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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

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as if (part 3)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: reader isn’t keen to playing the usual games between her and eddie after how she felt sunday night, and eddie can’t stand losing her attention. PICK WHAT ENDING YOU WANT AFTER.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 8,704 words (9,272 total words with the fluffy ending, 9,516 total words with the angsty ending)

content/warnings: swearing, SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, breeding kink, mocking, teasing, biting, dacryphilia, groping, pet names (doll face, princess), degradation, some embarrassment, yearning, menophilia, angst :(((, feelings :(((, fluff(what? who said that?). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: thank you for all the love :( i’m truly so surprised and grateful and just super flattered so thank you!! i hope i didn’t fuck this up by giving it crap endings sobs. i saw some were interested in a bit of a better look into eddie’s thoughts/feelings so i hope those lil parts are good! i’m considering the occasional blurb in the future about them tho so 👀 OH ALSO!! the past week or so tumblr had a bug on their app that cut off the ends of my posts >:( so I’d appreciate it if you could look back to double check you caught the full ending so you get the proper experience! okay i’m shutting up now!

part one - part two

You weren’t as responsive to his teasing that Monday…or, well… just about the rest of the school week so far, for that matter. You blamed your mood drop on his indifference, and the cramping that you assumed was only from this weekend. You had been sure it was just your cervix making its opinions on Eddie known, but then—after your second sugar pill of the week—you got your period Wednesday night. This culprit seemingly just as likely for that aching in your lower abdomen and back. It was welcome evidence that your birth control was working, but the appreciation for its presence didn’t last long with all the cramping and the bleeding. You hated getting your period, no matter how many older women reminded you of your “connection to Mother Nature” and “the beauty of the womb.” It’s messy and painful and almost always broke out your face.

So no you aren’t playing Eddie’s usual games—instead going silent on him or answering in an empty murmur. Part of you worries it’s going to all build up to one particularly heinous act, but he surprisingly didn’t get worse. He only bothered you with the same old stuff more frequently. By Thursday he’s pestering you constantly with his teasing, and his grabbing, and honestly? Just about every trick in his sick little book which were usually tastefully sprinkled throughout the week.

“So you’re not talking to me? Playing hard to get or somethin’?” He whispers from behind you in the lunch line. You grab a saran-wrapped cookie and put it on your tray.

“What? You on your rag or something?” Eddie scoffs in response to your ever freezing cold shoulder. He’s out in the tundra these past couple of days. You make a face and continue moving through the line.

“Come on… don’t fuck me and forget me, babe. You’ll break this ol’ cynic’s heart and I’ll never recover.” He teases with a wide smile, hand placed over his heart before it drops to settle on the small of your back and gradually travel down to cup your ass. He’s pleasantly surprised that you’re not gently nudging him away like you had the last time he attempted his usual lunchtime groping, but something feels different. He glances down as he flips up your skirt only to reveal small shorts in the same pattern of your dark, plaid skirt. Your worst nightmare is bleeding through a light-colored pair of pants or skirt, so you always wear darker clothes on your period, and you trade skirts for skorts in favor of the added coverage.

“What the fuck is this shit?” He scowls, tugging at one leg of the shorts.

“It’s called a skort. We’ve had this conversation before.” You sigh, thanking the lunch lady as she hands you your tray and eyes the metalhead trailing behind you.

She thinks he resembles an abandoned puppy who grew mean and practiced his bite and his bark just to follow after you with his tail between his legs. If she had any genuine interest in connecting with the student body she fed 5 days out of the week, she might’ve made a playful joke about you having him whipped. But she didn’t care that much.

“I don’t think we have.” He grins, wondering if you even noticed you let yourself talk to him.

“You do it every time I’m on-“ You catch yourself almost admitting you were on your period, which would certainly only pull new harassment from him, so you pretend to correct a simple mistake. “In. Every time I’m in a skort.”

He hums disapprovingly.

“Yeah, well… I…” He trails off as you simply walk away from him to your usual spot in the cafeteria. You don’t bother to stay at his table you two reached just for him to finish making some crude joke before ultimately shooing you away anyway. “Okay… or be a bitch.”

He grumbles that last bit, landing into his usual spot at the head of the table. A few of the other Hellfire members are still staring even when he clearly takes notice.

“Can I help you?” He snaps, everyone who had been staring immediately looking down at their food. He huffs, adjusting his position in the chair to get more comfortable and lets his gaze move over to your table. You’re sat so pretty it’s like your image could actually advertise such a crappy plastic chair. The way your ankles are crossed underneath you, book cracked open on the table with all of your attention on it as you sat with your body leaned into the table. Your food was hardly touched due to a pang of nausea that he was completely unaware of.

“You know if you like her maybe you shouldn’t pick on her so much.”

Eddie grimaces at the comment that’s—in his opinion—beyond a disregard for his rank at this table, icy glare on the curly haired freshman. There are panicked faces and soft muttering around the table showing he isn’t the only one taken aback by this.

“I…” the boy falters, putting the spoonful of pudding he’s about to eat back down. “I just mean if… if you like her. I dunno… you’re kinda mean to her, Eddie.”

He eats his scoop of pudding now, his bold words inspiring the wiry one that always sits next to him. Eddie’s burning glance flits over to him now that he’s speaking, his expression remaining unimpressed with etches of frustration in the shadows of his facial features.

“Yeah, which is actually totally weird cause you’re not like that at all.” The brunet speaks in a rapid ramble like usual. “Like, you took me and Dustin and Lucas under your wing cause we were new and weird and alone and stuff like that—no, I know Lucas has been ditching Hellfire for the jocks, but anyway— you’re always talking back to those asshole jocks—which is totally cool—so I don’t get why you’re not like that with her.”

“I’m sorry, I must be confused.” The man spoke with sarcastic interest, a sinister smile breaking out onto his face. “Are you two talking to me? About something that is, quite frankly, none of your business?”

The two boys look at each other, the nerves shared between them tangible. Eddie raises a brow and tilts his head when they face him again. Still silence. Mike swallows anxiously.

“Well?” He sneers, flicking some of his trail mix at them.

“Sorry, Eddie…” They say in unison as he chews slowly, staring them down. He rolls his eyes as his body slowly relaxes again in his spot and he glances at you again. You were at least breaking off pieces of your cookie now, still reading your book.

“She’s not new or weird or alone anyways. She’s always with the smart kids.” He states, before holding up a hand as his gaze returns to the pair. “Not that I’m inviting you two shitheads to stick your noses in my business.”

The freshmen, along with a few others at the table shift to look over at you. You’re still engrossed in whatever you’re reading and you looked miserable, even if you were enjoying a good book. You look tired.

“Dude, literally no one is interacting with her. There’re the Jacobson twins talking at one end—probably still fighting over what’s the right answer to the equation from algebra class (it’s zero, by the way). Then there’s Richie and Greg from advanced calculus. Some people I don’t know…” Dustin mutters that last part before continuing, “And yes technically speaking there are a few girls sitting with her, but they’re not even talking. They probably don’t even know her.“

Eddie stares him down, the conversation still on you burning away at something inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about you or how lonely you look. He doesn’t want to talk about inviting you over. And he certainly doesn’t want to talk about how mean he is to you, cause he has no interest in trying to break down the intricacies of the crossover between bullying you and fucking you. Especially to freshmen.

“Just saying.” Dustin finally sighs in defeat, clearly getting no response from the DM sat at the head of the table. “But seriously, tugging on a girl’s pigtails cause you like her is completely grade school.”

Eddie had figured that having sex would change things between you two, but he imagined it changing for the better. Things like fucking you in the janitor’s closet or in the back of his van in the parking lot. Feeling you up between classes. Being so fucking mean to you all day until you were all wet and needy for him by the time that final bell rang.

He certainly didn’t imagine this.

At the start of the school week, Eddie didn’t entirely notice your lack of participation. Just that something felt… off-kilter in your interactions. It had been on Tuesday night that he realized nothing felt right because you weren’t glaring at him or shoving him away or pouting up at him. You didn’t even turn your head when an object was flicked at you, you just kept your eyes on the chalkboard.

Now he isn’t particularly well known for his critical thinking with… well… anything other than music, DND, and—subsequently—the math that came along with both hobbies. And, of course, selling drugs. So it’s somewhat understandable that poor Eds didn’t even realize what caused the imbalance for a whole day or two. Once he realized it though, it only frustrated him further. It irritated him that you weren’t playing the game, and it irritated him that it bothered him so much in the first place.

Why aren’t you snapping back at him? Why are you ignoring him, and if you even do look over: why was it always with a sad glance? Why, when he toyed with your skirt on Monday did you tilt your head to the side and quietly ask him to please leave you alone? When he saw you first thing Monday morning with circles under your eyes that were barely disguised by drug store concealer; Why, when he leaned into you as he passed you in the hall with a quiet “Something keep you up last night?” Did you only give him a passing glance with lips pressed together in what might’ve been an attempt at a small smile just to fall flat with that dull look in your eyes.

Being how he is, his game plan had been to keep bugging you constantly. Wear you down until you were finally glaring or giggling or whining, and everything could be back to the way it was. Maybe you were just suddenly playing hard to get. Being a teasing brat who would eventually have a smirk sneak out so he knew you were toying with him, and he could make you pay for it later. That smirk never quirked up your lip though. You were still such a rainy cloud drifting through the school.

The little twerp got to him at lunch today, too. He wonders now if maybe you were sick of the way he acted, and realized you want deserve someone a little less inclined to pigtail-tugging and a little more open and romantic. But why now? He thought you enjoyed it all. That’s why he wasn’t expelled already. That’s why you fucked him and called him for more. Right? Sitting in his van instead of attending the last class of the day, Eddie rubs his hands over his face and lets out a frustrated groan. He feels something crucial missing in him at the fact that he’d rather pull teeth than drop down his smug and playful demeanor even for a second and show you that he’s yours.

He noticed you were pretty when you were a sophomore, but not much else. Now in your senior year with him, god—you aren’t even pretty. You’re fucking devastating, and he knows his methods of showing affection aren’t something that will stand the test of time. You’ll grow tired and fuck it, he’d be living up to that Munson name if he has to see you with someone else—probably wind up serving time right alongside Pops after leaving some guy in the hospital. So maybe there were tweaks to be had. Even if he’s bitter and reluctant about it. (And did I mention bitter?)

Eddie pulls his hands away from his face at the faint sound of a bell, letting the side of his head fall against the window with a solid thunk as he awaits the crowds of students rushing out of the school.

You’re passing by others on your way out of the building, just as relieved as everyone else to be going home for the day—not that your excitement showed. It’s more of a calm relief to be heading to your room again than everyone else’s bubbly enthusiasm to make plans for the rest of the day. (When they should be getting their assignments done after all it’s not Friday yet, you think, but maybe that’s just because you evidently have no life.)

Making your way through the parking lot, a loud horn makes you jump. Your eyes wild and your heart up in your throat, you look around until you spot Eddie laying on his horn with his tongue partially sticking out off to the side. He lets up the second you lock eyes and laughs.

“Need a ride? Gotta couple of good options.”

You huff, trying to ignore his filthy innuendo and shake your head. He groans, settling his head back against the head rest of his seat while you start walking away.

“What the fuck is your problem? Jesus fucking Christ!”

You keep walking, hearing his car door open and the sound of his sneakers on the pavement. His car buzzes irritably at its door being left open while running, but he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t care about anything, really. He rests a hand on your shoulder to turn you around.

“’m just not in the mood, Eddie.” You snap the second you’re facing him.

But you’re always in the mood, he wants to argue as if that made a difference right now. He lets out a long breath that puffs out his lips as he decompresses, arm bent up to rub his hand on the back of his neck. It’s evident that he’s not used to this, and doesn’t have a clue how to go about it. You eye him in that moment, waiting for him. Waiting for something that made that ache in your chest dissipate and the hole it leaves be filled with a light warmth. Then you’re ready to give up on waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to happen when he suddenly dips down and drapes you over his shoulder all in one fluid motion.

“I- Eddie-!“

“I- Eddie- I-” He mimics, clearly out of habit and opens the back door to his van to plop you right on top of a random cushion nestled inside. It looks like it’s just a single couch cushion and you wonder where he got only one. Is it from an old couch that was getting tossed anyways? Did he steal it? Who steals a singular couch cushion from the seat of a sofa? And what was that stain on the corner? You’re shifting away from it as he climbs in after you, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips again until the door is shut and he’s settled against it with a sigh.

“Yoo-hoo.”

“What?”

He scratches his jaw as he looks over at you then points at the stain you were avoiding.

“Yoo-hoo. The drink. That’s what the stain is from.”

“Oh… okay.”

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes going wide as he fights the urge to roll them while he stares up at the ceiling of his vehicle, and then he finally speaks up again.

“Why are you being all…” He gestures his hands out in a odd way, flopping them a bit before settling them on his legs again. He sighs, tilting his head down and looking over at you again. “I don’t fucking know… you’re not being fun this week.”

Your nostrils flare and your brow creases with a pulse of rage at his words.

“Oh I’m so sorry that I’m not playing your game, Eddie. For your information, yes—as you said so elegantly before— I’m ‘on my rag’ and don’t exactly feel like dealing with you.”

Despite the tone you’re taking with him, a grin is pulling at his face and a few laughs bubble from his chest that were almost like little amused giggles. God, he missed getting you all worked up.

“What? Never got it before?” He suddenly questions.

“I- What?”

He snickers.

“Your rag. The crimson tide. Never ridden the cotton pony before?” He’s having too much fun with this and your face is getting all hot.

“Cause I kinda doubt it. Y’know…” he gestures to your form, “The idea that you haven’t gone through puberty yet sounds fake to me, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well you’ve never acted like this before so unless this is your first week of Carrie...” He hisses an inhale through his teeth.

“My condolences, but look at it this way: You’re finally a woma- hey!” He’s laughing until he’s dodging the random work boot you toss at him—the sight of him scooting away from the projectile actually getting a giggle from you.

“Those ‘r for the garage, doll. Heavy duty shit, can’t be throwing those.” He chastises as he waves the shoe at you, but there’s a weight that’s lifting from him. He got you to just sit and talk to him, and even made you laugh. Even if you’re biting the inside of your cheek now to try and refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your smile. How are things like this right now? Shouldn’t he be bending you over his knee for not acting the way he wanted you to? Shouldn’t he be angry? Shouldn’t he be making you cry?

“I’ve gotten my period before.” You state simply. Eddie puts the boot down, dropping his head back against the interior of his van as he looks at you expectantly.

“Then what? What’s with the bitching and the ignoring and the crybaby shit?” He asks bluntly, making your brow furrow again.

“And not even the good crybaby shit,” he continues in a softer tone as he makes his way over to you, “Where’s my pouty girl, huh? Where’s my brat?”

My. My. It’s making your head swirl, his words and proximity putting up a good fight against this latest impulse to be cold to him. He’s settled in front of you and pulling you forward by your hips.

“Don’t wanna talk about it…” You murmur because he should know. He should’ve automatically known the second he left your room that he fucked up when he didn’t kiss you.

“No? Do I gotta bully it out of you, baby? Should I keep up with what I’ve been doing or are you gonna keep pissing me off with that silent treatment shit if I do?”

Watching your expression, his hands settled on your hips start to massage his fingertips in small circles against your lower back. A sigh falls from your lips before you can even stop it, melting from his touch. He’s massaging that spot that’s been tied up in knots the past couple of days, and taking care of it perfectly. Just when you think he’s suddenly a completely different person he stops the movements entirely. That familiar pout that he loves pulls at your lower lip, clearly disappointed by the loss of his kneading.

“Gonna tell me?” He coos, tilting his head.

Your lips part then close again, faltering on if you should just tell him. He mimics the motion then your pout before grinning at you again. You stay quiet, a new conflict arising inside your head. Should you just tell him and move forward? Should you let him suffer until he figures it out? He deserves to suffer in your book, but who knows how long it would take for him to realize. The man has failed his senior year twice already.

“No? Okay, doll.” He’s separating himself from you now, moving to a corner of his van to start digging through some random stacks and piles there.

He’s going on about how he’d help if he could, but he guessed that won’t happen now. How if only you’d cut lil’ ol’ him a break. His theatrical and bitter words are coated in a soft tone and playful, exaggerated sighs. He’s having all the fun in the world trying to tease you until you just sigh and admit whatever your major malfunction is. It’s lighthearted in comparison to his usual teasing, but even this starts bringing the tears forward.

You hate that he doesn’t know. That it clearly didn’t mean enough for him to notice. You hate that he pulls you in all smooth and sweet to get you intoxicated on him just for him to laugh over it and leave you alone again. You hate how he’s suddenly making you feel cared for just for him to go away again cause he isn’t getting what he wants. Now you’re desperately trying to hide the fact that you’re crying as all of your feelings and aches and pains of this week rush through you.

Sure, he’s seen you cry before but it was never like this. It was teary eyes from frustration or, recently, the occasional sob from how good he made you feel. It’s never been breaking down after a hard week. It’s never sobbing because after all this time the two of you finally cracked, and you’re scared you’re the only one increasingly enchanted every passing second since that first kiss. It was never hiccuping sobs that you were doing your best to push down. Your face is burning, your sight blurry even though tears kept rolling down your cheeks. It’s like there’s a never ending supply to stream down your face and still keep your vision bleary.

“Jus’ sayin’ we could be doing something way more fun right no…w…” He trails off once he finally looks over at you.

He’s holding an unopened pack of cigarettes he had been looking for in his typical mess and pulling out his lighter, but now all his focus is on the way you’re sniffling and shaking. You’re still sat on that cushion, knees up and a hand settled over your mouth with your head turned away from him. A heart-wrenching sob just barely sneaks its way out before you choke it back down. Little huffs are escaping you in a desperate attempt to breathe without letting your need to wail break free. It feels like your lungs are on fire.

“Y/N…” Eddie says in a tender voice that you didn’t think he was even capable of. You shake your head.

“Y/n c’mon…” He tries again with a small, nervous laugh. Nervous you were serious. Nervous that he really made you so upset. Nervous to really show that he cares if he did.

“It’s okay, really-“ Your voice is higher than usual, another heavy breath puffing out before you try to drag it in again just to end up whimpering as another wave of sadness comes over you and you’re too overwhelmed to hold it in. You stay facing away from him as you cry and hiccup, trying to get it back under control.

“I just- it’s stupid, it’s n-ot that big of a deal.”

For Eddie, making you cry is all about the glossy eyes and pouty lips as you stare up at him defiantly or a sign that you need him to quit playing games and fuck you. It’s never been this… brutal. Panic continues to rise in his system, and he’s unsure of how to handle the situation. Once upon a time, he thought he treated you the way that he did because some sadistic part of him liked to always make you hurt, but it was becoming evident that he just liked the play. The banter. The shoving and the glaring and pouting and the wandering eyes. When he acted the way he always did and you didn’t respond or did so in a quiet plea for him to really stop or really cried—it made his stomach clench. The more he tried to keep it up this week the more he realized that when you weren’t playing along he just… he was just mean. Really mean. Not “you’re so awful, just fuck me already” mean, but “you’re making me miserable” mean. And fuck if he didn’t hate the way that felt.

“Is it really that bad?” He murmurs, partially surprised by his own voice when it sounded this gentle. The thin plastic around his cigarettes crinkle under his nervous hands. And he thought he needed a smoke before. “Did I hurt you? Or-or somethin’? Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No.” You weep, still refusing to look at him and it’s killing him even if a part of him knows he would crumble if he sees how you look right now. God, he hated this. The vulnerability of caring openly and to this extent, but what else could he do? Double down on his usual behavior and kick you while you were already so down you might as well have been sinking into the pavement?

“Y/N, please-“ He tries again and you crack completely.

“It’s just not fair because I thought I wanted this, but it’s to-oo hard. You don’t care enough to stick around. Y-You don’t check in with me. You’ve pushed me around for the past two years and I’m an idiot who thought it was all lighthe-hearted deep down, a-and that you wanted me too.”

You break down into tears again until you put yourself back together just enough so it’s only the constant sniffling and your voice trembling that’s interrupting you. All Eddie can do is stare at you with big brown eyes like saucers while you babble, his brow frowning as he anxiously picks at his fingernails and the skin around them.

“A-And of course I got my fucking period cause why wouldn’t I? Cause why would I catch a break? N-N my body aches and I’m so tired and you… you couldn’t… you didn’t…”

“What?” He’s shuffling a bit closer now, lowering his face like he always did to catch your attention. He was right that seeing your face like this would cave him in, and he wishes he could be dropped into a black hole. He knew he deserved it. At the sight of your current state, he was pulling that smoke he already had his fingertips on and placing it between his lips. He lights it and inhales deeply before letting his hand drop down, cig between his fore and middle fingers, ring finger toying with a tear in his jeans.

