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#I’m screaming I forgot there was an update yesterday
inomatsu · 1 year
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Seth in a ponytail. Seth in a ponytail. SETH IN A PONYTAIL. Okay I can die now
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chelseachilly · 10 months
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THIS LOVE - chapter four | you can hear it in the silence
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pairing: ben chilwell x reader
rating: T
word count: 2.2k
summary: you try to keep your distance from ben after italy, but after a terrible day, there's no one else you'd rather be with. i wonder why that is...
A/N: sorry it took longer than usual to update guys, it's been a very busy week for me! this one's a bit short as well but the next will be longer. i'm so happy the prem is back and we're getting so much good ben content though, the chelsea media team is keeping us well fed (and inspired one line of this chapter lol). title is from you are in love by taylor swift 🙈
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Your plan when you got back to London seemed almost foolproof at the time.
You picked up a bunch of shifts at work, more than you would ever normally take on in one week. If you’re constantly working, then that gives you 1) an excuse not to attend any more events with Ben and 2) a good distraction from the developing feelings you’re experiencing for him.
The facts are simple.
He is your best friend in the world. He most certainly doesn’t return whatever weird feelings you’re having. Nothing is going to happen.
You’re sure it’s just a weird side-effect of this fake dating you’ve been doing, but that’s just playing pretend. 
Seeing him return to his usual ways - that perhaps he never left - of sleeping with beautiful models, firmly planted you back in the real world. 
And there’s nothing that can help you snap out of your fantasy life than a double shift in an East London emergency department. 
By the end of the week, you’re burnt out, exhausted, and you’re coming off what might be the worst shift you’ve ever had. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong, and it takes all your energy just to make it home on the tube and get yourself up the stairs to your flat afterward.
You don’t know whether you want to cry, scream, sleep, eat, or something else entirely when you finally make it to your couch and collapse into it. 
Some time passes - you’re not sure if it’s minutes or hours - without you moving a muscle, your face buried in a pillow as you try to forget about your nightmare day. You’re snapped out of it when there’s a knock on your door. 
You’re not expecting anyone, but you reluctantly force yourself off the couch and trudge your way over to open it. 
And there stands Ben, who you haven’t seen or really spoken to except a few texts in a week and a half. Perfect.
“Ben, what are you doing here?” 
You’re aware it’s not the most polite greeting, but you don’t really have much more than that in you. 
“Are you alright?” Ben asks as soon as he has a moment to take you in, his eyes scanning your face. “You didn’t answer my call yesterday or my texts this morning, I was worried.”
Although you missed the texts because your phone was off at work and haven’t had the energy to check your messages since, you did dodge his call. 
“I’m fine, I just had a long day at work and I-“ You pause as it dawns on you what day it is, as well as the fact that Ben is dressed a bit more smartly than usual, in black trousers and a nice leather jacket. “Oh, shit. The Nike thing. I completely forgot.”
You had agreed weeks ago to attend a big flashy party for Nike as Ben’s date tonight, but as you focused all your energy on work this week it completely slipped your mind. 
“I’m sorry, just give me a few minutes to get changed and I’ll-“
“Hey, hey,” Ben says softly, stepping into your flat and closing the door behind him. “Forget about the party, is something wrong?”
You shake your head. “I just had a rough day at work.”
Ben nods, gesturing for you to go on, and something about the sincere worry in his eyes makes it impossible for you to remain closed off from him.
“We were really understaffed, and it was just one thing after another and then I lost a patient and I just-“ 
You cut yourself off as you feel that you’re about to cry, the sheer weight of your awful day and week catching up with you, but Ben can see it in the way your lip is trembling slightly and you’re avoiding eye contact with him.
“It’s alright, come here,” he says, stepping closer and pulling you into his arms before you can insist that you don’t need to be comforted. You definitely do, and there’s no better comfort on earth than Ben’s hugs. 
He holds you close against him, letting you hide your face in his chest, and you can’t resist letting out a few sobs now that he’s opened the emotional floodgates. 
“Shh, you’re okay,” Ben says so softly that it almost makes you cry harder. “I’ve got you.”
Slowly, and never breaking contact, Ben shuffles you both backward until the back of your legs hits the couch and eases you both into a seated position. He pulls you even closer so your legs are draped over his lap and your face rests in the crook of his neck, his hands slowly rubbing your back as your sobs taper off into quiet whimpers.
You can feel everything bad and stressful about today slowly leave your body with every soothing murmur and stroke of Ben’s warm hand against your back. 
He’s like an instant cure for everything wrong with the world, and it occurs to you that a big part of your terrible mood is probably the result of not seeing him for longer than usual. 
Now that you’re back in his presence, in the strong arms that have held you when you were eight and you scraped your knee falling off a bike and when you were sixteen and a boy broke your heart for the first time, you never want to leave. 
You’re no longer crying when you finally find the strength to pull away from him and look him in the eye. 
Ben releases you but keeps his hands firmly on your arms as he examines your face with worried eyes and a creased brow. 
“Are you alright?” he asks barely above a whisper. 
You nod, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Sorry, I guess this week was just a bit overwhelming.”
“You’ve been working a lot lately, yeah?”
“Yeah, well, have to pay the bills,” you shrug, as if that’s the only reason you’ve been drowning yourself in shifts on purpose. 
You do regret the comment slightly as Ben’s mouth opens and you know what he’s going to say before he even says it. 
“Y/N, if you ever need money, you know-“
“Ben,” you interrupt. “I don’t need money, I’m fine. It was just a stressful week, but I’ve got a few days off now.”
You’ve had this dispute before, with Ben freaking out whenever you seem overworked and insisting on covering some of your expenses. You never take him up on it, obviously. You do mostly love your job and helping people, and Ben knows that. He just worries about you. 
“Alright, fine,” Ben accepts. “Now why don’t we order some food and pick something to watch?”
You blink at him in confusion. “What? What about the Nike thing?”
Ben shrugs. “I’ll skip it. No big deal.”
“Ben-“
“Y/N, you had a shit day, you’re not going to some dumb party, and I’m not leaving you alone.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s his job to take care of you when you’re sad. Like he’s more than just your friend.
You can’t help but smile at his sincere expression, and how he’s gently rubbing your calf that’s still draped over his lap, as if you touch each other like this in private all the time. 
“I thought you said it would be a fun party?” you raise an eyebrow. “Or were you just trying to trick me into it?”
Ben laughs. “Well, it might be alright. A couple of the boys are gonna be there. But not as fun as watching a film with you.”
There it is again - that damn fluttering in your chest that is equal parts exciting and terrifying. 
Suddenly, doing anything with Ben sounds pretty good. Even a dumb party. 
“You know what, let’s go,” you say, wiping any remaining tears from your cheeks. “There’s no point in this whole fake dating thing if we don’t commit, right?”
“Are you sure?” Ben asks, frowning a bit. “We really don’t have to.”
“I’m sure. Let me go get changed.”
You get ready fairly quickly, putting on your go-to little black dress and comfiest heels, because you did just work a 12-hour day. You make your hair look presentable and apply a bit of makeup.
It’s nothing special, but the look on Ben’s face when you walk out of your bedroom says otherwise. 
The stress of your day continues to fade away to nothing as you and Ben make your way over to the party. Ben drives as they have a match Sunday so he won’t be drinking anything, and he loudly sings along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio in a clear attempt to cheer you up. It’s definitely working.
The party is a cool, lively affair at the Nike HQ. There are loads of athletes there, some that you recognize from television and some that you know through Ben. 
As you navigate the party, chatting with some Nike execs and some of Ben’s past and present teammates, Ben maintains some kind of physical touch with you. His fingers intertwined with yours as you walk in; his arm around your waist as you talk to his mates; his hand rubbing gentle circles on your lower back as you order a drink. 
You don’t know if it’s the fact that this is an event hosted by one of his biggest sponsors and he wants to play up the “man in love” thing or if he’s still trying to comfort you, but you can’t help hoping it’s the latter. 
After a while, Ben is approached by someone from Nike asking if he can do a short interview for social media. 
“Your girlfriend is welcome to join too,” the woman says nicely, flashing you a smile.
“You don’t have to,” Ben whispers in your ear, but you just shrug. 
Normally you would shy away from any press, but maybe a part of you doesn’t mind being called his girlfriend tonight.
“I’ll do it,” you say with a small smile at the interviewer. 
Ben keeps his arm protectively around your waist as the interview begins, glancing at you from time to time to make sure you’re alright.
They ask him a few questions about football before diving into the personal stuff, which you know is juicer for social media. 
“So, Ben, we see you’ve brought your lovely girlfriend Y/N here tonight,” the interviewer says. “How does she keep you grounded during the hectic football season?”
You tense a bit as you wonder what Ben is going to say, or if he’s going to be able to come up with anything on the spot, but he barely takes a second to respond.
“She’s such a calming presence in my life, really,” Ben says, squeezing your waist slightly. “She’s a nurse, so her job is infinitely harder than mine, and she still supports me emotionally whenever I hit a low point with my career. She’s…just the best person I know.”
Your heart is beating so wildly that you’re worried Ben is going to be able to tell, but you don’t have much time to stop being flustered before she’s directing a question at you.
“Y/N, I’ve heard that you two have known each other for quite some time before your relationship began,” she says. “What’s your favourite thing about Ben?”
There are a million things that come to mind right away, most of which feel too personal to share. 
You love how he takes care of the people in his life without expecting anything in return. You love how he cries every time you watch Marley and Me together, even though he’s seen it a thousand times.  You love close he is with his family and how he calls his mum every Sunday night just to chat. 
You love…
“I love how positive he is,” you say after a moment when you realize it’s taking you too long to answer. “He’s overcome a lot of adversity in his career, but he always has a smile on his face and makes everyone around him feel better by being in his presence.”
While you try to keep your answer somewhat football-related, since this is a work function, it’s also completely true.
And when Ben looks at you with that same bright smile, you think he knows that.
“Well, it seems love is in the air at Nike HQ tonight,” the interviewer swoons. “I hope you both have a nice evening, and we wish you all the best this season, Ben.”
As she leaves you standing there alone with Ben, trying to process the weight of your feelings, he turns to smile at you and tightens his grip on your waist.
When you meet his gaze and your stomach churns, you know two things for certain.
The first is that you’re in love with your best friend. It’s absolutely terrifying, due in part to the fact that you think you may have been in love with him without realizing it for a long time, but there’s no disputing it anymore.
The second is that you’re going to have to end this fake relationship before someone gets hurt. 
You just hope it’s not too late.
a/n: let me know what you thought, predictions, etc!! love chatting with all of you and your comments/asks make my day! <3 tag list: @lunamelona @kathb59 @captainwans​ @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @cinderellawithashoe​ @batmansb1tch​ @ncentic​ @myheartgoesvroom @chillymountsjess @babygirlbenji @delicateearthquakellama @joyfullyswimmingface @xxenia14 @chaotic-taco-collector-blog (let me know if you would like to be added or if i missed you!)
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lilcatdraws · 5 months
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hey can i pls request ledger joker getting angry and possessive w reader for having a quick and meaningless interaction w one of his goons? thank u
Nobody Messes With My Girl
Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Violence, murder, just J things
Summary: One of J’s goons tries to make a move on you, he finds out, and things do not go well
Author’s Note: Hi anon! Oooh I like this idea! Sorry it took me so long to answer. I didn’t forget I promise. I hope I did this right. I’m not the greatest at writing a dark J. Also, I know you didn’t ask for a fem reader but I forgot to mention when I first started writing these that I write with a fem reader in mind. Two of my writings I left as a neutral reader but the rest I updated to fem. Anyways as always, enjoy!
Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie
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It was just a meaningless and actually somewhat weird conversation. Creepy men talked to you all the time. It was a sad fact of life. You thought nothing of it. But apparently J did. 
As you opened your apartment door, you walked inside and shut the door behind you. Just as you turned around, J was towering over you and he did not look happy.
“J? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 
Before you could continue, you were silenced by J’s hand clamped over your mouth and his other hand holding your throat.
“Think you can fool me? I’m not stupid, y/n!” 
By now you were in tears. You pushed him away. 
“What the hell are you talking about?” You shouted.
J rolled his eyes. “Oh don’t play dumb. I have eyes everywhere. I saw you flirting with one of my men.”
“What? Flirting? J, what are you talking about?” 
J just looked at you dumbfounded. Maybe you genuinely didn’t know.
“Earlier today when you went out for some errands, you passed one of my men who was keeping watch over this place. You were talking to him for a long time. I saw it on the security footage.” 
“Ohhhh. That guy. You thought I was flirting? Eww no! If anything he was flirting with me. He started talking first. It really made me uncomfortable. Honest.”  
J relaxed a bit. “Oh. Sorry bunny.” 
He kissed your cheek apologetically but you could still see the fiery anger in his dark eyes. He said nothing else about the encounter and you guessed the matter was over. Boy were you wrong.
The next day
It was late at night and J had not come home yet. You were sitting in the living room doing some online shopping on your computer. You nearly jumped out of your skin when J burst through the door, dragging a bloody and rather distressed looking man behind him. You recognized him as the man from yesterday.
Oh no.
“J! What are you doing?!” You shouted.
“Settle down bunny. I’m just trying to prove a point.” J told you.
You didn’t like how calm he was. One of his henchmen was literally bleeding out on your living room floor. 
“C’mere.” J called you over.
You reluctantly obeyed. J leaned down in the man’s face. 
“Now, listen here, uh, Joey, is it?”
“Y-Yes.” The man stammered.
“Joey, this beautiful woman here is mine. You know that. That’s why you were tasked to guard this place. Yesterday you talked to her rather, uh, flirtatiously and made her very uneasy.”
“I didn’t say two words to her!” Joey shouted.
You could see the sheer terror in his eyes. He knew despite his boss’ calm demeanor he was furious and was most likely going to kill him. J kicked him in his wounded side. The man screamed and clutched the wound.
“Don’t lie to me, Joey. You are well aware that I have eyes everywhere.” J shouted.
“Please J. Please don’t kill me. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I swear it.” Joey sobbed.
“Oh I know it won’t. You my friend are going to be made an example of. Nobody messes with my girl and lives.” 
J pulled out a pistol from his pocket. You shut your eyes closed and covered your ears, burying your face into J’s chest. You heard the muffled shot ring out and looked up. The henchman’s dead body was sprawled out on the floor. You prayed no one else in the building heard the noise.
“J! Why?!” You demanded.
“Relax, bunny. It had to be done. I didn’t like him anyway.” 
“Why did you do it here? In front of me! You could’ve done it at the hideout!” 
“I wanted ya to see. I thought he grossed ya out.”
You put a hand to your forehead and sighed. “I did not want to see this. And yeah, he did but you didn’t have to murder him in my living room! Look, you got blood on the couch! What are you even gonna do with the body?” 
Joker laughed. “Calm down, doll. I’ve got that covered and I’ll clean up. I’m gonna bring him back to the hideout and put him on display for everybody to see. Nobody’s gonna mess with you again.” 
You felt sick to your stomach. “That’s…great.”
Just as J had said, he took the body to the hideout and showed it off at his next meeting. The other henchmen got the message. You were completely off limits. They were not to even talk to you. Unless J gave them permission which would probably hardly ever happen. 
This whole ordeal made you realize that you had to be more careful. J was a very jealous man. You would never ever cheat on him but even simple conversations with other men was enough to set him off. You appreciated how protective he was towards you but sometimes it became too much.
Late night murder in your living room was far too extreme.
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havecourage-darling · 2 years
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Right Side Up // 6 (FINAL CH.)
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Princess Peach Series
Ch. 5: I'd make him swap our places || AO3 || Masterlist
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Henderson!Reader
wc: 6.4k
warnings: cursing, mild smut, S4 spoilers, angst with a happy ending
A/N: and that's how the cookie crumbles! Because a few people have asked: 1) I will be going back to updating Firsts (I think I've got like 3 or 4 more to add?) 2) I'm going to work on the Just Like Heaven AU, I promise! This + RTTB kind of took over my mental capacity lol 3) I have a few random one-shots coming up soon, so stay on the look out for those!
edit: y'all I am SO sorry I forgot the read more line lmao, pls forgive me
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Ch. 6: There is thunder in our hearts
“She’s got her memory back,” Dustin said, sounding relieved, “I only got like five minutes with her alone before Hopper showed up. He kicked me out and said they needed to get their story straight before they spoke to anyone.”
“But she remembers everything?”
“Yeah, she remembers everything again.”
Eddie almost melted into a puddle on this stupid fancy couch. Steve was glancing at him worriedly but Eddie just closed his eyes.
