested on top of it.
Your thighs clenched again and he noticed. He was making you feel like this, he was making you tremble slightly, by the grace of his lips, by his touch, and, god, he needed more. His hand started moving up and you felt everything you felt an hour ago, but this time, it heightened because of the kisses he was leaving on the skin of your neck.
His fingertips were on your thigh and he pressed them tentatively against your skin, and you jumped slightly at the pressure. Your eyes were closed as you felt him suck on your neck again, but a little lower this time. His lips moved closer to your collarbone, leaving a gentle yet scorching kiss there, and you gasped when you felt him bite where your bone would be.
He was holding his own groans back, and he knew you would be able to see the growing hardness in his pants. He didn’t want you to think this was about him, no, this was all about you, on teaching you to enjoy yourself, teaching you how to feel, teaching you that anyone can make you feel good.
That HE can make you feel good.
He pulled away from you and you almost whined at the loss of contact, missing his warm breath against your skin but he had to check on you, know if you wanted to keep moving forward with him. He gulped when you looked down on him, half lidded eyes that were almost lost in the sensations he just gave you. He wanted to smirk to himself, a victory in his chest forming at seeing you coming undone under his hands.
“You alright darling?” His voice was low, sending a chill down your body, almost trembling in his hands as he held you. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted him to kiss your neck again, you wanted more. You gave him a slow nod and he had to even out his breath so you wouldn’t notice his excitement. “Come here.”
He got on the bed, sliding towards the head of it, to sit against his headboard with his legs open, flexing his knees. Your eyes widened when you saw him like that, but you were magnetized to him, as if you were in a drunken state. He patted his inner thigh, motioning you to go to him and that you did, crawling on all fours towards him and he almost moaned, literally moaned at that sight.
He was going crazy about you, he knew that, every move you made was like a stab in his heart, in his groin, just any part of his body, and when you were crawling like that, he was even more afraid of what he could possibly do. Of what he was capable of doing. But he cared too much about you, that’s why, he is only helping you for now.
Your eyes were trained on his and when you finally arrived in front of him, he held your shoulders to turn you around, making you sit in between his legs, your back almost pressing against his chest. Your legs were tight together, straight in front of you. Your stomach was almost hurting from the amount of knotting that was happening, and you were afraid of popping your liver or something. It was too straining.
“Now, here’s what I want you to do Angel…” He pushed your hair away from your right shoulder, and you trembled when you felt his lips press on your bare skin, goosebumps raising on your arms as you listened to him. His right hand came to press onto your thigh again, grazing it with his fingertips. “I want you to fully disconnect from your brain.”
“Eddie–” Doubt was starting to fill in your head again, the line being there, the line that you don’t want to cross, and the line that you don’t want to break because of this.
“No, no… Don’t think. Just feel, heighten your sense of touch…” He started tracing his fingers upwards on your thigh, shivers being sent towards your legs as you looked down at his movements. His lips were suddenly pressed in between your shoulder and neck, making you gasp as his other hand, pressed on the other side of your neck, tilted your head to the side to give him more access to your skin.
His right hand pressed more firmly against your skin now, slowly trying to get in between your thighs. You felt suddenly a wave of heat rush through you, your skin burning from how flustered you suddenly got and he noticed once again by how you tense your shoulders.
“I– I don’t know–” But you wanted to. You wanted to know, but your head was working again, unlike a few minutes ago. He shook his head slightly, whispering low into your ear, his breath hitting just right to make you almost whimper and tremble at the feeling.
“Feel me. Feel me touching your skin, feel my lips on your neck, the sensation it causes. Don’t think about me, just feel.” And his hand finally nudged in between your thighs as he pressed a kiss right below your ear, making a moan get trapped in your throat again. He pulled you flush against his chest now, as his hand started pushing your leg open.
The knots in your stomach went crazy now, thinking of what he was doing, feeling the fire on his fingertips. He was spreading your legs open, and that made you realize that the heat was below. It had always been deep in your belly, yearning, wanting, desiring. The need you’ve been feeling all this time was multiplied by a hundred right now, and you wanted it to be over, because it was unbearable.
So, you helped him, by spreading your legs open, your knees hitting his as you pulled them up.
He smirked as he glanced down, feeling you breathing heavily against him. This was it, you were trusting him, completely giving yourself to him, and he had to make a decision. He could stop, he could go back to just being a friend that helps here and there, but no more than that, not this.
Or he could keep being selfish.
He sucked on your sweet spot, making you groan slightly, but it was a way to distract you from when his fingers started caressing your inner thigh. Soft, grazing his fingertips, giving a soft press as he felt your legs move slightly at his touch.
“Can I make you feel good?” He whispered against your skin, for just one last approval, because even if he had his own desire, his own selfishness, greediness, you were always going to be first. Always putting you first, above all. You let out a content breath, knowing this, knowing he was caring for you. You gave a final nod, and that’s all he needed.
He raised the hem of your dress even more, because it had moved up when he was touching your inner thighs, but he needed more access. He slowly moved his hand as his lips nibbled on your shoulder, until he finally felt the lace of your underwear, and his eyes almost widened when he pressed a bit more onto it.
You were wet. Completely, and for him.
He took a deep breath in, trying to not think about how painful his hard on was in his pants, and finally cupped you through your underwear, making you gasp and almost jerk out of his grasp. It wasn’t even a full on touch, it was soft, and gentle, yet it had provoked a feeling inside of you that was too intense, but you needed more, god, you needed more.
Desperately.
“Eddie– Please…” And he couldn’t believe the words leaving your mouth, because you were asking him to go forward, asking him to move faster, and he was going to comply. He wanted nothing more than to please you, fully, entirely, until you couldn’t breathe normally.
He finally started tracing circles against your clothed clit, slow, small, and you tilted your head back, eyes closed, resting against his shoulder. Your breathing became more erratic as you felt his lips against your neck again, his tongue licking on your skin as his movements became faster, one of your hands raised to cover your mouth so that the moans wouldn’t come out, while the other was gripping onto his thigh tightly.
“No, nothing of that.” He took his hand away from your neck to grab onto the wrist that was over your mouth. You gasped at his actions, wanting to hold back on your noises and he raised his lips against your ear again, grazing them against the skin now. “Letting go means your voice as well.”
You were never vocal, you didn’t even know if they were nice, or if they were just horrible and embarrassing, but all thought was cut off when you felt his fingertips on the edge of your underwear, pulling the elastic up so they could move under the fabric. Your heart stopped when you felt him, raw, against your clit, and you let out the first small moan out of your lips, almost a whimper.
And Eddie lost it.
He attacked your neck again, this time, more forcefully than before as his index and middle finger started circling on your bud, wanting to hear more of those moans, wanting to feel you move against him even more, wanting you to completely lose yourself. You were wet, too perfectly wet for him, and he was trying really hard to keep a straight mind but it was becoming a losing battle with each moan that came out of your mouth.
He ran his fingers down, through your wet folds and you gave a breathy sigh, your chest trembling at the sensation of it. You never felt this, not even with yourself, because you never really cared to explore. You just put on the vibrator on your clit and waited, and waited, but recently you didn’t have to wait much, for the past few weeks, your climaxes came quicker than before.
He coated his fingers in your slick, wetting them properly as he kissed under your ear again to keep your sensations going all over the place. He wanted to touch your breasts as well, he wanted to see them, he really needed to pull your dress down, but he knew that would take this whole thing somewhere else, and even if he desperately wanted to, he was keeping his word on just making YOU feel good.
Your eyes widened when you felt his middle finger slowly thrusting inside of you, making way, spreading you gently, but it was enough for you to arch your back slightly, wanting more of it, more of the friction it was bringing and Eddie smirked against your skin at your reaction. He started moving, slowly, in and out, testing how you moved and reacted, but then your moans increased a little bit in volume.
He didn’t care about the people in the living room, not right now. The only person he cared about right now, was you, entirely you, and as he curled his middle finger inside of you, your eyes closed once more, letting the sensation take over you as he touched a place you never felt before, you never thought that could be achieved.
“Oh, god–” You moaned out, and Eddie groaned against your shoulder, his pace increasing slightly as he felt your warm walls engulfing him, sucking him in, yearning for more, so he complied once again, and got his ring finger inside as well.
Your belly was on fire as you felt the sudden stretch, and you couldn’t help it, you really couldn’t, you wanted more and more, so you met the thrusting of his fingers with your hips, making them go even deeper inside of you, your moans now coming out of your mouth loud, and breathless.
“Fuck–” Eddie couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of you, arching your back against him, and he wondered if you could feel him. If you could feel the throbbing bulge that was on his jeans, rubbing against you. If you kept doing it, he was going to finish in his pants, he knew it, but he didn’t care. He really didn’t care.
His fingers curled upwards again, and now he wasn’t thrusting in and out any more, but actually pressing the palm of his hand against your clit, while his fingers were still inside, and his movements started going up and down. Your mouth fell open as he started hitting that part of you no one has ever touched before, while rubbing your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation and your nails dug into his clothed thigh.
He told you to not think of him, but his sweet scent was on your nostrils, his lips were on your skin, his breath was on your ear, but it didn’t stop you from feeling. It didn’t stop you from letting go either. In fact, knowing it was him, knowing that his fingers were doing things you never thought anyone could do to you, and knowing he was the one making you feel good, was making you desperate, and you were loving every second of it.
Your eyes started seeing stars, clouding your vision in white, and your stomach was tightening on itself as your legs trembled in anticipation of your incoming climax. He could feel it, your walls clenching on his fingers, driving him mad, absolutely insane. His pace quickened as he bit onto your neck softly, giving it a kiss afterwards as your moans filled the room. But you almost made him freeze in place because he had not expected to hear it, because he had told you to not think of him, yet–
“Eddie– Eddie, please–” You were moaning his name, begging him to help you with your release, begging him to keep going, and he couldn’t take it anymore, letting go of your hand, with his arm wrapped around you, taking your jaw in his hand, turning your head so he could kiss you, passionately, desperate for your moans to fill his mouth.
Your moans flew immediately into his throat, growing even louder, hiding the wet noises he was provoking with the movement of his fingers, kissing him, making your release want to explode even quicker than before, heightening the feeling.
Your breaths became short gasps as your belly finally exploded, your walls clenching around his fingers and your back arched completely into his hand. He didn’t let go of your face, holding you tightly so you wouldn’t move away, swallowing your moans and whimpers, a moan of his own mixing with yours at the feeling.
Your eyes had tears from the overwhelming sensation as he slowed his pace with his fingers, feeling you slowly unclench, helping you ride the last bit of your orgasm out, until you finally relaxed against him again. He pulled away from the kiss, but kept his face close to you as you rested your head against his shoulder, your nose in the crook of his neck.
Your breathing was heavy and your mind was a complete mess. You never felt like that in your life, in any sense or any way, but maybe you had an idea of why that was. He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, your trembling legs finally falling down, splayed on the bed this time. He had let go of your jaw and wrapped his arm around you to keep you close to him, not caring any longer if you felt him.
He looked at the glistening of his fingers and clenched his eyes against the desire of tasting you, wiping them against his comforter. He was also breathing heavily, from all the emotions he felt in past minutes, or hour. He never felt that good pleasuring someone else, never in his life, always waiting for the other to reciprocate.
This time, he didn’t need to. He didn’t want you to. He just wanted you to feel good, by him, and him only. He opened his mouth to talk to you, but felt the soft breaths against his neck, and the raising and falling of your chest. You had fallen asleep on him.
He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, his hand still wrapped around your frame as it guided itself up, cradling your head against his shoulder. He turned his head and he even surprised himself with his action, pressing a kiss at the top of your head.
But then, a frown came to his face. He had crossed the line. You two had crossed the line. He wondered what everything would be like after this, how you would be like after what just happened. Would you act like nothing has happened? His heart pained at that thought, his stomach turning as he thought, and thought, and when you mumbled his name against his skin, sleepily, he chuckled softly, shaking his head at himself.
There was no way he was going to act as if nothing happened.
Everything happened.
And he wanted more.
End of part 5
A/N: Yes, I did imagine Austin Butler for this. Sue me. I hope you all enjoyed this part! There's more to come, angst coming your way bby. I know it was long BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THAT A REBLOG KEEPS THE FIC ACTIVE
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Chokehold - Ch. 8
Chokehold Masterlist
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Pairing: Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 7,577
Warning: Swearing, adult themes, my bad attempt at wriiting flirting, lots of tension of multiple types, choking, and good ol’ Butcher himself.
A/N: I know, I know, It's been too damn long. And so is this chapter, longest one to date. Despite it being, in my opinion, kind of all over the place, I really hope you guys enjoy.
Scalding and fresh from the pot, the coffee glimmers like a black mirror in your work mug. Your reflection peers up at you but you're too elsewhere to notice it, its pensive glare or the hint of fatigue on its face. It mimics your dazed pose, one hand on the cupboard handle above you in the break room.
"It's not a magic eight ball."
You jerk, finding Hughie entering the break room beside you. He looks split between amused and mildly concerned at you. "What?"
"Your coffee," he gestures, side-stepping you to rummage for his lunch in the fridge. "You're staring at it like it's got all the answers or something."
With a shake of your head, you pull yourself out of your daze, rummaging through the cupboard for the fixings for your drink. "Wouldn't that be nice?," you sigh. "Caffeine fix and all my questions answered in one little mug."
Hughie settles at the table as you deposit your drink there and fetch your own food. "You wanna talk about it?"
You can't help but stiffen a little as you dig through the fridge, and hope he doesn't notice. Talk about it? About how this morning you'd woken up in a sweat, disoriented at finding yourself lying on your back instead of straddling the subtle v of Butcher's hips? Talk about the brutal shock of cold shower spray and chattering teeth it took to zap you back to reality?
Or talk about the nerves coffee couldn't fix but now made worse? You were strung on a tightrope of mild dread and anticipation for tonight's upcoming jiu jitsu lesson. After feeling his eyes burning along your spine, you were just a bit nervous of how Butcher planned to go forward from here.
"Just a lot on my mind," you shrug, taking up the chair next to him.
He gives a brief glance at the doorway as you shuffle out a sandwich then asks, "About future work projects?"
It's become an easy code to decipher between the two of you; the upcoming gala mission. Admittedly, it's another gnawing concern of yours. So you nod. "Yeah, a bit. There's some minor details that got me thinking."
"Like?," he asks quietly.
You pull your phone out of your pocket, opening it to the text from MM you'd been reading just before you'd zoned out. Hughie takes it, eyes quickly absorbing the vague message there. His brow furrows. "Um…am I missing something here?"
"It's a little info on the work project," you answer.
"Okay. Again, am I missing something?" He subtly peers about once more and lowers his voice. "It's stuff you'd find on an invitation. Venue, time, dress code-"
"Bingo," you sourly cut him off into your mug.
Hughie lets out a laugh. "Wait…A dress code? You're getting rattled by a black tie dress code?"
"Yes, exactly. Black tie. That means I have to wear an evening dress."
"You've worn dresses before," he replies between bites of his food. "Why is this any different? What's special about an evening dress?"
You rub at the bridge of your nose and sigh. "It's not about wearing a dress. It's about wearing a full-length dress, and heels, which are mandatory for black tie. And those are extremely impractical in shitty situations. Like not having full range of motion, or being able to run! I…" You lower your voice in admittance. "...I don't like potentially not being able to protect myself."
Hughie's face drops for a second as he takes that in. Then places a hand on your shoulder. "Okay, that makes more sense. I don't like that either. Hey, what if I talk to Annie?"
"Annie?," you ask, perplexed.
"Her whole job is about kicking ass in a costume, right?" He flashes a lop-sided grin. "I'll ask her if she can stop by and see you after work sometime. I'm sure she'd have more than a few pointers to share. It'd get her out of the tower for a bit. You find something that you'll pass dress code and feel more comfortable in. I think it'd be a win-win."
"And they say you're not the smart one," you wink. "I appreciate that, Hughie."
"Don't mention it. Do you want me to see if she's available tonight?"
You shake your head. "No," you reply after swallowing a thick bite of food. "Already got plans. Maybe night after next."
"Y/N's got plans? Somebody call the five o'clock news."
You and Hughie both find Victoria leaning in the doorway. A knot flips in your stomach and you do your best to not look suspicious as she strides in. She leans on the table, and you give her a little wave between bites.
"I know, right?," Hughie chimes in, jumping in before it can get weird. "I was just…offering her and Annie an opportunity to cut loose. Girls night, or whatever."
"Aren't you sweet? Good luck getting this work horse to slow down, though," Victoria says as she nods in your direction. Then turns fully to you. "Must be good if you're postponing an all-nighter in the cases. Don't tell me…" She wiggles an eyebrow at you. "Hot date, perhaps?"
You can't help a nervous snicker before shaking your head. "No," you answer into a napkin. "No, not a date."
"Now that's a shame," she says with a playful pout. "Here I thought somebody finally recognized your worth. God knows what I'd do without you."
"You joining us for lunch?," Hughie interjects.
"I'm afraid not," the congresswoman sighs. "I was going to ask Y/N to take some pressing cases over to your team to work on tonight. But maybe you could pick them up, Hughie?"
"I can still drop them off, at least. Before I call it a night," you shrug. "I'm not scheduled here tomorrow, so I'll be there most of the day anyway. I can start on them first thing in the morning."
"See?," Victoria waves in your direction before standing. "Like I said - work horse. I'll have one of the interns drop them by your desk before you clock out tonight. But I insist you wait till tomorrow to start on them. I'll cut you some slack, just this once." Then mutters as she turns for the door, "God knows Butcher doesn't know the meaning of the word."
"You never know. He has his good days," you call after her.
She pauses just outside the break room, casting you both a flat expression. "You kidding? If I had to work with him as much as you do, I think his head would explode. If not, it would definitely be mine."
After the sound of her high heels in the hall disappears, you and Hughie give each other a look. That was a little close for either of you, and you let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank God she's not a supe," you whisper into your coffee.
^^^
The rest of the work day goes by at its usual tedious pace. By the time you're flipping through the files you were to deliver, your nerves make it difficult to read through them and retain anything. Agitated, you stuff most of them into your work bag and clock out. When you get home you have just enough time to grab a bite to eat and change for the impending training session.