“You…” You let out a breath before dropping your gaze to your hands in your lap, tears still slipping down your cheeks and over your jaw to wet your neck and dampen the collar of your top or drop down and land on that skort he hated. “You wouldn’t even kiss me on Sunday…”

You sound horribly deflated at the admission, and his eyes flicker all over your features before the smallest twitches of the corners of his lips start to tug them up even though his eyes hold a sad sort of infatuation within them.

“You kissed me on Friday, but not once on Sunday. And you didn’t even seem to care…” You mumble, glancing over at him once and then twice when you notice the curve of his lips. Your eyes burn with a potential for new tears. “Are you fucking smiling?”

“No—no, well, yeah. Not like that.” He huffs out an anxious laugh. “I just… you ignored me… cause I didn’t give you a kiss..?”

You scoff, lips parted and gaze furious. He is unbelievable.

“Among other things! I-I… ugh! You’re infuriating!” You announce and his brows shoot up, grin widening with interest and he brings his cigarette back to his lips.

“You… you make fun of me constantly. You fuck me and finish in me and don’t even spend time with me after. The least you can do is kiss me. Or… or…” You huff, which was becoming a theme today.

He can’t help but find you cute when you’re angry. You remind him of that temperamental pixie in that old animated Peter Pan film from the ‘50s. He used to babysit a young girl in the trailer park who watched it constantly (much to his chagrin).

“Or you don’t get to have me anymore.” You conclude, and he just keeps staring at you with wild eyes as he smokes.

Your anxieties peak and a voice in your head is screaming to get out of the damn van, even when he’s just casually puffing on a cigarette without a hint of irritation on his face. Eddie lets the cig stick to his bottom lip as his hands find your form to pull you closer to him. His right hand raises to place the smoke between his middle and forefinger, and remove it from his lips. His left hand moves to hook his thumb on your lower lip and part your mouth for him to plant an open-mouthed kiss on you as his smoke floats around you and in your mouth, his tongue hot on yours. The pamphlets your parents gave you about the dangers of cigarettes popped up in your mind as his smoke fills you. The statistics and pictures of smoker lungs mean nothing to you as he kisses you like this.

You’re more than just warming up to the smell you usually couldn’t stand, and you find yourself back where you were on Friday. Willing to take whatever he gives you. As long as he kept kissing you like this. As long as he kisses you like he plans on making you his wife while he fucks you like he’s your high school bully. The kiss is all tongues and muffled moans, your arms wrapping around his neck. You chase after his lips when he finally starts pulling away. An involuntary whimper slid from you as you look at him with heavy eyelids.

“If you want something…” He trails off in a whisper, keeping his half-lidded eyes on you even as he reaches over to tap off ash into a cheap plastic tray. His thumb and pointer finger pinch your chin to keep your focus on him. “You ask, okay? Pretty standard rules, princess.”

“But…”

“But now,” He cuts you off with a soft sigh, head tilting as he looks at you. The eye contact is becoming so intense it’s burning through you. “Now I know this is important for you, ‘kay?”

You’re surprised by this. Honestly you’re shocked by every kindness and touch of patience he provided you today. You would have never guessed Eddie Munson is even capable of such a thing. You nod with your gaze retreating downwards, toying with your hands and he chases after your stare with a tilt of his head to try and get you to look at him again, brows raised up.

“Doll?”

You wipe at the cooling streaks of tears on one cheek with your shoulder then finally look up again, and nod with more confidence this time.

“And…” He looks almost like he’s in pain for a moment before he finally continues “‘m sorry, okay?”

“…Really?” You murmur, eyes wide with shock.

“Yeah.” He huffs out a laugh. “Don’t act so surprised. I’m capable of an apology, given the right circumstances.”

You eye him, silent with hesitation and shock.

“‘N the right girl.” He murmurs with a soft voice even though he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Why is it always so charming? It’s smug and teasing, but always so endearing.

You don’t know what else to do so you just kiss him. You pull him in by his shoulders and kiss him. You kiss him like you could devour him, body and soul. His arms circle around your waist after leaving that partly-smoked cigarette in the cheap ash tray and drags you closer all while kissing you back. He’s leaning down to place you on the scratchy carpeting and hover over you. Any break for air is short-lived before you’re back on each other. Your hands tangle in the messy curls draping around your head, tugging to pull a groan from him.

“Fuck…” He sighs into the kiss, dropping his body down to put more of his weight on you. He parts from your lips despite your whiny protests and presses kisses and nips to your jaw as he works his way to your neck. His arms unfurl from around your waist so his hands can settle on your hips and let his thumbs massage into your skin. You’re pawing at his vest as he works on leaving a love bite on your pulse point below your ear, and—surprisingly—he moves away to shake the jacket-vest combo off and drop it beside you. You eye the fit of his t-shirt and it makes your mind fog up.

All your focus is on the shape of his tummy against the fabric. The way the material sticks to him and shows all the harsh angles of his toned chest. The fact that he had cut off the bottom hem of his top and when he moves the right way you can see that trail of hair on his lower stomach. The shape of his arms under the sleeves. Does he work out? Considering his lack of discipline, you couldn’t imagine him having an exercise regimen, but dear god. His arms weren’t absurdly cut, but they were still thick with enough muscle that his sleeves seem a little tight. You can see the veins of his forearms and the blown out ink on his skin. When he’s on top of you again, sucking on your neck, you let your hands drag over his back and sneak underneath his shirt. The heat of his skin and the moving musculature alone making your toes curl. You’re happy to have him on you, but you wanted that damn shirt off too. You’re grasping at the fabric and pulling it up, gasping when he bites on your neck for doing so.

“Take that shit off-“ You huff, making a smile tug at his lips.

“Using my lines now, doll?” He purrs once he’s raised up again and grasping behind his head to pull his shirt over it. You can’t even think of a smart reply, your brain short circuiting at the sight of his naked torso. Even though you enjoy it, you never really understood his urge to bite. You sure do now. You shift from laying on your back to sit up in front of him while he remains raised up on his knees. Your hands slide up his stomach, feeling the goosebumps that raise in the wake of your cold fingertips. He’s still for once and you bring your hands back down to pull on his belt, fighting against the stiff leather to slide it out of the buckle.

You’ve never given head before, mainly because the only time there was an opportunity it had been with a guy you didn’t even like that much who kept trying to push your head down while you were kissing; but you felt feverish with thoughts of Eddie’s dick down your throat. While rushing to go down on him was the last thing you had on your mind at the start of your day, after he was so sweet on you, you were desperate to taste him.

Eddie’s breath is staggered as he watches you undo his jeans, his pupils all blown out. He can’t even count how many times he’s fantasized about those lips wrapped around his cock, but he knew after everything that he didn’t deserve to go first. Fuck, he wanted to, but he doesn’t deserve it. Belt open and slack and jeans undone, he grabs your hands to pin them over your head once you were pushed back onto the floor and he leans down to kiss you. One hand holds the side of your face and the other is pulling the zipper on your hip down, muttering a you first against your lips.

Before tugging at your skirt skort, Eddie pulled away again to lift your shirt off. He grew irritable for a moment with the long sleeves that fought him, tossing it aside harshly with a grumble that made you giggle. That gentle laugh was the only thing that lightened his mood again and encouraged a small smile before he continued. He kisses down your body, giving you the occasional bite. There are little things that he does along the way that make parts of you feel beautiful—parts that you either don’t pay attention to or even aren’t fond of. It’s an odd thing considering how mean he always is, but he seems to show a devotion to each and every inch of your skin that wouldn’t occur to most men. The way his hands slide along your sides as he makes his way down your chest, giving you the occasional squeeze. The way his arms slip around your midsection and bring you closer to his face with a press to the small of your back, smothering his face between your breasts still covered by a flimsy, lace bra—breathing in the scent of your skin. The way his hold relaxes as he continues down, just to squeeze you to him again when he finds a new spot he wants to smother himself in. One side of your tummy underneath your ribs. The slight rise of your lower abdomen beneath your belly button. Your hip bones.

You’re so drunk on his touch at first that it doesn’t even occur to you where this is leading until he’s already face-to-face with the center of your underwear.

“E-Eddie- no-“ You squeak out suddenly. “Not that.”

He lifts his head to eye you curiously and with surprise at the denial of getting head, lips parted in a question that you interrupt.

“I’m on my period, remember?”

Eddie half-jerks his shoulder up in a careless shrug. “Yeah, I know. So?”

“It’s just… it’s so messy and bloody. I wouldn’t even want you to eat me out right now if I was still mad at you.”

“Doll, c’mon…” He groans while pressing his face into your inner thigh—not to try and convince you to give consent cause he doesn’t care about this boundary, but rather to show how badly he wants to do this. That he doesn’t care about the mess and he doesn’t think it’s gross, in fact he found it hot. If you were sitting in his bed or in his passenger seat and got your period, his perv ass probably wouldn’t even try to remove the stain.

“I want to.” He insists, pulling away again to look up at you. “I think it would be so fucking hot. It’ll help the pain, princess.”

You consider the offer for a moment, wondering if he’s right. If he could make you feel so good that he’d reach and clear out those aches and pains that Tylenol couldn’t even touch. You still shake your head, the thought of all that blood on his tongue and the smell in his nostrils making you nervous and embarrassed. He groans again and dramatically flops into your stomach to hide his face.

“Not with your mouth.” You clarify, cheeks all rosy.

At that, he finally raises his head with a raised brow and his bangs all messy.

“Oh yeah?”

He’s sitting up now, settling back against folded legs as he raises your legs one by one to take your shoes off and toss them randomly. You tilt your head to watch one sneaker smack the back of the passenger seat, then look to the side to watch your second sneaker smack into the interior with a vibrating clunk. After taking off your shoes, your ankles are lightly settled on his shoulders and he has his hands wrapped around your calves as he tilts his head to press a kiss to the inside of one ankle. Then he’s moving to bite the inside of the opposite knee.

After that, he skips right back to your lips, your legs parted to settle on either side of him now. Eddie hooks his fingertips into the band of your underwear and pulls them down, having to begrudgingly separate enough so you can bend your knees up to your chest while he tugs them off your legs. He’s about to casually pull on the string of your tampon when you shake your head quickly and clasp your hand over your entrance.

“I’ll- I’ll do it.” You murmur and he’s (once again) groaning irritably.

He wishes you wouldn’t be so sheepish about it. He can understand the experience of your period not being the most comfortable thing in the world, but he doesn’t know what he has to do to show that he likes it. That he wants to go down on you and wipe that mess off of his face with pride, therefore not needing to look away at your insistence while you take out your tampon. Maybe it’s his pride in being a freak. Maybe it’s a slight twinge of superiority, knowing that he was one of the few guys that would even offer in the first place. Maybe it’s that breeding kink flaring up at what he saw as a glaring reminder that you could possibly get pregnant with his kid. Maybe it’s just the fact that it’s you. But he lets you do it yourself, holding in his usual attitude for the sake of your sensitivity for once, then leaning back down to kiss you the second you give the okay.

The kiss doesn’t have as much of an apologetic gentleness as the others, but it was passionate and it was hot. The heavy breathing and groping and spit; the taste of cigarettes and mint; the scratch of slight stubble and the bump of his nose against yours. Eddie shot a hand out to feel for his jacket which he promptly crams under your tailbone to raise your hips, then dips his thumbs in the band of his exposed boxers to pull his pants and boxers down. (He didn’t take them off completely per usual, but you took getting him shirtless as your win).

Eddie pulls away just enough to wrap his hand around his cock, giving it a few good tugs before leading it to your entrance. He keeps an eye on your expression, plunging into you the moment his tip slid in. The few times he’s fucked you, you were always so messy and wet and warm, but this was enough to sign his soul away. You were soaked with arousal and blood as expected, but he wasn’t prepared for how much puffier you are like this. And so fucking hot. You mewl at the sensation, a dull ache in your lower abdomen at the start, but it’s slowly dissipating. Maybe it’s the association between blood and pain, and menstruation and pain, but you genuinely thought this would hurt more than usual—you certainly weren’t betting on your heightened sensitivity. Even that first stroke slipping into you lit up your nerves.

“‘S good, right?” He asks with a cocky grin, left hand wrapped around your right thigh and his right hand sliding over your tummy and slowly massaging the area.

You almost don’t want to admit it, but you do with a nod and pouty lips that have pathetic little whimpers slipping past them. Eddie slides back out a couple inches then pushes back into you, your toes curling as a bit of blood and arousal gushes and sputters out around his base. You curse under your breath, encouraging him to proceed. He’s uncharacteristically tender, and while seeing his sweet side today was a pleasant surprise—you just wanted him to fuck you.

“Eddie-“ You breathe out.

“Hm?”

“Please just fuck me.”

His grin is devilish and his gaze is fiery. He snaps his hips forward once without wasting a second, threatening to making your eyes roll back.

“Yeah?” He leans down, his voice a condescending whisper as he stays infuriatingly still while this deep. “My baby come cryin’ cause ‘m too mean? But she still wants me to bully her little pussy?”

You whine and nod your head, his following thrusts nearly punching the breath out of your lungs. His hand rests over your pubic bone and starts rubbing at your clit as he fucks into you. Your head lolls back into the carpeting, breasts bouncing with his efforts.

“Such a good fucking slut for me. This pussy all mine?”

“Uh huh-“ You speak in a whiny moan, hips weakly pushing forward and he takes the hint.

Eddie pulls you forward by your hips and holds you close to him as he gives you breathtakingly shallow thrusts. Your eyes begin to water from the way he’s moving inside you and his thumb is brushing on your clit. His other hand parts from your hip to grip onto the center of your bra, pulling it down to free your breasts and to keep a steady grip on you by the fabric clasped around your chest.

“Eddie-” You sob, and an earth-shattering sense of relief blows through him, leaving him temporarily wrecked before settling again like a gust of wind pushing up bird feathers before they smooth out again. Finally seeing those globs of tears in your eyes in the way he loves brought that balance back, and he’s doubling his efforts. Your lips part and your back arches up off of the carpet of his van, those wet streaks leading from your eyes back into your hair just like they were on Friday.

You’re counting your blessings that you aren’t back in your bed with your parents down the hall during your make up session because even the fear of being caught wouldn’t have been able to stop the moan that gasps from your lungs when you cum around him. All the tension and hormones and yearning of this week mixing with the overpowering pleasure he’s giving you, all culminating to this very moment and making you see stars. You feel like you’ve been temporarily shoved under water, all of the sounds around you muffling—even the sound of your own breathing. Just as you’re floating back up to the surface, Eddie’s leaning down to place his lips on yours. His large hands cover both sides of your face as he’s kissing you like he means it, only letting his hands part from your cheeks to wrap around your midsection and scoop you up while he sits back.

“Fuck-” You breathe out, hands settling to cradle the back of his head. You’re sure you look as disheveled as you feel. He thinks you look incredible.

“I know right?” He teases, all smug even in this quieter tone of voice and he laughs when you smack at his arm.

He eyes you from where his face is level with your chest, watching the playful irritation melt from your expression as he starts thrusting up into you. You’re almost too overstimulated from him moving so close to your orgasm that was still pulsing in the aftershock, but fuck if this doesn’t feel too good to pause even for a moment. Eddie wraps his arms around you to finally unclasp your bra and fling it towards the front of his van, metal hooks clinking against the hard surface of his dashboard. His hands smooth over your back, groaning against your skin as he smothers himself between your breasts again, fucking up into you. You start bouncing on top of him to meet his thrusts, whimpering quietly at the fluttering still rippling through your walls. You still have that palpable pulse inside you, squeezing around him and making it incredibly difficult to not cum before he can get you to let go at least one more time.

“C’n you cum for me, doll? Gimme one more?” He finally separates from your chest to look up at you again and while you were always the one looking fucked out, when you look at him you can’t help but feel like you’re seeing him the same way. A faint shine to his doe eyes glossed over with lust, that rosy tint to his cheeks, and the swell of his pink lips. You nod, but your hips buck in disagreement when his touch is back on your clit. It’s admittedly too soon, your eyes burning with prickling tears as the pleasure jolts through you like shocks of electricity rather than rolling waves—but you certainly weren’t going to ask him to stop.

You gasp out his name, fingers gripping the hair all damp with perspiration at the nape of his neck. You feel like you’re vibrating and the cramping in your stomach nearly makes you break and ask him to stop nudging at that sensitive bud. Your nails dig into the back of his neck, hearing him groan against your skin, feeling his hot breath on your chest. The two of you are moving like the universe would simply unravel if you stopped—as if it isn’t already unraveling in this moment.

“Oh my god-“ You moan and Eddie’s sinking his teeth into your breast—partly to punctuate his claim, partly to muffle his own sounds as he unloads inside of you.

You’re trembling in his lap with soft sobs in the aftershock of probably the most heart-stopping, all-consuming orgasm you’ve ever experienced. Even the slightest touch to your flushed skin sent shocks throughout your nerves and made you cry out, so Eddie stays still.

When both of your hearing is clear again, and you swallow to bring some moisture back to your throat—you let out a small laugh. It isn’t malicious or mocking. It rose up out of pure joy and relief and (honestly) a bit of surprise at everything that’s happened. And it all happened so quickly, you aren’t sure if your memory was able to keep up. God, you hoped it was. You want to relive it every time you close your eyes at night.

Eddie’s licking his lips and pulling back to look at you, a few laughs of his own bubbling up. Like always, he isn’t quick to pull out, but he does set you back down onto the carpet and press a few kisses to your jaw. His hands are pressed into the floor on either side of your head, pulling up his upper body to look down at you. Your hair is messy around your face, and streaks of mascara are all muddled around your eyes and down your cheeks. He put all of his weight on one arm to allow his other hand to raise up and swipe at those black streaks with his thumb before settling back down to kiss you, one arm still pressed up and bent at the elbow and the other settling his forearm on the rug.

The kiss is slower, but still sloppy with exhaustion. He pulls back one more time just to smile down at your face and ends up right back to kissing you seconds later.

The sun is setting in Hawkins and the two of you are all over each other until you realize how late it had gotten and your lips might as well have been ready to fall off. But even when you’re dropped off at home with excuses ready, he still climbed in through that bedroom window to keep kissing you once everyone in the house retired for the night.

After all, you finally left it unlocked and he couldn’t stand another week out in the cold.

Eddie never did work up the nerve to properly ask you what you meant by that blunt reply that one Autumn day... ↓

CLICK ON YOUR ENDING OF CHOICE:

fluffy ❤️

angsty 💔

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#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #bully!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #perv!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #as if eddie munson #stranger things imagine #as if eddiessluttywaist #as if part 3 #as if part 3 eddiessluttywaist

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sin-djarin · 5 months

Text

hold tight

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader

Rating: Explicit. MDNI. This blog and its contents are 18+.

Word Count: 1k.

Summary: Tim is giving. And you're thankful. The holsters stay on.

Warnings: Established relationship, mention of food, unprotected PinV (don't do this, be safe), creampie, Tim Rockford's gun holsters, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble for Thanksgiving but it's a little more than that, apologies.

More Tim here.

“Just…fine. Hold tight.” Tim huffed down the phone to his colleague on the other end of the line. His large hands clenched into fists on the marble countertop beside you.

“Hold tight for me, okay?” He pleaded with you and pressed a kiss to your temple.

His brown eyes were soft and apologetic when explained why his seat at the table would be vacant on Thanksgiving. A few moments later, he pulled on his holsters and left as you awaited your guests alone.

Hold tight.

Tim’s words echo in your mind in the dining room, elbow to elbow with loved ones. They talk about everything and nothing as you stare vacantly at his empty chair. It's a shame he had to leave at such short notice, they say. All you can do is nod in agreement.

You idly push the rich food around on your plate. It’s doing nothing to satiate the hunger he left you with earlier, before you were interrupted by his phone ringing. You toy with it amongst the mindless chatter and clinking glasses until you can't stand it any longer and take yourself back to the kitchen where it began hours ago.

You squeeze your legs tighter to stave off the desire that bloomed and continues to swell. You recall the image of him shirtless in the kitchen with his sweatpants slung low around his hips.

The residual heat from the stove reminds you of the closeness of him as he stood behind you, peppering kisses across the nape of your neck and his fingertips drawing lazy patterns over your belly. All whilst you flicked through recipe cards and set timers for the next foil tray to go in the oven.

“Hold tight.” You mumble to yourself in the car, driving to the station in the dark.

Passing headlights are few and far between on the roads. Everyone else is at home stuffed, but there’s still something you crave after he left you simmering. You succumbed, losing the battle to suppress the urge.

A plate vibrates beside you in the passenger seat. Casseroles, pies, and slices of succulent meats spooned haphazardly onto the ceramic and saran wrapped. All of it is an excuse to satisfy your own hunger as much as it is a good deed.

“Hold tight.” Tim breathes, hurriedly ushering you into his office before poking his head around the door to check for passersby.

Thankfully, you two appear to be the only sign of life in the building. Satisfied you're alone, he turns back to you and you extend the heavy plate. His tongue runs slowly over his plush bottom lip. It's not a reaction to the food - he's quick to detect there’s hardly anything but silk underneath his own raincoat that you put on after pardoning yourself from the table.

