#you caught him eating your lunch in the fridge once.

[soapcloth]

Corporate office worker!Ghost. The big guy huddled over the computer in the cubicle next to you muttering to himself, fingers too big to reasonably use the allotted keyboard, always in and out of HR because every time he opens his mouth at the water cooler he’s spouting a new morbid joke, but his work speed is unmatched and he’s incredibly competent so they can’t get rid of him— you’re almost sure he’s losing his mind and every lunch he’s staring at you across the break room through hollow, tired eyes like you’re the thing he really wants to eat.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ chronicle #4 : welcome back ♡

wc : 5338

somehow, you've gotten used to living without your dragon man.

it shouldn't have been that hard to began with, you reason. since you'd only been living with him for a couple of weeks. you'd spent your whole life without this rude, bratty, infuriatingly handsome dragon guy. it really shouldn't have been hard.

you wake up to get ready for work feeling more tired than usual. this had been the case for the last two weeks now. you're lost at work, you've been really close to coming late more than once. you're coworker sachi has also asked if you were sick at least 5 times in one week, so you assume you don't exactly look your best right now.

you grab some leftovers from the fridge, hastily throwing them in the microwave to check up on your coffee. when you're done eating with the only background noise being the tv playing some game show reruns, you put your plate in the sink and remember a little too late that no one's there to clean them up for you anymore. you feel stupid, staring at the dishes like they'll suddenly wash themselves.

you'll wash them when you get back.

work goes by in a blur. you hardly remember what you did, who you'd talked to or what you had for lunch. the trip back home feels unfamiliar, like someone else was controlling your body for you. you don't mind as long as you can go home and sleep.

when you walk through your door, you check your couch reflexively, even though you've reminded yourself multiple times no one would be waiting there for you. the tv's turned off like it was when you'd left, there's nothing cooking on the stove, and there's no one on your couch.

despite reminding yourself.

you really need some sleep.

you order take out and eat while watching your favorite show for the 5000th time. it feels boring instead of comforting like it usually is, so you end up skipping a bunch of episodes straight to your favorite.

sometimes, you feel like it was all one big dream. falling in love with a dragon only for him to leave you seemed like something you could really only see in your own fantasy. but you know it isn't, because if it were you'd be able to forget about it. about him. but you can't.

it isn't painful, it doesn't feel like your heart is about to burst. it just feels so lonely. you feel like a part of you is missing, like a piece of your heart was filled to the brim with warmth only for that part to be taken away from you and leaving you cold and hollow. you don't like feeling like this. you shouldn't feel like this over someone you'd technically just met.

but it wasn't like that with him, it didn't feel like you'd just met. despite only living with him for a few weeks, you felt like you'd known him all your life. it was like you were catching up with an old friend the more you spoke to him. everything in you felt good with him. everything felt so right with him.

before you know it there are tears clouding your vision, you will yourself not to let them overflow. you hadn't cried since the day he left, you'd been distracting yourself with work not to. your favorite part of the episode comes up yet all you can do is focus on not bursting into tears. you can't go to bed feeling like shit since you've got work tomorrow. you decide to head to bed early tonight.

you'd like to think you can fool yourself into believing you've gotten used to living without katsuki. but unfortunately, you have to admit you aren't that good at lying to yourself when the first teardrop hits your pillow.

katsuki feels incredibly wrong.

it's way past the time he's usually asleep, but despite tossing and turning he can't keep his eyes shut because every time he does he sees you.

you, with your stupid bright smile. you with your stupid puffed out cheeks and pout when you'd caught him nabbing your food too late. you with your bright eyes when you come back from work to see he's made your favorite.

and you, with your glossy wet eyes when he told you he was leaving.

he really needs some fuckin' sleep.

for the last two weeks, he's been telling himself that this was better for you—for you both. he knows he could never truly be good for you. no matter how well he'd learn to cook your favorite meal. no matter how many movies and tv shows you watch together. no matter how good it feels to be with you, you'll always be a human and he, a dragon.

you're different beings made for different lives. he wasn't raised for battle, but it is a primary part of the dragon code, especially in his faction. survival of the fittest and whatnot. you were made for office jobs and midnight take out and romance movies, not for anything he was.

his friends were more than happy to see he'd finally come back home. they had basically choke-slammed him to the ground to hug him, and he can't deny he felt really a little bit happy to see them again.

he'd expected his mom to nag his ear off like she usually does but he was more than shocked to feel her wrap her arms around him tightly. she had told him she was happy to see he hadn't caused any trouble for himself and he could hear the quiver in her voice and feel the slight shakiness in her tightly strung limbs. he hadn't said anything and simply quietly held her back. his father had joined the group hug soon after and katsuki closed his eyes, indulging in the warmth of his parents' love.

this is good. this feels nice. this is where he's supposed to be.

it felt nice at the time, he recalls. but it didn't feel right.

for the last two weeks, he's been trying to tell himself that despite how much he aches, how much he yearns for you, you aren't made for him.

unfortunately, besides admitedly being a horrible liar, katsuki will forever be a selfish dragon. he only focuses on what he wants, and he wants you more than anything. he needs you more than anything.

" fuck this.." he mutters, throwing and arm over his eyes. he starts absentmindedly rubbing at his hair, like you used to. but it doesn't feel as comforting, so he huffs again.

he'd been told he unfortunately couldn't do anything about the tournament, but on a better note the guy he faced off again would be disqualified from participating since he did end up getting something from a witch, like katsuki thought. kirishima had wrapped an arm around his shoulder and told him it was a good thing. but to be honest, katsuki had almost fully forgotten about that shitty tournament. his father told him there would always be a next one. the next one in ten years. the thought of not seeing you in that time crosses his mind at makes him feel like he swallowed something sour. there's a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought but he can do nothing but try to ignore it.

just as he's about to turn to the other side of his bed a knock his door startles him. his mom walks in shortly after, opening the door halfway before walking in when she sees him awake.

" i didn't say you could come in." he grumbles half heartedly, sleep riddled voice slightly groggy. mitsuki simply sits on his bed near him, patting at his leg over the covers.

"m'not allowed to check up on my runaway son ? don't want you to leave again." she jests. katsuki knows she's joking, but he still feels a pang of guilt in his chest. he grumbles something unintelligible in response.

no words are exchanged for a moment, then mitsuki pats her son's leg a little harder, he snarls at her but she simply smiles at him.

"what do you say we go get some air ?"

the night air feels good.

soaring through the sky feels comforting. feeling the way the wind rushes through his scales feels almost therapeutic to him. it can be thrilling to soar through the air the same way it can also be calming. it provides him serenity he can't quite put into words.

katsuki finds himself wishing he could fly like this with you like when he brought you back home from work. he remembers how you'd screamed your lungs out, clutched onto him so tightly and when you'd landed back home with wobbly legs and messy..everything, you'd proclaimed it was the first and last time you'd ever go for a dragon ride. he remembers how hard he laughed and he chuffs to himself unconsciously at the memory.

flying around when he was irritated or stressed wasn't uncommon for him but he only remembers a handful of times he'd went flying with his mother. other than the times he was younger and still learning how to get the hang of it. he has to admit that that feels good, too.

they decide to rest on a nearby mountain they saw in the horizon. as soon as they land katsuki changes back into his human form, stretching as he let's out a yawn. the only remaining traces of his dragon form being his red horns and scaley tail accompanied by large red wings. he hears his mom flap her wings behind him as she also let's out a little yawn of her own. she sits down onto the gravely bottom and katsuki raises a brow before taking a spot next to her.

it's quiet as they both silently stare at the moon. it's a little chilly out but katsuki doesn't mind much.

"so," mitsuki sighs, taking a large gulp of the fresh air " you gonna tell me what happened when you went on your little expedition?" she bumps her shoulder with his playfully, katsuki growls but doesn't snap back like he usually would.

he simply shrugs "it wasn't an expedition." he gulps, it feels like a knot grows in his throat. "it wasn't anything." he doesn't notice the way his hands are tightened into fists, but his mother does.

"that so ?" she utters. she speaks in a nurturing way. that soft tone that only a mother could use for her child. it upset him even more as the knot in his throat tightens.

"i.." katsuki starts "i was around a lot of humans.." he admits. his mother hums in response, urging him to continue. "saw a lot of things, tried a lot of human stuff."

"human stuff ?"

"human foods and desserts and stuff. and movies. they're people moving around acting inside a big box that they call a tv." he tries his best to explain it in the simplest way considering it took him a while to grasp the concept of electronics himself. he can tell his mother doesn't really understand, but he's thankful she simply nods and let's him continue.

"it wasn't too bad." he concedes. " i didn't wanna kill too many of them." he jokes, his mother chuckles in response.

"anything else happen ?" she asks with a smile. katsuki can already tell shes's onto him. screw this mother's intuition shit.

he opens and closes his mouth a few times, nothing he wants to say seems to come out right.

"ma.." he starts, she hums " when you--how did it feel for you when you fell in love with pops ?"

her eyes widen at his question. she sits and thinks about it for a minute, then a smile grows on her face. " it's not something i can really explain. i just knew it when i saw him, i knew he was meant to be mine."

"even though he's a human..?" he mumbles quietly. his mother doesn't seem fazed, her dazed smile remains.

"yeah." she answers simply.

"it didn't bother you ?"

"nope." she immediatly answers, popping the p.

"it wasn't weird ?"

" it took a little gettin' used to." she hums "we're completely different after all. his family wasn't exactly on board with it. but they didn't say anythin' when i showed 'em my dragon form, i think they were just really amazed." she laughs at her own joke and katsuki fights an eyeroll.

"how'd you do it then ? how'd you..get used to it ?" he asks almost urgently.

her smile hasn't faltered since the beginning of the conversation. it seems to have gotten even wider and even brighter. " i didn't do anything. i loved your father, i still do." she sighs dreamily " when i was around him i didn't worry about anything. i didn't worry about what others thought to begin with, but i didn't worry about that. i wasn't scared of the future or anything."

"there was nothing for me to be worried about when i was around him. it always just felt like things would work out. we made each other happy, and when i was around him it all felt so.." she can't seem to find the right word to use but katsuki finds one for her immediatly.

"right ?" he finishes.

"yeah" she smiles, eyes softening as she looks at her son "yeah, it felt really right."

for the last two weeks, katsuki's been trying to deceive himself. by now he knows it isn't working. at all. he'd been trying to keep his mind quiet. he's been spending time with his friends and it's been nice. but there's clearly something missing. something he knows that his parents or his friends can fill, despite them caring so much for him. and he feels bad because he cares, he really does. but there's something he needs.

you're the one he needs.

"i think.." katsuki jumps a little when his mom speaks up again "i think there's somewhere you need to be, isn't there ?" she asks, though that knowing look she gives him clearly says she already knows the answer.

katsuki bites his lip, looking down towards the ground below. he can't see the bottom.

"i'm scared, ma.." he admits, meekly. mitsuki's heart squeezes at her little boy's heart showing in his eyes, scared of the unknown despite trying his best to convince himself he isn't.

his mother places her hand ontop of his and squeezes " i know, i know you are.." she comforts.

"w-what if it's too late and i messed shit up ?" she shakes her head, shushing him.

"you didn't, i know you didn't." she speaks carefully "if that person is the right one for you, then there's absolutely no way you have." she pulls him into a hug and he hugs her back tightly. no more words are exchanged as katsuki and his mother sit there. she pulls away and presses her forehead to his.

"you get goin' now, okay ?" she feels him nod after a moment and her smiles grows wider. she ruffles her son's hair and he grumbles, pushing at her arm and he fights off a smile.

he's sure, he knows what he needs to do now.

he gets up with vigor and stretches out his limbs and his wings as they flex and expand on his back. before he takes off though, he hears his mom call for him. he turns to look at her proud smiling face.

"you'd better come and visit !" she grinned, sharp fangs on display. katsuki smiles back at that, sharp grin rivaling hers.

" obviously !" he affirms, before taking off.

you wake up like you'd had the best sleep in your life. probably because you cried yourself to sleep.

you're awake an hour earlier than you usually are and you can't seem to get back to sleep. so bitterly, you decide to just get up and start your day an hour early.

you're definitely not getting ready for work at this hour, so your hello- kitty jammies are staying on. you remember you have a half eaten tub of vanilla-caramel-brownie ice cream in the freezer and it makes you a little happier. you walk over to your fridge with a little skip in your step.

when you sit down on your couch and turn your tv on you can already see the sun rising from your balcony. and it makes you dread having to go to work in an hour and a few minutes, you do your best to ignore it and watch a rerun of some old drama tv show you found.

you take your first bite and hum to yourself happily. the ice cream melts on your tongue and the flavours burst onto your tastes buds. if you could you'd eat ice cream every single day.

but katsuki would scold you for it.

it feels a little harder to swallow down your next bite.

the female and male lead on the show are arguing about something. the man says he only has eyes for the lady. he says that it's always been her, that if he were reborn in another life, in another country, he would still always find his way back to her.

you quietly keep watching, taking smaller and smaller scoops of ice cream. the lady is doubtful, she asks the male how she knows he won't break her heart. he responds that she only needs to trust him, that she needs trust herself.

"what is your heart telling you right now ?" he asks.

"it's telling me.." there's a dramatic pause " that i love you..!" she declares.

the two share a hug and an old ending song plays, you can hear an audience clapping like you sometimes do in old sitcoms. you really wish you could go back to sleep when you check your phone and see that only twenty minutes have passed. you wonder if you can call in sick as you play around with your ice cream, but you draw the line at that. that'd be too childish and you're too grown to be faking sick just because you got your heart broken.

you switch through a couple of channels before you land on an animal documentary. it's about red panda's and red panda's are adorable, so you shuffle on your couch to get comfortable and scoop up another big bite of ice cream.

the moment you bring your spoon to your lips though, you suddenly feel a big gust of wind. accompanied by a loud crash. and a giant hole through your fucking wall.

your spoon stays frozen against your lips, it's cold but you can barely feel it. slowly, you turn to look at something coming out of the cloud of smoke caused by the debris.

or no, it's a someone. you can see them stand up straighter as huge wings stretch on their back along with huge pointy horns and—actually maybe it is a something after all.

except you squint and you realise that it isn't a something.

it's katsuki.

it's katsuki and he's looking at you, bright red eyes focused solely on yours. he's here, he's here with you.

and he's once again blasted a hole through your wall.

you almost want to laugh, but you're afraid if you do you'll start crying. so you simply stare at him. he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth

“hi..” he exhales.

he’s heaving, taking in the force at which your wall was blasted into pieces one could assume it was probably because he was flying really fast, and he was. but this wasn’t really going all out for him. frankly, katsuki bakugou is heaving because he’s so incredibly nervous.

“h-hi..” you utter back, wide eyed. katsuki zones in on something on your face and furrows his brows.

“you’re eating that cold shit that early in the morning ? you’ll get sick.” he chides. this time you do laugh, because he’s so insanely ridiculous, how could you not.

“yeah well, no one was here to stop me so..” he knows the other meaning to your joke very well and his heart hurts at the sadness in your eyes when you fully realize he’s actually here.

“why did you—i thought you had to go home ?” you stutter. he takes a hesitant step towards your couch, towards you. his hand twitches, wanting to reach out to you, to touch you, but he holds back for now.

“yeah i did.” he nods “so here i am.”

your heart feels like it’s beating while being held down under a huge weight. you want to do so many things. you want to cry, ask him so many questions and kiss his mouth off but you can only bring yourself to ask “why ?”

katsuki frowns at the way your bottom lip wobbles and he immediately decides he can’t have that. he walks up to you and grabs your hand to pull you towards him, you stand up with a squeal as he pulls you into him. you’re ice cream long forgotten as neither of you notice the tub hitting the floor.

right now you’re only focused on him and he on you.

“i-i tried to tell myself that i didn’t need you at first, that it was better if i didn’t. we both know we’re—more than completely different,” he chuckles humorlessly. “tried telling myself that i didn’t need you because i didn’t need you my entire life, so why should meeting you, a human, change anything ?”

"but then—i don’t know, i realized that i’d spent so much time with you and your normal human life. with your weird habits and routines and your cheesy animal love stories. and then suddenly i just—" he stops himself mid rambling, he’s still heaving and he can’t seem to calm down. until you reach up and place your hand in his hair.

in seconds it’s feels like he can breathe again. your hands in his hair feel like taking a flight in the dead of night. your entire being is like the way it feels when the wind rushes through his scales.

he needs you, he needs you, he needs you, he needs you and he needs you so bad.

he plops his head against your shoulder and you hear the purring sound from when you’d first pet him in your office building. when you didn’t really know why you did, and that it just felt right to.

“suddenly i realized that i couldn’t be without you. i couldn’t see myself without you and your stupid smug face whenever you’re being a smart ass. without you and your weird taste in movies and your hands in my hair and your smile and—" he cuts himself off again. seemingly realizing he’d said too much. you don’t want to embarrass him too much too soon so you hold back the giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“i thought you liked my taste in movies.” you joke, playing with the hair on his nape. you feel him huff a chuckle against your shoulder.

“never said i didn’t like it. said it’s weird.”

“is there really a difference?” you snort.

“hell yeah there is,” he retorts “ya go from watchin’ that weird demon cat on your phone to watching the conjuring in the same breath.”

“ that just means i'm open to a lot of genres, it’s a good thing !” he snorts then grumbles some kind of agreement under his breath “and don’t you insult hello kitty like that ! she’s done nothing to be classified as a ‘demon cat’.”

“ it’s fuckin’ weird. why doesn’t it have a mouth ? and why are it’s black beady eyes starin’ into my fuckin’ soul ?”

“ quit calling her 'it' ? and she’s adorable !”

“she’s freaky is what she is.” you groan.

"you're insufferable. so incredibly annoying." you grumble in defeat. he lifts his head up to look at you then, his award winning cheese on display with a tiny fang poking out.

"yeah, maybe..but you missed me." he counters. you huff, but you really can't lie "yeah, yeah i did" you say. it comes out sadder than you'd wanted it to, and he seems to notice it. his eyebrows furrow and the remorseful look on his face makes your heart burn. your expression mirrors his as you speak.

"i really did miss you, katsuki. i really did." you whisper sorrowfully. you feel him wipe the tears you didn't even know where about to spill from the corner of your eyes. he grabs your cheeks in both of his large hands and wipes at your eyes, then rubs at your cheeks softly. his eyes burn with unspoken words and feelings and you don't need to hear him say anything to understand. you understand him better than anyone. human or dragon.

and that's all you need.

"i know." he leans in until you're inches away and your eyes flutter closed when he nuzzles his nose against your tenderly. he places his forehead against yours in a way you can only describe as loving. "i know." he whispers again.

"but i won't leave again. i promise." he vows, rubbing his nose against your cheek. the gesture feels very animal like and you giggle a little. he huffs against your cheek in amusement. "you're mine, you've always been. i know that—i'm sure of it now." he corrects "so i'm not goin' anywhere." he's so close. just like that night.

you want to let go, want to give yourself to him and trust him but there's something holding you back. katsuki can tell you're doubtful. he nudges his head against your softly, "talk to me." he urges.

"i just..i'm scared.." you admit "what if things don't work out ? i really, really like you katsuki." your voice trembles and your bottom lip wobbles the slightest bit "i don't want you to go away again.." he shakes his head adamntly, his hair tickles against your forehead. he breathes a sigh and pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes properly.

"i don't know how the future will turn out, or what's gonna happen." he knocks his forehead against yours again "but that doesn't scare me. mostly cus i'm not scared of anything," you roll your eyes but you can't help the chuckle that rips out of you. he smiles, obviously proud of his joke.

"but also because i know you're it for me. no matter what happens, i trust that i'll always come back to you." he seems to realize he's been awfully out of character. a cute blush grows on his face but that doesn't deter him in the slightest, as his eyes stay fixed on you. it makes chills run down your spine.

"you..were made for me. that's all i need." he closes his eyes, embarrasment catching up to him. you smile at how adorable your cranky dragon man could be when he wanted to be.

that's all he needs. you're all he needs. the thought fills your body with so much warmth and love.

you bring your hands up to his cheeks. he opens his eyes. looking down at you with half lidded eyes and so much affection it makes you giddy.

"what is your heart telling you right now ?"

you smile up at him, a watery giggle slips past your lips.

" i love you."

you trust yourself. you trust katsuki. you trust your love for him.

his eyes widen. and suddenly he's leaning down and all he gives you as a warning is a breathy whisper of your name. you don't think twice when you nod your head fervently and then he's closing the distance and kissing you.

in a second it's like you feel whole. it's like he breathes life into you with the kiss he presses onto your lips. and the next one, and the one after that.

he pulls back to catch his breath for no less than three seconds before he's stealing yours away again. but you don't mind in the slightest. you'd give all of yourself up willingly to him. you wish you could stay close with him, holding onto him like this forever.

but then there's a sudden sharp pain in your lip.

"ouch !" you yelp. katsuki immediatly pulls back, eyes racking over your face until he notices red on your lip. you lick at your bottom lip and taste blood. you look up at him, a mix of amusement and suprise on your features. after a second, you let out a chuckle.

"guess you missed me lots, huh ?" you laugh some more when he growls at you. trying his best to seem somewhat intimidating despite the state he's in. he's breathing heavy and he's sweating a little bit, cheeks fully red.

"b-be quiet, human." he leans down and licks the blood off your lip. it flusters you despite him meaning it innocently, dragons are way more direct when it comes to physical affection, it seemed. "i'll roast you alive."

"no you won't, liar." you answer arrogantly. you bring your arms to rest around his neck, your hands play around with the hair on his nape. "you like me too much."

"you're gettin' real cocky, aren't ya ?"

"am i wrong ?" you counter. he narrows his eyes at your challenge but lowers his head in defeat soon after. he shakes his head with a chuckle. "no, guess you're not." he concedes.

"you guess ?" you tease.

"don't push your luck, loser." he nips at your nose, and you giggle. he snarls at you when you tug at his horn, but he can't hide the smile on his face.

"i—uh." he looks away, off to the side towards your tv "love. you. too..or whatever you humans say.." he confesses shyly. too much direct eye contact for one day, it seems. you giggle, then lean in and press a sweet kiss to his lips. it takes him a second before he eases into it. slowly, just as passionately as the first time, but you both know there's no rush to let each other know how you feel. you've got all the time in the world together.

"i'm glad.." you say once you pull away. "so, can i assume that means you're back now?" you joke.

"i told you i'm not goin' nowhere. you're mine." he asserts " i'm back." he states with a fanged grin.

you smile wider at his words. you're smiling so hard your cheeks start to hurt but you really don't mind "welcome back." you answer lovingly.

this feels right. this feels like where you both belong. he's back.

back where he belongs.

you pat his nape "to make yourself back at home, you can make me breakfast !" you chirp. "you owe me at least twenty five homemade dinners too, so you'd better get to work." you laugh out loud when he pokes at your side with one hand, with the one on your face squeezing your cheeks out.