After they’d crawled out the gate and ran for help – it’d been clear that the right side up had also felt the effects of Vecna’s death. There had been a small ‘earthquake’ with minimal damage and almost no casualties.
Lucas had rushed to explain everything that had happened after you’d been taken to the hospital. And while Eddie wasn’t exactly glad that Jason had been one of the few casualties of the earthquake, he wasn’t crying over it. In fact, if he ever saw that stupid jock who’d tackled Erica, he’d be more than glad to give him someone to fight that was his own size. Although, considering the purple eye he was sporting, she did alright on her own.
It’d taken Steve, Nancy, and Robin to convince him not to race over to the hospital. He wouldn’t be allowed to see you anyway. He’d tried to climb out a window halfway through the first day and Steve had caught him. Robin threatened to handcuff him to a chair. So, here he was – at Steve’s house – hiding, yet again.
Dustin had been at your side when you’d woken yesterday and to everyone’s surprise, you’d asked where your dad was. When he was retelling everyone what’d happened, Dustin had squeezed his arm a little tighter and Eddie knew that had cut deeper than Dustin would admit.
Apparently, amnesia after suffering the type of concussion that you had was normal.
Jesus, you had a concussion. You’d been shot. Eddie just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
And if everything wasn’t chaotic enough, apparently Chief Hopper wasn’t dead? He’d emphatically avoided the man previously, so while he wasn’t as ecstatic as Steve and Nancy had been – Eddie knew you’d be happy to know the Chief was okay. If not looking a little slender. 
“I’m not sure what’s happening but Jonathan is on his way over to you guys with some supplies. She won’t need surgery and when I talked to her, she said her bruised ribs hurt the most,” Dustin said and Eddie wanted to throw something. “She asked for you today.”
“Did you tell her – I’m – if-” Eddie stammered.
“I told her, I swear – I told her you’d be here if you could,” he said. “If I’m ever allowed back in there without my mom I’ll try and get the walkie in.”
“Thanks man,” Eddie sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn’t help it – he was picturing the worst when he thought of you. By the time they’d made it to the Creel house, everyone had been taken to the hospital. He just wanted to see you – he had to see you before he went crazy. “How’s Max?”
“Pissed,” Dustin snorted, “she’s mad they won’t let her visit my sister either. I already signed her cast.”
“Alright, thanks.”
“Yeah. I’ll call again if we get an update.”
Eddie placed the walkie onto the coffee table in front of him and resisted the urge to scream. Steve might actually follow through with Robin’s threat and tie him up somewhere.
“She’s awake, that’s good,” Steve said, bobbing his head. His shoulders fell, head falling back and a deep exhale echoing in the room.
Sometimes Eddie forgot just how long you’d known Steve and Nancy. You’d all grown up together, your house a few minutes away from Wheeler’s. He tried to imagine if Jeff had been shot, he’d also be worried sick. Which reminded him he needed to let Jeff know he was okay…
“She’s going to be fine, she’s awake and she’s going to be fine,” Eddie said, attempting to comfort Steve but ending up reminding himself.
“Yeah,” Steve said, glancing at Nancy, who stood by the fireplace – chewing her nail.
“Maybe I can go down and take a look?” Nancy asked, wringing her hands together.
“Hopper told us to stay put,” Steve reminded them, wary eye on Eddie.
“Which is fucking bullshit,” Eddie said, for what felt like the hundredth time that hour.
Nancy sighed, her shoulder dropping. “I know, I know it is,” she plopped down onto the sofa next to him. Her warm hand on his shoulder surprised him and she smiled. “Have you cleaned the scratches today?”
He groaned and Steve snickered. Steve and Robin had been unbearable over the past few days with making sure any and all scrapes he’d gotten via demobat be disinfected daily. Any time he protested; Robin would respond with a shrill: “Do you want rabies!?”
Eddie felt like he should somehow be a little worried about it but he couldn’t find it within himself to care too much. Not when he was still trying to clear his name and couldn’t visit his fucking girlfriend in the hospital because he could go to jail.
“Come on,” Nancy said. Eddie groaned but he hauled himself to his feet and followed her lead into the bathroom. Halfway there, the doorbell echoed throughout the house.
Steve’s head popped out from the living room and the three exchanged a panicked look. Nancy shoved Eddie into the nearest room, the kitchen, and hid with him.
“Should I answer?” Steve whispered, tone sounding a little panicked.
Nancy shoved her head past Eddie’s shoulder and waved a hand in the air. Eddie groaned. This was a fucking mess.
“What did that mean!” Steve hissed.
“Oh my God,” Nancy muttered.
“Steve! It’s me!” A man’s voice filtered through the door. Nancy’s eyes brightened and Eddie assumed by the speed of which she darted to the door that it was safe to stop hiding.
“Jonathan!” Nancy beamed, curling her arms around his neck. Jonathan Byers, Eddie had a faint memory of him and his little brother, stood at the door.
“Hey, I’m Jonathan,” he said once he spotted Eddie.
“I’m Eddie,” he said, awkwardly shaking his hand, “and not a murderer.”
Jonathan laughed lightly, as if that had been actually funny. “Yeah, we know.”
“We?” Steve said, peeking over his shoulder.
A girl stood there, her head shaved, and she grinned brightly when she saw Steve. Who, in turn, returned her grin. They all greeted each other and Eddie sunk back into his spot on the sofa – eyes glaring at the walkie.
He didn’t want to seem bitter but, the idea that everyone else seemed to get their moments just reminded him that he didn’t have one with you. The sofa dipped with the weight of another person and Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet the brown ones of the girl.
“Hi,” she said, eyes darting all over him.
“Hi?” Eddie said, tone making it sound like a question. “I’m Eddie.”
“I know,” she said.
Well, okay then.
“You’re the girl with superpowers?”
She nodded. “Eleven.” With a smile she pointed to the ring on his finger, the one you’d given him a few days ago. “You’re the boyfriend.”
Eddie smile half-heartedly. “Yeah, I’m the boyfriend.”
“I have a message for you,” she said quietly, eyes deepening as her brows furrowed.
A message? He quirked his brow and pushed some hair out his face. “From who?”
“Henderson.”
“Dustin?” Eddie was confused, he’d just spoken to Dustin. His eyes wandered and he realized everyone was watching them.
“No,” she said quietly, hand coming up to his. “She said you would be worried.”
“Who?”
Eleven’s eyes darted down to their hands and Eddie felt the knot in his chest tighten. “She told me to tell you that she loved you. That she was sorry and she’d see you soon.”
“My Henderson?”
She nodded. “I know she will be okay. She’s just healing.”
Eddie’s mind completely went blank.
“How did you talk to her?” Nancy interjected, her eyes worried.
“I was piggybacking to Max and saw her. She…saved them,” Eleven said to the rest of them, “she said she hoped you kicked bat ass.”
Her cheeks flushed, but her eyes remained steady on Eddie’s. He’d known her for about sixty seconds and understood what you’d meant when you talked about her. There was something endearingly earnest in the way she spoke.
With an inhale, Eddie threw his head back and laughed. The entire room seemed to exhale at the sound, chuckles coming from the doorway and Eddie pictured you relaying your message.
“Eddie? Do you copy?” Dustin’s voice echoed.
Nancy scrambled for the walkie, hands getting there before his and he almost smacked it out of her fingers.
“It’s Nancy, we’re here.”
“Hopper says Eddie’s cleared,” Dustin said, elation evident, “I repeat, Eddie is cleared. He can come by!”
Everyone seemed to glance at each other before Steve was already scrambling for his keys. “Shit, okay come on!”
His heart was stuck in his throat and without really knowing how, Eddie found himself in the passenger seat of Steve’s car.
“Fucking step on it!” Eddie shouted.
“Do you want to be pulled over?” Steve exclaimed, despite the fact that he did speed up.
After a few tense minutes, Eddie saw the hospital in sight and threw open the door before Steve had come to a full stop.
“Jesus Christ!” Steve yelled. Eddie barely heard him; his feet took him to the receptionist desk.
“Hi, I’m looking for Henderson – she was brought in a few days ago-”
“Eddie!”
Dustin’s voice had Eddie’s head snapping to the left and he thanked the nurse before jogging down the hallway. “She’s in there man, she just woke up,” Dustin said, grinning, “Hopper said you’re all cleared – she’ll tell you the rest. Where’s everyone else?”
“Parking,” Eddie said faintly, squeezing Dustin’s shoulder.
“I’ll keep the wolves at bay for a while,” Dustin said, shrugging when Eddie shot him a grateful look. “My mom’s eating lunch in the cafeteria, I say you got like fifteen minutes.”
“Twenty and I’ll tell you how to beat Gareth in our next campaign.”
“Deal!”
Eddie smiled, pushing the door open slowly. His eyes immediately sought yours out, as if by habit. The first thing he saw, however, was a soft cast around your elevated ankle. His eyes widened as he saw the bruises climb up your leg and disappear into your dressing gown.
“Hey you,” you said, voice hoarse. Eddie’s eyes darted up to yours and his heart stopped.
Your left eye was a little swollen and the skin around it purple. The bandage at your left temple wrapped around your head and your right wrist had a splint on it. He frowned and felt a slow simmering rage build within his stomach. He wanted to scream, punch someone, rip a hole in the universe and put you into it so no one would ever be able to hurt you again.
At his silence, you shifted and immediately whimpered. Your good hand flew up to your ribs and you winced. Seeing pain flitter across your expression broke his paralysis. With quick steps, he was at your bedside, heart in his throat. “Princess, what…what did you do?”
“I kicked his ass,” you said, grinning up at him, eyes widening. “Wait, shit, is that horrible to say of someone who died? Oh my God, I’m an asshole.”
Eddie snorted, only you’d feel horrible about speaking ill of the dead. “If he was alive, I’d smother that asshole in his sleep.”
“He’s dead, Eddie,” you hissed, looking towards the half-closed door. “Besides, Hopper basically pinned everything on him to have you released. You’re the hero of this town, Munson.”
“Fuck this town, and fuck Jason Carver,” Eddie said fiercely, annoyed by your easy forgiveness. “He shot you.”
You waved your hand in the air, like a bullet hadn’t pierced your body. “He was a bad shot, both bullets barely grazed me. See?” You shifted your left leg, bandage on your knee the smallest of them all.
“Are you trying to excuse your almost-killer?”
“No!” You said, lowering your voice. “But, I mean, maybe let’s not harp on it.”
“Oh, I’ll harp – I’ll harp on it for the rest of our lives,” he said, all the energy in his body swooping out of him. He stumbled to the chair by your bed, slumping into it and dropping his head to your hand.
“Eddie?”
He waved his hand in the air. “I just need a second,” he said, taking deep breaths. He hadn’t known what he was expecting – but you arguing with him like you hadn’t been shot wasn’t it. He knew you had a rough road ahead of you, but it could’ve been worse. Much worse. And you were okay, you were really, really okay. “I get it,” Eddie said eventually.
“Get what?”
“Why you didn’t tell me about the other things – with Will and Billy,” he replied, and he did. If the other times all ended this stressfully, he got why you wanted to keep him as safe as possible.
“I’ll be okay, sweetheart,” you murmured softly, fingers scratching softly against his scalp.
Eddie exhaled, his worry no longer choking him. “Yeah, some superpowered buzzcut girl told me.”
Your face brightened and even with the bruises and bandages, you lit up the entire room. Air swooped from his lungs and you truly took his breath away. “You met Eleven? Isn’t she great?”
“She’s cool.”
Eddie watched your eyes find the long-jagged bruise across his neck, the one Robin harassed him to keep clean, and smiled when you frowned. “Oh, Eddie, you’re hurt.”
“That’s what you’re worried about? You’re in a hospital bed and you’re worried I’m hurt?”
Your small smile made his heart slam against his rib cage. “I’ll always worry about you, Munson. Someone’s got to keep you in check.”
Letting out a surprised laugh, Eddie narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “You’ve got some fucking audacity Henderson. After all that shit you gave me about being safe and not risking yourself. You had to go ahead and be the hero.”
“I know,” you patted his hand, “but you have to admit you’re the more reckless one between us both.”
Eddie gaped and his hands stretched out to the room. “Hospital. Bed.”
“Potato, tomato,” you brushed off.
He couldn’t help but smile, Jesus Christ you were going to send him to an early grave.
“I love you,” you said before he could continue bickering. “A lot.”
“Yeah?” Eddie said, shaking his head before leaning down for a kiss. “I love you too.”
Beaming, you patted the space at the edge of your bed. “Come on, I’ll tell you what the official story is so we all get it right. I stayed off the good stuff while the police came in to talk to me and the nurse just passed by to pump me fully of drugs. I want to tell it right.”
“Drugs?” Eddie said, sitting and clutching at his chest. “I cannot be seen with someone who’s involved in drugs.”
“Don’t make me laugh,” you said, hand coming up to your side again, “it hurts.”
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, his own covering yours. “What’s the wrist splint for?”
“It’s a light sprain,” you murmured, “the recoil on Jason’s gun was intense.”
“And you were talking shit about his skills,” he joked. You shot him a withering glare and he fought against the laugh building in his chest. “I’m sorry, that was the last one. Go ahead.”
Eddie could see your eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each minute that passed, the IV hooked up to you clearly doing the job. The sharp edge of pain in your expression seemed to lessen and Eddie couldn’t seem to let go of your hand.
“Did that make sense?” Your words stumbled together. “Hopper can answer any questions if you have them before the police interview you.”
“You know, I’ve never officially met the ol’ Chief.”
“Really?” You asked, surprised.
Eddie raised his brows. “You do know my occupation, right?” You snorted and Eddie took your lack of pain as a good sign that the meds were doing their job.
“He said he wanted to be in the room with you when they interview you, so don’t feel too nervous,” you assured him.
“Princess, now that I’ve seen you – I could not care less what happens to me.”
Your brows furrowed adorably and Eddie couldn’t help but smooth them out with his thumb. “I care, a lot,” you mumbled, eyes fluttering. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Never,” Eddie promised, serious for a moment. “I’m sure Dustin is barely holding back the whole group. Did you want me to tell them to wait after you sleep some?”
“No, I want to see everybody,” you said, stubborn as always.
“Peach….”
You rolled your eyes. “Just help me move the bed’s incline, if I’m lying down, I’ll just drift off to sleep easier.”
“Which is what you should be doing-”
“Edward.”
“Alright, alright,” he said, trying to figure out the remote wired to your bed. As he heard Steve and Nancy’s voice get louder in the hallway, he saw you smile from his peripheral.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He turned to you, smiling at your obvious chortle. “Princess, it’s not nice to not share with the class.”
Your eyes found his, and despite the medical haze around them, he saw the undercurrent of mischief and lucidity that made him smile. He turned back to the remote and frowned. Why was this so complicated?
“I heard you dedicated your song in the upside down to another girl. Should I be jealous?”
Eddie choked, eyes flying back to yours and you were biting down on your bottom lip – hand on your side – trying your best not to laugh in his face. You were messing with him. While you were in a hospital bed. After being shot at.
Fuck, he loved you so much.
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The months following your discharge and Eddie’s record being cleared, were hectic to say the least. Despite finally gaining back your mobility with your boot - and your ribs healing - you still always dragged your feet when it came to your recovery. More specifically, your physical therapy.
“He’s a sadist!” You’d huff, annoyed before giving in and trailing behind Eddie. Turned out, despite being only grazed by a bullet, twice, you still needed to rehab your body. Your left side would likely ways be your weaker one but you’d refused to let it stop you. Eddie had watched you grab life by the balls and goddamn if he didn’t love you more for it.  
After a whole week of doctor’s appointments, job interviews, graduation, and Robin’s birthday, you’d both declared Friday a date night.
Eddie didn’t miss you exactly - he spent most, if not all, of his time with you since you left the hospital - but you’d both been pulled in ten different directions that having dinner and a movie was nice. Finally being alone together for longer than a night was nice.
You navigated his, new, house with ease with your new cane. You’d been so excited to ditch the crutches, and Eddie was glad to see you move around with more confidence.
Although, since you’d gotten back from Steve’s house this morning - you had been acting strange. Your head was tucked onto his shoulder, his palm on your waist, pulling you into him. After another moment, you shifted your weight again and he narrowed his eyes at you.
Eddie watched you glance at the phone on his wall for the hundredth time in the past hour. When you shifted again and looked up, he opened his mouth to call you out on it when it rang.
What the fuck? Before he could process it and go to pick it up, you jumped to your feet. Squeaking when your boot wobbled, your arms flailed before regaining your balance and you grabbed the phone.
“Jesus Christ, be careful!” He hissed, a little tendril of panic gripping him at the memory of your bruises.