With his hands on his hips, Tim rakes his eyes over your body, from head to toe. His gaze burns and does nothing but fan the flames he sparked this morning - knowingly or unknowingly. His eyes dart to your offering and back to your own. Far from a fool, he knows as well as you do that it’s a prop and the dimly lit room makes the smirk that creeps across his face all the more devilish. The sight of it engulfs you in another torturous wave of fire.

A silence hangs in the air before he speaks again. “Hold tight.” He repeats, the tone of his voice lower as he reaches out to shut the blinds and flicks the lock on the door without a second thought.

Tim strolls over to you, closing any remaining space and unburdens you of the plate. It just about lands on the chair he jumped up from at your unexpected arrival before his palms are pushing the coat down and over your shoulders.

He captures your lips and begins to walk you backwards towards his desk, his hardening length pressing into your stomach as your fingers tangle themselves into the salt and pepper waves of his hair. The familiar taste of him is better than anything you slaved over in his absence.

“Hold tight.” He growls into your mouth, pawing at the soft material that adorns your body with one hand to lift it higher around your waist, his touch now mirroring yours in its desperation. The other frantically pushes a mountain of files off his desk, sending loose sheets of paper flying to the floor before settling between your thighs that spread open for him.

“Hold tight.” He mewls into the delicate skin of your neck, dragging his teeth across your flesh as he speaks.

The scrape of them, the scratch of his bristled jaw and the warmth of his breath threaten to become overwhelming. He plucks his first moan from you at the collective sensation.

Your fingers make speedy work of the silver belt buckle and the zip of his dark slacks. His own are as fast in helping you to shove them down his legs.

“Hold tight.” He purrs, grinning slyly at your growing impatience when he runs the wide head of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal before pushing into you.

“Hold,” he says and stops moving.

Gently, he removes your hands from where they clutched at the edge of his wooden desk. Without breaking eye contact, he guides them to the black leather holsters that are pulled taut around his broad shoulders and back.

“Tight.” Tim instructs.

You do as you're told and your fingers grip the straps, rapidly turning white knuckled as he picks up pace again, able to drive deeper and harder. His desperation is more evident than before and the cries of euphoria it evokes from you are muffled by the strong muscle of his shoulder that's clad in crisp white cotton.

“Hold…tight.” He whines with tired lungs.

The monosyllabic words barely register over your heartbeat hammering against your eardrums when he begs you to stay still so he can feel the lingering pulses of your orgasm around him.

“Hold tight.” you whisper under his groan, soothing his stubbled cheek as he rests his forehead against yours both sticky with sweat as he spills into you.

You loosen your grasp on the leather but he leans forward to kiss you again. It's clumsy and languid, all teeth and tongue as you both come down from your feverish highs.

“Happy Thanksgiving” you sigh, finally satisfied.

“Well" he starts, almost breathless. "Hold tight because the day's not over yet."

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x female reader #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford fanfic

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year

Text

Love in the Time of Strudels

Summary: Reader tells Spencer she loves him and it brings back some memories.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: fluff

Content warnings: Reminders of death and mourning of a loved one (Maeve)

Word count: 1.3k

Spencer woke up to two things this morning. One, the smell of apples baking with traces of brown sugar wafting in the air. Two, his phone buzzing on his nightstand. He perks up, for which he couldn't say. But when the text is from J.J. calling him in early, he wants nothing more than to pretend that the text doesn't exist. Because it’s you responsible for the delicious smells gracing his entire one-bedroom dwelling.

He sat up, pushing the covers off. Sunlight peeked through the curtains behind him, making it harder to open his eyes. He rubbed them until he could. He doesn’t remember how long you both stayed up last night. However, considering your clothes are strewn together, ending at his feet and he was in fact, quite naked, he could work up some theories.

He didn’t have the energy for that though. Instead, he pushed himself up on his feet, immediately putting away his clothes and folding yours to place on your side of the bed. He grabbed a button-up, vest, and tie combination, along with matching pants and an overcoat. He dresses quickly because he knows an unanswered text leads to a phone call within five minutes. He needs to use those five minutes at least. He grabs his phone.

When Spencer enters his kitchen, he finds you at the sink. Dishes were collected there and ingredients that matched the air were grouped near the stove. The sounds of you scrubbing attentively almost drowned out when he said, “Well good morning.”

You turned around. Your bedhead is poofy and your lids look just as heavy as his, but your smile is still sweet. You’re wearing his robe, and he’s reminded that your clothes are on his bed. He’s tempted to let you keep it because he never thought you looked so beautiful. "Good morning back," you say as you cock your head. “You’re already dressed.”

“Yeah,” Spencer simply lifted his phone. The screen isn’t even lit.

You know. He studies your face, wondering how much he’s disappointed you. You’ve been around long enough to know how this works, but Spencer continues to learn the hard way that leaving you abruptly never gets easier. Especially when you’ve tried to make something special for him. And even more when your effort is displayed aesthetically in the form of apple strudels stacked on each other, topped with powdered sugar. You even used one of his fancy plates; the golden border complements the golden-flaked treat.

You suck in your cheeks like you taste-tested the lemon juice you used. “Okay.”

“You can be mad.”

“I’m not.”

“You sure?” He knows you’re not happy.

You push yourself off the counter you are leaning against and step forward. “Your job requires helping people who need you.” You stop when your toes meet his shoes. “We can’t control when that happens.”

Spencer takes your hand. “I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

“I know.” Your smile is slight.

Although the team profiles each other regularly, he doesn't speak the results aloud when analyzing you. Before he can say anything unrelated to what he’s thinking, you’re reaching across the kitchen island to grab the fancy plate, sliding it to your side. “Will you take these to your people?”

“What?” Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed. “You made them for us, though.”

“You’re getting called in now and you haven’t eaten. Your team likely hasn’t either.”

Spencer clamped his lips shut with his teeth. He knows you’re right.

You take the top strudel off the stack. Spencer didn’t even notice you had two smaller plates out for both of you. You take some powdered sugar off the big plate and sprinkle it on the one you give him. It somehow makes him feel awful. So before you can reach for the saran wrap, Spencer takes the plate from your hand. “I should at least compliment the chef before I leave.”

“Spencer.”

He takes a bite. The crispy crunch is almost melodic. “Oh, my god.” His words blend with his thoughtful chewing. Powdered sugar collects around the corners of his mouth. He takes another bite. “You’re brilliant.”

“I try,” you joke while wrapping the big plate. When done, you wait to wrap his, but he keeps it close to his chest, insisting through a full mouth that he wants to finish his breakfast here. He eats fast. He has maybe three minutes.

When he’s done, Spencer puts the plate down, then uncharacteristically wipes his hands together and calls it clean. Then those hands are put around your waist. He pulls you close and hugs you, his chin on your shoulder. “Thank you for this," he says to you. “Thank you for making me feel special.”

You follow, your arms instinctively rubbing his back and eventually settling around his neck. You hug him a bit tighter, and Spencer recognizes the small but noticeable squeeze. He relishes your press into his chest.

When you pull apart, your hands don’t leave. He keeps his at your waist while looking at you. “You gotta go.” You say.

He sighs, “I know.” He leans down to kiss you gently. “I’ll call you before we fly, okay?"

“Okay.” You push yourself up to kiss him again, mimicking what he did.

Spencer grins and lets you go. You hand him the big plate. “Bye.”

“Bye, love you.”

“Wait, what?” That is all he can say. Other than that, Spencer’s frozen in both action and brain activity. The phrase you just said, however, echoes throughout the room. Or it’s just him. He can’t ask.

“Bye, love you.”

You’ve been around enough to understand how his job works, and this isn’t the first time he’s trusted you alone in his apartment when he’s called in. But you don’t know about Maeve. Spencer knows his way through complicated theory and equations, but he can’t figure out how to bring up his ten-month relationship that ended abruptly due to not-so-common circumstances.

Yet with those three words, it’s as if you palmed him on the forehead with the memory of hearing Maeve speak it for the first time. He remembers thinking it was a slip. Then he remembers how she couldn’t see his reaction over the phone.

Heaviness is between you two right now, literally separated by a foot. Spencer’s sure the seconds have been long. The plate has already been put down, so you’ve definitely felt rejection at this point. Nevertheless, you repeat yourself. “I said I love you.” And he hears you swallow. “I-it’s okay if you don’t. I just wanted to say it. I’ve wanted to for a —”

“I love you too.”

He didn’t think your eyes could get wider. “You do?”

“Yeah.” He exhales, the corners of his lips turning upward. “I’m glad you told me.” Spencer also remembers that he didn’t get the chance to say it back. Maeve hung up before he could even think about it. His feelings were obviously there. It took time (and books and therapists) to cope with them, questioning for months if he would ever be able to express them again, fully and without fear.

Now he’s standing here, in his kitchen, in front of you. And he’s admitted he loves you.

Spencer bridges that foot of distance and puts his arms around you again. His hands are open on your back and the fleece of his own robe is suddenly the most delightful feeling in the world as your warmth continues to bloom through it. He presses his nose into your shoulder.

Then his phone buzzes in his pocket. The phone call is here.

“They need you.” You say.

“They can wait.”

“You have to get on a plane.”

“I don’t care.”

Spencer silences the phone. He puts it on the island and pushes it to arm’s length. And he returns to you, fully present and in love.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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poursomesunaonme · 9 months

Text

better ride

pairing: freeloader!toji x f!reader

summary: toji's (negligible) payday finally came, so he's treating you to a road trip!

wc: 1.1k

an: HELLOOOOO BEANIE'S BACK ! this crack shit is for the wet hot slimeball summer collab put on by @bastardblvd ! dreams rly do come true :') as always - likes, rbs, and comments always appreciated <3

cw: car(?) sex, major crack fic, voyeurism, exhibitionism (unintentional?), oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, please laugh at this i think im so funny

cameos from: landlord!sukuna, slutty mailman!geto, yuuji, nobara, megumi, tired cop!nanami, and mcdonald's worker!aki <3

“oi! are you ready yet?”

toji’s call into the apartment you share (you pay for and he crashes in) doesn’t go unanswered.

“just a sec, babe!” you yell, applying the last of your lip gloss, checking your summer fit in the mirror. it was hot, hotter than satan’s cleavage, so you decide to show some. a skimpy cropped cami and revealing jean shorts - it wasn’t anything toji hadn’t seen before.

you grab your purse and shut the door behind you, seeing toji standing by the car. it was his most prized possession that you both and the entirety of bastard boulevard called the flintstone mobile™. a four door sedan (?) equipped with butterfly doors and a (saran wrap) sunroof - all entirely made out of cardboard he stole from the mcdonald’s whenever they got their supply shipments.

“she’s purring and ready to go,” toji said proudly, patting the side and shaking the whole vehicle (she was in fact, not purring, as there was no engine).

“and you,” he purred, looking you up and down. “i might have to have a taste before we get going.”

you saunter over to him, planting your hands on his chest. “put on my cherry lipgloss that you like so much.”

he smirks, turning to lift the cardboard flap door for you. “let’s get a little more comfortable, then.”

within about a millisecond of the two of you settling into the backseat, his tongue is shoved down your throat, his hands crammed into that skimpy cami to pull your tits out. within about a millisecond, he’s pulling down his gray sweatpants so you can get his dick wet. within about a millisecond, your lips are fastened fast around the salty gorgeous banana curved slightly to the right #ac907c 8.386in shaft, the cut mushroom tip (#735354; circ done homemade to sell it online) nosing the back of your throat, nose pressed against against the trimmed bush and tongue sliding along the spindling veins and over his #6a6057 fat breeder balls. within about a millisecond of giving him the sloppiest toppiest gluck gluck cross eyed white knuckles tongue twister gut wrencher 9000, he’s folding you in half and bullying his 6in girth into your death trap of a cunt.

“god damn!” you hiss as he crams himself in, not stopping until the base kisses your clit.

“there you go, pretty.” he grins, letting out a low groan as he spends a moment just relishing in your warmth. “knew you could take it. you always do.”

you pant, flustered and already sweating, already squeezing around his stupidly pleasurable length as he begins to move. you throw your head back, nearly crashing through the cardboard side of the flintstone mobile™. toji lets out a guttural groan, picking up speed as the sounds of his hips slapping into your ass fills the air.

it doesn’t take long for him to reach his peak. the sight of your tits pulled out from your cami, bouncing with every thrust, your flushed and panting face begging for more, the warm gummy walls squeezing around him - it’s all too good. the deepness of his thrusts and the fat thumb on your clit send the orgasm crashing down through your body in tandem with his.

there’s something about the excitement of going on a road trip with him funded by his last few scams working perfectly on the dumbasses on the boulevard and the pre-trip sex that makes this peak even better than the last few. you let out a high-pitched whine and thrash, unable to control your limbs. at the potent feeling of your cunny convulsing around him, toji straightens as he shoots ropes of hot cum into you.

the inability to control your bodies sends toji’s head through the (saran wrap) sunroof, and you through the side of the flintstone mobile™. this doesn’t stop either of you, however, as you’re determined to make the most out of the most euphoric feeling. he continues to slam into you, and you continue to milk his cock, oblivious to the fact that you’re literally tearing the car apart.

the mailman tries to ignore this scene as he delivers the mail to the landlord just a few doors down. he knocks on sukuna’s door, the latter of whom was watching through his fucked up blinds that barely hide his voyeuristic tendencies. he goes to the door to meet suguru.

“and i thought i could deliver a package,” suguru mutters as sukuna signs off on his bunnygirl senpai merchandise in conveniently discreet packaging. sukuna ignores him and immediately slams the door in his face. other residents of the boulevard hear the ruckus and look, then promptly look away (most of them, at least). nanami rides past in the patrol car, pinching the bridge of his nose and deliberately ignoring the scene.

you and toji struggle to catch your breath, not even processing the fact that the flintstone mobile™ literally collapsed and left you tangled on the concrete, still enveloped in each other’s bodies. you close your eyes, the haze beginning to wear off. when you open them, you realize.

“fuck!” you yell, scrambling out from underneath him, setting your tits back into your cami. “toji, the car!”

“it’s okay, pretty.” toji stands up, looking around. “i’m a better ride anyway.”

you eye him curiously. “huh?”

he only grins, turning his back to you and crouching down. “get on, baby. nothing’s gonna stop this trip.”

“you’re the worst.” you grin and oblige him, jumping on him to piggyback to whatever destination he has in mind. it’s a hot summer day, but the wind in your hair dries the sweat as toji nearly gallops to the nearest mcdonald’s. the message on the board reads “TOJI. NO.” but he ignores it and quite literally screeches to a halt in the drivethru.

“toji. i’m not doing this again.” aki’s voice drips with annoyance. toji only grins, walking to see a car parked by the window waiting for their food. he doesn’t say anything, and you know better than to question his methods. after a few seconds, he takes off at a breakneck speed and you wrap your arms tightly around his neck to avoid getting thrown off his back. in a flash, he steals the food that aki was handing to the car waiting, and you glance to see megumi, yuuji, and nobara staring open mouthed at the ridiculous scene.

“sorry son!” toji yells when he sees his kid driving the car. “man’s gotta eat!”

you giggle and continue to hold on until toji finds a hidden spot for you to enjoy the kids’ food. after you eat, he motions for you to get back on his back. in a truly cinematic moment, you drive him off into the sunset on bastard boulevard, smiling at the promise of the roadtrip of a lifetime (it’s to the ihop three streets over).

#toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji smut #jjk smut #toji x you #🍀beanie's events #🪐beanie writes!

120 notes · View notes

vennilavee · 3 months

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geto suguru please come wash my hair and clean my apartment because i am unwell and i have spiraled

#shut up Saran #he’d be like damn bitch you live like this

16 notes · View notes

yslkook · 2 years

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i cant believe harry styles wrote Matilda for the brown girls

#shouldve named it saranya instead #tbt to when someone said i was a harry stan bc i named some chapters of MoM after harry's songs #rip me #shut up saran

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

Text

Girlfriend - Robin Buckley X Female (Bi) Reader

Title: Girlfriend

Robin Buckley X Female (Bi) Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother, Reader's father, Robin's parents (Mentioned), Steve, and Mrs. Windlebergs (OC) (Mentioned)

Partially inspired by: Your Heart Is An Empty Room by Death Cab for Cutie and Imagine by Ben Platt

WC: 6,873 (long boi)

Warnings: Fake threats, Reader's bisexual, 80's homophobia fear, Reader's a bit shy, cuteness overload, cursing, relationship angst, mentions of killing, mentions of the mall, Upside Down monsters, crying, a lot of emotions, and big fluff

It was a bright, yet slow day at Family Video and Steve sighed as he stared at the clock at the wall, just wishing that time would fly by. The bell above the door jingled, grabbing his attention as he looked over. He watched as you walked in; a slight pep in your step. Sighing, Steve turned to the office in the back of the store, cupping the side of his mouth to be louder.

"Robin! You're girlfriend's here!" He called back, before placing his hands on the counter before him, giving you a lazy smile.

"Hey, Y/N. How's your afternoon going?" He asked and you simply smiled back, clasping your hands together behind your back as you rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet.

"Oh, you know... It's going. Boring day?" You asked and Steve nodded as you heard the office door open.

"Yeah, boring as hell. Please tell me you're renting something today." He practically begged and you just nodded your head.

"Yeah, I am, don't worry."

"Yeah, Harrington. Don't worry your pretty head about it." Robin quickly announced herself as she walked over to you, quickly making her way to your side and giving Steve a teasing smirk.

Steve only smirked back, pointing an accusing finger at her, "Ha! You called me pretty."

Robin only crossed her arms, rolling her eyes, "Yeah, pretty annoying." She replied, making you laugh lightly, covering your mouth with your hand as Steve turned to you with a look of betrayal.

“Y/N, I thought you’d at least be on my side here. Buckley’s being mean.” Steve pouted, looking like a wounded puppy.

You could only try and simmer your laughter as you shrugged, "I'm sorry, Steve, but I can't not laugh at her joke... She's funny."

Robin uncrossed her arms and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes, "Damn right I am. I'm hilarious." Looking very serious as you shook your head.

Your laughs quieted and you looked up at her with a small smile, "You think so?"

She gave you a nod, "Definitely. I mean, how can anyone not laugh when they hear something like that coming from my mouth?"

Steve only groaned, glaring at the two of you, but mostly at Robin. "I take it you'll be taking your break?" He asked and Robin nodded, not bothering to look up at him as she led you to the back office. Steve sighed, sitting back down in his crappy chair, and staring at the clock on the wall. He really wanted to go home.

Robin opened the door for you, turning on the small light as you lifted yourself up and sat down on the table in the middle of the room. You then watched as Robin walked to her locker, opened it, and grabbed a small brown paper bag. She then shut the locker with her hip, giving you a smile as she waved her paper bag in the air, walking over to you.

"Guess what I got for lunch?" She asked, taking a seat on the tabletop next to you.

You tilted your head slightly, a curious look on your face, "What?"

"Sandwiches." She said with a shrug and you couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head in disbelief as you took the bag. Same thing as yesterday. "So, how was your day?" She asked, pulling out the sandwiches inside.

You shrugged, taking the saran-wrapped sandwich from her, "Same as yesterday, I suppose. Helped Mrs. Windlebergs put the returned books away, and finished my shift by helping a kid with the computer. Boring really." You mumbled, taking a bite of the sandwich. Cheese and salami, you noted.

Robin smiled fondly down at her sandwich, picking at the crust with her fingers, painted nails chipped. "Better than here. You get to be in a room full of books. You love that stuff. I’m jealous of you. I’d probably just read the books instead of putting them away." She said and you hummed, chewing before swallowing.

"Yes, you would do that," You agreed, looking up into her bright blue eyes. "I could pick you up a book after work tomorrow?" You offered only for Robin to shake her head, her foot nudging yours lightly.

"No, you don't have to do that, babe. But I appreciate the thought. I’m still trying to finish The Hobbit." She replied softly before finishing off her sandwich. "Always so book smart." She muttered thoughtfully, stuffing the saran wrap garbage into the paper bag before turning to you as you finished yours. "Another thing I find irresistible about you." She sighed, making you look up at her with wide eyes as you paused your chewing, and swallowed, looking down at your lap as your cheeks flushed.

You had been dating Robin for almost two years and you still were not used to her flirting. Or her compliments.

Babe, you look amazing. Why is my girlfriend so pretty?

You've got that little wrinkle between your brows when you're thinking hard or trying to decide what to eat. It is so cute.

Did you know every time I look at you the world stops? Crazy, right?

You never really knew what to say to her when she complimented you or anything. You'd just smile, thank her, or look away with very warm cheeks.