You settle on a small snack, something light that'll give a pep of energy, and wash it down with a glass of water. You'd quickly learned that rolling with a full stomach is not even remotely pleasant, and an empty one wasn't much better. Nerves aside, you manage to keep that little nourishment down and quickly shed your work clothes for something better suited for rolling.
You're admonishing yourself for feeling so jittery when your phone buzzes on the bed. You finish tearing the t-shirt over your head and read the new text from Frenchie.
Hughie says you have files for us. Mon couer and I left early today. We all have something for you as well. See you tomorrow, mon amie.
Will do, you promptly reply. Then almost as an afterthought, Congrats on convincing Butcher to let you off early! What kind of mood is he in now?
Frenchie's reply comes in just as you finish locking your front door behind you. No clue. He's been gone all day. Kimiko says to take it easy tonight. Or else.
The playful threat isn't what makes your shoulders tense. It's wondering what kept Butcher away from the office all day, and if it has anything to do with what you're about to walk into.
Relax!, you snap at yourself. You're reading way too much into this. You're just training. You have a job to do. Focus on the job.
Remembering that feeling of eyes on your back though makes you pick up your pace as you reach the pavement. Then quickening again when you check the time. You're going to be cutting it close. Maybe too close.
…Don't try my patience, love…
And what if I do?
You shake your head as you try to dash through the crowd over the crosswalk. That was definitely not focusing on the job. Being able to handle yourself was still one of your main priorities but this whole shift, whatever happened last night…well it's making you question your priorities.
Is that really necessary?, the little voice sneers from its corner of your brain. You're just getting awfully flirty with a handsome, murderous widower. That's all.
That makes your step falter and you manage to stay upright, but only just. Widower. After all that time and the fucking mess Vought had wrought on them, a widower. And only for a matter of months now. The fact that that feels more pressing and not the murderous part is an issue of its own entirely.
The hell am I doing? Having a crush is one thing. But this feels…a bit disrespectful. To Becca. And to him. A trickle of doubt pools in your stomach. Has he even stopped for one fucking second to grieve? Really grieve?
Not likely, the little voice whispers. Butcher feel his feelings? If it weren't for him trying to step up for Ryan, he'd be washing them away in supe blood… or smoke, drink and fuck them away. Maybe that's what this is. Maybe you're the rebound, it cackles.
You swallow with a thick, dry click. If that's true, you think as you return to the quicker pace you didn't realize you had dropped, should I care? Would that be so bad?
But that's not what you want? Is it?, the voice sneers again.
You grit your teeth and ignore it, willing the constant noise around you to drown it out. You've got a job to do. You have supes to hunt, Hughie to convince, and people counting on you to do your part, play your role. And you have no time nor room to question your role with Butcher.
For all of your sakes.
^^^
The elevator feels particularly slow as it ascends to the office. It takes some effort but you keep from tapping your foot like an impatient child. It was five after eight when you had entered the building, and you had questioned Butcher's definition of punctual the moment the elevator doors had closed. Just how many minutes could you push it tonight?
The familiar ding finally comes and you dash out for the office doors. Your hand wraps around the handle and you burst in. Only instead of into the office you burst into the door. You jolt from the shock to your shoulder, glaring at the handle when it doesn't turn. You glance up and find, to your surprise, that there are no lights on inside. It's locked tight.
Perplexed, you fish out your keys and find your copy to unlock the stubborn handle. You can't help a scoff at the sight of the vacant office. "Don't be late," you mutter in your best Butcher impression, which is laughable at best. "Boss me, ditch work all day, and not even be on time? Oh I'm gonna give you shit for that…"
You open the door just enough to side-step in, fingers skittering along the wall for the light switch. It crosses your mind that maybe something had held him up, that something might have happened to him. A knot of apprehension slips through the dark and coils in your chest. But you swat the thought away, no need to panic over a few minutes late. You breathe a sigh when the switch finally greets your fingertips, giving it a sharp flick…
Nothing. Just shades and shapes in the office. Even the city glow only does so much for visibility. A groan slips out as the apprehension begins to coil again, making the hairs on the back of your neck prickle slightly. You drop your bag against the wall and fumble with your phone to turn on its light, slowly tiptoeing into the room to find the breaker. "Damn it, Frenchie!," you hiss into the dark. "What did you do now?"
You only take a few shy steps in before holding the light high, hoping it would reach the far wall. A wisp of memory comes to you, telling you the breaker should be closer to the front of the office. Surely Frenchie would have had the courtesy to tell you there were technical issues, knowing you were dropping by!
You pause. You suddenly realize if he had forgotten, Kimiko certainly would have reminded him, or text you herself. Standing stock still, light still glaring into the space, another realization creeps over you, thick as the uncanny silence.
The hairs on the back of your neck aren't prickling now. They're standing on end.
Click.
You're just whirling to run for the door when a thick arm wraps about your neck, a hand clapping tight over your mouth. In a snap you're back at the warehouse as you frantically squirm, it'd been just like this, it's happening again! Panic bursts hot in your chest for a split second before a tug of muscle memory kicks. Do something!, it screams.
You try to yank on the arm round your neck, go for a hip throw. It gives you perhaps centimeters to breathe but you weren't fast enough, you're not throwing them forward. At your attempt, your attacker yanks hard, dragging you backwards across the floor.
Adapt! Fight!
You try to drop, lower your center of gravity, make the bastard work for it! Again, they yank, this time picking you clear off the floor. You shift your hips as you're lifted up, swinging hard to plant your feet back as far as you can. When they hit the floor again you scramble, hooking an ankle around the back of your attacker's leg. They stumble and it gives you just what you need; you facing opposite your attacker, their arm in your grip. If they're not going to go forward, then you're taking them backwards.
You shift your hips, shoving them hard into where you guess is the bastard's back, and pull with a yell, adrenaline-fueled force far greater than in practice. The sound of impact booms across the hardwood and a twist of angry satisfaction flits through you at the groan of pain that follows. But it's brief, you turn and scramble hopefully away, utterly disoriented in the dark. You spot your phone, light still on, and the door behind it, like a lighthouse beacon.
You barely manage two steps before your ankle is snatched. Your hands protest against the solid contact with the floor, your face barely missing the same fate as the wind is nearly knocked from you. Fingers stretching fast, you just get the phone in your hand before you're yanked back. Muscle memory kicks in again - Not your back! Don't give them your back! - and you twist off your stomach as you kick blindly-!
Blind! Blind them!
You turn the light towards the attacker, pulling back your free leg again, ready to break their goddamn nose as your own eyes try to adjust. Past the flares and dots swimming in your vision you grit your teeth and face-!
Butcher.
Your jaw drops, and he recoils, squinting in the bluish glare for just a split second. Then he swats the phone out of your hand, sending it across the floor again. "If they're going to teach you how to read a room," he rasps, pulling you roughly until he leans over you, "they've got their fucking work out for 'em." He tsks at you, shaking his head. "Fucking stupid, love."
"You-! You-!," you rasp back. Then your lips peel back in a snarl, fists flailing at him in the dark. "You asshole! You fucking asshole! Should've fucking known!"
Your blind punches are short-lived as he manages to wrangle your arms across your chest. "Alright! Knock it off! Knock it off!" You squirm and yell before he grips your wrists tighter and leans heavy into you, making you grunt out a breath. "I said…knock it off."
"You-!" You swallow thickly, cotton-mouthed, panting. "I thought it was-. Again. The warehouse. You- you almost-! Gave me a fucking-! Panic attack!"
"I had to. And you're about to have it again if you keep fucking hyperventilating," Butcher growls. "Now breathe, goddamn it. Real slow like."
He keeps hold of your wrists and leans up enough to let you take full breaths again. You glare at him as your eyes adjust, sucking air through your nose, shakily breathing out through your mouth. Adrenaline is still white hot in your veins, spiking through your spine. Along with the anger. God, you want to throttle him! After a minute or two, you attempt to speak again.
"Had to? The hell do you mean 'had to'?"
"What I said. I had to know how you'd react in crisis. Especially if it were anything like what happened to you before."
"I think you're full of shit, but fine."
"I told ya," he says, hard and glaring back. "Over anything else I taught you, you can't lose your head."
"Well I'm off to a great start," you huff.
"Weren't that bad," Butcher shrugs. "You used your training. Even adapted that hip throw. That was good. Real good."
You blink back surprise. Maybe you're still a bit out of it…but did he just give you a little credit?
"But you still lost your head a bit, right there at the start. You panicked. That's why that first throw didn't work for shite."
And he's back. Realizing you've been in this position for a while, you shift slightly against the floor. "So what now?," you ask as he lets go of your wrists. "You jumped me, now we fix the lights and warm up? Or is that it?"
"I dunno," Butcher drawls, a mischievous curl in his lip. "You feel pretty warmed up to me."
He shifts off you, and you're grateful for the brief moment to process. Butcher had always been blunt. But you hadn't exactly expected him to openly flirt this soon. Then again when did Butcher ever do as expected? Maybe it's a tactic? Throw you off your training tonight?
"And the lights stay off," his voice cuts through your musing, as he takes one of your hands to haul you to your feet.
"Why? How am I supposed to train when I can barely see?"
"I distinctly recall telling you not to be late," he quips. "Besides, you gotta learn to adapt to conditions anyway. That gala ain't no morning brunch."
"I'm sure they paid the light bill," you utter, looking about for your phone. You locate it beaming under the lip of your desk just next to you. When you stand back up with it, you nearly jump feeling Butcher's hand slide to your lower back.
"What's matter, love?," his voice ghosts over your ear. "You afraid being all alone with me in the dark?"
The nervous giggle that titters out of your throat is borderline embarrassing, but you counter quickly, "More like afraid of getting used to not seeing that mug of yours. Might give me another panic attack when the lights come back on."
He gives a begrudging chuckle as he steps back, shifting his hand to hook lightly in the crook of your elbow. "For not being able to see, you came pretty fucking close to stomping in me mug. Turn off that torch before ya blind us again. Step this way."
You can discern outlines and you do see sections of the office where light from the hallway to the elevator and the windows is a bit brighter. But it doesn't do much to boost your confidence. "How do you see in this?," you ask sincerely, shuffling after him, hesitantly turning off your phone light.
"What? You think we do all our work in bright, shiny spaces? That those cunts want us to be able to see 'em coming?" You can just make out his head shaking. "Nah. And I would think as often as we are in this place, you'd have it mapped out like I do by now."
He stops you in one of the faint outlines of the windows on the floor. In your murky vision you see that he's already cleared the area. "Down here," he prompts, tugging on your elbow and you both sink to the hardwood.
"So are you gonna tell me what you were planning on doing with me?," you tease, nibbling on your lip when you hear a more suggestive tone than you had intended.
Butcher's long legs stretch out along either side of yours, and you feel a laugh rumble in his chest when he pulls you back into him. "I've been planning since last night. I've got plenty of ideas for you."
Christ, he's not beating around the bush is he?
You refrain from biting your lip again as you become aware of something else. With your vision impaired, your other senses are trying to compensate, to help you reorient in the room. But it's leaving your skin more attune to his proximity, the warmth radiating off him. And your hearing is gonna be the death of you. Butcher's voice had always been one of your weaknesses, and now your ears are keened in on every rough, baritone syllable, every rumble, every damn hum that passes his lips.
He's being a tease. A fucking tease!, you think with a wave of indignation. Putting those SAS interrogation tactics into a game. Bastard is trying to get me to break!
Your pulse kicks up, you feel it begin to patter a quick rhythm in your veins, against your chest. And pressed against your back, apparently Butcher can feel it too, as he loosely settles his arms around your torso. "Feeling alright there, sweetheart?," he croons with faux innocence. You can practically hear the smug look crawl over his face.
You. Fucker. A smug look of your own twitches at the corners of your mouth before you recompose. Alright, Billy. You wanna play a game of who breaks first? You're on.
"Just getting my head into training," you reply coolly. "What are we working on?"
"We're starting with this. Showing you exactly why you shouldn't let anyone take your back." His arms move up to cross snugly around your shoulders. More of a warning than anything else. His legs move over yours till he hooks his ankles just behind your knees.
"Thought you just did that when you jumped me?," you mutter.
"A little. But that was what some sloppy thug would do. If someone really wants to hurt ya, they're gonna incapacitate you first, then drag you off. So you're gonna learn a rear naked choke. How to do it, what it feels like, and how to get out of it."
"What it feels like? Why?"
Butcher's hands slide up to your shoulders. "If you're going to work with the team, get your hands dirty, you gotta learn to be uncomfortable. You've been in that cushy office at the bureau for too long. And again, you gotta learn how to act in crisis. Not gonna get out of it if you don't know what it feels like neither."
"So you're desensitizing me."
"Only to certain things," he replies slyly, draping one arm over your left shoulder. His tone becomes serious when he speaks again. "Now listen close. This is gonna be right uncomfortable. I'm gonna put the choke on you slow. You're gonna push through for as long as you can, which won't be long at all. But don't be daft about it. Tap when you need to, I fucking mean it. If I have to put you in recovery position 'cause of your ego, we'll have problems when you wake up. You understand?"
"I think I can handle a-"
"Do you understand?," he growls hot in your ear, beard scraping along the delicate skin.
You nod, then firmly answer, "I understand."
You watch Butcher's right arm slide up and across till his wrist is just across his left elbow. Then he secures it by curling his left arm back till his fingers just cup the back of your head. The action brings his right elbow to cradle your windpipe with practiced precision, your neck now firmly encased in his arm. But the muscle and bone feel like thick, iron bands and you suck in a surprised breath, hands shooting up to cling at his arm on impulse.
"Easy. Not gonna put it on ya full throttle. Take a calm, deep breath when you're ready," he says as you take a couple shaky breaths. Then low, low enough that you feel more than hear it, "I got you."
You fasten your eyes on the office door, willing yourself to relax. Which isn't much, being wrapped so tightly into Butcher, getting ready to be potentially choked out. After a moment, you remind yourself to tap, give a quick nod and fill your lungs.
Butcher executes slowly, but nonetheless your fingers clutch his arm again as the pressure increases, eliciting an instinctual response from your body to try to get away. But his legs give you nothing to work with and you quickly realize why he had you take a deep breath. You can still breathe, or wheeze rather. But the pressure in your head is firm, quick and thunderous. Blood choke, you think distantly, a ringing beginning to rise in your ears, throughout your skull.
It's mere seconds, but he was right. It's damn uncomfortable. No, actually, it's flat out scary as the edge of your vision begins to fog out the office doors. With a strangled sound rising from your throat you slap his arm in rapid succession. Butcher's response is quick, releasing you within the second hit, arms dropping to your torso.
"You alright?," he asks, craning round your shoulder to peer into your face as you gulp in a mouthful of air. You nod, blinking rapidly when the motion brings a wave of lightheadedness. "You seeing stars?"
"Fuck." It comes out drunkenly. "Lotsa stars."
"I bet there are. Lean back, get your bearings." Butcher pulls you back into him, untangling his legs to set them aside yours again. "You'll be right as rain soon enough."
"Always thought that was an air choke," you sigh. "That you could just hold your breath and try to get out."
"Not a chance," he shakes his head as you rest your dizzy one on his shoulder. "Now you understand why you can't panic. 'Cause there ain't no time for it. You lasted about three seconds, and that's me being sweet on ya. You might last five, maybe even ten seconds if you fight real hard, if they don't cinch it right the first time."
Seconds. Mere seconds. Just to pass out. How long before the lights never come back on..?
"Please tell me you won't make me do that again."
"No," Butcher says firmly. "Not tonight. Doing that too many times too quick is hateful dangerous. Like mucking about with matches; it's all fun and games till you get fucking burnt. Besides…" The arm draped across your hips pulls you in snug. He ducks his head into the dip of your shoulder as you feel fingertips trace the curve of your hip over your t-shirt.
"...I got far better ways to leave you dizzy and panting."
Even with your brain recalibrating - and those calloused fingers brushing by your belt not helping the matter - you manage a smile. Then ask, "Does it involve you actually teaching me more positions? Or are you gassed out already?"
You feel a chuckle hum in your shoulder where his head still presses. "Don't you worry. I'm just getting started."
Before you can respond, verbally at least, to the heated promise - threat? - in his words, he pulls you into a loose version of the choke again. His legs move back to hooking behind your knees. No sense of danger, but now your hyper awareness of being at his mercy returns.
"Let's kick this up a notch, eh? Get a little tricky. I'm gonna tell you how to slip out. Once you do, you're gonna try to take mount, and not let me take your back again."
"Shouldn't be too tricky to get out of your grasp," you shrug, as if you're unbothered. Even though you're definitely a little bothered.
"Slipping out ain't the tricky part. Just remember that. Now, turn us onto the opposite side I'm choking with. My rights at your throat so…That's it," he says as you roll you both onto your left sides. "Reach back with both hands, grip my hand I got against your head and yank it over. Good, don't let go of it till you try to take mount. You're not going anywhere until you untangle yourself from my legs, now are ya?"
"And I thought you wanted to keep me between them," you sass.
"Question is if you wanna stay there, or if you want to mount me," Butcher quips back without skipping a beat. A flash of his hips under you in your recent dream appears in your mind's eye, the very ones now tucked into the back of yours, and a bolt of heat shoots through your core.
"If you want out," Butcher cuts through your haze, "you'll put your right foot on my left leg, good and solid, slip out your legs, and move yourself to the left. Once you're perpendicular, you flip over onto your belly and see if you can top me. And I bet that's a big 'if'," Butcher sneers.
With a scoff at the challenge, you go for it. It takes a bit but you manage to wrangle out your legs, pivoting your body hard. Once in line with his shoulders you twist, pulling his hand out of the way. You recall the one pass you learned in your early gym days, sliding your knee across Butcher's belly to keep low and straddle his waist. You sit up high, grinning, "How big is that 'if' now-?"
You realize you fell for the setup when you see the glint of Butcher's grin in the light from the window. Which is a millisecond before you feel his hips throw you. You barely catch yourself from flying into the floor and in a blur you're spinning, right onto your back. By some miracle you manage to wrap Butcher into closed guard as you land.