"cheeky brat, already puttin' me to work, hah ?!" he grins "i guess i do owe you dinner though, but definitely not fuckin' twenty five of 'em !" you both laugh at each other some more and you wish all of your days with him here could feel like this. but even if they don't, you're not worried. as long as you're together, you know everything will be okay. you trust that with all your heart.

"katsuki ?" you start after a moment. he hums in response, urging you to continue while he nibbles and presses smooches on your shoulder. you smile, you're so incredibly happy.

"fix up my damn wall, would you ?"

and here it is yall, the final chapter ! thank you all sooooo much for the overwhelming amount of love for this silly lil series. i couldn't be happier that you guys liked this fic just as much as i did writing it ! and i hope this ending makes yall happy (cuz some of yall were losin it last chap LOLOLOL) take this super fluffy ending as an apology for that then !! much luvv <333

taglist ! : @sikuthealien @rosemarygalaxy @guccirosegold @queenpiranhadon @k0z3me @katsuisbaby @lovra974 @katsus-mistress @briokayama @sixxze @lupikekee @nymphsdomain @berryvioo @roboticsuccubus83 @yao-ai @haruesme @omayrac @raatass @touyasprettydoll

[youdigokay]

I see your request for headcanon requests and raise you Darry having extreme parental instincts toward the entire gang. :D

I love parental Darry! Thanks for asking!

We know that Darry gets super mad if any of his brothers miss curfew. He will drag his recliner in front of the door and sit there until they come home.

His brain immediately thinks something happened to them, and won’t allow himself to relax until they come home. He physically can not sleep until they get home safe.

Soda tried to crawl through his bedroom window one time to avoid Darry, but of course Darry heard him and grounded him extra hard.

Darry caught Pony with a beer once, and grounded him for two weeks straight and made him do the dishes every night.

No matter how mad Darry gets, he would never hit his brothers again. He’ll just ground them from going out or seeing their friends, and make them do extra chores.

The gang is getting so annoyed of his constant lecturing on their excessive smoking and drinking beer for breakfast.

Darry’s considering not letting Two-Bit stash his beer in their fridge anymore because he feels like it’s a bad influence on Pony.

Darry hates when the gang smokes in the house. He’s the only one who can get away with putting out Dally’s cigarettes when he lights up in the house.

Darry will always cover Johnny with a blanket when he sees him sleeping on their couch, just in case he gets cold at night.

Darry started packing lunches for the gang, because he wants to make sure they eat at least one decent meal a day.

[motherismotheringggg]

scripted desire pt. 2

(the finale)

read part one here!!!

summary: based on this request linked here, essentially cooper gets to work his celebrity crush and has to navigate doing a sex scene together

type: cooper koch x fem! reader (i know cooper is gay, this is just fiction pooks)

tags/warnings: 18+, penetration (p in v), oral (f! receiving), creampie, angst; back and forth between reader and cooper’s POV, the reader will be in red and anything in the past (in the context of the story) is indented

author’s note: i’m quite literally so sorry it took me OVER A MONTH to get this done but i hope you all like it!!!!

word count: ~10172 (good lord)

tag list: @purple-1995 , @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @sharonusworld , @violetidk , @melaninjhs , @emluvsuxo

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Cooper ran a hand through his already tousled curls, glancing around his apartment for what felt like the hundredth time. The coffee table was wiped down, the cushions on the couch had been fluffed and repositioned, and he’d vacuumed earlier—twice. He tugged the hem of his shirt, debating whether to swap it for something else. Casual but not too casual. Cool but effortless. God, why am I like this?

Your text saying “on my way” had come through almost twenty minutes ago, and ever since, he’d been pacing like a madman, obsessively checking that everything was perfect. The faint aroma of the takeout he’d ordered lingered in the air—Thai food, your favorite. The wine was chilling in the fridge, and he’d even lit a candle on the windowsill, though he worried it might feel too much like he was trying.

Filming had been going on for three months now, and during that time, what had started as a friendly dynamic on set had grown into something more. Every scene you shared seemed to deepen the connection—whether it was the playful banter your characters exchanged or the raw, emotional moments that required complete vulnerability. You pushed each other, fed off each other’s energy, and every time the director called “cut,” you found yourselves laughing or dissecting the scene together, eager to make the next take even better.

Off-set, the bond had only strengthened. Cooper showed up at your trailer every morning with coffee and breakfast, even on days when it meant dragging himself out of bed before sunrise. You repaid the favor by ordering lunch for him on his long shooting days, sneaking into his trailer to lay it all out neatly so he could eat between takes. It was little things, small routines that felt easy and natural.

But the connection was truly solidified after the first time you invited yourself to Cooper’s place after filming one day.

The two of you sat in your trailer, killing time while waiting to see if Ryan was going to call you back for reshoots. You were stretched out on the couch, your head resting on the armrest, legs casually draped across Cooper’s lap as he sat in the corner of the couch scrolling on his phone.

“The weather is so perfect today,” Cooper said, glancing out the window at the blue skies. “I’m excited to actually get home and use the rooftop deck for once. My new furniture came this week, and I haven’t had a chance to sit out there yet.”

You shot up, your feet sliding off his lap as you turned to face him. “Wait, is it the set I showed you from Amazon?”

He grinned, pulling up his phone to show you a picture. “Yep, this one. It’s even better in person.”

You grabbed the phone from his hand, studying the photo with a grin. “Oh my God, this looks so good, Coop! It’s giving, like, coastal rooftop vibes. I’m love it!.”

“Well, technically, you did good,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “You’re the one who recommended it.”

You handed his phone back and smirked. “Exactly. And since I recommended it, I think I should get to break it in with you.”

Cooper’s breath caught for a moment, his mind immediately registering the double entendre. He tried to play it cool, but the faint flush creeping up his neck gave him away. “Uh, yeah, that sounds... fair.” He chuckled, hoping it sounded casual.

You didn’t seem to notice his internal spiral, already moving on with an idea. “Perfect, because there’s this new Thai place that just opened near you. I’ve been dying to try it, and it can be my treat. Plus,” you added with a grin, “I have a new wine I’ve been saving for someone to try with me. Consider it a housewarming gift for the furniture I picked out.”

Cooper’s brain short-circuited. She’s coming over. Oh my God, she’s coming over. Is my place even clean? Did I take out the trash? What if I didn’t flush the toilet before I left this morning? He felt heat creeping up his neck at the mere thought, his mind running wild with every possible thing that could go wrong. Did I put the laundry away? Or is it still sitting on the bed?

Before he could spiral further, your voice broke through his thoughts. “So, what time should I come over?”

---

The rooftop was everything you’d imagined and more. Cooper’s new furniture fit perfectly into the space—a sleek outdoor sectional, a chaise lounge, and a low coffee table, all framed by a wrought iron railing that overlooked the city skyline. The warm glow of the string lights you’d helped him hang crisscrossed above, casting soft golden hues across the space. Potted plants and small lanterns added to the cozy atmosphere, and as the sun set, the soft pinks and oranges of the horizon melted into the deep blues of twilight, transforming the rooftop into something out of a dream.

The outdoor table was sprawled with takeout containers, half-empty wine glasses, and the bottle you’d brought, its label peeling slightly from the condensation. Music played faintly from a speaker in the corner, a mix of mellow indie tracks and 90s R&B that matched the chill vibe of the evening.

You and Cooper had been talking nonstop—sharing stories, cracking jokes, and diving into details about each other’s lives that made you feel closer with every passing minute. He told you about his brother’s embarrassing best man speech at a wedding last year, and you countered with the story of the time you accidentally texted a very private complaint about an ex to your boss instead of your friend. You’d laughed until your sides ached, and at some point, the distance between you had naturally closed.

You weren’t the type to get touchy when you were drunk, but thw wine played it’s part tonight. You started the night in one of the armchairs, but at some point, you’d migrated to the chaise lounge where Cooper was stretched out. Now, you were lying between his legs, your back resting against his chest as his arms draped loosely over the sides of the chair. It was innocent enough—two friends relaxing after a long week—but the warmth of his body against yours and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest made you feel... something.

The city below was quieting down, the hum of traffic fading into the night as you both stared up at the string lights above. The silence between you had gone on for a little while, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, even soothing.

“It’s getting pretty late,” you murmured, your voice soft as you broke the quiet. “I should probably get going. I’ll just Uber home and come back for my car tomorrow.”

You felt Cooper shift behind you, his voice a little firmer now. “You’re not taking an Uber home alone at this hour. No way.”

You tilted your head back slightly to look up at him, catching the serious set of his jaw. “Coop, I’ll be fine. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he countered, crossing his arms in mock seriousness. “You’ve had wine, it’s late, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. Just stay. You can sleep here.”

You tilted your head, giving him a teasing grin. “Are you sure this isn’t just an elaborate ploy to get me to stay longer so you don’t have to clean up by yourself?”

He smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to the offer. But mostly, it’s because I’m a gentleman.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “Alright, alright. If you insist, Mr. Gentleman.”

The two of you gathered the leftovers and headed back down to his apartment. The narrow stairwell was dimly lit, and the old wooden door that led into the hallway stuck as Cooper tried to push it open.

“Stupid thing,” he muttered, jiggling the handle.

You stood close behind him, the space so tight you could feel the warmth radiating from his back. The scent of his cologne—fresh and woodsy—lingered in the air, making your head spin slightly.

“I’ve got it,” you said, stepping closer to help, your hand brushing his.

“It’s fine, I—” Cooper glanced back at you, his eyes meeting yours for just a second too long.

You hadn’t really thought about Cooper like that before—or at least, you’d tried not to. He was sweet, sure, and definitely attractive, but he was also the guy who never crossed a line, no matter how much you jokingly flirted with him on set. He’d always been so respectful, and you wanted to follow his lead. But now, with the wine flowing through you and the way his lips parted slightly as he turned back to the door, you couldn’t help but feel... intrigued.

Finally, the door gave way, and you both spilled into the hallway with a laugh. Cooper handed you a T-shirt to change into once inside, heading off to his bedroom while you ducked into the bathroom. The shirt was huge on you, brushing just above the bottom of your thighs as you adjusted it in the mirror.

Alright, nothing wrong with setting the bait just a little, you thought with a smirk as you ran your hands over the fabric.

When you came back into the living room, Cooper was already on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He glanced up as you walked in, his eyes flickering to your legs for the briefest of moments before he cleared his throat.

“Shirt fits okay?” he asked, his voice casual.

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied, settling onto the couch beside him.

The two of you talked for a little while longer, the conversation slowing as Cooper let out a yawn. You stretched, glancing at the couch. “You wouldn’t happen to have a weighted blanket, would you? I’d love that for the night.”

Cooper chuckled, leaning back. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t kick you out of your bed,” you protested.

He smirked. “After the fight scenes today? You need all the cushion you can get for your back. Trust me.”

You grinned, trying to play it cool but unable to resist joking. “You know, we’ll have to get comfortable sleeping with each anyway, might as well start tonight.”

His laugh came out nervous and uneven, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, you have a point.”

You immediately regretted saying it, heat rushing to your cheeks. Why did I lay it on so thick? you thought as you stood to head upstairs. It’s clear he’s not into that. Or maybe... he’s just not into me.

“I’m joking Coop,” you stood front the couch, feigning nonchalance, “thanks for letting me kick you out of your room for the night.”

He called out “goodnight as you headed up the stairs and you responded back with those thoughts swirling in your mind, you trudged up the stairs, the oversized T-shirt swaying softly against your legs.

---

The second you climbed into the chaise with him, Cooper’s body went stiff, every nerve on high alert. It wasn’t the first time he’d been close to you—on set, the two of you had plenty of moments that required touching, leaning into each other, and sharing intimate glances. But this? This was different. It was quiet, real, and the wine wasn’t helping.

Over the past few months, Cooper had essentially mastered the art of acting normal while being completely overwhelmed by how much he was in love with you. He’d trained himself to steady his breathing, to regulate his heart rate when you got too close. He’d learned to make sure his palms weren’t clammy whenever you grabbed his hand to drag him to another part of set or shared a private joke. He’d perfected the casual laugh, the easy nod, the reassuring smile—all the things that kept you blissfully unaware of the storm raging inside him.

But tonight, with you nestled between his legs, your back pressed to his chest, and his fingertips lightly grazing your arm as if they belonged there, it was almost too much. The way your head rested against him, the way your laughter had softened into something quieter—it felt romantic. And for a moment, he let himself enjoy it. He let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, you felt it too.

And then you came downstairs in that shirt.

When he first heard your footsteps on the stairs, he’d braced himself, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight of you. The oversized T-shirt barely skimmed the tops of your thighs, the curve of your perfect ass peeking out just enough to drive him crazy. Something primal surged through him, catching him off guard.

He wanted you. Right then and there, he wanted you in a way that was overwhelming and consuming. He wanted to cross the space between you, scoop you up into his arms, and carry you back upstairs. He wanted to throw you down on his bed, pin you there, and make you his.

The longer he stared, the worse it got. His eyes trailed from your long, sexy legs to the way the shirt swayed with each step. He imagined those legs over his shoulders, your thighs trembling as he buried his face between them. He imagined bending them back, spreading you wide as you took him fully, your voice gasping his name. He imagined you straddling him, your hands on his chest as you moved, slow and deliberate, driving him out of his mind.

He clenched his fists on his lap, forcing himself to look away before you could catch him staring. His jaw tightened as he tried to rein in the heat spreading through him. He hated this. Hated that he couldn’t stop thinking about you this way. Hated that you were right there—so close, so effortlessly beautiful, and so completely off-limits.

You were his friend. His coworker. And he knew you appreciated him as just that.

Even when you made jokes about sharing a bed for practice, he knew it didn’t mean anything. It was just you being playful, the way you always were. But God, did it kill him every time you said something like that. It was like dangling a dream in front of him that he couldn’t have.

When you’d gone upstairs earlier, he’d felt relief. But now, sitting here with the sound of your soft footsteps shuffling around above him, he hated himself for passing up the invitation you’d all but handed him. You’d practically given him the green light to share the bed—to be closer to you—and he’d chickened out.

Cooper leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling as he listened to the faint sounds of you settling upstairs. The weight of his unspoken feelings pressed down on him like a brick. He hated this. He hated wanting you so much it hurt.

----

The small office was cozy but cluttered, filled with mismatched furniture and a lingering smell of lavender. You and Cooper sat on a worn couch, waiting for the intimacy coordinator to arrive. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning, but the anticipation was palpable. This was the day you’d finally start mapping out your scene—a pivotal moment in the story, and one that had loomed in the back of your minds since you first read the script.

When the coordinator finally walked in, she was everything you might have expected and more. Her look was delightfully granola: baggy, billowy clothes in earthy tones, tattoos covering her arms and neck, and, of course, a pair of well-worn Birkenstocks. She kicked them off almost immediately, wiggling her toes against the hardwood floor. “I like to feel more connected to the space,” she explained with a serene smile as she settled into an armchair.

You exchanged a quick glance with Cooper, suppressing a laugh as she pulled out her notebook.

“Alright,” the coordinator began, flipping to a fresh page. “Before we get into choreography or specifics, I like to start with comfort levels. Let’s talk about how you feel about your own bodies—not just on camera, but in real life.”

Cooper leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’d say I’m pretty confident with my body,” he said, his voice calm but thoughtful. “Growing up, I was lanky and awkward, so it took a while to feel comfortable in my skin. But once I started working out, it helped a lot. It’s not just about how I look—it’s about feeling stronger, more capable.”

You nodded, smiling at him before adding your own response. “For me, it’s been more of a journey. I’m a bigger girl, and that wasn’t always easy to embrace. But being around people who actually valued me—not just for my body, but for who I am—made all the difference. I’ve worked through a lot, and I’m the most confident I’ve ever been now.”

Cooper turned to you, his warm brown eyes softening. “I didn’t know that,” he said, his voice quiet but full of genuine care. Without thinking, you reached over and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

The coordinator smiled knowingly, her gaze flicking between the two of you. “There’s a strong connection between you two,” she said, jotting something in her notebook.

You felt Cooper’s hand squeeze yours briefly before he pulled it away, and though you noticed, you didn’t react. The moment lingered for just a second before the coordinator continued.

For the next hour, you and Cooper talked about your on-screen experiences. He’d done more nudity, you’d done more sex scenes. Your experiences balanced each other out in a way that felt natural, and you both laughed over anecdotes from past projects—like the time Cooper had to lie naked on a freezing cold floor for hours, or when you had to make out with an actor who’d eaten garlic knots right before a scene.

Then came the choreography.

Sex scenes look so intimate and natural on screen,” but in person? They’re anything but. It’s a dance—a mix of choreography, lighting, camera angles, and making sure everything looks right for film. Some things we can improvise for realism, but a lot of it is planned down to the smallest detail.

You practiced straddling Cooper’s lap at least twenty times, adjusting your positioning for the best angles. You rehearsed how he’d remove your shirt over thirty times, making sure the motion was fluid and natural. But it wasn’t until the kiss—the kiss—that the scene took on a life of its own.

It was the climax of the story, a moment where your characters bared their souls to each other. The coordinator told you to let it flow, to stop if you needed to, and to trust her to course correct.

You were in Cooper’s lap again, your shirt off and your lacy bra barely covering your chest. His hands rested lightly on your waist, and his gaze flickered nervously to the coordinator.

“Loosen up,” she said gently. “You’re doing great, Cooper, but you need to relax.”

Cooper hesitated. He was afraid to relax. Afraid to let go of the control he’d clung to since the moment you entered his life. Because if he did, every single feeling he’d buried—the longing, the need, the desire—would come rushing out, and he wasn’t sure he could hide it anymore.

You leaned forward slightly, your hands on his shoulders, grounding him. “We’ve got this,” you murmured, your voice low and steady.

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t like the other kisses your characters had shared. This one was hungry, desperate, your tongues tangling as you pressed closer. Your hips rocked steadily against his lap, and his large hands gripped your torso, sliding up your sides and down your back.

The kiss was everything it needed to be for the scene—and more. For a brief moment, Cooper forgot where he was. Forgot the lights, the cameras, the crew. It was just you.

And that was the problem.

He felt it before he could stop it—the telltale heat, the rush of blood as his body betrayed him. He was getting hard, and there was no stopping it. He knew that in seconds, you’d feel it, and there was no way he could let that happen.

Cooper pulled back abruptly, his breathing uneven as he gently moved you off his lap. “Maybe, uh, maybe we should try this standing,” he said quickly, his voice tight.

The coordinator raised an eyebrow, amused. “Standing? For a car sex scene? That would be... interesting.”

“You’re both doing great,” she added, smiling. “Let’s take a quick break and regroup in a few.”

Cooper was gone before you could say anything, practically storming out of the office. You stayed behind, talking about the scene with the coordinator and not focusing on the sudden change in energy.

----

By Thursday, you’d all but convinced yourself that Cooper was avoiding you.

It started subtly enough—small things that, at first, you chalked up to coincidence. Instead of bringing you breakfast himself, he started handing it off to an intern to deliver. Between takes, he wasn’t lingering on set, sharing jokes or teasing you about forgetting your lines. Instead, he’d retreat to his trailer, barely glancing your way as he passed. And after work? Nothing. No texts, no memes, no TikTok links. Radio silence.

At first, you tried not to take it personally. Cooper was allowed to have bad days—or even bad weeks. You reasoned that maybe he was tired or overwhelmed. But as the days stretched on, the oddness of it all settled into something heavier.

What the hell is his problem? you thought as you stared at his latest text—a curt “No thanks!” after you’d offered to buy lunch for both of you.

By the end of Thursday’s shoot, you were tired, frustrated, and more than a little upset. You’d been close to Cooper for months now, relying on the easy rhythm of your friendship both on and off set. And now, just as you were gearing up to shoot the most intimate scene of the entire project, he was acting like... this? It didn’t make any sense.

Ryan called everyone into a huddle to wrap up the day, his energy as commanding as ever. You found a spot near the back of the group, scanning the crowd until you spotted Cooper. He was standing far from you, arms crossed and gaze fixed on the ground.

“Alright, listen up!” Ryan said. “The studio’s doing some maintenance tomorrow, so we’re all getting the day off. Enjoy your Friday. Recharge. But—” he added, his tone firm—“I need everyone here bright and early Saturday. We’re filming the big one. You know the scene I mean.”

You nodded along with the rest of the group, your stomach tightening at the mention of the scene. You glanced at Cooper, but he didn’t look up.

After the huddle broke, you headed back to your trailer to pack up your things. You were trying to shake off the lingering frustration when you caught sight of Cooper outside, moving quickly and quietly toward the studio lot. He glanced around, clearly trying not to be noticed, before ducking into the passenger seat of a car you didn’t recognize.

It clicked all at once. Maybe he has a girlfriend.*

The thought made your chest tighten, not completely with jealousy but with a strange, sinking feeling. It all made sense now—his awkwardness during the sex scene practice, the way he’d been pulling away from you, the tension in his body every time you got close. If he was seeing someone and your friendship had blossomed too fast, too intensely, it would explain everything.

He’s probably just trying to define boundaries with this other relationship, you thought, your earlier anger morphing into understanding. The sex jokes you’d made, the rooftop hangouts that stretched late into the night—those things probably felt like lines being crossed to him, even if you hadn’t meant them that way.

The weight of it followed you home. As you got ready for bed, you debated whether to text him. You didn’t want to make things worse or seem like you’d uncovered some big secret. But you also didn’t want to leave things unresolved, especially with the big scene looming over you both.

You grabbed your phone just before climbing into bed, deciding to send a message. Keeping it light felt like the best approach.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but I’m happy for you. And I’m sorry for crossing any boundaries. Hopefully, me, you, and lucky gal can all do a rooftop hangout soon!!”

You hit send and stared at the screen for a moment before setting the phone down.

*There,* you thought. *Ball’s in his court now.*

---

Cooper saw your text the instant it came through, the screen lighting up his darkened room like a beacon. The soft ding shattered the quiet, cutting through the heavy silence he’d been drowning in all week. He stared at the words, rereading them until they blurred at the edges. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, wanting to reply immediately, to say something—anything—that would keep this fragile thread of connection intact. But the weight of everything unsaid kept his fingers still.

He’d turned off his read receipts weeks ago, claiming it was for privacy, but tonight, he was grateful for the buffer. You wouldn’t know how long he sat there, staring at your message like it was a lifeline. You wouldn’t know how much it meant that, after the way he’d been acting, you still wanted to reach out.

The guilt clawed at his chest, sharp and unrelenting.

Payton had driven him home from set that day, and the entire ride had been a disaster in his head. He hadn’t stopped replaying the moment in the intimacy coordinator’s office—or more accurately, the moment he’d ruined everything.

He’d wanted to kiss you. God, he’d wanted to kiss you. Not just because the scene called for it, but because every fiber of his being had been screaming to close the gap between you and finally show you how he felt. To let his hands roam your body, to pour every ounce of his frustration and longing into a kiss that would leave no doubt in your mind.