Rolling the crumby saran wrap into a ball, you tossed it into the open paper bag, Robin suddenly raised her hands in the air, "And she scores!" She cheered, making you laugh lightly before Robin nudged your foot with hers again. Her red beat-up Converse knocked into your black Doc Martens again, bringing your gaze from your shoes up to her. She said nothing, looking at you with a small frown.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly, her hand beside yours sliding closer her pinkie looping with yours, "You're pretty quiet today." She added, leaning in close to your face.

Your heart jumped slightly before you nodded, looking away. "I'm good. Just tired."

You both went silent for a moment, your hand gliding over hers; your thumb gently rubbing circles on Robin's soft skin; trying to convince her that you were, sort of, alright.

"Okay." She finally said, flipping her hand over for her fingers to intertwine with yours, "We can talk more later, okay?"

"Alright. Thank you." You whispered, closing your eyes as you felt her lean in, pressing her lips against yours softly, her touch lingering as she pulled away. You leaned forward, resting your forehead against hers, letting your eyes flutter shut as your lips brushed against her cheekbones. No matter how many times you kissed Robin, or she kissed you, you never got used to the feeling you'd get. As if there was electricity zapping through your veins, or as if little orange, white, and pink butterflies were stuck in your stomach; wanting to escape.

"You gotta get back... Don't you?" You asked softly, and Robin shook her head, her forehead rubbing against yours as she did so.

"Nah, Steve's fine without me. Give me five minutes with my amazing girlfriend." She muttered, and even with your eyes closed, you knew there was a small smirk on her face.

~~~

Leaning against the hood of your car, you crossed your arms as the cold winter breeze blew past you. You wished you had worn your coat, your Y/F/C sweater the only thing covering your arms from the harsh wind. At least your legs were semi-warm as you were smart enough to wear leggings under your sweats. As you heard footsteps approaching you, you stood up straight, looking over to see Steve leave the Family Video, giving you a smile when he noticed you.

"She's just grabbing her coat." He answered your silent question, only for Robin to push open the glass door a second later, looking at you, at Steve, and back.

"Awe, has my poor baby been standing in the cold, freezing her cute butt off and Harrington won't even let her borrow his jacket?" She cooed to you, giving you a small pout, quickly making her way to you, wrapping her arms around you as Steve gaped at her.

"Hey, if you must know, I was going to offer, but then you came out." Steve argued back jokingly, before walking to his car.

"Have a nice night, Y/N." He said as he passed you, "Don't let Robs ruin it." He muttered teasingly as Robin abruptly turned her head, her hair tickling your cheeks as she did so; her eyes glaring sharply at Steve's retreating figure.

She was about to yell something back at him, but you wrapped your arms around her waist, nuzzling your face into her chest, breathing in her scent of lemon and bergamot. Quickly relaxing you. Robin held you tighter as another sharp breeze went by, leaning down to rub her nose into your hair. You had gotten a new shampoo, she realized, before she closed her eyes.

"Can we go to your house?" You asked, voice slightly muffled, but you knew Robin heard you as she slowly unwrapped her arms from around your waist, sliding them up your biceps, rubbing them gently; warming you up.

She didn't speak for a while as she just looked at you, making your heart skip a beat, "Of course, sweetheart. You gonna stay over again tonight?" She then asked, taking one of your hands in hers, her finger tracing over your palm as she looked at you, waiting for you to answer.

"Yeah, I think so. If you want me to." You said with a shrug and watched as Robin rolled her eyes jokingly.

"Y/N, babe. If I could, you'd stay over every night." She teased, but you knew she was telling the truth, you felt the same. You never wanted to leave her side. She was your rock, your anchor. The only person who made you feel alive. Who gave you hope when things seemed hopeless.

Her blue eyes stared into yours as she brought your hand to her mouth, kissing your knuckles tenderly. Your breath hitched slightly as your eyes widened, your heart skipping a beat. You loved her so much. "Come on, you're freezing. Let's get you home. We have The Secret of NIMH to watch." She said, opening the driver's side door. You climbed into the seat, smiling as Robin closed the door for you and went to the passenger side, and got in. You started the engine, glancing at her once more before backing out of the parking space and driving off towards her house.

~~~

The drive to Robin's place wasn't long, only ten minutes, maybe fifteen tops, but it was an enjoyable ride nonetheless. You parked your car outside Robin's house, stepping out onto the pavement, Robin quickly making her way around the front of the car to take your hand in hers before walking up to the door. Fishing out her keys, she unlocked the door and let you inside first, shutting the door behind her as you took off your boots. Robin simply toed off her Converse before leaning against the wall, watching as you sat your shoes neatly by the door. She noticed that you did that every time you took your shoes off, a little quirk of yours. One of many she found incredibly adorable.

"Wanna watch on the big tv in the living room or the small tv in my room?" She asked, pushing off the wall. You bit your lip, glancing at the living room. Robin gently took your hand in hers, bringing your attention back to her, "Don't worry, parents won't be home until way later. But we can watch the movie wherever you are most comfortable." She quickly added and you nodded, making Robin smile.

Taking your hands in hers, she led you back toward the living room where you sat down on the plush cotton couch as Robin went to the kitchen for the snacks and drinks. You pulled your mismatched socked feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your legs as you nestled your chin on your knees, letting out a big sigh.

Robin was everything to you, and you wanted nothing more than to introduce her to your parents as your girlfriend. But you were scared, scared that they wouldn't understand. They were kind, and always supportive of you no matter what. They even let you get a tattoo when you were seventeen. And yet… You couldn't help but wonder what they'd say if they found out you were bisexual. Would they be angry? Disappointed? Disgusted? All these thoughts kept running through your mind.

Robin suddenly walked back into the room, plopping down beside you, and handed you a bowl of popcorn. In her other hand was your favorite blanket of hers, it was made out of fleece, decorated with stripes of black and white. She spread the blanket across both of your laps, before placing her legs over yours as she cuddled closer to your side. Resting the bowl on her legs, you watched as Robin grabbed the tv remote and started the movie.

You really wanted to pay attention to the movie, since it was one of your favorites, but your mind was still racing. Robin seemed to have noticed this, and after a few moments of silence, she reached out to grab your hand gently on her knee, squeezing it reassuringly. "Hey," She whispered softly, as she began playing with a loose strand of your hair as you gazed down at your lap. "Is everything alright?" Your breath caught in your throat, and you blinked back tears. There was a lump forming in your throat as you swallowed thickly.

You finally got the courage to turn and look at her, nodding hesitantly before wiping your eyes, trying to hide your emotions as best as you could as Robin smiled lightly, bringing your hand to her lips as she pressed gentle kisses along the top of your palm before resting your hand in her lap. She waited patiently, her blue eyes scanning your features as she occasionally wiped away your tears as they fell down your cheeks.

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly before speaking, "I'm scared, Robby." You began, voice soft and full of emotion. And Robin knew that whatever you were feeling was important, obviously, but you hardly ever called her Robby. It worried her. Last time you called her Robby was back at the mall. When she was all looped out and unable to stand without getting dizzy. It was a hard memory to remember, but Robin could picture the terrified expression that you had on your face; tears on your cheeks, your eyes wide in fear. She never wanted to see you like that.

"Why, baby?" She asked you softly, rubbing the pad of her thumb against your cheek, her other hand still clutching yours.

"I am scared that my parents won't like you. I'm scared that if I tell them I'm bi they'll hate me and you. Or worse, they'll force me to break up with you. I don't want either of us to lose each other." You admitted a bit rushed, voice cracking as you finished speaking.

Robin frowned slightly, brushing your hair back from your forehead as she leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to the middle of your furrowed brows. "Baby, you won't lose me. Never. I love you too much to lose you. Even if they don't like me, that won't make me leave you. I know how much you love them and I know how much they love you, too. Just think, they'll be happy that you're happy, right?" She encouraged, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles comfortingly.

You sighed softly, looking up into those beautiful ocean-blue eyes staring back at you, "Yeah, I guess you're right." You mumbled, causing Robin to beam.

"And we've been through worse together, right? You saved me from angry Russians and evil monsters. You're brave. You're strong. And you're my hero. We'll make it through anything.” Robin whispered as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against yours.

"You say I'm your hero, but you are the one that saved me. If I ever lost you..." Your words faltered as you nuzzled your nose with hers gently.

Robin hummed, "You won't lose me. I believe in you, that you can do this," She quickly answered, her hands slowly wrapping around your waist. "Now watch the movie before I start tickling." She faux threatened, teasingly wiggling her fingers softly against your sweater, making you giggle.

Smiling softly, watching as Robin started the movie, the sound of the familiar sound of the movie started to fill the air again. Robin scooted closer to you, her legs overlapping yours again as she rested her head on your shoulder, fiddling with your hand in hers. You stayed there, with your best friend, your soulmate, watching TV in complete silence, just enjoying each other's company, and loving each other's warmth. You closed your eyes, relaxing into her hold, letting yourself fall into a deep sleep, wrapped up in her arms.

~~~

Only a couple of weeks later, you waited outside the Family Video for Robin, wearing her denim jacket with the cute patches. You stole it from her when you dropped her off at FV after she got out of school earlier in the day. Well, technically, Robin gave it to you since you always forget yours. You loved her jacket... It smelled just like her. You loved everything she wore. Even the Scoops uniform but you never told her that. You even had one of her shirts, an old gym shirt from freshman year.

Letting out a breath, you watched as your breath vapor swirled into the air, the cloudy, dull air. You stuffed your hands further into Robin's jacket pockets, pulling the denim tighter around yourself. A slight breeze blew past you causing your hair to dance across your face. You were right about to just sit in your warm car until she came out, watching as Robin rushed out of the store.

She dashed over and right into your arms, making you stumble back slightly into the passenger side door. Robin pulled back, holding you by your shoulders as she gave you a once-over. "Look at you, in my clothes," She teased with a smirk, wiggling her eyebrows at you as you tried to contain your smile, rolling your eyes.

"You were the one that gave it to me to wear, Robby-Bobby." You reminded her.

Robin slid her hands down your arms, stopping where they stayed on your waist. “We should get matching outfits. We’d be so cute.” She thought out loud only for you to tilt your head to the side slightly.

“Or maybe we stick to stealing each other’s stuff. I’m worried if we get any cuter we’d blind someone. Almost blinded Steve.” You joked and Robin just let out a laugh, shaking her head before slipping into the passenger seat, you then hopped into the driver's seat.

"Whatever you say. And please remember your jacket. It's going to snow soon and I don't want to have to take care of a sick girlfriend," She scolded lightly, putting your favorite cassette into the player. You just shrugged, starting the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

“So you don’t want me to wear your jacket?” You asked and Robin huffed, putting her feet up on the dash.

“Babe, if it was possible, my clothes would be the only thing you wear.” You wished you could hide your blushing cheeks.

As you began to drive to Robin's, your eyes widened. You quickly turn to Robin once you stop at a red light, "Robs, I have to go to mine real quick. I forgot my notebook." You spoke and Robin just gave you a confused smile.

"You forgot your notebook? You never do that." She replied with furrowed brows while you just shook your head, turning back to watch the light.

"I know, I know, it just slipped my mind after I grabbed my bag. I'll be back soon though, okay?" Robin just nodded, before she leaned over the middle console.

"Fine," She sighed dramatically, gazing at your side profile as you continued to watch the light, "Kiss?" She asked softly, pouting her lips slightly, you glanced at her and at the light once more before you turned to her and quickly pecked her on the lips. As you pulled away, Robin smiled and placed her hand on yours, intertwining your fingers together on the middle console. As the light turned green, you began driving down the road, taking a few turns before you pulled up into your driveway.

Turning off the engine, you let out a sigh, leaning back against the seat. Robin squeezed your hand lightly, drawing your attention to her as she gave you a reassuring smile. "I'll be here when you get back. I'll be jamming out to Cyndi Lauper." She spoke and you nodded, returning her smile before you took your hand back, albeit reluctantly, and grabbed the door handle. Hearing a knock on the window, you looked up, jolting back slightly as you placed your hand on your chest. Your mother gave you a small smile, gesturing for you to open the window.

Cranking the window down, you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at her, "Geez, mom, you scared the heebie jeebies out of me."

She just gave you a shrug, leaning down to pass you your notebook, "I saw you left this at home. Thought I'd save you the trip of going inside." Your mother then turned her attention to Robin beside you, giving her a warm smile. "And you must be my daughter's friend. Robin, right?" She asked and Robin gave her a small smile with a nod. Your mother's smile widened as she gushed, "Oh, she talks so much about you. Thank you for putting up with her. I know how troublesome she gets." Your mother then teased you, making you duck your head in embarrassment.

"There’s no need to worry, Mrs. L/N. Never take my eyes off of her." She joked which made your cheeks blush furiously while your mom laughed heartily, clapping her hands together happily.

"Well, you two have fun! Don't stay up too late. Oh! And I'll bring some muffins over tomorrow morning!" Your mom added, “You’re mom likes my chocolate ones best, right?” She asked Robin who nodded again.

“Yes, ma’am.” She saluted, making your mother smile widely.

“Alright, you get going. I have to get back to my Scrabble. I’m beating your father.” She finished cheerfully, waving you both goodbye as she headed back into the house and you rolled the window back up.

It was quiet between the two of you for a while, you staring down at your lap, fiddling with the edges of your notebook as Robin stared ahead. Robin licked her lips, swallowing as she spoke, "I'm your friend?" She asked quietly and you quickly turned to her to answer.

"You are my best friend, but you are more than that, Robin." You were quick to hold her hand, her hair blocking the side of her face from your sight. "I just haven't gotten there yet. But, they will know, soon, honey." Robin just nodded her head, biting her lip as her eyes began to tear up. Slowly looking up, your small smile fell immediately when you saw her frown and teary eyes. "Hon..." Your words died as Robin's tears finally fell down her cheeks.

She reached up with her other hand to quickly wipe them away, sniffling as she let out a sad sigh. "I'm just upset." She answered simply.

"With me?" You asked, guiltily, only for Robin to shake her head.

"No, I am just being selfish. I'm- I'm upset with myself. I want you to come out to your family, but it's unfair to ask that of you if I couldn't even do that myself. I feel frustrated with myself... Disappointed in myself. I know I say I don't mind what they think about us, but it’s not like you have to tell them. I’m not the boss of you. I'm sorry." Her voice trailed off as she bit her lip nervously.

A long pause filled the air, as you stared at your girlfriend with wide eyes, "Robin," You began, reaching out and grabbing her hand again, pulling yourself closer. Your own eyes threatened to tear up as you before she spoke,

"We should get going," She muttered, breaking the silence. "I think I should just go home today. We can study another day." She finished, looking up at you with her eyes still glassy and wet.

Your entire being filled with dread as she let go of your hand and stared down at her lap. "Are you sure?" You asked, hoping to god that she wasn't breaking up with you.

Robin nodded as she picked at her nail polish, "Yeah, just don't think I'll be able to pay attention and get any homework done tonight, is all." She mumbled and you nodded, twisting the key and starting the engine.

The two of you said nothing as the radio played soft music. You didn't know what to say to make things better. You had no clue where you could start, or how to help her feel better. You parked in her driveway and she unbuckled her seatbelt. You were quick to get out of the car and rush to her side, opening the door for her as she stepped out. She was already halfway to the front door when you shut the door. You could see her shoulders trembling as you made your way to her side. she turned to look up at you, her blue eyes shining with tears. Her bottom lip trembled as she then looked down at her feet.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow?" You asked, more like a question as Robin grabbed her keys from her pocket.

"Alright," She answered softly, as she unlocked the door.

You watched as she went to grab the door handle but you stopped her, "Robin," She looked up at you, eyes still glossy as you bit your lip and quickly looked around the small neighborhood. Finding no one, you were quick to lean in and kiss her on the cheek. "Goodnight, Ro," You whispered, pulling away and giving her one last smile before heading towards your house. You didn't miss the small smile that crossed her face as you made your way back to your car.

~~~

"I don't know, Robs, I think you're fine," Steve said on the other line, Robin holding her phone to her ear as she lay on her bed. "You said she kissed you goodnight, so I doubt she'd break up with you."

Robin sighed as she rubbed her face with her other hand, "I don't even know why I'm talking to you. You're terrible with women and advice." She mumbled making Steve scoff.

"She is not going to break up with you, Robin. Plain and simple. It was just one fight- actually I don't even think this counts as a fight." Steve pondered to himself more than to Robin.

Robin gave a hum of an acknowledgment as she sat up in her bed and brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and burying her face in her legs.

“You know she is obsessed with you, right. I think she still sleeps with that shirt you gave her.” Steve revealed, making her body freeze as a small smile grew on her face. Her free hand moved beside her where she kept one of your shirts as a pillowcase.

"You're probably right, Steve. But I still feel guilty." She answered, her smile turning back into a frown.

