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#still the best burn I've ever heard
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what about the 141 boys and konig rejecting the reader to keep things professional but when she starts getting closer with someone on base they try to get her back
Thanks for this one. I hope this is what you were looking for!🙂
141 + König Rejecting Reader, Then Regretting It
Warnings: angst, fluff at the end, swearing, crying
(Not me using this Simon gif again because it makes me weak in the knees🫡)
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Simon Ghost Riley-
It wasn't that Simon didn't like you. He truly did. It was more so the fact that he was your lieutenant, your superior, and he couldn't put you both at risk like that by accepting your romantic advances.
He'd felt horrible, his insides churning when he'd rejected you. He watched as your face fell in defeat and how you struggled not to cry in front of him. He didn't know how to make the situation better or what to say, so he watched as you fled from the room, wondering if you'd ever talk to him again.
He thought he'd be able to work through it. Work through knowing that you felt the same about him and that he blew it. But then came König.
You two had been friends for some time, but lately you two had seemed...closer. He saw the two of you together more frequently, whether it be training together, eating together, or even sitting on the couch together after missions. What hurt Simon the most was the fact that you seemed... happy with him.
The more Simon thought about it, the more he started to beat himself up. Thinking that his time was limited, he decided to talk to you about it. He just hoped that he wasn't too late.
~
He found you later that night, finishing up at the shooting range. He was thankful everyone else had gone to bed, leaving you two alone.
"Y/N." Simon called out, grabbing your attention. You whirled around to meet him face to face and gave the best smile you could muster. You hadn't really spoken to him since he rejected you, and the ache in your heart was still present.
"Sir." You nodded, waiting for him to continue.
Simon scratched at the back of his head nervously, unsure of what to say next. He had it planned out in his head, but now that you were here in front of him, his mind was a jumbled mess. "Don't date him."
Your eyes widened slightly as you absorbed his words. "I'm sorry? Date who?"
"König." Simon's voice came out cracked, and you could tell that he was nervous, an emotion not commonly associated with the masked man.
"König? Why would I be dating him?" You asked, bemused.
"I've seen the two of you together, and you seem... happy with him." Simon was avoiding your eyes, the mask he wore, unable to hide the emotions he was feeling.
You took a deep breath as you regarded the man carefully. Your mind was racing with a million different thoughts. Why did he care if you dated König? He was the one who rejected you.
"Why do you care if I do?" You tried, curious to see his reasoning. It wasn't like it was against the rules to date him. He wasn't in your squad.
Simon let out a huff of frustration, clearly annoyed at the situation, at the fact you couldn't just understand what he was trying to say. Words didn't come easy to Simon, and he wasn't sure what to say to make you understand.
"I don't want you to." Is all he was able to say.
"You don't want me to? Simon, what the hell is that supposed to mean? If this is because of us, you're the one who rejected me. And now you're telling me you don't want me seeing other people? I don't understand why-"
In a matter of seconds, Simon's balaclava was torn off, revealing his handsome face as he swiftly moved toward you, crashing his lips to yours, effectively cutting you off.
The kiss was brief, fleeting, as before you could even register what was happening, he was pulling away.
"Simon?" You asked, breathless as your cheeks began to burn pink.
"I don't want you to be with anyone, but me." His voice was barely above a whisper, but you'd still heard him.
"Simon, you told me no. You said that it wasn't smart and-"
"Fuck being smart. I can't get you out of my head, kid. You're always there. I've thought for so long that I'm better off alone, and I was okay with that. Until you. And for the first time in a long fucking time, I want something for myself. I want you."
You felt tears starting to form in your eyes as you watched him struggle for words. This was a side of Simon you've never seen before. He was showing you his vulnerability. "If you truly want me, Simon, I'm yours."
His ears perked up slightly as he lifted his gaze back to you. You saw a ghost of a smile on his lips as you slowly moved to cup his cheek. You let your eyes rake across his handsome features before landing them back on his lips. "Kiss me, Simon Riley."
And he did.
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König-
"König. Do you have a second?" You asked, approaching the hooded mass of a man timidly.
"Of course, Maus. What's up?" He gave you a warm smile before turning back to scrub at the dirty hood in his hands.
"I was.. I wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you. They've gotten hard to ignore, and I felt I should tell you." You said, your voice shaking slightly.
You heard König sigh deeply as he turned his gaze to you. "We can't. It's not ethical. I'm sorry."
He turned back to his hood, giving the impression that the conversation was over.
You let out a shaky breath as you struggled to keep your composure. "Of course. I understand."
You quickly turned on your heel and fled from his room, desperate for him to not see you cry.
König listened to your fading footsteps and sighed deeply. He felt terrible. He honestly didn't know you felt the same way and frankly didn't know how to react. He'd liked you for a long time but was scared that being romantically entagled in this sort of field wasn't beneficial for either of you. It didn't help that he was terrible with words as well.
He was planning on approaching you about it, to try and smooth things over, but every time he tried, you were with Ghost.
He knew you and Ghost had a close relationship, but lately, it seemed to strengthen in a way that had Königs heart constricting.
Everywhere he went, there you were with the masked lieutenant. König was no fool. He'd heard the whispers of the women on base, even the men, of how attractive Ghost was. König could only hope that you weren't one of the ones that felt that way.
A few days had passed since the two of you spoke, and König was starting to lose his mind. He couldn't bear not talking to you, and as the days went on, he was terrified he'd lose you to Ghost.
~
König had decided to approach you during lunch one day, not caring that you were sitting next to your Lieutenant.
"Maus, can I speak with you." He asked, clearing his throat to get your attention away from Ghost.
You turned to König with a small smile, nodding your head. "Sure. What's up?"
"Alone, if that's okay." He murmured, turning his head toward the door.
You followed him wordlessly to the weapons room, and fortunately for the two of you, it was empty.
"Are...are you with him?" König stuttered out, his cheeks burning with shame as he ripped off his hood.
"Who, Ghost? No, he's just a friend. Same as you." You said, your voice laced with disdain.
Königs eyes left yours as they landed on the ground beneath you. He didn't know what to say. It was clear you were still upset with him, not that he could blame you.
"Is that all you wanted to ask me? If I'm with Ghost?" You asked, bouncing on the heels of your feet. The tension was palpable between the two of you, and you wanted nothing more than to run from it.
"I wanted that to be me. The one laughing with you. The one you went to after a long day. The one you wanted to be around." He said, his voice characteristically soft.
"It was. Then you rejected me. I didn't know if you wanted me around anymore." You admitted, your voice breaking slightly.
"Don't ever ever say that. Hell would freeze over before I'd ever stop wanting your company." Königs voice was stern, a complete contrast to how he was speaking moments before. "I want you, Y/N. I was a moron to reject you. I thought I was doing what was best, and then you pulled away completely. And I saw you with him. I just.. I dont.."
You took a step toward him and placed a warm hand on his cheek. "König."
He stopped his rambling as his eyes met yours once more. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand drifted down his cheek softly, your thumb slowly carrying his bottom lip.
You stood on your toes, barely able to reach his cheek with your mouth, and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's okay, Kö."
His eyes opened as he looked down at you, a toothy grin making its way to his lips. "Be mine, Maus."
You nodded, and he was quick to press his lips to yours. His lips were softer than you'd imagined they'd be, and he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you closely as if he thought you'd leave if he didn't. Little did he know, in his arms was the only place you'd ever wanted to be.
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
You've never been so embarrassed in your life. You'd been in love with Johnny for years, and you truly had thought he felt the same. You thought that you made it to a point in your friendship that you could finally tell him how you felt.
So when he flat out rejected you, you were surprised, to say the least. He'd told you that while he respected that that's how you felt, he couldn't in good conscious get into a relationship with you. It wouldn't be professional.
You avoided him for a few days after that, as you were too embarrassed and hurt to face him. Johnny was no better. He felt horrible after you left and wondered if he made the right call. You were the love of his life. He just didn't think he deserved you, and he was so scared thinking about you getting hurt out in the field because of him.
What hurt him the most, though, was the fact that you started to hang out a lot more with Reyes, one of the guys from SpecGru who'd been on base a few weeks. The way you treated him was the way you treated Johnny before he went and screwed everything up.
Johnny began to find it impossible not to get riled up every time he saw you with Reyes. It was clear the Canadian had an interest in you, and the thought of you two being together had Johnny's insides churning.
~
Later that night, you'd walked into your room and were met face to face with Johnny, who was sitting on your bed.
"I'm a fool, Y/N." Johnny's voice caught your attention as you walked through your door.
"Jesus, Johnny. Scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?" Your hand flew to your heart as you caught your breath.
"Sorry. I just uh. I wanted to talk." His eyes flitted down to his hands, as he began to fiddle with a hang nail.
"About?" You crossed your arms defensively, desperate to protect the little piece of your heart he hadn't already hurt.
"I shouldn't have turned you down. I was a fool. I thought, by turning you away, I'd keep you safe. That our feelings for each other wouldn't get in the way of our responsibilities if I just ignored how I felt."
"And what changed in a matter of days?" Your tone was icy, and it made Johnny shudder. It wasn't a tone he liked being on the receiving end of, but he couldn't fault you for it.
"I saw you. With Reyes." Johnny admitted, his head downturned in shame. He didn't want to admit he was jealous, but it tore him up inside to see you laughing, and happy with a man that wasn't him.
"So you're only telling me this because you're jealous."
"No. I'm telling you this because I've harbored feelings for you for years. I tried to push you away because I thought it was what was best. And I was wrong. Seeing you with Reyes made me realize that. I want you, Y/N. I always have. I just hope I'm not too late." You heard his voice quiver slightly toward the end, and it made your defensive walls crumble.
"You want me, Johnny? Truly?" You asked, standing straight as you watched him watch you.
Johnny stood off your bed and strode up to you. "I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on you."
And that was all that was needed for you to press your lips to his. The man you'd been in love with for years, was finally yours.
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John Price-
"While I respect how you feel, it's inappropriate. You're my subordinate, I'm your superior." John stated curtly. He watched as your shoulders slumped in defeat, as you struggled to maintain a neutral expression.
"Understood, sir. I apologize for bringing it up." You gave a firm nod as you turned to the door.
"Y/N. Don't beat yourself up over it."
"Of course, sir. Enjoy your day." You a small smile before exiting, letting the tears free fall once you made it far enough away from his office.
Price slouched forward in his chair and ran his hands along his face. He felt like a total asshole. He wasn't blind. He knew you had feelings for him, and he'd be a liar if he said he didn't return them.
You were his ray of sunshine in every sense of the word, and he'd do anything for you. He just knew the risks that came with superior/subordinate relationships, and he wasn't okay with those. He didn't want to see you get hurt because of him.
A few days passed since the incident, and he'd seen no sign of you. You usually would start your mornings with him, but he hadn't seen you since that day in his office.
He made his way to the cafeteria, stopping short when he saw you sitting with Soap.
Price gritted his teeth as he watched you joke around with him. He knew it was childish, immature even. While he was doing his best to push his feelings for you aside, you were making it impossible for him.
It went on like this for nearly a week. Every time that you'd usually come to see Price, he'd now find you hanging out with the scot.
He'd finally had enough of it, his jealousy getting the better of him, as he stormed off to his office.
~
"Hey, Price told me to send you to his office." Gaz had informed you later that day.
"Oh? Am I in trouble?" You questioned, chuckling lightly.
"Who knows, he does seem a little grumpy today." Kyle sent you a sympathetic smile before walking toward the barracks.
"Great." You murmured as you made your way to Price's office.
~
"Y/N." John greeted you as you walked through the door. "Close the door."
"Sir. What can I do for you?" You asked, pushing the door closed with a slam. Price never called you into his office like this.
He watched you for a moment, not saying anything as he carefully studied your movements. He could tell you were nervous.
"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, regarding you carefully as he slowly started to talk toward you.
"What are you referring to, sir?" You knew what he was asking, but you didn't feel like being shut down yet again by the man.
"You said you have feelings for me." He continued to stalk toward you. "I'm asking if that was that true?"
You gulped audibly as you began to step backward, away from him. "Yes, sir. But I realize that it was inappropriate."
"I'm your captian."
"I know."
"Your boss."
"I know."
"The man who's hands you put your life in, every time I send you out on a mission."
"I know."
John stared at you, his gaze intense as he tried to read you. He wanted to know what was going on in that beautiful head of yours. "And, I'm the man that's going to make you scream out his name tonight."
Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him carefully. He'd effectively backed you into the corner of his office, and you'd heard the "click" of the lock on his door.
"But you said-"
"Fuck what I said. I'm done doing this dance. There's no point in beating around the bush any longer. I want you, and I want this. If you want me, get over here."
Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, as you threw yourself onto John, your lips latching to his in a heated, desperate kiss.
Needless to say, John was a man of his word, and it didn't take long before he had you screaming his name that day, and many others to come.
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
"It wouldn't work between us. We've both got so much going on, and with this job, I think it would be a bit too much for us to handle." Kyle said, smiling sadly.
"Oh! Yeah, sure. That makes sense. I get it." You nodded your head vigorously, your eyes moving anywhere but your best friends face. "Silly of me to even bring it up."
"Y/N." Kyle started, trying to walk up to you.
"No. No, really. It's okay. I have to go anyway, I have a bunch of stuff to do." You gave him a sad smile before briskly making your way out of the room.
Kyle felt his stomach drop as he heard a sniffle come from the hallway, knowing it was you. The more he rethought what he said to you, the worse he felt. He's had feelings for you for quite some time, but he was always too worried to act on it. His job meant the world to him, and frankly, he was scared of that being jeopardized.
Desperate to try to repair your relationship, however, he set out to find you.
~
Kyle found you later that day in the training room, practicing hand to hand combat with Alejandro.
He felt his blood boil at the way the man touched you. He knew it wasn't fair to Alejandro, but seeing him touch you like that sparked something in Kyle. It was in that moment that he knew he didn't want to push down his feelings for you any longer.
"Mind if I take over?" He asked as he approached. "Been needing to blow off some steam."
You and Alejandro stopped mid fight, the two of you struggling to catch your breath. "Alright, hermana, same time tomorrow?"
"Of course. Thank you for helping, by the way." You slapped his shoulder playfully .
"Anytime. Kyle, be seeing you." He gave Kyle a pat on the back as he made his way out.
Silence fell in the room as you and Kyle watched Alejandro leave.
"Hey." Kyle said after some time.
"Hey." You replied, rubbing at your arm nervously. "Did you actually want to train or?"
Kyle swallowed thickly, his eyes darting around the room. "I just wanted to talk. I felt bad. For earlier."
"Nothing to apologize for. You said your peace and I can't fault you for that." You gave him a sad smile.
"No, I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have turned you down. I thought in the moment I was doing the right thing."
"And now?"
"And now, I realize that the only right thing for me is you." The sincerity in his voice had your heart skipping a beat, as you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. "I was a fool for thinking otherwise. You're all I want."
"What will you do about it?" You asked, your eyes flickering to his lips.
"If you'll let me, I'd kiss you." He gave you a warm smile as he leaned down toward you, his warm breath fanning across your lips. Your eyes falling shut was all the consent he needed.
And, after waiting for nearly 5 years, you'd finally gotten the kiss you'd been waiting for, with the man you loved.
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A/N: Thanks for reading!
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nnight-dances · 8 months
Text
LOVE & OTHER CLICHÉS
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PAIRING: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader (ft. kim mingyu)
GENRE: fluff, angst, suggestive content
TROPES: brother's best friend, slow burn question mark, skirting around communication because that's a good plot point, jealousy as requested, banter, teasing, arbitrary social norms about words like "cute" and "sweet" pls don't listen to a word i say ever, etc.
WORD COUNT: 12k (for some reason)
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The first time you re-meet Jeon Wonwoo, your brother Joshua's best friend, you think a lot of things. He does, too. It's really interesting how neither of you say exactly what you think.
"Y/N! Is that really you?" 
If you hadn't been on the phone with Karina when you heard Wonwoo's voice, you think you might've genuinely passed away because his voice is something of nostalgic value to you, something distant and definitely not in the same living room as you. You look up and your eyes widen when you find the man gaping at you. "-Oh, hi–" you shoot up from your seat on the couch and then quickly remember your friend still on the line. You tell her, "Sorry, Rina, mind if I call you back later? Okay, thanks, love you. Night." 