But he hadn’t. He couldn’t.

Instead, he’d pulled away, stumbling over a half-baked excuse about standing choreography and all but sprinting out of the room. It wasn’t the kiss that had scared him—it was the thought of what you’d think if you’d realized how much he’d wanted it. He’d been terrified that you’d felt his erection during the scene, that you’d think he was gross or unprofessional or just another actor who couldn’t separate work from reality.

So he did the only thing he could think of to protect himself and, in his mind, to protect you too—he distanced himself.

That night, sitting in Payton’s passenger seat, Cooper had finally cracked. He spilled everything to his brother—the scene, the kiss, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the guilt that gnawed at him for how he’d acted. He admitted that he had no idea how to fix it, no idea what to say to you now.

Payton listened patiently, letting him get it all out before shaking his head. “Man, icing her out was the top 10 stupidest things you could’ve done,” he said bluntly but not unkindly. “You’re acting like you’re the first guy in history to fall for someone they work with. Just text her. Clear it up. She deserves that.”

Cooper groaned, throwing his head back against the headrest. “Yeah, okay. And what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know we’re friends, but I’m gonna do that guy thing where, after you’ve built trust with me, I’ll tell you I’m in love with you and want you sexually’? That won’t send her running at all.”

Payton laughed, shaking his head. “You could maybe *not* phrase it like a serial killer. Just tell her you’re sorry for being distant and you’ve had stuff on your mind. It’s not that hard, Coop.”

But it was hard.

By the time Cooper got home, he was too wound up to do anything but collapse on the couch. He spent the evening aimlessly flipping through channels, snacking on crackers and sipping wine, trying—and failing—to gather the courage to text you. Every time he opened your thread, the words he wanted to say felt wrong or inadequate.

When he finally dragged himself upstairs to bed, it was nearly midnight. He lay on his back, phone in hand, scrolling to your name again. Your last message glowed softly on the screen, and he stared at it until his eyes burned. He thought about calling you, about telling you everything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing paralyzed him. Once again, he did nothing.

Friday morning came and went, and still, the words eluded him. He told himself he was giving you space, that it was better this way, but deep down, he knew he was fumbling the friendship. He hated himself for it, hated the way he was letting his fear keep him frozen.

By midday, he was lying on the couch again, scrolling aimlessly when his phone vibrated in his hand. Your name popped up on the screen, and his heart stopped.

“If you’re not busy, are we doing our Friday night sesh lol?”

The text was simple, nonchalant, and so perfectly you. Relief washed over him, warm and heavy, but it was quickly followed by a pang of guilt. Even after the way he’d acted, you were still reaching out. You were still trying to keep the connection alive, and here he was, barely holding it together.

For a long moment, Cooper sat there, staring at your message. A part of him wanted to ignore it—not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he was terrified of messing up even more. But then Payton’s voice echoed in his mind: “Just text her. She deserves that.”

Taking a deep breath, he finally typed a response.

“Yeah. Come over whenever you can!”

His thumb hovered over the send button, his chest tightening as the weight of his feelings threatened to crush him. Finally, he hit send, watching the message disappear into the ether.

He set the phone down on the coffee table, leaning back against the couch as he tried to steady his breathing. And now, all he could do was wait.

---

Even before your eyes opened Friday morning, you were already expecting a reply from Cooper. Some part of you just knew he would’ve texted you back by now—confirming that he was seeing someone, apologizing for being weird, and putting all of this to rest.

But when you rolled over and grabbed your phone, the screen told a different story.

There were a few Instagram notifications—likes on a recent post—and a couple of mentions on Twitter from fans speculating about the show. But nothing from Cooper.

Your heart sank, a dull ache settling in your chest. You felt silly for being so hopeful, for thinking he’d reply as quickly as he always used to. If he does have a girlfriend, you reasoned, then technically, I can’t be mad at him. But that logic didn’t stop the sting. It still hurt.

You tossed your phone onto the bed, burying your face in your hands with a groan. “Get a grip,” you muttered to yourself, but the pep talk didn’t do much to lift your mood.

You spent the morning moping around the apartment, picking up clutter here and there before sitting back down, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. The knot in your chest tightened every time you thought about Cooper, about how things had shifted so suddenly between you.

By midday, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. Sitting around wasn’t helping, and you needed to clear your head. You grabbed your bag and keys, determined to shake off the heaviness.

The sun was warm on your skin as you walked through downtown LA, the familiar buzz of the city wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You stopped at a nearby coffee shop, ordering your favorite drink and savoring the slight bitterness of the first sip. You sat outside for a bit, watching people go by, their lives unfolding in a way that made your own worries feel small.

You didn’t even notice the paparazzi at first. It wasn’t until someone called your name, camera in hand, that you realized you’d been spotted. You forced a smile, raising your coffee cup in a mock toast as they snapped a few pictures. It was part of the job, and while it wasn’t your favorite part, you knew how to play the game.

From there, you wandered into a few stores, picking up a couple of things that caught your eye. Retail therapy wasn’t a cure, but it was a distraction—and today, a distraction was exactly what you needed.

Being outside, away from the quiet of your apartment and the constant swirl of thoughts about Cooper, helped you breathe a little easier. By the time you were heading home, the sting of the morning had dulled.

And as you climbed the stairs to your place, a thought struck you: At the end of the day, you and Cooper are friends.

Friends have awkward moments. Friends sometimes need space. And whatever was going on between the two of you, it didn’t have to be the end of your friendship. Neither of you had done anything wrong, so there was no reason for things to stay weird forever.

The realization didn’t erase all the hurt, but it gave you clarity. You could move past this.

Feigning bravery, you grabbed your phone as you kicked off your shoes. It was Friday night, after all, and Friday night meant one thing: your weekly hangout with Cooper. You’d made it a tradition, and you weren’t about to let a few days of awkwardness ruin it.

Opening your messages, you typed out the text and hit send before you could overthink it:

“If you’re not busy, are we doing our Friday night sesh lol?”

You set your phone down, exhaling deeply. Whatever happened next, at least you were trying. At least you were giving him the chance to meet you halfway.

And now, all you could do was wait.

----

It was a little after 8 when you got there, and Cooper had already turned his bedroom into a war zone. Clothes were scattered across the floor, his bed buried beneath rejected options that didn’t pass the “effortlessly casual” test. He didn’t want to look like he’d tried too hard—because trying too hard would suggest something—but he also didn’t want to look like a slob. He did all that just to finally settle on a simple gray muscle tank and sweat pants, but as he stood in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem, he started second-guessing everything again.

What was he even going to do when you got here? Should he act normal and pretend nothing was wrong? Should he apologize for being distant? Try to patch things up and keep being friends?

Or should he just tell you how he feels?

No. Absolutely not. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

But then there was the issue of the text you’d sent last night. The one that suggested you thought he had a girlfriend. How could he clear that up without spilling everything? He didn’t want you thinking he was lying or sneaking around, but explaining it meant opening a door he wasn’t sure he could close.

Before he could spiral any further, the doorbell rang, and his stomach dropped.

You were here.

Walking down the stairs to open the door, Cooper felt like he was heading into a first date instead of hanging out with someone he’d spent almost every day with for the last four months. The feeling annoyed him, made him hate how much power his own emotions seemed to have over him. You weren’t a stranger. You were you. And yet, seeing you standing there on his doorstep still sent a pit straight to his stomach.

When he opened the door, it hit him again. You looked amazing, even in something as simple as jeans and a t-shirt. The faint scent of your perfume reached him as you stepped inside, and he fought the instinct to pull you into a hug. Normally, you’d hug him or give him some casual pat on the stomach, but this time? Nothing.

The lack of touch stung more than he cared to admit.

You started making small talk as you slipped off your coat, your voice light as you talked about your Uber driver and how they’d missed the turn to his street. Cooper nodded along, but his nerves were all over his face, and he could feel it. The tension in the air was suffocating, even though you were trying to fill it with conversation.

“I’m making dinner,” he blurted, his voice louder than he’d meant. He cleared his throat. “Uh, if you want to sit here on the couch, I just have to grab something from upstairs.”

You nodded, smiling faintly as you settled onto the couch. Cooper didn’t wait to see if you’d say anything else—he turned and bolted up the stairs, his heart pounding in his chest.

Once in his bedroom, he started pacing. He rubbed his hands over his face, muttering under his breath as he tried to calm the frantic thoughts running through his head.

Why did I tell her to come over? he thought, dragging a hand through his hair. I don’t even have a good explanation for her.

He glanced at the clothes still scattered across the floor, stepping over a pile of T-shirts as he paced back and forth.

She’s going to ask why I’ve been distant, and I’m going to make it worse. I’ll ruin the show, I’ll ruin this—

He stopped mid-step, shaking his head as if he could physically dispel the anxiety gripping him. He wanted to fix things. He wanted to make everything normal again. But how? What could he possibly say that wouldn’t dig him deeper into the mess he’d made?

Cooper stood in the middle of the room, staring at the wall like it might offer him some magical solution. The silence upstairs was broken only by the faint sound of you shuffling around downstairs, probably settling into the couch.

----

Getting out of the Uber made your stomach churn, and you weren’t even sure why. This was Cooper—your friend, your Friday night hangout buddy. Nothing was different, right? But as you walked toward his door, the trembling in your hand when you reached for the doorbell told a different story.

When Cooper opened the door, you instinctively inhaled, a witty line ready to spill out as you leaned forward to give him a hug, but his body language made you pause. He didn’t lean in or even shift toward you. He just stood there, stiff and awkward, his usual warmth replaced by something that felt… off. You swallowed the hug and stepped inside, brushing off the sting.

His apartment was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the stove fan in the kitchen. The silence pressed down between you, like you both wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. Trying to break the tension, you launched into a lighthearted rant about your Uber driver getting lost, your tone playful and exaggerated.

But Cooper wasn’t biting.

He gave you half-smiles and short answers, avoiding eye contact as if looking at you might crack him open. His usual charm felt buried under a thick layer of nerves, and just when you were about to ask if everything was okay, he blurted out, “I’m making dinner if you wanted to sit here on the couch, I just have to grab something from upstairs.”

It was so abrupt that it almost made you laugh. “Uh, okay,” you said, setting your coat on the armrest as you perched on the couch.

You watched him practically bolt up the stairs, his footsteps echoing overhead. For a few moments, you sat there, trying to piece together the puzzle of his behavior. Was it still about the intimacy coordinator practice? Or maybe… was it something else?

The sound of muffled shuffling pulled your focus, followed by Cooper’s hushed voice. At first, you thought he might be on the phone. But as you tilted your head and angled yourself to hear better, it became clear he was talking to himself.

And not just about anything—about you.

Your heart raced, a mix of curiosity and anxiety bubbling to the surface. You didn’t want to startle him, but it was clear that the two of you couldn’t keep dodging whatever this was. Quietly, you made your way up the steps, the wood creaking slightly under your weight.

His bedroom door was ajar, the soft light spilling into the hallway. You knocked lightly, pushing the door open just enough to peek inside.

“Hey, Coop,” you said softly. “Are you okay?”

He turned sharply, his wide eyes meeting yours like you’d just caught him robbing a bank. “Yeah, I’m great,” he stammered, his voice unconvincing.

You stepped inside, leaning your back against the door and crossing your arms. “Cooper,” you said with a teasing smirk, “for such an incredible actor, you’re a terrible liar.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, the tension in his shoulders melting as he let out a soft, nervous chuckle.

“It’s been unfairly long since we laughed. I can’t stand it,” you said, trying to ease the tension.

Cooper nodded, letting out a long sigh. “You’re right. I—I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“For what, exactly?” you pressed, your tone gentle but firm.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. When you mentioned the idea of him having a girlfriend, he froze, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to find the right words. Finally, he walked over to the bed, sitting near the top so he could rest his back against the headboard.

You stayed by the door, watching as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he exhaled and said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

The relief that washed over you was immediate and overwhelming. Internally, you were beaming. Thank God.

“Can you come sit next to me?” he asked, his voice soft.

You crossed the room and climbed onto the other side of the bed, sitting with your legs tucked under you. Trying to lighten the mood, you teased, “So, you just make all your friends think you’re mad at them to keep things interesting?”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “No, I—” He closed his eyes tightly, like he was bracing himself for impact. “Y/N, I’m just gonna say everything I need to, like word vomit, because if I don’t, I might actually throw up.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Go ahead,” you said gently.

He took a deep breath, his eyes still closed as the words spilled out of him. “Ever since I saw you in Kindred Spirits, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. And every day since then has felt like a dream because not only are you captivating, but you’re so kind, and sweet, and funny. And I knew I was in love, but then you started coming over, and it made it impossible to ignore.”

Your breath caught, your heart pounding in your chest as his words tumbled out.

“I’ve been having dreams,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “And I know it’s probably gross, and I’m so sorry if that’s weird, but that’s why the sex scene marking was so overwhelming for me. Because I didn’t want to be that guy—the movie set creep who can’t keep it together. But it’s not just about control. It’s about you. I want you. And I get it if you don’t feel the same way, but I—”

“Cooper,” you interrupted, your voice soft but steady.

His eyes shot open, panic flashing across his face as he looked at you.

You paused, unsure of how to respond, but the way Cooper's eyes searched your face so desperately for reassurance made your heart ache. He looked so vulnerable, so raw, and you wanted to find the right words to ease the weight on his shoulders.

"So, this has all been because of the scene?" you asked gently, keeping your tone light to relieve some of the pressure. "I mean... I already imagined you liked me-because I liked you."

His eyes widened at your admission, his lips parting in shock, but you pressed on. "But I thought it'd be tacky to date your co-star, you know? And you're nervous about getting hard during the scene?"

The redness that spread across his cheeks was answer enough. He couldn't speak, but he shook his head furiously, as if trying to deny it, even though it was clear you'd hit the mark.

"Honey, that's natural," you said softly, letting a playful smile tug at your lips. "We're going to be so padded up, we won't even have to worry about that."

You reached out and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against the faint stubble along his jaw. He leaned into your touch instinctively, his tension melting under the warmth of your palm.

Relief flickered in his eyes as if the weight of his confession had finally been lifted.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence hung in the air, charged with an energy that neither of you dared to break-until you did.

"…Do you wanna practice the scene?" you asked quietly, but with intention.

Cooper's eyes snapped to yours, wide and full of surprise. "Practice," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... do it for real?" His voice cracked slightly, his neck craning forward as if trying to confirm he hadn't misheard.

You nodded, your gaze steady. "This way, we can get all your nerves out of the way. And," you added with a sly wink, "we both get what we clearly want."

His face flushed deeper, and for a moment, he just blinked at you, his lips forming a silent are you sure?

But you were already standing, sliding your jeans down your legs in one smooth motion.

Cooper sat frozen, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes traveled up your body. You crossed the room to the bed, climbing on and straddling him just as you had during the rehearsal. His hands instinctively rested on your thighs, and you could feel the heat radiating from his palms.

"Okay, so remember," you said, your voice calm but slightly breathy, "pull the shirt over both arms, not one at a time."

"Slow and with eye contact," Cooper murmured, his voice steady but soft.

"Exactly," you said, smiling at how well he remembered.

He nodded, his fingers brushing the hem of your shirt as he carefully lifted it up. The cool air hit your skin as he pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in a lacy pink bra. Cooper froze for a moment, his eyes sweeping over you.

"Okay," you said, your voice a little shakier than before. "Now for the kiss."

Cooper nodded, his hands still resting lightly on your hips. "I think we should start slow," you directed. "And then pick up the pace."

"Okay," he breathed, unable to say anything more.

You leaned in first, your lips brushing his gently.

The kiss started soft, hesitant even, as though you were both testing the waters despite having kissed countless times on set before. But this wasn't a scene. There were no cameras, no lights, no crew. Just the two of you alone in his bedroom.

The kiss deepened naturally, growing more intense with every passing second. Cooper's hands tightened on your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin as though anchoring himself to the moment. Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him closer, and you felt his breath hitch when your chest pressed against his.

His lips were warm and urgent against yours, and the way he kissed you sent a rush of heat straight through you. He tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss as his hands slid up your back, his thumbs grazing the band of your bra.

Your hips rocked against him, the motion slow and instinctive. Cooper let out a deep, throaty groan against your lips, and you couldn’t ignore the hardness pressing against you. The sensation made you bolder, and you rode him harder, your movements drawing an almost guttural sound from his chest.

His moans turned into low, needy grunts, his hands sliding back down to grip your hips. He didn’t just steady you—he guided you, his grip firm and deliberate as if he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him beneath you.

“Take my bra off,” you whispered against his lips, your voice soft but commanding.

His eyes darted to yours, wide and hungry, before his fingers moved to the clasp at your back. He fumbled for only a moment before freeing you, and the lacy fabric fell away, leaving you bare before him.

Cooper’s chest heaved as his gaze swept over your exposed skin. His pupils dilated, his breathing quickening as though he couldn’t fully process the sight of you.

He leaned back in, capturing your lips with his as his hands moved to your breasts. His fingers worked expertly, rolling your nipples between them with just the right amount of pressure. The sensations sent a wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you let out soft moans into his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut as you lost yourself in the moment.

His kisses grew more urgent, his lips trailing down your neck in a path that left your skin tingling. He paused to suck gently at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

“Cooper,” you breathed, your voice shaky as his lips continued their descent.

When he reached your breasts, his tongue flicked over one nipple before his teeth scraped it lightly, sending a chill down your spine that left you feeling numb in the best way. Your back arched instinctively, pressing yourself closer to him as your hands tangled in his hair.

He switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, and you couldn’t help the way your hips continued to grind against him. The friction between you was electric, building a heat that threatened to consume you both.

“Just like that, Cooper,” you moaned, your voice dripping with need.

Cooper’s lips found yours again, his hunger for you palpable in every kiss, every soft graze of his tongue. “Y/N,” he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and dripping with need. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his forehead almost touching yours. “I need you,” he confessed, his gaze dark and unwavering.

“Take off your pants,” you replied, your voice steady but heavy with anticipation. You held his gaze, matching the intensity radiating off him in waves.

Cooper stood from the bed, his movements quick but deliberate. He pushed his sweatpants and briefs down in one motion, and his hardness sprang free, standing proudly before you. For a moment, you simply took him in, your eyes roaming over his body, every inch of him completely enthralled by you.

Without breaking eye contact, you slipped off your panties and tossed them aside. He stood frozen, watching you, his chest rising and falling as his breaths grew heavier.

You knelt on the bed in front of him, pulling him back into a kiss that left both of you gasping for air. Your hand trailed down his torso, wrapping around his length as you stroked him with deliberate, measured motions.

Cooper groaned into your ear, his head tilting back slightly as he breathed heavily, your name tumbling from his lips like a prayer. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice shaky with need. “I want you so bad.”

You kissed him deeply, cutting off his words as you guided him back onto the bed. He laid down beneath you, his head resting against the pillows, his eyes glued to yours with a mix of awe and anticipation.

You climbed on top, straddling him as you positioned yourself over him. The room was thick with tension, every movement deliberate and charged. You could see the anticipation in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched slightly as he waited for you to close the distance.

Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, your wet heat enveloping his tip. Cooper let out a loud, guttural groan as his head fell back against the pillows, his hands gripping your thighs as if to ground himself. The sensation sent a shudder through you, and your back arched instinctively, your body adjusting to the feeling of him stretching and filling you completely.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice ragged.

You let out a soft moan as you took him fully, your hands bracing against his chest. His skin was firm and warm beneath your palms, his body sturdy enough to support you completely. You rocked your hips slowly, savoring the way he fit perfectly inside you.

Cooper’s hands found your waist, his grip firm as he guided your movements to match his. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You feel so good, Y/N.”

His eyes flicked down to your breasts, which moved with every motion of your body. He reached up, cupping them in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he watched you ride him with unrestrained admiration.

Your head tilted back, a moan slipping past your lips as the sensations built. “Cooper,” you gasped, your voice thick with pleasure.

He groaned in response, his hips bucking slightly beneath you as he moved with you, completely lost in the rhythm of your bodies.

You reached for his hands, intertwining your fingers with his as you shifted your position. Leaning forward slightly, you began to bounce on him, the new angle sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you.

The sound of your skin meeting filled the room, accompanied by the symphony of your combined moans and the breathless gasps of each other’s names. The intensity between you was overwhelming, your bodies completely in sync as the tension continued to build.

“Y/N,” Cooper groaned again, his voice deeper now, tinged with desperation. His grip on your hands tightened as his hips drove upward to meet your movements, his need for you consuming him entirely.

Your pace quickened, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you chased the high that seemed just out of reach. Cooper’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze full of adoration and unspoken promises as you both climbed higher and higher.

You continued bouncing on Cooper, feeling the waves of pleasure build inside you with every motion. The tension coiling in your body was undeniable, and you knew you were close—so did he. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements as your pace quickened, your breath hitching with every bounce.

The intensity grew until your legs trembled with the effort, and you slowed, needing a small break. Cooper, sensing your need, reached up and pulled you down for a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a way that left you breathless.

“Lay down,” he murmured, his voice husky with need.

You obeyed, your body melting into the mattress as he trailed kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, and along the curves of your body. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat in its wake, making you shiver in anticipation.

When he reached your center, he paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a smoldering intensity. His lips brushed against your most sensitive spot, sending a jolt through your body that made your back arch off the bed.

“Cooper,” you gasped, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair.

He didn’t hesitate, diving in fully as his tongue worked you with precision, licking and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your moans filled the room, your thighs trembling as he devoured you like a man starved.

“You taste so good,” he murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your body.

You barely had time to respond before you felt him slip a finger inside you, his movements slow but deliberate. Your hips bucked against him, your hands tugging at his hair as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable height.

“Fuck, Cooper, I want you so bad,” you moaned, your voice breaking.

He stopped licking you for a moment, focusing entirely on the slow, intentional pace of his fingers inside you. He looked up at you, his lips glistening, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Say it again.”

“Cooper,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, “I want you so bad.”

“Again,” he growled, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

You repeated it, again and again, each confession carrying more intensity than the last. Your voice became more desperate, and with each word, you felt yourself teetering closer to the edge.

“Cooper, please,” you finally begged, your voice cracking. “Fuck me, baby.”

In an instant, he was over you, his body moving with an urgency you hadn’t seen before. He angled himself at your entrance, his tip slipping in easily, the sensation making you gasp. He exhaled sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he pushed in deeper.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice strained as he fully seated himself inside you.

Your back arched, your body adjusting to the fullness of him as he began to move. His thrusts were steady but firm, his body pressing against yours with every motion. His biceps rested on either side of your head, framing you, and your hands reached up to caress his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with emotion.

Cooper adjusted his position slightly, spreading your legs wider to deepen the angle. The new depth sent a shockwave through you, and you cried out his name, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Cooper,” you moaned, your voice trembling. “I’m so close.”