"It's alright to feel that way, Buckley. What matters is that you love her and she loves you. Tomorrow, talk about it some more. Communication is key in every relationship.” Steve explained and Robin nodded. She was quick to hang up the phone, before digging her head back into her legs, Fleetwood Mac's 'Say You Love Me,' playing through her small speaker.

~~~

Robin shrugged on her coat as she pushed out the door of Family Video. Looking up, she paused, adjusting her fuzzy collar to stare at the empty parking spot. Her heart plummeted from her chest into her stomach. You weren't there. You usually were early, five minutes to be exact, and now it was a quarter after five; the snow falling softly from the sky, piling on the sidewalk, and you weren't there. Steve furrowed his eyebrows from his seat in his car, turning to Robin, he opened his window.

"Want me to give you a ride?" He called to her, and Robin sighed, already feeling the snow melt and wet her shoes to her socks. Maybe you're just late, yeah...

It's a lot of snow. She might've not been able to get out of the driveway. But... She would've called...

Wordlessly, Robin stepped off the sidewalk, leading to Steve's parked car when your car quickly pulled into the parking lot. She watched, shocked as you parked the car, and quickly got out. Your feet made prints in the snow as you rushed over to Robin. She noticed the determination in your eyes as you stopped in front of her, turning to look at Steve from his seat in his car.

Glaring at the young man, you pointed your finger at him, "I love you but back off my lady, Harrington. She's got her ride." You ordered and Steve chuckled from his seat, shaking his head as you then turned to Robin, looking up at her before looping your finger through the belt loops of her jeans, making her stumble into you. In one swift move, you leaned up and pressed your lips against her gently, yet passionately; sending Robin in a dreamy daze. Robin was quick to pull you close to her, her eyes fluttering shut as she wrapped her arms around your neck. She kissed you back, your sudden confidence surprising her.

You could barely hear Steve groaning from behind the wheel. You broke apart when Steve cleared his throat. The both of you blushed as you pulled away from each other. "PDA to a minimum, please," Steve begged with a small smile before he pulled out of the parking lot.

Robin looked down at you with a smirk, her fears vanquished, "Wow, where did that all come from?" She asked cheekily as she watched your face flush, your eyes widened in embarrassment.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew that I love you." You mumbled shyly, watching as the snow fell upon her; her hair sprinkled with snowflakes. "You look pretty today." You muttered, only for Robin to laugh lightly.

"And I'm not always?" Robin smiled at you, placing your hand on your cheek, stroking your jaw tenderly with her thumb.

"Yeah, but somehow your beauty grows each time I look at you," You added, leaning in and pressing another gentle kiss to her lips.

Robin hummed, "Oh, how the tables have turned. So, miss cheesy pants... Why do I feel like you did something troublesome?" She asked, incredibly captivated by you as her lips softly caressing against yours..

"I didn't do anything." You muttered before pulling away and taking her hand. "Now, come on. I don't want to have to take care of a sick girlfriend." You finished, mimicking her words from just weeks ago, making Robin laugh; her stomach filled with butterflies.

You opened the door for her and quickly got into the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot. The car ride was quiet, except for the radio as you drove slowly, wary of ice. At a light, Robin grabbed your hand from the steering wheel, taking it in hers as she placed it on her thigh, interlacing your fingers together, her thumb tapping the skin of your hand softly to the beat of the current song. You glanced at her briefly, seeing her stunning smile before returning your focus to the road, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Robin tapped along to the beat of the song as she listened to you begin to hum along. She always loved when you sang in the car. She thought your singing was beautiful. She loved the days when you and her just rocked out in the car, singing along to the song you both loved as you drove around the town. But, Robin especially loved it when you stayed the night and you both were cuddling in her bed. Her head resting on your chest as you ran your fingers through her hair; singing a soft lullaby. Another remarkable thing she loved about you.

Looking up from the two of your hands, Robin's fond smile faltered slightly as she watched you pull up into your driveway. Parking the car, Robin noticed the slightly anxious expression on your face, but you were quick to give her a breathtaking smile. "You hungry?" You asked and Robin pursed her lips as she furrowed her eyebrows.

Looking at your house and back to you, Robin spoke, "Why are we at your house?" She asked, and you simply ignored her question, hopping out of the car and going around to open her side. Robin stepped out and watched as you looked everywhere but her as you quickly grabbed her hand and led her to the front door. The closest to your house that she's ever been. She then watched as you fidgeted in your spot, your left foot digging into the concrete as you shook your free hand at your side. Suddenly, before Robin could speak, you looked up at her.

"My mom is making her special meatloaf and soup." Was all you could say, your voice stumbling slightly as Robin just stared at you with a very confused expression.

You opened the door, and stepped into the house, pulling Robin in with you. She watched as you shut the front door, taking off your boots and setting them by the door. Robin slowly, beyond confused at this point, slowly toed off her shoes, setting them beside yours. You then turned back to her and let out a breath before speaking in a small whisper. "I also want to apologize for yesterday-"

Robin began to shake her head, "No, that was all me-"

"Robin. I am sorry." You interrupted her, taking her hands in yours as you looked up into her wide blue eyes. "I am sorry that I made you ever think that I would break up with you about this."

Robin raised her eyebrows, "How- how did you know I was worried about that?" She stumbled over her words, and you bit your lip briefly, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"Steve. He called last night." You answered and Robin groaned, glaring at the ground, noticing your mismatched socks. How cute.

"I'm gonna kill him." She muttered and you shook your head.

"No, Rob, you know he means well. If it helps, I called him a jerk." You finished and Robin sighed, looking up at you, her glare softening completely the moment she looked into your eyes.

"Now, here's the plan." You began, voice still considered a whisper as you leaned in closer to Robin, "We're going to go in there, and I am going to tell them." Robi opened her mouth to protest but you shook your head, "No, hon, I've made my mind up. I am telling them and there is nothing you can do about it. And if they don’t accept us then we’re moving to The Netherlands."

Robin's eyes widened and a small smile grew on her lips, "Your mom was right... You are trouble."

"The best kind." You shrugged, surprising yourself as your eyes widened and you covered your mouth.

"You're getting all shy now? You had such confidence earlier in the parking lot." Robin laughed, trying to stay quiet as she was beginning to smell something good cooking in the kitchen.

"Shush, let's go before I explode." You answered before you began walking to where Robin presumed was the kitchen. She was quick to follow you, taking note of the framed photos of your parents with you at various stages of life. Getting a bit distracted, Robin paused at a photo of you as a baby, holding some weird plush bear with a missing eye and ear. She wondered if you still had that bear. Or even the pale pink baby blanket at your feet. Looking back at baby you, she noticed your little smile, not even looking at the camera as you wore a yellow onesie. You were such a cute baby.

You, on the other hand, gained your parents' attention, both of them finishing up dinner. "Mom, dad... This is-" You paused, looking over to see Robin was gone. Darn her ADHD. Stalking over, you grabbed Robin's arm and pulled her into the entranceway of the kitchen with you, surprising her slightly as she stumbled into your side. You then looked up at Robin before slipping your hand in hers and turning to your parents once more. "Mom, dad, this is Robin... My girlfriend. I like girls and boys." You said, confidently.

It was eerily silent in the kitchen aside from the boiling of the soup pot on the stove. Your mother just stared at you as your father nodded and went back to chopping the veggies. Your heart plummeted and you felt Robin squeeze your hand gently, scooting closer to you.

"We know, dear. Well, we knew you liked the girls part, that's for sure." She let out a laugh, your jaw dropping as you stared at her.

"Huh?" You exclaimed, Robin’s expression on her face very similar to yours as she looked at you and your parents.

Your mother hummed, looking off at the cream walls as if she was remembering something. "When you had those barbie dolls, you had a ballerina Barbie, an Olympic champion sort of Barbie, and some Ken doll. And you'd always made the two barbies kiss. Ken was always on the floor, face down, looking dead…"

You blinked, you didn't remember any of that, but you did remember the dolls, specifically when ballerina Barbie's, (you called her Dolly), arm fell off and you screamed bloody murder. "I was like seven. So you knew for twelve years?" You asked, as your mother hummed again and nodded.

"That sounds about right, your father and we have been waiting for when you would bring someone home. Your father won that bet. And you bringing up Robin all the time made us figure that you two were possibly together.”

You gaped at your mother and narrowed your eyes slightly, "When did you figure that one out? And you betted on me?" You asked as your father finally spoke up.

"I knew you liked her the moment you ranted about your plan on picking her up from school and work every day." He spoke, setting the now dirty in the sink. "I watch all those crime shows, so I knew from day two." He finished and your mother scoffed, softly hitting him with a dish rag.

"I knew it when she was still in school, David. Remember when she came home that one time and showed us her yearbook, I saw the little hearts she drew over Robin's picture." She jested, only for your eyes to widen comically wide as Robin chuckled under her breath.

"You saw that?" You let out, as your mother nodded.

"Yes, dear. Now, Dave, are those carrots done? We have a guest." Your mother then quickly turned to your father, the two getting lost in their own conversation as you looked like a fish out of water.

Robin placed a finger under your chin, pushing it closed. "You'll catch flies, babe."

You breathed out a laugh, looking away from your parents and turning to Robin with a huge smile. Robin matched your smile, taking her time to move a strand of your hair out of your face. You took a hold of her hand, pressing it into your cheek as you closed your eyes. "I can't believe it." Robin muttered softly, as you opened your eyes, moving her hand over your mouth where you pressed a kiss to her palm.

"I can't believe it either, but then again we did fight interdimensional demons." You joked, as Robin's cheeks reddened, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah, yeah. You are soooo funny." She grumbled teasingly, dragging her words along, as you just smirked up at her.

"Damn right I am, I'm hilarious."

Robin said nothing but smiled, leaning forward to peck your lips lightly. "I love you, you know." She whispered before she leaned back again.

"I love you too, Robin." You replied, smiling admiringly at her. She grinned, her nose scrunching adorably as she gave you another kiss.

~~~

“You drew hearts over my yearbook picture?”

“I hate you.”

“Liar.”

156 notes · View notes

fetusgooseandjuice · 1 year

Text

You’re All I Need

Pairings: Yelena Belova x fem!reader | WandNat x daughter!yelena

Summary: You and your dad move next door to Yelena and her moms. It’s only a matter of time before you two fall in love.

Alternative Universe: Natasha and Wanda are married with Yelena as their daughter. Yelena and Y/N are in high school. The MCU plot doesn't exist.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions drugs and alcohol addiction

(Mom: Wanda)

(Mama: Natasha)

"Lena!" Wanda called from downstairs.

Yelena got up from her bed and jogged down the stairs. She found her mom standing in the kitchen holding a plate of brownies with saran wrap covering them.

"Stop calling me Lena," she whined, walking into the kitchen.

Wanda chuckled, "Can you run these brownies over to the neighbors? They just moved in, and I'd like to make them feel welcomed." Wanda responded, putting the plate in Yelena's hands.

"Sure I guess. The neighbors to the right or left?" she asked, slipping on her shoes.

"Detka, we live on a corner. We only have neighbors to our left." Natasha said as she walked into the kitchen.

"Oh right." she realized, and Natasha playfully rolled her eyes.

"Just take the brownies and go. Be polite!" Natasha managed to get out before Yelena shut the door.

She walked down the door step and turned down the side walk, making her way to the neighbors house. When she got there, she rang the door bell and waited.

When the door opened, she was met by a tall, clean cut man who looked like he was getting ready for bed.

"Hi, I'm Yelena. I live next door, and my mothers wanted me to give you these brownies as a welcoming gift." she politely said, holding out the brownies for the man to grab.

"Oh well thank you. They look delicious." he responded, taking the plate from Yelena's hands.

"Yeah, my mom loves to bake so," she trailed off with a light chuckle.

"Tell your mothers I said thank you. My daughter has such a sweet tooth, so she'll love them. I'm Matthew." he said with a small smile.

"Nice to meet you. I better get going since dinners going to be ready soon." she replied.

"Alright, enjoy your evening, Yelena." he told her.

"You too." she said with a nod of her head as she walked off.

Yelena walked back to her house and opened the door, kicking off her shoes. She made her way into the kitchen where her moms were sharing small kisses.

"Oh my god ew. You have a child who lives in this house, please stop." she dramatically covered her eyes.

Wanda and Natasha softly laughed, "When you find someone to love, you won't be able to keep you hands to yourself either, dorogoy." Natasha said.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Is dinner done? I'm starving over here." Yelena sat down at the dinner table.

"I just finished it while you were over at the neighbors." Wanda stated, putting the dogs food on three different plates while Natasha helped her carry them to the table, setting them down.

Wanda and Natasha sat down with Yelena and began eating, "Were the neighbors nice?" Wanda

questioned.

"Yeah, his name was Matthew and he has a daughter. I'm not sure how old though or what her name is." she responded.

"It was just him and his daughter?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah I guess so. I didn't see anyone else and he only mentioned a daughter." Yelena spoke quickly so she could go back to stuffing her face.

Natasha raised her eyebrow, "You act like we don't feed you, child."

"Well I didn't eat lunch because the school lunch was sucky today." she explained.

"Do you need us to start making your lunch again?" Wanda questioned.

"As long as it's you making it and not mama. She can't even cook frozen foods to save her life." Yelena jokingly insulted.

"Um, I'm sitting right here." Natasha reminded her.

"Oh my bad. I just forget sometimes since you're so short." Yelena giggled, but stopped when Natasha flung a spoonful of mac and cheese at her face.

"Hey!" Yelena exclaimed.

"Natasha, we don't throw food at our child." Wanda gave her wife a stern look.

"Well tell our child that I'm not that short!" Natasha whined.

"You shouldn't be asking her for reassurance. She's your wife, so she's just gonna say whatever makes you happy. You should ask someone like me who's going to tell you the truth, and the truth is you're short." Yelena teased.

"I swear I'm gonna-" she abruptly cut herself off when she got up to chase Yelena around the kitchen.

Wanda just watched them, sighing and sinking back into her chair with her glass of wine, "One day...I'll get that month long vacation in the Bahamas I've been dreaming about for years." she whispered under her breath.

~~~

"Alright Yelena, go wash your face and then come back down and load the dishwasher." Wanda said after dinner was done, and Yelena just nodded her head.

She made her way up the stairs and into her bedroom. She was about to open the door to her bathroom before something caught her eye. Looking out her window, she could see into a window of her new neighbors house.

The light was on, so she could see two people standing in the room. One of which being the man she spoke to earlier, and the other being what she assumed was his daughter. Yelena eyes slightly widen at the sight of the beautiful young girl who looked to be around her age.

But they softened when she realized the the two of them were arguing based on how their mouths were moving, and their facial expression.

She didn't realize she was staring at the scene until the man left the room and she made contact with the young girl. She tried to avert her eyes away, but it was too late as the girl had already noticed her.

She watched her walk towards her window and open it, so she did the same.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare." Yelena awkwardly apologized.

"It's okay. I know that's not something you typically see everyday." she spoke sympathetically.

"If you don't mind me asking, does that happen everyday?" Yelena questioned.

"Not everyday because my dad works a lot, so most of the time he's not here. But whenever he is here, it happens pretty often." she looked down.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Yelena didn't really know what to say to the girl.

"Don't be. I'm Y/N." she voiced with a small smile on her face.

"Yelena." was all she could get out as she was too stunned by the girl's beautiful smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Yelena." she kindly replied.

"What made you guys wanna move to Greenwood?" Yelena asked.

"My dads job. He works a lot, so he got a promotion. We decided to move so we could be closer to his new office." she explained.

Yelena nodded in understanding, "I-" she was cut off when Wanda called for her, reminding her to do the dishes.

She sighed and let her head fall back, wanting to talk to Y/N more.

"It's okay, we can keep talking later. How late do you stay up?" Y/N asked.

"Depends. How late do you want me to stay up?" she reversed the question.

Y/N chuckled, "I'll flicker my lights 3 times to get your attention."

"I'll be paying attention." Yelena said smile with a smile before saying goodbye to Y/N, and shutting her window.

She took a few deep breaths to get rid of the blush on her cheeks before making her way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Who were you talking to up there?" Natasha furrowed her eyebrows.

"No one." Yelena replied to keep herself from smiling.

"Oh come on. I could hear you talking to someone from down here. Who was it?" Natasha asked.

"It was just the neighbors daughter, Y/N." this time, Yelena couldn't still the smile that was making itself known on her face.

"The neighbors daughter is causing you to smile like you're in a haunted house?" Natasha teased.

"Mom says my smile is cute!" Yelena defended herself.

"Your mom just says whatever will make you happy." Natasha said which made Yelena roll her eyes, realizing that her mama was using her own comeback against her.

"Who's making who smile?" Wanda questioned as she walked into the room.

"The neighbors daughter, Y/N, makes Yelena blush just by thinking about her." Natasha spoke up.

"Ooo has our little baby found someone to swoon over?" Wanda joined in on the teasing.

"Okay, okay calm down. I just met her, let me live my life in peace, please." Yelena said as she finished the dishes.

"We're just teasing, detka." Natasha said, kissing her daughters cheek.

Yelena hummed, "I'm going to head up to bed early." she said before running up the stairs.

Wanda and Natasha paused to looked at each other, "She's not really going to bed is she?" Wanda asked.

"Nope. She's going to talk to Y/N." Natasha said in a sing-song voice. Wanda just rolled her eyes at her wife's antics.

~~~

A few months have passed, and you and Yelena have grown extremely close. Falling into the habit of one of you flickering your lights three times, and then either opening your windows to talk, or using paper to write on and then putting it up to the window for the other person to read.

'What do you mean? Math is so easy, it's like my favorite subject.' you wrote on your paper and showed it to Yelena.

'Well then I'm going to need you to tutor me before I fail this upcoming test because I am hopeless.' Yelena wrote back and you laughed.

You went to write something when you noticed Natasha walk into the room.

"Yelena, what are you still doing up? You have school tomorrow." she asked, but her question was answered when she saw Yelena sitting at her window with her notebook and marker in hand. Then she saw you sitting in your window.

You waved to her and Natasha just gave you a smile, "It's time to say goodnight, dorogoy. You've gotta get to sleep." she said softly.

"I will just give me one sec." Yelena said, looking down to write something on her paper.

'I've got to go, Y/N. I'll see you at school tomorrow?' she wrote.

You read it before responding, 'Of course :) Good night, Lena <3'

Yelena smiled brightly at you before standing up and heading over to her bed to lay down. Natasha took her notebook off the windowsill to write something, 'You need to go to bed as well, Y/N. Goodnight.'

She showed the paper to you and you wrote down your response, 'Have a nice night, Mrs. Romanoff :)' you flipped your paper around before turning off your bedroom light and heading to sleep.

"Does our little sweetheart have a crush?" Natasha playfully teased.

"Stop,” Yelena groaned, her cheeks blushing.

"It's okay if you do, honey." Natasha reassured, sitting on the edge of the bed to look at her daughter.

"I guess I do, mama. But, she probably doesn't even feel the same way." Yelena sighed.

"Now that's exactly what I thought about your mother when we were your age, but look at us now." she spoke gently.

"I just don't know how or when to tell her."

"You might not know now, but when the time is right you'll know." Natasha put her hand on Yelena's shoulder and leaned down to kiss her forehead before getting up to walk out of the room.

"Are you sure she likes me?" Yelena asked.

"They say mama knows best for a reason." she smiled and turned off the light, shutting the door.