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you like you'd said something amusing and it's turn to take him in as you drop your phone onto the couch. "Wonwoo, god, you're alive?" you start with a small smile and continue, "Wow, um, you look… the same." What you mean to say is: How did you get even taller, you attractive bastard?
Wonwoo offers you one of his smug smiles at that and replies, "Thanks? I think. You look much more… grown up, you know." He really should've said: Holy shit, you're pretty. And then he opens his arms, "Bring it in, kid. Let's see if I can still get away with tackling you to the ground."
You scoff even as you step closer to him, ignoring the way his arms are a lot bigger than they once used to be when you tell him, "I think you're remembering it wrong, dude. I was the one tackling you."
 It's no use, though, because when he wraps his arms around you, you sigh contentedly because this right here? This is a hug. Wonwoo's so warm around you and you can only pretend that the way you feel his hard muscles tense around you doesn't send chills up your spine. Wonwoo's smiling wide, only barely controlling a comment about how good you smell and how you might've grown taller but somehow still manage to fit just the same in his arms.
All in all, it's a pretty sweet reunion. You haven't seen each other in over five years so the curiosity and surprise is barely uncalled for. You only wished you could've held onto the hug longer before Joshua entered the room with a disgusted grimace on his face.
"Gross. Can you guys not do that?" 
You're the first to pull away with a flustered sigh at Joshua's comment, rolling your eyes. Wonwoo tries to cover up the way he's slightly out of breath by countering, "Why? You can't handle us interacting like two normal humans? Want us to claw at each other's eyeballs like the good old times?"
"I don't get it, though," Wonwoo tells you, a slice of donkatsu hovering near his mouth, "Why didn't you just move in with Shua?"
"That's what I've been asking her! Haven't I been a good enough brother to you? What did I do wrong? Huh?" 
You'd already seen Joshua's reaction coming, sipping the beer from your glass to brace yourself. "And as I've politely reminded you many times, big brother, it's not personal. I just thinking that would be the equivalent of moving back in with my parents. Plus, I can afford to live alone now, remember? The promotion that came with the reallocation?"
Joshua flashes you the unconvinced glare he always does when you reason with him. But you train your eyes on Wonwoo instead, determined to get him on your side at least. "It would be waste to just live with him and not do the independent thing. Plus, I literally live across from you, man, so I might as well be moving in with you."
Wonwoo nods quietly as he washes his bite down with some beer, "Hmm. That's fair enough. I don't know why Shua's been whining about it then."
You break into a pleased laugh at that where your brothers gasps in offense. "Hey, Jeon Wonwoo, whose side are you supposed to be on here?"
Wonwoo shrugs, "I'm on the side of logic, my man, I'm sorry."
"God, don't let her fool you. She says all this reasonable stuff but–"
"Oh, so you agree that it's reasonable then?" you question him with a raised brow but he ignores you as he spews his nonsense. 
"-- But the real reason she wants to live alone is so she can get laid."
You hit Joshua real hard in the arm at that, "Ew, dude, don't be a pervert." 
Wonwoo looks postively entertained between the two of you as he provokes you, "What does he mean?"
"Fuck if I know. I don't know what gave this guy the idea that I like to sleep around, if anything, he's the player."
Joshua narrows his eyes at you, "Uh-huh, me, the guy who was in a long-term relationship of nearly five years?"
"Emphasis on was in a relationship. How many people have you slept with since then? I don't want to know. I'm just making a point."
Wonwoo chuckles, "She's right, man. You're not exactly on the higher ground here."
"Okay, okay, but I did overhear you telling your friend that, quote, living with my brother would be the greatest clockbock there is, end quote."
Your jaw falls open when you hear him recount your words to Karina only a few hours ago. "You're eavesdropping on my calls? Wow, see, this is why I don't want to live with you."
"You weren't exactly very quiet! And you were sitting in the living room, too!"
"Whatever," you roll your eyes and then catch the questioning look Wonwoo sends your brother and you take matters in your own hands. "Fine, I said that because I mean, yeah, it's not like the hottest thing to be living with your brother, okay? Like what if I meet a cute guy and lose him to the fact that Shua's the biggest prude to exist?"
"Man, you just made a player, and now I'm a prude? Choose a story, goddamn it!" 
You shrug with a grin, "People can be two things, bro."
– 
"So, you all moved in yet?" Wonwoo asks you and you try to ignore how silly he looks with the edges of his glasses fogged up against the heat of the coffee in his hands. Last week, he'd texted you asking if you'd like to get coffee and catch up. You'd replied with a goofy grin playing on your lips at 1 AM with a: sure :))) if u pay!
You hum as you stir your own latte, "I think so. But everytime I think it's all done, there's always something small I forgot. Like, this morning I realized I don't have wine glasses."
He chortles, "Ah, I know what you mean. Something small but inconvenient. Like a good night lamp."
"Ugh, I need one of those, too. I brought my old one with me but ended up leaving it in the study because I didn't have one there." You sigh as you slump in your seat, "God, I hate moving. I'll have age twenty years by the time I'm fully done."
Wonwoo watches you with a bemused smile. "I can help you with shopping, if you'd like."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean, it's not like I moved in recently but I still remember some good places for this stuff. And it might be less tiresome if you have some company." 
Your replying smile is so genuine that it's got Wonwoo smiling and he thinks he's helping you out more for himself than Joshua. It's an unsettling thought for a moment but then your voice pipes back up with an anecdote from your work and he can't care for the thoughts. 
"...So, you have any luck finding cute guys to bring home?"
The question catches you off-guard and your grip on the wine glass you were inspecting loosens dangerously, but you hold onto it before it can break like your pretense of sanity. 
"God," you groan as you look at a chuckling Wonwoo who's standing next to you, arms crossed in that infuriatingly attractive way. "I was slightly drunk when I said that, so it would be nice if you forgot about it."
"Why? I mean, it's understandable you'd want to get into the dating pool here. It's one way to get to know a new city."
You turn all your attention to a different glass. "I guess. But I haven't had too much luck, no. Maybe waiting around to find love organically is my problem."
Wonwoo doesn't immediately respond to that, making you uneasy and sending heat to your ears. Whatever. You'd just have to scream into your pillow and cry yourself to sleep so you could forget this embarrassment. 
"Hmm, I don't know. It'll just take more time that way, I suppose. If you're willing to wait."
It's your turn to go mute except this time the silence is comfortable, only broken by a comment here and there about the glasses. 
"What about you?" you ask Wonwoo at checkout, watching the worker wrap up your chosen set of glasses in bubble wrap. "Are you… with someone?"
Wonwoo's lips twitch with a small smile at your question. "Not at the moment. I like the space of being single." You nod in understanding. 
"And I haven't really met anyone worth spending my time with," he says, eyes floating to you as he pushes his glasses up with a finger. 
You pause at his words, thanking the cashier for their help and making your way to the exit. "You make it sound like dating's a chore, Wonwoo."
He shrugs with a shoulder, "It can be. With the wrong person."
– 
"So… tell me all about your hot brother's hot best friend?" 
"Ew and ew, Karina, do you want me to block you for real this time?" 
"I'm just being honest but all right, do you want to talk about your years-old crush on your brother's best–"
"That's not any better. And I don't have crush on him. Also, it would really nice if we didn't say the word crush anymore. We're both adults with jobs."
"And adults with jobs aren't allowed to have a little fun?" Karina's voice is laced with laughter and you groan in frustration. Who has she been hanging out with to make her so much worse? Not you. 
"Anyway, since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you. My older brother is okay. And so is Wonwoo. There."
A few minutes of further pestering from Karina and you finally let slip that Wonwoo and you have been hanging out here and there, sometimes over coffee that led to shopping dates (Karina's words, not yours) and other times spent over at Joshua's, drinking or playing video games on his couch. It was pretty cozy and you couldn't really complain about this new life.
"Oh, so you don't miss me then, huh? Nice to know. But also it seems like you're hitting it off with Wonwoo and before you cut me off, you did like Wonwoo for like half your childhood, remember? Maybe this could become something. Who knows?"
Oh, you remember. It was you who spent long summer afternoons staring at Wonwoo as he came over to your home after class, spending all his time arguing with Joshua about a card game they'd been playing or about which villain was cooler in the new movie they'd watched. For a while, it had been a distant thing but over time, you'd warmed up to them and started talking more to Wonwoo, now a regular participant in their arguments. 
And as it turns out, it doesn't take a lot of arguments to fall for Jeon Wonwoo.
– 
One thing about you is that you're stubborn. You like to think it's a genetic thing because the only person who could rival your firmness was none other than your brother. And this meant that when Karina tried to convince you that you still had a soft spot for Wonwoo, you tried to tell her that's all it was: a soft spot. Like a platonic affinity for someone you'd spent a lot of time with growing up.
And you reasoned it out with yourself that night, thinking back to the time you'd spent with him recently. It was familiar in the best way possible. Where meeting new people at work was absolutely exhausting, coming back home to your brother and Wonwoo was like a hug to your soul.
Speaking of hugs, your mind rolled over to the one you'd shared with Wonwoo a few weeks ago, an event that you often found yourself thinking. As sane and rational as you thought yourself to be, the way you'd find yourself unable to control a giggle in the dark every time you remembered the way you all but melted into his arms, strong but fond in their embrace around your waist. 
And when you come to your senses, you realize it's ridiculous how stuck up on that hug you are. It's stupid your smile that breaks through anyway and the way your heart beats faster when you remember the plans you'd made with Wonwoo for tomorrow, a trip to a local bookstore because he had found your collection of books lacking the day he'd come over for a visit.
You roll over in bed then, groaning a little because you're starting to think the soft spot might be… growing. 
"You know I really didn't think I would spend this much on books today," you mumble as you tap your card at the register. It was almost funny how many conversations you and Wonwoo have had at check-out, almost inevitable because often the shopping experience itself meant a lot of focused silence as the two of you browsed around in tandem. 
It was a weirdly heartwarming way to spend time together. Or maybe that was just you and your weakness for quality time. 
"What do you mean? We literally mutually decided that you needed a better collection." Wonwoo leans against the counter with a cocked brow.
"Well, the mutual part is up for discussion. It's more like you shamed me for keeping a modest book collection. And I mean, I wasn't so sure if I'd find anything good here."
"Really?" he asks, picking up the heavy bag from the counter before you can reach for it, "Because I remember you agreeing pretty quickly and enthusiastically to my proposition to go book-shopping."
"That was only because you made it sound like fun." And it meant that I'd get to spend more time with you. "And it was fun. So that's one thing you're right about."
Wonwoo's smile turns smug as you exit the bookstore, each with a paper bag in hand. You'd settled for carrying Wonwoo's own purchase of two new books that he'd apparently been meaning to come out and buy. 
"Anyway, now what? You wanna go to my place and break into one of these bad boys?" You shake the bag in your hand with a gleeful grin. But Wonwoo's looking at the mall across from you with mouth slightly ajar in concentration. And then he smiles, pure excitement plastered across his face when looks back at you.
"I have a much better idea." That's all he says before his unoccupied hand finds yours and tugs you after him. Admittedly, you're a little dizzy at the sudden touch and let him pull you across the road with quick steps, struggling to keep up with him. At the back of your head, you store away how attractive it is that Wonwoo's holding a good dozen books in a hand and yours in the other, racing ahead like it was the most important thing in the world. And honestly? If it was with Wonwoo, you think you feel the urgency in your veins as if it were travelling across your intertwined palms.
It's a good day to be a romantic for you, as you later find out, standing in line with Wonwoo to purchase tickets to a newly released movie. The genre? Rom-com.
"Well, it's not so much a rom-com as the poster makes it seem. That's actually a deft marketing stunt. It's actually a pretty serious movie about love and I've heard it's not for the weak."
So many questions. You have so many questions. 
For one, "I didn't know you were into romantic movies," you comment, watching Wonwoo from the corner of your eye, too afraid to look him in the eye now that your hand was no longer in his.
"It's possible to avoid romance. Everything is about love these days, even if it isn't."
You also can't believe that you're about to watch a movie with Wonwoo. It's all strangely… different. You'd never been to the movies alone with him. It's a new territory for you. But you're not mad. If anything, the smile on your lips is playful. 
"And it's not just that you're too scared to admit that you like rom-coms?"
"I'm not. Into rom-coms, I mean. The humor is straight-up bad and the romance is tolerable at best. It's like if you're going to do a x to death, you might as well do it well."
"I can't believe this," you mutter more to yourself than him, "Jeon Wonwoo watching a rom-com? This must be a dream."
"You dream about me, hmm?" 
You narrowly avoid whiplash when you turn to look at Wonwoo, his teasing only another addition to the list of things you didn't think you'd hear your brother's best friend every say to you. But the more you know, huh?
The movie itself is insane. The plot is devastating enough on its own but the way Wonwoo's shoulder pressed into yours the whole time, despite there being more than enough space between the two seats, has you more vulnerable than usual. So find yourself tearing up halfway through the movie and sit through the credits with half-contained sobs. And where Wonwoo had laughed at your tears mid-way, when he noticed your sobs, his hand found your back, rubbing it comfortingly. 
"That was horrific," you mumble when you're less overcome with sadness and pout at Wonwoo. "I hate you for making me watch that. I will never find happiness. And worse, I will never find love."
Your words, punctuated with that small pout of yours, has Wonwoo a breath away from falling to his knees with his head in hands because fuck, you're adorable. And truth be told, he was tearing up at the end, too, but he wouldn't let you know that because the way you accuse him for your state is just incredibly precious to him. 
"It was terrific," he corrects you, "And I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd get so emotional."
You glare at Wonwoo at that, as if you hadn't just been dabbing at your eyes with his pocket tissues, "Okay, Mister Emotionless, don't think I didn't catch you wiping tears away in the closing scene."
Wonwoo shoots a guilty grin and pats your head, "You're cute." 
The statement leaves you speechless enough that Wonwoo gets away with it, starting to walk away with a gaping you in his wake. You're deeply confused and slightly jittery when you finally catch up to him with a small "I wasn't trying to be" of affront under your breath. 
– 
"That's bad, right, isn't it? It's so bad. It's horrible."
"Calm down, Y/N, he called you cute, just so we're clear? Not a bunch of bad words right? So why is it bad?" 
"Because!" you cry out, "Because cute is like the most platonic adjective. I thought we were having a moment, what with a movie date and all– but if he thinks I'm cute then I was wrong. So unbelievably wrong." 
"Okay, I know what you mean but that's not always how things work. I mean, you said he held your hand and stuff, right? That's more than platonic. And it's all about the tone. Cute can be a very romantic word if in the right context."
"The context," you tell Karina with a sigh, "is that he's my brother's best friend! He couldn't make it any clearer. Wow, and I was all up in my head over him, too."
"Can we just take a moment to acknowledge how I told you that you still had feelings for Wonwoo?"
"We will do no such thing. Because the feelings are gone now!" 
"Right. I believe you, Y/N," Karina deadpans over the phone, "You can call me when you're done being an idiot. Bye."
– 
It's Karina's sarcastic tone that your thoughts catch onto the next few days, the ones you spend half in agony because Wonwoo hasn't contacted you and after your personal dilemma, you think you'd let someone shoot you before you texted him first. 
So you try your best to distract yourself with work, showing up earlier than you'd built a reputation for, and staying a little later than most. It's a new routine for you, one that leaves you pretty tired in a way that your bones are not used to. 
Maybe that's why your legs don't seem to be working that morning when you bump into someone on your way to the coffee machine. You'd been rubbing your neck, trying to feel out the knot that you'd woken up with, and had effectively lost track of where you were going and collided with a solid figure, sending a few steps back.
You sigh as you regain your balance, ever so thankful that you didn't fall flat on your butt as you look up at the person in front you. He's tall enough that you should've seen him coming so you're first to apologize. "Shit, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry about that!"
"No, no, I should've been more careful. I'm lucky I wasn't carrying a coffee or that could've been really bad. I'm sorry." The man's voice is hoarse and he talks over himself, as if eager to get all his thoughts before he forgets what he's saying. 
You meet his eyes with a small smile, "I guess we're both at fault, huh?" 
He reciprocates your smile with crescent eyes. "Yup. Can I get you a coffee as reparation?" 
"I mean, it's not a big deal at all."
"I insist," the man levels his gaze at you and you wonder how he looks like he could throw you across the room without breaking a sweat, but still manages to be so soft. 