“Me too,” he grunted, his hips rocking into you with renewed determination. “I want us to finish together.”

He lowered himself, hovering just above you as he maintained his rhythm. His breath was hot against your neck, and you felt his body tense as he worked to keep his pace steady.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Cum inside me, Cooper.”

Your words sent him over the edge. His thrusts grew erratic, each one more desperate than the last, until finally, the both of you came undone. Pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your moans mixing with his deep groans as he spilled into you, filling you completely.

His body collapsed against yours, his chest heaving as you both caught your breath. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of your breathing, the intensity of the moment settling into something quieter, more intimate.

Cooper rolled onto his side, pulling you close as he lay next to you. You turned to him, leaning in to kiss him softly, your lips brushing against his in a way that felt unhurried and full of meaning.

He rested his head on his hand, his other hand lazily tracing small circles on your shoulder. For a while, neither of you spoke, just basking in the afterglow.

When you finally broke the silence, it was with a teasing smile. “What?” he asked, his cheeks flushing as he caught the look on your face.

“If this doesn’t help you with the scene,” you joked, “I don’t know what will.”

Cooper laughed, his wide smile lighting up his face as he leaned in to kiss you again. “You’re impossible,” he said, shaking his head fondly.

“You love it,” you shot back, grinning.

And he did. He loved everything about you.

For the rest of the night, you stayed wrapped up in each other, the weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, replaced by something new.

[turcott3]

love language

jamie drysdale x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, smut!😝 (loss of v card, fingering, unprotected sex) fluff!!!!

positions fics masterlist

~teach me how to love you, i’m not learning what ain’t right~

-

another morning waking up in jamie’s spacious anaheim apartment was a strange feeling to you. you’d grown incredibly fond of him over the past few weeks of staying with him. you were just trying to get on your feet and were looking for a place of your own. trevor, a childhood friend of yours, introduced you to jamie some months ago and jamie was willing to help you while you sorted everything out with your move, trevor’s house being full and your urge to stay with that many guys was at a minimum, but jamie has a place to call his own which was something he always wanted and was willing to share his space with you.

“good morning.” jamie greets you from the couch with a mug of hot coffee.

“morning.” you reply rubbing your eyes and walking into the kitchen to make your morning coffee.

“i bought you a new bottle of creamer because i saw you were almost out.” he says once you open the fridge door.

“oh thank you.” you smile appreciating the small gesture.

“yeah you’re welcome, oh by the way, z, mase and leo are coming over tonight. we have like two days off so i figured you’d want to see them.” he says getting up off the couch and leaning on the tall counter.

“yeah that sounds awesome,” you smile taking a sip of your coffee, locking eyes with jamie. it was always hard for you not to stare for too long at his big, beautiful, blue doe eyes.

“great, i’m gonna get to cleaning the place.” he says drinking the last of his coffee and setting his mug in the sink.

“i’ll help?”

“no it’s okay, didn’t you say you had homework or something?” he says towering over you, standing a little too close.

“oh yeah, i do. we’ll just let me know if you need any help.” you say smiling awkwardly, exiting the kitchen with your coffee, quickly shutting the door behind you. you open your macbook trying to shake the funny feeling he left in your stomach during your short lived conversation in the kitchen. his proximity, his eye contact, his demeanor. it made you overthink, or so you thought.

“what the fuck?” you swear, blinking a few times after seeing how much time had past. it was already reaching 3 pm and you had spent the last 5 hours working on homework and an essay for your english class.

“i think i just got stuck in an alternate dimension, no way i was at my desk for five hours.” you say swinging your door open to jamie sitting on the couch watching tv.

“i didn’t want to interrupt you, when i opened your door you were locked in. i got you lunch tho, i put it in the microwave so it wouldn’t get too cold.”

“oh thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“well i felt like i should because you were drowning yourself in work and you needed to eat something.”

“i appreciate the gesture.” you say pulling the chipotle out of the microwave.

“they’ll be here at 5.” he says.

“okay, let me eat and shower and ill be out here.” you smile walking over to the couch to hug him, “ you’re the best.”

“yeah of course.” he says hugging you back gently. you took your meal into your room and ate it while you picked an outfit and let the shower warm up. right before you step in, your phone buzzes on the counter.

“hey z.” you say picking up.

“hey y/n, can’t wait to see you tonight. it’s been a while since we caught up.”

“yeah me too, i’ve missed you.”

“still a virgin y/n/n? i feel like it’s been long enough since i last checked in.” he asks.

“yes trevor, i told you that you’d be the first to know once i lost my virginity.”

“yep i’m waiting for that text that says ‘harmonica’.”

“oh yes, the code word.” i laugh.

“alright well i’ll let you go, ill see you at 5.”

“bye trev.”

“bye y/n.” he says, ending the line, finally allowing you to step into the shower. you longed for it to finally happen, you’re 20 how has it not yet? once you wrap up your shower you step out, flipping on your hairdryer, humming while you dried it almost completely. you slip on your leggings, throw on your crewneck and spray yourself generously with perfume. you walked back out into the bedroom and heard trevor’s familiar laugh. you slipped on your slippers and walked out into the living room, seeing all the boys sat at the table.

“y/n!” trevor says standing up and walking over to you, hugging you tightly.

“it’s good to see you too trevor.”you laugh as he lets you go. he brings you to the table where you sat directly across from jamie.

“wine anyone? mom got me a wine fridge and i just stocked it.” jamie says and presents a bottle of red wine proudly.

“sure.” you reply smiling, happy to see how proud he is of his wine fridge. he grabs you all glasses and pours one for each of you.

“cheers to being reunited.” mason says raising his glass and everyone following suit, jamie and i locking eyes for a brief moment before looking away, feeling occasional glances in my direction.

“how about some truth or dare?” trevor offers, setting his glass down.

“sure.” mason says with a smug smirk on his face.

“i’m in.” leo replies looking in your direction.

“yeah, yeah let’s play.” you say taking your last sip and setting your glass down.

“i’ll go first.” mason offers, “jamie, truth or dare?”

“truth?” he replies hesitantly.

“how many bottles of wine did you buy for that fridge yesterday?”

“seven.” he quickly replies.

“oh damn ok.” mason laughs, taking another sip.

“trevor, truth or dare?” jamie says turning to look at the clueless boy.

“dare.”

“call terry and tell him you still wanna walk his dog.”

“god, fine.” he says pulling his phone out and calling him.

“hey troy, what’s up?” he says followed by silence.

“yeah i was just calling to ask if i could walk your dog tomorrow? no? oh, okay. great, well thanks for the trust terry.” he laughs hanging up.

“tell you no?” leo asks.

“hahaha yeah.” he replies.

“it’s your turn.” you say cutting him off.

“jeez okay, y/n.” he says smirking looking at you.

“truth.” you say hoping it’s the safe route. trevor looks at you then looks at jamie, then to mason and leo before coming back to you.

“is it true that you’re still a virgin?” he asks with a smug look on his face, causing you to choke on your second sip of your new glass of wine.

“really dude?”

“it requires an answer.”

“yes trevor. i am still a fucking virgin.” i say, face flushing red now that jamie knows.

“alright your turn.” he smiles.

“last round. leo?”

“truth.”

“did you wanna get drafted by the ducks?”

“honestly…… no but i’m glad i am here now.”

“wow didn’t expect that one.” you say expecting a much more underwhelming reply. you finish your wine and rinse your glass out in the sink, finding your way to the couch leaving the boys at the table. they continue their conversation and you sit scrolling through your phone, thinking it would be rude to go to your room with guests over.

j: you good?

y/n: yeah i’m fine

j: okay, talk later?

y/n: sure

you reply one final time, turning on the tv and putting on a movie, distracting yourself from the elephant in the room. not to long after the boys join you on the couch watching the movie as well. jamie sat close to you, arm draped around the back of the couch where you sat. no one said a word to each other for at last 30 minutes. you scoot closer to jamie, leaning your head on his shoulder, eyes drooping with sleepiness. he rested his arm around your shoulder snuggly, his thumb gently caressing your arm.

“boys i think it’s time we head out.” mason declares standing up. it had been a few hours and it was starting to get late.

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow.” jamie says fist bumping them all as they filed out of the apartment. he olaced his arm back around me, this time more snuggly and boldly.

“you okay?” he asks, brushing his thumb in your bicep.

“yeah i’m just embarrassed. he always finds a way.” you admit to the brunette.

“he has a way of rubbing people the wrong way, i’m so sorry y/n.” he replies honestly.

“yeah he does.” you sigh

“so is it true?”

“is what true?” you ask fearing his question.

“are you actually a virgin?”

“yes, i am.” you sigh, embarrassed all over again.

“i mean is there like a reason why?”

“jamie i’m 20, there’s obviously not a good reason. i mean no one’s ever wanted me like that or been attracted to me in that way.” you say picking at your cuticles.

“that’s crazy.”

“what?”

“how has no one been attracted to you in that way?” he repeats and i turn to look at him.

“i mean they just haven’t.”

“they’re crazy.”

“what do you mean?”

“have you looked at you?”

“well yeah but-“

“no buts, come here.” jamie says moving you onto his lap, your hands locking behind his neck.

“what are you doing?”

“giving you the attention you deserve.” he smiles, pulling your chin to his, pressing a short kiss to your lips, sending butterflies through your stomach, leaving an anxious look on your face.

“jamie-“ you start.

“if you don’t want to do anything with me, tell me now and i’ll stop.” he says interrupting you.

“no it’s not that i don’t want to do anything with you, i’m just scared.”

“why are you scared y/n? tell me.” he replies, pushing strands of hair behind your ears.

“i’ve never felt beautiful like other girls so maybe ive just been afraid to ever put myself out there. that’s why im scared. that im not good enough.” you admit to him, never even wanting to admit that to yourself.

“well you should put yourself out there. sure there’s “beauty standards” but who gives a fuck? look at you. you’re so beautiful.” he says with his hands placed delicately on your waist.

“it’s just hard.”

“i’ll make sure you know how beautiful you are love, i promise.” he says running his hand lightly up and down your thigh.

“okay.” you say caving into his words. you grab onto his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss again. this time trying to assert yourself, showing him the direction you want the kiss to go. he puts his arms beneath you, picking you up bridal style, carrying you to his bedroom. a place you’d only entered a handful of times. delicately, he places you on the bed, removing his shirt and climbing over you, reconnecting your lips once again. you began to feel more comfortable, even thought him being shirtless was intimidating to you, you never realized just how toned he actually was.

“you’re so fucking fit jamie.” you say as he backs away to look at you.

“don’t make this about me honey, this night is all about you.” he says running his hands up your legs to the waistband of you leggings in which he assists you in removing. he tosses them in his hamper, clearly having no intentions of giving them back tonight.

“if i need to slow down or stop please tell me.” he says staring down at you, our faces mere inches apart.

“okay.” you reply, face turning rose. he connects your lips once more before assisting you shimmy out of your crewneck which you wore no bra under.

“no bra around the boys? bold move.” he giggles taking your breasts into his hands and kissing you as your hand found their way around his neck. he pulls away standing up again, removing his sweatpants leaving him only in his boxers. delicately, he runs his middle finger over your soaked core on top of the fabric of your lace thong.

“wow so wet huh?” he smirks.

“can’t help it, just want you.” you say boldly, encouraging him more. carefully, he removes your underwear tossing it aside as he runs two fingers through your folds. you were unsure what you were feeling, but knowing it was good was enough. suddenly he finds a sweet spot, kicking your feelings into high gear, unleashing a moan you’d never heard from yourself.

“oh my god jamie.” you say and he giggles.

“you like that?”

“yes fuck yes.” you huff out, never wanting the feeling to end.

“what about,” he pauses, inserting one finger into you, “now?”

you jump at the sensation, it doesn’t hurt too bad but definitely doesn’t feel great.

“a little uncomfortable but not bad, you can keep going.”

“okay.” he says beginning to slide his second finger in, causing a sting.

“okay that hurts a little bit.”

“well good thing i decided to do this first.” he smiles leaning up to kiss you, moving his fingers in and out of you carefully. it still felt weird but you didn’t want to get off on his fingers so you decided to let him go until you felt good enough.

“jamie?” you say opening your eyes and he lifts his head off your shoulder.

“mhm?”

“i’m ready.” you say and he removes his fingers, sucking them clean.

“are you sure baby, like 100% sure?”

“i’m 100% sure.” you reply.

“okay,” he says kissing you once again. he pulls down his boxers allowing his dick to spring free, your eyes directing right to its leaking tip. anxiety trying its best to hold off as he pulls you closer to him as he kneels on the bed, running his tip through you folds just the way his fingers had.

“tell me when it’s too much.” he says pushing in the tip warning a hiss from you.

“you okay?” he asks and you simply nod. he pushes in a little further, feeling your walls stretch out.

“okay wait stop for a sec please.” you say pressing your hands to his chest.

“whatever you need.” he says stopping abruptly. you nod signaling for him to continue and you even hold on and let him bottom out.

“god you’re so big, i feel so full.”

“you’re doing amazing baby.” he says kissing you sweetly on the lips trying to distract you from the sensation you felt between your legs. he retracts his hips slowly and carefully not wanting to hurt you before pushing back in at the same speed, gritting your teeth, trying to find pleasure in this sensation.

“you okay?” he asks.

“yeah i’m okay.” you reply and he continues, the discomfort finally beginning to subside.

“you feel so good around me y/n, so fucking good.” he smiles kissing you passionately. this thrust into you changed everything, pleasure washed over your body quickly, pushing a moan out of your throat.

“there it is, that’s my girl.” he smiles, thrusting a little faster and deeper.

“fuck jamie, that feels so good.” you say wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as his chain hung in your face, hair covering his. he continues his paces, brushing your sweet spot with every thrust, tightening around him.

“you gonna come for me baby?” he asks and you nod quickly, releasing the built up pressure that had built in your abdomen.

“fuck.” you say, the sensation making your legs shake.

“fuck i’m getting close.” he says, his thrusts getting sloppier and pulling out spurting his warm seed onto your stomach. quickly, he runs into the bathroom so wet a rag and wipe your stomach clean before throwing the rag in the hamper and going back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“jamie?” you ask. no answer. the feeling of regret beginning to rise in your chest. you grab your crewneck and underwear off the floor and, prepare to leave the room and lock yourself away.

“jamie?” you say again, tears threatening to form in your eyes.

“sorry i had to pee and then i had to answer an email i forgot abo- why do you have those?” he stops mid explanation.

“oh i uh, i figured you weren’t gonna come back out so i was just gonna go back to my room. i’ll hopefully have a place soon so i can get out of your hair.” you reply, scratching your head wondering why you even did this, “i’ll just go ahead and leave now.” you say starting to stand up and he stops you.

“woah woah no stop, did you really think i was gonna just dip after that?” he asks stepping in front of you, grabbing onto your arms.

“well….. kind of.”

“no baby, you’ve got it all wrong, come here.” he says climbing back into bed pulling you to his chest instantly.

“what do i have wrong?” you ask, placing your chin on his chest.

“do you honestly think i just had sex with you so you’d lose your virginity and stop being embarrassed by it?” he asks rubbing your back softly.

“that’s kinda what i assumed once you shut the bathroom.”

“well that’s not what happened and i’m so sorry i did that, i couldn’t have picked a worse time to remember i had an email to answer, anyways, the truth is that i like you, and i have for a long time. you’re beautiful, funny and smart. you’re you and i literally cannot get enough of it.” he says smiling locking eyes with you.

“wow, you like me?”

“yes i do, a fucking lot. i had sex with you because i wanted to and it felt so special being your first. guess i couldn’t pass up the chance.” he chuckles.

“it was amazing jamie, i don’t think i could’ve asked for a better first.” you reply, smiling from ear to ear.

“of course my love, you were so amazing, it seemed so natural to you.” he pauses, “also i want you to stay.”

“stay? what do you mean?”

“like i don’t want you to find an apartment for yourself, please just stay, i love having you here.”

“jamie you don’t have to-“

“i’m offering, it will save you a lot of money and i love your company. please stay.”

“okay i will if you want me to. i just don’t want to inhibit your space.” you say picking at your nails

“you won’t be don’t worry. and besides, we may sleep together eventually if we really truly to give us a chance, but you still have your own room when you need space.” he says.

“i- did you mean like share a bed with you?”

“i mean eventually if you want to share we could, no pressure at all.”

“well i guess we could give this a go couldn’t we.” you nod, sitting up on his lap looking down at him.

“if you’d like to give it a go, i would also like that… quite a lot actually.” he laughs and you lean down to kiss him.

“is that you asking me out?”

“more so asking you to be my girlfriend.”

“wow popped the question so soon.” you teased.

“i know we’ve only had like this night but having you around has made me so crazy about you.” he says scooting back to sit up a bit, keeping you on his lap, placing his hands on your waist.

“hey i’m joking babe, i would love to be your spontaneous girlfriend jamie.” you laugh, smiling widely.

“thank god.” he says, his arms wrapping around you and kissing you passionately. the rest of your night was filled with the pleasures of exploring your romantic connection. you talked, you cuddled, you started a new tv show, you fucked, you made out. you used one night to make up for all the time you spent living together, unknowingly pining for each others affection. eventually, the two of you fell asleep entangled in each other, completely obsessed with one another. you woke up the next morning to jamie pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“good morning my love.” he says talking into your cheek before kissing your it a few more times.

“good morning jamie.” you laugh opening your eyes to face him, allowing yourself to get lost in his gorgeous eyes.

“i slept so good.” he giggles.

“oh yeah, best sleep ever.” you giggle wrapping your arms around him and kissing him on the lips.

-

[babyhatesreality]

hello hello! i hope you’re well!💕 imagine the following:

baby being a hot chip fiend.

the thought has not left me. i’m plagued with thoughts of it on the daily.😭

since katie cat is a modern little, the thought of her enjoying and munching away on takis or hot cheetos while steve and/or bucky just recoil at the spiciness of it just makes me laugh.

especially since steve and bucky were just raised in a completely different time, a stomachache waiting to happen for them, is literally just a casual little snack for her.😭💀

however, there’s also the possibility that at least one of them…bucky would like the spice.

OMG @spoopynortherndownwhore!! So this is hilarious for a multitude of reasons. The first being- I adore this idea and it makes me laugh so hard- you are a genius. Also I'm so sorry for the delay. The second- I am the absolute opposite of a hot chip fiend. Like some of the Taco Bell mild stuff is too much for me. So I have absolutely no idea how to write it because I am literally that person that get a whiff of a spicy scent and starts making faces like a two year old confronted with broccoli.

So all that being said....Imma make some stuff up because it makes me laugh and because you are amazing and I hope it makes you laugh!

This one time you were grocery shopping with Bucky, and a package of Flaming Cheetos caught your eye. You thought the cheetah with the fire behind him was pretty, so you asked if you could get it.

Bucky wasn't sure about this. "Baby, these are hot and spicy. I don't think you're gonna like 'em." But when your face crumpled with disappointment, of course he couldn't handle that. He tossed them right into the basket. "What the heck. Let's live a little."

Your cheering and giggles was all he needed to know it was the right move.

Once you got home, you were desperate to try them, but Bucky insisted on you eating a normal lunch first. Once you finished your pb&j and carrot sticks, you both decided to try them together.

At the first taste, your eyes widened from the burn, your nose wrinkled as it ran, and your tongue felt like it was on fire. And you liked it a lot. You didn't care for the burn, but once you got past that the taste was really good! You reached for another one, but your hand was intercepted.

Because Bucky, who had popped one in at the same time as you, was nearly gagging. He felt like his face was exploding, his guts were on fire, and he didn't even want to think about what was happening in his colon.

"Absolutely not," he wheezed at you, keeping a hold of your hand while snatching the bag. He put the offending fire chips from hell in the top cabinet above the fridge where you couldn't reach even with your step stool before grabbing the gallon of milk. He sloshed some into your glass quickly, before drinking straight from the jug himself.

Once he tamed the burn, he became aware that you were just watching him curiously, having not touched your milk at all.

"Didn't that burn?" Bucky asked, his voice still hoarse from the spice. You nodded.

"Yeah but it was fun!"

"FUN?!"

"Yup! Can I have another?"

"No, baby, I don't want it to hurt your tummy."

"Doesn't hurt!"

"It might not hurt now, but it'll hurt later. No more flaming hot cheetos."

"Dat's no fun."

"You'll thank me later."

"You didn't like dem, Daddy?"

"They're not gonna like ME, munchkin. Drink your milk please."

After you had obeyed and had a milk mustache, you tried again. "Dey didn't taste good to you?"

"They tasted fine, but that burn....yikes," Bucky mumbled as he wiped your face.

"I like da taste too!"

"The taste WAS good, but it's not worth it."

"Please, Daddy? Just one more?"

"Sorry Trouble, it's not happening again."

"But what if Papa like da taste? Can he has them?"

"Okay, now THAT'S a fun idea."

Later that night, Bucky had convinced Steve to try one, and relented on letting you have another- mostly so he could watch Steve's reaction to you having no reaction.

It went exactly how you think it would go.

Steve banned them from the house after watching you down three cheetos in a row in absolute horror.

When you asked what was going to happen to the rest of the cheetos since they weren't allowed in the house anymore, Bucky brushed it off, saying they'd take care of it.

What you didn't know, was after Steve had tucked you into your bed that night, he caught Bucky sneaking a handful of them in the kitchen pantry with a tub of ice cream next to him.

Bucky just blinked at him innocent. "Don't you judge me, Rogers."

"Fine, Barnes. But you either point your ass the other way in bed tonight, or you're sleeping on the couch."

[youarejesting]

Ours

Based on this [PROMPT LIST]

Prompt: "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?"

Words: 444

Relationship: Felix x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Pining 

Summary: Waiting for Felix to return from tour you were starting to doubt your friendship, looking for any form of comfort until he comes home.

There was nothing you hated more than being on your own and unfortunately, when your best friend was a Kpop Idol, it was inevitable that you spent seasons on your lonesome. Watching them through the screens like any loyal Stay. Pushing down jealousy at the fan's discussions regarding their personal lives, like you didn’t know all their darkest secrets growing up beside them. 

The days would start to blur together and things were left unsaid.

“Where are you?” DELETE “How was your day?” DELETE “Is the concert going well?” DELETE “I saw pictures when you were in LA” DELETE “Look at this funny meme” DELETE “I miss you” DELETE DELETE DELETE

You couldn’t bring yourself to hit send. Sometimes you caught them in the chat, the three dots wiggling to signal that they were composing a message. What could they possibly have to say? You would never know because eventually they would disappear and nothing would be recieved.

They returned to Korea a week ago and hadn’t thought to contact you nor meet up. They were busy. It wasn’t because they hated you. It wasn’t because you were a bother. It wasn’t because they actually felt sorry for you and never actually wanted to hang out in the first place. Right?