Yelena sighed and tried to stop thinking about Y/N so she could go to sleep, but it was nearly impossible.

~~~

A few weeks later, you and Yelena had gotten paired together for a school project. So, you were walking home with Yelena after school to work on the project at her house.

"I'm home!" Yelena called out as she entered the house with you following behind her.

"Hey darling!" Wanda called out. Yelena followed the voice through the house and found her mom sitting on the couch in the living room.

"How was-" Wanda cut herself off when Yelena appeared in her line of vision with you by her side.

"Well hello, Y/N! Yelena didn't tell me she was bringing you with her." Wanda said looking between the two of you.

"Our last period teacher gave us a project due when we go back on Monday, so it was kind of last minute. I thought I'd bring her home today and have her come over this weekend to work on it." Yelena explained.

"That's okay. Are you guys hungry? I know you've probably had a long day." Wanda asked.

"We're fine, we'll just wait until dinner." Yelena answered.

"Alright, but if you do get hungry before then, don't be afraid to let me know." Wanda made sure Y/N felt welcomed in her home.

"Okay, thank you." you answered before Yelena took your hand to try and lead you upstairs.

"Make sure you actually get some work done!" Wanda called out. You couldn't stop to say anything as Yelena was pulling on your arm.

She flopped down on her back onto her bed while you sat in the chair at her desk, turning to look at her, "Your mom is really nice." you said.

"Yeah, but sometimes it can be a bit much. I love her though." Yelena responded.

"She just wants what's best for you. That's what every good mother wants." you spoke.

Yelena stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. You noticed how deep in thought she was, "What're you thinking about?" you questioned, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed next to Yelena.

She turned her head to look at you, "Has it always just been you and your dad?" she curiously asked.

"For a while. My mom left when I was ten, and I'm sixteen now, so it's been six years." you replied, laying down on your side next to her so you could face her.

"Do you know why she left?" Yelena asked.

"Not exactly. But I know she had...a lot of issues with alcohol and drugs, so I just assumed it was because of that." you explained.

"Oh. Is that why your dad works so much? Because he has to provide for both of you now without any help?" she questioned.

"For the most part. He wanted to give me a better life than what I had when my mom was around, so he works 24/7 to make extra money. But that's why a lot of our fights start. Because he's gone all the time." you said. Yelena nodded.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to make it seem like this is twenty-one questions. I was just curious." Yelena apologized.

"No it's okay, I get it." you said and silence was the loudest noise in the room for a few seconds until Yelena spoke up, changing the subject.

"You know, everyone's seen the way America's been looking at you, at school. She practically has hearts in her eyes and drool coming out of her mouth." yelena gently said, turning her head to look at you, and you chuckled.

"Yeah, I know." you sighed.

"I'm pretty sure she's planning on asking you to homecoming. Do you know about that?" she asked, talking in a softer voice.

"No, but i'm not surprised. Any ideas on how to kindly reject someone?" you answered, matching the volume of her voice.

"Reject her? Why would you do that? Is she not good enough for you or something?" Yelena playfully teased.

You smiled, "No, she's just not my type. Not the person I wanna go out with." you explained.

"Really? Then who is?" she asked.

You sighed with a smile, "Oh, I don't know. Probably this blond haired girl with gorgeous green eyes. She acts like a literal puppy whenever someone makes mac and cheese."

Yelena laughed, "Oh yeah? Tell me more about this blond haired girl."

"She is extremely bad at math. I wouldn't advise copying off of her answers even if you think you're going to fail because then you are bound to fail. And..." you trailed off, thinking for a moment while Yelena raised her eyebrows, waiting for you to finish.

"Oh, and absolutely hates when people call her 'Lena', but for some apparent reason she loves it whenever I do it." you finished.

You laughed with each other for a few seconds until you relaxed. This was when you noticed how close your faces were. Merely inches apart. You looked from her eyes to her lips. Yelena took note of that, and brought it upon herself to make the first move.

She slowly leaned in, giving you time to stop her just in case you didn't want this. When her lips connected with yours, she relaxed feeling you kiss her back.

She pulled away after a few seconds to look at you, "Is this okay?" she asked, gently.

You nodded you head and she connected your lips again, but it only lasted for a few short moments when her mother called for her from downstairs.

"Yelena, Y/N, dinners done!"

She sighed, throwing her head back while you just giggled, "Come on." you pulled Yelena off the bed and down the stairs while she groaned.

"Yelena, could you get drinks, please?" Wanda asked, setting plates of food down at the table, sitting down along with Natasha.

She nodded and looked down at you, "What do you want?" she softly asked.

"I'll just have water." you gave her a small smile. She hummed an okay and went off into the kitchen to get drinks.

You sat down in the seat across from Natasha, "The food looks lovely, Mrs. Romanoff." you complimented, looking at Wanda.

"Thank you, darling. It's one of my favorites." she grinned.

"Have you ever taken any cooking classes? Because this looks like something you'd find in a restaurant." you said and Wanda chuckled.

"You flatter me too much. No, I'm just that talented." Wanda jokingly boosted her own ego, looking up as Yelena returned with the drinks.

"Y/N, you must be really special since Yelena asked you what you wanted to drink. We normally have to just be happy with whatever she brings back." Natasha teased.

"Hey, Y/N is the guest, so she gets the guest treatment." Yelena defended herself.

"Okay okay, just sit down, and eat your food." Natasha said.

You all dug into your food, sitting in a comfortable silence until Wanda began to talk, "So Y/N, how's school going for you?"

"It's okay I guess. School is school so," you trailed off which made Natasha and Wanda chuckle.

Yelena shook her head in amusement, "She only says that because she knows she's a straight A student. She doesn't like to brag, but I do."

"Straight A student, huh? Are you in any extracurricular activities yet?" Natasha asked through the food in her mouth.

"Mama, don't talk with food in your mouth." Yelena grimaced.

"My bad." she apologized.

You spoke up to answer her question, "I’m a student aid during my study hall period and sometimes after school. I just got an offer to join honor society, and I made the varsity cheer team for basketball season."

"Varsity cheer? Congrats! It sounds like you’re doing really well so far." Wanda chimed in.

"Yeah, I just thought it would be easier to make friends at school by joining clubs since I enrolled late." you nodded your head.

"And I’m doing basketball again this year, remember? So Y/N's gonna be at my games since she's doing cheer." Yelena smiled brightly, but tried to calm herself a little bit when her moms looked at her with teasing expressions.

She continued her conversation with her parents when you accidentally dropped your napkin. Yelena watched you lean down to reach for it, so she covered the corner of the table with her hand to keep your head from hitting it.

When you sat back up, your head bumped Yelena’s hand instead of the table. You placed the napkin back on your lap and focused your attention on the conversation.

Both Wanda and Natasha noticed the action, and they glanced at each other with subtle smirks before looking back at Yelena just as quick.

When dinner was done, Wanda began to clear the table. "Do you need any help, Mrs. Romanoff?" you asked.

"Thanks for the offer, darling, but I'm okay." she answered.

"By the way mom, is it okay if Y/N just stays the night? I know she didn't really come prepared for that, but I was gonna give her some of my clothes, and I'm sure we have extra toothbrushes around here somewhere." Yelena questioned, walking into the kitchen.

"I don't have a problem with it, honey. Just make sure you go to bed at a reasonable time." Wanda said.

"Sweet, thanks mom." she walked over to give her mom a kiss on the cheek before dragging you back upstairs to her room.

"Do you normally sleep in hoodies and pants, or t-shirt and shorts?" Yelena asked, rummaging through her drawers.

"T-shirt and shorts are fine." you smiled sweetly at her.

She handed you one of her shirts and a pair of shorts that didn't fit her anymore, "The bathroom is right there, so you can change in there if you want." she pointed to a door beside her dresser.

You nodded your head, and walked into the bathroom to change. Yelena laid down on her bed, scrolling through her phone while waiting for you. She sat there for a few moments until the door opened and you walked out wearing the t-shirt that almost completely covered the shorts she had given you.

"You look absolutely adorable." she grinned, sitting up on her bed to swing her legs over the edge, placing her feet on the floor.

"Well these are your clothes so," you smiled, walking towards her.

"And you look stunning in my clothes." she reached for you, gently resting her hands on your hips to pull you closer.

You hummed, having to lean down to kiss her since you were taller than her at the moment as she was sitting down. Once again, your lips only got to touch each other's for a few moments until someone knocked on the door.

She groaned when you jumped away from her, moving to sit propped up against the headboard so your position wouldn’t seem too compromising. Yelena waited for a moment to answer, giving you time.

"Yeah?" she called out, and a Natasha opened the door.

"Your mom left some blankets and extra pillows downstairs on the couch for you guys. She didn't know where Y/N was sleeping, so she just left them there for you to get."

"Okay thanks, mama. Goodnight, I love you." she said.

"I love you too, darling. Goodnight Y/N." Natasha nodded at you.

"Goodnight Mrs. Romanoff." you smiled before she closed the door.

"I swear, every time." she exhaled.

You lightly giggled, "We can just go watch a movie or something, it's okay."

She pouted, clearly wanting to go back to what you were doing, but you just grabbed her hand and led her downstairs. When you got to the living room, you situated the blankets and pillows on the couch to make it more comfortable.

"Do you want popcorn or any snacks?" Yelena asked once you finished.

"Popcorn is okay." you responded, going with her into the kitchen to make the popcorn and grab a water. When you were done, you brought the bowl of popcorn and drinks into the living room, turning off the lights and setting them on the end table while you established a cuddling position.

Yelena laid down on the couch and you snuggled into her side, resting your head on her chest while her arm wrapped around you. She turned on the tv and scrolled through the options, choosing one that she remembered you saying had interested you.

The movie was only on for about ten minutes when something else occupied Yelena's thoughts, "Y/N?"

You moved your head to look up at her, "I know I don't have a huge sign, or bags of candy and flowers, but will you go to homecoming with me?" she asked, hopefully.

You grinned brightly, "Of course I will. But, I don't need any of that extra stuff, I just need you." you said and it made her smile, holding you tighter.

"I had a feeling you'd say that, but I'm still going to get you something anyways." she told you.

"You had a feeling I'd say yes, or that I just need you?" you questioned.

"Both." she said with a smile, lifting your head up so she could kiss you. You'd been longing to have a proper kiss like this one, so you got lost in each other very quickly. She flipped your positions, settling between your legs.

Your hands cupped her cheeks to hold her close. The movie and everything quickly became forgotten. So forgotten that the fact that you were in this house with Yelena's parents had slipped both of your minds.

That was until you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You were aware of them, while Yelena was not as she was so fixated on your lips. You tried to pull away to warn her.

"Lena-" you said, but were cut off when she only hummed and continued with her ministrations.

"Hey Yelena, have you seen-" Natasha's voice rang through the living room, but she was stunned by shock.

This time it was Yelena who jumped back in a panic, "Mama I-", she started, but couldn't find the words to finish her sentence.

"Oh my god- I am going to pretend like I did not just see that." she was speechless.

Yelena couldn't find the words to explain what her mama just witnessed, and you sure enough weren't going to open your mouth.

"I get it, okay. You guys are teenagers and you like each other, but please do not do…that…on my couch. I use this couch daily and I cannot live knowing that my daughter and her girlfriend did…that…on it. I won't tell your mother, but please don't take it further while your mom and I are home." she tried to reason.

"Okay, thank you for not telling mom." Yelena finally spoke up.

Natasha hummed in acknowledgement.

"Sorry, Mrs. Romanoff." you had an apologetic look on your face.

"It's okay, Y/N. You're a sweet girl. Yelena don't do anything dumb." she turned to walk back up the stairs.

"Hey!"

"I'm just messing with you, detka. Go back to your movie— or whatever you were doing.” she said, walking up the rest of the stairs and Yelena groaned.

"I think we should just stick to cuddling the rest of the night." you quietly suggested.

Yelena sighed, but agreed anyway. You returned to the spots you had been previously watching the moving in, and it wasn’t long before you both became so comfortable that you fell asleep.

When Wanda and Natasha woke up the next morning and found you, they of course had to take pictures to later tease their daughter with.

~~ end ~~

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #yelena belova #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda marvel #wanda maximov #wanda maximilf #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #alternative universe #natasha marvel #yelena marvel #wandanat

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afyrian · 2 days

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ch. 6 - december 25 masterlist

"no, i'm just watching a movie, making some cookies to pass the time. rin left yesterday... so it's just me," you stand in the kitchen with kiyoko on the other side of a video call.

you can tell that she's sitting on a couch, tanaka's shoulder resting against hers. their beautifully decorated house sits as the background for the warm environment your screen encompasses. it's hard not to feel jealous of the life that she leads, the loving partner, the amazing home. however, you find yourself remembering your homey apartment, best friend who is better than any life partner.

"if we hadn't gone to ryū's family's home today, we would've invited you over, i hope you know that."

you nod, mixing a few toppings into the dough, giving her a smile, "i know! i'm fine with it, it's finally given me some time to bake something and watch something other than an action movie."

it's rather obvious that your laugh that follows is forced, hoping that you saying it would make it real. and it’s rather easy for kiyoko to recognize just how intertwined you are with rintarō, even if it's not so obvious to you.

"you know, we should go on a double date sometime. since suna is technically your husband," she runs her hand through her hair, lowering her phone some.

you hold back a smile at the sound of 'husband', your eyes focused on the ball of cookie dough in your hand. heat rises to your cheeks as grab some saran wrap to store it in the fridge for a couple hours. "well, just technically, so it'd basically just be a hangout. since you know, i don't know if he'd necessarily be up for date- or if i would even-"

a knock at your apartment door abruptly stops your rambling. your thought process quickly ends and you quickly wipe your hands down on a hand towel. "sorry, i gotta grab this, talk to you later?"

kiyoko gives you a quick nod and an 'absolutely'. you take in a deep breath and make your way to be front door, your clothes old and covered in ingredients. when you open the door, you don't initially see anyone. for a second, you contemplate if it was someone simply knocking and running; however, a large brown bag sits at your feet.

it resembles that of a restaurant's bag, a little note written on it saying 'from rin'. you grab it by the handle and shut the door, smelling your favorite food's aroma. all of your worry melts away as you open it to find a small note and an array of a nearby restaurant's food. you simply can't hold back your smile now as you open the little note.

'y/n, i know we couldn't be together today, and everyone else is busy, so here's something that may cheer you up! if not, i'll make it up to you by watching some romcom when i get back. from, rin.'

below it is something else written in parenthesis, likely from the driver's perspective, '(you have a lovely boyfriend)'. you take in a deep breath and remember the past six months with him, remember the breakfasts he’s made, the memories you’ve made every day. he’s truly the only guy for you and he doesn’t even know it.

tears build up, from a little mix of joy and sadness. joy that you have the greatest man in your life. the man who will pick you up when your hours from home. the man that will make you breakfast when you just don’t feel like it. the very same man who will send you something on christmas just so that you don’t feel lonely.

however, he also happens to be the same man that doesn’t feel the same way as you. that can look so lovingly into your eyes and only feel an ever budding friendship. that can go years without ever saying a word about how the two of them could be more than what they were. it’s a double edged sword and your unsure of where the blade will land.

a/n: i’ve been wanting to write an angsty chapter and i keep putting it off ://

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #the longest contract #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #suna rintaro #suna x reader #haikyuu suna #suna rintaro haikyuu #haikyu x reader #x fem!reader

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gee-daddy-way · 18 days

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL SAVOUR IM WRITING A FIC

It was eight in the morning, and I found myself at my bestfriends door. A gift in one had, and a plate of saran wrapped pancakes in the other(yes I made pancakes at my apartment a few doors down and brought them over here.)

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys, finding the one that unlocked his door and shoving it into the keyhole. I placed the pancakes on the counter along with the gift and crept to his room.

I tiptoed 3along the creaky floor boards, trying not to wake him. Until I flung the door open and yelled "HAPPY BIRTHDAY GERARD!" He shot up in bed, apparently not expecting that to happen.

it took a second to register but after a moment he said a quick "thank you" and then asked what I was doing here so God damn early.

"I made you breakfast...I guess I should have brought it in here. I can grab it if you want?" i offered. "no it's fine, I just uhhh, need to get dressed" he mumbled. i nodded and turned to leave the room, waiting for him at the counter.

the pancakes were still warm, and I had brought a can of whipped cream in my bag. (how convenient) I knew that it was going to end up in a mess though, all over the place. in his hair, in my hair, over the counter, and maybe even on the floor. and 100% on our clothes.

I had waited about five minutes before gerard was out. "here" I shoved the plat towards him "thanks" he smiled, but his eyes really lit up when I pulled the can out if my bag.

hesitantly, I passed it to him. "Now I know what your thinking but-" too late, I already had a blob of whipped cream on my nose, and he was doing it to himself too. (remind me to never trust gerard with whipped cream.)

"hey!" I laughed "you know you love it, because you love me" he smirked

"oh shut up and open your present!" I slide the gift towards him. he opens it and he smiles widely "You got me new watercolors!? thank you so much (y/n)!" he pulls me in for a hug.

"you know your right.." I say "huh?" he looked confused as hell.

"your right about me loving you"

"oh...Well I love you too (y/n)! " he smiled again.

"really?"

"really."

he gave me a quick kiss. "happy birthday Gerard" thanks (y/n) your the best"

(I hate myself so much, someone take this shit away from me, it was rushed bc there is like no time till his bday ends omg helpppppppp)

#gerard way #happy birthday #happy birthday gerard #gerard #way #mcr #my chemical romance #my chem #my chemical fucking romance #yuhhhh #idk #what #to #put #here #happy #birthday

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

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A Fervid Fixation Chapter 7: Smolder

Series: A Fervid Fixation

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Drake

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Word Count: 4,304

My other stuff: Master List.

“Fuck that was insane!” Riley laughed as she peered out the front window of the plane. She’d never sat in the cockpit before, but life with Drake was proving to be one adventure after the other.

“I’m just so fucking grateful you didn’t fall for his bullshit!” Drake let out a sigh of relief as Cordonia faded behind them.

Riley regarded him thoughtfully as she pondered rather or not to tell him that she still wasn’t one hundred percent sure about his innocence. She was fairly certain they had both been lying about parts of it.

She just preferred his lies to Liam’s.

She decided to change the subject instead, “Remember when you asked me if Liam had proposed on coronation night if I would have said yes?”

“I remember…”

“I would have said yes.”

His eyes slide sideways to take her in before returning to the instrument panel, “Why are you telling me this right now?”

“I would have said yes, and I would have married him. But only so I could have stayed in Cordonia, near you!”

He missed the switch he had been about to toggle as his eyes darted to her and had to make a second run at it, “What?”

“I didn’t understand why you were acting the way you were toward me, but I wasn’t giving up.”

“Not giving up? Riley, you acted like you hated me half of the time!”

“Look who’s talking,” she said wryly.

A short laugh broke out of him, “Okay, point taken!”

“But despite everything, here we are.” She reached across to rub his shoulder.

“Here we are,” he agreed.

“You’ve proven that you’ll never give up on me and I want you to know that I’ll never give up on you, either. We’re a team now!”

“Wait!” Drake’s head snapped toward her, “are we…are we talking about a relationship now? All I had to do was hijack an airplane and fight a battalion of King’s Guards to get you to discuss the future with me?”

“Hahaha,” she moved her hand back to her own lap, “But yes. I needed to know that you weren’t going to ice me out again before I let myself fully trust you. I think you’ve just proven your commitment to this relationship.”

Despite the fact that he had just committed felony theft of government property and possibly treason, Drake felt his heart soar and he convinced himself that everything was going to work out. “You just said we’re in a relationship.”

“Shut up and fly the plane, Walker.”

“Don’t change the subject! We’re a couple now! You have to start slipping love notes into my lunch bag or something.”

“Absolutely not!”

“Why not? Isn’t that a thing that couples do?”

“It’s not a thing that I do! Have you ever known anyone that actually did shit like that?”

“My mom used to do it.”

“Give you love notes in your lunch bag?”

“No, not me. But my dad worked late a lot, so we had dinner without him pretty regularly. My mom always saved him a plate and if we were going to bed before he was going to be home, she’d wrap the plate in saran wrap and leave a note under it for him.”

“Ah, that’s sweet.”

“Yeah, it was kind of a joke between them. She was really bad at other forms of communication. Never answered the phone, didn’t respond to letters-“

“Probably because she was busy with you and your sister. I bet you were a real hellion.”

“You make a solid point. My point is that even though she didn’t do any of that other stuff, she always left that note under his plate when he was late.”

“Sounds like she loved him very much.”

“She did,” he agreed, “You wouldn’t do that for me?”

“No.”

“No?” he cried in mock indignation.

“Okay,” she laughed, “I’ll make a deal with you. If I’m ever preparing a meal for you that we’re not going to eat together, which by the way, is never going to happen because I don’t like to cook. Why the hell would I cook if we’re not even going to eat it together? If you have to work late, take out is a thing that exists. But if I did….then okay, I’ll leave you a damn note. Happy?”

“You make me happy,” He told her, “Note or no note.”

“Good! Because if you want love notes in your lunch, you have to start changing my oil and shit, right? Isn’t that a thing that couples do?”

“Do you have a car?”

“No, but that’s not the point. I want to know that if I had a car, you would change the oil for me!”

“Tell you what. I’ll buy you a car and then I’ll change the oil in it. How’s that?”

They continued their discussion about what people in relationships were supposed to do until they were circling an abandoned airstrip in Auvernall a scant forty-five minutes later. “We’re going to land here, off everyone’s radar. I have a friend who left a jeep nearby that we’ll use for transportation. I’ll keep in touch with my contacts back in Cordonia and if the airport isn’t safe, we’ll cross the border into Greece by train or on foot.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought this all through.”

His jaw clenched, “Yes, but not because I was planning to have to get you out of the country all along as Liam implied. I’ve always had an escape plan just in case.”

“Have things with Liam been that bad?”

He shook his head, “Never. We’ve always been close. But as I said, I’ve seen what happens to others who cross him and it’s always wise to have an exit strategy, even if you never need it.”

“Okay then.”