He gives you no moment to recuperate, a broad hand sliding under to cup one of your shoulders. Going more off feel than sight, you manage to wrap your arm around his and clamp it to you just as he starts to pry. You pull your shoulders as flat against the floor as you can, and pull him forward and off balance with your legs.
"Well, well, well!," Butcher crows above you. "I do believe the spazzy white belt might be picking up on this afterall. You countered me once. But how long before I take your back again?"
"Try it," you challenge, a lop-sided grin on your features. "The next time you see my back is when I walk out that door."
"You are in over your head."
Butcher goes again for your arms, maneuvers to turn your shoulders for leverage. You squirm, shift, counter in what little way you know how. It's no easy task. Even now adjusted you're still half-blind, and Butcher is stronger and more agile than you've seen before. You know he's not going full force, but he's certainly making you work for the lesson.
Only as the moments pass, there's a shift again. It feels less like a lesson this time. With each counter, with each second you begin to sweat from exertion, each curse from both of you, a complex air wraps around you. When you try to trap Butcher in close, almost like a bear hug in an attempt to limit his movements, you realize what it is. As he mocks your amateur attempt and pries himself free of your arms, you realize that it doesn't feel like the militant sparring from before. It's more like…rough housing. You're actually having fun with this.
By now the two of you have scuffed and shuffled over the floor, the office door now down past your feet, the bathroom just by your heads. It gives a little more light to see by, glittering through the glass from the hallway. You take advantage of it, catching Butcher just in time to see that he's moving his elbows to go for the less pleasant guard pass. Before he can dig his elbows in you shoot up an arm, managing to grab the back of his collar.
He counters in a flash however, raising an arm and leaning back in a snap, preventing you from getting in the other hand. You see his eyes widen, a little laugh slipping out between panting as you continue to hold your grip. "Cross-collar from guard? You thought you were gonna be that sneaky with me?"
"What's the matter, Billy?" You smile back as you try to seize the brief moment to catch your breath. "Maybe feeling a little slow? Or did I make you a bit nervous just now?"
He reaches back and pulls off your slipping grip. A devious smirk appears. "I think now is a good time we covered stacking." Before you can reply, he wedges an arm under and around one of your thighs. You squeeze your legs tighter, certain he's trying to break your guard. Until he moves off his knees, straightening his legs, and pushing forward. You let out a curse as your lower back comes off the floor, and your hips protest as Butcher's weight begins to inch your knees up towards your chest.
"Nice little stretch, innit?," he says with a waggle of his brows.
"Nifty trick, trying to fold me in half," you grit out. You try to push back with your legs. But even with your hips just barely off the floor, you've essentially lost your leverage. You give a strained chuckle as the pressure increases minutely in your hips. You try to reach down to grab at him, pull yourself back to the floor, but he's too far at this angle. "Real nifty. I guess I did make you nervous."
"Nervous, eh?," he asks, eyes narrowing. "With all that panting and sighing, and filthy words coming outta your mouth?" Butcher pushes a little more before shifting back. Just when you think he's letting you up he jerks on your hips and slides back up, slotting himself between your thighs. You let out a gasp when you feel the firm bulge in his jeans begin to press against your core, his weight heavy on your hips again as he leans into you.
"That feel like nervous to you, love?," he husks against your cheek.
Words fail you as your fingers splay on his shoulders, uncertain whether to pull him in or…or what? Butcher's fingers, however, are far more decisive, one hand slipping just under the hem of your shirt to grip your hip firmly. Your brain is a tangled mess at this point, a tiny portion still in rolling mode, prompting you to do something. The rest is fixated on his fingers, and his beard scratching along your jaw, and the heat and the friction…
"Oi," he mutters, raising up enough to leave mere inches between your faces. You swallow when he traces your lips with his gaze. "I'm still waiting for an answer…What's it feel like?"
You rifle through the haze, searching for words as you hear your breathing mingle, your pulse soft in your ears and…the elevator ding?
"... I swear, mon coeur, it'll take two seconds."
A cold shock of realization wrenches you firmly out of your haze. Butcher's eyes widen like yours for a millisecond before his face turns murderous. "Fuck!," he snarls under his breath, eyes darting about. "Roll! Roll!," he hisses, hooking your legs at an awkward angle.
You gasp, then let out a muted squeal as you're spun and rolled in a tangle of limbs with Butcher. It takes a moment to orient up from down when you find yourself on your ass on the bathroom floor, your back firmly against Butcher's chest again. Inky blackness snaps around you when he pulls the door shut. The lock clicks with a flurry of his fingers just as you hear the office doors open on the other side.
You try to slow your breathing, placing a hand over your own mouth as you will your heart rate to please not be so fucking loud! You'd heard and seen for yourself that Kimiko's hearing was far better than the rest of the crew. But you weren't certain just by how much. And by the way Butcher was controlling his breathing, one palm cupping over your hand at your lips, he must have been thinking the same thing.
"Oh, you think I left our apartment key on purpose? What purpose? I'd much rather be snuggling with you at home than back…" There's the sound of a switch being irritably flicked once or twice. Frenchie's voice turns from teasing to confused. "The fuck…? This fucking place! Hold on…."
As you listen to Frenchie shuffle along, and the boot tapping on the floor most likely being Kimiko's, you try to stay still. To be calm. A task not made easy with Butcher's half-hard length pressing against you, and your own lust still pulsing at the apex of your thighs. You dare to slowly shift your hips to try to find a less distracting position. But Butcher's other arm ensnares your waist, a strangled grunt cut short in his throat, giving you a silent command to not fucking move.
Kimiko's boot stops tapping.
Shit, shit, shit!
"Found it!," Frenchie calls. "Goddamn breakers been flipped. Just a little flick of the wrist and…"
In Butcher's haste to lock the bathroom door he must have bumped the light switch. Or someone had left it on before. But you both flinch when the lights suddenly hum to life with a stab to your eyes. You will to whatever powers may be that neither of them notice the light under the bathroom door.
"...Let there be light. Now the key should be…" There's rustling of papers, a desk drawer opening. Then, "Aha! Just as I thought. Alright, mon coeur, lets-! Huh? What's weird?"
There's a pause, the sound of their steps coming back to the office door. "You're right. That's Y/N's bag."
Your gut drops. Your bag. The one you had left by the door when you came in earlier. A whole litany of curses run through your mind as you and Butcher both tense.
"Hughie did say she had plans tonight. Maybe she was in a hurry? Just wanted to drop it off, perhaps? We'll leave it on her desk, she'll be back tomorrow anyway."
There's shuffling again, the sound of something placed on a desk surface. Your phone, where was your phone? Was it out in the open? You couldn't remember where you had left it, and you hoped they wouldn't spot it. You listen to Frenchie begin to flirt with Kimiko as he turns off the office lights. Followed by the sound of the door closing, the sound of the lock again. With straining ears, you both hear the muffled sound of the elevator doors closing. Only then you pull both his and your hands from your mouth and heave a sigh.
That's two close calls today. Jesus.
"Fucking hell," Butcher grumbles, dropping his head back against the wall with a dull thump. You turn your head just enough to see the sour look on his face. "Too damn close, that one. Gonna have to find somewhere else. We can't keep meeting like this."
You nod. Then start to snicker. He glares down at you with a confused brow. "What?," you smile. "Don't wanna get caught like two teenagers playing seven minutes in heaven?"
Your snickering intensifies as his sour look turns to a snort. Then a wheeze. The nerves from the last few minutes finally spring loose in your chest, and you burst into a full on fit of giggles. It amplifies when you feel Butcher's shoulders shake with a fit of his own, and you see the first actual smile on his face in months.
"Couple of twats hiding in an office bathroom. Fucking stupid!," he wheezes as you try to fight the ridiculous wave of giggles. The sight of his eyes crinkling with humor, a rare sight if there ever was one, makes you smile hard enough that your cheeks start to hurt.
A sudden buzz and tune rattle on the bathroom tile, and you jump. You bite hard on your lip against laughter as Butcher unwraps your waist to wrangle his phone out of his pocket. "What the fuck now? Hold on, hold on. Keep it down." Clearing the laugh out his own throat, he answers, "MM! Fancying a chat are we?"
When Butcher's face morphs to serious, your fit finally subsides. The situation and current setting finally kick in, and after a minute of debating, you seize the lack of hold on you to stumble to your feet. Butcher gives you a disbelieving look as you step over his legs and out into the office, before shuffling to follow.
"Yeah, I heard ya. Which one?," he continues into his phone as you sweep the floor for your own. You find it under another desk again and snatch it up to tuck in your pocket. You lean back against the desk, watching Butcher carefully as the conversation unfolds. "How long we got?...Right now. Of fucking course," he scowls. "Alright, see ya soon."
"What's wrong?," you ask as he severs the connection.
"MM just intercepted a call to Vought from one of the hospitals," he says, shrugging on his coat with agitation. "Someone was dumped at the ER checking off that special list of symptoms."
"Persuasion?"
"Most likely. And we gotta get to them before the company lackeys show up."
You grab your keys from your bag, doing your best not to disturb it on its spot on your desk. "Training for another night then? Well, good luck at the hospital. Keep me posted."
"Now hold on. The fuck you think you're running off to?" Butcher stalks towards you with heavy eyes. "You're part of this crew. We got a job to do. And I didn't say we were done tonight, now did I?"
"Yes. And you heard Frenchie. They know I have 'plans'," you explain as he braces his hands on the desk, caging you in. You smile coyly in response. "And if I show up, especially when MM only called you…They’re all gonna have questions, right?"
Butcher gives out a dissatisfied growl to the ceiling. "We ain't done here," he intones.
He had almost done it. You'd nearly broke there on the office floor. And it had been so very tempting to see what would have happened had you not got up and left the bathroom. But now that you've had a moment to reset, and duty calls…well he can't have all the fun now can he?
"You're running out of time. Wouldn't be a good idea to keep MM waiting."
Butcher stares you down, a knowing smirk on his face. He nods slowly. "I'll be damned if those fuckers beat me to it," he concedes. "But like I said…"
Before you can blink, he hooks a finger under your chin and presses his lips to yours. You had expected it to be heated, greedy. But you're startled at how soft it is. A borderline tenderness you had never seen coming, sideswiping you hard enough to make your breath hitch. You feel him smile at the sound and he pulls back just before you find it in you to kiss in return.
"...We ain't done." His thumb idly swipes over your bottom lip just before he's out of reach. In a few long strides he's out the door, leaving you recovering from the whiplash of the evening.
As fun as it is to tease, you muse, sneaking a taste of him on your lips, I wonder how I can kill one cockblocking Frenchie without Kimiko gutting me alive.
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Chapter 8
Take Me Home?
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“Ow.”
“Shut up.”
“Y-you pinched me.”
“I could punch you instead.”
“...sorry sir.”
“That’s what I thought,” I grumbled as I tightened the handcuffs around the teen’s wrists a notch, before dragging him over to the cupboard.
“I had a long drive, several long days and more long days to come. Now is my time to catch up on sleep, so I don’t want to hear any crying, whining, kicking or any other kind of noise until I come wake you up. Understand?”
“Y-yes, sir,” Erick said, shuffling on his knees onto the spare mattress I tossed in there.
“Attaboy,” I said, “see you in eight hours.”
Without waiting for a reply, I closed the cupboard door, jammed the rusty latch back in place, and headed outside to park my van in the driveway so I could carry my bags inside. My landlady, Ethel, either slept through it or thought it too late to go out, since I didn’t see her after parking my van.
I decided to slap a note on my front door to let her know I needed to sleep in so she wouldn’t burst in on anything suspicious, before going to take a shower, tossing some clean sheets on my bed, smoking a last cigarette, and then passing out.
As far as I knew, Erick didn’t stir up any trouble while I slept. I was borderline comatose for hours anyway, so I doubt he could’ve woken me up even if he tried. No, I think I eventually woke up purely from dehydration, my throat feeling dryer than the Arizona desert that I just left.
I got out of bed with a groan, heading into the kitchen to drink some water from the tap, before filling up the reservoir of my coffee machine to get a fresh pot brewing. I used the bathroom, got dressed, poured a coffee, found my laptop and dusted it off, plugged it in to charge before grabbing my phone and calling Tito, sipping my coffee as I waited for him to pick up.
“Fetcher! How was the trip?”
“So and so,” I replied, “now, let’s talk details…”
After about half an hour of talking on the phone, Tito eventually agreed to send me all available details on the target via email, so I could get to planning. But before that, I had another thing to tend to.
I finished my coffee before opening the cupboard door. Erick had managed to find a comfortable enough position to sleep in, though he woke up from his snoozing when the daylight hit him square in the face. He groaned softly, looking a bit sweaty, trembling in fear as he recognised me, sitting up and pressing against the wall.
“Come on out,” I said, “you can use the bathroom and then I’ll fix you something to eat.”
“Hgnn…y-yes, sir, thank you,” the teen mumbled, needing my help to get to his feet.
“If you’re just gonna mumble you better shut up,” I said, removing his handcuffs and pulling him into the hallway to show him to the bathroom, but we both froze when there was a knock on the door.
“Chase, honey? Are you still asleep?” Ethel’s raspy whisky voice sounded through the door.
I quickly shoved Erick against the wall, putting a hand over his mouth as I pinned him in place with a warning glare.
“Just woke up, Ethel!” I called back.
“Do you need anything, dear? I threw away half your fridge last week, it was becoming a health hazard! I’ll make you some breakfast!”
I glanced back at Erick. I’d have to hide him, but it would save me some trouble trying to fix up a meal for him while I had basically nothing in my cabinet.
“Thanks Ethel, I’m starving!” I replied, “don’t come in yet! I was about to shower.”
“Shame! I’ll just peek through the camera I secretly installed in your bathroom!”
“Already disabled it, Ethel!”
Her laughing died away as she headed back downstairs, though I waited until I heard her front door slam closed before letting go of Erick.
“Okay, you got five fucking seconds to use the bathroom and drink some water, that woman cooks like a maniac and I suspect she’s already cooked something before coming up to ask.”
“W-what—”
“Shut up and get in there!”
I opened the bathroom door and shoved him inside before closing it, standing outside and listening for him to be finished, though it sounded like it took him forever to even get started.
“Drink water from the tap, no time for glasses,” I said after finally hearing the toilet flush.
A second later the bathroom tap was running longer than usual, before he knocked on the door to let me know he had finished. I opened it and pulled him back to the kitchen, putting my hand over his mouth again when he tried to ask another question.
“You don’t talk, you listen!” I hissed, “You’re going to be very quiet while my landlady is up here or I will kill you! Understood?”
The boy quickly nodded his head, for as much as he could with my hand clamped over the lower half of his face. Still, I didn’t want to take any chances, so I grabbed a roll of duct tape from the one messy drawer in my kitchen.
It’s not a good home if you don’t have that one drawer with random items that you may or may not need in a hurry. Erick whimpered as I tore the tape off the roll, but stayed quiet otherwise as I stuck it over his lips, nor did he struggle as I turned him around to tape his wrists behind his back. Then I took his arm, dragging him towards my bedroom.
I could probably stash him in my closet, Ethel never went in my bedroom while I was home anyway, I just had to make sure he wouldn’t kick against anything to grab her attention.
“Get down! I said down!”
I shoved him against the floor, ignoring his pained cries as I grabbed his legs, warning him not to move as I taped his calves to his thighs, trapping his legs in place before dragging him into the closet. I had to squeeze him between a crate and the wall since that was the only floor space I had left.
“It’s just until she leaves,” I said, looking at his fearful expression for a couple seconds, before closing the door.
I quickly wetted my hair in the bathroom and combed it to make it seem like I had just showered, just in time to hear the front door open as Ethel let herself in.
“Oh good, you’re dressed. Come give an old crone a hand, would you?”
“You’re not old,” I said, putting on my best charming smile as I took the large tray she was balancing on one arm and carried it into the kitchen.
“Flirting doesn’t get you a discount on your rent, hun,” Ethel said, “so how was your job?”
“Eh, the usual,” I said, setting the tray down and looking over all the foods she had stuffed onto the tray.
Cooked eggs, boiled eggs, sausages, bacon, toast, yoghurt, granola, a mix of berries, another mix of fruits, an orange, an apple, a banana…she even pulled out a recycled water bottle full of milk and one with chocolate milk, as well as plain water.
“I know you only eat that horrible gas station food when on the road, you need your vitamins, Chase,” Ethel said, pouring herself a coffee and a refill for me before sitting down, “what kinda work did you do again?”
“Whatever pays the most,” I said, “sometimes it’s yard work, other times it’s home improvements, package delivery… Speaking of payment, you mind if I pay a couple months ahead on rent again?”
“Not at all dear, it’s hard to cash in when you’re never home. Paying ahead works just fine,” Ethel said, “is it gonna be cash again?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ll walk you to the bank to deposit it,” I said.
“Such a gentleman. How are you still single?”
“I could ask you the same,” I said, taking a bite from one of the sausages.
“Oh you know I couldn’t bear to try and replace Han,” Ethel said.
I nodded, while trying to figure out whether her late husband’s name was Han or just a bad pronunciation of Juan. I’d known Ethel too long to ask at this point, so I just settled for never knowing.
“You look tired,” she suddenly said.
“Do I?”
“Yeah, you get this look in your eyes and you stare miles into the distance.”
“Just lost in thought,” I said, “it’s a good breakfast though.”
“Well, I best leave you to it,” Ethel said, getting up and taking her coffee with her, “I’ll go wash this and you bring my stuff back whenever.”
“Of course,” I said, “I’ll take another nap and then I’ll come down with your stuff and your money and I’ll walk you to the bank…actually maybe we’ll drive, I need to buy some fresh food before getting ready for another job.”
You never sit still, do you, Chase?” Ethel sighed, “oh to be young…”
“I’m in my fifties?”
“When you’re my age you’ll wish you were fifty again,” Ethel said, shuffling out of the kitchen.
“You’re only as old as you feel, Ethel!”
“Yeah yeah!”
I chuckled a bit, getting up to at least walk her out, waving her off as she carefully descended the stairs, before closing the front door and locking it…and then I heard it. Muffled whining coming from the bedroom. Had he been making noise this whole time? With a sigh, I headed into the room and opened the closet door.
“I thought I told you to be quiet?”