It was a slippery slope that left you weeping a few times, checking your phone only to feel the disappointment grow. Feeling sick as your thoughts grow more and more intrusive. Abandonment issues rearing their ugly head as you bring your self back to the empty Chatroom. You found his things they had left behind in your apartment a beanie, a stuffed toy, a hoodie but their comforting scent had faded from each item.

Tossing your phone across the couch you make an effort to remove them form your mind concentrating instead on making lunch. Making lunch consisted of starring into the fridge deciding what you would eat versus what you were actually willing to create.

Contemplating your laziest option; a few slices of cheese your thoughts and outstretched hand interrupted by a knock at the door. Grabbing a single slice as you begrudgingly shuffled to the entryway. Placing the slice between your lips to free both hands for what you assumed was a parcel.

Lee Felix. 

Standing there in all his glory. Every ounce of anguish disappearing as his image imprinted in your brain once more. Blonde Felix. Freckled and pouty lipped Felix. Your best friend Felix. Felix with the shy smile. Felix with– 

"Is that my shirt?" Eyes drawn to the very familiar pastel pink and cropped shirt, the hem falling at the smallest part of his waist. The words ‘baby girl’ written in a darker pink extremely curly cursive font. 

"You mean our shirt?" He gave the prettiest smile leaning against the door, hoping you would invite him in.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

It was only supposed to be a one night stand (part 4, Option YES)

Tw: sexual mentions

damn was hoping u guys would choose no so i could like show off his more yandere aspects but i have enough braincells to only choose one path, anwyasyys ejoyy

Part 3, part 5

You can't believe you're considering it, but you definitely gave him hope. He grinned from ear to ear when you said that you're going to see what you could do. As someone living in a big city, commitment is like the boogeyman to you. Or maybe it's something you also yearn for, but the hookup culture around you makes it near impossible.

Montgomery seems... okay. You don't know how you're going to fare from being a workaholic single and freely fucking strangers from dating apps, to becoming a committed partner to a country bumpkin.

You thought about it and you definitely felt bad. You used him for his money even though he didn't have a lot in the first place, you used him for his body and his time. Yet he's not your boyfriend, he was still under the "friend with benefits" umbrella. Maybe he deserved the promotion, he was nothing but loving and kind to you.

He thanked you profusely and promised ad nauseum that you're going to be loved and have a good time.

You didn't want to eat any more of the soup. It's cold and congealed, you stood up and walked away. He frantically asked where you were going.

You said that you're tired and you didn't want any more of the soup. He offered to reheat it for you, but you didn't respond and retired to your bedroom.

It felt surreal to him and you. Over the following days, Montgomery stayed over at your place. He felt like he was in bliss because after years of hurting his back by sleeping in his cramped car, he gets to sleep in a comfortable bed for a longer period of time. He could stretch and not hit his hand against the roof.

You couldn't believe that you're practically letting him move in. You could be minding your own business and doing chores, and he would come from behind to hug and kiss you. He probably knew that you secretly liked it because your shoves and shouts no longer deter him. He would pick you up and twirl you around at the most random times.

It makes sense his cooking skills are close to none, he's been living in his car for a while now and his mother does the cooking at home. So his tastebuds are accustomed to the chock-full takeout of sodium, oil, and sugar. You tried being nice and cooked him a meal, which he appreciated a lot and finished. But when you're not looking, he would use up to a bottle of hot sauce a meal. You also wondered why your salt and sugar stores were depleting rapidly.

The one thing that confused you is that his presence is rarely felt in the bathroom. At least in the living room, kitchen, and bedroom, he has his own personal belongings strewn around. But not the bathroom aside from his toothbrush and toothpaste. You thought he used your soaps, but it wasn't running out as fast as you expected.

Until one day, you caught him entering the shower with a bottle of dishwashing detergent in his hand. You said nothing and waited to see what he would do.

Once he was done, he returned the liquid soap to the kitchen. Is that why his hair felt like broom bristles? It... does make sense, though. Dish soap can remove the toughest stains and it's cost efficient too especially with his occupation as a construction worker. But it's still bizarre to witness.

Though he can't cook to save his life, he makes the best sweet tea you ever tasted, even though you felt like it would give you diabetes induced gangrene for every sip you take. There is always a pitcher full of it in your fridge.

He drives you to work every single day, pecking you on the forehead goodbye and telling you that he's going to come by for lunch. You're not necessarily spending all your breaks with him though, but now you're considerate enough to tell him if you're going to be with your coworkers.

He would be sulkier and clingier than usual if you went out without him.

You wondered what he did for fun. Observing him wasn't giving you the information you wanted, because as soon as he comes back from a long day of work, he would collapse onto the sofa and doze off- that is if you're both not fucking each other.

He rarely takes days off because he needed the money to keep sustaining his takeout-fuelled lifestyle. Montgomery needs cash more than ever now because he has another mouth to feed, even though you rather cook your groceries instead.

Perhaps he doesn't understand. He said that you must be exhausted from working, cooking will only make your fatigue worse. You think he's forgetting you're working a desk job, not something that requires the calories in a bucket of double deep fried chicken.

"You work so hard everyday." He had a concerned look on his face when you shook your head at the pizza box. "You should rest instead of cooking. I have dinner covered."

He also covers lunch. And breakfast.

Breakfast is usually hotdogs or whatever food stalls are open nearby. Since he has access to your fridge and freezer, you note that he would eat the leftovers or stuff that you rejected. It seems like he reheated it before bringing it to work.

You're slowly accepting him into your life. Sometimes you would pack lunch for him and it never fails to make him kneel in front of you and kiss your knuckles. At least you know that he's grateful no matter how over the top his displays of appreciation were.

He may be messy at times, but he's a good man. He takes out the trash, he wash the dishes and he sweeps the floor. So you could forgive the occasional pair of paint-soiled pants lying on the floor. Unfortunately, your water and electric bills went up because he had to use your washing machine quite frequently. You complained to him about it, and he apologized and insisted on paying your utility bills from now on.

It was weird... to say the least when he spent a week beating himself up for being 'ungentlemanly'. When pressed what he meant by that, he said he felt embarrassed that you're providing for him, while it should be the other way round. So to give his manly pride back, he's also paying for your, student loans, mortgage, and groceries. And other miscellaneous subscriptions that weren't there before meeting him.

The weight of the expenses is visibly wearing him thin. But he keeps going, earning as much as he can to spoil you. More times than you can count, you had to console him because he was comparing himself to rich men in sports cars who could afford to pamper their partners with luxury. He kept thinking that he was this lowly cretin that couldn't even muster the funds to buy you a chic car. Completely dismissing the fact that his paycheck each week solely goes to your personal expenses and none to his savings. Sometimes borrowing fifty bucks from his coworkers just to get you a bouquet of roses that you may or may not have thrown into your compost bin.

You never asked for these costly, but romantic gestures. But he insisted, claiming it was a boyfriend's duty; even seemingly suffering from mental breakdowns if he didn't do them.

It confused you, did this all start because you told him off for using the washer too much? It's not like you blew up at him, you just told him to be mindful of his habits.

Then one day, when both of you had days off, he brought you to the mall to shop. He told you to get whatever you wanted, no price was too high for him. Except, you know at least two-thirds of the goods you eyed at was going to bring him to bankruptcy.

While looking at something from a window, you saw in your reflection, Montgomery watching something.

Shifting your eyes, you spotted him staring at a man carrying shopping bags upon shopping bags for his girlfriend. Then he brought his attention to a couple buying an expensive jewel-crusted necklace in a nearby store. There was a man who gave his husband a credit card, which he then happily pranced into the nearest smartphone store. A woman came out of a salon with fresh acrylic nails, they had intricate designs on it. Must have been pricy, but a man was the one who paid for her appointment, the woman then hooked her arm around an older gentleman's; pecking him on the cheek as they walked away.

He locked his eyes on a man with the most beautiful, long jet-black hair. Dressed head to toe in classy clothes, clacks from his heels reached Montgomery's ears as he walked past him. Not once sparing a glance at your boyfriend, deeming him too insignificant. The stranger adjusted the straps of his very obviously luxury bag on his shoulder. The man clearly extrudes wealth and elegance.

You saw Montgomery's shoulder sag, realizing that his shirt and chore jacket were old and relatively tattered, ruined by old stains. He brought his hands to his rough stubble and sun-spotted skin, he is nothing like the normal inhabitants here. He crossed hugged his arms and hunched his back, attempting to shrink himself.

At first, you didn't get what was he looking and reacting at, because you're used to the scene. Then you realized, he had probably never seen such things occur in his small hometown, he must have noticed it even more since you and he officially became a pair. Making him horribly insecure about his financial standing, he must have felt incredibly left out by the community in the city. Hence the crippling loneliness.

You wonder if you should say anything.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Hogtied: Part 4

You're surprised the next day to see all of the men sitting at breakfast as though nothing is wrong. You sit with them, trying not to make it obvious that you are checking their injuries, only to look directly in Ghost's eyes when you try to casually glance over.

"We're fine, Luv. Be off for a while for recovery, but we are fine." You huff at him. "You know I worry about all of you. Especially with not being able to do the work myself. Bit of a control freak, I suppose."

Soap grins, "never woulda guessed you liked being in charge, hen. Coulda fooled me." You roll your eyes and turn back to your plate, happy they are in good spirits.

You ask them their plans for the day, but they don't have any beyond relaxing in front of the telly. With a nod, you agree with that. "Lunch is on me, then. Already owe the Captain butter chicken, anyway. I will set up an order, just call in what you want and they'll deliver it." Every set of eyes near you is suddenly laser focused. "Umm... I ate his butter chicken, and he caught me with it."

"Lordy, ye dinnae?!" At your nod, the men around you all start talking at once.

"I told him I would replace it, and he let me eat. But good god, you lot need to clean out that fridge more often. I went through so many gross leftovers trying to find something edible." Ghost smirks.

"Who's leftovers were you going to try first?" Your eye twitches as you contemplate if you should lie or start running, and you see his eye zero in on it.

"Nae, ye dinnae! Ye dinnae!"

"Shut up, Soap! It was yours, Ghost. I figured you ordered the best food, so I checked yours first!" With that, you stand up and run from the hall, Ghost leaping up to chase after you. You duck into a closing door just to the right of the dining hall and sprint to the other end, barely making it around the corner before he is onto you. He wraps his arms around your waist and throws you over his shoulder. "The food was bad! I binned it! I didn't even eat your food!"

"You tried to take it, that's guilty enough for me." He carries you to the rec room with the rest of the men are waiting and tosses you gently on a couch. "As punishment for raiding our fridge, you have to sit and watch movies with us."

"Can I at least go get my book?" You knew the answer, and he knew you knew, so he ignored you. "Fine, but I deserve the option to nap if you pick something shite."

"What do you mean by that? We don't pick shite."

"Time Traveler's Wife. We all cried over it, and if I find out who picked it... never getting numbing before stitches again!" Laughter spread around the room at your rant.

"Then what is your favorite one," asked Soap.

"Something with explosions, maybe some angst, oh a holiday movie! Die Hard. Die Hard is good." The whole room groaned. That was always your go-to answer.

"Doc, I know that ain't your favorite. C'mon, I know you hate personal questions, but ya gotta at least tell us your favorite movie on movie day." You shift uncomfortably on the couch and shrink into your, no König's hoodie a bit.

"I... umm... I like Gladiator. It's one of the only ones that I re-watch." The men are quiet at your answer, and Ghost squeezes your shoulder gently.

"Gladiator up first then." You rest your hand on his briefly with a small smile. Ghost and Soap flop down on either side of you, squeezing you between them. The movie starts, and you sit forward on the couch, nervous. Ghost leans forward and tugs you back, pulling you to lean against his side. "You can nap if you want to, but relax. You've been anxious since before we left."

"I could tell this mission was going to be a doozy. I hate being right." You watch the entire movie, relaxing against him with his hand rubbing your back gently.

When it ends, you sit up and stretch, glancing over and seeing Soap sleeping with his head tipped oddly. You stand carefully and readjust him, so he is sitting more comfortably. When you get back from peeing and grabbing a drink, you see that he has taken over most of the couch, leaving no room next to Ghost, who also looks like he is about to nod off.

When you edge back toward the door, Ghost wags his finger at you, so you look for an open seat. Your eyes alight on König, sprawled across a smaller couch by himself.

"Budge up a bit. Soap kicked me out of the cuddle pile." He chuckles and moves his leg to let you sit down.

"We make our own cuddle pile then." He lifts his arm so you can lay against his chest. The next movie is one you haven't seen yet. You only make it about halfway through before falling asleep. The smell of Indian food wakes you up. When you go to sit up, König's arm tightens around you, holding you against him as he sleeps. You debate pushing free, but opt to relax against him, falling back asleep. When you wake next, your body is sore from the shit couch, but you feel cocooned in warmth. Rubbing your face deeper into the warm has it moving away as König gently sits you up. As soon as he lets go, you press against him again.

"So warm... safe..." You feel his body melt against yours.

"Sorry, König. Should've warned ya that she is a level ten clingy cuddler when she falls asleep. Can't pry her off until she's actually awake."

"My back hurts," he says in response. That's all you need to wake up. You sit up, concerned.

"Has it been hurting all day or just since I came over? Can you wiggle your toes? Is there any numbness?" He just stares at your full 180 attitude while Ghost groans.

"The only thing that can get her to stop cuddling: Doctor Mode. Never mention a health issue if you want cuddles, bruv. She can't switch it off hardly at all."

"Do you have-?" König rearranges himself to lay on his back and tug you into his chest.

"Relax, Schatz. I am fine. We will watch more movies together." You relax against him again.

It only lasts a few minutes before you hear thrashing and yelling. You scramble up and see Soap fighting in his sleep. Everyone is standing well back, but Ghost looks torn. You push through the crowd and dodge Ghost's arms to carefully climb in Soap's lap, wrapping your arms around his torso to act as a stabilizer. You try to dodge his wild thrashing, feeling his fist clip your face as you move close to him. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck to keep him from hitting you again and begin singing quietly to him.

"Can ye no hush your weepin'

All the wee lambs are sleepin'

Birdies are nestlin' nestlin' together

Dream Angus is hirplin' oer the heather

Dreams to sell, fine dreams to sell

Angus is here wi' dreams to sell

Hush ye my baby and sleep without fear

Dream Angus has brought you a dream my dear.

List' to the curlew cryin'

Faintly the echos dyin'

Even the birdies and the beasties are sleepin'

But my bonny bairn is weepin' weepin'"

Slowly, Soap calms, and you are able to relax your hold. He cries silently into your shoulder as you sing the lullaby through a second time. You pull back and rest a hand on his cheek. "Are ye alright noo, laddie?" He nods, laying his hand over yours. "Good, because I need to make sure you didn't tear anything up."

He growls and doesn't let loose your hand, staring at your face. "First ye'll tell me where ye git yon blue keeker."

"Ghost skelped me. Said I was too mouthy during the film." You pull your hand back with a grin and scoot back in his lap to tug up his shirt, checking that he hasn't popped any stitches.

"Dinnae be telling me havers."

"Ah wud never tell ye havers. Ahm a saint of a Catholic." Laughter bursts around the room, many knowing you were not Catholic at all and having heard many lies come from you to protect them or convince them to do something they hate.

"Ye dinnae have it when scran was here. Ye were sleepin on yon big yin." You shrug and glance over at the food.

"Well, ye look bonnie." You stand with Ghost's help, the grumble of your tummy making him chuckle.

"Go eat, luv. We got him from here."

"Ghost, did you hit the wee doctor? I ken ye dinnae, but-"

"English, Bubbles. And if she said I did, then I must have. The doctor is a saint of a Catholic, after all." Soap sputters, unable to form any words.

Walking over to the table, you spot your food, König's and... the Captain's. He didn't come get it. You huff and carry it to his office, knocking firmly.

"Enter," Captain Price's voice floats through the door. Opening it, you see he is in a meeting with another man.

"Sir, you didn't grab your lunch, so I figured I would deliver it." He nods his thanks and gestures for you to bring it to him.

"Since when are delivery drivers allowed to bring food directly to you? And when did they start dressing so terribly?" You glance down at the hoodie draped over you and open your mouth to respond. Captain's voice cuts you off.

"Sir, this is the doctor I was speaking about. It is merely her day off." He somehow balances censure of the other man with respect in a way that has you in awe of his skill.

"Hmph. In my day, women were expected to dress up for the men around them, on duty or off." You bristle, and Captain tries to intervene again.

"We do not police what the men wear on their days off. We certainly won't with the women we work alongside. Now-"

"I'm just saying female doctors need to have a little self-respect and demand enough respect to be obeyed by the men." Price could not be fast enough to silence your barked laughter.

"Sir, with all due respect, the men don't care at all what I am wearing as long as I am fixing their injuries. This hoodie you are so dismissive of is but a sign of the respect of the men. I wonder, how would you convince a heavily muscled, 16 stone man to submit to having the mask removed that he considers part and parcel to who he is? One that less than a dozen living men have seen under since he first donned it."

He snorts and says, "Enough orderlies will force any man to submit to anything."

"And thusly you have destroyed any and all trust that man has in you or the medical profession. I have convinced that man, peacefully, to remove his mask. Built up trust over time to convince him and many others to give a full and unabridged medical history by allowing them the right to privacy. Hell, I have convinced a prisoner that came here hogtied due to how dangerous he was to not only allow me to treat him without needing restraints but to allow the removal of his mask. That man has become one of our greatest assets, in part, due to the respect afforded to him, which started in the medical bay. So, to hear you say that brute force and dressing pretty are the only two ways to gain respect around here is not just inappropriate but sets a dangerous precedent for the men we serve. Such a precedent, I will not allow to take root in my clinic." Silence fills the room after you finish speaking. The man turns to Price.

"I'm convinced. Promotion approved." He signs a piece of paper on the desk. Captain grins at your stunned and confused face.

"Agreed. That was quite a moving statement, Major. Soon to be Lieutenant Colonel, I suppose." Your eyes narrow in suspicion as you look back and forth between them.

"Sir, am I to be expected to leave and work in a different facility, then? If so, I do not want this promotion."

"You'll have to go where assigned, doc. That's above my paygrade to influence."

"Yes, and your opinion on a promotion doesn't matter. If you are promoted, you will work where assigned until the end of your contract."

"I won't leave my men. It would take many steps back. It was jokingly mentioned not long ago, and they nearly mutinied."

"They will get over it." The man seems smug, and it is ticking you off something fierce.

"That's fine then, Captain. I am sure my parents will be thrilled to hear that I no longer wish to work for the military."

He winces, "Now, doll. There's no reason to go involving your parents. I'm sure we can work something out."

"Parents? The military does not care bout the opinions of parents." He scoffs at your threat.

"They do when they have money and political favors. Captain, I will do everything in my power to stay, including sabotaging a promotion. If you force my hand, I will find a way out rather than have to start over somewhere else. Please, do not push me on this, I love working here."

You are begging at this point. Leaving your men would be devastating. You've tried to stay under the radar ever since finding out that promotions mean leaving, even to the point of refusing to record the advanced training and techniques you have taken and the ones you have pioneered.

"I understand, Major. We will discuss this further later." You know a dismissal when you hear it.

"Yes, sir."

The next thing you know, you are back in the rec room, sitting in front of your food. Ghost appears at your side and nudges you gently.

"What happened, Luv?"

"I got promoted, I think. Maybe."

"Woo-"

"Shut up. It isn't a good thing."

"Why not? You are moving from Major to Lieutenant Corporal! That is great! They've been ignoring you for too long." He starts to stand, and you drag him back down.

"If I get promoted, I have to leave. I-i won't be here anymore. That's why I've been hiding from it."

"Oh," he says as he settles back in. "You've been avoiding more money and shit to stay with us? But why?" You nod and shove a piece of food in your mouth, trying to get a bit of time to think.

"I just... I really love working with you guys. It's exactly the job I wanted since I had to be a doctor. Working with adrenaline junkies who save the world, ya know?" You sigh and lean against his shoulder. "I really like the relationships I've built here. You guys are respectful and kind. Female officers don't usually much respect."

He rubs your arm gently. "Heard and understood, luv. We will figure this out together, then. Eat up, and we can watch another movie before dinner."

You wake up later sandwiched between Ghost and Soap on the couch, each wrapped around you somehow. Your last thought before falling asleep again is the way this feels like home.

The next week, Captain Price sets a meeting with you. When you tell Ghost, he immediately wants to go with you. Despite turning him down every time and refusing to tell him when, he catches the closing door and silently stands behind your chair. The Captain stares at him for a long moment before opting to ignore him completely.

"I've arranged this meeting to discuss your upcoming promotion and what it means for you and the men."

"I understand, sir. I can have the files updated and ready for transfer in about two weeks. I will need to meet one on one with each man to ensure the transferred files meet with his approval based on the policy in effect." Captain Price looks surprised.

"You don't intend to pass on the full histories to a replacement?"

"No, I am afraid they will be accidentally dropped into a paper shredder, and there will be an incident with a small bin fire just off base. Quite unfortunate, but not preventable." You keep your gaze passive and meet the Captain's own look evenly. "I will ensure that the approved files do not meet with such an end. I will also endeavor to provide a full list of the procedures and techniques that we have pioneered under my command so that there is consistency for the men. They do so hate change."

"I hope the former will not be necessary, and I implore you to implement the latter. As an aside, in speaking further with the RAMC, we have come to an agreement for you to stay here at this post indefinitely. It was deemed necessary to current and future missions to maintain consistency in medical care. I was asked to pass on a message: All doctors are required to record their advanced training and education, and thus, it is expected that you will update your records accordingly. I believe that covers everything." His grave face suddenly breaks into a smirk, just as you begin crying with joy.

"Thank you, Captain! Thank you!" He stands and moves around his desk to wrap you in a hug.

"You did good, doll. I am so proud of the work you have done, and now it will be recognized by everyone else." He smiles down at you and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Now, please do those updates. I called in some big favors and made some promises to work this out." All you can do is nod before you are pulled from the Captain and crushed against Ghost's chest.

"Woohoo! You're staying with us, luv!" He drags you to the door with a bare minimum of respect for Captain Price, refusing to let you stop and say goodbye. "Time to go tell everyone. We will have a party!"

"I've never seen you so excited for anything, Ghost. Slow down, I'm gonna trip!" He huffs playfully but slows down.

"I wanted to get you out of there before the Captain decided he needed to address what you so casually stated, but it is exciting to keep you on. I have been trying to decide how to break into your office for those files for the last week." You stop and frown.

"Don't do that. It would be dangerous to try to steal them." He cocks an eyebrow. "Yes, dangerous. You seriously don't think all I have protecting them are a few flimsy filing cabinet locks after how long it took to get that information. There is life and death information in them. I called in a few favors to build a security system of sorts for it."

"That's... that's sexy as hell, luv. You are one loyal woman." He stares down at you for several long moments, starting when someone clears a throat a little ways away.