He put the plane down on the runway and brought it to a stop just outside the empty terminal. He glanced at his watch, “It’s almost nine p.m. local time, late enough for the darkness to give us some cover, early enough that it’s not suspicious to be out on the roads.”

Riley gazed at the distance between the plane and the runway, “How are we getting out?”

“Gravity,” he smirked at her.

“What about our luggage?” she asked as he opened the door.

“We’ll toss it down,” he told her since there was no landing ramp, “Then I’ll jump down after it, then you’ll jump, and I’ll catch you!”

The suitcases went first, followed by Drake. He landed on his feet, made a visual sweep of the area then looked back up and held his arms out, “Okay, it’s your turn!”

She took a deep breath and then leapt out of the plane, completely trusting in his ability to catch her.

She thudded into his arms, knocking him back, but he kept his feet under him as he caught her then lowered her to the ground, “Told you I’d catch you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

He let himself get distracted by that kiss. He should have heard them sooner, but he was lost in the sweet ocean of bliss that was Riley Brooks.

The sound of boots on pavement penetrated his consciousness and he pulled his head away while tugging her body closer to him as he assessed the danger.

Auvernese soldiers melted out of the night and descended upon them, pulling them apart.

They reached for each other but to no avail.

Riley was pulled out of Drake’s grasp as she twisted her body around, trying to keep him in her sight.

“Riley! Riley!” He broke free and scrambled toward her, making it only a few feet before he was intercepted and wrestled to the ground. They zip-tied his hands behind his back as he struggled to get back up. A rifle butt struck him in the back of his head. Riley screaming his name was the last thing he heard before waking up in a jail cell.

“But….we don’t have an extradition treaty with Auvernall,” Drake sat in an eight by eight cell holding his aching head in his hands.

“We do now,” Liam said cooly as he adjusted his cufflinks without a care in the world. As if he hadn’t just imprisoned his lifelong best friend in a jail cell.

“How?” Auvernall and Cordonia had been trying unsuccessfully to come to terms for years.

“I signed a betrothal agreement with Auvernall. My firstborn child will marry one of the Achilles twins.”

“You don’t have a firstborn child!”

“Not yet,” Liam gave him a victorious grin, “But I’m confident Riley can help me with that.”

“No!” Drake yelled as Liam turned and exited the cellblock, “No!”

“Riley, come on love. Please. You have to eat something!” Liam pleaded. He was perplexed by her behavior. It had been two weeks and she was still being truculent and unreasonable.

“I don’t want anything to eat, Liam,” she glared at him from her seat by the window, her food untouched on the small table across the room, “and I want out of this fucking place!”

“The palace?” he asked in surprise, “is something not to your liking? I can have the kitchen make whatever you want. Or is it the room? Would you like a bigger one? Just tell me what you need!”

“It may be a palace, but it’s a fucking prison for me, isn’t it?”

“Of course not!”

“So, I can leave? Call a car around and go to the airport right now?”

“Riley, it’s not safe yet! I’m still investigating-“

“Right.” She turned away from him to stare out across the palace grounds.

Liam sat down behind her, his hand brushing the hair from her neck, “Please tell me what I can do to make you happy.”

“I want to see Drake.”

Liam sighed, “Why, Riley? What purpose would it serve?”

“I need to make sure he’s all right!”

“He’s fine,” Liam dropped his hands away from her body and stood up, “You still believe in his innocence?”

“Yes.”

“I have something to show you.”

Liam knocked softly on Riley’s door. It was late and he hoped he wasn’t waking her.

“Come in,” she called.

It had been a month since her little escapade with Drake and he was sure she was starting to come around. “Have you given any more thought to my proposal?”

“I have,” Riley sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair.

“And?”

He had broken his engagement with Madeleine. Tariq had publicly cleared her name. His father was dead, and all his objections to this union with him. All the obstacles between them had been removed.

All but one.

She laid the brush carefully on the table in front of her and turned to face him, “I want to say yes, Liam, but I have conditions.”

“Name them!” He bent down and grasped her hands in his, bringing them to his mouth to drop kisses along the backs of them.

“I want to see Drake-“

Liam dropped her hands and jolted back, “Why? I thought we had put this to rest! He-“

Riley stood up and placed her hands on his shoulders, “If you’ll listen!”

“Okay….”

“I want to tell him about the engagement personally.”

Liam watched her face, looking for traces of deception. He was hesitant to grant her request but eager to put a ring on her finger. “If you go, I’m coming with you!”

“That’s fine,” she replied serenely as she retook her seat and picked up the hairbrush, “Set it up. Once the visit is accomplished, we can make an official announcement to the world.”

“I’ll arrange a visit for tomorrow morning!” He promised.

“Thank you,” she resumed brushing her hair, “Please close the door on your way out.”

“Hey! Wake up!” The guard banged on the bars of his cell.

Drake lifted his head and looked around, “Riley!” He was on his feet in an instant.

She smiled at him, and he was sure he was dreaming. She was even more beautiful than he remembered and for a moment he forgot to breathe.

Then Liam stepped up next to her and his heart plummeted. But what had he expected? Liam was never going to let her wander down to the cells alone.

He was lucky he hadn’t been summarily convicted and executed and he knew it. Liam had probably been too busy working overtime to sway Riley back to his side to fast-track his murder trial.

“What do you want?” He stepped away from the bars, pretending that the sight of her didn’t set his heart on fire.

“We’re here to inform you of our engagement,” Liam wrapped an arm around Riley and pulled her closer to his body.

Drake’s eyes were guarded as they flicked from one to the other, “So?”

“So, I’ve shown her the security footage from the airport office. She knows what you did.”

“Videos can be faked,” Drake said with a shrug. His eyes locked on Riley’s, “and Liam has access to the best cyber experts. It’s called a deep fake, look it up.”

“She’s not buying your lies anymore. Right, love?”

Riley finally spoke, “Drake, do you remember in the plane I told you that if Liam had proposed to me at the coronation, I would have said yes?”

His eyes dropped to the floor in defeat, “I remember.”

“Do you remember everything I said after that?”

His head snapped up and his eyes locked on hers again, hope that he didn’t dare show surging through him, “Yes.”

She smiled at him again and his heart nearly exploded. Her voice betrayed no emotion as she said, “Then you understand.”

“Come on love, let’s go.” Liam guided her away from the cell.

She glanced back one last time, “And Drake?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll see about getting you some correspondence in here. I remember you saying how much you liked your mother’s notes.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll be looking for them.”

“Turn it off!” The prisoner yelled as he hurled the book he’d been reading across the room to smack into the TV screen.

The guard on duty glanced up at the screen where the king was announcing his engagement, “It’s just a press conference. What’s your problem?”

“His problem is he’s the psycho who kidnapped her and tried to smuggle her out of the country!” the second guard answered, “why do you think he’s in here?”

“I heard he murdered one of you!” one of the other prisoners in the dayroom interjected with a maniacal laugh.

“Shut your pie hole, Trotter!” The first guard admonished, “Or you’ll go back to your cell!”

“Okay, fine!” Trotter threw his hands up in the air, “I was just saying. He also beat the crap out of that duke over her!” He jabbed his finger in the air toward the flat screen hanging on the wall.

“I know that guy claimed he was totally at fault,” the second guard said, “Unwanted advance or whatever, but I heard he was coerced by the king to lie.”

“Why would the king do that?” the first guard asked.

“Have you seen her?” the second guard leered, “And I heard she’s a real wildcat in the sack!”

Drake launched himself at the guard, tackling him to the ground before he had a chance to react. All the rage he had been unable to unleash since finding himself locked up combined with the helplessness he’d felt watching her with Liam during their visit the day before boiled over as he attacked the guard with ruthless vigor.

“Shit!” the first guard yelled as he fumbled with his walkie-talkie to summon backup before attempting to pull the prisoner off his compatriot. Something he wasn’t able to accomplish until backup arrived.

“Goddamn it, Walker!” the first guard panted as he finally got the cuffs on him, “What the fuck was that?”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that!”

“Okay, okay,” the guard chuckled as he pulled the prisoner to his feet, “you must have a burning desire to see the inside of solitary confinement. Let’s go!”

Drake smiled back at the guard that was being helped to his feet. He’d spend a day or two in solitary for the assault but he didn’t care. It had been worth it.

“What are you up to today, my love?” Liam greeted her with a kiss before sitting down to breakfast.

“Exploring the palace!” she replied enthusiastically.

“Really?” he was pleased with the turn her disposition had taken. She was happy again. The spring was back in her step and the sparkle was back in her eyes. She was once again the girl he had fallen in love with.

She was finally over Drake; he was sure of it.

“Are you sure? I could have the driver take you into town if you wanted.”

“No thank you,” she smiled at him, “I discovered a second library yesterday! It’s a little dusty, but there are hardcover first editions in there of some of my favorite authors!”

Liam smiled as she prattled on about books. Offering to let her go into town had been a test and she had passed. She no longer wished to leave the palace. Drake had failed to poison her against him.

After breakfast, Liam headed to his office while Riley spent a few hours in the small forgotten library in the east wing, pouring over old palace blueprints. There were so many secret passageways. She wondered if Liam was aware of them all.

Just before lunch, she wandered into the kitchen. Plucking a grape from a bowl of fruit on a marble countertop, she sauntered over to where an attractive younger woman was preparing food.

“Hey, Siobhan,” Riley greeted her.

“Hello, Your Grace,” Siobhan blushed at the attention.

“I told you, call me Riley!”

“Yes, Your-Riley.” Siobhan’s flush deepened from pink to crimson under the queen in waiting’s gaze.

“Working on lunch for the prisoners again?”

“Yes, but you don’t have to-“

“Nonsense! I have nothing better to do and I enjoy food preparation. It reminds me of summers with my grandmother,” Riley told her as she started measuring out the pasta into containers, checking the names on the trays against any food allergies as Siobhan had taught her on one of her previous visits.

“Okay, then, I do enjoy the company,” the younger woman gave Riley a shy smile as she turned to stir the sauce.

The two women chatted amicably as they worked. The rest of the kitchen staff had grown accustomed to the queen in waiting’s presence during the hour before lunch was served and they no longer paid any attention to it, focusing on their own work instead.

Siobhan sighed as she watched Riley slip discreetly out a side entrance. She quite enjoyed her company and was still a bit astounded that someone in her position would hang around to help with food preparation. Especially for prisoners.

Of course, she never stayed long. She was always gone before the guard came to collect the food trays.

“Hey, Bruno,” Riley looked up from the book she’d been reading when the older guard popped in to check on her.

The closer it crept to the wedding, the more cautious Liam became with her safety. That’s how it was worded to the guards anyway.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know a Lt. Jason Toussaint?”

“The guy in cyber security? I don’t really know him. Why?”

“No reason,” she kept her voice neutral as she dropped her eyes back to the pages of her book.

Jason Toussaint was alone in his room when a sealed envelope slid under his door. He opened the door and looked up and down the hallway but whoever had left it was gone.

He closed the door and opened the envelope.

“Meet me in the hedge maze at midnight.”

“So, you do exist,” she greeted the blonde soldier that stood in front of her.

“I exist.” He eyed her suspiciously. She was the reason his friend was sitting in a jail cell.

“How far are you willing to go to help Drake? Because I have an idea…”

“I’m listening…”

A sealed envelope was slipped under her door at the prearranged time. Liam was tied up in meetings all day.

She was alone but she locked herself in her bathroom as a precaution as she rifled through the contents.

In her hands was proof that Constantine was in fact behind the setup and Liam knew. Emails, payoffs, and orders to redact statements and seal documents.

She couldn’t use any of it. She couldn’t expose Jason, who had only held onto his job after she had spoken his name to Liam because he had not done anything other than answer a superior officer’s questions about his employment status.

Not that any of it mattered. So, what if the previous king had set her up? He was dead and the scandal had been resolved in her favor. No one would care and Liam was above the law even if he had broken one, which he hadn’t.

She couldn’t get caught with it either. That would derail everything.

She had just wanted to be sure.

She peeked out to make sure no one was in her room before making her way to the fireplace and tossing the contents into the flames.

“Liam, are all these guards really necessary?”

“Yes, my love. They’re here to protect you.”

“From what?”

“Anything. Everything! I have enemies. Being a public figure puts you automatically at risk. There are crazy people in the world, Riley. You should know that. You’ve already been kidnapped once.”

“Indeed, I have…” she mused as she looked at him, “When you put it that way, I’m not sure I feel safe even in the palace!”

“That’s what the guards are for.”

“I’d feel better if I had something to protect myself with…just in case.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…pepper spray, a stun gun, something!”

“All right,” he acquiesced, “if it will make you feel better, I’ll get you a stun gun and Mara can teach you some self-defense moves if you’d like.”

She rewarded him with a brilliant smile, “Yes, I’d like that very much. Thank you!”

“Hey, I haven’t seen you before. Where’s Fred?” the guard called to the unfamiliar janitor waiting to be buzzed in to clean the dayroom.

“He called in sick,” the man replied, “They sent me to fill in.”

The guard eyed him up and down. He had on the coveralls of the janitorial staff and the proper ID badge hanging from his pocket. His eyes took in the name and photo then went back to the man’s face. Everything checked out. “All right. Go on in. But be quick!”

“Yes, sir!” The janitor shook his head vigorously to indicate understanding.

“What the fuck is this?” the guard manning the security feed asked as he thumped the panel.

“What is what?”

“The feed just flickered off and back on.”

The guard that had buzzed the janitor in peered at the screen. The guy was mopping the floor. He decided to go check on him just in case.

He opened the door and scanned the room.

The janitor looked up, “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Just hurry up! You’ve got ten minutes! You have to be out of here before we bring the prisoners in for their TV time.”

“Okay, boss!”

Ten minutes later he had completed his task and was standing next to the guard station as the prisoners were escorted, single file, into the day room.

The guards buzzed him through the door. He glanced back over his shoulder just before it closed behind him.

Drake looked up at the sound of the door buzzing just in time to see a man step through and glance back. His eyes locked on Jason Toussaint dressed as a janitor for a brief instant before the guard shoved him through the dayroom door.

The notes had started arriving taped to the bottom of his plate. They were small scraps of paper, with short messages. The first one had simply said, “Not safe to respond. Working on a plan.”

Subsequent notes ranged from “I love you” to “keep your head up” and then pieces of a plan began to arrive, one scrap of paper at a time. Until one day a keycard showed up with a note that simply read, “tonight.”

“Have you enjoyed your visit, Lady Hana?”

“Yes, Your Majesty, I have! It’s been so good catching up with you and Riley both!” Hana threw her arms around Liam and hugged him.

He chuckled as he hugged her back, “Are you sure you can’t stay a little longer?”

“As much as I’d love that, my mother’s birthday is next week and I have to get home and oversee the party preparations. But I’ll be back for the wedding!”

“Very well. You know you’re welcome here anytime.” It wasn’t that he had an overriding fondness for his former suitor, it was more that she made his fiancée happy, and keeping Riley happy was crucial to getting her down the aisle.

Once the marriage was accomplished, he would be able to relax. She was going to love the private island he’d picked for their honeymoon and with any luck, she’d come back pregnant.

She had been keeping him at arm’s length citing traditional American wedding customs, apparently, abstinence in the weeks before the wedding made the wedding night itself more intense and promoted marital bonding or something.

He was getting impatient. If not for Cordonian customs and council requirements, he would have dispensed with all the pageantry and eloped with her.

The wedding was two weeks away.

Everything was going to be fine.

#fervid fixation #trr au #drake walker #riley brooks #drake x riley #drake x mc #trr drake #trr au fanfic #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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massivedrickhead · 2 years

Note

Five times Character A treated Character B’s injuries, plus one time B treated A’s. 🥹

Words: 6341

Read on AO3

Send one of these?

Five times Beca treated Chloe’s injuries…

“How did you skin your knee? Are you ten?” Beca asked, her voice bordering on incredulous as she watched Chloe wincing as she picked out bits of gravel from the grazed skin.

“I was trying to get to the ice cream truck before he drove away,” Chloe said as if that was perfectly reasonable.

“So closer to seven years old than ten,” Beca said. “Why does the ice-cream truck even come here, this is a college campus. We’re literally surrounded by fraternity and sorority houses.”

“I think he sells weed too,” Chloe said. “Allegedly.”

“Oh well if I’d known that I’d have chased him down too,” Beca said, frowning as Chloe continued to pick at her knee. ”Do we have a first aid kit?”

“Kitchen probably,” Chloe said. Beca stood and headed for the kitchen. “I don’t think I need first aid.”

Beca returned holding the small plastic box in one hand, and a popsicle in the other.

“We literally have ice cream in the freezer,” Beca said, taking a seat on the coffee table opposite where Chloe was sitting. She batted Chloe’s hand out of the way of her knee and handed her the popsicle.

“It’s not the same,” Chloe said with a pout.

“You’re right, it’s significantly cheaper,” Beca said.

“I was trying to support a small business. If we don’t use the ice cream truck he might stop coming here altogether!”

Beca let out a snort of laughter. “Oh my god, you’re adorable.”

She took an antiseptic wipe from the box and shot Chloe an apologetic look before she cleaned the graze on her knee.

“Ow!” Chloe said, hitting Beca’s arm on instinct.

“Thank you for that,” Beca said. “Eat your popsicle.”

“Eat your popsicle,” Chloe repeated in a childish voice. Beca raised her eyebrows at her. “Sorry,” she said.

Beca stuck a bandaid on Chloe’s knee before shutting the box and making a move to stand.

“Ahem,” Chloe said, gesturing down at her knee.

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to kiss it better?”

Beca rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. She pressed a quick kiss to the bandaid and stood up.

“Thank you!” Chloe called after her as Beca returned the first aid box to the kitchen.

Beca looked up from her phone when she heard the sound of muffled swearing and pans clattering from the kitchen.

She let out a soft sigh as she headed to the kitchen, the half-composed text to Jesse on her phone now abandoned.

“What happened?” Beca asked, watching Chloe crouched on the kitchen floor, picking up cookies that had been dropped from the baking sheet.

“Nothing,” Chloe said. “I just burned my hand getting the cookies out.” She straightened up and threw the cookies that had been on the floor into the trash, and dropped the baking sheet with the remaining cookies on the bench.

“Let me see,” Beca said.

Chloe moved the dish towel out of the way and Beca saw the angry red burn along the side of her hand.

“Ouch,” Beca said softly. She turned on the faucet and waited for the water to run cold before she took Chloe’s hand and held it underneath.

The relief was immediate, and the scowl fell away from Chloe’s face. “Thanks,” she said.

“I read once you should keep it under the water for like ten minutes and then wrap it in saran wrap or something,” Beca said, frowning as she tried to remember. “Let me Google it.”

“Bec, it’s fine,” Chloe said, smirking at the concern on her best friend’s face. “I bought some burn cream after the last time I baked something.”

“Yeah, maybe no more baking for you,” Beca said.

“Eat one of those cookies and tell me you want me to stop baking.”

Beca did and her eyes widened almost immediately.

“Dude, how long have you been able to make those?”

Chloe laughed and shrugged as Beca ate another one. She batted her hand away when she went for a third.

“There needs to be enough to go around,” Chloe said. “And I just dropped half of them on the floor so you can’t eat another one.”

“Fine,” Beca said. “I’m buying you some oven gloves because clearly, the dish towel method isn’t working.”

“If you insist,” Chloe said, switching off the faucet and grabbing a paper towel to dry off her hands. The burning feeling came back immediately, and Chloe immediately wanted to stick her hand back under the cold water. She didn’t want Beca to know it hurt worse than she was letting on though, so she simply flexed and shook it a few times before giving Beca a smile. “You forgot to do something.”

“What’s that?”

Chloe held her hand out. “Kiss it better?”

Once again, Beca rolled her eyes but took Chloe’s hand anyway. She pressed the lightest kiss she could on the side of her hand, making sure not to actually touch the burn.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, her grin getting impossibly brighter. “What are you up to right now, do you wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure,” Beca said, following Chloe into the living room, the unfinished text on her phone completely forgotten about.

It was becoming a bit of a common occurrence now. Beca had never realised how accident-prone Chloe was until they lived together.

Chloe was a lot of things. She was smart, funny, kind, she could dance and she had the voice of an angel, but she was also… kind of a clutz. She was clumsy, and a little forgetful, and that made her a bit of a hazard in the kitchen.

The first aid kit that had been provided to every sorority and fraternity on campus was depleted faster at the Bellas’ house than any of the others, and Beca often found herself making trips to the drug store to replenish it.

It was on one of these trips that she got a text from Chloe, that had her both exasperated and concerned in equal measure.

Chloe: Hey, while you’re at the store can you grab bandaids? We’re all out xx

Chloe: And bandages? xx

Chloe was waiting patiently for Beca to get home. She was sitting up on the kitchen island with her hand wrapped in a bloody cloth. None of the other Bellas were home, and Chloe was trying not to panic.

She knew the cut was deep, she could tell that from the amount of blood that was still soaking through the cloth, but she was too scared to pull it away to assess the damage. It hurt, but not as much as she thought it should have, which also caused her to worry.

Her phone buzzed and Beca’s face appeared on the screen, she answered the call and put it on speakerphone.

“Hey,” Chloe said, trying to sound upbeat.

“How bad is it?” Beca asked.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Chloe said. “I was just chopping some veggies and-”

“Chlo’,” Beca said, cutting her off. “Do you need me to come home now, or can I finish shopping?”

Chloe looked at the bloodied cloth and began feeling a touch lightheaded.

“I think I need you to come home,” she said.

“Okay,” Beca said. “I’ll pay for these and I’ll be home soon. Stay on the call with me?”

Chloe rolled her eyes but smiled. “Bec, I’m not gonna die.”

“Chloe, you’re so chill about this kind of thing that I wouldn’t be surprised if I got home and found you sitting there with a bloody stump for a hand. Just… I’m going to be panicking until I get home if I don’t know you’re okay. So stay on the phone with me,” Beca said. Chloe could hear the barely restrained panic in her voice, so she agreed to stay on the call.

It didn’t take long for Beca to get back to the Bellas’ house, and she was soon hurrying through the door.

She took one look at the red cloth wrapped around Chloe’s hand and her eyes widened.

“I think it’s still bleeding,” Chloe said, wincing slightly as Beca came over and took hold of her hand.

Beca was frankly alarmed at the amount of blood in the kitchen, and by the way Chloe seemed significantly paler than usual.

“We should get this cleaned up,” Beca said. “Can you stand up without passing out?”

“Yes,” Chloe said. “It’s not that serious.”

Beca grabbed one of their island stools and placed it near the sink. She helped Chloe to her feet and walked her over to the other chair. Chloe thought it was completely unnecessary but Beca was kind of adorable when she switched into this caring protective mode, so Chloe just let her carry on.

“Okay,” Beca said, turning on the faucet and then turning her attention back to Chloe’s hand. “I’m gonna unwrap all this and then we can clean the blood off and see what we’re dealing with.”