"I'm Mingyu, by the way," he tells you as he hands you a cup of warm coffee. "Thanks Mingyu. I'm Y/N."
"I've seen you around. You were a new hire, right?"
You take your time with a sip of your coffee before responding, "Yes, I was originally at another branch but my leader wanted me closer to headquarters before they opened up new branches in this city. I don't know, something exposure for me and experience for them."
"You must be good if they sent you here," Mingyu points out and you brush it off with a noncomittal shrug. You find yourself pleasantly enamoured by Mingyu for the next ten minutes or so and you wonder how you'd missed him at all in the first place. But when he tells you he better get going, you nod with a smile, "Of course. It was nice meeting you, Mingyu."
Mingyu becomes the perfect distraction, as one might predict he would. He has a unique charm, what with the contrast between his intimidating physique but surprisingly shy demeanour. He's the textbook golden retriever in people and though you're not a dog person, you find yourself grow fonder of him every time you run into him near the coffee machine or while leaving work in the elevator. 
"You have a work crush?"
You groan loudly, throwing a half-eaten cracker at Joshua. "Come on, what is it with all the people I know and having the most childish vocabulary?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not erudite enough for you? You know it may not seem like it but I am four years older than you and I have that much more–"
"Yeah, yeah, something about experience and knowledge, I've heard it before. And by the way, it's technically three years and three months, not that I'm counting."
"You very clearly are," Joshua points out with a frustrated laugh, "Anyway, you gonna make a move on this guy?"
"No, because if you were actually listening to me, you'd have heard that I like him as a friend and that I need help buying a gift for his birthday."
"Right, right," your brother mumbles in thought, "And that's next week?"
You nod as you pick your phone up, scrolling through the chat with Mingyu to reach the text he'd sent you a day ago: by the way, i'm throwing for my birthday on the 6th. love it if you came ;)
Winky emoji and slightly short notice aside, you'd replied as enthusiastically as you could muster: your birthday??? when were you going to tell me!! and: ofc i'll be there but not before i make you suffer for hiding smth so imp from me :(((
Before you can squeeze any more vaguely helpful tips from Joshua, his bell rings and you sit up with a frown as he stands up to get it. "Ah, Wonwoo's here."
"Wonwoo?" is your shocked gasp to that information, body going stiff because you'd seen him only in passing since the day of the movie. You think you might pass out. Why does nobody think it's important to tell you anything these days? 
You hear their voices in the corridor as Joshua lets Wonwoo in and your mind races with your options. Hiding in the bathroom for the night would be feasible if your brother wasn't a monster who would drag you out within thirty minutes. Maybe you climb out a window? But you were on the eight floor and as much as you liked to joke about death, you'd prefer to escape alive. 
Your brother's voice breaks you out of your scheming, alerting you they're in the living room. "Oh yeah, Y/N, here's someone with not childish vocabulary if you want to replace me." 
You look over your shoulder with a scowl but immediately lose your spirit when you lock eyes with Wonwoo, a lopsided smile greeting you. He's wearing a cozy sweater that's a shade of blue so dark that it might as well be black and you want to start crying because his hands are concealed beneath the sleeves, fists turned sweater paws as he stands there, looking between you and your brother. 
"Why are you two fighting this time?" 
"Nothing." "She has a crush at work." 
Wonwoo lets out a sigh when you both answer simultaneously but seems intrigued by Joshua's statement, eyeing him. "What did you say?"
"She has a–" 
"I'm warning you, if you say the word crush one more time, I will do something so unimaginable to your face at night–"
"She likes a guy from work."
Wonwoo looks surprised as he looks back at you inquisitively and you frown. "Untrue. It's just a guy I made friends with recently. And I only mentioned him so I could get advice but clearly, nobody here supports me so I'm going to take this conversation elsewhere."
"I support you." Wonwoo's quick response has you freezing in your dramatic exit and you turn to look at him in doubt but when his expression is clear of any mischief, you sit back down. 
"Nice to know. But I'd love it if we talked about something else for now. Like dinner." 
The night takes on a more comfortable journey from thereon, with the three of you ordering take-out and fighting it out with a card game while it was on its way. You were actually proud of yourself for acting normal around Wonwoo, despite all your past internal conflict. And you would've gone to sleep somewhat peacefully if he hadn't approached you in the kitchen, while Joshua was taking out trash, having lost the game. 
You were placing the leftovers in the fridge when Wonwoo materialized behind you, the only warning of his presence the question he asks you, "You want any help?" 
You barely hold in a surprised squeak as you spin around to him. "Goddamn it, Wonwoo, make some noise next time you sneak up on me?"
"Then I wouldn't be sneaking up on you, would I?"
You roll your eyes, closing the fridge behind you as you declare, "Well, I'm done here. Thanks for washing the dishes, by the way."
"Sure, I know how much you Hongs hate touching water. I was surprised you installed a faucet in your kitchen at all."
You give Wonwoo a push in response, "That's a very funny way to conceal the fact that you lost at rock paper scissors." 
"I just think it was an unfair way to decide tasks. I'm really bad at that game."
"Right, and assuming one can be good or bad at a game of rock paper scissors, what else would you have preferred to play?"
Wonwoo's eyes twinkle with an idea and then, he puts up a hand and wiggles it around in your face. "Arm wrestling."
Your smile falls, "No. That's just–"
"See," he points at you, "That's how I feel about rock paper scissors." 
Despite how much you claim that the two games are not at all on the same par, you let Wonwoo drag you to the kitchen table, standing across from you and arm ready for the wrestling. Slowly, you lean closer to him, hand coming to rest against his.
"Don't be too cocky," you mumble when his hand squeezes yours, already triumphant before the game had begun. The result of the game itself is pretty obvious but when you start to wrestle and feel Wonwoo's forearm tense against you, it has you light-headed. Your eyes leave the match to look at him, only to find him watching you with a glint in his eye. He smiles when you make eye-contact with him, going strangely silent for all his gloating a minute ago. You raise a brow at him and the bastard has the audacity to send a wink your way before pressing your arm against the wood of the table.
"Whatever," you tell him before his already obnoxious grin can swell any more. He opens his mouth and you're already anticipating something insulting to meet your eyes. But instead, Wonwoo says, "Your hand's so small." You look up at him only for him to take your hand in his and carefully line it against his own palm. 
You feel your cheeks burn. It's all so cliché, especially if he's flirting with you. Arm-wrestling turns into a hand-measuring contest. So trite. And yet, you find yourself smiling.
"See?" your hand wriggles, imitiating Wonwoo from earlier, "This game was rigged. Maybe if you had a handicap or something."
"Okay, I think I better leave before you take a knife and cut my hand up or something…"
– 
wonwoo: hello you
you: hi?
wonwoo: heard there's live music at the pub today. wanna come with?
you: ok creep
wonwoo: excuse me??? just informed you of a one in lifetime opportunity. shua's treating
you: WAIT he is???????
you: the one time i can't come?
wonwoo: you can't?
you: yes… have to attend a coworker's birthday party tonight. sorry :(
wonwoo: u should be sorry
wonwoo: imagine how much damage we could've done to joshua's wallet
You throw yourself into your sheets with a disappointed sigh, stomach uneasy at the thought of missing a hang-out with your favorite duo. But then you roll over to your side and think it's better if you go out with people who you didn't grow up with, for once. It might be a new experience. Just to be clear, this was Karina's voice resounding in your head. She had her way of giving you advice without you calling her for it. 
Three hours later, you're tiring yourself out at Mingyu's birthday party. It's intense, the party, bustling with people but then again, you'd be a fool to think Mingyu wouldn't have a roster full of friends to invite to a party. You meet the man of the night an hour into the party and he throws his hands around when he recognizes you. 
"Y/N, I'm so glad you could make it!"
"Of course. Happy birthday, Mingyu!" 
He leans over the bar and yells something at the bartender who eyes Mingyu and upon recognizing him as the birthday boy, places two shots in front of you. 
"Have a shot with me?" Mingyu grins, a slight layer of sweat shining on his forehead. You chuckle in defeat, "Sure, why not?" 
A shot turns into two and you're working on swallowing the third one when your phone buzzes in the back-pocket of your denim shorts. You're about to take a look at the caller ID and decline almost immediately but when you realize it's Wonwoo calling you, you pause. You excuse yourself from Mingyu's side quickly, making your way to a slightly quieter cornern of the party and answer.
"Wonwoo?" 
"Oh," comes Wonwoo's voice, a little distant, and he seems shocked as if he hadn't expected you to pick up. "Hey, Y/N. How are you?"
"Um. I'm fine, Wonwoo, just at that party I told you about. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. You're not too drunk, are you?" he asks, ironically slurring the question. 
"I should be asking you that question. Wonwoo, where's Joshua? Do you need me to come pick you up?"
"No," his voice is laced with disbelief, "I'm fine. Just a little tipsy. Sorry, you should get back to the party."
"Yeah," you reply, feeling a little uneasy as the liquid in your stomach sloshes around with each movement you make.
"Stay safe, Y/N. Call me if you need anything? I'm gonna go find Shua now."
Before you can ask him what he means by finding Joshua, Wonwoo's hung up on you, almost as quickly as he called you. Okay, so that was weird. And cool, now you're nauseous. 
– 
When Wonwoo drunk-calls you, he thinks he's officially lost you. If you didn't find him weird before, you probably thought him a lot weird now. That's great, he thinks. But the regret of his decision doesn't outweigh the need to see you right now, something about the fact that you're at some guy's birthday party making him all worked up. It should be obvious why he's like this but Wonwoo can avoid a serious thought for days if it keeps him slightly more sane than usual. 
But then the Joshua's bell rings and he opens the door, finding you standing there just like he'd imagined a few minutes ago. You're in a slouchy shirt that unbuttoned all the way to your mid-torso to reveal a black bikini top. He clears his throat to contain the thought that threatens to escape him: fuck, you look hot. 
"Shit," you exclaim when you see Wonwoo, "This isn't my place. Ugh. I'm stupid."
Wonwoo steps closer to you, "Are you okay, Y/N? Did you just get back?"
You nod silently and then take a step back from him. "Sorry, I'm just gonna go to the right place. You can sleep… or whatever."
"Wait, no," he rushes to your side, taking your elbow in his hand, "I'll help you."
You roll your eyes, "It's okay, I'm not drunk, Wonwoo. And by the looks of it, neither are you." But you don't push off the hand on you and simply let him follow you to your door, "Is Shua already asleep?"
"Hmm, he passed out. I don't know why he claims to be heavyweight when he can barely handle alcohol. I had force him to leave the pub before he made himself sick."
You listen intently, unlocking the door with a hum, "He's an idiot." You throw the door open and Wonwoo lets himself in after you. He's clearly not too sober because when you bend down to take of your shoes and your ass juts out dangerously close to his crotch, he almost falls over in an attempt to jump away to give you space. But he remains close just in case you stumble, his own shaky state be damned.
But you're unnervingly stable as you stand back up, taking your hand off the wall when you're done taking your shoes off and brushing them against yourself with a suspicious look thrown at him– unnerving because Wonwoo just wants an excuse to get his hands on you somehow. You're effortlessly magnetic, moving across the hall to your kitchen to pour yourself some water, still unebelievably stable, and Wonwoo follows you in a trance-like manner.
"You want something to drink?"
Your question hangs in complete silence and it's only when you look over at Wonwoo that he comprehends that you're asking him. He clears his throat again, "Um, I don't want to bother you if you want to go to bed." 
You raise a shoulder nonchalantly, "'M not sleepy. And you're here so we might as well hang." You disappear from his sight as you crouch down behind the counter, sliding open a shelf, "I have some shiraz I've been meaning to break open, if you're up for it?" 
"Oh, that sounds great actually," he replies and you reappear with two wine glasses in your hand. You beam at him and he feels a thrill down his spine, recognizing the set you'd bought with him. "Great. Go sit in the living room and I'll be right there." 
"No, I'll help you get the stuff."
You pause your movements toward the liquor shelf, "Come on, I thought it was clear I'm not drunk by now."
"I know," Wonwoo walks closer to you, picking up the glasses you'd set down earlier, "Just want to be here with you." 
You turn back around and Wonwoo doesn't know it's to hide the flush that colors your face at his confession. You spend a minute too long picking out the shiraz to recover and you're glad Wonwoo also doesn't know that you could pick the bottle of red out without actually looking. 
"Geez, I've got sand in my feet now," you complain as you take your first sip of the wine from your glass when you catch sight of the particles lodged in your toes. 
"Sand?" questions Wonwoo as he leans over to get a look. 
"Yeah, it was a beach-themed party," you tell him. He nods, thinking that your outfit makes a lot more sense now. "Mingyu's a silly guy for someone who's turning twenty-five."
"Mingyu, huh?" Wonwoo tries out the name, watching out for how you react. You don't give away much, simply taking another sip but your chest burns for reasons other than alcohol. 
"Hmm, yeah." 
"So do you like him? Joshua seems pretty convinced about it."
You hide your face against the couch, "Fuck Joshua. He's an idiot." 
"So you've said."
"No, but really. Mingyu's a sweet guy and all, but he's… not my type."
Now this is something Wonwoo can work with, relief flooding his veins at your honest reply. "What is your type?"
You meet Wonwoo's gaze for the first time in this conversation and groan again. In your head, you can't help but be burdened by how unbelievably cliché your situation is. Your brother's best friend sitting next to you swirling a glass of red wine, asking you about the guy you liked when it was clearly him you liked. In fact, you think your entire relationship with Wonwoo's always been full of clichés: falling for his charm as a youth and growing into the feelings long after, hanging out with him as grown-ups, going on dates that are left unlabelled, measuring hands with him for fuck's sake– It was a little too on the nose, you think. 
But you don't tell Wonwoo any of this, maybe because you're too scared to or maybe you'd liked to see the plot thicken a little. "I don't have a type." 
Wonwoo is surprisingly quick to leave the topic alone after that and you're thankful, but half-irked because you'd hoped for more. But you can't complain when he has you wrapped up in a completely different conversation, distracting enough that you can barely remember how you finished the wine in your glass. 
"Want a refill?" he asks you when the empty glasses have been sitting on the coffee table for long enough. 
"Mhm, I think I'll have some apple juice instead."
"As you wish." 
He doesn't even bother asking you where you keep your juice and takes off with the glasses to the kitchen. You watch him keenly, letting your heart lead your mind for a little as you take in how cozy the night is when you're in Wonwoo's company.
It's with that uncontrollable giddy smile on your face that Wonwoo catches you. 
"Happy about something?" he asks, placing a cup with golden liquid in front of you and keeping his glass of wine next to it. 
"Yeah. About everything. I'm happy."
Wonwoo smiles, arm reaching to your side and squeezing your hand in a way that leaves you thinking that you might actually like physical touch more than you've been led to think. "I like the sound of that."
Your smile only turns goofier. "What about you? Are you happy?" 
He huffs out a breathy laugh, "I'm not too bad myself. Things have been looking up recently."
Fucking fuck, even everything you say to each other sounds like it's been said before, somewhere else in an idealistic movie about two people slowly falling in love with each other. But you can't get yourself to hate the idea so you simply shift closer to him. 
Wonwoo notices, obviously, and smiles a little because he notices the light dusting of red on your cheeks. Your hair's come undone from what was presumably a low bun at the back of your head and he has an itch to brush the strands away from your face– a thought that if you were privy to would only be an addition the list titled reasons why wonwoo and you are a straight-up cliché.
But you find out soon anyway, because Wonwoo acts on the itch, hand coming to cup your face before a few fingers find the crown of your head, gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear. 
You hum in satisfaction and Wonwoo's heart hammers, thinking that is probably the best reaction he could've hoped for. He takes a sip of the wine in his hand and moves to rest his face on his fist. 
Except you intercept him mid-way, closing the space between you with a noise of surprise that Wonwoo lets out when he feels your warm lips against his. The shock causes the wine in his mouth to bleed into yours, just like you'd hoped, and before Wonwoo can act on your advance, you've already pulled back.
Your smile is warm with shyness when you notice the starstruck expression on Wonwoo's face. "Sorry, I wanted to taste the wine." 