You ignored him, of course, and muttered into the phone. He rubbed a hand down his face and took a deep breath. The receiver slammed down onto the hook and he looked up at you. Eyes wide, and a little anxious, his stomach flipped. “What now?” He groaned.  
“Steve needs our help,” you said, hands flying to your bag by the entrance. “We gotta go, now.”
Eddie’s hands were reaching for your cane and his keys before he realized. “Help like help, help or help like we’re under attack again? Because you haven’t recovered from the last one. And to be super honest, neither have I.”
“Regular help, I think, I don’t know – he just said we had to get over there right now.”
At your glare Eddie sighed and nodded. “Alright, fuck it, let’s go.”
Trying to pull more answers from you, but receiving none, Eddie just watched your leg bounce up and down nervously. He’d driven a little over the speed limit, getting to Steve’s neighborhood in record time.
As he hopped out and rounded the car to try and help you down, he heard a bike brake over his shoulder.
“Robin?” You called out, as if you’d been expecting her. “Did you bike the entire way here?”
Eddie handed you your cane, eyes on Robin’s red face. She nodded, hand coming up to her chest as if that would help her catch her breath.
“Buckley are you okay?” Eddie asked, trying not to smile at her comical glare.
She dropped her bike on the lawn and leaned over her knees. “Steve called me saying it was a code red, my mom wasn’t coming home for another hour. I didn’t want to wait.”
With a nod, Eddie walked up to Steve’s door and rang the doorbell. After a few beats, no one answered, and Robin huffed. “The lights are all off, what the hell?”
“Let’s go around back maybe?” You suggested, lagging a little behind. When Eddie turned around to look at you, you waved him off. He’d preferred to be between you and whatever it was anyway. Robin caught up, walking shoulder to shoulder when he rounded the corner. Harrington’s backyard was dark – even the pool lights off – and he fumbled for the motion sensor light he knew was by the fence. As it turned on, it seemed like the rest of the backyard switched on with it.
“Surprise!”
Eddie scrambled back, heart jumping to his throat, and his hand immediately went towards Robin.
The entire backyard was filled with his friends, family, and everyone had confetti in their hands.
“What the fuck?” Robin screeched. “Mom?” She slid through the fence and ran towards her family. Everyone laughed and music blasted from the speakers by the grill. A hand came up to his shoulder, startling him a little, and your concerned eyes swam into his vision.
“I’m sorry, was surprising you too much? Oh, you hate it!” Your hands came up to his waist, eyes widening. “I’m so sorry, it was Dustin’s idea and I thought why not, you know? You deserved it but I should’ve known you wouldn’t-”
You rambled on, right hand waving around in the air nervously, and Eddie’s heart flipped at the rush of affection he had for you. Of course, you wouldn’t have just wanted to go out for dinner for his graduation. His eyes slid from your nervous ones and towards the yard. Jeff and Gareth waved at him, both brightening, and the little sheep all beamed his way.
“Sweetheart,” he said, cutting you off. “This wasn’t too much. Thank you.”
“I just – you graduated! You know? I’m so proud of you and I know everyone else here is too, you’ve come so far and I just…wanted to celebrate you – and Robin, obviously.”
Eddie’s heart burst from his chest and hopped back into your hands. “I love you, Peach.”
The grin that you shot him, felt like looking into the sun. “I love you too, Munson.” Your hand came up to his wrist and with a confident step, you pulled him into the chaos. “Come on, we’ve got games, food, presents.”
“Presents?” Eddie asked, eyebrows wiggling.
The sparkle in your eyes as you glanced over your shoulder at him almost took his breath away. “Well, I can’t give you my present in front of everyone. I don’t think you’d appreciate your best friends knowing what I’m wearing under this.”
Eddie’s blood immediately started pooling into his lower half. “What are you wearing? Princess, princess!” He hissed, pulling you into him. “You little…I’ll get you back, you know that.”
Your teeth grazed his neck and Eddie shivered. “Oh, I’m counting on it.” The look in your eyes made Eddie contemplate how rude it’d be if he hauled you back into the van.
“Eddie!” Wayne’s voice came from his left and you laughed at his torn expression.
“Come on, pervert,” you teased, “you’ll get me all alone soon enough.”
“It’s your fault, this is what you’ve turned me into,” he griped, smacking your butt and laughing when you squeaked.
“That’s called victim blaming!” You said, having the last word as you were separated into the crowd.
“I can’t believe you kept this from me,” Eddie said to Wayne, who had a beer in his hand and a wide smile on his face.
Wayne shook his head. “That girl of yours is pretty convincing, she’s been running around getting everything just right for almost two weeks now.”
“Two weeks?” Eddie shouted.
Lucas’ father walked up, smile already widening, and he shook Eddie’s hand. “Congratulations son, heard you managed to pass most of your finals with flying colors.”
“I wouldn’t say that much,” Eddie snorted, rubbing the back of his neck.
“He got a B on all his finals,” Wayne said proudly, tossing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “It was mostly Henderson and Wheeler helping but he got there eventually.”
Eddie ducked his head and listened as they made small talk about the upcoming game. His eyes glanced around the lawn and Eddie had to admit, it felt…nice to have so many people that cared about him.
After Vecna, after…everything, the town had completely turned around. People would still stop him in town and thank him for what he’d done. While he still wasn’t Jason’s biggest fan, he felt a little uneasy about the sudden positive attention. Considering he’d been the town pariah for most of his high school life.
But that wasn’t it – it’d been after he’d met you. You’d brightened his life in every way that mattered.
Your laugh floated down to him from where you were sitting on the back deck, leg already elevated. Nancy was sitting next to you, her smile wide as you talked.
He watched your eyes trail down to him and you brightened when you saw he was looking back. You curled a finger, patting the seat next to yours and Eddie excused himself.
If anyone would’ve told him a year ago, that this was where his life would’ve ended up – he would’ve laughed them out of this town. Now? As you curled into his side and he was surrounded by his friends – he had to admit, it was nice.
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“I shouldn’t have eaten that last bit,” Eddie complained, flopping out onto the couch next to you.
Rolling your eyes, you turned to him and grinned. “I told you not to,” you said, watching him sigh dramatically.
“I told you not to,” he mimicked you, voice high. His lips came down to your bare shoulder, teeth nipping at the skin. You squirmed, laughing, and shoving him away.
“I don’t sound like that,” you insisted, poking his arm. He grinned and your eyes darted over the affectionate look on his face.
Eddie pulled you into his chest and you laid your head onto him. “So, we finally made it.”
“To our one year anniversary?” You asked, mildly insulted.
At that, he choked, laughing loudly. It echoed throughout the air, both of you on the back deck with the hot tub heating up for a dip later tonight.
“No,” he said, chuckling still, “I meant, we’re made it to Lake Monroe.”
“Oh,” you grinned sheepishly. “Did you think we weren’t?”
Eddie tilted his head and pretended to think. “I mean, when the entire town thought I’d murdered a few of my classmates, you were shot, and I was running for my life from demobats? Yeah…that did make me hesitate.”
“Wow, so what you’re saying is you had no faith in us?” You joked, smiling when he squeezed your arm. “I’m glad we made it too. I’m also glad I can finally say that nothing hurts.”
He shot you a look and you sighed. “Besides my ankle every once in a while. I work on my feet and you need to stop hovering protectively eventually.”
“I don’t think I will, there’s something about seeing the love of your life in a hospital bed with a black eye – it sticks with you.”
You raised a brow and bit you smile back. “Love of your life, huh?”
Eddie grinned at your, evidently, pleased expression and kissed you. “Yeah, Princess, did you think you weren’t?” He teased, echoing your words.
“After a year and the upside down? I better be,” you grumbled, wrapping your arms around him. “I know it took us a while but I am glad we’re here. It’s beautiful.”
Most of the first day had been spent hiking and swimming in the lake. You’d both stayed close to the shore, the reminder of the last lake you’d swam in still too fresh, but it had been fun. Eddie’s nose was a little red from the sun and your legs ached from the walk but it was so…peaceful.
The sound of screeching feedback had you both wincing suddenly and then the music boomed across the water and towards you two.
Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?
Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth
They say in Heaven, love comes first
The only time the both of you had managed to get time off in September was throughout the week – and thanks to that, most of Gareth’s uncle’s neighbors were away for the season. Almost everyone. The neighbors to directly to your left, apparently, were best friends on a small getaway. They’d introduced themselves to the both of you when you’d pulled up, offering up anything should you need help.
Eddie had thanked them and you’d teased him the entire day about how they couldn’t keep their eyes off of him. “They’re old enough to be, like, our moms.” He shuddered. It still made you laugh. They had been nice though, but were prone to random bursts of blasting music at ground shattering levels.
“For the love of sweet Jesus,” Eddie groaned.
While you genuinely hadn’t minded the music most of the time, you liked the songs, Eddie – on the other hand – was ready to throw himself into the water. It seemed your neighbors had a particular love of Belinda Carlisle.
You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to keep your face neutral as you sat with your bad leg stretched out. Eyes focused on the water - your cheek twitched when Eddie narrowed his gaze in your direction.
“I can see you trying not to laugh.”
“Me?” You said, overshooting and your voice coming out a little too loud. “That is…that is a gross accusation.”
“Mhmmm.”
“I mean, what’s so funny about a song? A simple little song?” You said, examining your nails pointedly. Your head bopped to the melody. “It’d only be funny if you were…somehow…a bit of a patronizing little punk about music. But, of course, you’re not – so…nothing funny here.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed and you only had a few seconds to disentangle yourself from his arms and run towards the open sliding doors. 
His arms curled around you before you fully made it passed the kitchen island and your laugh bounced off the walls.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice mock hurt, and barely audible above your laughter, “did you just call me, your boyfriend, a punk?”
When you didn’t answer, his fingers danced alongside your hips and your laughter ricocheted up. “I didn’t! I didn’t!” You said, squirming out of his hold for a brief second before he trapped you again on the wide sofa by the windows.
You were both breathing hard and you felt his knees cage your legs in. His hands pinned your wrists above your head and your chests were bumping with each breath you took.
“I could’ve sworn I heard you,” he murmured, pupils darkening.
Always the instigator, you bumped your hips against his and grinned when his eyes narrowed and his breath hitched. “Actually,” you said, licking your bottom lip, “I called you a patronizing little punk.”
Eddie blinked and after a beat laughed. “You little shit,” he grunted, hands releasing your wrists. You wrapped them around his shoulders and brought him closer to you.
“Why don’t you teach me a lesson?” You asked, wiggling your brows. The current between you two crackled as his hands trailed down to your hip, the shorts you were wearing loose and easy to pull down.
His hand tapped against your ribs and his eyes softened a little. “Considering we thought we’d broken the bed this morning-”
“-I heard a crack, I swear!-” You insisted.
“-do you feel up to a round…”
“Four?” You said, laughing and wiggling under him. “Come on Munson, I’m fine. I promise, if any one of my various ailments hurts I…still probably wouldn’t tell you because I really want you, right now.”
Eddie grinned, shaking his head at your wide-eyed innocent look. “You’ll be the death of me.”
“Ah, probably,” you said, pulling your shirt off and flinging it to the side. Your hands pushed his shirt up and you grinned when he willingly let you pull it off him. “But wouldn’t it be a way to go?”
“Yeah,” he said, fingers trailing across your bare chest, “it would be.”
The earnest tone of his voice made the fire inside you dull down to a more manageable level and you pulled him into a deep kiss. His hips started to press down into yours, his right hand pushing your shorts down lower onto your thighs.
Children, behave
That's what they say when we're together
The music floated in through the open sliding doors, a little lower than when you were outside but the lyrics still just as audible. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss and Eddie pulled back to glare at you. “What?” You said laughingly. “It’s a good song! Appropriate too.”
Pulling your hand from between your bodies, you pretended to hold a mic and sang along with the music.
“I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be anyone around.” You could tell by the mirth in his eyes that he was trying hard not to laugh but the longer you sang, the more of his smile you could see.
“Alright, alright, I’ll give on the timing,” Eddie admitted and you cheered at the win.
“Where’s my prize?”
With surprising speed, you watched Eddie fish for a condom by the side table.
“You left some on the table?” You laughed, surprised.
Eddie held one up triumphantly and shot you a knowing look. “Considering it’s us, yeah, Princess – I left them everywhere for easy access.”
“That’ll be nice for Gareth’s uncle to find after we leave,” you said, breath stuttering as his hand slid beneath your underwear to peel it off.
“I can assure you, we’re already running low,” he said, his breath fanning over your ear. “Less talking, you’re supposed to be learning a lesson.”
You grinned at his silly expression. “Promises, promises.”
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“So, our first vacation,” you mused, catching your breath now that your soul had returned to your body. “Despite the delay, I’d say it was a success.”
“Definitely not our last either,” Eddie said, joining you on the couch again after throwing out the condom. “London is our first stop.” He stretched his arms out, hands behind his head.
The muscles in his arm caught your attention, your eyes dragging down the veins as they disappeared by his elbow. The smirk on his face let you know he’d caught you.
“Our first road trip too,” you added, ignoring his knowing look. What? He was your boyfriend for a reason.
Edie snorted, his eyes roaming over your face. “I think there’s a lot of other firsts we have on the list.”
“Yeah?” You said, excited about the possibilities.
“Hell yeah, first apartment?” He said, grinning. “Because this whole having our own space was really nice.” He said eyes trailing down to your naked chest.
You grinned, immediately picturing what an apartment that was just yours would look like. “Stop it,” you smacked his hand as it snaked up to your chest.  
“Who checked who out first?” He laughed when you rolled your eyes. “Our apartment would have a clothes ban.” Eddie pulled you into his arms.
“A clothes ban?”  
“Yep. They’re restricting,” he said, index finger trailing up your spine. You shivered, closed your eyes, and dropped your ear to his chest. The steady beat of his heart bounced in your ear as you both went back and forth, laughing at the more outrageous firsts you could think of.
“First time I make you laugh so hard you snort out soda,” Eddie said and you huffed.
“You’re not that funny,” you joked.
Eddie’s indignant yelp made you laugh and he lifted an arm into the air. “See! I make you laugh all the time!”
He wasn’t wrong. A faint thought floated to the front of your mind. “Oh, I’ve got a good one!”
“Hit me.”
“Your first sold-out concert,” you said, imagining it in your head. A whole stadium with screaming fans and the music so loud you could feel it in your chest. Eddie with his guitar and, knowing the guys, some pyrotechnics.
Eddie laughed. “We only just booked a new venue and now we have the ability to sell out a concert?”
“Yeah,” you said, like that was obvious. “It’ll happen, mark my words.”
“Well, if this year has taught me anything it’s that you’re usually always right. So, I’m believing you on this one,” he said, “or at least, I’m hoping.”
“That’s a good lesson to learn,” you joked, “and anyway, whatever firsts that are on the list – I can’t wait to do them all with you.”
“Even our no-clothes allowed apartment?” You laughed, your body shaking and Eddie grunting at the movement. “Yeah, perv’, even that.”
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winderlylandchime · 4 months
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I came on your blog to send you a few updates about my brother because the man is a gift that keeps on giving and then I saw that you tagged one of the posts about wanting an update about my brother. Gotta love it when the planets align that way haha. I apologize for how long this is but it has been an interesting week in my brothers life so I tried my best to keep it short and failed as you can see lol.
First of all I had to break the news to him about Randy retiring from acting to become a therapist. And it went just as how you’d imagine it to go if you imagine a grown man with a tendency to be childish and dramatic reacting to it. So many things happened so I gotta tell you the highlights: We were on facetime and I told him, he screamed (an actual AHHHH while holding a hand to his chest) and then went ‘of fucking course! The second I join the fucking party, he decides to fucking retire. And I’m supposed to NOT take it personal?!’. And while he was going on about it he was also doing something but i didn’t see what and all I saw was him grabbing scissors in a really stupid way (they were pointed towards him) so I went ‘ummmm’ and he goes ‘what? Oh come on, not even I am that fucking dramatic. I’m making myself a *said so that the last letter made a pop type of sound* crop top.’ And then he enthusiastically showed me the shirt that had A LOT of writing on it and he cut it so that only the first word is on it which is “HOLE”…. He is very proud of it btw, plans to wear it to his PT next week.. i swear he lives his life like a reality show mixed with a sitcom.
Anyway, he can’t believe Randy is actually going to be a therapist. Like at all. And then he goes ‘that’s so fucking weird though. Blondie a therapist. There’s no way people won’t recognize him..*long pause* do you think Gale also has a normal job now? Imagine he’s like a professor or some shit since he is nowhere to be found (me: how do you know that?)….i may have googled him..seriously is he even alive still?’ (ngl now i keep wondering if Gale also said fuck it and got a normal job) and then what followed was him gasping and then looking up at the ceiling and going ‘dear god.. i know i talk a lot of shit about you but if you could PLEASE make some gay dude go viral with a tweet or a dumb tiktok video about how Blondie is his therapist, that would be so fucking dope. Thanks bye’ and now I can’t stop thinking about the possibility of some gen z kid making a tiktok about it..