“Hmm…”
He looked up with me with glassy eyes, his chest heaving like he had trouble breathing. With a sigh, I pulled the tape off of his mouth, to which he coughed and gasped for air.
“Slow your breathing, or you’re gonna start hyperventilating,” I said, pulling him out of the closet.
“I-I waited…s-sir…”
“You waited for my neighbour to leave before you started yelling?” I asked, raising a brow.
“I-I couldn’t breathe, b-but you told me to be quiet while she was here, I-I didn’t know what to do—”
“You’re fine,” I quickly said before he’d start crying again, “hold still, I’ll cut you loose and you can get something to eat.”
He nodded, holding still while I grabbed some scissors from the kitchen and returned to cut him free, pulling the tape off of his legs and wrists, giving him a second to stretch before taking him back into the kitchen and sitting him down. I grabbed the bowls with fruits and put them in front of him.
“Here, you need some vitamins.”
Erick looked down at the fruit, then back up at me.
“V-vitamins?”
“Yeah, I can’t send you home with scurvy, that’s bad form,” I said.
But the teen still seemed confused. I rolled my eyes a little.
“Scurvy is an old name for vitamin C deficiency,” I explained, “humans can’t make it by themselves so we need to rely on external sources; like nice juicy oranges.”
I pushed the fruit salad closer to him, to which he gingerly picked out a piece of orange and ate it.
I let him eat his fill for a change, and even then he didn’t eat much. I was wondering if fruit was hard for him to eat as well, but then I noted he looked rather pale. Maybe he was just tired from the drive, and I couldn’t imagine he’d had too much sleep in that cupboard. Or maybe I was wrong about that too.
Just when I convinced him to take a sip of water, he suddenly gagged and spewed everything he ate right on my kitchen floor. A splash of half-digested macaroni and chewed up orange coloured the tiles a red-ish hue, and the smell was not my favourite.
“Come on,” I sighed.
“cough! I-I’m sorry— Urk!”
“Bathroom,” I said, pulling him to his feet and dragging him towards the bathroom, so he could spew the rest into the toilet, clutching the bowl for dear life as he gasped for air a bit. I flushed for him, grabbing a towel from the shelf and running some cold water over it to wipe his face after he seemed done.
“You’re burning up,” I noted, putting my hand on his forehead briefly, “did you pick up a bug somewhere? …no, that doesn’t make sense. Let me see your arm.”
I unravelled the bandages covering his right arm and fingers, checking his wounds for signs of infection. His nails had started growing back, but none of them were growing in. I checked higher up his arm, the boy flinching as I pressed near the bite wound, and a bit of pus came out.
“Damn rats,” I sighed.
“W-what’s happening?” Erick asked hoarsely.
“You’re fine, just a little sick,” I said, “get in the shower, run some lukewarm water over this until clean blood starts coming out. I’ll go clean my floor and find you some clean clothes. It’s probably just an infection so I’ll get you some medication and you can sleep it off before going home, okay?”
“O-okay…”
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Soft Touch Baby
Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Eddie’s POV | Song | ao3
Eddie doesn’t look directly at Steve the rest of the time everyone else is still there. Side glances, here and there, but every time Steve looks at him (which is a normal amount, Robin, shut up), he looks away. It feels like high school all over again, when Steve was a coward and a bully and Eddie was lower on the totem pole than Steve would ever dare to tread.
Steve does what he knows to do. He provides drinks and snacks, plays the perfect host, and tries not to pay attention to his own feelings.
Once the kids leave, the house is silent for a moment. Eddie, of course, breaks it, and Steve almost has to smile. “Another beer?” Eddie asks, shaking his almost-empty one before tipping it up to his mouth for the last dregs.
Steve considers his Coke, considers Eddie’s beer, then nods. “Only if you do, though,” he says, almost grinning.
Eddie grins wide, but he still won’t look directly at Steve. “Whaddya take me for, a two-pot screamer?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Were you not the one saying you shouldn’t be driving?”
Eddie stills then, once again halfway in the fridge, before moving away and shutting the door, hands empty. “You’re right. I can- I should… I’ll go, sorry, I-”
“Whoa,” Steve says, moving to intercept him. “What’s going on? You’re fine, stay. I don’t… it doesn’t matter. The drinks, the driving. If you can drive. It’s fine. You can stay.” Please don’t say it, don’t make me say it. Don’t make me beg.
“Okay,” Eddie says finally, and Steve lets out a breath he doesn’t remember holding.
“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly. They get their beers and sit on the couch. Steve doesn’t think about the careful space between them.
“The masks,” Eddie starts, fidgeting with his rings, ripping the paper label on the beer. “That’s from experience.”
Steve takes a drink before answering. “I was a dick in high school. I’m trying not to be.”
“You’re succeeding.” More fidgeting, more ripping. “Sometimes you wear a mask for so long you can’t even remember who you are underneath.” His leg starts shaking. Steve resists the urge to put his hand on it.
“Sometimes,” Steve allows. He looks straight at Eddie. “Sometimes the best mask is the real you.” Eddie pulls a piece of hair in front of his face, the way he does when he’s overwhelmed or flustered. Steve wants to bury his fingers in Eddie’s hair. He forces himself not to think about it.
It’s silent for a moment—or as silent as it can be with Eddie—before Steve takes a breath. “You’re really good with the kids.”
Eddie snorts. “The little shits. They’re good kids, I haven’t done anything.”
“Damn lie,” Steve says quickly, like it’s a reflex. “You’re good with them. They love you. You match their energy.”
Eddie takes a drink to hide the smile trying to break through. “So what I’m hearing is I’m childish.”
“Shut up,” Steve laughs, leaning over to gently push Eddie’s arm. “Sometimes, sure, but that’s not a bad thing.”
“Mhm. Mister I’m the mom friend of the group and you’d better listen to me, young man.”
Steve laughs again, louder. “I’m the mom friend?”
Eddie raises a challenging brow and gestures around. “You ferry the kids everywhere, your house is always open for movie or game nights, you keep a frankly concerning amount of snacks on hand at all times…”
Steve shakes his head, still laughing, but sobers. He wants to be brave. And if he can’t yet, not about the thing eating him, maybe he can about this. “The snacks aren’t just for the kids.” He picks at the label of his own bottle. “Sometimes… real food is just… too much, y’know?”
Eddie hums. “I think so. Like, the preparing of it?”
Steve shakes his head. “Not always. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just the thought of it that’s too much. Snacks are easier. I dunno why.” He huffs a breathless laugh. “Maybe I’m just fucked in the head.”
Eddie snorts. “I think we’re all fucked in the head, after everything.” He shrugs when Steve turns to look at him. “‘S not a bad thing.”
Steve raises a brow with a wry smile. “I think my multiple concussions would disagree with you.”
Eddie furrows his brows. “Dude, if you’re not fucked in the head after all those, I’d be worried.” He pauses, looks away, looks back. “Anything come from those?”
“From the concussions?” Eddie nods. “Some. I’m fine.”
Eddie sighs, looks away again, looks back again. “You ever gonna let someone else take care of you?”
Steve offers a wry smile. “What’s it we were talking about earlier, about masks?”
Pt 4
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steddie fic#soft touch baby#this is officially turning into a slow burn#I’m not sure how to feel about it#steve needs a hug#and for someone to take care of him#he deserves it dammit#and Eddie knows
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Heartwork- E.M. Pt. 2
I guess I should make it known that this fic is taking place in the Summer of 1991 around May/June just in case anyone was wondering. Love you all, Jess <3
1 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - Epilogue
Masterlist
You and Eddie go see a movie together.
TW- vague mention of drinking, cursing
Pairings- Eddie x Reader
Word Count- 1,581
(Gif not mine, credit to owner!)
You spend the day at your desk thumping your leg on the floor, not knowing why you’re feeling so anxious. Maybe it’s just because the night before, you were out so late with Eddie, and a little hungover. You shuffle your papers and try to stay focused on your work, but by the time the clock hits 5, you’re racing out the door, thankful that you can put your mind at rest for the rest of the day. You get yourself home and flop onto your couch to turn on your TV, but after a while, you find yourself flicking your eyes to the clock ticking on the wall every few minutes. Why are you so antsy today?
Your heart leaps in your chest as the phone rings, and you jump up to get it. You pick it up and hold it to your ear. “Hello?”
“Y/N! Honey! How are you?” It’s your mom.
“I’m good! Just settling in,” You tell her. “Oh, guess who I ran into at the bar last night?”
“Who? Was it Y/BFF/N!?” She asks excitedly.
“No, apparently, she moved. It was Eddie! Eddie Munson!”
“Oh! How is he? You know, he gave us a discount last year when your father needed to get his car fixed!” You smile at that. It’s so Eddie of him.
“He’s good! Yeah, we just hung out and caught up all night. The bartender had to kick us out, actually.” You chuckle.
“Oh, really?” Your mom laughs. She always used to tease you when your best friend and Eddie weren’t around. She thought you had a crush. Of course, even if you did, which you didn’t, there was no way you’d ever tell anyone. Eddie was Y/BFF/N’s.
“Come on, mom! It’s not like that, and you know it! Eddie’s just a friend!” You assert, one hand going to your hip.
“Well, all I’m saying, Y/N, is that Eddie is a very nice, caring young man. You could do a lot worse.”
“Mom!” You laugh incredulously.
“That’s all I’m saying! I’m done!” Your mom exclaims defensively. “Anyway, I was just calling to see if you want to come to dinner this weekend. I’m making pot roast, if you’d like some.”
“Yeah, that would be great, mom. I’ll be there.”
“Good! And if you see Eddie again, tell him I said hello. Bring him with you, if you want! I miss having all you kids around for dinner!” You chuckle, rolling your eyes.
“I’ll think about it,” You mumble dryly, thinking of all the comments she’d make about the two of you. “I’ll talk to you later, mom. Love you.”
“I love you too, sweetie. Have a good night.” You hang up the phone and breathe a sigh, looking to the clock again. 7:04. You feel your stomach grumble and trudge to the kitchen to find something for dinner. You decide on some chicken and a bag of frozen broccoli and start preparing it, turning on the radio to keep you entertained while you boil some water and season the chicken. After a little while, tongs in your hand as you prod the chicken in the pan, the phone rings again. You go to answer it, assuming your mom forgot to tell you something on your call a few minutes ago.
“Hello?”
“Y/N?” It’s Eddie. You smile.
“Oh, hey, Eddie! What’s up?”
“Not much, I just got home from work. Listen, I don’t know if you’d be interested, but me and a couple of friends are headed to the movies. We’re going to see Silence of the Lambs. You wanna come? It’s supposed to be really good.” He asks.
“Yeah, sounds like fun! And it is, I saw it opening weekend a few months ago.”
“Great! You wanna meet there or I can come pick you up if you want,” He offers.
“I can drive, don’t worry about it. What time does the movie start?”
“Eight.” You glance at the clock, just about 7:30 now. You’ll have to leave soon. “So, I’ll see you there?”
You start smelling something burning, and gasp. Your dinner! “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve gotta go, dinner’s burning! Bye!”
“See you—” You feel bad as you slam the phone down and run to the kitchen, but it’s too late. The chicken is completely blackened. You take the pan off the burner and set it aside, fanning smoke away with your hand. You can eat after the movie, you decide, and so you scrape the chicken and broccoli into the trash before going to put on some clothes to go to the movie.
Thankfully, the movie theater isn’t too crowded on a Monday night, and so you find Eddie easily among the passers-by. Next to him, you spot another curly haired man. He’s a bit shorter and his hair is a lighter brown, and as he turns around you see a familiar face, more matured, but you’d recognize that wide grin anywhere. “Henderson?!” You shout as you approach. He turns to look at you, his million-dollar smile on display as he sees you. You rush to him and give him a hug. You haven’t seen him since he was a freshman in high school, and now look at him. All grown up.
“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” You take his face in your hands, your heart swelling at seeing how much he’s grown. His head is above yours now, not by much, but it’s still a big difference from when you were in school together.
“Oh, my god! Dustin, you’re so big! How are you!” He laughs as you step back.
“I’m good! I’m home for the summer from NYU. I got into the engineering program there.” You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling.
“Of course, you did! I wouldn’t expect anything else, you brilliant man, you!” He waves a hand dismissively.
“Oh, stop. I’m not that great. The competition is definitely tougher than it was here,” he says.
“Oh bullshit!” Eddie interjects, arms crossed over his chest. “You were just telling me how you were working on a project with Motorola for a digital portable phone. That’s insane!” Dustin’s face flushes with red as Eddie turns to you. “He got into this internship as a freshman, which is apparently unheard of.” You beam with pride at Dustin, and another familiar face rounds the corner.
“Hey, Gareth! How are you?” You wave.
“I’ve been good! I’m getting married!”
“I heard! What’s her name?” You can practically see his eyes turn into hearts at the mere thought of her.
“Nicole,” he smiles. “We got together right after high school. Met her at a concert, actually. She’s great! You should come meet her sometime!” You nod.
“I’d love to! Maybe we can get the gang back together for a Hellfire sesh,” You suggest.
“Oh, man. I haven’t played in so long. College keeps you busy,” Dustin laughs, and you nod.
“Don’t I know it!” You all laugh. You glance at the clock, and it’s almost time for the movie to start. “I’m gonna go grab my ticket and something to eat. I didn’t get to eat my dinner earlier. You turn to walk toward the ticket stand, but Eddie stops you.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got your ticket,” he says, pulling two out of his jacket pocket. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, taking one from his hand.
“Oh, thanks,” You say smiling. “Well, since you got me my ticket I think it’s only fair I buy the popcorn.” Eddie shrugs.
“Well, I haven’t eaten dinner yet either. If you want, we can just go somewhere after.” You nod eagerly.
“Can we go to the diner? I’ve been craving a good burger.” Eddie laughs, both of you start walking behind Dustin and Gareth toward the theater room.
“Yeah, sounds good to me.” You suddenly remember the conversation with your mom from the dinner talk, and you giggle. Eddie looks down at you in question. “What?”
“My mom called me a few minutes before you did. I told her I ran into you last night at the bar and she wants to know if you want to come to dinner this weekend. She’s making pot roast.” Eddie laughs as he takes the door from Dustin’s hand, allowing you to go in first.
“Yeah, that sounds great. I miss having dinner at your place. Your parents have always been so nice to me.” You remember the days when most of the town hated people like you and Eddie. The outcasts, the freaks. Your house was always a sanctuary, and Eddie’s. Y/BFF/N’s parents, on the other hand, they were cordial, but they weren’t… warm, like your parents and Wayne.
“Yeah, my mom mentioned you gave my dad a discount last year when you worked on his car.” You walk up the steep steps to find a good seat at the top, toward the center of the row next to Dustin and Gareth.
“Ah, yeah I think I remember that. It’s the least I could do, really, for raising my best friend, and all.” He shrugs as he sits next to you. You grin at him, nudging his shoulder with yours.
“So, I’m your best friend, huh?” Eddie shifts but doesn’t lose his easy smile as he looks back at you.
“Of course, you are. Always have been.” You look down at your hands as heat rushes your cheeks. Then, the previews start, making both of you look toward the screen.
@corrodedcoffincumslut @haylaansmi
#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson#eddie x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie the freak munson#eddie#stranger things#eddie stranger things#stranger things fic#dustin stranger things#stranger things 4
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Chapter 2
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Florist Y/n x Bartender Sun, Moon, Eclipse, Lunar and BloodMoon
Genre: Fluff
Warning: None
Word counts: 1396
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1 week later
April 24th
Y/n POV:
A week since I have gone over and visited the celestial light bar. It was an interesting time since it was the first time in like 3 years since I had any kind of freedom to have fun. When I went over to the bar for the first time and met the bartenders there. I didn’t expect to stay long after the first time I tried out one of Sun’s special drinks. Luckily I didn’t stay long to get drunk but long enough to get to know the guys which honestly felt refreshing.
Today I was getting my shop ready as everything I ordered came in today. After I got the shelves stock up and the plants that were ready to be transferred to the windows. I looked around to see how amazing it looked after getting everything situated and done. “I’m very much grateful that Denise gave me this place, if it wasn’t for her then I would be searching for quite some time to find a decent place” I said to myself as I looked outside to see how busy the street was today. Heading over and grabbing two small flower pots that had my favorite flower, I placed them on the main count with one on each end. “Well this is cute for a flower shop” I Jumped in surprise when I heard a voice behind me. Turning around quickly, I saw BloodMoon standing at the entrance of my shop as he looked around the place. “BloodMoon? What brings you here” I asked while BloodMoon came over to the counter where I was standing. “Just came by to see how the progress of your shop is going and to give you this” BloodMoon reached into his dark gray dress pants and pulled out an envelope as he handed it to me.
“What is it?”
I looked at BloodMoon confused as he shrugged his shoulders and just leaned against my counter. “Don’t know but I was told to give it to you” Even more confused on what he meant. I opened the envelope to see an invitation from the Celestial Light Bar which caused me to look at BloodMoon. “Are you guys holding a party or something?” BloodMoon just shrugs his shoulders before going around my shop that wasn’t even open yet. “The others thought of holding an event and everyone who receives an invitation from any of us is allowed to come to the event” BloodMoon mentions as he turns towards my direction while light touches one of the plants near the windows.
“Okay? So when is this event happening?” I asked while putting the invite in my pocket so I didn’t lose it. “Next Saturday at 8 PM” BloodMoon answered without hesitation as he pushed off my counter and walked over to the window and looked outside. “Next Saturday huh, is it a formal event cause I’m not really the type to wear dresses really” I said jokingly since it was true that I didn’t really care to wear anything formal to the event. Since no one really invites me to go unless my annoying mother drags me to one. “It’s just mostly casual so no formal going on at least for a while” I guessed that he and the others had done formal events.
“Well I’ll see what is going on next week if I have plans or not. But other than that, is there something you would like from here or was coming by and handing me an invitation for today?” As much as I would like to continue my conversation with BloodMoon but I had to get ready to open my store. “Chasing me out already rose” BloodMoon said jokingly which had me softly glare at him. I then stopped when I realized that BloodMoon just gave me a nickname that caused me to blush a little.