"Sorry to break up the party. I heard you had your meeting today. How did it go?" König asks innocently, making you glare at Ghost.

"You weren't supposed to tell anyone!" He holds his hands up in surrender, backing away.

"I was pretty sure you weren't leaving, promotion or not. We just want to celebrate with you."

"Ghost! Lech mich am Arsch! Bastardo! Schluckspecht!"

"Come, mein Schatz. It is good that we celebrate now. You are staying, and we do not have to stage a rebellion." König picks you up as though you are just a child, carrying you away from a laughing Ghost even as you yell more insults. You want to fight away from him, but you can't stop from pressing closer. You can barely stop yourself from nuzzling against his shoulder. It takes a minute then for you to realize that he has turned away from the rec room, which is where you're sure the party is supposed to be.

"König, where are you taking me?" You catch your traitorous fingers rubbing at the back of his neck under the mask. "Sorry."

"I like your hands on me, meine Prinzessin. I wanted to talk to you without prying eyes and ears..." You rub your fingers against his collarbone through his shirt. "Yes, I like that." You blush and lean forward, stopping just in front of his lips. He cups the back of your head, closing the distance and kissing you through his mask.

You feel your back pressed against a wall and hear the jingle of keys. König has brought you to his quarters. He carries you in, kicking the door shut and locking it. Laying you on the bed, he says, "Tell me what you want, Schatz. I need to know."

"I want this, König. I want you. Bitte." He quickly strips off his clothes and mask, giving you space to do the same.

"Gut. I will fuck you, then I will take you to the party as meine Prinzessin... if you can walk." He chuckles as he climbs on the bed, pushing your legs up and laying his cock against your stomach. "It will be a tight fit. Might take all night to loosen up you up." He is excited, talking fast and teasing you with his fingers already.

"Promise?" Your question is loaded, but he nods happily.

"Yes, Prinzessin. You will take the whole thing before the night is over. I will make sure of it." He leans down close to your ear, "I will make you mine forever."

[perplexedflower]

Something Familiar

Fandom: Resident Evil.

Category: F/M.

Relationship: Chris Redfield x Female Reader.

Type: One shot.

Words: 5,126.

Summary: Blurry memories, a somewhat familiar environment… As [Y/N] finds herself waking up one morning in a bedroom that is not hers, all her questions are soon answered as she reunites with Chris after what has seemed like an eternity.

Chronology: Post-Resident Evil 8.

~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling as though I was waking up from a deep slumber, I opened my eyes slowly, and immediately found myself surrounded by a familiar smell; not too soft, but not too strong at the same time. It did not take me long to realize I was lying on a bed, although, not in my bedroom, therefore deducing I was not at home. I looked around and down at my body, only to find it buried underneath the sheets of a large double bed, reigning in a large bedroom, entirely illuminated by sunlight shining through a window to my left which forced my eyes to open wider as I felt the rays warm the skin of my face.

After having truly awakened, I made an effort to move to the other side of the bed, next to which the nightstand was; however, the slightest movement of my body made me quickly realize how physically weak I was, as pain instantly flowed through my muscles. Once I had rolled over to my right, I turned my head to the clock resting on the nightstand and saw it was midday, around noon. Next to it, on one corner of the bedside table, I also noticed some pills and what seemed to be medication, though I had no idea what they were for, or who they were for; in fact, I had no idea what I was doing in this bedroom whatsoever.

I closed my eyes firmly as I took a deep breath in to try and remember my latest memories, but no matter how deep I dug, I had no clear recollection of what the past few days had been like for me.

Brushing my worries away, my attention was once more drawn toward the scent, the tender and affectionate smell that was emanating from the bedsheets and enveloping me whole. Rising into a sitting position ever so slowly, I pushed the sheets aside and got out of bed: but as I set foot on the cold floor, my legs immediately bent under my weight, as if having not carried me for a long time. I managed to steady myself by holding onto the side of the nightstand, stopping my body from falling back on the bed, and as I took more and more steps, started to regain balance.

By the time I had stabilized myself, I was out of the bedroom and into a short hallway; walking through it quietly, I was then faced with a flight of stairs that took me almost directly into a kitchen, neatly cleaned and ordered. Once there, a rather small piece of paper set on the counter caught my attention before I could really take in anything else in the room. Picking it up curiously, I first read my name on it and understood it was a memo addressed to me.

"Thursday, March 10.

If today is the day you wake up, you'll find some cereals and loaves of bread in the left-side cupboard in case you want to make yourself breakfast. If you're rather looking for a dish for lunch, you'll find some chicken and leftovers of stir-fried vegetables in the fridge. I cooked them yesterday so don't worry, they're still good to eat. I can only imagine how hungry you'll be after waking up, so don't hesitate to grab whatever food you want. However, please wait for my return if you want to cook something intricate, you won't be fully recovered and I don't want you to harm yourself or push yourself too hard until I come back.

Lastly, if you're looking to change into other clothes, you'll find a good portion of your wardrobe in the closet of my bedroom, on the right-side shelves."

No signature had been left at the end of the memo, but I did not need one to recognize it was written in Chris' handwriting.

Chris...

I held my breath, along with the piece of paper in my hands as I started thinking of him; a part of me felt taken aback, as if I had forgotten about him before and was only now remembering him. However, it felt to me like something was not quite right. I tried my best to remember what led me to end up in what evidently seemed to be his house, in addition to why it was empty, but no clear answer came to my mind. Instead, I focused on scanning the kitchen briefly, until spotting a bin, somewhat transparent and open, revealing its content to me.

Right away, I noticed from afar what appeared to be crumbled pieces of paper, and my suspicions were verified when I approached it: I grabbed the first one on top of the pile, unfolded it, and read it out loud. It bared the date from the day before, the 9th of March, and followed the same pattern as the up-to-date memo I had read barely a few minutes before. And still, it was in Chris' handwriting. I set it aside to pick up a few others, only to see they repeated themselves, with only the types of food available changing from one to another. Reading these notes, I felt something shake deep within my core, moving me, triggering something in me, without knowing what it was exactly.

Determined to find answers to my never-ending questions, I threw all the crumbled notes back in the bin, before deciding to wander around the house in hopes of finding even the slightest of things that would help my memory tick. Letting my hand drift on the walls gently, I progressed through each room, and soon felt some pieces of the puzzle starting to connect in my mind: this was indeed Chris' house, and I could recall that I had been there before, countless times. And although I was still unable to justify my presence there, or even why Chris himself was not home, I kept on venturing from room to room.

I eventually found the bathroom and stepped inside, walking towards the sink: looking at myself in the mirror, I found my face to be pale and frail, expressing fatigue. Only then did I notice I was only wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts, both from my personal wardrobe.

I deserve a proper change of clothes... and a shower. Feels like I haven't taken one in over a century.

Giving my face one last look in the mirror, I took my clothes off, set them aside, and stepped into the shower. Turning the water on, its contact with my skin instantly soothed me, easing me into a warm and cozy sensation. I allowed myself to spend as much time as I needed inside the shower, letting the hot water cleanse me, feeling it slowly trickle along my body. After having enjoyed the water's heat for long enough, I grabbed what I assumed could only have been a bottle of Chris' shampoo I had spotted nearby earlier, as well as a bottle of shower gel, confident that he would not mind me using them. Opening the cap of the shampoo bottle, I was instantly surrounded by yet another familiar smell, once again, like one of the bedsheets. The scent wrapped me completely, in a feeling of warmth and comfort; holding the bottle tight with my fingers, I let my mind roam deep into thoughts as I washed my hair and body.

After having spent quite some time washing, I stepped out of the shower and stared at myself once more: this time, I found that I looked considerably better, and, surely, less tired-looking. Wrapping myself in a towel, I threw my clothes in the dirty laundry basket and waited to have dried a bit before heading back to the bedroom, in search of the clothes Chris' memo had told me about. While waiting and as I made my way upstairs slowly, I could not help but think deeper about him, my mind still swirling with questions and interrogations.

Once in the bedroom, though, my concerns vanished, replaced with my longing to open the closet in which I would find new, clean clothes to change into; and, indeed, I opened the doors to find some, if not a considerate amount of my clothes, as rightfully indicated by Chris' note. A smile formed on my face and I felt a touch of blush appear on my cheeks as I wondered if he had personally chosen the clothes stored here himself, noticing they were mainly the ones I wore most often, as well as some of my personal favorites. I started taking some of my clothes off the shelves, wondering what to wear, depending on what would be most comfortable, as it was my top priority.

I feel like wearing these pants, but with this sweater, I might be too ho—

All of a sudden, I heard the sound of a door opening and closing downstairs, abruptly interrupting my thoughts; it was quickly followed by a couple of slow and heavy footsteps. A moment of silence ensued, then the sound of paper bags dropping on the floor tiles was immediately followed by the loud echo of yet another set of footsteps, this time, rapidly climbing up the staircase leading to the bedroom.

In the blink of an eye, the footsteps stopped and I was faced with Chris, barging out the bedroom door I had left unclosed, eyes wide open and exhaling from his mouth. We looked at one another in silence, staring into each other's eyes, and an indescribable feeling started filling me up.

"[Y/N]..." He whispered in a voice expressing shock and surprise, but a deep sense of relief as well.

I felt as though time had stopped, my breath held sharp, my eyes lost in Chris', until he took a step in my direction; I instinctively backed away, holding my towel close to my body, with visible hints of red spread all over my face. He suddenly stopped himself in his tracks and a thin layer of blush appeared on his cheeks as he cleared his throat and turned around to exit the room, both executed with embarrassment, before closing the door behind him.

Another silence reigned, this time heavy and tense. But barely a few seconds after the door had closed, I heard the sound of something hitting it lightly on the other side.

"Of course you'd wake up when I'm not home..."

Judging by how close his voice sounded, I guessed the sound I had heard was of his head resting against the door; feeling myself blush harder by what had just happened, I released the pressure of my hands on my towel, reassured Chris was not in the room anymore to see me in such a way.

"When did you wake up?"

"About half an hour ago."

I heard him exhale in relief from the other side of the door as I took in the composition of the bedroom; only then did I actually take a look around it, making my way slowly through the room.

"And how are you feeling?" Chris asked.

I walked to the other side of the bed and observed the ashtray set on the other nightstand.

"I've seen better days, but I'm fine."

Another sigh of relief.

"I see you've already taken a shower..." He started, his voice expressing light awkwardness. "That's good, I'm sure it must have felt refreshing."

I smiled a little as I gave him a nod he could not see. He cleared his throat again, the slightly lower volume of his voice making me understand he was backing away from the door.

"Well, I'll let you finish dressing up, in the meantime I'll go into the kitchen to clean the groceries I left on the floor. Join me downstairs once you're done."

"All right."

I looked down at my hands and played around with my fingers, listening to the sound of his footsteps as his words echoed through my mind; it had been way too long since I had last heard the sound of his voice, and it made a part of me feel warm and fuzzy. Quickly, I went back to the closet to slip into a pair of stretchy jeans and a t-shirt, trying my best to set my thoughts aside. But as I was about to close it back, my eyes fell on some of Chris' clothes, and, almost instinctively, I followed the voice inside of me telling me to pick one of his shirts up; slowly, I brought one of his turtlenecks up to my face, holding the fabric delicately, and taking in the scent emanating from it. Sudden sounds of rustling in the kitchen brought me back to my senses and I promptly put the shirt back on the shelf, my cheeks covered with red.

I briskly made my way down the stairs and entered the kitchen to find Chris putting food inside his shelves and fridge; he turned around to look at me and sighed once more, as if he was looking at the ghost of someone he had long lost hope of seeing again. I smiled at him and the second I did so, I saw his eyes shine brightly with a radiant spark. He gave me a slightly awkward smile back, before going back to store his groceries away.

I watched him go back and forth between his bags and his shelves, neither of us saying a word; it was as if everything was normal, the way it was supposed to be. But something was still off for me.

"Chris... can you fill me in as to what the hell's happening?" I started, placing an elbow on the counter. "You don't seem as confused as me, but I'd like to know why I woke up in your bed this morning, and why I feel so... strange."

His arm stopped midway into motion, hanging in the air for a few seconds, and he turned around with furrowed eyebrows.

"You don't remember what happened?"

"What happened when? My memory is really blurry, I've got no idea why, but it seems like I've been missing a part of my life recently."

Looking at me with concerned eyes, Chris slowly put a hand on the counter.

"[Y/N], you were practically sleeping for a week straight."

Like a kick to the guts, I was left stunned, keeping my mouth open for a few seconds, but falling speechless.

"... What?"

He gulped, visibly troubled, before finally setting down the pack of drinks he was holding, turning all his attention to me.

"About a week ago, you, me, and the rest of the squad were on a mission over on the other side of the country. Long story short, it was exhausting and required us to stay alert for a long while. You above all the others invested too much of yourself into it... and we later found out you'd deprived yourself of sleep for multiple nights in a row, just to keep your guard up. Not only that, but you weren't taking proper care of your diet either. We eventually decided to launch an attack plan, and you went into it with a weakened physical condition."

Chris marked a break in his story, looking down with what felt to me was remorse.

"You ended up getting hit. It wasn't anything serious, but it was enough to knock you unconscious. The second I saw you fall, I came to pick you up and gave you to Canine to watch over you until we'd be outta there. After we were done, we took off and brought you to a medic, who told us you had nothing severe, not enough to put you in a hospital, at least, but that you needed rest. He'd actually said we should expect to see you sleep for days on straight..."

He scoffed under his breath while slowly shaking his head, which was still lowered.

"Hell, even I didn't know it was possible to sleep for that long."

I looked into his eyes as I registered one by one each piece of information he had given me.

"And you brought me to your house."

Chris raised his head and looked back into my eyes with a sincere expression.

"I brought you here, so that I could keep an eye on you and treat you. I told the squad we'd set aside every mission we had planned until you'd wake up and fully recover, so I've been spending all my days at home since, set aside the occasional grocery shopping."

I felt the very core of my soul heat up as I smiled shyly.

"Thank you, Chris. For everything." I said warmly.

He looked down, seeming pensive, before turning back to unpack his last remaining groceries.

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't had the chance to lecture you properly about your behavior during the mission, and don't think you'll escape from it."

He's still the same old Chris. I thought while failing to suppress a gentle scoff. Nothing has really changed in the span of a week.

"You've got yourself injured and that's nothing to take lightly, [Y/N]." He continued with the same serious tone. "And speaking of which..."

Leaving his sentence unfinished, he closed the cupboards as he stored away his last supplies; he walked to me and put a gentle hand on my back, escorting me out of the kitchen to take me into the living room instead.

"Sit down." He ordered me, though not too roughly as he pointed to the couch in front of us.

"What for?"

"I have to inspect you to see if you're fine." He answered, already on his way to the couch.

I let a chuckle escape from my lips as I complied, too amused by the situation to disobey. He sat down beside me and I suddenly felt my smile disappear, replaced by shyness, feeling him so close to me on this couch, occupied mostly by blankets and pillows, leaving the both of us little room to sit, and forcing us to squeeze next to each other. He started grabbing my arms and inspecting me, holding my chin to make my head turn left and right.

"How have you been feeling since you've been awake? Any vertigo, any pain?"

"Chris, I'm fine." I said with a smile.

I tried making him understand it was pointless, that nothing was wrong with me, but he kept on inspecting me nonetheless, searching for any issue.

"Chris..."

"You were hit on the head, [Y/N], I can't overlook that."

Bringing his face close to mine, he grabbed the back of my head to examine it, feeling the surface of my skin with his palm to try and spot any abnormalities.

"Chris!"

He stopped moving, his face inches from me, his eyes locked on mine.

"I'm fine, really." I told him with sincerity.

I smiled from one corner of my mouth as I looked down at him quickly, before bringing my eyes back on his face.

"I'm just hungry."

He stared at me for a few seconds with a soft expression before backing away with a sigh.

"All right. It's time for lunch anyway."

Chris finally got off me and stood up from the couch, heading back to the kitchen, leaving me to smile at myself as I felt butterflies dancing in my stomach. This feeling reminded me of how much I had missed him during these seven days I had spent sleeping, how I was happy to fill this gap now that he was with me again; or, more so, that I was with him.

Getting up from the couch as well, I joined him in the kitchen, lured in by the sound of pots and pans. Seeing me beside him, Chris turned his head to me and looked into my eyes, his cheeks sprinkled with blush.

"Wanna cook with me?"

"Sure." I answered enthusiastically. "I'm not gonna let you prepare lunch all by yourself, after all."

"All right, but there are certain things I'm not gonna let you do, I don't want you to exhaust yourself too much." He replied, ever so seriously.

His concern once again made me laugh, given it was clearly unnecessary. I proved him wrong and showed him I was in good shape by helping him make lunch, fetching him ingredients and carefully making the dishes, though he made it clear he wanted me to stay away from any knife or sharp utensils, fearing I would hurt myself. Throughout our cooking session, I felt his attitude and behavior soften, seeing him let his guard down as he allowed his inner self to relax and enjoy this time with me.

I knew better than anyone that Chris needed to be eased into a sense of comfort and intimacy to make him drop his cold exteriors and reveal his true face; my light temporary amnesia had taken away parts of my memories, including some I had shared with him, but it did not take me long to recover them, little by little, as I laughed and joked with him in his kitchen. Once we had finished making lunch, we sat down in front of the counter to eat, facing each other.

Just as I was about to take my first bite, my mouth let a deep yawn out; as soon as I opened my eyes back, I laughed seeing Chris look at me with an unbelievable expression.

"I know what you're gonna say..."

He shook his head as he started digging his fork and knife into his meat.

"Seven days wasn't enough for you?"

"Apparently not." I said with a chuckle.

He brought his food to his mouth and I mirrored his movements; the second my palate tasted the dish I had cooked with him, I felt my body react as if it was only now waking up truly, suddenly regaining strength. Only then, as I filled up my stomach more and more with each bite did I realize how much I had craved food, and how my body had missed it during these seven days of slumber.

"I don't know if it's just me because I haven't eaten anything in a week, but this tastes delicious." I told Chris with my mouth full in-between two bites.

"No, it's not just you." He said with a chuckle. "It really is good, I'll admit we did a great job."

But his smile soon faded away to be replaced with a pensive expression instead.

"Seven days, though..." He started, shaking his head slowly while bringing his fork up to his lips. "There's no way you actually spent every one of your days here sleeping... Do you remember anything? Maybe you opened your eyes every now and then before dozing off again?"

I swallowed the bite I had in my mouth before shrugging quickly.

"I don't know... I think I do remember some vague moments when I woke up in your bed, but they never lasted long, and nothing much happened."

I took another bite as I looked up at Chris with curious eyes.

"By the way, where have... you been sleeping all this time?"

A part of me had already theorized a potential answer to that question, but instantly dismissed it away, thinking it was too crazy to even take into consideration.

"On the couch in the living room." He replied casually.

"Chris!" I let out with an exaggerated yet light gasp as I put my fork down. "The couch? You wanna lecture me about my sleeping habits when you're spending your nights on the couch?"

I saw his expression shift into a more serious one as he slowly stopped eating too.

"Don't start."

I was obviously joking around, purposefully making a big deal out of something which was not important, toying with him just a little.

"I know you've got sleeping problems, Chris, and spending seven nights on a couch is not gonna make things better. Why didn't you take the bed?"

"Because you matter more!" Chris suddenly exclaimed as he slammed his fist on the counter, making me jump in surprise. "You were the one who needed a proper bed, it didn't matter where I'd sleep, as long as you were safe... Goddammit, [Y/N], I was worried sick about you."

He did not shout, but his voice was loud enough to make me hold my breath. I looked down, not knowing what to reply, before grabbing my plate by the edge and standing up from my chair.

"I'll go warm up my plate in the microwave, it's gone cold." I spoke in a very low tone.

But as soon as my feet touched the ground, I limped and lost balance, barely managing to put my plate back down on the counter before almost letting it fall and break.

"Shit—"

Chris immediately stood up from his chair and hurried toward me to grab me, holding me tight by the arms and waist, making sure I was stable and would not fall.

"It's ok— I got you—"

The tone in his voice had softened dramatically as his first instinct was to reassure me. And it worked just as intended: the second I heard his words of comfort, I felt warm and secure, draped in a blanket of tenderness. He led me to the couch and helped me stabilize myself with each step I took, all while holding me close. His hands against my skin, strong but delicate sent shivers down my spine, and somehow made my limbs even weaker.

"Are you all right?"

"Y-Yeah, don't worry." I managed to articulate. "I think it's just my body reacting to receiving food after such a long time without it... I may have eaten more than my stomach can hold."

Chris held his gaze on me with a concerned expression.

"... Are you sure it's not because you were too active when making lunch?"

Before leaving me time to consider this factor, he bit his lower lip lightly and diverted his eyes from mine.

"God, I knew it was a bad idea..."

I placed a shy hand on his torso, which made him turn back to me; I smiled at him warmly, making him understand without a single word that he needed not to feel guilty, and he replied with saddened eyes and a small nod. Having reached the couch, he set me down gently, and we sat similarly to before, only this time I did not push him away: as he held me, I let myself lean against him, until being entirely wrapped in his arms. I heard him take a deep breath in as I rested my head on his chest, calming down to the sound of his speeding heartbeat.

"I've missed you." I spoke up in a warm and emotional voice.

I felt Chris tighten his hold on me just a little as I talked.

"I'm sorry I exploded at you." He said, almost in a whisper.

"No, it's fine. It's my fault for joking around at such an inappropriate time. I can't imagine how much stress you've been under because of me over the past week."

Another silence reigned, during which the two of us cherished that special moment.

"I've missed you too."

He gently stroked the top of my head while I heard him inhale deeply once again.

"And I want you to know that I worry about you, [Y/N], because I love you."

I could not help but hold tighter onto his shirt, feeling my breath sharpen.

"It... may not be anything new to you... I've been told by a few of the guys I'm kinda obvious..." He spoke shyly, clearly embarrassed.

Nevertheless, despite his awkwardness, he kept on keeping me close to him with a love that expressed confidence.

"But, frankly, I never cared much whether you noticed or not, all I ever wanted you to know was that I'd be here for you, by your side and keeping you safe no matter what."

As much as my heart was melting, as much as I wanted to bury myself deeper into his chest, I gathered the strength to pull away and look up at him. His eyes met mine in a moment of weakness, before I felt a blush forming on my cheeks and promptly looked away.

"You know, I never noticed..." I confessed. "Not once did I consider you could feel attraction for me, it felt... surreal, to me."

I looked up into his eyes again to find a loving warmth in them.

"Because... I love you too, and my mind was unable to convince itself that you'd ever reciprocate my feelings..."

As I lowered my eyes back down, Chris raised my chin up with two of his fingers, an ounce of a smile on his face.

"Well, your mind was wrong."