The good thing about this week is that he is finally covid free so i was talking to a non-feverish person which tbh not much difference, the bad thing is the dude somehow managed to get laryngitis so he’s losing his voice at a speed of light and while he was going on and on about Randy, he kept losing his voice more and more..which obviously made things for me, his little sister, a lot more fun. He was completely raspy yesterday and today he kinda still has a voice but not really. And no, none of this has prevented him from not talking about Randy retiring. It’s been over 24 hours.. Mom was annoyed with him because he will lose his voice talking about a middle aged white gay man, so he is balancing it by also talking about Gale aka a middle aged white straight man.
He also got really angry because he discovered that QAF online doesn’t have the right soundtrack (he already knew that but forgot). He was so upset about that that he was going on about it for at least 5 minutes while sounding like a dying goat. He then tried to bribe me to send him my dvds..So now his mission for 2024 is to somehow/somewhere find the dvds. Mom is hoping he doesn’t succeed because she knows full well what would happen aka he will force her to watch it. However our uncle is betraying her by helping him because the 69 year old gay dude likes drama. Mom thinks the fact that she lives 20 minutes away will stop my brother from making her watch it.. She clearly underestimates him.
And then probably my second favorite part because I got to witness it all through texts and voice memos and facetimes is that while he had covid, he had a lot of free time so one day he said fuck it and started going through everything qaf related online. So here’s a bit of a rundown of his 20 years late opinions: He is (still) angry at Hal, he’s angry at one of the writers (i forgot his name but it’s the writer who talked shit about Randy publicly), he has mixed feelings about Dan and Ron just because he’s not very fond of old men but he is also sure as fuck that they had issues with Randy, he found out that Michelle has a child with Bryan Singer and now he doesn’t like her because “i have morals.” He again remembered Gale was Pentecostal and that threw him in for a spiral at 3 am and what followed was a feverish rant about cults (which made no sense but that’s okay). He found old interviews where Randy was not so fond of qaf and that made him have some feelings but it ended up with him announcing a “war” against writers. And then he circled back to his anger at Hal because he decided that he was clearly jealous of Gale/Randy’s attention. He has range ngl. This is also where he decided Gale is a missing person because ‘seriously how the fuck can nobody post anything about him? Make him go to some charity event or some shit, I miss my man.’
Then on the day that I told him Randy is retiring which was like 2(?) days ago, he called me because he listened to the Poly episode of Randy’s podcast again (this lead to me later telling him since he didn’t see the new ep since this was the only one he had saved) anyway he called me to ask ME about if I* think he could be polyamorous (having siblings that youre close with is such a weird fucking thing). Then he decided I was not the right person to ask so he called our aunt who actually is polyamorous while he was on facetime with me and I got to witness the beauty that made me and my neighbor laugh way too hard (i wish you could hear/see him but just imagine a toddler covered in chocolate trying to make a point with an attitude how he totally didn’t eat the chocolate) because our aunt hit him with ‘i mean…stranger things have happened but also (his name), you broke up with your ex girlfriend because she wouldn’t share her purse with you’ He argued it with this and I quote ‘okay FIRST of all how DARE you bring that up, you know I’m still sensitive about that, 2nd the purse matched my outfit so it was rude she didn’t share. 3rd, I shared my two purses with her whenever she asked because sharing is caring, see that proves my point, 4th the purse was in a box for donations so once again: RUDE on her behalf and 5th and probably most important part: she cheated on me with her cousin’s girlfriend 2 days before so I think the least I deserved was to be allowed to borrow a fucking purse.’ Reader, I need you to understand that this happened like 10 years ago when he was like 25. Till this day he is more upset about the purse part than the cheating part. He was upset about that for a week until she texted him she thinks she’s gay and then he went ‘oh..i mean you couldve just fucking said so..btw did you throw that purse away?’ Our whole family still makes fun of that (in a nice way) bc he really didnt care about anything except the purse but also because he hit on a girl at bar once and she told him she’s gay and he pulled up instagram and showed her our accs and went ‘i got a sister or an ex, whose number would you prefer’ so he’s definitely still upset over the purse. Btw the jury is still out on him being able to share a whole human.
And also today which is why I’m sending you this now, I woke up to these next texts: ‘what if i change my therapist and I go to Randy? How fucked up would that be?’ ‘Imagine I end up in his office and just start talking to him about qaf’ ‘wait hold up, imagine if I didn’t know it’s him! And i show up in my Justin shirt and go on this long speech about this show and Brian and Blondie…at what point do you think he’d stop me?’ ‘Okay so I texted (his therapists name) and after he was done being mad at me for asking him dumb questions under the impression of emergency late at night, his only words were ‘in my humble professional opinion, (his name), it would be BEYOND fucked up’ but I think he’s exaggerating, what do you think?’ ‘So what kind of therapist do you think he’ll be? Like one on one ‘you got depression, heres pills’ type or couples or what?’ ‘Also do you think he’ll be a cool chill therapist or will he be one of those that look like they escaped their Mormon family and have a stick up their ass?’ ‘Do you think my man is also doing some random work now? Like mechanic or something?’ ‘My man as in my man Gale btw’ ‘no but fr imagine you go to therapy and the dude who you watched fuck on tv is your therapist… at what point do you tell him that you know what his booty looks like?’ ‘His choice in clients are limited.. either kids with no social media or like the fucking Amish’ So I would say he is handing the Randy retirement/therapist news about the same as all of us… or worse.. I actually can’t decide.
Dear sweet anon! I put out into the universe that I wanted updates from you and your brother and the universe delivered.
First of all, we are all devastated about Randy retiring from acting/public life. But also, as a therapist, I do support this journey for him. I do think it will be hard but he will have supervisors along the way to help him navigate the fact that there is footage out there of his butt on a Showtime show. Either that or he can only see clients who are toxic levels of heterosexual.
Speaking of your brother's idea to covertly become his patient, may I direct you to this anon I received? Here THE FANDOM KNOWS YOUR BROTHER AND PREDICTED HE WOULD WANT TO INFILTRATE RANDY'S THERAPY PRACTICE.
The soundtrack online is a travesty and is also homophobic. Would your uncle help me find the DVDs too? I have S2 but not the rest. (I don't even have a DVD or Blu Ray player but I also bought the entire David Tennant Doctor Who collection on Blu Ray (well minus 14 I guess) so at this point I'm just collecting stuff. (I do have a link to a google drive with all the episodes but you or your brother would have to reach out to me by DM here or on discord (thataj.) because I can't post it publicly (it's not actually mine lol).
I think it is very polyamorous to break up with someone for not sharing. Also, I am now curious about his collection of purses. Isn't sharing the name of the game in polyamory?
I think all of his opinions about everyone are so valid. We do get one (1) proof of life from Gale on social media per calendar year. Usually on someone else's account. I know there was a post of him in 2023 so we need to look out for 2024. I do NOT know what he is doing to earn a living these days. It is very likely he has a job that is not in entertainment or at least not on stage or on screen. Maybe entertainment adjacent?
Thank you so much for this update. I love that this continues to cause drama and discussion in your family. I love that your brother's therapist is fully involved. And I love that you continue to share your family with us.
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Seat 21 - Chapter 6
A/N: So so sorry for the long wait on this one!! Shit hit the fan and I forgot to update lmao. Going to mass update soon!
“Do not fear, students,” A voice booms. The discomfort it usually brings me is overrun by relief.
“I am here.” All Might zips toward us, seemingly flying inbetween villains on the way.
Everyone he’s touched is down. 
I glance up at Aizawa sensei, his eyes losing their glow. 
Though suddenly, I’m looking down at him instead.
My shoulder clashes against someone else, the warmth of their skin startling me. Sopping wet cloth sticks against my tail. Frantically, I search for everyone; only to find them encased by the same large suit-clad arms as myself.
All might. 
Wind rushes over us, and I feel my fins start to shrivel away. 
Gently, we meet the reddish cement. 
“Everybody head back to the entrance; and take Aizawa sensei. He hasn’t got much time.” The number one hero instructs, barely sparing us a glance. All I can do in response is nod.
My newly returned legs tremble as I pull them underneath me.
The pavement is rough and hard, my shoes long gone in the struggle. By the time I’m up, there is little I can do to help except follow my fellow students up the staircase.
The mutters from my left are near incoherent, but concerning nonetheless. Words like limits, trouble, time, are all I can pick up.
“Tsuyu, Hinode?” He speaks up.
“Yes Midoriya?” Tsuyu croaks.
“I need you two to carry Aizawa sensei.” His voice is warbling, eyes distant. 
I’m scared. I know whatever he intends to do, it will be dangerous.
But I cannot help, not without hindering him.
I slide an arm under Aizawa sensei’s arm; Midoriya takes off. Heading directly back into battle.
Careful. I think. Be safe, be careful.
Mineta and Tsu scream after him to no avail.
A commotion begins from the scene and my head snaps. Three more classmates.
The hotheaded Bakugou, the cheery Kirishima and the reserved Todoroki.
Forcing myself to turn back, I trudge up the stairs; Aizawa’s weight heavy against me.
From there; everything is a blur.
By the time we get to the top, everyone is hopeful. All Might is winning. 
Thirteen is in as good a shape as Aizawa is.
My damp skirt does little to clean the blood off of my sensei’s face. 
Cheers; All Might won.
Iida bursts through the door - our teachers in tow.
The villains warp away.
Aizawa sensei is rushed to hospital, I stay kneeling next to where he was laying.
We take the buses back to U.A.
A policewoman with a feline head takes my statement.
I walk home; head spinning with worry.
-
That night, dreams plague me. 
Blood running down Aizawa sensei’s face.
Midoriya starting to drown.
Blue and red and blue and red and blue and red and blue and red and blue-
I wake up with a soaked pillow and scales on my cheeks.
It takes what feels like years to fall asleep, but seconds to wake back up. My phone trills relentlessly.
A quick swipe, and the video call is answered.
Warm honey oozes out of me.
Hi Jun. I sign.
“Aneesan! I just saw the news! Are you okay? Was it cool? Did you sing?” Green eyes shine as my brother babbles on.
I’m fine, and it was I start, before Jun whines.
“Aneeesan, Mama’s at work, plus its a phone call. Talk to me!” 
I am talking. I grin cheekily. Another exasperated groan.
“Yes, it was very exciting,” I finish, all the leftover tension fading. His eyes shimmer like stars.
“Did you sing?” He asks again. My throat burns.
“I didn’t have a choice, Jun.” I explain.
“Whoaaa!” The boy awes, “I bet you were so cool.”
Laughter bubbles in my chest, floating out of my mouth. I can barely see his green stars, Jun smiles so big.
His smile drops, hair flopping to the side.
“What was that?” He asks, looking behind me. I hum, turning my head.
Then again, a patient rapping at the door.
“I’ll call you back Aneechan, bye!” Jun drawls, the chirpy dial cutting him off.
Wrapping a stray blanket around me, I scurry to the door. Considering yesterday, the peephole seems like a good idea.
Bright chartreuse stares right back at me.
“There she is!” A cheer from the other side of the door. Though the relaxed hair is different, its hard not to recognise those pointy yellow glasses.
Unlocking the door, I swing it opened.
Mic sensei? My fingers spell swiftly.
“The one and only, kiddo!” My teachers grin is overly wide, and comfortingly normal.
“Sho- uh, Aizawa sensei is awake now, he said you were pretty worried about him yesterday. Thought I’d come check in!” His smile softens, giving me a once over.
“Not alot of sleep, huh?” Kind eyes evaluate my face, quirking an eyebrow. I shake my head.
Is Aizawa sensei okay? I ask; images still flashing through my mind.
“Nothing he can’t handle, he’ll be good as new in no time!” A gentle hand on my shoulder, but when I look up; Mic sensei’s eyes are looking right through me.
“Your ‘rents home kiddo?” Again, I shake my head.
“They gone out for the day?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing.
No. I’m here for school, my mama and brother live on the coast. I explain.
“On your own?” Surprise is evident in his tone, but I shrug it off. 
“Not even a cat?” Surprise becomes shock, and I shake my head. 
“That’s,” Mic sensei pauses. “Not ideal, kiddo.” 
All I have to offer is another shrug. 
I manage.
Blond brows stay knitted together. 
“Hey kid? I need to make a few calls, mind letting your sensei in?” He asks.
I weigh everything up, ultimately deciding on letting him in. 
Mic sensei leads himself in, sitting at the kitchen table; diligently tapping away at his phone.
“You keep doing whatever you were doing kid, I won’t be long.” He waves offhandedly.
Awkwardly, I shuffle around the tiny kitchen - making a bowl of cereal to bring back to bed.
Junkun: Who was it?
Aneesan: One of my senseis.
Junkun: :0
Junkun: Is it a hero??
Junkun: Who is it???
Aneesan: Present Mic sensei
Junkun: THE Present Mic????
Aneesan: Yes, he’s just checking in on students today.
When I go back to the kitchen, Mic sensei is muttering into his phone.
“-just a kid,” followed by some grainy mumbles from the other side. I quickly hurry back to my room.
As I’m replacing my blanket for a hoodie, I hear an outburst from the kitchen.
“-have a duty of care! It’s not safe!” A chair scrapes, and I jerk back.
Not long after, a knock on my bedroom door.
“Hey kiddo, I’ve got some other errands to run, but I’ll come by and check in again later, kay?” Messy strands fall from his bun.
Ok. 
-
MASTERLIST
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agni-ashes · 2 years
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oh i forgot! update on me watching wwdits: finished s4e6 yesterday and *cue cackling* marwa is so cute i love her. go off, the djinn!! do whatever you want!! this is YOUR world, the rest of them are just living in it. you’re hot and desi and so you can do whatever the fuck you want!! jesus christ he’s hot. N E WAIS. moving on, the djinn making marwa like whatever nandor likes… i knew immediately he’d find a way to turn it to do smth will guillermo.. LMAOOO. marwa peppering guillermo’s face with kisses. this is what nandor feels about guillermo. “you’re my best… man” ok bro ok sure stop your denial my man Please. absolutely hilarious. najda and the baron. and then lazlo and the baron. good for them. good for them. going back to the beginning of the episode i’m NOT OVER guillermo losing his extremely tested patience and screaming!!! like. GOOD FOR YOU. GOOD FOR YOU. and then destroying a wholeass room. AS HE SHOULD!!! yeah i’m done now (no i’m not)
GUILLERMO’S OUTFIT AT THE WEDDING DEAR GODDDDD IM DOWN BAD GOOD FOR YOU MY MAN GOOD FOR YOU!! how tf if nandor so stupid
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grayskiesdarkvibes · 11 months
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Yesterdays total was around 500kcals cause I got sushi! Sorry I forgot to update :)
It ended up turning a great day into a horrible one because the other manager is incompetent and didn’t read his roster nor the work chat we tagged him in. So he called me up to abuse me for not being in at work (I mean cussing and screaming to the point my partner could hear him on the other end)
I’ll be having a meeting with the big boss tomorrow to discuss how he treated me because it sent me into a full blown panic attack and now a depressive episode where all I want to do is sl*sh my damn body.
On the plus side, atleast I don’t want to eat much and since I couldn’t sleep I went to the gym.
I burnt 300kcals
I’ve had a protein shake - 175kcals
And I made a stir fry salad?? It was just a bed of rocket with 4 pieces of sautéed brocolli, one portabello mushroom and an egg with gochujjang so like 120kcals.
My partner is talking about sushi again - if we go get sushi I’ll just stick to the normal this time - miso soup and the mini cucumber rolls which would be 186kcals
Im just fucking heartbroken and angry that my other manager thought he had the right to speak to me like that.
Im the first one in the break up or centre myself in a physical fight if it’s to protect others, and I’m definitely not afraid to be hit or hit back.
But verbal abuse really just triggers me and makes me break down so quick and I don’t understand why.
I’m so glad I’m leaving there now.
Update: total intake was 780kcals
We ended up having dinner at a Mexican place and it had their calories listed🙏
So I got some taquitos - with guacamole and A burrito but it was just filled with lettuce and pico de gallo with vegetables. - 500 kcals
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morganaloveblr · 2 years
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Stupid Personal Rant
Why does my shitty co-worker act like every little mistake I make is the worst thing in the word. I have been covering for her for 2 weeks and what do I wake up to on my first day off?!?!??!