Wonwoo's silent as he processes this, moving slower thanks to the wine in his sytsem and now– the feeling of your kiss on his mind. When he does break from the silence, he moves to take another sip of wine and this time it's him crossing over to you, big palm steadying your jaw so he can spill into you, literally and not. You let out a little noise this time, not expecting him to reciprocate your shameless move but delighted anyway as you move against his mouth. 
There's a third kiss. And you pull away with a dreamy sigh because really, this was straight out of your dreams. Wonwoo rests his head on his hand like he'd intended to about three kisses earlier and watches as you avert your gaze, suddenly bashful. You fix your gaze on the coffee table, proud that you'd finally chosen to place it opposite the couch instead of near the bookshelf. 
"I haven't dated anyone for a while, you know," Wonwoo suddenly blurts out, your hair once again in your face when you turn to face him. "I was in a pretty… fucked-up relationship after high school and that made me give up on love altogether."
You listen attentively, eyes on his as he tells about the person he was with, voice dropping to a soft octave. When he finishes you find his hands with a smile, "Thank you for telling me that. And I'm sorry. You deserve so much better than that. You're a pretty solid guy."
"Really?" Wonwoo's mood turns light again at your comment and you try to maintain your composure, reminding yourself that his smile might be casual but your words still hold weight. 
"Yeah, you're a rare find, Wonwoo. Quiet but not boring, witty yet funny, tall but nice to hug." 
You bite your lip at that last part, clearly giving yourself away. But Wonwoo's eyes light up anyway, "Nice to hug, huh? That's a new compliment. Glad to know." 
You can feel him lean closer to you without looking because his voice is closer to your ears. Flustered, you reach for your abandoned apple juice and take a sip, but overestimate your own sobriety because you manage to spill a third of it on yourself. "Fuck," you curse under your breath and throw your head back against the couch in frustration over yourself. 
"Fuck," Wonwoo echoes you, shifting beside you, "You okay? Wait here, I'll get you a towel." He's already standing up by the time you have it in you to find your footing. You stop him with a slightly damp hand on his arm.
"It's okay, I'll just go throw this in the laundry. Needed to change anyway." 
Wonwoo nods as he makes way so you can pad lightly to your room, ears adorably red. He lets out a heavy breath when you close the door behind you though, placing a hand against chest because the sight of your half-exposed chest slightly wet with juice– well, it was doing more things to him that he'd like. Your low expletive followed by your limp body hadn't helped his wild imagination either, instantly wondering what it might be like to run his hands through– 
"All right, that's it. I need some fresh air." Fresh air so he could feel less like a pervert and more like… normal. And it helps to step out onto your balcony, the scenery of the moonlit night a pleasant surprise to his senses. He hums happily, almost forgetting about his preoccupied thoughts entirely.
And then he hears your voice resound in the living room faintly. He calls out your name, telling you to come out to the balcony, and a minute later, you step out, now clad in a cozy night set, matching blue shirt with shorts. "Hey," you mumble as you join him near the railing, body visibly relaxing in the night air. "Woah, it's nice here."
"It is, isn't it?" 
"Yeah, this is actually my first time coming out here since I moved in. I always figured this place would be full of spider webs and like bird shit." 
Wonwoo chuckles, "I mean we're probably standing on something that's not supposed to be here but it's for us to worry about tomorrow." 
– 
When you wake up the next morning, it takes you a good amount of groaning and screaming to figure out if last night was real. Taking shots with Mingyu at his birthday bash? Understandable. Receiving a call from a self-proclaimed tipsy Wonwoo? Confusing but not impossible. Inviting Wonwoo over for wine and ending up making out with him? Insane. 
What's worse, you couldn't really remember how the night had ended, a consequence of your inebriated self combining with sleep deprivation. But that was a pretty important thing to remember, wasn't it? It could be difference between a regretful farewell and a promising one. You don't know which one would ease the storm in your stomach faster. 
You roll over to unlock your phone and sit up when you see you have two unread texts. And then, you see they're both from Mingyu. 
mingyu: thanks for coming last night :D
mingyu: sorry i couldn't see u out. hope you made it home safe! 
You sigh in barely contained disappointment as you throw your phone back into the sheets, looking up at the ceiling. You suppose you ought to do something about the Mingyu situation soon but right now, you find the idea of suffocating in your bedsheets for the next two hours much more comforting. 
– 
See now, this right here is your problem. As much as you complained about hating being a cliché, you kind of wish your situation with Wonwoo was more of a cliché because right now doesn't exactly feel like something out of a film.
It feels like hard cold reality. And it's not the first time either.
1: things will happen between you and Wonwoo: he holds your hand, he kisses your lips.
2: he doesn't text you about it and you're too much of a coward to force him out of his shell.
3: things end up all in the air. And now, you're miserable.
But later that evening, you find out there's more to this list of not-so-cliché things that happen between you and Wonwoo.
4: you run into Wonwoo at your brother's place.
He's so casual, too, dressed in a plaid shirt and lounging on Joshua's couch, gaming his time away. You almost immediately regretting making an impromptu trip to your brother's place but it's too late to back out because Joshua's already set the dinner table for three. How you despise your extroverted, loving brother. 
"Did you make that deadline you were complaining about yesterday?" Joshua asks you over a spoonful of his soup. You nod, "Yeah, turns out it was easier when I stopped whining about it."
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, earning him a look from you which you quickly retract, going back to your quiet self when the two engage in conversation. You're glad to ignore but they find it less than easy to, given how unusual your disengagement is. Wonwoo does have an idea for your mood but he doesn't feel like discussing it with your brother just yet. 
So when Joshua asks him, "Do you know what's up with her?" when you excuse yourself to the bathroom, Wonwoo stiffens. Why was he asking Wonwoo? … Had he been obvious?
"Dunno. Maybe work's busy or something."
"You think I should go pester her with some ice-cream later tonight?" 
 "Best if you don't do that. She might disown you."
"That's like legally impossible, Wonwoo. Right?" 
When you take an unexpectedly long time in the bathroom, Joshua goes on. "Did something happen between you two?"
Again, Wonwoo tenses up. "...No. Why do you ask?"
"I mean, she seemed fine yesterday when she came over. So I don't think I'm the problem here. Not that I'm accusing you of anything. Just… I know y'all have been bonding recently."
Wonwoo averts his gaze, deeply uncomfortable with this chat. "Um, yeah, I guess."
"Listen, man, I don't mean to take on the older brother tone in this conversation or anything but…" Joshua sighs as he plays with a leftover piece of bread, "You know I'm okay if something does happen with you and her, right? I trust you. And well, she was an adult long before me so I hardly have a say there."
Wonwoo stares at his half-empty glass of water, frowning. "Okay, cool." His answer is curt because he's still caught off-guard by this conversation. He'd wanted to bring up the developments between you himself, in his own way, but this left him a little panicked. Like, he was being rushed to make a move. And his brain ended up shutting down in the process.
…but it really wasn't the best time for his malfunction, given that you'd managed to overhear a good half of that conversation, specifically on the Joshua asking Wonwoo about you and him being indifferent about it. What was he thinking? What were you thinking?
5: you storm out of dinner without an explanation. you pretend you don't hear wonwoo call after you when you do. his texts that night go unanswered. 
How's that for a cliché, huh?
– 
These days, you're trying find the joy in small things. Like waking up to your very first alarm for the morning. Or brewing an especially aromatic coffee at home. 
Like making it to the end of a phone-call with Karina without talking about Wonwoo. 
"Oh, wait, before I forget to ask, how did it go with Wonwoo?"
Almost. 
You take a deep breath to steady yourself, "Not too well. I mean, we kissed. But then, he didn't text me for like three days after. Then I run into him at Joshua's and he acts all… cold. And judging by that one conversation I overheard, he thinks everything that happened between us was a mistake." 
"Okay, okay, hold your horses, friend, I feel like a lot happened there. You kissed? Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?!" Karina sounds genuinely upset and you let out a groan.
"Well, I was trying to stop bringing up Wonwoo every time we catch up. It's annoying and I want to hear more about your life than complain about mine."
"We can both complain about our lives, Y/N. I have all the time in the world. At least till six. Anyway, that's besides the point! You kissed but he ghosted you afterward? And did he actually say he thought it was all a mistake?"
You bite your lip in rumination and then admit, "He didn't actually say that but it was implied. You would agree if you'd heard the same conversation as I!"
As it turns out, Karina doesn't seem to approve of the conclusion you've come to all on your own. But then you point out that it's been over a week and it's been radio silence. So you have every right to feel as hurt as you do. 
"I suppose you do. But still, it wouldn't hurt to approach him first." 
"I would rather die."
"Okay, well, maybe find out how he's doing from Joshua?"
"Will not."
"You're being difficult right now, Y/N. What do you want to do then?"
"I want to move on and not think about Wonwoo. Maybe I should go on a blind date or something."
"We're not in a movie right now, man, plus, I'm pretty sure you were the one who swore your life to finding love organically and whatnot."
"...Gah, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that. Fine, I'll do… something." 
Your words are nothing if not misleading because by something, you don't mean to communicate with Wonwoo like a sane person might. Instead you check up on Mingyu, who you've still been succesfully making small talk at work with, and ask him if he wanted to get dinner. The enthusiasm with which he responds is comforting, a relieving contrast from the tension in your relationship with you-know-who. 
mingyu: omg i woud love to
mingyu: but im unfortuntely busy tonight :((((
mingyu: would you be down for tomorrow? i can make some killer spaghetti if given the opportunity
you: make???? i was thinking of buying the food… but i won't turn that offer down
mingyu: i'm a man of many talents ;) 
You work out the details of the date (neither of you call it that, but it's understood to be one) over the night and you feel a little uneasy as the afternoon of the day comes to a close. Either way, you find a comfortable dress that is flattering against your skin and welcome Mingyu into your place, letting his excitement work its contagious magic. 
If you're following the plot line of this story closely, you'd figure out that the next cliché is this: Wonwoo behind the door across from your home, just now learning about this date of yours with Mingyu. 
He's broken his pledge to himself and asked Joshua about you, after having missed seeing you there for the past week. Joshua had hesitated to respond but is honest anyway, muttering, "I think she has a date over."
"A date?" is Wonwoo instantaneous question, barely-concealed dread underlying in its tone. 
"Yeah, remember that guy from work whose birthday she attended?" Joshua pretends to have forgotten his name but his best friend is quick to chime in, "Mingyu?"
But you'd told him he was just a friend. You'd called him sweet for fuck's sake, and that was the most platonic adjective you could use for a potential love interest. Well, he's been proven wrong by your date tonight.
He looks down at his clasped palms, the same ones that were intertwined with your skin, first the skin of your hands, then your cheek when he'd leaned into kiss you. And if he hadn't spent the last four days regretting every minute he didn't call you up, he sure did want to punch a hole in the fabric of time right about now. 
"You okay there, buddy?" 
Joshua's concern brings Wonwoo back to his body and he looks up, lips pursed and your brother thinks how ridiculous it is that both of you won't just talk it out. But he keeps that judgement to himself, choosing to sit back and watch his best friend pace it out. 
"Yeah, I'm fine. Fine. Really fine. I'm okay." He clears his throat, the first tell. "I'm just… um, a little hot. It's hot in here, huh." 
Joshua tames his bemused smile. "Is it? I just turned up the air-con though?"
"Oh, well, it's just me then. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, um, I love this video game."
"Wonwoo, we were in the middle of choosing a card game to play."
"Fuck. Okay, sorry, just give me a minute, I need to go call… my mother."
"No worries, my guy, give Mrs. Jeon my greetings!" 
Across the hall, you're busy watching over Mingyu as he makes his way around your kitchen. You say watching over because really, the man is so clumsy in his own feet, you wonder how he's lived this long. You have to make sure he doesn't cut a limb off every two seconds.
But then your phone buzzes urgently in your pocket and you pull it out, the light smile playing on your face falling when Wonwoo's name pops up on your screen. Now he texts you?
wonwoo: hey! you think we could talk?
You lock your screen almost as soon as you read the message because honestly, you don't have time to dwell over this man in your phone when there's a whole another person cooking you dinner in front of you. That's what ends up leaving a heartbroken Wonwoo, slumped on Joshua's couch as he barely zones into the movie that was playing on the screen. 
Joshua's had it with sitting around when Wonwoo stays unmoving throughout the ending credits– the man hates the credits for crying out loud!-- and instead decides to play cupid. It wasn't ideal, having to set up his sister with his best friend but well, any commoner could see how clearly you were meant to be with each other and he'd rather not have to listen to both sides' misery. 
It's okay timing, you've finished eating dinner with Mingyu, showering his food with compliments the whole time and flustering with your genuine shock at his abilities the whole night. He's helping you clean up with a cheeky grin on his face whenever he leans in a little too close to place a utensil back in its place and you let a smile overtake your face. But you can barely let yourself enjoy the date because if Wonwoo ill-timed text wasn't enough, you're done for when both him and Joshua show up at your door.
"What the fuck?" you ask your brother because you're positive you told him you had a date tonight and then you spot a spaced out Wonwoo next to him, and suddenly put two and two together. 
Wonwoo's eyes never leave your figure, taking in how beautiful the blue dress you were wearing was and how you'd put your hair up in a half-bun, a few strands framing your face prettily. He feels sick, first in a good way and then Mingyu pops up behind you, and now Wonwoo's sick in a bad way. The tall man looks so comfortable next to you, arm brushing against yours as he raises his eyebrows in confusion at the two intruders.
"Sorry, Gyu, these are…" you start to introduce them as they are and then, find a particularly provoking way to put it, "...my brothers."
Wonwoo might actually throw up right here and right now. Gyu? Brothers???
Joshua butts in quickly, "Well, technically, I'm Y/N's older brother, and this is Wonwoo, my friend."
"Ohhh," Mingyu nods in understanding, bowing when he realizes Joshua's your sibling, "Nice to meet you. I'm Mingyu and I work with Y/N."
Before you know it, Joshua works his charms on Mingyu and suddenly, date night for two turns into family night for four. You watch in dismay as your date spends a full hour talking to your brother about one thing and another, actually considering setting them up for a minute. And then, Mingyu glances at his watch and sighs, telling you he needs to take off. 
Joshua, devil incarnate, offers to walk Mingyu out and before you can protest, Mingyu accepts (????) and you watch helplessly as your brother leaves you alone with Wonwoo, narrowly missing the pointed look Joshua sends his best friend on his way out. 
The room now silent with them gone, you stand up with a wary sigh, patting down your dress. Wonwoo's watching and you know because the first words he says that evening are, "You look beautiful tonight."
You hate how the heat creeps up your neck immediately at his beck and call. But you keep from telling him off because even that would mean you caving in. 
But then he follows you to the kitchen, steps in tandem as you pretend to busy yourself with the dishes. The space between you is small though and you end up bumping into the man trying to reach for the fridge. He takes the chance and holds your wrist in his hand. "Hey," he breathes, "You won't even look at me?" 
"No, I've seen enough."
"I'm assuming that includes the text I sent you tonight. And the ones before that?"
God, you hate how good Wonwoo is at frustrating you. You snap, "Don't act like this is on me, Wonwoo. You're the one who pretends like nothing's happened between us." 
"Really? Because a lot's happened between us, Y/N. A lot of things that haven't happened with you and that Mingyu." 
You scoff, brushing his hand off your wrist. "That is so typical of you. Coming around because you're jealous? But you can't stand to tell my brother something happened between us? What is this, a game to you?"
Wonwoo freezes when he considers what you've said. "Did Shua say something to you?"
You cross your arms, "No. I overheard you telling him. I can't believe it though. I really thought we had something good going for us."
You break away from the arm that Wonwoo raises to keep you close and throw yourself onto your couch with an exasperated sniffle. This couch sure has seen a lot, you think wistfully, silently listening as Wonwoo's footsteps came closer. He's sitting next to you then, hesitant arm around you.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm really sorry. What you heard was… me being an idiot. I wasn't ready to talk about it with Shua so soon. I meant everything happened so fast. I hadn't exactly planned on falling for my best friend's sister, you know? Or kissing her in her apartment either. But it happened and I'm so glad it did. I was just slow at processing it. I'm sorry."
You groan. "It's not completely your fault, I guess. I just wish you would've talked to me about it. I felt so alone the whole time." 
Suddenly Wonwoo's moving up from next to you and dropping onto his knees so that you're now meeting his eyes. He looks concerned, mouth ajar as he takes your hands in his. "Are you with Mingyu?"