“Rose huh”
BloodMoon chuckled as he nodded his head. “You remind me of a pretty red rose” BloodMoon explains before he heads to the front door. Before he left my shop, BloodMoon turned back around and gave me his cheeky grin. “See you around rose” BloodMoon then left, leaving me speechless for the first time.
“These animatronics are gonna be the death of me”
I chuckled softly to myself as I went over and flipped the sign to ‘Open’. The morning was slow but nice for the first day of the shop being open. As the afternoon came around and it was basically my lunch time. I decided to skip it for the day since I just wanted to get at least enough sales for the day before it was closing time. When the last customer left with their purchase, I went over to close the shop since it was now around 6 PM. “A lot of people have came today which is a surprise” I was satisfied with today's results as I was grabbing a broom and started to sweep the floors. Once I cleaned up the place, I looked at the flowers that I had and thought about the Celestial light bar. “I wonder if they would like the flowers I have here” I put the broom away and dealt with the money before grabbing the plants I was gonna give to the bar next door and locked up the shop.
Heading over to the bar, I held the plants in one arm while I opened the door with the other. When I got inside and looked around, I saw that all the guys were doing something with customers as there were a lot then before. “Wow, they sure are popular” I chuckled softly while I walked over to the bar and placed the flower on the counter.
“I see that you have came back here again huh miss/sir L/N” I heard as I looked to see Moon in front of me while looking at what was in front of him. “I just came by and was dropping these off. '' I smiled softly as Moon slightly moved the flowers. “What's the occasion?” Moon turned his attention towards me as I shrugged my shoulders even tho it was mostly meant as a gift. “It be a gift for the drink and the invitation you guys gave me” Moon chuckled softly after hearing that statement from me as the other soon came over and saw what all our commotion about. “What’s going on here?” Lunar ask confused. Sunny looked and squealed excited as he quickly took the flowers I brought into his hands. “Looks like we have received a gift from our sunflower” Sun said as his rays danced around his head happily.
“It’s not that great of a gift” I felt a little embarrassed since Sun was making the gift I gave them a huge deal. “I wouldn’t say that lily, It’s the thought that counts that we appreciate” Eclipse says with a pleasant smirk as Lunar nodded his head happily. I realized something, Both Sun and Eclipse gave nicknames of a plant like BloodMoon did which made my heart skip a beat.
“You alright there Iris, your kind quiet there all of the sudden” Lunar said as he lightly placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m fine Lunar, I just glad you guys like the gift is all” I gave Lunar a reassuring smile to not worry him even tho his nickname for me was cute like the others. “Was that all you came to do Orchid, or did you want to spend time with us” Moon said teasingly which caused me to blushed a bit as I softly glared at him.
“You guys would like that wouldn’t you”
“That’s right Orchid”
I was a little surprised by Moon’s response as he let out a cheeky smile. I looked at the time and thought of it since I haven’t eaten anything yet. “Hmm if I do, would you treat me to dinner~” I said to all of them as they too were a little surprised before smiling/grinning at my offering. “Why of course rose” BloodMoon said as he quickly left to head to the kitchen. Lunar escorted me to a seat as Eclipse yet again handed me a menu but this one was different from the last time I was here.
“We hope you enjoy your time here lily”
#dca au#aus#dca fandom#eclipse x reader#moondrop x reader#sundrop x reader#bloodmoon x reader#lunar x reader#nfa y/n#nfa lunar#nfa eclipse#nfa moon#nfa sun#nfa bloodmoon#nfa#nature finest addition
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Night Moves | Chapter 3
previous part | masterlist | next part
synopsis: Bradley tries is hardest to stay away from Y/N, but it's proving to be harder than expected. Y/N asks questions about her dad.
word count: 3.4k
warnings: mentions of parental death, cancer, smoking pot, religious trauma, illusions of mental abuse, abandonment issues, trust issues.
Bradley wasn’t even sure why he decided to go to Olivia’s party. His mind was still swimming from the very awkward dinner with Y/N and her grandparents. When she had finished up the dishes, she came back into the living room, but only for a split second before Mrs. Lawton was sending her to her room. Bradley guessed it was probably because the woman knew something happened between them.
Bradley loved Mrs. Lawton, he really did. She was the closest thing he had to a grandmother, and she always treated him so kindly. But he hated how she treated Y/N. She was an adult, one that was old enough to make her own choices. In Bradley’s eyes, unless she was on the run for murder, Y/N didn’t do anything to warrant this type of treatment.
Sighing into his drink, Bradley set it down next to him and watched the group of teenagers and twenty-somethings all dance up on each other. He was sitting in a lawn chair a couple feet away from the fire, he thought it was dumb to have a bonfire when it was still 80 degrees outside. He was one of the only singles sitting by himself, most had found someone to dance with, or had disappeared into the tree line behind Olivia’s house. Olivia’s parties were known as “swipe parties”, most who came ended up swiping something, whether that be someone’s credit card or virginity, that was up for interpretation.
“You look lonely,” A voice said and Bradley looked up to see Olivia Bachman standing in front of him. Her legs were on display as she wore cut off shorts, and her top, if you could even call it that, showed off her breasts. Olivia was a very pretty girl, and she knew it, “What’s wrong?” She asked, and sat down in the chair next to Bradley.
“Nothing,” He shrugged and adjusted in his seat, “Nice party.”
“Now, I really know something is wrong,” Olivia chuckled, “I heard about your mom, I’m sorry.” Bradley just nodded and sipped his drink. He was tired of hearing those words. He knew that it was people just trying to be nice to him, but he wanted to punch everyone who said that to him.
“Do you want to dance?” Bradley asked, and Olivia’s lips quirked up in a smile. She nodded and grabbed Bradley’s hands, pulling him towards the makeshift dance area. Bradley had no idea what he was doing, the only girl he danced with was at prom and she had been scared to even touch him because her mom was one of the chaperones. But, Olivia knew what she was doing, and turned around, pressing her ass against Bradley’s crotch, and placed his hands on her hips. He tried to act like he wasn’t taken aback by her boldness, but he totally was. Olivia reminded him of Y/N, if she had the freedom to do what she wanted.
But Bradley also wondered if Y/N was this bold? Sure he had caught her naked in the lake off his dock in the middle of the night, but that was just by chance. She was sneaky, and Bradley wondered if that was part of the reason why she was here. Did she sneak out one night and get caught? Did she sneak around and do drugs or something? She didn’t seem like a druggie, but maybe that was because her grandmother made her totally detox.
“You’re thinking too much,” Olivia said, and turned around to face Bradley. Her hips moved to the beat of the music, swaying back and forth. Bradley didn’t recognize the song, it was some shitty overplayed pop song. He hardly ever listened to the radio, except for at work. His truck radio didn’t even get the pop station, and he preferred to listen to the 8-track tapes that his dad had once made.
“I don’t usually listen to this stuff,” Bradley said, his hands still on her hips.
“I can tell,” Olivia smiled, “Just. . . here,” She leaned up on her tippy toes and placed a sloppy kiss on Bradley’s lips. He didn’t like the way she kissed. It was as if she was trying to stick her tongue down his throat. She also tasted like cheap beer. But Bradley still kissed her back, his hands tightening their hold on her hips.
“Better?” She asked when she pulled away, and Bradley nodded. She smirked and kissed the corner of his mouth before turning back around and her ass was once again on Bradley’s groin. He sucked in a breath as she bent over, grinding her ass against him. He’s never had a girl do that on him before.
— — —
Y/N was wide awake. Her brain would just not shut off after the disaster of a dinner she had with her grandparents, Bradley and his mom. She kind of remembered Carole from the summers she spent back here. Somewhere in her memory she could picture a tall man with a mustache, who would be one of the only adults to go down the slip-and-slide at Gran’s fourth of July parties. Y/N wondered where he was. She was going to ask but knew Gran’s rules about asking about people from the past.
She sighed as she turned over onto her side and looked out her window. The lake looked inviting, but after the vents at dinner, Y/N didn’t dare to try and sneak out. Gran was already on to her about Bradley and Y/N was not about to give her anymore fuel about it. Y/N looked around her room, her eyes landing on the record player and stack of vinyls in the corner. It had once belonged to her mother, and Y/N was surprised that her mother used to have good taste in music.
Quietly, Y/N got out of her bed and walked over to the record player. She flipped through them, her eyes landing on a Queen record. She read the back of it and smiled seeing one of her favorite songs. Just as she was about to put the needle down on the record, she heard something hit against her window. She furrowed her eyebrows, and shook it off, summing it up to a tree branch. But then she heard the sound again, and then again. Y/N stood up from the floor and walked over to the window, finding the culprit standing on the ground.
Y/N’s eyes widened as she saw Bradley, draw his arm back to fling another rock at the window, but she quickly opened her window, “What the hell are you doing!?” She seethed.
“Oh! You’re awake!” He slurred.
“You’re drunk,” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“A bit,” Bradley shrugged, “Come down here, please?” Y/N shook her head, “I’ll keep throwing rocks.”
“Brad-”
“There you go with my name again!”
Y/N huffed and shifted her weight on her feet, “If I come down there will you shut up?” Bradley nodded eagerly, “Can’t believe I’m doing this,” Y/N muttered to herself as she pushed her window open more.
Bradley watched her with wide eyes as she swung her leg over the window sill and reached for the white lattice that hung on the side of the house. From where he was standing, he had the perfect view up her nightgown, and could see the soft lace panties she wore. He had to look away before he got hard, but he also wanted to watch how gracefully she climbed down the lattice, as if she had done this a million times before. She landed on her feet with a soft grunt, the grass felt cold under her bare feet.
“I’m here now,” Y/N said, holding her arms out to present herself, “What do you want?”
“A kiss,” Bradley said and Y/N scoffed, “Or an explanation, for why you are here.”
“Bradley, I can’t-”
“Again with the name,” He cut her off, “Three times in one day.”
Y/N couldn’t help the smile that tugged on her lips. She shook her head and took a step forward and grabbed his shirt collar, bringing him down for a kiss.
Bradley was right, he liked Y/N’s kisses better. She was bold too, like Olivia, but she was also gentle. Y/N’s lips tasted like vanilla with a hint of the strawberries that she had for dessert. He liked the soft touch of her nightgown. It gave her a sort of innocence. It definitely confused him even more as to why she was here.
When air was needed, she pulled away from him, and licked her swollen lips, “You got your kiss. Now, can you please-”
“Bradley,” A voice cut through the air and Y/N took a big step away from him. He suddenly felt like he was put under a spotlight as he stood in front of Y/N’s Grandmother. Her eyes were narrowed on the boy, but Y/N was the one to hang her head in shame, “You ought to be goin’ home, son.”
“Yes Mrs. Lawton,” Bradley nodded. The elder woman looked between the two teenagers, taking in the sight of her granddaughter’s guilty appearance before heading back inside, “Y/N, I’m so-”
Y/N picked her head, and Bradley’s heart broke at the sight of tears in her eyes, “Please. . . stay away from me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and Bradley nodded. He stood still in his spot as he watched her run back inside the small house.
He sighed and looked up at the stars, “I can really use some help here, dad.”
The moment the backdoor shut, Gran turned her head and looked at her granddaughter. Y/N was preparing herself to have to go pack her bags and be sent to the group home that Craig wanted to send her too. Y/N stood in the doorway and fiddled with the edges of her night gown, waiting for Gran to say anything. Instead, the old woman walked out of the kitchen, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.
— — —
Y/N was woken up early on Sunday morning by a simple knock on her door. She wasn’t in a deep sleep anyway, her mind was running a mile a minute. Y/N got dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and headed downstairs. Gran was sitting at the kitchen table, coffee in her hand reading over the paper. Breakfast had already been made which surprised Y/N, usually she had to help with breakfast.
“Where’s Pops?” Y/N asked.
“Sunday mornings are diner mornings,” Gran said, flipping a page of the newspaper, “Eat up, we got church to go to.”
Y/N nodded, though Gran could not see, too consumed by reading the obituaries. They were the same in that regard, it was a bit morbid, but it was a way of keeping tabs on people they might’ve forgotten. Y/N grabbed a plate from the cabinet and made herself a plate of eggs, bacon and a biscuit. She sat down across from Gran, and ate in painful silence. She suddenly wished she could go back in time to the awkward dinner last night.
“So Bradley,” Gran spoke up, taking a sip from her cup, “Nice boy.”
“He is,” Y/N muttered, pushing around the eggs on her plate.
“You know. . . you’re a good kid too,” Gran said, and set the newspaper down, “Your mom just didn’t know how to raise you, she was still a kid herself. A baby raising a baby,” Gran shook her head. All Y/N could do was nod, “But those are the boys you need to be careful of. Your daddy was a nice boy too.”
Y/N had never met her dad. Her mom said that he was a deadbeat and walked away the moment she told him she was pregnant. Growing up, that’s always what Y/N believed, it had been ingrained in her by her mother to hate her father. But Y/N could vividly remember the day that a man who had the same eyes as her showed up on her Gran’s front steps and demanded to see her. It took Pops and her Uncle Jack to push the man away from the door. And she had never seen him again, nor did she ever ask about the man who came to the door.
“Did you know my dad well?” Y/N asked, barely above a whisper and Gran sighed.
“We still sit behind his parents in Church every Sunday. He talked about joining the Army since he was a little boy. . . Kinda poetic, that's the way he went out.”
“Wait,” Y/N said and sat up straighter in her chair, “My dad, h-he’s-”
“Buried at the Veterans Memorial,” Gran said softly, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Taking in a shaky breath, Y/N nodded, “It’s alright. C-can I be dismissed?”
“Yeah, half an hour till church,” Gran said.
— — —
Y/N wasn’t sure what to feel as she sat in the church pew next to her Gran. Every so often she would see Gran nudge Pops to keep him awake while the pastor droned on about the significance of the Wedding at Cana. Y/N had heard this story a million times, when Jesus turned water into wine. It was one of the very first stories that she could remember hearing when she was a child. She tried her hardest to not stare at the couple sitting in front of her, but she couldn’t help it.
She wondered if they knew about her, knew who she belonged to. In her head, Y/N had always imagined the day she would meet her father. That he would probably be coming back in some sort of uniform, and be able to pick her out of a crowd of hundreds. It made it hurt even more that he was a man in uniform like she had dreamt and that he did come home, but she never knew it.
“Now, go, and greet thy neighbor in the sharing of peace,” Y/N picked up her head at the pastor’s words and as the congregation started milling about, shaking each other’s hands.
Pops smiled as he reached over and grabbed Y/N’s hand, “Peace be with you, buck.”
Y/N smiled, “Peace be with you, old man.”
‘Buck’ had been her nickname since she was born in the spring during hunting season. Pops said that she had been as wild as a buck when she was born, coming quickly and early. Her mom said that it was if Y/N was trying to win a race for fastest labor ever. Gran said that was the last time Y/N had ever been early to anything in her life.
Y/N wiped her hands nervously on her dress as she looked around, seeing her grandparents talk to different people in the congregation. They had immersed themselves in the church when they first moved to Virginia Beach. The church was their home, their friends, their second family. Y/N was about to sit back down on the pew when she felt a nudge on her arm. She turned to see Bradley, dressed in khaki pants and a pink button up. His hair looked a little better tamed but he still had that ridiculous thing he called a mustache on his upper lip.
“Peace be with you, ‘Anna,” Bradley said, holding his hand out.
“‘Anna’?” Y/N asked, shaking his hand.
“Short for Louisiana,” Bradley smiled and Y/N giggled, shaking her head.
Gran could see Y/N from across the church where she was talking to Margret Freed. Deep down she knew that Bradley wasn’t trouble. He was a good kid, had a bright future ahead of him, but got dealt a shitty hand at life. Bradley reminded Gran a lot of Michael, Y/N’s dad. In a way, Gran thought she was protecting Y/N from the same heartbreak and future that her mother had. But she was also pushing her right towards it.
When church was dismissed, Bradley and Y/N found themselves sitting on top of a picnic bench outside in the shade. Gran was busy teaching Sunday school and Carole was in her bible study. The two of them sat in silence and watched the trees sway back and forth. Bradley was starting to sweat in his polo, and wished that he could’ve worn a t-shirt and gym shorts instead of the starched clothing that his mother picked out. But at least Y/N looked cool, she looked like a dream in her white sundress that hit about mid-knee, and was a bit off the shoulder. Bradley had a perfect view of her perfect collarbones and the silver cross necklace that dangled between her breasts.
“Quit starin’ at my boobs, Brandon,” Y/N said, her eyes closed as she leaned back on her hands, feeling the sweet summer breeze roll across her body. With every brush of wind through her hair, Bradley could smell her apple scented shampoo.
“Back to the name thing huh,” Bradley smiled and looked down at his van covered feet.
Y/N smiled and opened her eyes, sitting up a bit. She slid to the edge of the picnic table and set her now bare feet on the bench, “Do you know that couple who was sitting in front of me and my grandparents?”
Bradley nodded, “I think so. Tall guy, graying hair standing next to a short red-haired woman?” Bradley asked and you nodded, “I’m pretty sure that’s doctor Peterson and his wife Sam. Why?”
“I never knew my dad,” Y/N said and Bradley looked up at her. For once he saw a look of uncertainty in her eye and it almost frightened him. He reached over and grabbed one of her fidgeting hands and held it in his, “Apparently. . . those are my grandparents. My dad, he uh. . . he died?”
Bradley nodded again, “Yeah. . .” Michael Peterson’s funeral had been the second military funeral that Bradley had ever gone to. He could remember every single military funeral he went to vividly, they were all the same, but with a different picture to salute.
Y/N swallowed and pulled her hand away from Bradley, immediately feeling a coldness rush over her body. She stood up from the picnic table and wiped her hands on her dress.
“I should go check in with Gran,” Y/N said, starting to walk away but Bradley grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“Tex. . . you’re giving me whiplash,” Bradley said and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “One day I’m finding you naked in the lake, and the next, you’re telling me to stay away from you and now-”
“You’re a nice boy,” Y/N said, cutting him off and Bradley looked confused, “Gran says I need to stay away from nice boys like you. You have a future. You’re going to become a pilot and be god knows where. I. . . I don’t even know where I’ll be a month from now. I don’t need to be dragging you into trouble with me.”