“WhY WasN’T the ENd oF dAY RePOrt SENt YesTERdAY? tHE mANAger is Soooo MAD AT yOU FoR NOt SEnDing IT”.
The manager doesn't give a shit and it can be sent anytime. I just forgot sorry but its not the end of the world.
She gives me lists of things to do as if shes my boss. She asked me to call a patient I had already called and when he didn’t answer the second time to discuss the exact same thing I had already spoke to him about I left a voicemail and put him on my list to call again later. When I told her that she was just like “that’s not good enough”. WTF AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THEN?!?!?! Just repeatably call until he answers!?!? I have my own shit to do during the work day. If you need this list done do it yourself.
I manage three clinics and have one day off, she is in for 2 days a week and one of those days she doesn't even have a clinic on, she will be leaving for maternity leave in a month. She just wants to feel important and superior so she blows any mistake i make out of proportion.
Last week, she said I was ignoring patient emails and told this to the manager, if she was using her time productively instead of looking for mistakes with my work, she would have seen that I called this patient and sorted his issue over the phone. But she acted like I’m constantly ignoring emails. Then when she was scolding me she goes “I shouldn’t have to look through 2 weeks of work to fix your mistakes”. Umm????? You shouldn’t have to look through my work at all?????? Why are you????? 
She acts like any one off mistake is something I am consistently doing wrong. If I forget something once she acts like I never remember it and am always leaving it to her. 
When she was training me she never gave me enough information. Like there are these lists we have to update. She never said there is a specific date they need to be updated by.  When speaking with receptionists in other branch’s they said there is no major rush or specific day they need to be done by,as long its done weekly.  Well she texts me today “WhY WeREnt’t TheY DOne YesTERdAy?!?!?!” I said because yesterday is the busiest day of the week so I do them on the quieter days and have been told its OK. She then decides to tell me that the boss checks these lists from our branch on the same day every week and needs them done before then. I don’t even think that’s true because I have been updating them on different days for a while now and the boss hasn't said a thing. She just wants things done according to her schedule and if its not she acts like its a major issue and I’m on the verge of being fired for it. She calls me defensive whenever she is screaming at me for my mistakes but never realizes how aggressive she is.
Whenever I speak to the manager about it she always like “Your work is fine, I think your doing great, many staff members have complained about her and she is the main reason the last girl in your position moved branch’s but please try to bear it until she leaves” Like it takes a major weight off knowing the manager is on my side and not listening to her bs but at the same time she should be doing something if her aggressive behavior is causing other capable staff to leave. I would have left ages ago if I thought I would be working with her for much longer. And when she comes back I will leave because there is no way I can continue to work with her.
And god forbid I point out any mistakes she makes and there are plenty. Patients told they have an appointment and then never booked in, patients being given wrong dates, patients booked in on days where their procedure can’t be done and me having to explain why cause shes only in for 2 days so its always me fixing it. I try to tell her and am met with “No, actually that must have been you, I know the computer says it was me and the patient said they spoke to me but it must have been you somehow or the patient is wrong”. Like WTF you scream at me for any little thing but you can’t even step up and say sorry my bad when you actually do something wrong. She just fucking sucks. 
Anyway if you read this far thanks. I never really use this blog for anything really personal but I’m having such a hard time with this women. Ugh is the job even worth it if its making me this miserable? It’s so close by and convenient and the actual job itself is very enjoyable but I seriously don’t think I can work with her once she comes back from maternity and if she manager has let other people go rather then deal with her behavior then I don’t think I’ll be staying. 
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deanstead · 2 years
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Pieces (7): Feelings are strange
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Chapter 7: Feelings are strange
Chapter Summary: Y/N worries when Jay stops responding to her messages. Meanwhile, a ruckus in the waiting room attracts Y/N’s attention.
Word Count: 1,879
Warnings: allusions to verbal abuse, threatening behavior
A/N: Things are... moving. Kind of. I hope you like this update! All the comments have really got me more excited to show you more chapters! Remember to stop by and let me know what you guys think!!!
SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST
Previous Chapter || Next Chapter
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You’d taken Chloe to school yourself the next day to talk to them and find out why Caleb was able to take her out of school and found out that even though you’d filled out the paperwork, they hadn’t processed it. It had taken a whole lot of effort not to scream at everyone in the room. Instead, you’d insisted on seeing the list of approved adults for Chloe just so you could rest easy that she wasn’t going to disappear right under your nose again.
So you’d definitely felt better for the rest of the day, your mind wandering back to what Jay had said to you the night before.
You’d always thought that when the day came again when someone, anyone, asked you out on a date again, you’d say no with absolutely no hesitation. That’s what you’d told yourself the day Caleb had walked out on you and Chloe. You’d never trust someone else with yours or Chloe’s happiness, ever again.
But that was before Jay Halstead.
You wanted to be mad at him, really. You wanted to be mad at him for crashing headfirst into your life, for wavering your determination to not let anyone too close, for making you feel like you mattered again. But you couldn’t even be mad at him.
You glanced at your phone.
You’d sent him a text to say that the two of you should talk but he hadn’t responded, so you stuffed your phone back into your pocket where it belonged. But now that you were anticipating a response, it felt like a boulder that you were carrying around all day, you literally had to fight the urge to check it every few minutes.
When he hadn’t responded by the next day, your initial annoyance had slowly shifted into worry. It wasn’t like Jay to not respond like this. At first, you’d thought he might have been annoyed that he hadn’t gotten a response from you, after all a guy like Jay Halstead probably didn’t face rejection much, or at all. But now, you weren’t so sure.
“Hey, Will.” You headed up to him where he was getting coffee.
You hesitated, now.
Will frowned. “What’s up? Everything okay?”
You nodded. “Is Jay okay?”
Will’s eyebrow rose. “Yeah, as far as I know. Why? Did you hear something?”
You shook your head. “I just... I haven’t heard from him. He usually doesn’t do that, so I was just wondering…”
“Oh, crap. I was supposed to tell you yesterday but I forgot.” Will said. “He came by my place in the morning to pass me some stuff and he told me to let you know he’s going under, probably for a few days, so he’d be uncontactable. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Under?” You asked.
Will nodded. “Yeah, they do some undercover work sometimes. When they have to.” Will paused. “He can’t have his personal phone with him when he does. He’ll show up in a couple of days.”
You nodded, a little absentmindedly. “Yeah, thanks.”
"Please don't tell him I forgot to tell you. He will literally kill me." When that didn't elicit much of a response from you, Will paused. “Everything okay?”
You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, just needed to finish a conversation.”
Will studied you for a bit before he nodded again. “You know if you need anything…”
You smiled. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
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By the end of the week, you still hadn’t heard from Jay.
But everytime you felt your mind go there, you yanked yourself back, wondering when this had begun. When had you begun to rely on someone again, when you’d told yourself again and again that you couldn’t go back down that road.
The worst part was that you had no idea how this had all happened and why it was Jay that gave you this sense of stability, this sense of security. And now that you found yourself here, you had no freaking clue what to do, but you had to figure it out before you spoke to him again.
The only good thing about a crazy day in the ED was that you didn’t have time to dwell on these little things floating through your mind. You’d come out into the waiting room to help Connor update his patient’s wife when a commotion near Leah’s counter caught your attention.
“I’ve been waiting for over an hour!” You heard his fist bang on the table. “And I want to know why I’m still waiting!”
You took a deep breath, wanting nothing more but to head inside. But there was no way a guy like that was going to let you leave peacefully.
Before you’d even taken so much as another breath, he’d caught sight of your white coat and pointed at you.
“You! Lady! You’re a doctor. You see me.”
Maggie raised her eyebrows at you and you’d turned around to look at him, controlling your expression as best as you could.
“Sir, we have to see patients based on their conditions. If you wait a while longer, we’ll try to move things along.” You kept your voice patient, before you tried to turn to go back into the ED.
“Lady! I demand to see a doctor now!”
You felt your irritation rise. You had a four year old that behaved better than this.
You moved towards Leah, peering at his registration sheet and you nodded at her, noting his non-emergent symptoms.
“Sir, as we have told you many times, we have to see patients based on the urgency of their condition. Please wait your turn.” Your voice was stern now. He moved forward as if to confront you again but eyed Earl keeping a watching eye by the corner, as you stepped backwards.
You glanced at Leah who nodded, before you turned and headed back into the ED.
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You glanced at the clock as you pulled on your jacket in place of the white coat you’d been in all day.
“We’re going for drinks, can your babysitter do another few hours?” Will asked, as he closed his locker and pointed to Connor.
You gave him a smile. “Not today, she can’t work late. Sorry.”
Connor shook his head. “Come on, we can’t compete with a kid for her mom. We’ll do a kid-friendly one sometime.”
You laughed and nodded, grabbing your bag.
“Have fun guys!”
You headed out towards your car. It was already late, the streets felt a little darker than usual so you looked up at the sky for a moment before you continued walking. You’d been a little late at the start of shift thanks to Chloe's school, so you’d had to park your car a little further from the entrance.
You were about two cars away when you felt someone tug roughly at your arm.
Spinning around, you frowned at the man who was holding your arm so tightly it was starting to hurt. It took you a moment before you placed him again - the man screaming at Leah in the waiting room earlier today. The man you’d told to wait when he’d yelled at you demanding you see him then and there for a flu.
You glanced down at your arm, attempting to pull it backwards out of his grasp but he was way stronger than you were.
You could still see the anger flash in his eyes even in the dark as he stepped forward and you stepped backwards. He pushed you roughly before your back hit the hard wall of the external hospital wall. “What do you want?” It took you some effort to keep your voice steady.
“You’re really rude.” He commented, not really answering your question. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that rude women need to be taught a lesson.”
You could feel your heartbeat quicken as you tried again to tug your arm out of his grasp with barely any success.
He raised his other arm now and even as you tried hard not to, you flinched as you saw his palm come swinging down at you.
And then, nothing.
You opened your eyes again and there he was. You felt the rush of something that felt suspiciously magical, before your brain and mouth connected. “Jay.”
Jay didn’t turn to look at you, almost like he hadn’t heard you. He’d caught the guy’s arm midair and you were sure if he’d been even a second later you’d have already felt the impact.
"Step the hell back.” Jay growled, speaking each word slowly.
It was the first time you’d heard this much anger in his voice. You don’t think you’d even heard it that few times he’d spoken to Caleb. This was different.
“What’s it to you?” The man didn’t look like he wanted to back down.
Jay didn’t respond, merely glancing down at the badge attached to his waist. “I won't say it again. Walk away.” Jay looked pointedly at his other hand.
The guy wrenched his arm out of Jay’s grasp as he let go of your arm. Jay shifted, standing in front of you now. “If I see you anywhere near her again…”
The guy seemed like he was weighing his options but instead turned to leave.
Jay turned towards you now. “You okay?”
You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so.”
Jay exhaled.
“Great self-control there, Jay.” You said with a smile. “I’m not sure Will could have kept his cool.”
Jay smiled. “Oh, you have no idea the effort it took. If he’d actually hit you…” He paused. “I might have beaten the crap out of him.”
“ Oh Detective Halstead, you wouldn’t.” You teased gently, smiling as you watched the hard look in his eyes slowly give way to the gentle green eyes you knew so well.
Jay glanced down the street to make sure he was really gone. “Sorry I haven’t been in touch.”
You shook your head. “Will told me. Everything okay with you?”
Jay nodded. “Yeah, I…”
He was interrupted as his phone rang and you nodded at him as he answered it. You watched his frown deepen.
“I’ll be right there.” He said as he hung up. “Y/N, I’m sorry, I…”
You shook your head, smiling.
“You gonna be okay?” He asked. “Should I call Will?”
You laughed. “I’ll get home okay. Thanks for… I’m glad you were here when you were. Thank you.”
Jay nodded, squeezing your wrist a little. “I gotta…”
You nodded. “Be safe.”
Jay smiled and jogged towards his truck which was parked a little way away. Jay turned just as he was getting into his truck for one last look.
You raised your hand and waved, as he smiled and waved back before driving off.
You watched a little while longer as he drove away before you hurried to your car and sped off, taking two detours just in case before you got home. Truth be told, you were hoping you’d have the opportunity to talk and you had been this close to actually inviting him over. So you weren’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing he’d been called away.
The only thing certain tonight was one thing - the fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach and the race of your heart.
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donutloverxo · 3 years
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A Royal Scandal 3
Modern Royal King!Steve au
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(Image from Pinterest)
cowritten with @lizzygal​
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Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.
Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.
Pairing - King!Steve x reader
Word count - 7k
Story masterlist
Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.
Early that morning was no different.
Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.
Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.
You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.
Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.
Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?
Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.
He couldn’t even say what it was or why.
For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.
For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.
Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.
Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.
Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.
A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.
He’d had a beard back then he remembered.
A full bushy one.
One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.
“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.
He’d beamed.
Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.
“Indeed. Eleven to four.”
He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”
“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.
Making you roll your eyes.
On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”
He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.
More focused on the organizing task yourself.
Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.
“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”
And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.
Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.
Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.
The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.
Hungry.
That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.
In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.
Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.
Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.
Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.
You’d smelled so good that night too.
You always smelled good.
It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.
It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.
Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.
Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.
“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”
Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.
“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”
Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.
You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”
Steve could only imagine.
He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.
Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”
Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.
Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.
Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.
In his eyes, you were a saint.
“What’s with the question mark?”
Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.
Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”
Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.
He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.
Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.
A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”
Soundly you slept.
Comfortable. Safe. At peace.
Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.
Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.
Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.
A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.
On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.
Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.
Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.
Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.
Your signature was all swoops and swirls.
Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.
All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.
At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.
Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.
A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.
Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.
A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.
Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.
Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.
This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.
Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”
Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”
Stars.
So many bright and colorful stars.
Mmm.
Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.
Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.
Nothing.
Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.
Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.
For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.
Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.
You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.
His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.
You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?
Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.
You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.
Reality was always so different.
Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”
A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.
It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.
“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”
Up your hand flew to your chest.
Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”
His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.
Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”
In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.
Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.
Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.
He kissed you.
Did he really though?
Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?
For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.
He’d leaned closer to kiss you.
What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.
Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.
However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.
Another attempt at a kiss was not made.
Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.
Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.
Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.
Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.
Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.
“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”
For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.
A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.
Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.
“This is ok?”
“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.
Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.
Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.
And it wasn’t like you were complaining.
Far from it.
Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.
There really were worse ways to wake up.
Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.
This? This was soooo much better.
Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.
Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.
“Am I going to have to quit my job?”
It was something of a concern.
You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.
Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.
His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”
Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.
A grunt came from beneath you.
Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.
Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”
How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.
Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.
God did he want you to be his queen.
“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.
However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”
So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.
“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”
Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.
A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”
Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.
Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”
“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”
And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.
It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.
Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?
You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.
Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.
“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”
Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”
***
The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.
Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.
Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.
It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.
Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.
Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.
A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.
A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.
Some things males never grew out of it seemed.
“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.
Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.
She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.
Speaking of the devil.
As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.
Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.
Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.
She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?
Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.
She was queen at the time.
It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.
“Yes mother?”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”
Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.
No. That was not why she was here.
Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.
It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.
Hope and Janet?
Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.
All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”
Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.
She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.
Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.
“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”
Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.
Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.
“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”
Ah.
Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?
Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.
What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.
It clicked.
Like a light going off.
How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?
Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”
Silence.
Quiet.
Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.
“No mother.”
“But…”
“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”
And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.
Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.
“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”
Ah, so he did remember.
Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.
Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.
Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.
Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”
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nctsjiho · 3 years
Text
Resolve [Part 2 of ‘Explode’]
Click here for part 1
warnings: none, it’s just a bit longer and the angst of part 1 continues so...
❀ Taeyong decides it’s time for Dream and JiHo to make an end to their fight
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JiHo had spent the night over at WayV’s dorm. The chance of seeing Haechan after practise had ended wasn’t one she was willing to take. Johnny had sent Haechan over to the Dream dorm since he wanted the boys to reflect on what they had done and find a way to fix it. He was also slightly agitated and didn’t want to risk yelling at Haechan if he started whining.
A bit after JiHo had left the practise room, the dance instructor came back and had asked where the girl was and why everyone was looking so down. Doyoung had to explain the whole situation which brought the mood down even more. The rest of practise was a nightmare. It felt like it was never going to end. It also made some of the boys realise how JiHo not being there didn’t make much of a difference visually. Realising how JiHo literally wasn’t in any of the unit groups besides the OT24 group dance and some B-tracks which were never going to be performed live. But not having her there did still hurt, it just didn’t feel right.
Mark had checked up on Dream before heading back to his dorm. They all seemed to be coping with the aftermath differently. The unit’s leader wanted to help, but he also knew the boys were old enough to figure it out by themselves. This wasn’t just a small fight and he didn’t want to get too involved.