“You’d have made a good doctor, you know?” Chloe said, trying not to look at the bloody mess as Beca peeled away the cloth.

“Please, my medical expertise goes as far as ‘stick it under running water and hope for the best’,” Beca said.

“Well, that’s why you go to school, dummy.”

“Rude,” Beca said, frowning as she looked down at Chloe’s hand. “I think this might need stitches Chlo’.”

“What? No, it’s fine,” Chloe said, looking down into the sink and immediately regretting it. The cut looked deep, deeper than she’d expected it to be, and as soon as it was out of the running water it filled with blood again. She was glad Beca had made her sit down.

“I just think we should get it checked out,” Beca said. “How long have you been sitting there putting pressure on it?”

“Like thirty minutes,” Chloe admitted.

“And it’s still bleeding,” Beca said. “So I think we should get this looked at by someone who knows what they’re doing.” Using the newly bought supplies, she wrapped Chloe’s hand up as best she could before they got into the car. “Can you call one of the Bellas and put them on speakerphone?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, hitting call on the group chat and waiting for one of them to answer.

“Chloe, did you butt dial the group again?” Amy’s exasperated voice asked.

“Hey, it’s me,” Beca said, leaning towards the phone that Chloe held up to her as they drove. “The kitchen looks like a crime scene. There was a Chloe Beale incident so I’m taking her to get stitches, I just didn’t want anyone to freak out when they saw the blood.”

“Okay, I’ll pass the message on. Is she okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chloe said. “Beca’s just being overly cautious.”

“And Chloe’s being overly blasé,” Beca said. “Call you later, okay?”

“Sure thing cap,” Amy said.

“And Amy, if you felt like helping out and cleaning up the kitchen we’d appreciate it,” Beca said.

“Sorry cap, bad reception, didn’t get any of that,” Amy said, making cracking sounds with her mouth.

Beca rolled her eyes and Chloe chuckled.

“Bye Amy,” Chloe said, hanging up. “A Chloe Beale incident?” She asked Beca.

“Uh, you know, an incident that involves Chloe Beale and a knife, or oven, or pair of rollerblades, or that one time with the hula-hoop-”

“Okay,” Chloe said, cutting her off. “I get it.”

“Does it hurt?” Beca asked, glancing across the car.

Chloe shook her head. “Not really.”

“Good.”

“You don’t have to wait with me you know? It’ll probably take hours just to get seen,” Chloe said.

Beca pulled a face. “I’m not leaving you alone in the hospital, Beale.”

“You don’t have plans with Jesse tonight?” Chloe asked.

“No,” Beca said. “We’re, um, we’re fighting right now. But even if we weren’t, I still wouldn’t ditch you.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, it’s fine,” Beca said. “It’s my fault, again. We’ll be fine. I just need to apologise. Which I will, as soon as he’ll let me.”

Chloe didn’t say anything else. Jesse was a nice guy, but Chloe couldn’t pretend they were close, or that they were even friends. Chloe always thought Jesse had been a little… suspicious of her. She always thought he knew more than he let on when it came to her, so she had always just kept her distance from him.

Secretly, she’d always thought Beca could do better.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Beca pressed a gentle hand to the side of her face, moving some hair out of the way and tucking it behind her ear.

“You okay? You got quiet and you’re really pale,” Beca said.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, smiling at the concern on Beca’s face. “I’m fine.”

They arrived at the hospital and spent the next few hours in the waiting room before someone eventually came to stitch up Chloe’s hand.

“Told you you needed stitches,” Beca said, proudly. “Maybe I should be a doctor. Do you think it’s too late to change the entire direction of my life?”

“Think it might be,” Chloe said, laughing as Beca tried to keep her distracted from what the doctor was doing.

Once they were done Beca drove them home, stopping off at McDonald's on the way back since they hadn’t gotten the chance to make and eat dinner.

“Out of ten, what are the chances that the girls cleaned up the mess in the kitchen?” Beca asked, taking a fry out of the bag in Chloe’s lap as they left the drive-through.

“Like a negative one,” Chloe said. “The only person who would have cleaned up is Jessica and she and Ashley are out of town.”

“I bet Legacy would have cleaned up,” Beca said.

“Emily doesn’t even live in the house yet,” Chloe said.

“She’s there constantly, I bet she cleaned up,” Beca said, reaching for another fry. “She’s always so eager for our approval.”

“She has our approval.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Beca said, glancing across the car before her hand went for the bag of fries again.

“Can you keep your hands on the wheel?” Chloe asked. “Here, I’ll feed you one if you’re that hungry.”

She popped a fry in Beca’s mouth.

“Wait, bring that hand back,” Beca said.

Chloe frowned but brought her hand back close to Beca’s mouth. Beca pressed a quick kiss against her bandage. “I hadn’t kissed it better yet.”

Chloe knew she’d had too much to drink. She knew her hangover would be miserable tomorrow. She knew she’d be full of regrets, and promises to never drink again.

She knew all of these things but she kept on drinking.

She was trying to get to that blissful drunk stage. Where nothing else mattered except existing in the moment. Dancing, singing, arms thrown around the people she loved.

She wanted to be there, but tonight, no matter how much she drank, she couldn’t reach it. She couldn’t get out of her head.

They were having one of their infamous a Capella-only parties, and this time the Bellas were hosting.

Chloe had been having a good time at the beginning of the night.

She hadn’t been able to find Beca, but she tried not to let that bother her. When the Bellas and Treblemakers had joint parties, Beca and Jesse would often sneak off early. She’d always tried not to let that bother her either.

A few hours into the party, she was handing out jello shots when she heard raised voices coming from one of the rooms that had been shut off. Chloe took a step closer and frowned when she heard that one of the people yelling was Beca.

“I’m so fucking sick of having this same argument with you, dude!”

“What do you want me to say, Beca? She is clearly in love with you, and you’re just refusing to see it!”

“You’re an idiot, Chloe is not in love with me!”

Chloe felt her chest get tight and her face burn.

“Everyone can see it but you, Beca. And maybe you’re just that oblivious, or maybe you’re pretending, but the way you two are together makes me uncomfortable, and I feel like you’re not taking my feelings seriously.”

Chloe didn’t want to listen anymore.

She walked away, grabbing the last few jello shots from the tray and taking them both quickly.

She found Stacie in the kitchen and pulled her to one side.

“I need to get really drunk, really fast, can you help me?”

Stacie, to her credit, didn’t ask questions. She just started filling a cup with various liquors and juices before handing it over.

“Come find me if you wanna talk about it,” Stacie said.

“What if I need another one?”

Stacie smiled. “You won’t need another one.”

Chloe took a drink and knew she was in trouble because she couldn’t taste the alcohol.

She got it down quickly and waited for that fun floaty drunk feeling to hit her.

It didn’t.

She could still hear the disgust in Jesse’s voice as he’d talked about her. The incredulity in Beca’s as she’d flat out denied that Chloe could have been in love with her.

She felt drunk, but not drunk enough, so she drank more.

And more.

And that’s how she found herself at the top of the stairs, sitting against the wall as she watched other Bellas and Treblemakers taking their turns sliding down the stairs on the plastic tray, the room slanting around her as she tried to keep herself upright.

“Please tell me you aren’t thinking of joining in,” Stacie said, taking a seat beside Chloe.

Chloe shrugged. “Maybe. They look like they’re having fun.”

“And you don’t,” Stacie said.

Chloe didn’t say anything, she just let her head drop onto Stacie’s shoulder.

“Does everyone know?” Chloe asked eventually.

“Know what?”

“I heard Jesse and Beca fighting. He said… He said everyone could see it but her,” Chloe said, tears filling her eyes before she could stop them. “Does everyone know that I’m in love with her?”

“No,” Stacie said softly. “I don’t think everyone knows. Jesse shouldn’t have said that, it’s not your fault his relationship isn’t working out.”

“I feel like an idiot,” Chloe said. “I thought I’d kept it hidden pretty well, but now… Has everyone just been laughing at me this whole time?”

“Chloe, of course not,” Stacie said.

“I need to not be here,” Chloe said, struggling to her feet. “I need another drink.”

“Would not recommend,” Stacie said.

“I’m not drunk enough yet, and this is a party after all,” Chloe said, pulling her arm out of Stacie’s grasp and heading for the stairs.

She made it down most of them, but then misjudged a step halfway down and managed to fall down the last couple.

The crowd let out a cheer, as if she’d done some impressive trick, and carried on partying.

Stacie hurried down the stairs, just as Jesse burst out of the kitchen, through the entryway, and out of the front door.

Beca was close behind him when she spotted Chloe on the ground, and Stacie helping her sit against the wall.

She didn’t even hesitate.

She rushed over towards Chloe.

“What happened?” Beca asked.

“Nothing,” Chloe said, trying to push Stacie away from her.

“She fell down the stairs,” Stacie said.

“Oh my god,” Beca said, crouching down in front of Chloe. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Chloe said, an edge to her voice that wasn’t normally there.

“Hey,” Beca said, softly. “What’s going on?”

Chloe wanted to tell her to go away. She wanted to say that she was fine and that she didn’t need her fussing over her, and making her boyfriend uncomfortable.

But Beca was looking at her with such a soft expression of genuine concern, that Chloe couldn’t do anything but start to cry.

“I fell down the stairs,” she said, tears coming fast now. She didn’t want to tell Beca the real reason she was so upset, so she focused on the pain in her shin and her arm, and the growing feeling of embarrassment. “Everyone saw.”

“It’s okay,” Beca said. “I bet you looked really cool. Come on Evel Knievel, we should get you to bed.”

“Bec, I can take over if you need to go deal with that,” Stacie said, nodding towards the door that Jesse had recently stormed out of.

“No, that’s okay,” Beca said, standing and holding out her hands so she could help Chloe to her feet. “I don’t think there’s anything left to deal with.”

Stacie nodded and patted Beca on the back. “Get her up to bed and I’ll bring some water and Advil.”

“And an ice pack?”

“Sure,” Stacie said.

Beca pulled a still sniffling Chloe to her feet and helped her up the stairs and to her room.

“What hurts?” Beca asked as Chloe sat on her bed.

“Everything,” Chloe said, miserably.

“Does anything feel broken?”

Chloe shrugged in response, so Beca spent the next few minutes checking her over, checking her arms and wrists and ankles, moving them gently to make sure none of them seemed particularly sore or swollen.

Watching Beca treat her so softly made her chest hurt. She wished she could tell her that thing that apparently everyone but her knew about. She wanted to tell her that Jesse was right. She was in love with her.

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t risk their friendship. So she focused on blinking back her tears and keeping her breathing steady.

“Think you might be okay,” Beca said. She pressed lightly on Chloe’s knee, and the redhead let out a hiss of pain. “Or not.”

Stacie arrived with the water, Advil, and an ice pack from the freezer.

“Thanks, Stace,” Beca said.

Stacie shrugged. “I provided the alcohol, I feel partly responsible. Feel better Chlo’.” She left the room and Beca and Chloe were alone again.

“Can you hand me some pyjamas?” Chloe asked, still sounding miserable.

“Sure,” Beca said, grabbing some from her drawer and handing them over. She fiddled around with her phone, looking for a playlist to put on, while Chloe got changed.

She hit play on one of her more chilled-out playlists and waited for Chloe to tell her she was done.

“My knee hurts,” Chloe said.

Beca looked up and saw Chloe had changed but that one leg of her pyjama pants had been rolled up. She was prodding her knee gently and wincing as she did it.

“Here,” Beca said, moving her hand away and putting the ice pack on it.

Chloe took the water from her nightstand and drank, trying to push away the urge to cry again.

“Do you want me to go?” Beca asked once she’d helped Chloe get comfortable in bed.

“No,” Chloe said. “Not unless you want to.”

“I don’t,” Beca admitted.

Chloe pulled back the blanket and patted the empty space beside her in the double bed. Beca smiled. “Can I borrow some pyjamas?”

“Yeah,” Choe said.

Beca’s room was only upstairs, but neither girl wanted to leave the other right now.

She pulled on one of Chloe’s t-shirts and a pair of shorts and carefully climbed into the bed beside her, doing her best not to hurt her knee.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t like me,” Chloe said after a little while, Beca’s music still filling the silence.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like him very much right now. In fact, I don’t think he’s actually my boyfriend anymore,” Beca said.

Chloe didn’t know what to say, so she just reached out and took hold of her hand.

“I’m sorry Bec,” she said. “Are you okay?”

Beca shrugged. “I will be.”

“What happened?”

“We’ve just been fighting a lot lately and, um, I guess he was feeling a bit…I don’t know… I think he was jealous or insecure or something because of my friendships. He said I never put him first, that he never feels like a priority.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Chloe asked. Even in her drunken state she didn’t want to get in the middle of Beca and Jesse’s relationship.

“I think it might be,” Beca said. “And that makes me feel bad, but I don’t want to change the way I treat my friends. He, um, he gave me a bit of an ultimatum I guess. And I feel shitty about this, but when it comes down to it I think I can picture my future without Jesse in it. I can’t… I can’t picture my future without you in it.”

Chloe’s hand tightened around Beca’s. “I’m sorry he made you pick,” Chloe said. “But I’m glad you picked me.”

“Always, Chlo’,” Beca said. “I’d always pick you.”

They were quiet for a little while longer and Chloe began to feel some of the heaviness begin to lift from her chest.

“So, I hurt myself and you haven’t kissed it better yet,” Chloe said.

Beca laughed and rolled onto her side so she could look at her.

“You want me to kiss your knee?”

“I mean, it has an ice pack on it, that’s kinda inconvenient,” Chloe said, a playful smile on her face now. “But that wasn’t the only thing I hurt when I fell down the stairs.”

“I don’t know how to kiss an ego better,” Beca said, earning a playful swat from Chloe.

“I hit my face too, you know,” Chloe said.

“You did, huh?”

“Yep,” Chloe said. “My mouth actually.”

Beca swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” Chloe said. She tapped her bottom lip. “Right there.”

Beca let out a snort of laughter. “You’re a dork,” she said. She reached out to tuck a strand of Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “Just one, to make it better, and then we can maybe talk about this again when you’re sober.”

“Works for me,” Chloe said, grinning as Beca pressed the lightest of kisses against her lips.

Beca was fast asleep when she heard the buzzer of her apartment door. She woke up with a start, almost knocking the laptop that had been balanced on her legs onto the floor.

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to read her phone to figure out what time it was when she heard the buzzer again.

She stumbled out of bed, feeling clumsy and tired, and crossed the room to the doorway. She pushed on the intercom.

“Hello?” She mumbled.

“Bec? Can you let me in?”

Chloe’s voice was quiet. Far too quiet. She’d been out with some friends from work, and Beca had been expecting her to come barging in some time past midnight, offering her pizza and telling her about her night.

She was expecting giggly tipsy Chloe who couldn’t regulate her volume, not whoever that voice had belonged to.

She hit the button on the intercom to unlock the door to their building, unlocked their apartment door, and went into the kitchen, pouring two glasses of water while she waited.

She told herself Chloe must have just forgotten her keys, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

The door opened and Chloe slipped inside quickly, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Forget your keys?” Beca asked, watching as Chloe slid the chain across the door.

There was something off about her that Beca couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“Baby, is everything okay?” Beca asked.

“I, um, I think I just got mugged,” Chloe said, her voice quiet and shaky.

“Oh my god,” Beca said, the tiredness she’d felt seconds ago was gone in an instant. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know,” she said, tears filling her eyes. She looked helplessly at Beca, silently asking for her to fix it. To make it better.

Beca swallowed. “Okay,” she said, pushing down the rising feeling of panic. “Come sit down.”

She took Chloe by the hand and led her to their bed. Chloe sat down on the edge of it and Beca wasted no time in pulling her into her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she felt Chloe begin to cry against her chest.

“You’re okay,” Beca said softly.

“He-he took my bag,” Chloe said, her voice catching in her throat as she tried to stop crying. “My keys, my phone, my bank cards, they’re gone.”

“It’s all stuff we can replace,” Beca said. She ended their hug and looked at Chloe properly, brushing the hair from her face. “Did he hurt you?”

Chloe shook her head. “I fell when he grabbed my bag,” she said. “The strap was over my shoulder and he yanked it and I’m wearing these stupid shoes so I went down and hit my knee. I’ll probably have a bruise tomorrow. My wrist hurts a little too from where I tried to break my fall.

“Let me see,” Beca said, moving back slightly.

Chloe moved her dress away from her leg, and Beca saw a scrape along the side of her knee.

“Another skinned knee, huh?” Beca asked, smiling when she heard Chloe’s soft laugh in response.

“Are you going to kiss it better?”

“Always,” Beca said, pressing a quick kiss to Chloe’s thigh before turning her attention to her wrist. She winced when Beca touched it, and Beca went to grab an ice pack from the freezer - she always had some ready, because you never knew with Chloe - along with their always stocked first aid kit.

She put the ice pack on Chloe’s wrist and turned her attention back to her knee.

“We should go to urgent care or something in the morning if your wrist looks any worse,” Beca said. “And we should call the cops too, and start cancelling your bank cards.”

“Thank you for being so calm and level-headed,” Chloe said, watching as Beca cleaned her knee with the same care and tenderness she’d shown her all those years ago.

“Inside I’m freaking out,” Beca said, laughing softly. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” Chloe said. “But also kinda freaked out too.”

“Why don’t you get ready for bed and I’ll go make you some tea? I’ll call the cops too,” Beca said.

“Okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

Chloe shook her head and Beca kissed her forehead before returning to the kitchen.

Chloe cleaned off her makeup and changed into pyjamas, wincing every time she moved her wrist.

Beca was waiting for her on their bed by the time she was done in the bathroom.

“They’re gonna send someone in the morning,” Beca said.

Chloe nodded and climbed into bed beside her, taking a sip of tea before she put it down and curled into Beca’s side.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Beca said, kissing the top of her head. “And I’m so glad it wasn’t worse.”

“Me too,” Chloe said. “I’m really glad you’re here, Bec. I love you, thank you for always taking such good care of me.”

“Of course, Chlo’. I love you too.”

… plus one time Chloe treated Beca’s

Beca staggered against the current as she struggled to get out of the sea and onto the shore.

The water was shallow but the current was so brutally strong that she found it hard to stay on her feet.

As she finally made it onto the shore, safe for the time being, she felt the magnitude of what just happened hit her.

She made it a few more steps before she stumbled and fell to her knees, retching as she did. A mixture of vomit and seawater hitting the sand below her.

“Gross,” Amy deadpanned as she walked past Beca, walking further up the beach where the other Bellas were huddled.

She wanted to tell Amy to bite her, but she was crippled by another wave of nausea and she vomited again.

“It’s okay,” Chloe’s gentle voice said from beside her, a steady hand coming to rest on her back. “We’re okay.”

“S-sorry,” Beca shivered, sitting back, wiping her mouth with a wet sleeve.

“Don’t be sorry,” Chloe said, her eyebrows pulled together in concern as she brushed a strand of wet hair behind Beca’s ear. “You’re bleeding.”

There was a consistent throb of pain in her forehead and Beca reached up to touch it, frowning when the tips of her fingers came back bloody.

“I don’t even know how that happened,” Beca said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chloe said. “Cold and wet, but I’m not hurt.”

“The others?”

Chloe gestured to the group of girls sitting further up the beach, all huddled together for warmth. “Everyone made it out alive, thanks to you and Amy.”

“Good,” Beca said, a fleeting feeling of relief rushing through her.

“Do you think you can stand? We should go join them.”

Gripping Chloe’s hand tightly, Beca struggled to her feet, and the pair made their way over to join the rest of the Bellas.

“Feeling okay cap?” Amy asked.

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Does anyone know where we are?”

“No clue,” Aubrey said. “I guess no one still has their phones?”

Beca pulled hers out of her pocket - it hadn’t been taken by Amy’s Dad like the rest of them - but it was predictably dead. “Anyone got a bowl of rice?” She tossed it onto the sand.

“Someone will come for us,” Chloe said, confidently. “There was just a massive explosion, and I’m sure Chicago and the others will have realised we’re missing by now.”

“If they haven’t found us by morning, we should search this… island or wherever we are,” Aubrey said. “We’ll need water and food and a way to make a fire.”

“Isn’t this what you spent all those years training for?” Amy asked. “At your wilderness survival camp or whatever?”

“It was a wilderness lodge meant for corporate retreats, Amy,” Aubrey replied. “It hardly makes me Bear Grylls.”

Beca let the sound of their argument begin to wash over her, and she let her head drop onto Chloe’s shoulder.

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Tired,” Beca replied, her eyes itching to close despite every instinct she had her telling her not to.

“Try and stay awake,” Chloe said, doing a decent job of keeping the panic out of her voice. “You have a head injury.”

Beca let out a shiver and sat up straighter. She knew Chloe was right, even if the idea of falling asleep was far more tempting than dealing with this mess they were in.

“Let me see,” Chloe said, moving so she was kneeling in front of Beca, her hand tilting her chin so she could get a better look at her injury.

“Does it look bad?”

Chloe shrugged. “I don’t know, usually I’m in the injured one.”

Beca felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. “Are you going to kiss it better?”

Chloe let out a soft laugh, and she pressed her lips against Beca’s cold, damp, forehead.

“Someone will come for us, right?” Beca asked, still gazing into Chloe’s eyes.

“Of course,” Chloe said.

They sat for hours on the beach, huddled together, waiting for the sun to come up.

Most of the girls had fallen into a restless sleep, but Chloe kept Beca talking all night. She wouldn’t let her close her eyes for a second.

They talked about their future. About what would happen if Beca agreed to go to L.A. and work with DJ Khaled - “which of course you’ve got to do!” Chloe had insisted.

Chloe had promised it wouldn’t change anything. She promised she would move with her to L.A. if that’s what it took, and they talked with a quiet excitement about where they might live, what their place would look like, and what this next chapter of their life together would bring.

When the sun began peaking above the horizon, Chloe felt Beca’s weight on her side getting heavier. Her own throat was sore from talking so much, and the urge to give in and close her eyes was almost overwhelming.

Just as she was about to, she heard something in the distance.

“Beca, can you hear that?”

Chloe had to shake her a few times to get a response.

“Hmm?”

“Wake up, can you hear that?”

Beca forced her eyes open. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, and her eyes hurt against the light of the rising sun, but she tried to concentrate on whatever it was Chloe could hear.

“There!” Chloe said, pointing to the horizon. “A boat!”

Beca smiled as the girls around them began waking up, all jumping up and running to the shoreline, waving frantically.

She wanted to get up and join them, but she was just too tired now.

She saw the boat get closer to the shore, and saw the Bellas cheering as they recognised that the person driving the boat was from the military. They could just about make out Chicago and his broad shoulders waving back at them.

They’d be okay.

They’d make it home.

She lay back in the sand, the tension leaving her body as she let her eyes fall closed.

“Beca!”

Her eyes opened sluggishly and focused on Chloe who was hovering over her.

“Not yet, okay? You have to stay with me. Promise me?”

“Promise,” Beca said, as Chloe pulled her to her feet. Her legs were shaky when she stood up, but Chloe stayed glued to her side, half carrying her towards the boat that had pulled up as close as it could.

“Almost there,” Chloe said. “I’ve got you.”

Strong arms seemed to come from nowhere and lift her up onto the boat. Silver blankets were passed around with bottles of water, and soon Chloe was sitting back in front of her, a small first aid kit on the floor between them.

“Time for me to return the favour I think,” Chloe said.

Beca smiled. “Don’t forget to kiss it better.”

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