You let out a sound of disbelief, "No! I'm– I just called him over because I was mad at you! I thought you thought it was a mistake so I…"
"I don't. And I never did. I'm just scared. But I shouldn't have made that your problem. I love hanging out with you though and I especially love kissing you. It would be great if you'd let me take you out on a date instead, please?" 
And in that moment with Wonwoo on his knees in front of you, looking at you like you'd just told him he would live forever, you don't think you could do anything but say yes. 
– 
"You think we're a cliché?!" 
You flinch at Wonwoo's shocked question after you'd revealed to him the mental list of clichés that you embodied in your relationship with him. He's nearly seething when he finds out you're not joking. 
"Y/N, you know that's the meanest thing you could ever say to me? Am I really that bad a boyfriend?"
"Woo, my love, will you calm down?" you take one of his hands in yours, "I don't think clichés are as bad as you think they are. They're cliché for a reason! It's because they're meant to be done over and over again. They're tried and true."
"Tried and trite, more like."
"Come on, Woo, you can't act like you don't see it! From the very beginning!" 
He takes a lick at his gelato and you smile when you see him softening a little. You stop walking and stand in his way, barely concerned about the strangers littering the small ice-cream shop when you press a kiss to his lips. "I love you," you mumble against his ice-cold mouth. He shoots you a look that informs you that he knows what you're doing but he shoots back, " I love you, too."
"And love itself is cliché, don't you think?"
Wonwoo closes his eyes as if in physical pain while you uncontrollably laugh. "I knew I shouldn't have fallen for that! You're trying to make me cry in public, aren't you?"
"Aww, it's okay to cry, Woo, baby. Emotions are only natural–"
"I'm calling Shua and asking him to pick you up. I'm leaving."
"Okay, I went too far. Don't make me commute with my brother, I beg you."
– 
"Love, you ready to go?" you hear Wonwoo ask from the living room. You'd banished him to the couch after he'd made it his life mission to get in your way while you tried to get ready for your date. Well, double date actually. Karina was visiting you on break with her boyfriend, Taeyong, and she'd asked if you'd be down to get dinner with them. You had never agreed to dinner plans faster. 
"I am," you call back, just as you smear on lipstick, checking your teeth for any missed food particles for good measure. "Can I come in now?" 
You can see Wonwoo's silhouette at the door, gingerly watching you from the back for confirmation. You melt with a soft smile, beckoning him in, "Yes. Your exile's over."
Wonwoo celebrates with an exaggerated fist pump and you laugh at his antics when he skips over excitedly. "I'm a free man," he murmurs as his hands naturally slide down your arms to find your fingers. He twirls you around, admiring the black dress you broke out for the ocassion. "You look gorgeous," he says with a kiss to your cheeks.
"Are you quoting Taylor Swift at me?" you ask him with a giggle.
"Who's that?" he questions with a poorly feigned frown of confusion. You roll your eyes but open your arms invitingly, "Will you hug me?" 
Hugging had gradually become your favorite part of your skinship with Wonwoo, even more so than kissing, because the way he would shoot you a loving smile before wrapping his arms around and swallowing you into a world of cozy and comfort… yeah, you don't think anything could compare easily. Sometimes, he would hum happily, the vibrations would only soothing you into the embrace further and often your boyfriend had to peel you off him so you could actually get on with your day. 
Today, he lets you cling on longer than usual (he likes to say he's rationing his hugs. You tell him he's just a big tease), probably because he's busy relishing in being overwhelmed by your scent and the little kisses you sprinkle across his exposed neck. When he pulls away, you don't complain like normal, instead revealing the stars in your eyes to him. "You're warm. I love this sweater of yours." 
It was the same navy sweater that had you sweating over Wonwoo back when you were still going back and forth with your feelings for each other. He chuckles in amusement and then steps away without warning, earning a whine from you. But then he tugs the sweater off and your expressions turns playful. 
"Woo," you start warningly, "you know we're meeting them at the restaurant by nine–"
You're stopped mid-sentence when Wonwoo straightens out his garment and commands out, "Raise your arms for me, baby?"
But this is not his bedroom voice, no, no. This is his sappy voice and you already know what he's doing when he pulls the sweater over your head and down your torso. "It looks cute," Wonwoo comments by the time you have the sleeves pulled down properly. 
"You know I hate that word, Woo," you complain but he doesn't let you, pecking your forehead. You sigh in defeat and admire the sweater in the mirror, the fabric sitting surprisingly well against the skirt of your dress. You shrug, "I suppose I can work with this new outfit."
"If not, I can always just take it off for you–"
"Okay, we're leaving before you say another word!" 
Wonwoo laughs as he lets you pull him out after you, out the living room and into the hallway. He stands next to you, hands in his pocket while he waits for you to lock the door and glances at Joshua's door, wondering what his best friend was up to. You don't give a chance to do something about it though because your hands back on his arm in no time – and he swears you touch his arm for reasons beyond appropriate but you'd rather die than admit to it– and walk into the night. 
You meet Karina at a place called Love in the Air and Wonwoo's had listen to you go on, super smug, about how beautifully cliché the name and ambience of the restaurant is. Each dish has a romantic origin, like the shall I compare thee to a summer's day cocktail that Karina and Taeyong share, down to the lipstick-shaped bottles of wine served to your table. And as much as Wonwoo pretends to hate the cliché of love, he still orders the matching Valentine's soup as you just so you can watch his order come out in surprise. 
And as much as Wonwoo pretends he doesn't love the cliché of love, when you lean into his arm at the end of the night, already dozing off when he runs his fingers through your scalp, he can't help but let his heart soar with affection for you. And he thinks he would, after all, be in a cliché if it means to end up in your arms night after night. 
--
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
hiii oh my god why is this fic actually long!!! i wrote in like a day too so i'm just confused... it was 3k a minute and then 29 pages the other?? that's just wonwoo magic or smth i guess... this was requested and i hope the anon who asked for this enjoys it!!! writing it made a lil sick because of how sappy it is but ... it is what it is.
and consider this me admitting that i wouldn't mind having joshua be my brother... and that's just the flavor of parasocial relationship i'm dealing with these days lol
as always: lots of love to all friends and foes !!
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amhrosina · 9 months
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Be My Baby
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Summary: Frank takes you on a weekend trip to his cabin after you have a rough week at work. Your first stop? The enormous bathtub with enough room for soooo many activities.
Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.8k
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a/n: hello! i'm back! my personal life is still a wreck but i missed writing for frank. this is probably the most self indulgent fic i've ever written lol it is quite literally the most ooey-gooey romantic plot before the softest smut imaginable. what can i say? i'm a hoe for soft frank. enjoy & thank you to the nonnie that requested something similar to this!
warnings: softest smut imaginable, fluff to the max, 'i'm an asshole to everyone except you' trope, a teensy little bit of crybaby reader if you squint, frank would burn the world for reader, reader is sOoOoO in love with frank (who isn't??), they're both a little wrapped up in each other's world and don't give a shit about what's happening outside of them type of vibes, pet names, etc.
From what you had seen, Frank’s cabin was cozy and warm, but since your arrival half an hour ago, you’d only had the luxury of soaking in the tub while Frank took care of unloading the car. He’d insisted on doing it alone, claiming his girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger for anything, and honestly after the week you’d had, you were temporarily glad he was as stubborn as a mule. You were sure that sentiment would fade the next time you were feeling bratty, but for now, you tried your best to relax and forget what an awful week it had been at work.
The heat of the bath water sent a wave of goosebumps down your spine, enticing a low groan from your lips. Sinking further into the water, you realized just how big the tub was. It stretched at least six feet across and was almost deep enough to stand, clearly a custom made feature of the cabin. You supposed Frank probably needs the room, being as large a man as he is. Still, it felt like you were in a luxurious hot tub, rather than a regular bathtub.
“There’s a button to turn on the jets if you want ‘em.”
Frank’s gentle voice carried across the bathroom, startling you from your relaxed state. You hadn’t even heard him come in. You turned, eyeing his powerful figure as he made his way toward you and sat on the edge of the tub. It was easy to get lost in the way he moved, and you tried your best to not stare at the muscles straining against the black longsleeve he was wearing.
“You okay?” He asked, reaching out to softly run his knuckles along the curve of your damp cheek. He was always gentle with you, but the desire to take care of you was even more present in his eyes than usual. It really had been a shitty week.
“This place is amazing.” You said in awe, turning your face away to hide your grin. His hand, already knowing what you were trying to do, softly gripped your jaw and turned it back to face him.
“You barely saw the place.” He chuckled.
“Whose fault is that?” You raised an eyebrow at him and sat up, fully exposing your bare chest to him. His eyes briefly flicked down to your nipples, hardening as the cool air touched them, before returning his gaze upwards. “Get in. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
He nodded and stood, but began walking in the opposite direction of the bath. You furrowed your brow, watching him tug his shirt off and throw it on the counter. When he saw your expression, he grinned.
“Hang on. I brought something for you.”
“What do you mean?” You called after him, but he was already moving again.
He disappeared through the doorway, generating even more confusion, before returning with an assembly of things tucked under his arms. You watched as he worked his way around the room, placing various objects here and there until finally he flicked off the lights and turned to face you again.
The room was now aglow with flickering candle light, coating Frank’s looming figure in a warm haze. He’d gone for mostly unscented, knowing how strong smells could give you headaches, but had left in a few lavender candles because he knew how much it relaxed you. He also managed to sneak an entire bottle of champagne into the car without you noticing, of which he was pouring into two flutes. You blinked back tears as he handed you your glass, unable to express how warm your chest felt at the effort he was putting in to make you feel better.
“Frank.” You murmured, smiling bashfully, “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 
“‘s what you deserve.” He shrugged, stepping out of the rest of his clothes. 
He sank into the tub next to you, tugging your body against his in a swift motion. He sat with his back against the edge, allowing you to easily settle your knees on either side of his thighs, facing him in the dim room. You sat just a little taller than him at this angle - chest pressed against his warm skin, arms resting on his broad shoulders - and God, he looked divine. The drive had taken a few hours, just long enough for the stubble to return to his cheeks after this morning’s shave, giving him a rugged look that you thought was just so handsome. You were unable to resist the temptation of running your nails over it in a soft scratch, eliciting a groan from deep in Frank’s chest. The rumble reverberated through your chest as you pressed yourself fully against him, seeking more of his affection. He tugged your head down onto his shoulder and began running his fingers along the base of your neck in a soothing pattern.
“You never answered my question earlier.” He murmured, resting his jaw against your head. “You okay, sweet girl?”
You sighed, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment as you mulled over your feelings. You were a sensitive soul to begin with, and your boss had been on edge all morning when he finally snapped at you for something you had no control over, which ultimately had you tearing up for the rest of the day. When you’d walked through the door crying, Frank’s eyes flashed violently between anger at your boss and sympathy for you. The sympathy had won, and now you were in a beautiful cabin in upstate New York, wrapped in his strong arms. Still, you weren’t sure how you were going to deal with your boss’ temper when you returned to work on Monday.
“I don’t know,” you finally replied, shrugging, “Can you ask me again later?”
You felt his cheeks widen into a small grin. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t think I won’t.” He teased, calling you on your avoidant tendencies before you could even notice them yourself.
“How long have you had this place?” You wondered, nuzzling into his heated skin.
“I bought it a few months after Maria and the kids.” He said softly, almost whispering when he had to relay his wife’s name aloud. “Thought maybe I was done with the city. Change can be good, ya’ know?”
“But you came back.” You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. 
“But I came back.” He parroted, nodding. “And then I met you.”
“And you stayed.” You finished for him.
“Of course I stayed. Couldn’t leave you behind, sweet girl. ‘ve been sweet on you since the day I met you.”
This was true. From the moment you’d met, he’d been nothing but gentle and kind toward you. You had no idea, of course, that this type of behavior was incredibly far away from Frank Castle’s usual attitude until you’d met Matt Murdock, who was so shocked at Frank’s subdued personality and general softness around you that Frank had to physically close Matt’s gaping jaw for him.
“But you never sold the place?” You questioned.
“I figured we might need somewhere to run away to every once in a while. Are you mad that I didn’t tell you about it before today? I wanted it to be a surprise.”
For a moment, he looked genuinely worried that he might’ve upset you.
“How could I be mad when I’m sitting in this enormous tub, surrounded by candles and champagne, pressed up against the man of my dreams?”
He smiled then, and you could tell it was a genuine smile because of the way his cheeks dimpled at the corner of his laugh lines. It was an award winning smile, you thought. You gently set the empty champagne glasses on the edge of the tub before cupping his cheeks in your hands.
“My Frankie,” you mumbled, running your thumbs across his cheekbones, “What would I do without you?”
You really hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but every time you looked at him, you felt yourself being pulled closer and closer to him. His compassion and kindness toward you, even after everything he’d been through, was something you couldn’t avoid leaning into. All your life you’d been taking care of others, and finally, here was someone begging to take care of you.
“You don’t have to worry about that, okay? ’m here to stay.” He mumbled, bringing the pads of your fingertips to his lips for individual, soft kisses. “I love you, and ‘m gonna take care of you forever.”
Tears welled in your eyes as an overwhelming rush of emotion passed over you. In your arms was a man that should’ve been bitter and angry at the world around him. He had earned the right to become spiteful and hardened, and no one could fault him for that. And yet - and yet - in your arms was a man that loved you with his entire being. Who understood you at your core, saw the dark parts of you, and loved those parts even more. Who was soft for no one but you. Who you loved, too.
A tear slid down your cheek as you kissed him, long and slow and sensual because you wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He smiled into the kiss, cradling your head with his beautiful, calloused hands. It wasn’t enough. You needed his gentle touch everywhere. Pressing yourself against him, you felt yourself sliding along his achingly hard cock, raising the already warm temperature in the room to searing. Heat pulsed between your legs, begging to be touched.
“My pretty girl,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing the corner of your mouth before following the curve of your jawline to your neck, “My pretty, sensitive girl.”
The praise made your head swim. You rocked your hips again, sliding along his length until you were hovering directly over him, waiting for the go ahead to sink down. He grunted, pressing open mouthed kisses up your throat before coaxing your hips lower and lower. You gasped when he finally pushed into you, and Frank took the opportunity to lick the inside of your gaping mouth as he did so. You shuttered against him, wanting everything he had to offer and more.
“P-please, Frankie.” You murmured, arching your back as he bucked his hips upwards.
“Please what, sweetheart?” He breathed, wrapping one of his enormous hands around the back of your head, forcing you to look down at him as you rode him. His other arm was wrapped around your torso, tugging your hips forward and back to stimulate your clit against the base of his cock. It was such an erotic way to be held that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. He leaned his head against your forehead and kissed the tears that made their way down your flushed skin. “Tell me, sweet girl.”
“I l-love you.” You purred, stuttering as he made his way down your body, kissing everywhere he could reach. When he got to your pebbled nipples, you sucked in a sharp breath. He knew exactly how to get you off, and he was staring right at them.
“I love you too, pretty girl.” He grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to each of your nipples, eliciting a pornographic moan from deep in your chest. 
He continued to push and pull your hips in a steady rhythm, grinding your clit against his pelvis as you bounced up and down his length. Slowly, in a teasing manner that had a new wave of fresh, needy tears streaming down your cheeks, he leaned forward and circled his tongue around the sensitive nub. You whined with impatience as he pulled away, only to offer the same kitten lick to your other breast. You knew he would take care of you like he always did, but his teasing was making your entire body tremble with anticipation. 
“I know, I know,” he cooed, kissing the valley between your breasts, “‘t’s okay, baby. Be patient. I’ll take care of you.”
You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a mewl. You felt the hand Frank had been using to hold your head steady loosen its grip, and suddenly, he was softly wiping the tears away from under your eyes with his thumbs.
“You’re doing so good for me, bunny.” He murmured, and you very nearly came at the pet name he loved to praise you with. “‘m gonna make you feel real good, okay?”
“Please,” you begged, digging your fingers into his shoulders, “Need you.”
That was all it took for Frank to finally snap. In one swift motion, he wrapped his lips around your breast and began to run his tongue across your sensitive nipple. His hand traveled from cradling your cheek to rubbing small, sloppy circles around your pulsing clit. You keened, overcome with so much pleasure that you felt your entire body trembling against Frank’s.