Bradley held her hand in his, “But,”
“But,” Y/N swallowed, “I can’t stay away from you no matter how hard I try.”
Bradley smiled and slid off the table, pulling her against him. He gently ran his hand over her cheek, holding her face in his palm. He tilted her head up a bit to look at him. Her eyes were always so sweet, as if they were pools of honey. It was as if the electricity between them was pulling them in closer and closer until their lips connected. Y/N sighed into the kiss as her arms wrapped around his neck. Bradley’s hands rested on her hips, holding her close to him. It felt natural to have her in his arms. Bradley’s tongue licked at her bottom lip and she pulled away.
“Probably not the best idea to be makin’ out in front of the church,” She said breathlessly and Bradley chuckled.
“Probably not,” He answered and pecked her lips, “But, I know a spot, meet me tomorrow night.”
“But what about my grandparents?”
Bradley shook his head, “It’s bridge night. My mom and your grandmother usually go together. It’ll be fine.”
“I trust you, Bryan,” Y/N smiled.
“Scouts honor, Tennessee.”
Y/N giggled as she pulled her hands away from Bradley and began to walk back towards the church. Bradley watched her walk away, like an angel in human form. He touched his lips softly, still buzzing from the heated kiss that they shared. He knew it was probably the dumbest thing he had ever done, but he had fallen head over heels in love.
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#top gun#top gun fan fic#top gun fan fiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fan fic#top gun maverick fan fiction#top gun maverick imagine#Bradley Bradshaw#Bradley Bradshaw fan fic#Bradley Bradshaw fan fiction#Bradley Bradshaw imagine#Bradley Bradshaw x reader#Bradley Bradshaw x you#Bradley Bradshaw x y/n#Bradley rooster Bradshaw#rooster bradshaw#rooster#rooster fan fic#rooster fan fiction#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster x y/n#Bradley & Tex#night moves
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Covetous | Chapter 14
Pairing: Nostelle or Macelle , who is to say which (I feel like it’s obvious which)
Summary: Father Joseph MacAvoy wakes up in a library across town with no idea of how he got there. When the kind librarian doesn’t kick him out immediately, he considers that maybe there’s more to life than alcohol.
[chapter 1] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5] [chapter 6] [chapter 7] [chapter 8] [chapter 9] [chapter 10] [chapter 11] [chapter 12] [chapter 13]
[read on ao3]
To get the church ready for mass, Belle decided she should stay the weekend. It had nothing to do with being near Nosty.
Friday, they all went out and had breakfast for dinner, and then Belle spent the evening simultaneously teaching Nosty how to use his new phone and Joseph how to use the office computer. By the end of the night, they had managed to print a sign for the church door about sunday mass being held and program three numbers into Nosty’s phone—Belle’s, Kathryn’s, and Joseph’s.
Belle knew Nosty had seen a smartphone—she had one, after all—but he had never used one before, and she was surprised by his unbridled delight at the camera. He took pictures of her, the church, even one of Joseph glaring at the computer screen.
Saturday morning, Belle woke early to find Nosty’s room empty. She swallowed the urge to panic. Nosty had told her that he slept lightly, and she had seen for herself that he was more often than not awake. She headed for the kitchen to make coffee and found a pot already brewed. Joseph’s door was still closed, so it had to have been Nosty.
After making herself a cup, she threw a jacket on over her pajamas—pants and a t-shirt for staying in the church—and headed downstairs.
Nosty sat on a bench out front, drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette.
“Morning,” she said, not wanting to startle him.
Of course, Nosty was never startled. Still watching the trees across the parking lot, he raised his mug to her.
“Can I sit with you?” she asked.
He patted the spot next to him and she sat, surprised when his arm came around her to pull her closer. They both watched the squirrels darting up and down the trees, birds chirping in the early morning light. She could envision doing this with Nosty every morning, on a little front porch that was all their own.
“Do you do this every day?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I used to sit and watch when I woke up, but I never had anything nice to look at. Never had hot coffee either.”
She laced her free hand through his. Belle had never liked the morning after sleeping with another person whether it had been sexual or not, but waking up with Nosty felt as natural as waking up alone. She wanted every morning to start with Nosty holding his arm out to her, drawing her into him as they watched the world wake up around them.
“You’ll be cleaning and tidying this morning, yeah?” Nosty asked.
“I think so,” Belle said. “I don’t want Joseph to do this alone.”
He traced his thumb along her hip. “Might go out for a bit.”
In the peace of the early hour, she found no hint of suspicion in her. There had been plenty of times where she’d thought Nosty was going to wander off and he hadn’t, and he certainly hadn’t since their reunion. Maybe she trusted him a little.
“Where to?”
“I want to take pictures of where they broke up the camp, now I’ve got a fancy camera,” he said. “Maybe it’ll help the solicitor.”
Belle was surprised at the logic of that, though she’d be even more surprised if the police had left anything of their camp intact. “Do you want me to drive you over there?”
He barked with laughter. “Absolutely not. You stay here.”
“Why is that funny?” She frowned. “I’d stay in the car if you wanted me to.”
He drained his coffee and set the mug down, still smirking. “Aye, and what if someone saw me get in your car, hey?”
“So?”
He tapped her on the nose with his now-free finger, and his amusement was contagious, but Belle fought to hide her own smile.
“So, say a bloke sees King Nosty, the savior, getting into a nice car with a nice bird. What about my reputation?”
“First of all,” Belle pointed to her car in the parking lot. “That is not a nice car. That is an absolutely ancient car held together by luck. Second, your reputation as King Nosty? The savior?”
“Aye, I saved them, that’s what the solicitor said, remember?” He squeezed her to him once, then stood and stretched. “Besides, wouldn’t want anyone to follow you because they see us together. Could be dangerous.”
“Your friends would do that?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Dunno. Plenty of ‘em en’t in their right mind, yeah?” He mimed a syringe at the bend of his elbow.
“Do you want me to drive you somewhere closer, then?”
He picked up his mug and dangled it from one finger, watching it rock back and forth. “Fine, thanks.” He spun around and pointed at her. “But do not follow me.”
“I won’t, I promise!”
Half an hour later, dropping him off by the library, she wanted nothing more than to follow him. She didn’t know if it was her conscience that stopped her or the fact that Nosty observed everything and would see her, but she did convince herself to drive back to the church with the promise of picking Nosty back up when he called her.
It was nice that he could call her now. Instead of worrying over him, she would think of that and that alone.
****
MacAvoy spent the first part of his morning curled around the toilet, wracked with a nausea that he prayed wasn’t food poisoning. It was amazing how much worse vomiting was while sober. Drunk, it was almost a relief, but gagging over a bowl in full control of his mind was like purgatory.
“Joseph? Are you all right?” Belle called. He groaned. Of course she’d found him like this.
“Fantastic.”
“I’ll set some water outside the door, okay?”
He grunted a response, though it was another relief when the clink of glass told him the water was there.
After another twenty minutes of sweat, retch, and watery eyes, he thought the worst of it was done, so he brushed his teeth and staggered to the kitchen. Belle sat at the table, drinking a cup of tea and eating a scone with jam while she read the paper.
“Where’s Nosty?” he asked.
“Taking some photos.” Belle set her paper down. “Do you feel up to eating? I made scones.”
His stomach lurched and he shook his head, making for the coffee pot instead. On his way back to the table, he grabbed a bag of digestive biscuits to nibble on, though he wished he could stomach Belle’s scones. When had she even had the time to bake? Nosty’s presence had reinvigorated her spirit when his friendship couldn’t. Of course.
“So.” Belle leaned forward, hands around her mug. “I’m all yours for the day. What do we need to do to get the church ready for mass?”
****
He’d been concerned that he would forget something, would fuck it all up trying to do the right thing with his church for the first time in years, but it was like riding a bike. The muscle memory led him and Belle all around the church, gathering materials from closets that hadn’t been opened in years.
At some point, as he set up the altar and refreshed all the candles while Belle swept the sanctuary floor, he realized he would have to hire some staff back. Even if he didn’t have a big congregation anymore, he’d need a janitor. No one would come to services if it was dusty, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask Belle to clean every weekend.
After three solid hours, everything but Father MacAvoy himself was ready for the public. His stomach had calmed enough for him to eat, so he sat at the table with one of Belle’s scones and a cup of tea while she diced up a zucchini.
“How are things with Nosty?” he asked. He’d assumed that Nosty would attach himself to Belle like a shadow, and so was surprised to get this chance to speak candidly. He wouldn’t waste it.
“Good, I think.” She tossed the zucchini into a frying pan with a glug of oil, right next to a pot of boiling water. “The solicitor seems to think she can at least keep him out of prison.”
“That’s good.” Did that mean that Nosty was going to live with him indefinitely? Sure, he didn’t quake in his boots at the sight of him anymore, but the only time they got along was when Belle was there to mediate. Nosty did not like him.
“I’m sorry we haven’t gotten to spend much time together,” she said. “It’s kind of shocking, I feel like we were joined at the hip while I was miserable. How are you feeling?”
She had moved to chopping a fistful of herbs, but he had no idea what kind. He’d figure it out eventually when she put food in front of him. He knew Belle liked to cook, but he’d never seen her like this. She had never been this happy.
“Better than this morning.” Part of him wanted to stand behind her and run a hand through her hair, like she was cooking for him because they were a couple. He crushed that urge. If nothing else, Nosty wouldn’t hesitate to stab him. “Nervous.”
“Well, you know I’ll be right there in the audience.” Her knife stilled. “Congregation?”
“Congregation,” he agreed. “I’ll have to write a sermon tonight.”
She scooped her pile of chopped herbs into a bowl, then plopped a lemon on the cutting board before rooting through the drawers.
“I’ll help however I can, though I don’t know much about scripture. What do you have to zest a lemon with?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never zested a lemon.”
She scoffed, but he saw the corner of her mouth from his angle which meant she was smiling anyway as she found a potato peeler in a drawer and set to work peeling off strips of lemon rind.
“How are you and Nosty getting along in the kitchen?” She tossed two of the strips in with the zucchini before lining the rest up to mince like the herbs.
“Horribly, but we’re both eating.”
“Horribly? What’s the problem?”
Truly, it was both of them. MacAvoy was a miserable cook and Nosty was impatient, a combination that had thus far only ended in just-edible disaster.
“Big learning curve,” he said. “Neither of us is much in the kitchen. Great scone, by the way.”
She flashed a smile at him before adding the zest into her herb bowl, and then her phone rang. “Shit, that’s Nosty, can you grab it?”
He didn’t want to answer Belle’s phone if Nosty was calling, but it wasn’t an unreasonable enough request to say no.
“It’s me,” he said in lieu of hello.
“Where’s Belle? You fucking putting her to work while you lounge in your fainting chair all day?”
He gritted his teeth, but Belle had in fact been working on his behalf all day. “What do you want?”
“I’m about two kilometers from the library.”
“So?”
“Can you put him on speaker?” Belle asked, scraping her zucchini into a bowl.
MacAvoy did in time for Belle to hear, “—fucking so? I called her, not you, you useless fucking shite, what’s the point of having a mobile if—”
“Nosty, you’re on speaker!” Belle called, looking far more amused than MacAvoy felt.
“Belle, I’m about two kilometers from the library and this eejit wants me to sit and rot there.”
Amazing how Nosty could carry on at him and then somehow make him look like the eejit.
“You’ll probably be there before us, but we’re leaving in a minute.” Belle covered her herb bowl with a wet paper towel and her zucchini bowl with a dry one, then turned off all the hobs on the stove.
“We?” Nosty asked. “He’s coming?”
“Sounds like it,” MacAvoy muttered.
“Oi, Father, cheer up, you been moping all week about missing your library wank ti—”
MacAvoy jammed the speakerphone button so that Belle wouldn’t hear whatever Nosty was going to say, especially since he obviously did not wank in the library, or anywhere for that matter—except for his brief indiscretion in the shower all those weeks ago, but since that was clearly the work of Satan, it didn’t count.
“We’ll be right there!” he said, voice cracking like a pubescent boy, and hung up without another word.
“Joseph, you know that I know he’s teasing you, right?” Belle asked, somehow already wearing a sweater.
“He’s rude.” MacAvoy stood, dismayed that he’d only managed to eat half a scone. Would he ever enjoy food again?
“I know, but it’s not like I take what he says about you as gospel.” She took his elbow, guiding him out of the kitchen so he could grab his own jacket. “I’m not judging you based on what he says.”
He supposed that did make him feel better, but he didn’t quite believe her. Nosty had her wrapped around his finger—if he said it would make him happy if she jumped, she’d ask how high. It was only a matter of time before he turned her against him. Everyone else had always turned against the pathetic, drunk priest.
****
MacAvoy was going to have to find a minute alone to confess privately about the savage pleasure he took in Nosty riding in the backseat on the way back to the church. He’d almost thought that Belle would make them switch, but either she didn’t notice Nosty’s pout or she wasn’t as wrapped around his finger as MacAvoy thought.
“Did you get what you were looking for?” she asked.
“Nah, you were right,” he said. “Nothing left.”
“What were you looking for?” MacAvoy asked.
Belle and Nosty’s eyes met in the rearview. You’re in the front seat, MacAvoy reminded himself.
“You tell him,” Nosty said. “Did you bring me anything?”
Belle smiled, and MacAvoy felt like they were speaking another language. What had Belle even had time to bring him? They’d all but run out of the church.
“In my purse,” she said. “Nosty went to see if he could get pictures of the camp that the police destroyed, but they’d already removed all traces. Did you see any of your friends?”
“Friends?” Nosty ripped into a packet of trail mix with his teeth. Did Belle have a grocery store in her bag? “You mean my legions of devoted subjects?”
“Oh, the jury won’t like if you get a swelled head, will they?”
Nosty grinned, tossing a handful of nuts and raisins into his mouth.
“So did you see anyone?” MacAvoy asked.
“Sure, I saw ‘em.”
“Is that a good thing?” Belle asked.
Nosty shrugged. MacAvoy understood—if he could have held services and known that no one who had ever seen him drink would be there, he would feel a lot less nervous. There were stakes to fucking up in public. What had Nosty said to him the first time they met? Once a fuckup, always a fuckup?
“You didn’t speak to them,” MacAvoy said.
“No point, is there?” Nosty’s trail mix bag sat half-full in his hand, but he just stared at the window into the greying afternoon. “They all think I’m in jail. Won’t be happy to see me clean and fed and taken care of.”
MacAvoy sat back in his seat, only vaguely aware of Belle responding. It had never occurred to him that Nosty had friends on the street, that to come with Belle meant leaving people behind. And not just leaving people behind, but leaving them in a bad spot. Perhaps Nosty felt guilty for being clean and fed and taken care of?
He watched Belle’s profile as she chatted. She was so unwaveringly kind, and her kindness had saved every man in that car. Who was he to feel bitter and resentful?
A piece of shit who’d gotten off to the idea of having to be her savior, that was who.
Belle didn’t need saving, he did. Maybe he and Nosty had more in common than he thought.
****
Once the idea was in his head, MacAvoy could not carry on with his mass preparations without clearing the air. After sending Belle into the church’s pitiful library to find a theology text for him that he guessed he would have to reference, he cornered Nosty outside his bedroom.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Nosty folded his arms and stared down at him. They were about the same height, but somehow MacAvoy felt meters shorter than the other man.
“About what?” He spread his feet. “You here to finally admit you want Belle for yourself?”
MacAvoy swallowed. What if he did admit that? What would happen then? But no, that wasn’t what he’d come here for.
“No. I wanted to propose a truce.”
Nosty raised an eyebrow, teeth bared as usual, but MacAvoy stood his ground. Well, he took a step back, and then he stood his ground.
“A truce?”
“Yes.” MacAvoy nodded and his stomach roiled. Perhaps anxiety and withdrawal did not mix. “We both owe our current fortunes to Belle, so we should make an effort. For her.”
Nosty licked his lips, staring off somewhere over MacAvoy’s left shoulder. He hoped Belle wasn’t there, or she’d put together that he’d sent her off on a fool’s errand.
“Fine,” Nosty said. “For her.” He grabbed a fistful of MacAvoy’s shirt and pulled him closer. “But if you cause her even an ounce of harm, hot sauce is gonna be the least of your worries, ken?”
MacAvoy shook with fear, but something else peeked through—what right did Nosty have to menace him? About as much right as MacAvoy had to be jealous. “Oh, because you’ve never hurt her?”
“I would never lay a finger on her.” Nosty released him, then folded his arms again.
MacAvoy spluttered. “And you think I would?”
“Joseph, I found it!” Belle’s voice floated out to them from closer than was comfortable.
“I do not trust priests,” Nosty hissed, jabbing him in the chest once before sliding away from him.
“Great!” MacAvoy called, hoarse. He rubbed his chest. What just happened?
****
Even though he was trying to think nicer thoughts, MacAvoy still left their conversation convinced that Nosty was going to do something to mark his territory.
It turned out he didn’t need to because MacAvoy didn’t even have a chance to claim her time. Belle’s only concern was that MacAvoy write his sermon, so she set him at the table in the rec room with a bible, the book he’d asked her to find, her laptop, and a legal pad, then sat on the couch with a book. Nosty had joined her immediately with a book of his own.
He tried to work on his sermon, he really did, but it was so hard when Belle and Nosty were right in front of him, sharing a blanket so he couldn’t see if their legs were tangled together, couldn’t know how often they looked up and smiled at one another unless he was watching.
Then, all at once, that wasn’t why he was watching. Belle relaxed into the couch while she read, brow furrowed in concentration, but he’d seen that before. What he hadn’t seen was Nosty, face smooth and carefree, shoulders back and head against the couch, wearing a sweatshirt for the uni that MacAvoy was pretty sure Belle attended. Relaxed. He wanted to memorize the image to draw upon it any time the bitterness threatened.
Nosty was just a man who’d fallen on hard times, just like him. He wasn’t a monster.
“Fucking hell.” Nosty slammed his book shut, and MacAvoy jumped, but Belle just laughed.
“So you got to the tower?” Belle asked.
“I got to the fucking tower.”
MacAvoy had no idea what they were talking about, but Belle was laughing and Nosty’s smile wasn’t mean at all, and for a second, he understood. He understood who Belle saw when she looked at Nosty, why his absence had destroyed her.