I smiled shyly, feeling his contagious grin spreading to me. My chin still held by his thumb and index, it however progressively vanished, an intense expression of passion taking shape on his face instead. In silence, he moved his hand to my cheek, caressing the surface of my skin delicately with his thumb. He leaned his face closer to mine and grasped the side of my waist as our lips touched, embracing each other lovingly.

I was instantly filled with warmth and tenderness, although the kiss itself was quite rough, Chris' beard scratching my skin; his lips, slightly rugged, hugged mine perfectly as if they had only been made for each other. We barely had time to pull away from our first kiss that we both asked for more, his hand bringing my face close to his again. With each kiss, I felt my soul lift up, and my body liquefy further with each touch Chris gave me.

Once we both pulled away, I snuggled against his chest once more, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

"I can't believe this is real..." I said, my voice muffled.

He chuckled in an incredibly endearing way as he lay more comfortably on the couch, allowing me to stretch myself further against him.

"You sure I'm not sleeping anymore?"

Chris lifted my head with both of his hands, holding the sides of my face tenderly.

"You're not." He said with a smile.

His eyes sparkled with a burning love I could not help but feel too, in the very core of my being.

"But even if you were, I'd make sure to give it all to you again once you'd wake up."

[sheepsfluff]

A Fat Outing

mlm weight gain pov story. no actual feeding but a devilish saga of near-immobile struggles. CWs for dubious consent, light slob and gas, public humiliation

You're sleeping off your lunch on the couch when you're awakened by a jingling sound. Your eyes open gradually to see your boyfriend standing before you, holding his car keys out in front of him the same way he'd usually offer you your latest sweet snack.

"It's the end of the month, big guy, and you know what that means~" He says slyly. You groan, and not just because of the feeling of the heavy meal still making its way through your stomach.

Your "outing" days have been a tradition between the two of you ever since you lost your job and began dedicating your time almost exclusively to sitting around the house and eating. You've become essentially a hermit, and probably wouldn't go outside at all if your boyfriend/feeder would allow it, but he gets too much satisfaction out of seeing you struggle to do things you're way too large for (especially with strangers looking on disapprovingly at your unreasonable size). At one point the outings had been once a week, but eventually you'd asked for them to be reduced to once a month due to the amount of effort it had started to require. Your boyfriend was happy to comply, excited by how close he'd come to making you unable to leave the house.

Sometimes he would let you pick the location, like last month when you visited your favorite buffet and didn't leave until you were stuck in one of their booths, requiring the help of three employees to get you out. Today is not one of those times, though, and instead you're going to one of your least favorite locations: the supermarket.

You've already started to sweat just thinking about trying to stand up. "I think I might finally be too fat...you have to go on without me..." You say dramatically.

"Don't be like that. If you can still walk your fat ass to the fridge, you can make it to the car." You let out a burp as they say this, evidence of your binging in the kitchen just a little while before.

"Now, come on big guy." He says, and he hold out his arms like a hopeful parent waiting for their child to take its first steps.

You let out a groan which ends in another burp. This is always the first hard part of outing days; trying to get up on your own. He knows you can't actually do it, at least not without tiring yourself out to the point of collapse, but watching you try gives him a feeling of satisfaction presumably as immense as your huge belly.

You begin the work of shuffling yourself forward on the bowed couch, which has forever been changed by the weight of your ass. Then you begin the rocking, gaining more and more momentum, and you swear you feel your belly brush the carpet a couple times.

You lift yourself a few inches off the couch once...twice...three times, and then give up. "Help me," You huff, wiggling your sausage fingers up at him.

He grins, grasps as much as he can of your round palms, and pulls you up. You both grunt in effort, and finally you are standing on your own fat feet. A pair of overstressed house slippers are the only thing in your wardrobe that'll fit them at this point. You're also wearing some of the only clothes that still "fit" you, a tentlike pair of sweatpants cradling your fupa and a tshirt from which your belly dangles by a few inches.

Your boyfriend supports you across the room to the front door and eases you through it, sideways of course. You feel your belly button brush the side of the doorway and suck in as though that's going to help at all.

Then comes the long trek down to the driveway--luckily there aren't many people driving by, although one neighbor across the street is watching from his front porch. You wonder if he's going to go inside and tell his family how he caught a glimpse of the morbidly fat man who lives across the street.

Finally you make it to the car, already feeling the sweat soaking between your folds. Your boyfriend's car is rather small, and you're actually too large to safely sit in the front even with the seat pushed as far back as possible. So instead, your boyfriend pushes the seats forward and helps you shuffle your bulk sideways into the backseat, where you fill two of the seats and part of the third.

The drive over to the store gives you some time to recover from the walk to the car, although its vibrations do irritate the meal digesting inside you. This is also worsened by the nervousness you feel knowing you'll have to go inside the supermarket and shop in front of strangers. You put your pudgy hands on the expanse of your giant stomach to try to lessen its furious jiggling.

Before you know it, you've pulled into the supermarket. At this point your feeder is kind enough not to force you to walk all the way across the parking lot, an activity which would definitely exhaust your energy for the day, if not the week. Instead the leave you in the car to go grab one of the motorized scooters from the front of the store and wheel it back to you.

You used to hate the fact that you needed a scooter in the store, but now after just a little walking the sight of it is a relief. Getting you out of the car and onto the scooter is about twice as hard as getting you off the couch because of the cramped space, and at one point you accidentally catch the eye of a disgusted bystander and get so overheated you have to stop to take a break. But finally, after the struggle, you are on the bike. You just try to ignore the fact that you can feel your belly pushing into the front console considerably more than the last time you were here, making the controls a lot harder to access.

Finally you are now able to wheel up to the supermarket alongside your boyfriend with relative ease. He grabs a cart from the front and things seem to be going pretty well, until you hear snickering. You turn your neck as far as it'll go to see a group of middle-schoolers casting barely-hidden glances at you as they point and laugh. Before you get out of sight, one of them makes a loud MOO-ing sound. You can tell by your boyfriend's expression that he definitely heard them and is trying his best to suppress his excitement.

You go through the aisles with him with relative normalcy after that, occasionally having to squeeze single-file past some disapproving onlookers. You're thinking you might be in the clear when you finally hear the words you've been dreading;

"Let's split up." Your boyfriend says.

"Please, not this time." You whine, but he's clearly adamant.

"You go to the chip aisle, and be sure to get your favorites. I just have to run to the freezer section real quick." He says with a knowing smile before planting a kiss on one of your chin rolls and speedwalking away.

You're only two aisles from the chips, so wheeling over there isn't too hard, but there's a problem. Your favorite chips are on the very top shelf, and if you don't get them you know your boyfriend won't stop at just asking why.

At your full normal height you'd have no problem getting the chips, but sitting down they are way out of the reach of your pudgy arms, which look especially shortened due to how sunken they are into your body.

Furtively you glance around to make sure there's no one in the aisle watching, and then you start to reach for the chips. The massive wings of fat on your upper arms jiggle furiously, but you're no closer to your goal. You shuffle a little and make a weak attempt to stand, succeeding only in bringing yourself a few short inches closer to your destination. When you land back on the scooter, it makes a threatening creaking noise which you try and ignore.

You look around the aisle again, this time to see if there's anyone around who'll help you out, willing to sacrifice your dignity not to work up a sweat at this point. Still, there's no one.

Finally, you decide to try the risky maneuver of getting yourself off the scooter and standing. Just like on the couch at home, you begin to try and swing your weight into a position, rocking the scooter underneath you in the process. Once you think you've built up sufficient momentum, you try to stand.

Instead of succeeding, you feel the weight of the scooter falter underneath you, tipping your giant form off of the seat and onto the floor. You land directly on your massive stomach, which cushions your fall, but you're too stuck to move from the position. As the cherry on top of the humiliation, the pressure on your still-digesting stomach causes your ass to let out one long, loud fart.

While there wasn't anyone around before, you've definitely drawn people's attention now. As you languish on top of your own overstuffed tummy like a giant struggling insect, a small crowd forms on either end of the aisle. The bystanders look on in discomfort, talking among themselves. They seem either unsure as to how exactly to help you, or too disgusted to try. You could swear you hear one of them say something about not knowing if you're a man or a woman based on the size of your tits and ass.

You keep attempting to get yourself up, but your arms and legs can only barely brush the ground. You're aware that your face is turning bright red with both embarrassment and effort. Your stomach is hugely uncomfortable with the weight of the rest of you on top of it, and the pressure of the floor pushes your limbs out at an angle and squishes your moobs up against your chins. You can also feel a slight breeze on the upper part of your ass, and you know that your ill-fitting pants have caused at least half of your crack to become exposed.

You imagine being one of the people standing on either end of the aisle, someone who's probably never seen someone this fat before, coming upon such a huge immobile pile of a man in the middle of a regular shopping trip. You wish you could sink down into your own chins and disappear.

Finally, your boyfriend emerges from one end of the aisle. When he sees you beached on the ground like the whale you are, he's unable suppress a smile. He comes towards you easily and bends down towards your face near the ground.

"Please, don't even say anything." You insist, but he still brings his face down to yours and says for only you to hear; "I heard you fart from across the store." Your face somehow turns even redder than before.

With that, he stands and casts an annoyed look towards the crowd around you, which has already begun to disperse. He flips you onto your side, a movement which causes you to groan and then fart again. At this point you're beyond embarrassment, focused only on getting out of the store and back to your couch at home.

Your boyfriend then maneuvers you into a sitting posting before grabbing your hands and finally lifting you up off the ground. As you bend to stand up you're reminded that half your ass is still exposed by your pants. At the same time, you realize with annoyance that the middle schoolers from earlier are coming down the aisle.

In one brief innocent movement, your boyfriend takes the hand that's not currently supporting your weight and puts a slight pressure on your belly, causing you to fart right as the teens are walking by. One of them reaches to cover his nose and shout "EWWW", and the rest of the group follows suit.

"I love you, my huge gasbag." He whispers to you after they've left the aisle. "Just get me out of here." You respond.

He corrects the motor scooter and lowers you back onto it. Thankfully it powers on, but your boyfriend still makes you sit and wait for him to go retrieve the cart he abandoned to come help you. He also insists that you come with him while he checks out, knowing you cant get back into the car without him.

You can only barely fit in the normal checkout line so you go through the self-serve checkout. You swear you see some people who witnessed your debacle in the chip aisle glancing at you as you wait. You stare at the ceiling, wishing to be outside.

Eventually you get your wish. The car is weighed down by both you and the groceries, and the scooter has been returned to its corral. After getting back into the car, your boyfriend sits in silence for a moment instead of starting it. Then he turns to look at you, his expression unusual somber.

"I...think this needs to be our last outing."

You take a beat to process. "...What?"

"As much as I love seeing you struggle, I don't want to see you *hurt*, babe." He reaches out and pats your belly comfortingly, and then adds; "Plus, you almost broke that scooter, which I would have to pay for..."

You groan, feeling conflicted. On one (football-esque) hand, staying at home is what you've been asking for this whole time. On the other, this wouldn't technically be a choice; you'd just be accepting that you're *literally too fat* to leave the house. As you contemplate this, your belly interrupts with a loud rumble. All the activity and gas you released in the supermarket has freed up a lot of space, and you realize you're basically starving.

"Whatever you say, babe, just please take me to get something to eat."

[nevloveslemons]

Falling For the Saint (Clive Babineaux x Reader Insert)

Tags?: AFAB Reader, Clutzy reader, Season 1-2 ish, reader type to try and quietly eat at 4 am and end up accidentally walking up everyone, Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, I’m giving you a name a personality, Pink haired insert (dyed,) ummmmmm I dunno let’s feel the vibe. probably many police precinct inaccuracies.

Today was going abnormally slow today, like usual. From the moment Clive hit his snooze button at 5, he decided today was going to be low key. Today somehow drained him, thinking about what whacky personality trait ‘Liv’s going to have today from trying to bring up the missing kids to his Lieutenant, from deciding what stale donut he’ll snack on for ‘lunch’ because he forgot his homemade packed lunch in the fridge somehow. (He even sat on the couch for 5 minutes just sitting.)

after getting ready and getting his holy grail; black coffee (he hate’s the stereotype of cops; donuts, plain coffee because they can’t afford the time, stiff posture, proper, despite showing many of them.) He walked into the precinct, unconsciously checking to see if everything’s under control and calm, which it was not.

In the bullpen he noticed an abundance of his fellow detectives here ON time with is unusual as his superiors aren’t as strict as they should be when it comes to being on time. He passed through the gate and saw his co-workers surrounding someone. You. He pauses, he’s never seen someone so… colourful?

You’re clad in a cat-red, maxi skirt with matching coloured beret and pumps. You had a black and white pocadot blouse with small-medium, poofy sleeves. Even your makeup was bold, bold but colourful, his mind actually went to Marilyn Monroe. Your lips were glossy and red, blush a cool rouge, your cat eyeliner and eye makeup drew him in, kin to the characters he had a crush on as a child in animation movies.

He realized after analyzing your outfit he was being creepy. He quickly snapped his head away from your being and started towards his desk. “Clive! Clive!” One of his co-workers grabbed his jacket with their fingers. He was surprised but held his strong expression, instead letting an exasperated looking face whilst raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “Have you met Beth?” They asked with excitement clear in their tone.

“Uh, no considering I just walked through the gates.” He answered. His tone coming out bored and annoyed, he was a tad annoyed; yes, but it was mainly just his tone/being. He wasn’t trying to sound like this. “We’ll turn your frown upside down” he couldn’t resist, he rolled his eyes. “She’s so bright honestly! A bit of a clutz; I moved in everyones mugs away from the edge of their desks, but she just got transferred from the 99th precinct!” They then pull him to the box of muffins that caught his attention. (other than you lol, if i got to- man now I want a Timmies blueberry muffin :()

“Beth brought these in as a like ‘token of appreciation?’ If we cops were doing that pretty sure we’re supposed to but, eh?”

Pumpkin-Walnut. Acquired.

After his brunch muffin he did a bit of paper work, some back and forth between his desk, the board, and the morgue and by time you know it. It’s lunch. Like stated, brunch muffin, Clive thinks it’s okay to make breakfast count as lunch (8-10 bfast 11-1 lunch, he had his muffin at 7 and hasn’t eaten since.) He was sitting at his desk, leaning his chin on his right hand whilst closing his eyes and not thinking… just, sitting? Then he could feel someone approach him so he eyed his eyes to see you. The Newbie.

“Hello, Detective Babineaux, I’m Elizabeth Johnson. I transferred here from the Nine-Nine and according to our Lieutenant, you’ve been put on my ‘babysitting?’” He looks at you whilst you explain your being there when he hears a rather loud, gurgle. His eyes go from yours to your stomach and back to yours, once he sees your face he notices how quickly you flushed.

“Ah, I apologize. I forgot my lunch at home and planned to have a muffin for lunch only to find them gone.” You let a small chuckle out and let your eyes wonder to anywhere but Clive’s eyes.

“I guess you and I are in the same boat, huh?” He says in hopes of settling some of your embarrassment.

“Oh! You forgot your lunch too?” Your eyes light up, seemingly forgetting about your former emotion. “Uh, yeah-“ He begins going on about what he had packed for lunch. You two talked the duration just about food. You’re not sure how, it went from your lunches and how you wish you had them to the containers their in to the spices and seasonings used. Clive doesn’t realize it but he started to smile when talking to you.

(First time writing on here…..)

[hiccanna-tidbits]

@jackunzel-time

Jackunzel Month Week 2 - Coming of Age

***

"Okay, can I look now?"

"Not yet!"

The kitchen is once again filled with the sounds of Rapunzel banging around, plates and dishware clattering as she searches the fridge. Jack's got a sneaking suspicion this all has something to do with the huge, tinfoil-covered mound on the top shelf.

For an entire week, Rapunzel insisted they put every ounce of leftovers in the bottom half of the fridge, ignoring the Mysterious Object™️like a leaky faucet you handn't gotten around to fixing. Not that Rapunzel doesn't occasionally need her home fridge for work-related things, but she isn't normally cagey about it.

Jack once again resists the urge to peek out of the blindfold.

"Come ooooon, Zellie! This anticipation is going to kill me before our starving artist lifestyle does."

Rapunzel laughs. "Starving? I'll have you know, sir, that I've had no less than 5 whole french fries today!"

Considering it was 9 pm, this was not an ideal french fry quota. Rapunzel definitely had time to eat more fries today.

Jack wonders idly if Rapunzel's just getting too caught up in her work to take lunch breaks, or if her manager is crunching her deadlines again.

Before he can get too far into plotting how he would swap her boss's salt and sugar without getting Rapunzel in trouble, he hears the distinctive sound of a lighter.

"Are you torching our apartment?" he asks. "Because if so, I'm very offended I wasn't invited to participate."

Rapunzel scoffs. "Don't be silly! Like I'd set the place on fire without getting home insurance first. And it isn't as though either of us can afford that."

"You're still making me nervous. Usually I'm the one who plays the pranks."

"Hmmm, well...that would have been a good idea, actually." Rapunzel sounds a little regretful. "But no tricks today, I promise. Now open your eyes!"

And at last, Jack gets to see what all the fuss is about.

A stunning, snow-white cake sits in the middle of their dining room table, covered in sparkly silver candy orbs and carefully sculpted fondant snowflakes. All around the side are little hand-painted winter scenes, meticulously crafted by an icing brush in a process that must've taken hours. On top, a "2" and a "6" candle sit ablaze.

Rapunzel, of course, spends all day at work decorating cakes. It's her career. (Or, at least, it has been for the past 6 months--the longest she's gone without leaving a job to date.)

It still seems like she went the extra mile with this one.

"What--" For a long moment, all Jack can do is stare with his mouth hanging open.

"What the hell," he says finally. "How did I forget today was my birthday???"

Rapunzel's surprise quickly turns to laughter.

"Oh my god, how did you forget?"

Easy for her to say. Back when Rapunzel lived with her crazy mom, who practically kept her a prisoner in her own house, birthdays were easily the most interesting thing that happened all year. Birthdays with the Overlands were always much more...lowkey, so to speak.

"In my defense!" He holds up his hands. "Nothing interesting happens when you turn 26. Pretty much all the milestones are finished, so it's just another orbit around the sun."

"Nonsense!" Rapunzel sticks her lip out in disapproval. "That's no way to talk about your coming-of-age ceremony!"

"Coming-of-age?" He raises his eyebrows. "I think we missed the cutoff for that a while ago."

"Well, 26 is your age now." She crosses her arms, chin up defiantly. "And you have come to it. So therefore you have come of age."

He chuckles. "Is that how that works?"

"Why not? Teenagers and college kids shouldn't get to have all the fun!"

"My point still stands, though," he argues. "You don't really...unlock the same kind of stuff in your 20s that you do when you're younger. It's not like there are new magical adventures that you suddenly have access to when the clock strikes 12 on your 26th birthday."

"Says who?"

His girlfriend's conniving smirk sends a wave of excitement through him. What is she plotting?

"Did you find an elite 26-and-over club to join?"

"Not exactly." She leans over the table, smirk widening. "But someone did have a chat with your boss about how many great snowscape photo opportunities there are in the mountains, and how you're going to need to not come into the office for while to get all the best shots."

Jack's eyes widen as her meaning dawns on him. "And Mr. North was cool with that? Me taking a vacation right before the holidays?"

"I mean. He could hardly resist the offer of having his best photographer out getting festive snapshots for the December issue of the magazine. You'd do more good on the field than stuck behind an editing desk, right?"

"No kidding."

Jack sits down, getting ready to blow out the unexpected birthday candles. He pauses, something occurring to him.

"Wait, what about you? I'm not about to go off and leave you to handle the bakery's holiday rush on your own!"

Rapunzel hums thoughtfully.

"Well, funny thing. I told our head baker that I just hadn't been feeling very inspired lately. And if I went somewhere, say, fresh and exciting, then the muse was sure to strike again and I'd pump out a collection of the most beautiful winter cakes the bakery's ever known. Ones to really send that holiday profit flooding in."

"So...you snuck around and got us both a week off for my birthday by spinning it as a work trip? And on top of that, you just casually whipped out the most gorgeous birthday cake I've ever seen in my life?"

She nods, beaming.

"You're my goddamn hero."

He stands up and sweeps her into his arms, pulling her into a kiss worthy of being the Big Dramatic Finale to any coming-of-age film. All these years later, and it still feels like cameras should be spinning around them with rock music building into a triumphant crescendo.

Maybe that's cheesy, but to hell with it.

"Have I ever mentioned I'm in love with you?" he murmurs against her lips.

"I would hope so, Overland. We've been dating for 9 years now."

***

Half a hazelnut chocolate cake and two celebratory hot cocoas later, Jack finds himself being dragged toward the car in the encroaching darkness of 5:30 pm.

"Zel, what--"

"Come on! I booked us a night in a cabin, and we need to take off before the roads get icy. It's supposed to snow in a couple hours!"

"But what about--"

"I packed the car while you were at work." Rapunzel doesn't miss a beat. "Don't worry, I grabbed all your favorite sweaters! Your snowboarding stuff too. And the sleeping bags. And the cozy socks. And the snow chains. And the binoculars. And the sled. And the scarves."

He doesn't have time to form a reply before he's being bundled into the front seat and covered in one of his favorite fluffy blankets. The sheer amount of alpine field guides and brochures on the car floor make him do a double take.

"You have an itinerary?" he asks, surprised.

She hums uncertainly as she pulls out of the driveway.

"Well...nothing too rigid. No coming-of-age road trip of self-discovery can be that structured, or else it might get in the way of spontaneous epiphanies about who you truly are, right?"

"Right."

Rapunzel looks like she's about to burst open with what she isn't saying.

"I sense a 'but' there."

"I did find a really cute place for us to sled." The dam breaks as Rapunzel pulls out of the driveway. "And there's this secluded little mountain animal rescue we have to see. And this four-star cafe we can stop at for hot cider and soup, and this really pretty snowy hike that I don't think is too tiring. Also this ski and snowboard slope we can check out if we have time, with this really cozy lodge, and--"

She cuts herself off mid-sentence as soon as she picks up that all this might be a little overwhelming.

"Buuuuut," she amends slowly. "It's not like I've put down a deposit for anything. We could just drive through the mountains and stop whenever we feel the urge. Find the best secret spots and have them to ourselves, you know? Have deep conversations and be alone with nature and reconnect with our humanity and our sense of purpose. Or something like that."

He can't help but laugh at the way her brow scrunches as she goes deep into thought.

"That sounds great."

"Do you...have a preference?" She gives him a searching look as they pull onto the freeway, already glowing with streetlamps and taillights. "Agenda or no agenda?"

"Whatever you're down for, I'm down for. Hell, I'm just happy to have an unexpected week of vacation."

"I guess that's the thing about these types of 'finding yourself' stories. You kind of have to figure them out as you go along."

"Then let's do some figuring!"

Rapunzel hits the gas, and off they go into the winter sunset, bound for their next coming-of-age adventure. One to perhaps be followed by many more, depending on how many future ages they deem it significant to "come to."