At WayV’s dorm things weren’t much better. JiHo had found her place in Ten’s bed, the older boy coming to check on her every so often. She didn’t really talk and at a glance she looked like she was going to be just fine, but the next morning she looked horrible. She didn’t get a wink of sleep and Ten knew, but whenever he tried talking to her she just shrugged him off.
They had breakfast together, Lucas and Yangyang trying to cheer her up with some jokes and when she finally smiled for a second the taller one didn’t hesitate to attack her with a hug. “JiHo please talk to us.” He whined burying his head in the crook of her neck. The girl just sighed and continued playing with the food Kun had prepared for her. “Lucas, let her be for a second.” The oldest said patting Lucas on the shoulder. “Please eat something okay? You haven’t touched any of your food yet.” He tried to coax her into eating and she just nodded before taking her first bite.
There were two options: One, have Dream and JiHo fix their problems on their own accord and suffering the possibility that the fight would not be resolved for months. Which would in turn take a toll on their practise and sabotage their comebacks, team work and a lot more for the whole group. Or two, do like they always have. Involve themselves in their problems to try and fix it as a whole group.
As all of NCT gathered in the practise room, Taeyong had made the choice by himself. Mark had noticed someone wasn’t there yet. “Where’s the choreographer?” He asked and everyone started to notice as well. “He’s coming in 2 hours.” Taeyong said walking to the middle of the room. “Why are we here then? I could’ve gotten at least another hour of sleep.” Lucas whined which earned him a slap to the arm from Kun. “Sit down kids, we have some work to do.”
Everyone had gathered around Taeyong in a circle, all clearly confused. He then looked at the Dream members who all looked like they either had been crying for hours last night or if they just rolled out of bed after a horrible night of sleep. He motioned for them to sit in the middle of the circle with a finger. They all hesitantly moved over to where Taeyong pointed. The leader’s gaze than settled on JiHo, who surprisingly looked a lot less dead. Taeyong however knew she wasn’t doing so hot because of the updates he received from WayV ever since she decided to sleep over at their dorm.
Without having to say anything she sat down facing the Dream members, her eyes holding no emotion. “Isn’t this a bit unfair? 6 against 1?” She chuckled sarcastically. Taeyong rolled his eyes. “I think what’s unfair is that the fight between the seven of you is bringing down the whole team. Don’t you agree?” JiHo wasn’t one to raise her voice but the leader’s words just didn’t sit right with her. “Excuse me? You act like I did something wrong. I’m the one who got accused for something I didn’t do! I’m the one who had 6 people screaming at me, acting like I’m the bad guy here! And I saw it in your guys’ eyes yesterday that you were starting to think it was true! I-” She stopped herself when she noticed what she was doing. JiHo had stood up and was yelling at their leader, everyone shocked at the sudden (but not surprising) outburst. “I’m sorry.” She gritted her teeth before sitting down again.
Taeyong had to admit that it was wrong of him to act the way he did. JiHo clearly didn’t do anything wrong, but just because this was now a known fact and the misunderstanding had been cleared up, didn’t mean that the conflict was solved. There was still a lot of tension between the two parties and it wasn’t going to get better if they didn’t address it.
“JiHo we’re sorry-” Renjun started, but Haechan quickly interjected. “It’s all my fault. I just heard you talk to Johnny and heard Jisung’s name and then you started talking about a maknae and I just jumped to conclusions, I shouldn’t have. I should’ve asked, but I was too mad...” JiHo couldn’t make eye contact with any of the boys. Jisung spoke up. “I do trust you JiHo, it’s just that-” “How could you say that if you just believed Haechan anyway? You should’ve asked me first.” It was the first time JiHo’s voice had given in. She sounded so hurt and it made all the members feel horrible. “I know... I didn’t believe Haechan at first, but he also wouldn’t lie to me so I felt conflicted.” It was silent for a bit.
“I just felt like no one was on my side. At least you guys have each other...” The older boys couldn’t watch this anymore, it was such a stupid thing to fight about but the implications were so much more serious. The lack of trust, feeling lonely even while having so many people around. “JiHo, you know I knew the truth.” Johnny spoke up. She didn’t dare to look at him. “We didn’t know that you felt that way.” Jaemin added. “But you just got mad at me without telling me why. Starting to ignore me and look at me like you hated me, and no one said anything. And I know it was so obvious that there was something going on but no one tried bringing it up. You all just waited for someone to explode and for us to start fighting.” JiHo was now talking to the older members. “I- I don’t know, I just felt like I wasn’t part of NCT anymore-” With that Haechan, Jisung and Renjun started bawling their eyes out. The damage they did was even worse than they initially thought. “Don’t say that.” Renjun’s voice hitched. He inhaled deeply after each word as if he forgot how to breath.
The other boys had to do everything they could to hold themselves back from going to comfort the younger members, they still had to talk everything through. Some of them even started crying themselves, wondering how it had gotten so far that one of their members didn’t feel like part of the group anymore.
“It’s almost obvious SM doesn’t want me to be in the group anymore. But I couldn’t help but feel like you guys didn’t want me either after what happened yesterday.” The girl had yet to cry even though she sounded so close to breaking down. She had never cried in front of everyone before, always showing her strongest side. 
A quivering call of her name left Jisung’s lips. He called out for his precious noona, asking what he could do to make her forgive him. The room stayed quiet for a while, everyone anticipating JiHo’s answer, but it never came. Haechan looked at her with hopeful eyes, moving closer cautiously before resting his hand on hers situated in her lap. Her breath hitched and her body jerked slightly at the sudden touch, causing everyone else to jump a little as well. “I’m sorry you couldn’t trust me-” She choked on her own mixture of words and tears. Haechan immediately pulled the girl into his chest, stroking the girl’s hair as he desperately rambled to her. “It’s not your fault”, “I’m sorry”, “I should’ve talked to you”, “Please don’t leave us”. The sentences became a jumbled mess between his painful cries.
It had become too much for everyone. They were either fighting back tears or openly crying, excusing themselves from the room. Taeyong looked down at the mess he had made, but when he saw all the Dream members surround JiHo and Haechan to apologise and tell her how she was in fact a member of NCT and nothing was going to change that, that’s when the leader realised it might not have been so bad after all. The girl had finally opened up and though just this moment alone wasn’t going to solve everything, at least they knew how she felt and it was a great starting point.
Jisung had taken JiHo’s hands in his holding them tightly as he apologised through tears. She gulped at seeing the younger boy like this and pried one of her hands out of his grip. This caused Jisung to let out a sob as he looked at the girl with a shocked expression, mind racing again with the thought she was still mad at him. She quickly placed her hand on top of his own, her thumb caressing the top of his wrist. “It’s okay Jisung-ah. I would never talk bad about you okay?” She looked at him with red cheeks and teary eyes, still trying to stay strong. He nodded quickly just staring back at her, still apologising.
An hour had passed with the younger members talking things out a bit more, JiHo still felt hurt by their actions the day prior, but she also understood where they were coming from. Dream really cared for each other so it was nice to see them have each other's backs. Jisung had now glued himself to the girl, following her closely everywhere she went until Taeyong had called her to talk for a second. He had to clarify to the youngest that he meant talking to JiHo in private, which caused him to hesitantly walk away.
“I’m sorry JiHo, I didn’t mean to make it look like you caused the fight. I also didn’t mean things to become so messy and most importantly make you feel like you weren’t part of NCT. I did a horrible job as a leader-” The girl interrupted him with a hug, knocking the air out of his lungs. “I know you didn’t mean it. I should’ve told you how I felt earlier. But everything is going to be fine now. Okay?” Her whisper made him feel so much more calm. “Okay.” He answered placing his arms over her shoulders and pulling her closer.
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meltwonu · 3 years
Text
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56. “You have no idea how much i want you.”
100. “What are you doing in my bed?!”
notes; FRATBOY!JOSHUA, a bit of cocky!joshua, oral(fem receiving), fingering, hair pulling, dirty talk, see i be answering yalls requests at any part of the year LOL ☠️ 😭💕 Also, I mentioned yesterday but I have a heavy workload this week so there won’t be a drabble this Wednesday! So unfortunately I won’t be online until Friday for the third double dip chapter! BUT! Since we’re in February now, my updated schedule is what we’ll be going by! 💕 I’ll make a formal updates post for those who might be confused! For now, thank you for requesting! Enjoy! 💕
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“What are you doing in my bed!?”
You quickly hop out of the bed, tripping on your own feet as you tug on the bed sheets to cover your naked body.
Memories of the previous night’s party flood your mind almost immediately when Joshua’s mostly naked form greets your bleary eyes.
“Mm... Mornin’, baby. Also, this is my bed so… I’d like the sheets back? It’s kinda cold.” There’s a sleepy grin on his lips as he waits for you; voice still groggy and laced with tiredness when he speaks. “Don’t tell me you forgot? You didn’t even drink last night.”
Your lips purse into a firm line; avoiding his stare as you slowly start to make your way back to the bed.
No, you most certainly didn’t forget the way Joshua’s hands roamed your skin all night. Or the way his hips snapped into yours so fluidly. Or the way every inch of his cock filled you up perfectly. Or the way he made you cum while you screamed out his name in unadulterated bliss.
“Hellooo? Everything alright in there, baby? You’re zoning out.”
“Y-yeah, sorry, just--just… I’ve, um, I--”
The words get caught in your throat as Joshua chuckles under his breath, nodding at your flustered expression when you sit down on his bed. “Was the sex that good? I mean, I know I got some texts telling us to quiet down last night but…”
“Sorry, I just, I’ve ne--never just… S-slept with someone out or nowhere l-like that...” You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping he doesn’t see through your little lie. “Not that it was bad, it was insanely good, just… Wondering where it came from.”
Joshua was the TA in one of your classes on campus and you might’ve been crushing on him for the better part of the semester. You just didn’t expect to end up in his bed, of all places.
“Oh, yeah. Me too. I’m usually one of the ones that never brings a girl back up here but… I like you. You’re cute and pretty funny in class too. I was kinda hopin’ on getting to know you better... Maybe not this fast though.”
“...I find that hard to believe that you don’t bring girls back here.” Muttering, you find your cheeks blooming with heat when Joshua smiles at you.
“I can prove it to you, if you’d like. Not everyone that lives here is a sleazeball, even if that’s hard to believe sometimes.”
The two of you share a laugh, finding yourself more comfortable now that you knew it didn’t seem like a one off time.
“Soo…” You start, “How do you intend on proving it to me then?”
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Your fingertips tangle into Joshua’s hair; eyes fluttering shut at the gentle kisses he presses against your inner thighs when he lays down on his stomach between your spread legs.
“Hmm… I know you said you didn’t forget anything about last night but… Why don’t I give you a ‘lil reminder, huh?” He kisses your skin as you shiver. “You seemed to really like it when I ate you out last night too. So cute when I made you cum on my tongue.”
Moaning, you clench around emptiness at his words, “D-did I? You should s-show me how you did it.. I, ah, s-seemed to have forgotten…”
Joshua smiles, even though you can’t see it from your position. “Of course, baby.”
You feel his tongue on you seconds later; a drawn out moan falling from your lips just as you throw your head back into his pillows. “O-oh, fuck, J--Joshua!” Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging on the locks when he drags his tongue through your folds. He drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit, letting the tip of his tongue circle your clit as you whine and grind down onto him.
He pulls away from you slightly, chuckling under his breath at how quickly you seem to respond to his actions. “You seem to remember how much you loved getting eaten out by me and my skilled tongue~”
“Ngh, I--I’m starting to remember you, ah, u-using your fingers too…”
“Oh? Did I? Were they good?” He responds back teasingly, already knowing the answer. “Did they stretch your pretty ‘lil pussy nice ‘n good for my cock?”
You nod feverishly, soft cries spilling from your lips at how quickly Joshua got your body hot. “I w-wanna feel them ag--again t-too…”
Joshua hums, leaning back down until his lips are ghosting against your skin again.
He peeks his tongue out, flicking the tip of it against your clit and circling the nub. You mewl in return, feeling yourself getting wetter and wetter with each passing second. He drags his tongue down to your soaking entrance, lapping up the wetness before he dips his tongue into your hole.
“O-oh fuck, p-please…”
He repeats the action a few more times; eating up the way your whines only get louder and louder before he drags his tongue back up to your clit.
“Now see, that’s what got us in trouble last night~” His voice is muffled against you and just as you're about your reply, you can feel his fingertips starting to glide through your wet folds as well.
“So, y-you want me, ah, to be q-quiet?”
“Oh, I didn’t say that. Be as loud as you want, baby. Let them know how good I make you feel with just my tongue on your cute ‘lil clit and my fingers deep inside your pretty cunt.”
He drags his fingers through your wetness, collecting it on his digits before he positions his middle finger at your entrance.
Joshua moans as he sinks his finger into your tight warmth, simultaneously sucking your clit into his mouth. The sensations are almost too much for you when your thighs clamp around his head and your fingers only tug on his hair harder.
“Oh, f-fuck, yes! God, y-you’re so, mmh, g-good with your t-tongue… Fuck, you--you have no idea how much I want you.” Joshua curls his finger inside of you; ego boosted slightly with your words. He slowly thrusts his finger into you as he alternates between sucking your clit into his mouth and circling the swollen nub with his tongue and it isn’t long before you’re begging him to add another finger.
He listens to your request, positioning his index finger next to his middle finger and sinking both of them into your soaking cunt as you cry out his name.
Your back bows off of the bed as you grind against his tongue and fingers; thighs clamped around his head and the heels of your feet pressing against his back as you make no efforts to keep your voice down.
“J--Joshua! Mmh, m-make me cum! Please, ah, I need t-to cum so--so bad!” The pleasure becomes unbearable when he starts to curl and scissor his fingers inside of you; fingertips grazing your g-spot as you whimper. “Fuck, p-please! Your f-fingers are, hah, fucking me so g-good!”
His phone starts to ping in the background as your words become a jumbled mess and you can’t stop yourself when you’re quickly thrown over the edge of an orgasm after a few more skillful flicks of Joshua’s wrist.
“J----Joshua!”
Your entire body locks up as you cum, toes curling against his back and thighs shaking around his head as he continues to thrust his fingers into you. He laps at your clit and works you through it; even when the grip you have on his hair becomes almost painfully tight.
Joshua moans against your skin, sending shivers running up your spine as the waves of pleasure wash over your body and your words start to mesh together.
His phone continues to ring incessantly even when you start to come down from your high; a sheepish smile on your lips when your shaky hands finally let go of his hair.
“F-fuck… ‘m sorry…” Joshua laughs from between your legs, pulling his soaked digits from inside of your pussy as you unclamp your quivering thighs from around his head. 
It takes you a moment to fully come down and catch your breath; head fuzzy and fingertips still twitching at the post orgasmic bliss. 
When he finally sits up proper between your legs, his hair is beyond messy and his lips are coated in your wetness. “Don’t be. You came on my tongue just as quickly last night too. Or did you also forget that too?” There’s a cocky smirk on his lips and you can’t help but watch as he brings his soaked digits to his mouth to clean off the wetness.
You shoot him another sheepish grin before you turn to peer at the phone still ringing on the nightstand. “Um, do you think you should get that or…”
Joshua rolls his eyes at it, “It’s probably the same shit from last night. Don’t worry about it.” He places his hands on your thighs, this time wrapping them around his waist as he scoots in close.
In this position, his cock is pressed up against you, snug between your folds as he grins down at you.
“Let me give you a refresher of last night too. Since… Maybe you forgot how good I fucked you? Or are you good on that? I know it’s hard to forget but...”
You match his grin, tuning out the ringing phone in the background as you grind against his hard cock. 
“Shit… You know what? I might’ve forgotten… Why don’t you remind me?”
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emilysshortstories · 3 years
Text
Steven Meeks x Reader, part 3
sorry i haven’t updated this in a while, work and my period have been kicking my ass. 
Words: 1059 (59, year it took place HA)
Warnings: sexual harassment
Listening to my uncle go on about Walt Whitman and Carpe Diem yet again was fun, even if I had heard it a thousand times before. Even more interesting was looking at the boys' faces that have never heard this monologue before, physically seeing it touch their hearts. I never really understood why my uncle loved teaching so much until that moment. 
Assuming that 2pm quickly became everyone's favorite time of the day wouldn’t be that absurd of a thought. It was my favorite, no question, but there was also no question about meal times becoming my least favorite. Specifically lunch, the teachers didn’t eat lunch with the students like they did breakfast and dinner, so that meant I couldn’t sit with my uncle and the students were a bit less supervised. This gave the boys a pass to make me their target, target for what? You may ask. Flirting is the answer. Charlie wasn’t the only flirt in the school. So during lunch I would constantly have boys trying to sit next to me, get a little too close for my liking, ask me out, and talk about me like I couldn’t figure out what they were doing. I never encouraged this behavior, but tried not to be rude, always saying no to the dates and eventually starting to ‘save’ seats for friends or my uncle. This only made the boys of this school start treating me like a prize, see who was the man capable to win me over. Consequently, the flirtations got increasingly more intense by the day, making me feel like a new animal at the zoo. I was always doing school work with a blank face to seem unapproachable, but that didn’t always work sadly. 