The bathroom was big enough for your soft moans to echo, and other than the sloshing of the bath water, that was the sound Frank heard as you came apart on top of him. Your head was spinning as the heat in your gut finally found its release, uncoiling in waves of overwhelming pleasure that sent you reeling. 
“That’s it,” he breathed, “Just like that, pretty girl. You’re so good for me, baby.”
His fingers hadn’t stopped circling your clit. You were quickly growing overstimulated and conflicted, wanting nothing more than to keep riding him while also needing to get away from his dexterous and sinful fingers. He watched you for a moment, in awe - the way your lips parted every time a moan slipped out of your mouth, the heaving of your chest as your heart rate tried and failed to return to normal, the intense trembling of your limbs every time he circled your clit. He wasn’t worthy. He knew that. He didn’t care. He’d take care of you for as long as you’d let him, and he’d enjoy every second of it.
“F-Frankie,” you stuttered in between heaving breaths, “I can’t- I’m- It’s sensitive.”
“Shh, sh, sh, sh, I know, baby. I know,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and up your neck, “Can you give me one more, bunny? Be good and give me one more.”
You shuttered against him, resting your forehead against his and breathing out a sultry whine. He continued his onslaught of kisses along your jawline, following the upward curve of your chin until his lips were on yours again. His agile tongue swept into your mouth mid-moan, sending heat into your already molten core.
“Wanna feel you come around me again, baby.” He groaned and tightened his hold around your torso, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip before capturing your mouth in his again. 
He had brought you to the brink again already. You squeezed around him, earning a rare groan from Frank. The usually stoic and quiet man let out another sinful moan when you arched your back and squeezed again. He was as close as you were to the edge, and God, the tension was palpable. 
Finally, in a moment of pure bliss, he nipped at your bottom lip and let out a soft, barely there whimper, which sent you careening off the edge and into oblivion. You could feel yourself clenching around him as you came, but your head had been sent straight to a euphoric haze. Your heart thundered in your chest as Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight against his chest, coming inside your sensitive, throbbing pussy. 
You’d both worked yourselves into a haze, high off each other’s touch. The comedown was gentle and warm - soft caresses of each other’s skin, chaste kisses pressed to collarbones and fingertips, thundering heartbeats slowing in unison. The bath water was surprisingly still warm, and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into Frank’s chest with languorous, droopy eyes.
“You okay?” He asked, running his fingers up the length of your spine.
You nodded into his chest, sighing. “I’m perfect.”
“‘m glad.” He responded, kissing your forehead lightly. “‘m sorry you had such a rough week.”
“I’m not.” You giggled, glancing around at the luxurious bathtub you were in. “This place is like a dream.”
He held you tighter against him, resting his chin on your head before responding. 
“You don’t know the half of it, pretty girl.”
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wileys-russo · 7 months
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small intimate interactions II l.williamson x reader
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this one might just be up there with some of my fave fics i've written so far small intimate interactions II l.williamson x reader
"can i help you with anything cheffy?" you turned to the voice of your best friend, meeting her beaming smile with one of amusement. "i don't know, can you?" you teased the older girl at her lack of culinary skills making her scoff and hold a hand to her chest in offence.
"i come in here offering myself and my services to you and you mock me, you know now i think you can do it all alone!" leah scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking dramatically off into the distance, though she still made no move to leave the kitchen.
"and yet, here you still are." you grinned tossing a tea towel at the blonde which landed on her head. "ow! leah." you squealed as she flicked you with it, sending a sharp crack around the room and a mischievous smile in your direction.
"take the tray of chicken out of the oven please, if you can manage that." you teased her, turning back to what you had going on the stove. "yes chef!" leah saluted with a serious nod, grabbing the oven mits from beside you and doing as you'd asked, careful not to burn herself or drop what you'd spent the last couple of hours preparing.
"need a hand?" steph appeared next closely followed by jen, both girls looking at you with raised eyebrows as you flittered around the kitchen.
"if you could start taking everything out to the table and get the girls to take a seat would be great, thank you!" you smiled appreciatively, starting to dish everything else up and chuckling as you heard a strong scottish accent scream that dinner was ready from the table.
"i could have done that jen!" you laughed as the woman only grinned with a shrug, helping steph to carry everything out. "it all looks delicious, as always you've gone above and beyond. our little hostess with the mostess!" leah kissed at your cheek fondly causing them to heat up as you turned away from her, attempting to hide your blush.
the english skipper been your best friend for a few years now, having gravitated toward you from the very moment you moved from australia and signed with her beloved arsenal.
seeing your obvious nerves at joining the team and the lingering homesickness of moving so far away from everything you'd ever known she'd offered to help you get settled and given you your very first tour of london.
and once you got to know one another properly you followed each other like a shadow, one very rarely ever seen without the other much to the teasings of all of your friends about codependency issues.
the two of you had always had quite an affectionate friendship but it wasn't anything that raised any sort of red flag for you, after all you'd always been a touchy person with your close friends back home.
so you never thought anything of it when leahs hand would intertwine with yours as you'd walk somewhere together, or gently brush your thigh as you sat beside one another in the locker room, or even how closely the two of you would sit pressed together and practically on top of one another on the bus to games, avidly chattering away.
it didn't seem out of sorts when you'd cuddle up together when watching a movie or would have regular sleepovers and share the bed at one anothers homes, or when her long arms would wrap around your waist from behind and she'd cling to you tiredly after a particularly brutal training session.
the two of you would regularly mess around with one another, play fighting and pushing, poking and wrestling like hyperactive school children.
you'd often spend your sleepovers not even sleeping, instead laying down backwards on the bed, legs draped against the headboard and heads hanging off the edge of the mattress as you spoke about anything and everything, suffocated by your laughter at how utterly absurd your topics of conversation would become as time gradually ticked into the early hours of the morning.
it wasn't out of sorts for her warm lips to press fondly against your cheek or forehead, or for her slender fingers to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you rambled on about something. in fact the english girl could read you like a book, always knowing exactly what you needed sometimes before you even knew yourself.
none of that felt weird for you, or at least it didn't until you'd gone out for a nice meal with a small handful of the girls after training one evening, though you were minus leah who was unwell and had headed right home to sleep.
it was then that steph had casually asked when you and the english skipper had started dating, sending you into a flustered spiral. you'd of course denied it right away and asked why the older girl had even thought that, your national teammate rapidly back peddling at her mistake and apologizing profusely at her assumption.
caitlin however had taken a much less apologetic approach, stating that it was obvious to absolutely everyone but you and leah that the two of you were clearly and hopelessly in love with one another.
katie and beth backing her up right away it sent your cheeks bright red and you'd left the restaurant early, needing some fresh air and to go home and sort out the immense wave of emotions which washed over you at the thought of loving your best friend as anything more than just that.
that was around a month ago and you'd tried your very best to push it to the back of your mind and carry on as you always had with the blonde.
though now things that once seemed like a comfortable second nature for you raised alarms that hadn't been there previously, leahs slender fingers tracing shapes on your bare legs as you watched a movie and they sat stretched across her lap. or her arm draped across the back of your shoulders as you curled into her side on the lounge, even just the lingering hugs you two shared at every greeting or goodbye that maybe lasted a minute or two too long to just be friendly.
each and every small intimate interaction left you reeling and your mind a disgustingly complicated mess of overthinking. you had no idea what you were going to do about it, especially given that you couldn't even work out within yourself how you felt about the blonde.
you'd always loved her, but the thought of being in love with her was a foreign and terrifying one, and something you avoided dwelling on at any and all costs.
it seemed easier that way, to just be in sheer denial of anything at all changing or shifting, to just carry on as you always had which was of course an impossible task.
it left you clouded with doubt and plagued with the ever prominent and growing fear that acknowledging any of this could mean losing leah all together, in every capacity.
"oh there's another tray in here, do you want me to take it out?" the taller girl realized as she went to close and turn off the oven. "oh those are yours! i almost forget, yeah if you could please." you nodded, flicking off the stove and quickly running the now empty pots under some cold water, leaving them by the sink to be dealt with later.
with eight hungry footballers in your home that you were about to feed and entertain you were sure you could whip them into an assembly line to help you clean up later.
a lot of you not having had the chance to spend any sort of quality time together since the season had commenced you'd invited a few of the girls around for a dinner party. you'd always adored hosting and cooking for those you treasured, it was one of the main ways you showcased your love, and your team mates were always the most grateful of guests.
after all as they often said the way to someones heart, was through their stomach.
"you made me smileys?" leah grinned in disbelief as she grabbed out the tray and her crystal blue eyes lit up at the sight of the much cultivated childhood food.
"yeah, i know you don't like most of this so i wanted to make sure you'd actually get something to eat." you glanced over your shoulder with a sincere smile, not an ounce of teasing in your tone as leahs cheeks now flushed bright red at the sweet gesture.
"i'd have eaten. i always love your cooking!" she defended, quickly turning around to move them onto a plate to hide her flushed cheeks.
"that's because i only cook things that i know you eat whenever you come over lee, your palette is like my four year old niece. though even she can handle some mayo." you teased, bumping your shoulder into leahs as you appeared beside her, moving the chicken onto a serving platter with some tongs.
"oh i miss her! can we facetime her again soon?" the blonde asked hopefully and you nodded, the young girl just as much a fan of leah as leah was of her, even though she'd only briefly met her when she was in australia for the world cup it seemed to be an instant connection.
"my mum keeps asking when you're going to actually come to australia for a proper visit and not just for something football related." you chuckled with a small shake of your head, the woman forever on your case about not having met half of the people you held dear in your second home, much as you tried to remind most of them had their own lives and families scattered across the world to spend their minimal time off with.
"i'm just waiting on an invitation." the older girl smiled teasingly as you smacked her on the shoulder. "please like you don't know you'd always be welcome, i'd love to show you round properly. sometimes i swear you know me better than i know myself, plus my family already adores you and they've only technically actually met you like twice that wasn't over the phone!" the words slipped casually off your tongue and in the moment you thought nothing of it, but the thought of your family accepting her and you showing her around what she knew was your favorite place in the whole world had sent leah spiraling.
"i do apologise for the lack of ham sandwiches tonight though, tesco was all out." you grinned, nodding for her to join you as you grabbed the last of the food and headed for the table where the rest of the girls were sat and ready, leah shaking it off as she followed you out.
"you guys seriously couldn't wait?" you laughed at how most of them had already dished themselves up a plate, placing down the chicken in the middle of the table as forks clashed to grab at it. "some of us did!" steph rolled her eyes gesturing to herself and viv who indeed had empty plates.
"your loss, it is delicious!" laura grinned among a mouthful of pasta, viv sternly telling her not to talk with food in her mouth before she and steph dished up for themselves and you took your seat in between leah and beth.
"oi why's leah get her own special food!" katie realised the small mountain of smileys on leahs plate in leus of any of the other sides with a scowl.
"cause she doesn't eat most of this." you answered for her with a shrug, smiling gratefully at jen who handed you back your plate piled high with food from the other end of the table. "so she gets special treatment cause she eats like a weeun?" katie rolled her eyes and tried to snatch one, your hand reaching out to swat the irishwoman away on leahs behalf.
"smileys! i've not had those in years." beth gasped as the table errupted over leahs seemingly controversial meal, the blonde covering her food protectively as multiple hands tried to snatch at it.
"did i not cook enough food for the rest of you that you all feel the need to complain about one tiny thing?" you called out loudly over the top of them with a raised eyebrow, the complaining ceasing and immediately replaced with a shower of compliments sent your way.
"much better." you grinned, shoveling a forkful of pasta into your mouth as everyone settled, normal chatter resuming as you all enjoyed one another's company.
"thank you, you're the best." leah murmured quietly, her hand landing on your thigh and squeezing gently, pressing a grateful kiss to your cheek before turning back to her conversation with laura.
the blush coating your cheeks didn't go unnoticed by your australian teammates, both sending you a knowingly smug smile as you glared back at them from across the table, kicking caitlin harshly in the shin as she began to make kissy faces at you.
"ow, fuck you!" the older girl hissed quietly, trying to kick back at you as you tucked your legs under your chair, her feet instead finding poor beths ankle who cursed her out for it.
the rest of dinner passed through rather uneventfully, and sure enough it didn't take much convincing to have them all band together to help you clean up afterwards, the group of you now gathered in your living room piled on top of one another.
"-please don't be in love with someone else! please don't have somebody waiting on you!" you and beth belted out, twirling one another around as you sang the rest of the chorus.
all of you far too wound up after dinner for a movie you'd opted to bust out the karaoke machine some the girls had bought you for your birthday earlier this year instead.
"I was enchanted to meet youu!' you sang loudly, handing the mic to steph and collapsing basically on top of leah as beth finished off the final two lines, the blonde serenading a very rosy and loved up looking viv.
"what a natural, you're really wasting your life away as a footballer my girl." leah teasingly fanned you as you posed, head dropping onto her shoulder. "god its exhausting being hot, funny and talented." you sighed dramatically as steph and katie were next up and started to sing cruel summer.
"at least we can tick humble off the list then." leah grinned down at you as you smacked her chest halfheartedly. "hey can i stay tonight? i don't think i can be bothered driving home and i've hardly seen you this week with my rehab amping up." leah asked quietly and you nodded without a moments hesitation, moving around so your head was in her lap and your legs draped over laura who sat wedged on the other side of you avidly chattering away to jen.
"you missss me!" you sung out with a grin, wiggling happily as the blonde rolled her eyes and forced a sigh. "i mostly miss your king size bed and massive tv, don't flatter yourself." the older girl pinched at your cheeks as you pulled faces up at her.
"you missed me too though, just a little." you held up your thumb and pointer finger leaving a decent gap in between. "more like-" leah pushed them closer together so there was hardly a gap as you gasped and leah tangled a hand in your hair with a soft smile.
"you wound me lee, and after i made you smileys and invited you oh so graciously into my home!" "i have a key so really i'd just let myself in if there was no invitation, plus you always eat all the snacks at my house so consider us even." "i do not! i'd like to contest that accusation." "i, the honourable judge williamson, hear your case and find you....guilty." "wow i don't even get a lawyer?" "you don't even get a phone call kid, lock her up boys!" "i would like to once again point out that i am only exactly eleven months younger than you leah catherine." "the key word here being....younger." "you're truly insufferable sometimes you know that?" "oo that was a big word, where'd we learn that one from?" "your mum actually, when we were speaking about you." "i'd love to argue that but really i'm quite certain she likes you more than me sometimes." leah sighed with a shake of her head, covering your smug looking face with her hand and shaking your head to and fro for a second before you pushed her off with a grin and a teasing wiggle of your eyebrows. "oh speaking of she wants you to come round for dinner soon, something about missing you? i can't relate though, she's not yet been around you enough to know how positively irritating you really are." "fighting words for someone who just asked to sleepover because she missed me." "i don't remember the words 'i miss you' ever actually leaving my mouth?" "crazy, i just heard them?"
"excuse me lovebirds, we're gonna head off!" your cheeky smiles both dropped at beth's words and leah frowned as you picked your head up out of her lap and quickly shuffled away as if burnt by her touch.
most of the girls all agreeing to head off after checking the time you were yanked out of the small bubble you'd previously occupied with leah, standing up and walking most of them out, leah hugging her friends goodbye before sitting back down on the lounge.
"you not leavin?" katie frowned, lingering behind as leah looked up from her phone and shook her head. "nah gonna crash here, i'm tired." the blonde shrugged, eyebrows furrowing at the look on the irishwomans face at her word.
"what? i stay here all the time." "i know...exactly my point." "and what is your point?" leah asked the brunette with a sigh.
"why don't you just tell that poor girl you love her? the two of you do this little dance around your feelings every day and surely thats exhausting?" katie crossed her arms over her chest as leahs face flushed with embrassment.
"i don't feel that way about her. i wish you'd all drop this you're making it weird between us and its not appreciated, she's my best mate!" leah denied with a firm shake of her head, though she knew the words leaving her lips was a filthy lie, and katie did too.