***

Tfw you keep aging but The Blorbos™️do not, so the only logical solution is to force them to age with you XD God dammit, if I have to be in my mid-20s, then so do my comfort characters!!!

Fr tho, I often find myself wishing there were more aged-up AUs in the RotBTD fandom. Most fandom olds returning to (or who stayed in) the fandom aren't the teenagers we were when we first got into the big four anymore, so...why not let them grow up with us??? It's not like their canon ages are some sacred, set-in-stone thing that can't be changed since people do in fact get older as time passes ajdnlshbf

And like!!! Don't get me wrong, I love a well-done high school or college AU, and they can be a lot of fun!!! But I think as I've gotten older I wonder more about how the RotBTD kids would navigate adulthood, and how they would change/adapt and how they would stay the same throughout their lives.

Jackunzel I feel like would be one of those couples who would just be it for each other. Like they get together in late high school--probably junior or senior year--and everyone keeps waiting for the spark to die in college and for them to get stir-crazy (as people who get into committed relationships young often do) or bored of each other, and they just. Don't. MFs hit 30 and are still in the honeymoon phase with no sign of getting out XD

Rapunzel is so right here btw. Twenty-somethings DO deserve to have indie coming-of-age dramas made about them!!! Kids and teens and college students shouldn't get to have all the fun!!! Besides, there's plenty of growing/maturing still to do in young adulthood, so why stop writing stories about that just because the people in question are out of school??? Tbh I'm so tired of movies with adult protagonists being either fluffy (hetero) romcoms or a drama about Some Guy with a wife and kids like??? There are other types of adults besides straights in the dating pool and middle-aged people with tidy little nuclear families!!! I promise!!!

Guess I'll just have to write all those funky little RotBTD twenty-something AUs myself ajshdkuys

Shout-out to the RotBTD discord for giving me the idea of having Rapunzel be a cake decorator and Jack be a photographer! I sometimes struggle a bit with future career ideas for the RotBTD kids, but these fit really well :D Jack definitely seems like the kind of person who would like something freelance and loose-scheduled where he basically gets paid to capture the beauty in the world around him :O And we know Rapunzel can bake, and she likes art, so...

CAKE ART CAKE ART CAKE ART CAKE ART

VERY happy I found that snowflake-and-orb cake, because that definitely seems like something Jack would enjoy 🤍❄️ And now I kind of want to try it 👀👀👀I DO have to wonder how they did that little picture with the tree and the car :O

As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request!

[fluff-a-nutter]

TickleTober Prompt: Tickle Fight + Counting + Weak Spot

((Switch!Varian & Switch!Hugo. NSFW DNI))

Hugo wandered down to the kitchens after a morning of hard work in the labs to get something for lunch.

Varian was in a meeting with Rapunzel discussing new ways to upgrade the security around the kingdom, but he said he would try to join Hugo for lunch. For now, Hugo found himself alone in the expansive kitchens, save for a couple cooks wandering.

Shrugging, the ex-con popped open the fridge hoping to find some food. Sure enough, he found something— one single ham sandwich to be exact. He knew his boyfriend was probably planning on having it himself, but hey- finders keepers, right?

Just as Hugo had taken the plate out and settled down to eat, Varian entered the kitchen and caught him red handed. Hugo stared at him, mouth wide open mid-bite. Varian stared back, an irritated gleam in his eyes.

“Hugo. Is that mine?” The short alchemist asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Hugo placed the meal back on the plate and stood.

“Hey, you left it there with no note. I was here first, so it’s mine.”

“Is not! I made it for myself! Now give it here!” Varian demanded, holding out a hand.

“Nuh-uh! Finders keepers! You’ll have to fight me for it.” Hugo said, mimicking Varian’s previous pose.

Varian’s glare shifted into something else. Something more mischievous and cunning.

“Fine then. I’ll fight you for it.” He said, calmly approaching Hugo and backing him against the table. Hugo gulped nervously, looking around for an escape. Varian smirked at him.

“Why so nervous? You did challenge me to a fight and I never back down from a challenge, hunny.” Varian said, poking Hugo’s sides, causing him to flinch and suck in a breath.

“W-wahait, wait! Come on! Let’s talk about thihihihis!” Hugo crumpled to the ground in fits of giggles as Varian continued poking him all the way down.

“Sorry, gonna have to fight your way out of this.” Teased Varian, spidering his fingers along Hugo’s ribs, smirking as another idea came to him.

“Say, Hugo. How many ribs do you have?”

“Twehehelve! Twelve pairs!” Hugo giggled, trying to capture Varian’s wrists to no avail. Varian hummed like he was unconvinced.

“I dunno. I think I should count them just to be sure.”

Hugo squealed and wriggled around as Varian began counting.

“1, 2, 3~ Hugo, quit squirming so much, I lost count! Now I have to start all over!” Varian groaned, feigning frustration.

“Nohohoho! D-Dohohon’t start over!” Hugo pleaded through giggles, kicking lightly at the floor. Varian smirked at him and began counting again, going extra slow.

Hugo writhed and giggled hysterically, trying to bat Varian’s hands away.

“S-sohohohmewhere ehehehehelse! Plehehehease!” Hugo cackled when the rib tasers became almost unbearable. To his surprise Varian listened.

“Alright, how about your thighs then? Or perhaps some neck raspberries? I know you love that.” Varian teased, grinning when Hugo flushed crimson.

“N-no! Not that!” Hugo cried, a wobbly smile spreading on his face.

“You’re right! Both at once does sound amazing!” Varian declared, ignoring Hugo’s pleas before leaning down and blowing raspberries on Hugo’s neck while simultaneously reaching back and squeezing his thighs.

Hugo shrieked instantly starting to laugh loudly and brightly. Both of his worst spots being attacked at once was almost unbearable. Almost.

He was losing the strength to push Varian away, but then he remembered- this was supposed to be a fight. There was no reason why he shouldn’t fight back.

With that thought in mind, Hugo reached out his hand even though it left his entire right side exposed, which was a risk. Varian had briefly paused his raspberries, curious to what Hugo was doing. Through laughter, the blonde flashed Varian a smirk.

“Lehet’s see how you like it, Stripes.” He quickly turned the tables and grabbed his boyfriends side and squeezed, sending him toppling off him with a squeal.

With a triumphant cackle, Hugo climbed on top of Varian and straddled his hips.

“Wahahait! Hugo don’t! I’m way more ticklish than you!” Varian cried out, already giggling with anticipation.

Hugo laughed and rested his hands on his lovers sides.

“But this is a fight, so I’m fighting back now.” He declared before attacking Varian’s sides with scribbles, pokes, and squeezes. His heart melted at the bright giggles and snorts Varian was letting out.

“Huhuhuhugooooo! Quihuihuit!” Varian giggled, shoving weakly at Hugo’s hands, shrieking when Hugo rolled up his shirt. That only meant one thing.

Hugo smirked at him as he lowered his head.

“You attacked my worst spots, love. It’s only fair that I do the same thing to you.” He said before blowing raspberries on Varian’s tummy, earning some bright cackles and squeals.

“NAHAHAHAHAT FAHAHAHAHAIR!” Argued Varian through his laughter, trying to shove Hugo’s head away, which only resulted in Hugo’s hair adding to the already ticklish sensations.

“Uh, it’s totally fair!” Hugo replied.

“If I was being unfair, I would do this!” He declared, quickly scribbling his fingers up Varian’s sides and to his armpits while continuing the raspberries on his tummy.

Varian howled with laughter, squirming violently. Both of his weak spots were under attack and suddenly he knew what Hugo had meant.

“STOOOOAHAHAHAP!” Shrieked Varian, desperately trying to escape.

As a last resort he stretched out his hand and prodded clumsily at Hugo’s ribs again. It did the trick and sent the blonde rolling right off him. Varian smirked and scrambled up, planning to wreck Hugo some more when the lanky male held a hand up to stop him.

“Truce! Truhuce! Please, I think I’ll actually faint if you tickle me anymore!” Hugo said, catching his breath. Varian lowered his hands suspiciously, relaxing when Hugo stayed where he was.

“Okay, truce. You alright?” Hugo nodded and grinned at him sheepishly.

“When I challenged you to a fight, I was not expecting a tickle fight.” He confessed, rubbing his aching sides. Varian laughed and shook his head.

“We didn’t even declare a victor! Who gets the sandwich?” He asked, tilting his head.

Standing, Hugo took Varian’s hand to help him up.

“How about we split it and go halvsies on it?” He suggested. Varian smiled and kissed him.

“Perfect. I’ll get a knife.” Varian opened the cutlery drawer while Hugo noticed something.

“Hey, Goggles.” He tugged Varian’s sleeve gently to get his attention.

Varian turned back to face Hugo.

“What is it, babe?”

Hugo pointed to the table. Where Ruddiger, Varian’s raccoon was perched, his cheeks stuffed with ham sandwich. The critter was about to shove the last bite in his mouth when he noticed the boys glaring at him. He dove off the table and stuffed it in as Hugo lunged at him.

Varian saw it coming and quickly gripped Hugo’s sides making him yelp and fold in on himself.

“Bahabe! We had a truce!” He whined, clutching his sides protectively. Varian chuckled and pecked his lips.

“I know, but I didn’t want you to murder Ruddiger over a sandwich. I’ll make another one and we can share that one.” Hugo smiled.

“Okay deal. Just no more sneak attacks!” Laughing, Varian made a fresh ham sandwich and the two of them shared a nice lunch break. They may or may not have had another tickle fight as well.

˗ˏˋ꒰𖦹｡🧪⋆°✰꒱ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you like this oneshot! I had fun writing it! I can’t believe October is nearly over! Hopefully I’ll get a few more TickleTober stories out before then!

[oddlyded]

The thin line between jealousy and insecurity | Kylian Mbappe x reader

y/n didn’t know what had gotten her boyfriend so worked up. it took her some time to realise that getting with some (male) friends on his day off wasn’t something he was particularly happy about

You briefly watched as your boyfriend went about the room, not looking at you in the eye. Now while you’d normally be all up in his face asking him what has swiped off the relaxed smile he’d normally wear when he’s got a day off, you were busy furiously typing the details of the friendly get together you were late to. You were meeting your boys in 30 minutes and the restaurant you all agreed to have lunch at was going to be a 40 minutes ride judging by the awful traffic you were caught in while coming from university.

“I’ll be home by 10. Grand max, c’est promis. We might decide to watch a movie afterward, but I’ll keep you updated and I’ll let you know if there’s a change of plans.”

“Mmm,” was all he said. He was sat down on the bed, fixing an invisible point with a stare that sent chills to your bones.

You paused in the middle of putting on your shoes. “Are you alright?”

“Sure,” he mumbled, in a voice that clearly showed he wasn’t.

“Did something happen with training yesterday?”

“No.”

“— Well, did you have a fight with a teammate or something?”

He shook his head, still zoned out. You were starting to get annoyed at his vague responses, and you had no time to get answers out of him. Still, you wanted to make sure that everything was alright with him before taking off.

“Darling, are you sure you’re alright?’

He was still not meeting your eyes. With a slight smile your way, he nodded. Though very feebly. You narrowed your eyes at him, but another message popping up in the group chat distracted you from interrogating him further. After some back and forth between you and Omar that had you giggle, you raised your head to find Kylian finally looking at you with an odd expression plastered on his face, his teeth gritted in frustration.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way?”

You blinked at him. He’d already turned to his phone, clearly not interested in seeing you off. You wondered if it was the upcoming match that had him strained like that, since he usually got all worked up when he was particularly stressed. But thing is, you’ve never seen him like that — he was acting as if you had personally wounded him or something. Still, you opted to leave the house in a good mood, and with a slight huff you went to him and kissed the top of his head, gently stroking his cheek.

Surprise surprise! He actually leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. You casually asked him if he wanted something to eat now that you were going out, and his relaxed posture became tense once more.

“No, I’m good.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, snatching your hand away. “Right, there’s still leftovers from last night’s lasagna in the fridge if you change your mind.”

“Mmm.”

Again with the monosyllabic words. Right, off you went. But not before rolling your eyes and making your exasperation loudly known by raising your hands in the air.

The afternoon with your boy friends went well, though your mind frequently wandered to your boyfriend, thoughts of what had transpired to make him so moody becoming more confusing and dramatic as time progressed. It was making you on edge, and you worried for him. When it was finally time to get home, you stopped to buy his favourite pastries, hoping that now he’d be more open to talk about what’s going on if you showed up with a clear white flag.

You came home to find him sat when you last left him, eyes glued to the tv. The only greeting you received was a small hi, but as opposed to before you left he was now staring at you hotly, something dark glinting in his eyes.

“How was the evening?”

“Fine.”

“Mmmm.”

You glared at him. “Are you finally going to tell me what’s clouding your mind?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Right. Mind then explaining why you’ve been in a shit mood since breakfast?”

“I’m not!”

“Are too! You’re barely talking — barely even looking at me. You haven’t answered any of my messages, and don’t you dare make some dumb excuses about not having seen them, Kylian. You’ve been on your phone for the past five hours, I could see you online!”

“The past five hours where you’ve been god knows where!”

You frowned at him. “Is that it? Is that the reason behind the silent treatment?”

He opened and closed his mouth, opting to snuggle deeper into the bed and cross his arms. You sighed, running a hand on your face. You decided not to give into anger and went to move towards him, sitting down so close that he couldn’t ignore you no longer.

The silence stretched on and on, and you could tell that he was getting restless, but all you did was silently motion for him to speak up first. For a moment, it seemed as if he wouldn’t, as if he were content with having a staring battle where no one would discuss the issue glaring obviously at the both of you — with having no one give a voice to his worries. So unlike his usual self — he was always one to resolve things quickly. Frankly, you didn’t know why he was dragging this.

“It’s like you didn’t even care that we had a whole day to ourselves.”

That was certainly not where you thought the conversation was going, and you started feeling the first signs of indignation seeping in. “Of course I cared!”

“Well that wasn’t the impression I got,” he bit back, sourly. “I had a whole evening planned for us. I — I just —”

“Mon cœur,” you started softly, when he stopped dead in his tracks and opted to once more glower at the tv. The only reason why you didn’t start berating him was because he looked genuinely hurt, “it’s not like that, really. I didn’t know —”

“Clearly it mattered shit to you —”

“That’s not fair —”

“And you met with those boys and posted all those stories while I was waiting for you at home —”

“I am allowed to go out with friends!”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well then explain it to me —” You raised a hand when he opened his mouth to interrupt “— instead of attacking me. Kylian, my love, I didn’t know you had something in mind for us today. You know I’d have canceled otherwise. I wouldn’t even have entertained the whole thing to begin with! And I never get to see the boys — my friends — and so when they offered to take the train to Paris to see me I was delighted.”

“Yes, you showed how delighted you were alright.”

You scoffed at him. “Unbelievable.”

He tensed up when you got up. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you!”

He grabbed your wrist and had you pinned to his chest in the second it took you to turn from him. “You’re not leaving me again.”

“I am if you continue to act like an arse.”

He thinned his lips, staring up at you from where you were positioned on his chest. His eyes were very, very dark and there was something like desire brimming up on the surface. You decided to ignore how handsome he looked and stared back at him, unfazed.

“The blonde dude seemed awfully touchy.”

You blinked down at him. “You mean Zak?”

“The one with the blue sweater.”

You paused, incredulous. Yep, that’s Zak alright. “Darling, he’s gay.”

You saw him frown in confusion before relaxing. Somehow, this made you angrier. “He is?”

“Yes. And Omar is my eleven years old best friend. I sincerely doubt he’s interested in me like that — frankly, he seemed more into Zak.”

He was fighting off a smile, you could tell. You hit him, hard. “That’s not funny.”

But his relief was apparent, even when he scowled at you as he massaged his chest in mock hurt.

“Do you know the number of time I told you that?” You snapped at him. “And it doesn’t even matter. You’re supposed to trust me.”

“I trust you! Really, I do — it’s just —” he sighed, then sat upward. You were sitting on his lap now, and he angled your body so that your faces were mere itches away from each other. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Then you should’ve told me that, instead of ignoring me all morning.”

“I am sorry,” he admitted in a small voice, suddenly looking sheepish and, dare you say, timid. Whatever dark mood he’s been in seemed to break off when he realised just how angry you were at him. “But you were gushing about how happy you were to see them and — don’t look at me like that — I dunno, it got me in a mood. I know it’s stupid and I’m overreacting. I shouldn’t want the whole integrity of your attention. Sometimes I do though and I feel like I haven’t had some quality time with you since forever. It’s just felt like you didn’t really consider that.”

“So what was your plan exactly? Because ignoring me and being snappy all day is not the way to get the quality time you so ‘wanted’.”

He flinched. There was a sudden dawning realisation on his face of just how snappish he’d been. He cleared his throat before croaking out an apologetic “I’m sorry.”

He paused for a moment, studying you. Hesitantly, as if he were afraid that you’d get more annoyed with him if he touched you, he slowly raised a hand to cup your face. When you didn’t move away he patted his way through your face, his hands finally settling on your waist.

“I should’ve said something, I know. I just saw them cozying up to you and I lost it, and it felt too childish to bring it up so I decided to just get on with it. Will you forgive me?”

“If you promise to always tell me what’s going on in your mind — no matter how childish it may seem to you. It’s not to me, I promise. I would’ve brought you along had I known.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I wanted you to rest and I thought that was your plan as well. You’ve been training restlessly for the past three weeks with no days off, Ky. You are allowed to laze around all day in your pyjamas without having a care in the world.”

He nodded, snuggling up to your chest, lightly kissing your collarbone. His hands on your waist were getting suggestive, protective, harsh against your revealed skin. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way he slid his fingers under your top, and he looked up at you sheepishly. You almost laughed at the expression on his face — he was suddenly so lost in your eyes, he who couldn’t meet them a few hours ago — but you managed to remain serious in order to get your point across.

“And I value our time together the most, darling. I do. You know I do. I love you. So much. I always think of you. Always.”

His reaction was immediate. You two weren’t in the habit of saying those magical three words, opting instead to let your actions speak volumes of the feelings and care you had for each other, and so it always made the moments they were uttered in so intimate.

Red colored his cheeks – whatever he thought you were going to say, he was definitely not expecting that. His hands froze in their quests of sliding down your tights and he brought one back to gently caress your hair, the other one making its way to your waist and bringing you even closer to him. You had to wrap your arms around his neck to make room for yourself.

“I know. Of course I know. I’m sorry, I am. I should’ve communicated better. It’s just that I love you so much that sometimes it scares me just how worked up I get over little things like this. How much I miss you and how much you haunt my every thoughts. I like to seem self-assured so that you can come to me for anything —”

“I can. I do. You being jealous doesn’t make you any less the man I would go to to talk about my problems. But I want the same treatment in return. I want you to come to me if you feel insecure, if there’s something affecting you — especially when it comes to me. I’d never make you feel like it’s dumb.”

“I know. But it was dumb. I was dumb.” In a blink of the eye he had you against your back, trailing kisses along your jaw, with you stifling a surprised gasp. “I’ve been thinking of all the things I’d do to you, it was driving me mad. And I was getting so angry, knowing I let you slip earlier without showing you just how much I’ve missed you. I can be such an idiot. I know I’ve said it a couple of times already but I’m sorry, my love.”

“I forgive you, but I’m definitely eating the pastries I got you,” you said, and he chuckled against your neck. You let yourself smile. There was still so much you two had to talk about, but right now, snuggled against him, there was only one thing on your mind. “You still got time to show me just how much you’ve been missing me, though.”

He smiled — that carefree, wide smile you loved so much, tinged with a cockiness you secretly found absolutely attractive — and kissed you, hard.

-

also, open to requests y’all :))

[runningmunson]

Eddie’s S/O taking care of him | Headcanon

● Eddie can take care of himself, he’s been doing it for years. Yes, Wayne helps but he works a lot so Eddie is home alone most of the time.

He is messy, unorganized, chaotic, follows no schedule, just goes with the flow.

Eddie is the kind of person who is so caught up in the things that he loves that he often forgets to do basic life necessities like eating, going to bed at a decent time, laundry.

That was before he started dating you.

● It started off small at first, you noticed that he didn’t eat school lunch and never really brought anything more than trail mix so you took it upon yourself to pack an extra sandwich for him.

Later on in your relationship when you began to spend more time at his trailer you realized they hardly ever had real food in the fridge.

○ “Eddie, when was the last time you had a home cooked meal?”

○ “Does frozen lasagna count?”

○ “No, Eddie. That definitely doesn’t count.”

From then on you always made sure Eddie had a home cooked meal, whether it would be at his trailer or your home. You even made sure to make extras for Wayne.

On mornings after you stayed the night you would quietly slip out of Eddie’s grasp and make breakfast before work, leaving a plate for Eddie and Wayne on the table usually with a note that said “have a great day!”

You sometimes have to literally feed him when he gets caught up with learning a new song on the guitar or creating another campaign.

Most of the time he has a guitar or pencil in his hand, you sitting next to him making him open his mouth to feed him because that boy didn’t need to get any skinnier (but something about you feeding him kinda turned him on).

● Eddie usually had a pile of dirty clothes in his room that he only washed when he absolutely needed to (and you bet he smell checked clothes to make sure they were okay to wear again).

You made it a habit to wash and fold his clothes when he was at hellfire club, bedding was included in this.

They once had a sale on bed sheets so you bought Eddie a new set (throwing out his old stained ones), let’s just say Eddie loved christening the new sheets with you.

● Eddie would stay up all night if it wasn’t for you.

You’ve always been pretty regular about your bedtime, you went to sleep at 10:30 every night and always felt well rested the next morning.

The soft light of his lamp and the sound of crinkling paper used to wake you up most nights.

○ “Eddie, come to bed.”

○ “Not yet, sweetheart.”

○ “It’s 3AM and you have school tomorrow.”

○ “I’m trying to finish this new campaign for Friday.”

○ “Edward Munson, don’t make me say it again. Get your ass in bed now.”

○ “Christ, fine! You’re so bossy.”

Eddie liked to pretend that he was annoyed by this but he loved nothing more than your inviting embrace waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally got in bed and to wake up the next morning still in each other’s arms.

● If Eddie had a long shift at the mechanics shop you bet there was a warm meal on the table, clean clothes and towels waiting in the bathroom, his favorite movie rented, and you excited to greet him. It was his favorite sight and he didn’t think he could love you more.

Some days he was so exhausted he would immediately throw himself on his bed. You were right there to take his shoes off, help him undress, usher him in the bathtub, and wash his hair for him. He had some of his favorite conversations with you during these moments.

● It’s not that Eddie couldn’t do all of these things himself, but you just genuinely loved taking care of him and doing all of this for him. He had to take care of everything from such a young age because of his parents. You unfortunately couldn’t take that away but you could control how it would be moving forward. Eddie deserved the world and you sure as hell were going to give it to him.