A boy, who approached me yesterday, came up to me, slid on my bench until he was so close that I could feel little droplets of his saliva on my neck, and said “Hey sweets!”. Same as yesterday. I cringed back away from him and said “First of all, my name is Y/N, second of all, could you not get so close to me? I asked this of you yesterday in case you forgot”. I said this in a strong tone to let him know I was being serious, but also putting effort into not sounding rude to hopefully not make him too mad. “Oh come on, I was just joking-” and what an utterly hilarious joke that was. “- can I sit with you?”
“Actually, I’m saving this seat for a friend”
“Really? You’re gonna do me like that? We all know you say that to every guy and no one ever shows up.”
“Well, sometimes they don’t show up, but I still think it’s nice to save spots for your friends”
“Alright, I can read a room-” Can you? “- Bye sweets” he says, leaning way too close yet again. I flinch, shoulders coming up to my violated ears with a frown on my face. 
I was getting really sick of this shit, and actually tried talking to my uncle about it. We were walking through the courtyard when Charlie and the gang came up to my uncle and I. “Oh captain, my captain” Neil said to grab his attention. Neil presented my uncle with his school annual and asked him about the dead poets society. Of course I knew what it was, it’s all Mike would talk about when the topic of highschool came up. So while he was talking, I zoned out while looking at meeks. He was so pretty, I wish he would sit next to me and ask me out. He’s the only one I find interesting anyways, plus it would get everyone off my ass. Bonus. 
When my uncle was done, we stood up and started to walk away. “You know they are gonna go tonight right?” I asked. “Well I would sure hope so!” he said with a smile. “I love you uncle Mike” I said with a laugh, leaning into his shoulder with a hug.  “Now the question is, which of the boys do I give my old book to?” he said while slinging an arm over my shoulder. “You’re gonna trust them with that?”
“Well of course, how else will they know what to read at the start?”
“You are insatiable uncle”
“Oh, clever word, you must be related to me”.
“AHH! I’m a dead poet!” “Oh that’s really funny Charlie” “Hey, right in here- Fuck.” Neil cursed at the sight of me, with a flashlight, laying down on a flat rock with my legs crossed. “Oh what, you really didn’t think I wouldn’t figure it out would you? Who else told Mike who to give the book to?” I asked while the other boys piled into the cave, all stopping at the sight of me. “Are you gonna tell?” Dick Cam asked bitterly. 
“Course not! I just didn’t want to miss out on anything. Can’t let you guys have all the fun!”
“I’m alright with it, we need someone to swoon.” Charlie said, walking further into the cave. 
“Yeah right.”
We all listened to everyone’s scary stories, poems, and more until Charlie presented us with an original piece. As soon as he opened up the picture it was written on, Meeks yelled “Charlie! What the hell is the matter with you!” and quickly put his hands over my eyes. Wow, nice hands. “It’s ok Meeks, nothing I haven’t seen before, I just hope you boys aren’t naive enough to believe that is realistic”. 
“See?! It’s fine” Charlie said before beginning his poem “-- They learn to love from me”.
“SWOON!” I dramatically yell and flop into Meeks’ lap like a fish. Once I landed I looked up at his wide eyes and gave him a bright look and started laughing. Everyone started to giggle as I pulled myself up. Everyone but Meeks, “Sorry Stevie” I say and nudge him with my shoulder. He smiles at that, filled with teeth and pink cheeks. Cute. We walked back to the school, actually rather danced. Meeks at one point taking my hand and spinning me around. So I hugged him back and dipped backwards when he put his arms around my waist, exposing my chest and neck to him. Screaming my intentions of course, but in that moment I didn’t care. I swooned. 
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nugnthopkns · 3 years
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i’ll tell you i was wrong if you dance with me
word count: 3.3k
warnings: explicit fem!reader, slightly unhealthy relationship moment (lack of communication), mention of infidelity, cursing, alcohol consumption, a fair bit of angst
recommended listening: fred astaire | adam brock
a/n: communicate with your partners!!! also yeah this is the song from lady bird. it’s a banger
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This seriously isn’t happening. 
You never fight with Travis. Communication comes easy between the two of you, but you also make it a priority to talk about your feelings. It keeps things from boiling over; both of you are known to unleash wicked tempers on occasion and have found being direct stops issues from occuring. Arguments still occasionally happen, but they’re typically over trivial things like what movie to watch or where you’re spending the holidays. Travis apparently forgot about the fact you talk to each other about things. 
He’d been upset when he came home from practice, but you were pretty sure he was fine after he woke up from his pre-game nap. Knowing he’s a superstitious person and has a lot of pressure on him to put up points, you had made the choice not to ask about what was bothering him. Throwing off his routine could have detrimental consequences. Tonight's game is tighter than it should have been, but the Flyers come out on top. Travis spends a bit more time in the penalty box than you would have liked, but everyone was getting chippy by the start of the third period. Claude tries to talk to him on the bench but he gets shut down. Whatever Travis was upset about before is still clearly bothering him, and it’s affecting his game. 
You’re following Travis home from the game, and can tell he’s uptight from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. As you wind through downtown Philadelphia you try and prepare yourself for any bomb that could drop. Chances are that when you reach your apartment things will explode. Maybe it’s nothing; Travis is fine and just wants to be a responsible driver for once. You pull into the free spot beside his car and see him walking towards the elevator, suit jacket balled up and tucked under his arm. This won’t be good. Trying to buy yourself some time, you take the stairs. Seven flights later you arrive outside your door; he left it unlocked, which gives you a sliver of hope things will be fine. 
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” you call into the darkness of the apartment. Your sneakers are left at the door and to retreat towards the bedroom, looking for a sign of life. You find one in the bathroom: the light is on. A gentle push on the door reveals your boyfriend is in the shower and ignoring you. 
“Trav?”
“Yeah,” he huffs, words muffled by him tossing his head back to rinse the shampoo of his hair. Apparently the shower isn’t as relaxing as he had hoped. 
You don’t bother to tread lightly, upset that he’s acting like a child. “You’re being an asshole. I get that you had a bad day, but you can’t take it out on me. I just want to help.”
Travis turns the water off suddenly. “Can’t help if you’re the problem,” he scoffs. 
His statement doesn’t make sense. You’ve done nothing out of the ordinary the past couple of days; nothing that would warrant the behaviour you’re receiving. “What do you mean?”
Shouldering passed you to exit the room, Travis doesn’t bother to respond. You’re beyond frustrated: partners in healthy relationships communicate, not show emotions like grade schoolers. “You’re not giving me the fucking silent treatment Travis. You gotta talk to me.” The bedroom is dark when you enter and you flick the overhead light on to see better.
“You really don’t know?”
“Of course I don’t know,” you seethe. “If I did know we wouldn’t be in this predicament because we’d be solving the issue.”
The glare you receive is sharp enough to cut stone. He pulls on a t-shirt, anger clear in the aggression he does it with. “Why did I have to find out from Carter that you’ve been getting coffee with your TA?”
You’re shocked. In no way is it what he thinks it is. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you sigh, upset that Travis would take someone else’s words at face value and not talk to you about it. 
“I’m dead fucking serious Y/N. You preach communication, but it looks as though you’re the one who hasn’t been doing enough talking.”
The room around you starts to spin. You can’t comprehend what he’s insinuating. “Wait, you think I’m cheating on you?” you ask. There has been a gross miscommunication error somewhere; never in a million years would you think of having an affair.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well what the fuck did you say?”
Travis tugs at the roots of his hair in frustration. He doesn’t answer immediately, pacing the length of the bed a few times. “I just–” he struggles to articulate his words. “I just said that you’re being a bit hypocritical, don’t you think? You’re standing here yelling at me because I didn’t voice my concerns, but you haven’t been talking to me about what’s going on in your life.” Travis’ tone is sharp, and it stings. 
It’s your turn to show how upset you are. Your hands curl into fists at your side, and you squeeze your nails into your palms before releasing them. “I do tell you what goes on in my life Travis,” your breathing ragged as you try to not lose your cool. “I ran into my TA at the coffee shop yesterday, and he paid for my drink because my card wouldn’t work. Didn’t think it was breaking news, sorry I don’t send you every single fucking life update that happens. What’s gotten into you?”
“You could have been cheating!” 
“But I wasn’t!” you scream, no longing caring about keeping up appearances. You can’t believe Travis would think that. It hurts. “And I never would! You know this”
He turns his back to you, like it pains him to look at you, but you don’t understand why. You're not the one suggesting infidelity. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” he seethes. 
“That’s all there is to say! There’s nothing to explain, no secret to uncover. I’m not in the wrong here.”
“And you think I am?”
You look at Travis like he has three heads. “Are you serious? You’re the one who’s so fucking upset over a situation that could have happened to literally anyone.” Your tone suggests that you’re exhausted with the conversation, and Travis gets the hint. 
He slinks towards the door, still visibly angry. “I’ll take the couch tonight,” he grits out before tightly gripping the doorknob and shutting the door with more force than needed. 
The bed doesn’t look appealing, full of much happier memories, but fighting with Travis has knocked any and all energy out of you. You gingerly pull back the covers and slip underneath. Tears trickle down your cheek as you toss and turn, trying to fall into some sort of slumber. However, your mind has other ideas, replaying the blowout. You can’t begin to understand why Travis is so bothered by the instance, and more importantly why it caused him to disregard a fundamental part of your relationship. There’s little movement from beyond the door, but you can hear the faint noise of a Johnny Cash record playing from the speakers in the living room. After hours of staring at the ceiling your eyes close and a fitful sleep follows. 
You might have gotten nine hours of sleep, but you wake up feeling exhausted. Fighting with anyone drains you, but fighting with Travis is especially terrible because it rarely happens. There doesn’t seem to be any movement from the other side of the door; maybe he’s still asleep. You refrain from heading into the kitchen, unsure of what will happen if you see him. After nearly twenty minutes you can’t wait any longer to start your day and pad into the main living space. It’s empty: no sign that Travis has been there for many hours. Guess you don’t have to immediately deal with the fallout of last night. 
A post-it note is tacked onto the fridge handle and your heart skips a beat. In Travis’ chicken scratch it reads I’ll see you at the gala tonight. We’ve got media all day and I won’t be back in time for us to go together. There’s no mention of the fight, and you can’t judge from a two sentence note whether or not he’s still pissed off. 
“Fuck,” you groan. “The gala.” Tonight’s the annual Flyers Give Back gala, and you’re expected to be in attendance. It’s not even a charity event; the organization is offering a chance for business men to chat up the players in hopes they continue to donate. You find things like these unbearable and tedious, but Travis does his best to make them enjoyable. Not knowing what page you’re on with him is going to be terrible. There’s a pretty good chance he’ll ignore you if he’s still upset. 
As if someone is reading your mind, the better halves group chat starts to explode. Everyone is chattering excitedly about tonight, and under normal circumstances you’d be excited to see them in such a relaxed setting. It’s been a while you’ve all hung out, but you can’t find yourself to contribute to the conversation. You mute the notifications and do your best to move on with your day. The rest of the morning is spent working on your thesis; mind numbing work that almost makes you forget about everything that happened in the past twenty-four hours. Once you’ve hit an acceptable word count for the day you shutdown your computer and make lunch. 
The grilled cheese sandwich you eat while watching a John Mulaney comedy special fulfills your appetite but doesn’t curb your dread. You decide to call your sister, hoping she can be a welcome distraction. Dialling her number you sink further into the couch cushions, wrapping yourself tightly with a blanket so that only your head is poking out. “What’s up?” she asks, and you hear her shuffle in the background, presumably to move somewhere more private. It isn’t normal for you to call her unannounced. 
You hold it together for approximately two seconds. The tears start and they don’t stop. Every emotion you’ve felt since getting home last night comes to the surface, and before you know it you’re sobbing into the receiver. 
“Woah, slow down,” she says. “Y/N, take some deep breaths.” When your breathing returns to a somewhat regular level she continues speaking. “What happened?”
It takes you nearly twenty minutes to tell the whole story because you’re so distraught. No detail is spared, and you go back much farther than is probably needed. You recount what happened after yesterday’s practice, pretty much the entire game, and the fight that followed. “I just don’t know what brought this on,” you sniffle. “We don’t fight, we talk about things. I’m not sure if I’m more upset at what he insinuated or at the fact he broke a cardinal rule.”
Your sister sighs, and you hear her breath fan in slight annoyance. You’re worked up about something kinda stupid, you know, but you can’t let it slide. “It’s probably a bit of both. So, what are you going to do?”
“What can I do? I know that we need to talk about what happened, but a public event is not the best place to do that. I also can’t not show up or ask Trav to ditch in order to figure this out. We have to be there.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out then.”
You really don’t. “What happens if he ignores me the entire night?”
She laughs and tells you to not to anything stupid, and to take your mind off of things tells you a story about your nephew eating dirt. It does the trick; you’re momentarily distracted and forget about Travis. You talk for a while longer before she has to go. “Miles is crying, will you be okay if I let you go?”
It’s your turn to laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you insist. A glance at the clock tells you it’s time to start getting ready. “I’ve gotta shower and start the process. Beauty is time consuming you know.”
Against your better judgement you open your text messages to see if there’s anything from Travis. His text thread is the same as it was yesterday and you’re disappointed. You had hoped that maybe he’d get bored between interviews and check in. With no new notifications you exit out of the application and pull up a playlist you hope will brighten your mood. The steam from the shower relaxes your tense muscles and warms you up. It’s comforting in the way a cocoon is; you practically have to drag yourself out of the bathtub. 
Your bedroom is cold and doesn’t offer the same respite as the bathroom. The music continues to float in from the hallway, and you allow yourself to get lost in it. It’s been a while since you danced around your room; it worked to cure sadness when you were a teenager. Hopefully the magic hasn’t worn off. You flail your arms, not caring how silly you look since no one is here to see you anyways, and scream along at the top of your lungs. After a few songs you feel better and return to the task at hand. The dress code is labelled as ‘black tie’ on the invitation, but that isn’t what you’re worried about. You own a million dresses for situations like this after being with Travis for so long. You don’t know what he packed to wear, and there’s a decent chance you’ll be pushed together for photos. Clashing colours will look terrible.
A quick glance through his side of the closest leaves you no clues, so you decide to be as literal as possible. Black is a flattering colour and works well with every colour combination. There’s a jumpsuit hanging in the back that catches your eye and you think it’s the perfect choice. After pulling it on you move back into the bathroom to do your hair and makeup. Everything is natural and relaxed; once again for the sake of potential photos. The clock strikes on the hour and you realize it’s time to leave. A pair of heels are slipped on and you order an Uber before locking the apartment and heading to the lobby. You had thought about driving yourself, but on the occasion that things don’t end well with Travis you’ll probably have more than a couple of drinks. 
The entire way to the venue your leg bounces up and down. It’s been years since you’ve been this nervous about being around the team. You’ve been with Travis for a few seasons now, and the organization has become a second family to you. No one is going to know about the fight and you worry they’re going to talk about your solo arrival. The outside of the convention centre is sharply decorated, and your driver lets out a low whistle at the extravagance of it all. “Thank you so much,” you gush, and exit the car. Thankfully no photographers are set up outside, and you dart inside without being seen. 
Once in the main event space, you scan for the bar. There’s no sign of Travis, which should make you more relaxed but doesn’t. What if there was an accident on the way to the venue? You have no idea where he was all or who he came with. Overthinking distracts you from your original goal, leaving you standing aimlessly in the middle of the room. 
“You look like you might need one of these,” Ryanne chuckles, handing you a champagne flute. You gladly accept and down it in two gulps. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, eyes scanning to see if your boyfriend has made an appearance. 
She sees right through your facade of calm and wraps you in a tight hug. “What’s going on?”
For a second time today you explain what happened last night. There’s no judgement from Ryanne as there might have been from your sister because she understands. Dating a professional athlete isn’t easy; things like this happen much more frequently than you’d expect. Perhaps it’s all the time spent apart that makes the occasional lapse in communication so apparent. She listens quietly, full attention on you. To your credit you don’t cry this time, slightly more numb to the situation to due more time passing. It still hurts a tremendous amount. 