What he didn’t understand, as Belle went back to her book and Nosty only pretended to while he watched her over the pages with an expression akin to reverence, was how Nosty had just thrown it all away.
“Having troubles, Father?” Nosty asked, and MacAvoy jumped.
Belle looked up. “Do you need help?”
“Probably,” he said. “But neither of you studied theology.”
“How d’you know?” Nosty said. “Maybe I went to fucking Catholic school.”
“Did you go to Catholic school?” Belle asked before he could.
“Aye, I did, when I was seven. Foster family knew the headmaster.”
“That was a long time ago,” MacAvoy said while Belle’s gaze drifted away. What was she thinking about? “And they don’t teach theology to seven-year-olds.”
“Why don’t you talk about getting sober?” Belle said.
MacAvoy shook his head. “I’m still too much in the thick of it. I wouldn’t know what to say.” And privately, he thought that was too good a sermon topic to waste on a service that he figured he’d be lucky to see five people attend.
“Talk about temptation,” Nosty said. “Don’t Jesus freaks live for that shite?”
MacAvoy clenched his teeth. Was he a “Jesus freak?” “I could do that.”
“Let me know if I can help,” Belle said, but she was already turning back to her book. “I can look for quotes or read articles or just bounce ideas.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. This was going to be a long night.
If only he could write about the way Belle’s hair kept falling into her eyes, and how, after three or four times of her moving it, Nosty shut his book and scooted to his knees so he could tuck the strands behind her ear, then brush his fingertips along her jaw.
They stared at one another, Belle’s ears reddening, and then Belle thanked him and he leaned back. MacAvoy was an intruder on this moment, but neither acknowledged him. He was just a fly on the wall, an observer in their love story. Thank god his cock didn’t twinge.
****
Belle laid in bed in her church pajamas, staring at the ceiling. Nosty’s room was just across the hall. It would be so easy to tiptoe over, to tap on his door and see if he’d been lying awake for the last hour thinking about her too.
With Joseph there as a chaperone, Belle had resisted the urge to crawl into Nosty’s lap while she read, to settle herself between his knees and be held again. Now she had no chaperone. No one would stop her except herself, and the longer she laid there, the less resolved she was to stay in her own bed.
Was it brave to go to Nosty now? Or would it be braver to deny herself?
A soft bird noise floated through the crack under the door and she frowned. What did that mean?
But when it sounded again, she leapt out of bed, biting back a grin. Opening the door revealed Nosty, just as she’d hoped. He rested a forearm on the frame and leaned in.
“Thought about throwing pebbles at your window, but this was faster,” he said, voice low.
“I don’t think Father MacAvoy would be happy if I let you in my room so late.”
“Would you be happy?”
In response, she opened the door wide and sat on the foot of the bed. He shut it behind him so quietly, even she barely heard it.
When Nosty sat next to her, the mattress groaned, and they both glanced at the wall that adjoined Joseph’s room.
“You couldn’t sleep either?” Belle asked.
He shook his head. “Too loud.”
Belle’s brow furrowed. “Loud? It’s silent as a grave here. It doesn’t even feel like London to me.”
“Not outside.” He tapped his head. “Loud.”
She took his hand and squeezed. “How can I help?”
Closing his eyes, he tilted his forehead against hers. “You could let me throw you on the bed and fuck you senseless.” His grin told her he was teasing—although she was sure if she’d agreed, he wouldn’t have said no—but that didn’t stop the heat that flared between her legs.
“Nosty.”
“Bet it would be the best sex the Father’s ever had, listening to you come on the other side of his wall,” he murmured, and this time, it didn’t seem to be a joke. “By the third or fourth time, he’d probably pass out.”
“The third or fourth?” Her body remembered how it felt last time, how spent she’d been laying in his arms. “I don’t think I could.”
He threaded his free hand through her hair and rubbed his nose against hers, so close their lips almost touched.
“I think you could.” He didn’t kiss her, and she craved it, but she held herself still. “I’ll bet he wonders what you’d sound like.”
“Nosty, stop.”
He didn’t pull back, but he didn’t speak again. Belle swallowed to get her breathing under control.
“Why are you so stuck on him?”
“He’s a fucking priest.”
Belle leaned back so she could breathe. “So?”
“I hate him.”
“I don’t think you do.” She grabbed his face in both hands, leaning further back to look at him. His jaw pulsed under her palms, and when he opened his eyes, she almost cowered. But she knew the rage wasn’t at her, and she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
“What are you hiding from?” she asked.
“I’m not hiding from anything.” He kissed her palm. “I’m telling you how much I want you.”
“Nosty, I’m not going to sleep with you tonight,” she said.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Belle, please.”
“Nosty!”
“I’m sad, all right?” He opened his eyes, and whatever fire had been there turned to anguish. “I don’t want to be in here anymore.” He tapped his head again. “Please.”
She let go of him and climbed to the head of the bed, turning the comforter down before holding her arms out to him. He crawled toward her, and once he was in her arms, she tucked them in together.
“You know, I read somewhere that holding hands can help ease the sadness.” She groped around until she found his hand, and then he clutched her fingers between his. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
He shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Can’t you just pretend I’m sad because I want to fuck you?” he whispered into her neck.
“I will not pretend that.”
He clung to her so tightly, she was afraid he’d hurt his injury, but she could deal with that if she had to. She stroked his scalp between his locks, then twirled one around her finger.
“You’ll be angry,” he said.
“Nosty, you can always tell me how you feel, and I promise I won’t be angry.”
He nuzzled into her neck and mumbled something.
“What?”
“They destroyed my home.”
She swallowed. Of course. He’d gone back to his camp that morning and found nothing. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know it wasn’t much of a home. I know this one’s better. But it was mine, and they crushed it.”
She wished she had wisdom to offer, something useful to say. All she had was the sympathy tears building behind her eyes. “It’s awful, the way they treated you.”
“Everyone thinks it’s just fine.” He pressed his eyes to her neck. “The coppers, the doctors. They think we’re fucking rats because we don’t sleep in a bed. You know, they didn’t even save me fucking shirt at the hospital? One fucking shirt and it’s on me back, and they toss it like a rag as soon as I take it off.”
His shoulders shook, and he somehow clutched her even tighter.
“They don’t even see me as human. I’m just a piece of fucking sentient rubbish.”
“I know you’re human,” Belle said. “And I’ve always known.”
“I know.” He swallowed, and she tried not to laugh when his Adam’s apple tickled her chest. “I tried to call you from the hospital.”
“What?” How had she missed him? “You did?” She’d been so available to him the whole time, how could he not have reached her?
“Aye.” Somehow, he burrowed deeper into her neck. “When they said I wasn’t getting a section two, I asked them to call your library because I didn’t know your mobile. They said just because you didn’t kick me out, doesn’t mean you want to hear me whinging.”
The fury that blasted through her surprised her. She’d never felt so hot with rage that she wanted to destroy something, wanted to find that doctor and crush their neck with her bare hands.
“Fuck them,” she said.
Nosty rumbled with laughter, and then his shoulders shook again, and then he was sobbing into her neck. The rage bled out of her as she held him, stroking his hair and rocking him.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “You don’t have to worry anymore, Nosty. I’m here.”
She didn’t know how long he cried, but she didn’t let go, and it wasn’t until he settled that she wiped the tears from her own eyes.
Nosty loosened his grip on her and pushed himself up. “Can I sleep here?”
“I thought that was a given,” she said.
“Good. I want to hold you now.”
“You don’t want to be held, just this once?” she asked. She felt bad that she was always the one who got to feel strong arms around her. She wanted him to get to be the little spoon.
“Nah.” He pulled away enough for her to shift comfortably onto her pillows, then wrapped himself around her. “I like knowing I have something worth protecting other than meself.”
She bit her lip, wanting to turn around and kiss him, but settled for resting her hands on his.
“I’ll protect you too,” she said. “No one will ever treat you badly again if I’m there.”
He kissed the back of her head. “And I’ll shank anyone who lays a finger on you.”
She snorted. “A perfect team.”
“Aye. Perfect.”
She tried to stay awake until she knew Nosty had fallen asleep, but as usual, it was hard to keep her eyes open whilst being so tenderly cradled in his arms, and she fell asleep without another thought about the insomnia from earlier.
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How to survive being sick
Hey girlies,
according to instagram and friends Germany seems to be struck by a wave of sickness.
Everyone and their momma is at home, coughing, sweating and if they’re really lucky even vomiting.
I am no expection, I’m sitting on my couch with laryngitis, unable to talk and with a fever. Love that for me.
I really thought that my immune system was getting better…well…apparently it’s not. I browsed the web, asked my boss and uncle (both doctors) for their best tips and tricks to a) survive this madness and b) build a stronger immune system.
Eat your vegetables and fruits. Please. I am begging you. Your body needs vitamins and minerals to stay strong and fight off all those nasty viruses and bacterias. If you don’t like eating veggies and fruit grow up then make or buy yourself a smoothie.
Drink enough. Water, lightly sweetened tea, chickenbroth or vegetablebroth – whatever keeps you going but your body needs liquid! Especially if you’re coughing – you need to drink even more so you’re body is able to get rid of all that disgusting mucus.
Inhale. Fill up a pot with hot water, dump a chamomile teabag into it, throw a towel over your head and inhale the steam. Clears your sinuses and is also good for your skin.
Make sure that you stay warm. Especially your feet.
If you’re dieting and sick – please change your calorie intake at least up to your maintenance calories. Your body needs those calories in those times.
I supplement vitamin C, vitamin B12 and vitamin D.
Sleep. I mean it. Try to sleep as much as you can. I am currently sleeping like 8-10hrs.
Selfcare. Try to stay updated if possible. Brush your teeth and your hair, wash your face and wear deodorant.
Change your toothbrush – you don’t want all those sick germs back in your mouth and possibly get sick again.
Fresh air. Go outside for 15 minutes if you can. If you’re not able sit in front of an open window.
I hope this helps!
S
#highsociety#hypergamy#high maintenance#hypergamous woman#baby heaux#heaux#heaux tips#high maintenance heaux#hypergamous mindset#health#leveled up mindset#leveling up journey#high class#hypergamyblr#hyper feminine#hyperfemininity#trophy heaux#trophy wives
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I’m also just kind of annoyed at That Guy in general right now.
On Monday I put things on the shopping list, then we get to the store and either I will take off to Goodwill for a moment or to look at toys while the boys go around and do whatever, then catch up to them later.
If I don’t double check what’s in the cart, That Guy will skip stuff from the list on purpose because he doesn’t like spending money even/especially if it’s on food for his family and then I have to run all over the store and grab what he skipped.
Sometimes I wonder if he does that on purpose so I feel a need to stay with him at the store instead of getting a few blissful moments of By Myself AND Not Trapped in the House once a week at the fucking Walmart.
- This past week I’d put drink sticks (pre-portioned, sucralose instead of sugar electrolyte mix-ins that are Red-40-free) on the list even though we still had like 5 of them. They come in a pack of 8 and Son has decided he gets one every day which I’m really not going to complain about because he doesn’t eat a wide variety of foods and those drink sticks have some vitamins he’s missing.
As you can see, that means none for anyone else.
At first I was getting two boxes per week so I could also get those extra, easily consumed vitamins, and then randomly That Guy decided we were getting one box per week even though we easily consumed two and it’s dry goods that keep so a surplus isn’t going to rot.
I also got a big tub of sugar-Gatorade powder a couple weeks back to make sure that I had some sort of electrolyte source that didn’t require denying it to Son, but That Guy’s using it all up.
Anyway.
We had a few extra drink sticks left this past week and I saw an opportunity to go into a small surplus so I could get maybe one or two a week.
Got home, looked for the box to add it to the cup they’re kept in, couldn’t find it, That Guy skipped it because we already had less than a week’s worth at home.
- This past week I also put Cheez It on the list because we were almost out. That Guy had said last week that he doesn’t want to eat them anymore. It was the FIRST time he’d asked if anyone else was eating them instead of just saying “I don’t want to buy that anymore.” and I was surprised. Both Son and I said yes, we eat them, so we should still buy them.
That put the onus on That Guy to not eat them.
We get home from the store, I’m looking for Cheez It to munch because I’m having a hard time with food lately and only wanting to eat bread and crackers, and there’s an empty spot on the shelf in the pantry where they live. I ask Son where they are and he says “Dad doesn’t want to buy them anymore.” and I was like “DAD IS NOT THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS HOUSE,” a point I made WITH That Guy when he initially said he didn’t want to eat them anymore (which I only mention because if I don’t, people assume I haven’t bothered to try).
- 2 boxes of drink sticks and a box of Cheez It are back on the shopping list for next Monday. I also bought a bag of frozen pot stickers for the first time in ages because he’d done the same thing with those. He decided he didn’t want to eat them anymore so instead of him just not eating them, he stopped letting us buy them.
He does this sort of thing a lot where he acts like anything that’s not explicitly for him is not for anyone, no one should have it, and it’s stupid that it even exists/no one should make it. It’s very frustrating.
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Hi, hey, hi, hi, Hello! I’m back! I have my question list! Hello!
What’s Tommy’s opinion on swimming, especially now that he’s a furry raccoon?
Are Tommy’s scars still there but just covered by fur?
Did Tommy’s addiction just… go away or something? With the invisibility potions?
Can Tommy do that heart thing where he makes his lives visible in some way? (I don’t know how to explain it)
Are Dream and Drista siblings?
Can your Tommy sew!? <33333
Will we be getting another turtle pov? (If so, I would be incredibly interested in Raph’s pov, seeing as Tommy was afraid of him for so long, or even Donnie’s again)
What is your favorite color? no reason for asking just curious :D
Thanks for listening to my silly thoughts! Hope you’ve had a good day! <3
Well, he hasn't tried yet, but I'm sure he'd find the added weight of having his fur drenched annoying until he realizes that he can make it everyone elses problem as well by shaking off like a wet dog in their general vicinity lmao
2. Yep! He'd be able to find them if he actually looked for it, fur doesn't really regrow over scars, but he's got more than enough of it to make it impossible to notice.
3. Okay, admittedly, part of it was me forgetting because I am one person without a beta reader to catch my slip ups- but another part of it was that in the lore streams, Tommy seemed to be able to stop taking them, and while he was jittery and nervous for a little bit, he seemed fine not long after? So now my reasoning is that it was like, placebo if that makes sense? He was paranoid that being visible would result in pain or death, so his body ended up reacting accordingly and messing with him because he was so convinced shit was gonna go bad if he wasn't drinking invis pots.
So basically the whole thing was tied to his mental health. Once he felt secure enough in the fact that the turtles weren't going to hurt him (or at least that Mikey and Leo wouldn't and would therefore stop the others if they tried anything) he stopped feeling as compelled to drink invis all the time.
4. I do get what you mean, and nope, that does not happen to be a feature here. Would've had to establish that way earlier on if I was going to do that.
5. Nope. XD and Drista are siblings, Dream is just some cringe loser calling himself a god.
6. Yess :DDD
7. Ahahahahaha, lemme tell ya, the next one is going to be majority one of the turtles pov (won't say which one because of spoilers)
8. Hmmm... Purple and green I suppose? Which is kind of funny considering the fandom I'm in and who my favourite turtle is, but I promise it's been those since before I got here lmao
Of course! Thank you for sharing your silly thoughts, I was happy to answer your questions! You too! <3
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The Night Shift (part 7) (Frankie Morales x F!Reader)
So uh,,,,, it's been a while........ perhaps this is the end of my block? one can only hope. anyway, if you're still here, i love you <3
part 6 part 8
The rain didn’t stop for the rest of the weekend, instead, it seemed to move between a light drizzle in the afternoons to raging storms during the night. It had gotten so bad that Ethan had relented to driving you on both Monday and Tuesday, a task he had bemoaned the entire way. You had sat silently in the passenger seat, watching the water droplets on the window.
“I can’t pick you up in the morning,” he said on Wednesday, pulling into the small parking lot behind the diner. Through the window, you could see the shape of Frankie sitting in his truck.
“That’s fine,” you said.
“Debra needs me to come in early at the office,” he explained, even though you didn’t ask why. You weren’t sure you really cared that the excuse sounded sketchy as hell. A six in-the-morning start? You weren’t stupid.
“Okay,” you said simply. You had an umbrella in your bag and knew you could wait out any major storms in the diner.
“See you tomorrow,” he leaned over, gripped the back of your neck uncomfortably tight, and kissed you roughly. Ethan had never really been a pleasant kisser, or maybe he was a perfectly fine kisser, and kissing wasn’t something you really enjoyed. You weren’t sure.
You counted to five in your head and pulled away, the taste of ash in your mouth. He had been smoking again. Probably with his shithead friends, hopefully with the windows open.
I don’t like you anymore.
The thought came quickly as you looked at Ethan in the dim light and for a moment you were overcome with nausea. The truth of it rocked you, flipped your stomach.
Before you could dissect the thought too thoroughly, you dashed inside the diner, clothes soaking through quickly. Shivering in the doorway, you peeled off your heavy jacket and hung it up on the hook usually reserved for aprons.
You caught Frankie’s eye as you passed through the kitchen. The past couple of nights the rain had kept most people inside, meaning you were free to take over the kitchen (or at least part of it) as you saw fit, spreading out across the stainless steel benchtops trying to figure out if your love of adding an insane amount of lemon was perhaps too much for everyone else. So far, Frankie had been a willing guinea pig for your experiments.
The first couple hours into your shift kept you busy enough; mostly fellow night workers getting dinner and caffeine before their own shifts started. The rain kept most of the regulars away as the storm worsened through the night.
It was almost midnight when the power went out.
“Oh, fuck,” you said setting down the coffee pot. You looked back at Frankie, who was looking at you.
“Uh,” he looked at the spatula in his hand, as if seeing it for the first time.
“Out,” you turned to the lone customer, handing him a to-go cup for his coffee. He left without much argument, allowing you to lock the front doors behind him.
Through the rain-streaked glass, you could see rest of the street had lost power, creating almost absolute darkness that was broken only by the occasional flash of lightning.