"yeah leah, she's your best mate so just talk to her. whats the harm in that? i see the way you look at one another, i really don't think you'll be left disappointed." the older girl smiled sincerely, squeezing her shoulder supportively and striding out of the room.
which left leah to sink back into the sofa with a deep and troubled sigh, alone with her thoughts as she dragged her hands down her face and tossed her phone beside her, her head swimming.
unbeknownst to the defender you'd been cornered in the kitchen and given a similar talking to by your national team mates, both girls like older sisters they'd known you for years and made an avid point of stating they'd never seen you look at someone the way you looked at leah.
and similar to katie they pushed you to just talk to her about it, affirming they saw the way you both interacted and it was obvious to everyone that neither of you were being honest with one another, and over time things would eventually boil over if that continued to be the case.
though shortly after you'd waved everyone off and shut your front door for the final time, dead bolting it and flicking off the lights one by one as you made your way back to the living room.
not even needing to ask leah was already on her feet and following you to your bedroom as the rest of the house was engulfed into darkness. "oh hello gorgeous." leah breathed out as she belly flopped into your bed, sighing as the memory foam melded perfectly to her body.
rolling your eyes at her you disappeared into your wardrobe, grabbing out some of leahs clothes from your drawers, the two of you having spent so much time at one anothers homes you had clothes and belongings littered everywhere at each place.
"oi!" leah yelled out as the bundle of material hit her in the face where she lay down on your bed, peeling the hoodie off her face and sending you a look of disdain as you only grinned and dipped into the bathroom to change and wash your face, leaving her to do the same.
both of you now changed you settled into your bed where leah had already loaded the wizard of oz on the tv, the movie a favourite of both of yours making you clap happily as leah clicked play.
after around a half hour you found yourselves already tangled with one another, not an uncommon occurrence as you'd grown to be incredibly comfortable around one another over the years.
leahs head resting on your sternum the older girl was entranced by the consistent rising and falling of your chest beneath her, one hand tucked under her head as the other sat dormant on your hip, pointer finger lightly stroking the slit of tanned skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly.
your left arm had slipped up the back of her hoodie, nails scratching gently at the bare skin of her back, your right hand lay tangled in her hair which she'd pulled up into a messy bun, absentmindedly tracing circles on the back of her neck with your thumb.
as much as leah was relaxed and would normally be humming along to each song as she could hear you doing, internally she was a flustered mess, shocking herself with how still she kept her body despite how freaked out she was by her conversation with katie.
it lead her to overthink every little interaction she'd had with you, worrying if she'd ever made you uncomfortable with the small intimacies you shared almost daily.
which then just lead her to stumble blindly down the path of how she felt at all the silent ways you showed one another how much you cared.
like the way you'd lean in and fix her collar when it was crooked on nights out, or how she would always grab your boots for you when you inevitably left them behind after training or games.
how you'd hold your hair up and ask leah to put on your most prized necklace for you after you'd had to take it off for a game, or the way you'd mess about with her fingers and twist her rings sometimes when she knew you were overwhelmed.
or how leah knew you would always underestimate how suddenly british weather could change, never bringing a jacket when you needed to so she made sure to always drape hers over you instead.
or how occasionally you'd demand leah stay still as you ever so gently collected a stray eyelash off her cheek, holding it out on your pinky and ordering her to make a wish before you'd blow it away with a soft smile.
so caught up in her thoughts leah hadn't even realised the movie had finished, only yanked back down into reality as you nudged her and called out her name. "you okay?" you asked her with a concerned frown, noticing she was clearly out of it as leah wordlessly nodded.
pulling her head off your chest you quickly withdrew your hands from her body, shuffling backwards a little as the two of you settled in your new positions, laid on your sides and looking right at one another.
"have i got something on my face?" you teased quietly at her staring, leahs lips curling into a smile. "no its ugly as ever don't worry." the blonde quipped with a smirk, flicking at your ear as you gasped and kicked her.
which suddenly jolted the pair of you from your previously calm and settled state, leahs cold hands tickling at your sides as your laughter echoed around the room making her grin. yanking them away you pinched at her hips, the two of you smacking and slapping one another around giggling manically like naughty kids, hushing one another as if worried you might be caught out and told off at a moments notice.
"no!" you grunted out with a laugh as leah tried to sit on top of you, her slender fingers digging into your ribs mercilessly with an evil smile. wiggling your body furiously beneath her you shoved her off, quickly straddling her hips right as the blondes back hit the mattress.
attempting to pin her hands down was a pointless task as the stronger girl interlinked your fingers and pressed your hands together, trying to throw you off of her as her knee pushed into your side, causing you to collapse back into the bed with a loud pelt of laughter.
both of you now struggling to breathe among your giggles you called a truce, chests heaving and faces flushed bright red from the rumble, leahs head turning to admire your side profile momentarily.
feeling her gaze on your cheek your eyes flickered sideways, meeting her curious look as your laughter slowly ceased and you found yourself lost in one anothers wondering orbs.
for once her mind finally quiet leah ever so slowly began to lean in, her eyes flittering between you and your lips.
your heart hammering in your chest you made no move to stop her as the two of you edged closer and closer into one anothers personal space.
your lips now just milimetres from one another you turned your head ever so slighty, your nose brushing against leahs as the blondes tongue ran across her lips somewhat apprehensively, eyes seeking out any sort of green light from you before she made her next move.
before you could withdraw your mind from its scattered places leahs arms were around you, her hold familiar and comforting. though at the close proximity of your nervous bodies you felt again the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of worry that what happened next could make or break the two of you.
"can i kiss you?" "please."
consent gained leah closed the tiny gap between you, rosy pink lips soft and alluring as they pressed against your own. leahs head spun at the dizzying sensation of her mouth molding perfectly with yours, ravishing in the feeling of kissing you.
her hand moved to rest on your cheek, palm rough and callous but her touch tender as you lent into it, tilting your head slightly as leahs breath caught at the new angle.
her tongue traced along your bottom lip, dipping in the small cracks and grooves, your lips slightly chapped but still so plump and inviting as they moved in rhythm against her own.
her insistent mouth was parting your shaking lips, sending wild tremors along the tips of your nerves, evoking from you sensations you had never known to be capable of feeling from the simple action as her tongue swirled around your mouth sending you into a silent frenzy.
you'd kissed people before obviously, but never ever had one plunged you into such a swimming giddiness that spun your head round and round, almost drowned in the overwhelming pleasure of the small but intimate act with someone you trusted so dearly.
then suddenly, lungs screaming and vision foggy you both surfaced for air, lips parting from one another with a slight pop as your chests heaved and your eyes scanned one another features for the first sign of any kind of reaction.
"we should talk about that." you were the first to speak, voice cracking slightly as leahs eyes dropped back down to your lips which seemed to be calling to her like a siren from the very moment they departed her own.
"yeah...we should."
though it seemed that was all that needed to be said as now much more feverishly your lips smashed into one anothers, your hands tangling in leahs hair as hers traced down the curvature of your back, drawing your body closer into her own as your bare legs tangled, kicking down the sheets exposing your bodies more to the chill of the brisk autumn evening.
and it seemed that without really needing to talk about it, the two of you had finally unlocked what would become the much more apparent act of intimacy between the two of you.
that wasn't to say future conversations wouldn't happen, but right now as your bodies began to greet one another in an entirely new fashion you'd both got the confirmation you'd been struggling for oh so desperately that the internal battle wasn't one sided.
and one day you'd lay down together and laugh that all it took was some stupid smiley face potatoes.
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
Text
(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)
...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.
She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.
Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.
The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.
Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.
He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.
He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.
But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.
And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.
His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.
Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.
Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.
"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.
"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more
Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"
Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.
On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.
And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.
Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.
Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?
She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.
Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."
She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?
Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."
"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."
Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."
The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.
She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.
But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.
"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.
Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."
Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.
(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)
"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."
"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."
"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"
Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."
Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."
It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.
"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.
Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.
She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.
"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."
(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)
(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)
Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.
Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."
With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#sam is one protective gal. this scene went differently in my head. way differently. but alas. i am not complaining.#sam: if bruce wayne abandoned my best friend i'm gonna physically transform myself into a dragon and incinerate him. how dare he.#bruce and damian got to watch in real time as a random girl who knows danny suddenly realizes he's related to them. which is comical to me#because she suddenly goes from being disinterested but weirded out by damian. to suddenly looking at bruce like she's gonna kill him#which is very funny to me bc from their pov at first its like this random girl just speedran hating bruce. and then her parents bring up he#friend danny and then she calls him danyal. and suddenly its starting to click into place like 'oh fuck wait we may just have a lead on --#-- finding danyal and his whereabouts.' especially after sam's mom mentions the scar on his face. like wow. what a crazy ten minutes.#not seen but def happened: sam gets her phone out to go text danny in the corner. she's not gonna bring up the bruce thing yet. she needs#a pick me up. related note: danny and tucker know she's gone to some gala thing with her parents but not to a wayne gala. if danny had know#he may have told her that he was related to damian wayne. just to prepare her for that. not so sure on the writing in this one folks#but i also dont wanna go through and edit anything its like half past one in the morning and i also dont wanna wait until morning to post#when i can just do it now. and get instant serotonin. i thought of this scene in various ways. like sam calling damian 'danny' out of shock#and then quickly correcting herself. and then excusing herself very quickly. or her mentioning that damian resembles her friend danny a lot#so she was just thrown off by him. because i def think that could happen if sam has no reason to think that she needs to hide danny from th#waynes. i also thought about her parents mentioning that damian resembles danny a little bit. only for one of them to go 'oh no no couldn't#- be. how insulting to damian since the daniel they know has this horrid scar on his face.' and then go from there. either way i thought#a scene like this would be fun. get to also kinda explore how danny looks like from his friends' povs. of which he is#'our lovable jerk who is an ex-cult member and whom we will maim someone over.'#not a scene that was added but i wanted to: sam mentioning in parenthesis that she and tucker think danny was part of a cult prior to the#fentons. and that sometimes danny will say something alarming and sam and tucker will stare at him until he frowns and goes#“that... isn't normal. is it?” and tucker will clap his shoulder and cheerfully go “no buddy. no it isn't” bc i think the idea is funny.#sam is so focused on the idea that bruce abandoned/ignored/was unaware of danny's existence that she momentarily forgot that bruce may have
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astonmartinii · 8 months
Text
loving on a sunday | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x reader
y/n and lando, the grid and an honest attempt at a sunday roast
masterlist if you want to leave a tip x
yourusername
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yourusername: warning !! do not own a nice country house and farm because you will get lumped with the annual post season grid dinner, SEB PLEASE COME BACK I CAN"T TAKE THIS RESPONSIBILITY @landonorris what are you going to do when they find out you can't cook?
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user1: learning that lando can't cook is the least surprising thing in the entire world
user2: i'm sorry post season grid dinner? brb just going to cry my eyes out why haven't we heard of this before
user3: for my mental health i need photographic evidence asap
landonorris: way to bait me out in front of the whole world, thanks babe
yourusername: i'm sorry but if this crashes and burns i need people to know that it was your fault (because it defo would be)
landonorris: where is the faith? you back me to win every race but won't back me to make some roast potatoes :(
yourusername: babe when i was sick you burnt the soup so bad we had to throw the pan out
landonorris: I TRIED I WAS STRESSED YOU WERE SICK
yourusername: awwww babe, but it was le crueset and literally cost more than my life
sebastianvettel: it's been an honour to host it but i know you and lando will do great, send me all the photos !
yourusername: thank you seb, please come visit the farm at some point xx
landonorris: see i knew seb would have faith in me thanks mate
user4: lando's gf being a farm girl makes so much sense but also no sense what so ever
yourusername: tis the south west babe it's either banksy or farmers and nothing in between
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landonorris
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liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername and 1,023,677 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: should be peeling potatoes right now she's too pretty
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user10: oh to be a kitty cat being cuddled by y/n
yourusername: you're such a smooth talker babe but those potatoes won't peel themselves
landonorris: my years of being teammates with carlos has come in clutch
yourusername: you still suck at flirting i just love you so i still swoon, any other person would probably laugh in your face
landonorris: gonna ignore the insult and focus on the fact that you love me
user11: i swear every time i see y/n she's with another animal i've never seen before
yourusername: my farm is a safe haven for any animal, if they find themselves there they'll leave with a full tummy and a good load of cuddles
maxverstappen1: if lando is on potato duty does this mean we won't get them? they're my favourite part of a roast y/n PLEASE STEP IN
landonorris: oh wow i see how it is
maxverstappen1: i'm dutch i'm so serious about my potatoes
landonorris: i also don't fuck around about roast potatoes HAVE FAITH
user12: can we start a petition for lando to stream this? like at least the cooking portion
yourusername: watching my nervous breakdown live would not be ethical
landonorris: it's true she threw a carrot at my head the first time she cooked for my family
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, estebanocon and 590,455 others
tagged: yourusername, landonorris
oscarpiastri: officially a farm boy for the week (also known as third wheeling for seven days)
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user15: omg oscar went early? my mclaren heart is so full
yourusername: so so happy to have you here osc!! though you're not any more trustworthy in the kitchen
oscarpiastri: i'd defend myself but we've all seen me fail to boil an egg
yourusername: you tried your best !! but you've mastered the english tea which is a massive asset
oscarpiastri: i think i'd lose my seat if i couldn't make a cup of tea
user16: obsessed with y/n dragging everyone for being menaces in the kitchen
user17: love how oscar was like: post lando? no. post ducks? yes.
landonorris: mate you asked to come early don't complain about third wheeling now
oscarpiastri: i know i asked to come early but if y'all could lay off the soft porn for two seconds would be appreciated
landonorris: don't pretend you don't enjoy it mate ;)
yourusername: lando don't be mean :(
landonorris: i'm sorry oscar, i'm sure you don't enjoy watching us be happy
oscarpiastri: thanks i guess?
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc: sad to announce i've been banned from the kitchen:( even banned from making drinks as well
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user18: this is defo the banning i agree with, we all saw the vlog with the pesto pasta
user19: tbf i've come to the conclusion the one person y/n would let into the kitchen is seb
yourusername: you're not wrong
user20: i need a chick in my dungarees right now
yourusername: why are you complaining about a free pass to sit on the couch and have someone else cook for you?
charles_leclerc: well when you put it like that ....
landonorris: let me revoke all of my previous complaints
yourusername: you know i like to treat you baby
charles_leclerc: why thank you y/n but that's an inappropriate thing to say while in a relationship
yourusername: it was in reply to lando's comment charles 😭
landonorris: guy forgot he could read for a second
charles_leclerc: MY BAD
user21: i know charles didn't come to a farm in all white
yourusername: i regret to inform you he did (it's all designer as well)
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yourusername
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yourusername: sunday roasts are my love language, so happy to host the grid dinner with the love of my life
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user23: at first i thought she was being a bit too serious about this but that roast looks like it BANGS
user24: legit i need one asap
georgerussell63: carmen wants the recipe please and thank you
yourusername: bring her to the farm next time we're free and i'll teach her in person
carmenmundt: thank you darling
yourusername: anything for you
landonorris: ummm what about the guy you called the love of your life in the caption?
yourusername: i love you but i've tried to teach you to cook way too many times
user25: i'm sorry lando is so sexy
user26: forget lando, every pic i've seen of this house is the sexiest thing in the world
carlossainz55: thank you for hosting y/n and lando!! i had a great time see you on new years
yourusername: no worries chilli
maxverstappen1: the roast was the best thing i've ever eaten, i'll only dock points because i had to top and tail with daniel
yourusername: i didn't see you complain when i walked in on you guys cuddling
danielricciardo: you told me you loved it :(
maxverstappen1: i did !!! i enjoyed all of it, especially the roast though
landonorris: second to a roast @danielricciardo that's tough
landonorris
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landonorris: so honoured to host the grid dinner and take over from such an inspiration in seb!! but mostly thanks to y/n for hosting at her farm and putting together an amazing dinner and weekend - also thanks for not killing the grid, i defo would have
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user27: i would've given a kidney to be there for real
lewishamilton: thank you for having us and for the sick nut roast
yourusername: we love you and roscoe !! and vegans are always welcome on my farm
user28: ROSCOE WENT?
yukitsunoda0511: thank you y/n i no longer think that english food is an abomination
yourusername: wow thank you yuki, i knew it would be hard when your only exposure was ... milton keynes
landonorris: wow my girlfriend is a miracle worker, and you're welcome yuki san we loved having you
user29: watching lando go from rookie to hosting the grid dinner, i'm soft
oscarpiastri: i love it here i'm sorry you're not getting rid of me
yourusername: no worries osc, you can stay as long as you want
landonorris: no complaining about third wheeling though, you're basically our child now
user30: experienced racer and rookie teammate friendships are so special to ME
danielricciardo: glad i managed to get my seat back just for this roast tbf
landonorris: not cause you missed me?
danielricciardo: eh i guess so
yourusername: just let me know when you're in england and you can come over for another
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
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Hey hey!! I hope you're doing well! I was wondering if you could do a fic based on the song "Kisses Of Fire" by Abba just like the reader in total love-sick bliss and knowing like Luke is the man he's him lolol
𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈ℯ𝓈 ℴ𝒻 𝒻𝒾𝓇ℯ
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
A/n- I adore you for this anon. I love abba
Warnings- brief make out sessions, puppy love, foreshadowing his betrayal, pre!tlt Luke, their loves bordering on obsession but they genuinely still love each other if that makes sense
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Lay your head on my chest so you hear every beat of my heart, now there’s nothing that can keep us apart
He held you closely, your head laying on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat. You both were sprawled out on the small, creaky bed, you both entwined.