“He’ll come around,” Ryanne insists. “TK is a little moronic sometimes, but he’d never jeopardize his relationship with you. You’re quite literally the most important thing in his life.”
 “I know. I’m just upset because the whole thing could have been avoided.”
She offers you a sympathetic smile. “I know.” Ryanne links her arm through yours. “Let’s go find something to snack on.”
You spend most of the night with Ryanne, and occasionally Claude when he can get away from the hot-shot businessmen. Travis eventually came in, flanked by Nolan, but was immediately pulled into the politics of the night. The two of you occasionally sneak glances at each other and you tell he’s uncomfortable. You can only hope it isn’t because of your presence. It’s nearing eleven; the party has become a much more relaxed affair, and the DJ is playing sappy love songs in an attempt to get the media team some good photo ops. An intern asks the Giroux’s if they’ll dance for an instagram story and they both look hesitant. “Go on guys, I’ll be fine,” you reassure. It’s the subtle push they need to enjoy a quiet moment together. 
As if he can sense you’re lonely and feel out of place, Travis approaches you. It’s tentative, like he’s petrified you’ll turn him away, but he comes regardless. Drinks are in each of his hands and he extends one to you. When you don’t take it he sets it on the table behind you. “Hi,” he says sheepishly, fiddling with something in his pocket. 
“Hi Travis.” You’re determined not to let his presence crack your resolve; last night illuminated a big issue and it needed to be dealt with. It’s proving to be difficult because he bumps a shoulder against yours and all you can think of is kissing him senseless. 
The song changes to a Bruce Springsteen ballad, and you recognize it instantly. It played at the coffee shop on your first date with Travis all those years ago. One look at him tells you this isn’t an accident, that he had requested it specifically for the two of you. “Dance with me?”
You sigh deeply, looking him in the eyes. “Trav, this isn’t going to magically fix things.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he pleads. “I fucked up so bad last night because I was being an idiot. I wrote down everything I would do differently if I had a time machine, look.” A hand reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a piece of paper filled with his nearly illegible print. “Just one dance, and then we can go home and talk about it like I should have suggested in the first place. Let me know we’re still okay.”
If you hadn’t been in public you’re sure Travis would have been in tears. It’s not necessarily a good look to cry in front of hundreds of sponsors. He has a reputation as the goofy boy who takes no shit to uphold. “You have a lot of talking ahead of you,” you say, and let him drag you onto the dance floor. Swaying in his arms you realize things are going to be just fine. Travis loves you and you love him; there’s nothing the two of you can’t work through. 
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
taglist: @jamiedrysdales​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)
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anightflower · 4 years
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Come and Find Me
Chapter One: I’m Stuck 
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I won’t lie when writing the cute parts of the story I listened to “I’m Stuck” by Noah Cyrus.  
Spencer Reid x Reader
Warnings: None 
Read Prologue here   Masterlist
You stumbled into your favorite coffee shop. You were a mess this morning and it’s all because your alarm decided to fuck you over and not wake you up on time. Luckily your body didn’t completely betray you, naturally waking up an hour later than you had planned, but still giving you a half hour to get to your meeting. 
You had screamed when you saw the time, this meeting could be your next big break, and getting there late was not how you wanted to start a new design deal. At a mere 23 years old you were still making your way up into the world. After graduating college a semester early you had worked your ass off and started your own independent interior design business. You focused on designing office spaces for big businesses using workplace psychology to create an environment that brought up productivity and reduced the stress of workers. 
Your business was slowly gaining traction, but the company you were meeting today could really put your name out there. 
You had planned to wake up early, put yourself together and center yourself over a cup of coffee, however, life can never be that simple. So here you were, quick light makeup and your hair in a simple bun rather than the elaborate “I am a professional” look you planned. The one thing you did have going for you was your outfit, a white blouse that complimented your figure and tan capri pants, with a strappy heeled sandal. You had made sure it was spotless and ironed before your big day today, so at least you had that going for you. 
“Oh darling, you look a bit out of it, are you alright?” Your favorite barista and dear friend Ava, asked, her green eyes filled with concern. 
“Av, you would not believe the hell of the morning I’ve had.” You groaned. “I woke up late today and I have that huge meeting I told you about and all of the things I had planned to keep me grounded and ready flew out the window.”
Ava let out a tsk sound and patted your hand. “Oh babe, in that case, coffee’s on me. Take a deep breath. You’ve been planning for this meeting for weeks and with that amount of work and dedication, you’re definitely going to knock’em dead.” 
“Ave, you are the light of my life.” You said, already feeling lighter than you did when you first entered. 
“Oh babe, I know.” She winked, brushing a stray purple bang out of her eye. “I want an update on everything afterwards, you’ve got my number! James will have your coffee ready for you at the other end. Good luck!” 
“Thank you! I promise I will!” You grinned and made your way to the other end of the counter, where your coffee was waiting. 
Knowing your order by heart, James had already started your latte the moment you walked in, you thanked whatever God listening that it was ready so fast. James gave you a shy smile and handed you the coffee. “Here you go.”
“Thanks James.” You gave him a kind smile and turned to leave. Glancing down at your watch, you realized you had ten minutes to get to your meeting, but luckily it was just up the block so you would get there right on time. 
But like you said nothing is ever easy. You weren’t exactly paying attention as you walked out of the store, you were double checking your bag to make sure you had everything, so naturally you slammed into someone, causing coffee to get all over your blouse.
You let out a yelp, while a large hand came out to steady you. “I am so sorry! Are you alright?” A male voice asked. 
“Well, aside from the fact that I have a meeting that could change my life in 5 minutes and now I look like a disheveled mess with coffee on her blouse, I’m fine.” You grumbled finally looking at the face of your accidental attacker. Your heart stopped for a moment. 
He was stunning. Shoulder length curly brown hair, caramel eyes, and a TALL, fit body.
He was clearly flustered as your eyes met. His face had a gentle dusting of pink across it and his eyes could barely meet yours. “I really am sorry, I wasn’t paying attention- uh- here!” He began to shrug off his cardigan. “This should be able to cover up most of the stains.” He thrust the sweater towards you. 
Now it was your turn to be flustered. “Oh no, really, I can figure something out-” 
“You said this meeting is supposed to change your life right?” He interrupted before you could stutter out anymore excuses. You nodded. “While I don’t want to be the person that ruins your life. Just wear it to your meeting and uh, how about we meet back here tomorrow morning and you can just give it back to me then?” He blushed a deeper crimson, as a big smile grew across your face. 
“I would love that, thank you so much.” You put on his cardigan and buttoned it up. He was right, almost all of the stains were covered. “How do I look? Professional?” You asked him.
“Beautiful- I mean yes, professional, you look great!” He smiled, pushing a shoulder length curl behind his ear.
You blushed, but quickly forced yourself to regain your composure. “So I’ll meet you here at 7 tomorrow-” You paused looking at him for his name. 
“Dr. Reid, well, Spencer, call me Spencer.” 
“Spencer.” You smiled. “I will see you tomorrow then.” 
That was the first time you met Spencer Reid.
________________________________________________________________
The next morning, Spencer arrived 30 minutes early to the coffee shop to get a table, he felt fidgety and nervous. He hadn’t even caught your name yesterday before you left and he felt like an idiot. Of course he bumps into the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, spilt coffee all over her, AND forgot to ask her her name. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t even show up, it’s not exactly the best first meeting. 
30 minutes later when you walked in, he thanked a God he didn’t even believe in. You looked less bewildered than you did yesterday, but no less beautiful. 
You had chosen to go for a business casual look, your hair curled and flowing past your shoulders, a deep red blouse, black denim jeans, and black heeled boots. You had Spencer’s cardigan draped over your arm, you had made sure to wash it before giving back to him. 
You searched around the patrons until your eyes met Spencer’s, your whole face lit up as you made your way over to him. 
You had no idea that somebody else was watching you as you made your way over to him. You were too distracted by Spencer to feel the angry gaze that burned into your back.
“Hi.” You said shyly as you sat down. 
“Hey.” Spencer said smiling at you. 
“Were you waiting long?” You asked, a concerned look crossing your face.
“Oh no, not at all, I just came a few minutes early to get us a good seat.” Spencer lied, not wanting you to know how early he actually came. 
“Well you choose right, this is the best seat in the house. It’s right by the counter where you pick up coffee, but it’s the perfect window seat to people watch.” You explained. 
“Yeah, did you know coffee is actually a fruit?” Spencer asked you. “They’re actually the pit of a berry and grow on a bush. 
You let out a giggle, “No, I had no idea that was even a thing. At least I can use that as an excuse when I get chastised for drinking too much. Where did you learn that?” 
Spencer blushed. “I tend to pick up random knowledge here and there. Which reminds me, I never got your name yesterday before you ran off.” 
“Well Dr. Spencer Reid, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You grinned offering him a hand. “No fancy title, but I am doing my best for simply being a Miss.” 
Spencer would usually avoid handshakes due to all the germs, however he wanted nothing more than to shake your hand, which was warm and soft. 
“(Y/N).” He tested your name out on his tongue. You smiled. 
“Have you gotten a coffee yet?” You asked him, getting up to head to order.
“I had one a bit earlier, but I could use another one.” Spencer answered, getting up to follow you. 
As you approached the counter you tried to ignore the smug look Ava gave you, praying she wouldn’t say anything. She gave Spencer a not so subtle up and down look, checking him out and obviously finding him attractive. You gave Ava a stern look that told her not to say a word. 
She just gave you a wink. Spencer had picked up on all of this, his profiler skills not missing a thing. A small smile crept across his face and he swallowed back a laugh. 
You gestured for Spencer to go first, “I’m buying, to thank you for letting me borrow your sweater yesterday.” 
Spencer looked at you in bewilderment. “No way! If anything I’m buying for destroying your coffee and spilling it all over your blouse before your ‘life changing’ meeting!”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Spencer, just order the damn coffee. I promise you it won’t break my bank. Especially after I got the design yesterday.” You grinned. 
 Ava let out a squeal. “You did not! Oh my god, I knew you could do it girl! All of your hard work paid off!” 
Spencer’s face lit up. “Congratulations! I’m glad our collision didn’t ruin anything.” 
You let out a laugh. “If anything I think your cardigan brought me good luck, I even got a couple compliments on it. I may just have to keep it.” You teased 
Spencer’s heart warmed at the idea of you wearing his clothes. “Well if it brought you that much luck, maybe I’ll just let you keep it.”
A voice behind the two of you cleared their throat. “Are you guys going to order? Some of us have places to be.” 
You glanced behind you at the woman, a small line had apparently grown behind you and Spencer.  “Sorry about that. Ava I’ll just do my usual. Do not let Spencer pay.” 
Ava raised her hands defensively. “I’m just here to make coffee love.” 
“I’ll just do a large coffee with extra cream and a lot of sugar.”  Spencer said. 
You went to grab your wallet from your purse, but Spencer cut you off, cash already in hand. 
“Spencer.” You whined and Spencer just shrugged. 
As you made your way to the counter, you found it a bit strange that James had just left your coffees there. Usually he would at least wait a moment to say hi before taking off to make more orders, but you shrugged it off, they did have a line right now so he probably had to focus on getting the coffees out to customers. 
Though the two of you only got to spend about an hour together, the two of you had immediately hit it off, completely unaware of the eyes that had been burning through you as they watched throughout what you and Spencer would later consider your first date. 
_______________________________________________________________
From there it was a whirlwind of dates snuck between cases and your design jobs. After a little over a month Spencer had asked to officially call you his girlfriend and you had obviously accepted.  
It was ridiculously cliche how quickly the both of you had fallen for each other, but you had just seemed to click right away. You loved Spencer’s logical mind that went on and on with random facts, he loved your creativity and energy. Your minds worked well together, helping each other out when the other got stuck. 
As your relationship progressed, you found yourself spending more and more time at each other's apartments.
“Ava, he's just a dream. I’ve never felt like this with anyone ever.” You explained joyfully. 
You had sat in your regular window seat, while Ava remained on the  other side of the service counter. It was a bit slow in the shop today, so she had come over to get all the details on “your smokeshow boyfriend.” Since she was the manager of the shop and beloved by her boss, she could get away with it.
“Oh hon, if he has a brother, let me know.” She purred, sneaking a glance over her shoulder to check on James who was holding down the fort for her. The boy stood by the register, poor thing looking a bit bored. 
James was a year younger than you and apparently starting grad school, but his shyness made him seem so much younger that you felt this slight protectiveness over him even if you only knew him from around the shop and stories from Ava. 
His eyes met yours and you gave him a sympathetic smile. He blushed deeply and turned away, scampering to busy himself. 
You looked back at Ava, giving a little nod towards James, “What about James? He seems sweet and he’s cute.” You waggled your eyebrows at her. 
Ava snickered. “(Y/N/N), he is sweet, but way too shy, he can barely look me in the eye. I need someone who’s more of a dom if you know what I mean.” She smirked. 
You pouted at her. “Poor James.” 
Ava shrugged, “He’ll find his someone. Anyway you’re switching the topic, back to your dreamboat. You said he was an FBI agent? That’s heroic and sexy.” 
You rolled your eyes at her. “Yes, he’s part of the Behavior Analysis Unit. They create profiles to help solve different criminal cases. It’s actually amazing. Spencer is giving a lecture about it at a college this Friday if you want to come with me.” 
“I’ll come, but only if I get to officially meet your sexy doctor superhero boyfriend.” Ava smirked. 
“Well obviously.” You smiled. 
________________________________________________________________
The boy’s breathing was heavy as he struggled to control his anger. He watched the Doctor’s tall form strutting across the stage, his long brown hair swinging back and forth as he broke down profiling and the criminal cases he and his BAU team had solved. 
From where he sat in the lecture hall he could watch the doctor while also keeping an eye on you. You were sitting near the front, your friend by your side.  It was hard to miss her with her deep purple hair, that’s how he always found you. Though to him, you outshined everyone in the room. Even the ridiculous doctor. 
He growled to himself as he observed your look of awe. He knew you two had made your relationship official. He knew almost every detail. Like how last weekend, the Doctor had come home early from a case and had surprised you with your favorite flowers: pink dahlias. You had spent the whole rest of the weekend together; you had brought him to your favorite Thai place, then went to both of your favorite bookstores. He knew everything. 
He knew where you lived, your schedule, the design projects you were working on. He watched and he listened. He followed you home some days. Other days, he would simply wait outside your apartment building. He knew what window to watch if he wanted to catch a glimpse of you. 
The worst days are when the Doctor would be with you. He would watch as you two joked around and kissed, it made him sick. 
He didn’t like the Doctor. He hated hearing him ramble on to you. Fact after fact, never shutting up. But he understood him as he had researched him, found his accomplishments; he was a prodigal, graduating high school at the age of 12 and earned three PhDs. He worked for the FBI, catching criminals and profiling them. The Doctor constantly had something to prove, how could you be with a man so weak?
The Doctor was someone who could hardly befriend anyone besides his books, so how had the Doctor gotten you, when he had always been there? The Doctor did not deserve you, the Doctor could not give you what he could. Yet here you were, giving this man a ridiculous moon-eyed look that he did not deserve. 
He couldn’t take it anymore. He got up and left. 
He made his way down the hall towards an all-too familiar office, one that he practically lived in. 
He was greeted by his usual cheery eyed professor, Professor Irving. 
Never one to miss anything, Professor Irving raised an eyebrow. “You’re back early, how was the lecture?” Professor Irving asked. “Isn’t that Dr. Reid something else?”
“He’s alright. Someone worth looking into for sure. I left early to get ahead of these reports you wanted me to help grade, I do have a life outside of classes.” 
Professor Irving smirked at him. “Son, I have known you too long, the only three places you go are classes, your job, and your apartment. I was hoping this lecture would show you how much the world has to offer, I mean look at Dr. Reid! He was one of the youngest to ever join the BAU-”
“ENOUGH about Dr. Reid!” He growled, interrupting his professor. 
Professor Irving just stared at his student, shell-shocked. 
The boy shook his head and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry professor, that was uncalled for, I have just been stressed lately.” The boy began picking up the papers he had to grade. He wanted to get through some of these as quick as possible, that way he could spend his weekend with you. 
Professor Irving solemnly nodded. “I understand. I know you’ve been stressed lately, is that girl of yours acting up still?”
The boy sighed as he shrugged on his bag full of student’s reports. “Something like that. Listen, I know you said Dr. Reid is going to continue to come back and give lectures every few weeks or so. I will go to those ones and actually stay for them. Who knows? Maybe it will help me with my thesis paper. I just- I just can’t focus tonight, but I will do better. I promise.” 
Professor Irving nodded. “Of course, let me know if there is anything I can do to help.” 
The boy nodded then left the room.
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