“I’ve turned off all the main switches in here,” Frankie called. You nodded. You hadn’t even thought of anything besides locking the doors and drinking the last of the coffee before it went bad.
Frankie appeared by your side, looking out onto the street.
“Oh, see that?” He pointed into the darkness. You squinted and shook your head, moving closer to the glass. He took your shoulders gently, his grip firm. Your heart stuttered as he guided your body to better see.
“About a hundred yards up,” he murmured. A tree, an oak probably, had fallen and knocked over a power line.
You groaned. “That’s gonna take forever to fix.”
“Do we have to stay?” Frankie still hadn’t moved his hands and every fiber of your being was aware of it.
You shook your head. “You don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”
“But you do?”
“Not technically,” you said, “but I’ll stick around anyway, just until we can find out when the power will be back on.” Truthfully, you weren’t keen on walking home in that weather.
“Well, I’ll stick around with you. Want a sandwich?”
Less than ten minutes later, the both of you were sequestered in a booth with coffee, sandwiches, and a view of the fallen tree when the lightning flashed.
“So, that was Ethan, huh?” Frankie broke the silence. You nodded without saying anything. Somehow, the sound of Ethan’s name coming out of Frankie’s mouth made you feel a little sick. It felt wrong.
The wind howled outside, the sound cut only by the rumbling of thunder. “Can I tell you something? And it can’t leave these four walls? Not even Manny can know because he will be so fucking smug about it.”
“Yeah, anything.” Frankie sat forward, all his attention on you.
You bit down on the inside of your cheek, scared to say the words aloud. It was one thing to think them, to feel them occasionally in times of discontent, but it was another thing entirely to speak them into existence. Speaking them made them real, made it so you could never take them back.
“I - I don’t want to be with him anymore. I don’t like him as a person, I don’t think I’ve been happy in a while. I need to get out of that fucking place it’s suffocating me.” You paused, collecting your thoughts. Frankie waited silently, dark eyes on you. “But I’m really scared. Like more scared than I’ve ever been. It probably sounds stupid, with everything you’ve seen and done, like relationship drama, is probably so fucking inane to you.”
“It’s not,” he said quietly. You tilted your head, tears welling up suddenly. “Do you want advice or just an ear?”
“I don’t know,” you groaned and pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, “I’m just so fucking confused.”
“What about?”
“Everything. I need a fucking therapist. Maybe I should ask for a sign to bite the bullet and break up with him.” Outside, a loud crash made the both of you jump as lightning struck another tree. ”Surely fucking not! That’s it! I’m gonna do it! I’m gonna- well, now that’s sorted, what’s new with you?”
“Just like that?” Frankie raised a brow. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ll sort it all out. Don’t worry about me,” you smiled, feeling light. Your chest, your shoulders, and your own soul felt like it had been put through the washing machine and had come out brand new. Was Frankie some kind of emotional wizard, able to extract and make sense of your clouded emotions with barely even a word? Or was that just the effect of finally being able to get all your thoughts together and hear them aloud?
You decided to give the praise to Frankie - after all, if he wasn’t here, you wouldn’t have even said the words. You wouldn’t have come to this decision. You grinned at Frankie, winning one of those heart-stuttering smiles back.
~
June had a way of making Frankie feel not so lonely. They could have been the only two people in the world, and he wouldn’t have noticed. It would have been enough for him.
She had set up your phone against a pair of salt and pepper shakers, turning on a show she had been binging. June had been explaining the plot and characters, but he was barely even taking it in. Her earlier words rattled around in his brain, the declaration that she was done with Ethan. Frankie had spotted him earlier, in the parking lot dropping you off. It had made him feel . . . angry to see. So angry he had barely spoken a word to June all night until the power went out. Stewing in his feelings, hardly able to look at her for fear of snapping at her. He wasn’t mad at her. He didn’t even know what exactly he was mad at, but the feeling had lasted too long for comfort.
June’s laughter rang out, her eyes on the small phone screen. Frankie looked at her, repeating her words in his mind. She was done with Ethan, that much he was certain about. It was the only thing he was certain about. Everything else was murky, and confusing in his broken, rotting brain.
Pushing his feelings to the side, he decided to deal with them later. “How are you getting home?”
June glanced out the window. The sky outside was still dark and stormy, even though the sun should have been rising. “I’ll walk when the rain lets up.”
“It’s supposed to be like this all day,” Frankie said.
June groaned. “Really? You’re sure? Ugh, I’ll get an Uber or something.”
“You’re not getting an Uber.”
“No, it’s so far out of your way.”
“What if it wasn’t?”
“But it is, so your point is moot.” June was smirking triumphantly as if that put the matter to bed. Frankie rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“What if you come back to my place? Just for the day, to get your head together?”
June’s face softened. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Frankie’s voice was firm. “Plus, Benny is probably there and I know he’d love to meet you.”
“Only if it’s not a nuisance for you.”
“You would never be,” Frankie said. He meant it, every word. She never would be, not to him.
tagging: @maievdenoir@luvmeijii@phandoz@you-got-me-starry-eyed@sunnshineeexoxo @meandorla
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🌺 Promise Flower | PJM 🌺
Synopsis: Jimin is a popular dance student and the best one at his university. Mina is a photography student and has known Jimin since high school. An idea for a photo project finds Mina getting closer to him than she ever has before. She learns how big his heart is, but also learns how closely he guards it. Every time she thinks he'll let her in, he pulls away again. Is it even worth the trouble?
Pairing: college student!Jimin x fem!oc
Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, alcoholism
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist
|| Ch. 8: Embarrassed ||
I wake up the next morning with a terrible headache. It’s been a while since I’ve had so much to drink in one night. The sunlight creeping into the room is burning through my dry eyes. Was I really that drunk?
“Morning, Sunshine.”
I turn over in the bed and see Jimin stepping out of his bathroom. For some reason he’s not wearing a shirt. Why? Where did his shirt go?? I look at him dumbfounded trying to replay the previous night in my head hoping I didn’t say or do anything that would cause regrets.
“Hey,” I mumble holding my head.
“Hang on,” he says smiling and walking out of the room.
Typically I would stop him and tell him to get off of his feet, but right now I can barely see straight. What a fucking hangover.
“Here,” he says returning with some pills and a bottle of water. “For your headache.”
“Thanks,” I say tossing the pills in my mouth and drowning them with water. “How are you awake and functioning right now?”
“I’m not a lightweight like some people,” he jokes sitting next to me on the bed. “I can make you some hangover soup.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say laying my head back on the pillow. “I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“No?” He says raising an eyebrow. “Do you remember throwing up in the middle of the night?”
“I what? Did I really?”
“Yup,” he giggles. “You fell asleep then woke up 10 minutes later stumbling to the bathroom. Don’t worry though, I made sure you got there.”
“Shit,” I whisper. “Sorry. I guess I had a bit more than I’m used to. I didn’t…do anything else embarrassing, did I?”
“No, at least nothing that I thought was embarrassing.” Something about the smile on his face is telling me otherwise.
“What else happened?”
“What do you remember?”
“I remember being on the couch…we were watching something, or trying to, I remember that much.”
“Anything else?”
“Umm…” my head is killing me and trying to remember everything last night is only making it hurt more. What else even happened?
“Do you remember coming to bed?”
“No. Wait, I think? How did I get to bed?”
Jimin continues smiling not saying a word. I think harder about last night. He was pulling me by the arm into the bedroom after he said we should go to bed. After we kissed. We kissed. Holy shit we were making out.
“Remember now?” He asks reading the expression on my face.
Suddenly I’m embarrassed hiding my face behind the bedsheets. He only smiles and pulls the sheets away revealing my mortified face.
“Are you shy now that you’ve sobered up?” He asks tucking a bit of my hair behind my ear.
“No, I mean kind of. Shit, no. What I’m trying to say is…” what am I trying to say? We kissed. We made out. And I’m not upset about it, but I was so drunk. What the hell am I supposed to say?
“I’ll make the soup for you,” he chuckles. “I’ll make sure you feel better, don’t worry.” He stands up and walks out of the room leaving me laying there lost in my mind.
He’ll make sure I feel better? Does he remember what we did last night? Does he…want to do it again? Maybe a go at it sober to make sure it wasn’t just a drunken mistake? Also I’d like to remember it better. No, what am I saying?
I can hear pots clattering and utensils clanging around in the kitchen. I pull myself out of my thoughts and find the strength to get up and go see what Jimin is doing.
“You should lay back down,” he says dumping a handful of veggies into a pot of broth. “I’ll bring the food to you.”
“I told you you don’t have to. You should stay off your leg.” I can tell he’s putting most of his weight on his good leg and I know he probably shouldn’t.
“I’m fine,” he smiles. “Once everything is in the pot I’ll sit down until it’s ready.” He continues adding items to the pot and tossing some seasonings on top.
I open my mouth to protest more but his smile takes the sound before it comes out. Why am I so weak just looking at him? He’s standing there with the most gorgeous smile on his face as he prepares soup with no shirt on.
“But, your leg…” I mumble, suddenly forgetting how to function. What the hell is wrong with me?
“I’m ok, really. I’m almost done anyway.”
I watch as he gives the pot one more stir and puts the lid on as it simmers. He opens the refrigerator and grabs two sports drinks.
“You need to hydrate after all that drinking and…vomiting,” he says handing me a bottle.
“Thanks. I’m sorry about whatever happened last night.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. I had a lot of fun.”
“Really? I didn’t do anything to kill the mood?”
“No,” he laughs. “What do you think we did?”
“Well…I know…we kissed…”
“Do you think you did something to kill the mood while we were kissing?”
“No, I mean I don’t know. It’s kind of a blur. I’m just apologizing in case I did do something.”
“You didn’t,” he reassures.
“That’s good. But umm…I have a question though…where is your shirt?”
“Soaking.”
“Soaking? Why?”
“I helped you make it to the bathroom last night, but a lot of what you threw up made it on my shirt and not the toilet.” He smiles as if he’s amused by it, but I’m mortified at the thought of him having to deal with drunk me throwing up all over him all while he’s barely two weeks out of surgery.
“Oh my god, Jiminie I’m so sorry! I’m not usually this terrible when I drink. I’ll wash your shirt for you, where is it?”
“Mina,” he says chuckling and shaking his head. “Chill, I took care of it. And when did you start calling me ‘Jiminie’?”
“I didn’t.”
“You did. Just now. Last night too.”
“You must have heard me wrong.” He didn’t hear me wrong, but I’m so embarrassed for so many reasons already, I don’t want to add calling him a cute nickname to the list.
“If you say so,” he chuckles. “Go sit down, I’ll bring your food.”
“You should be the one sitting. I can get my food.”
“Mina, you’ve been taking care of me for weeks now. Let me take care of you this once. If my leg starts bothering me I’ll sit down, I promise.”
I can’t argue with him. Not when he’s like this…all cute and domestic. I can only nod and make my way to the couch. I watch him from the living room as he turns the stove off and prepares two bowls.
It’s clear that he’s happy to be able to move around on his own. He still has a bit of a limp, but he’s been following his physical therapy religiously and it shows even after just a short time.
Even so, I still want to get up and at least meet him halfway so he’s not limping around with two bowls of hot soup in tow, but the second I start to get up he tilts his head at me with the sassiest “stay put” look that I’ve ever seen from anyone that wasn’t a parent. That scared me back down.
“Eat it up,” he says handing me the bowl. “My grandma used to make this whenever I was sick.” He sits next to me and stirs his soup around with his spoon. “When I got older I learned that it was hangover soup. I also learned how good it is at curing hangovers.” He chuckles a bit looking into his bowl. This soup seems to be taking him back to some cherished memories.
I take a bite and nod in satisfaction. It’s delicious, filled with a bit of meat and veggies. There’s nothing fancy about it, he didn’t use exotic ingredients or anything, but it tastes like home comfort. It tastes like a warm hug laced with tender loving care. I have to take another bite just to make sure I’m not exaggerating.
“This is really good!” I say taking a third bite. “What did you put in this?”
“It’s my grandma’s secret recipe.” He takes a few bites and hums with a smile.
“Your grandma is amazing.”
“I know,” he chuckles.
We both finish off our bowls and he takes them into the kitchen. He doesn’t clean them, but he claims Hoseok will be home later today and he’ll most likely clean up for him. He says that he does clean, but not right away, which is the opposite of Hoseok.
Once again we find ourselves turning the tv on to serve as nothing more than background noise while we talk to each other the entire time. We discovered a new movie we both would love to watch, but we decided we’d do it at another time. We also found a drama that we want to start soon. I love that we have a similar taste in shows and movies. We continue talking over the tv and I can feel my headache gradually going away until it becomes a distant memory.
The entire time Jimin has been very attentive. He asks me every so often if my head is feeling better. He asks if I need more medicine or anything else to eat or drink. He massaged my scalp and let me rest my head in his lap as he ran his fingers through my hair. His touch is so gentle and soothing I find myself falling asleep.
I napped for about an hour, and when I woke up I was still in the same spot resting in his lap. I thought he would have tossed me to the side at some point. I look up at him and he’s still awake quietly scrolling his phone. He notices me stirring and smiles as if my big head hasn’t cut off the circulation to his leg for the past hour.
“How was your nap?” He asks.
“It was good. My head feels better.” I raise my head off his lap and rub my eyes to clear my vision.
“That’s good. I wanted to move you to the bed, but I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“That’s ok. Sorry I fell asleep on you,” I chuckle.
“You don’t have to apologize. You look cute when you’re sleeping.” He smiles and I can feel every drop of blood in my body rush to my face.
“You’re just saying that,” I say bashfully.
“No I mean it. You always look cute when you’re sleeping.”
“Probably not cuter than you.” I can’t believe I just said that. But shit, if he keeps smiling as adorably as he is right now I’ll say any and every stupid ass line I can think of.
“Yeah…you’re probably right,” he says with a cheesy smirk.
“Wow, such modesty,” I sarcastically huff. “That’ll be the last time I try to compliment you.” I grab a pillow and throw it at him making him erupt in giggles.
“How dare you throw a pillow at this face?” He laughs tossing the pillow back at me.
“You celebrities are all the same, so full of yourselves,” I joke.
“But you like it,” he says with a teasing smile.
Sometimes I can never tell if he’s just playing around or if he’s reading right through me. No shit I like it. I like everything about him. I like kissing him. I want to kiss him again. Right now. Maybe I should just do it and see what happens. Instead my phone decides to buzz constantly from a string of text messages.
[Tae]: MINA!
[Tae]: You didn’t go home last night
[Tae]: Why??
[Tae]: How am I supposed to come by and tell you about what happened last night if you’re not at home?!
[Me]: I’m at Jimin’s
[Me]: What happened last night?
[Tae]: I need to see you! I need to SHOW YOU!
[Tae]: When will you be home??
I don’t know what he’s on about, but his string of messages continues faster than I can respond. Jimin looks on with confusion on his face.
“Your phone is blowing up,” he says with a little concern. “Is everything ok?”
“Yeah,” I smile. “It’s Tae. He says he has something to tell me and show me. I guess he went by my place and realized I wasn’t there.”
“Oh.” Jimin pauses, still watching me texting back and forth with Tae. “Does he always go by your place whenever?”
“Sometimes I feel like he’s at my place more than his,” I chuckle.
“Are you going to leave now?” I don’t know why he’s asking as if I’d never come back again. His eyes are big and innocent like a puppy that wants to play just a little longer.
“Well no, I’ll catch up with him later.”
“Oh ok, if you need to go you can. Don’t let me keep you.”
“You’re not keeping me, I’ll just meet him for dinner later.” My smile is met with his reserved nod.
Something is odd, but I can’t tell if I’m just reading too deep or if something is bothering him. I mean, he’s like this a lot whenever I’m about to go somewhere. He’ll look at me with the same eyes as Blossom, which he keeps on the bed, and ask me if I’m leaving with his bottom lip poked out in a pout. I’m weak to the way he looks at me and that’s part of the reason why I’ve spent so many nights here. But he’s probably just lonely since Hoseok has been gone. Hoseok should be back soon so maybe he won’t feel so alone. Unless there’s another reason why he’s like this?
Maybe we should talk. About the kiss. I think we need to figure out what it meant, if it was just because we were drunk or if there’s more to it. If there’s more to it then maybe we should discuss it further. I don’t know. I just feel like the elephant in the room needs to be addressed. I’m not sure how to bring it up though.
Tae and I agreed to meet at my place for dinner at 8. It’s only 5 now so I figure there’s no problem with me staying a little longer to at least say hi to Hoseok when he returns and congratulate him on his win.
Jimin says he’s happy that I’ll stay a bit longer, but he seems a bit more reserved now. It’s like a switch flipped and he went from being flirty and playful to shy and quiet. My attempts to talk to him are met with short answers and forced smiles. I’m so confused because I thought we were having a good time. Why did he suddenly start acting like I was some sort of stranger?
Thankfully not much time passes before Hoseok comes barreling through the door to save us from the sudden awkwardness. He inspects Jimin from head to toe and interrogated him briefly to make sure he’s been taking care of himself properly. Once he’s satisfied he goes on to tell us all about his trip.
Jimin is back to his perky self when Hoseok is around and I begin to think that maybe I was thinking too deep and he just really missed his friend. It’s clear that they’re very close to one another, almost like blood brothers.
I figure I should leave them to catch up. I start feeling like the third wheel and I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever they may want to share with each other in private.
“Thanks for taking care of him,” Hoseok says hugging me after I announced that I’d be going home.
“Have fun with Tae,” Jimin says. While his words seem like they would be playful, his delivery is very monotone. It’s catches me off guard a bit how emotionless he seems to be right now.
It was weird and I cant stop thinking about it as I go home and wash off in the shower. We were enjoying ourselves, what made him suddenly build a wall between us? Did I say something wrong? Maybe he suddenly thought about me vomiting on him last night and got repulsed. I really wish I hadn’t gotten so drunk.
Does he think the kiss was a mistake?
#bts#bts au#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts fluff#park jimin#Jimin#Jimin au#jimin fluff#jimin fanfic#jimin fic#jimin x original character#jimin x oc#cross posted on ao3#cross posted on wattpad#tw depression#tw anxiety#tw panic attack#tw alcoholism#friends to lovers#college au#university au#fluff
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