You had a hand running through his curls as he stared up, his mind at ease for once in his chaotic life. You stared at him with the most adoration and love anyone could ever feel. A soft smile across your face.
He wanted to stay like this forever, he wanted to be buried like this.
Touch my lips, close your eyes and see with your fingertips
Your first kiss with Luke was like a dream. An awkward, but amazing dream.
It was quiet, nothing could be heard but the waves crashing against the cliffs next to you both. You laid staring at the night sky with him, and that moment felt more intimate than any other.
You both were staring at the same sky, the same stars and the same moon. Fate written in it, your names tangled in it.
He glanced at you and you glanced back, glancing turned into staring. Staring turned into his softly grabbing your face, whispering sweet nothings, telling you how he’s loved you for a while now, his whole life really.
You lean in, capturing your lips in his. Heads tilted and eyes closed, you leaned into his touch, his lips soft with strawberry lip balm from earlier.
Things that you do, and you know I'm crazy 'bout you
Your obsession with Luke got worse when you started dating him. You were friends before, of course you knew a lot about him. But you learned about him even more after, his secrets, his goals, his life, his dreams, his trauma and past.
You loved every single thing he did. The way he was with new, younger campers and the way he handled a sword.
Everyone around camp could tell you were infatuated, even crazy in love with him. And he loved that, he loved you.
Kisses of fire, burning, burning. I'm at the point of no returning
You sat on his bed, you were on his lap as you held his face in your hands, his hands on your waist.
He loved the taste of your lips, he let out a low moan as you slid your tongue into his mouth. He began to pay you down onto the bed, your back against it. A knock at the door interrupted the both of you. He just left your lips and looked at the door, it was Chris.
“Hey, what’s up?” Luke nodded, not bothering to get off of you.
Chris snickered, eyes going to you and back to Luke, he shut the cabin door behind him. “Just tryna get some sleep. Carry on. Don’t let me bother you.” He went to his bed, directly on top of Luke’s, a smirk on his face.
You looked back at Luke who just shrugged, and his lips were back on yours quickly, as he laid on top of you now, body on yours.
You wanted to never turn back, you wanted to stay with him.
Kisses of fire, sweet devotions. Caught in a landslide of emotions
His kisses were full of love, passion, they were intense.
His kisses were a show of love to you, his loyalty. He took it as a special thing.
You felt the happiest with him. When you were simply around him, or when you were kissing him. You felt overwhelmed by your own love and emotions when you kissed him. You felt fear of losing him.
I've had my share of love affairs and they were nothing compared to this.
You’ve been heartbroken by many, and the first person you went to was Luke. Every single time.
When you were growing up, 13 and your first boyfriend had broken up with you, Luke was there for you. He tried to comfort you to the best of his abilities.
Even when you were 18, going through the roughest break up. He thought you were the most gorgeous person in the world, he couldn’t comprehend why anyone would break up with you.
That’s when you got with him, when you realized you didn’t want to get with anyone else, you always had wanted him.
Every time he wished that you would realize it, that you would break up for those stupid guys for him.
And you were only happy when you were with him, the best you’ve ever been. Others noticed it too. You could love him in public, you could do things with him that your other boyfriends wouldn’t have even thought of doing with you.
He was better, in every situation, than your ex boyfriends.
Oh, I'm riding higher than the sky and there is fire in every kiss. Kisses of fire
Every kiss has fueled the fire in your heart, your love for him growing every time.
It was passion, a fiery and intense passion and love for you. He knew that, the thought of it scared him.
When you sleep by my side I feel safe and I know I belong. Still it's making me scared that my love is so strong.
His chest moving up and down, an arm wrapped around you tightly. Your hands tangled in his curls and the other on his body.
With his arms wrapped around you, you felt like nothing could hurt you. Not a Minotaur or echidna, no monster could come close. You belonged in his arms, with him, you thought as you stared at him. Even sleeping, he looked gorgeous.
You felt this anxiety at the bottom of your stomach. It creeps up. You’ve felt this before, it was fear.
You were terrified at the thought of losing him. You loved him, strongly, more than anything else.
It scared you, the thought of him betraying you or hurting you was always in the back of your mind. He could break your heart, give you broken heart syndrome, leave you to die alone.
Losing you It's a nightmare, babe, and to me it's new. Never before did you see me begging for more.
You never wanted to lose him. That you were sure of. You’ve never felt this intensely about a boy, it was strange, a foreign feeling.
Love was a foreign feeling. You’ve had boyfriends sure, but have you ever been in love with them as intensely? No.
You would do anything if it meant to keep him with you, in life or death, you would be with him.
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pseudowho · 5 months
Text
Infiltration, Chapter One: Introduction
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Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.
A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.
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Kento waited in Yaga's office, pacing, restless. He hadn't wanted you invited into Jujutsu High under these circumstances, knowing you needed time after your trauma, but he couldn't deny that his heart was pounding in anticipation. He had only approved of you being called because the mission you had, if you chose to accept it, would be shared. Together. With him.
He heard three short taps on the door and his heart leapt into his throat, feeling your cursed energy approach. He contained himself, outwardly unaffected, and walked to the door to let you in.
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You were overwhelmingly anxious before even entering the school grounds. You would visit your best friend's grave today, for the first time since losing her, and you would see...him. The man who was...what, to you? Your other best friend? Your confidante? The man composed of the same formula from which your own soul was made? Or just your lunch buddy? You didn't know. Whatever had been blooming between you had surely died in your absence.
Your numb feet had carried you across the frosted grass, under Torii gates and past effigies, down a short winding staircase to where graves-- too many graves -- nestled under the shadows of the trees' bare branches. Winding past the long sleep of names known and unknown, your hand brushed lovingly over Yuu Haibara's headstone, the tears already starting to blur your vision as you stopped in front of the grave of your own best friend. Just three months old, frost decorated the white stone like diamonds, and you sat heavily in front of it, knees drawn up and arms holding them to yourself as you wept bitterly into your jeans. You had promised to hold yourself together, to make a proper apology for failing to save her, but you poured garbled nonsense between your sobs, stroking the headstone as if it were her hand in yours.
Enough, you told yourself after ten minutes had passed, she deserved better and she still deserves better, so sort yourself out. Rising up, the back of your jeans damp and muddy, you proceeded to tend to the grave, cleaning and polishing, replacing flowers and leaving a small bottle of her favourite drink. In silence, you walked away, another brush of your hand bidding Haibara goodbye, and made your way up the many steps, to Principal Yaga's office.
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Kento opened the office door, and immediately met your eyes. Thousands of unspoken words passed between you both; Kento hesitated only briefly before stepping aside in invitation, and, upon closing the door, gently pressed a cup of tea into your hands. You had been crying, and smelled faintly of the cold forest floor, and you were the most beautiful thing Kento had ever seen. He had never had the chance to hold you, but now was not the time or place-- if he pulled you to him now, he ran the risk of never letting you go.
"How...how are you...Kento?" you asked weakly. Your words seemed flat and small, so utterly unlike you. Kento's heart creaked, a child's footsteps on old floorboards, and he ached to tell you how little his own wellbeing mattered to him now.
Kento sighed, gripping the back of a chair and leaning forwards. Your eyes drank in his thick, corded forearms, the way his navy shirt stretched over his back, the lick of fringe that hopped forwards over his forehead. God, I've missed you so much. The words turned to a cold drink as they slipped off your tongue and down into your stomach.
"I'm...better than you are, I'm sure. I'm sorry Yaga is asking for you back like this, you deserved more time. I don't know what they want from us. But I know it's together and some distance away. If you have any reservations, please speak up. I won't let them take advantage of you."
You sighed into your steaming mug, the vapour clouding your glasses for a moment-- Kento's heart thumped fondly-- and answered him.
"I feel like...if I'm not dragged back, I won't come back. And I know what you're going to say--" you raised your hand to Kento in a soothing gesture as he stood, ready to argue your case even against yourself, "-- but I want to be back. I miss the students. I miss the camaraderie. I miss...god, I even miss Gojo, idiot though he is. And if anyone in this place understands what I've been through, it's you."
A flash of pain crossed Kento's face, haunted by the memories of his dead friend, and you stepped to him, hand instantly placed over his harsh grip on the chair. You felt the tendons of his hands soften under yours.
"So I'll hear him out," you continued gently, "because I owe it to her, to all of you, and to myself to try this again."
Kento nodded, folding just one digit over the back of your palm to swipe against it in wordless communication. You blushed lightly, pleased he was looking at the floor. Hearing the click of the door behind you, you stepped apart from each other, caught in shared vulnerability. Yaga greeted you both, and the meeting began.
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Seven short days later, you stepped down from your front door, locking up with a shaky outward breath. Turning to Kento, waiting for you by his car, he returned your hesitant smile with one of genuine warmth, brown eyes twinkling with affection.
"It suits you," he teased, putting your suitcase into the car as you twiddled your new ring nervously. You punched the top of his arm playfully.
"I could say the same to you...darling." Kento buried his head in the car, pretending to organise the suitcases as he blushed, alarmed by how natural a wedding ring already felt on his hand. Stepping back, he looked down at you, stern and unamused, but opening your door for you nonetheless. His heart soared at the first natural smile he had seen from you in months. Closing your door, he stepped to his own, feeling teenagerishly proud to have you in his passenger seat.
"Let's go over things just once more on the way?" You asked him. Kento hummed affirmingly, turning the heating on, and gently clasping your hands in his own against the air vents.
"Warm up," he ordered as the car rumbled to life. Bringing one arm up around the back of your seat, your breath caught in your chest as he turned backwards, thin eyebrows raised and one arm outstretched on the wheel as he made the car glide backwards out of the driveway. A waft of his cologne, familiar and woody, hit your nose as he passed his arm back, his fingertips (accidentally?) grazing your shoulder, and he began to drive.
"So," you started, trying not to stutter, "we are the...Tsuda family." Kento hummed his affirmation again. "Mr and Mrs." A short cough, and another hum. "Married for two years, but together..."
"Forever, basically," Kento interjected quickly-- too quickly, he cursed himself-- before clearing his throat and continuing, "All I mean is...it has only ever been me and you. Us. Easier than...messy exes." His ears crept with crimson as your laughter twinkled through his car.
How the fuck am I going to get through this without completely giving myself away? Kento felt utterly tortured, trapped between the divinity of your company and the agony of not knowing it more intimately.
You talked for hours, barely needing to fill each other in on the details of your lives-- you had had so many late lunches, so many late-night post-mission calls-- and instead focused on the upcoming plans.
"So, our informants are certain this cult is at the centre of a significant increase in skilled and armed curse-users, but they only seem to accept married couples as new members, both of whom should display significant jujutsu sorcery skills or the potential to do so," Kento mused, "which I have a theory for."
"Breeding," you both said, shooting each other a sideways glance and blush. Kento cleared his throat.
"Quite. It's certainly one way to grow your cult's power."
"It's eugenics in the making," you spat, "I'm sure Suguru Geto approves."
A rumble which went straight to your core came from Kento's chest, and he spoke, "Or, we end up with a Curse-user turf war. Either way, they've already been responsible for dozens of deaths and disappearances. We take them out."
Eyeing Kento admiringly, you didn't fancy the curse-users' chances against him. Your own ability, to compel the thoughts or desires of others, had some application in combat, but largely lent itself to support and reconnaissance. The cursed-energy tumbling off the giant beside you was in no way second to his commanding physique or quick mind. Unaware, you unashamedly stared at Kento, eyes taking in his thick thighs, tan trousers stretched enticingly over them and the subtle bulge between his legs, and up to his cheekbones, razor sharp and framing such a handsome face--
Before you could murmur your agreement, you caught yourself, turning swiftly to look out the window, blush creeping across your cheeks.
Unbeknownst to you, Kento stole glances while he drove, taking you in...the gentle curve of your breasts into your waist, the bow of your lips, bright eyes behind curtained lashes. He swallowed, bidding his blood to rush elsewhere. He focused on the road.
"Regardless...we've been accepted, pending Face-to-Face interview. Ijichi and the team built our false profiles, all we have to do is prove our cursed techniques, and we're part of the cult."
"I'm delighted," you chirped, "what a lovely anniversary gift, my love."
"Only the best for my girl," Kento rumbled, playing along. Neither of you knew how delighted the other was by the charade.
But, while you felt completely safe, reassured by Kento's presence, Kento felt that his heart had been removed from his chest, and walked away from him, directly into battle. He did not have his blade, too much of a giveaway, and instead planned to imbue his energy into his fists. You, however, had to rely purely on your wiles and intellect to survive. Kento knew he would punch a hole through a god to keep you safe.
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Ornate compound gates surrounded a beautiful traditional Japanese village, nestled between mountain ranges and clear rivers. As Kento crawled the car skillfully around peaks and narrow roads, you felt trepidation sink into you as, on approaching the entrance, you felt the thrum of Cursed energy seep, cold and unwelcome, into your belly.
Kento pulled up to vast gates, taking a deep, calm breath and pressing the intercom; a tinny buzz, a click, and--
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Tsuda Kento. I'm here with my wife," Kento lied smoothly. Silence.
"Come in," said the voice, accompanied by the heavy creak of the automatic gates swinging open. Kento's chin dipped, clench-jawed and staring intently ahead as he pulled forwards into an expansive driveway of pale grey gravel, a temple lying quiet and still in the distance.
Now afraid, suddenly full of doubt, you grasped at the potential consequences of your decision to return to Jujutsu High. You felt Kento's hand reach for yours, anchoring you. You turned to him, eyes full of fear.
"I won't let anything happen to you. I promise you this. I'd die to get you out alive." You squeezed Kento's hand between your own, warm and strong, unable to tell him that the loss of him would drive you past the edge of despair.
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Chapter 2: Pillow talk link HERE!
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starsandhughes · 3 months
Text
I Know Places
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inspired by i know places by taylor swift <3
pairing: quinn hughes x tkachuk! reader
word count: 2.4k
warnings: drinking, use of y/n, mentions of throwing up (not actually done), fade to black smut
MASTERLIST
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Maybe it wasn't the best idea you've ever had, but it wasn't like you planned this! You didn't plan to fall for one of your brother's best friends, someone that was a groomsman at his wedding, it just happened.
You and Quinn kept sharing looks during the start of the wedding reception. It was a dangerous game and you both knew it. Quinn and Brady were best friends, and both of your families were friends— you were terrified that too much was at risk with this relationship.
There wasn't a fear that your families wouldn't be happy about the relationship, because there was no doubt in your mind that everyone would be thrilled, it was the fear that your relationship would no longer be just yours.
It would be theirs, too. It would belong to your parents, Quinn's parents, Brady, Matthew, Taryn, Jack, Luke, and eventually all of the fans.
Your relationship would be under the scrutiny of the public eye. You'd be subjected to hate from Quinn's "fans," and probably your brothers's as well. You knew that some girls online tended to take every single blink as a chance to over analyze a relationship from a player they obsess over. Many fans were supportive of the various WAGS, but there were a few that would be sobbing over the fact that Quinn is taken. These fans are the hunters, and you're a fox trying not to be caged.
Your relationship was fairly new, only a couple weeks old, and it started back when the Devils were still in the playoffs. There was a gap between one of Matthew's games and one of Jack and Luke's, so you hopped on a plane to go see one of them before Quinn got his wisdom teeth out. Quinn drove you back to your hotel at the end of the night and well... things spiraled from there.
Love was fragile. It could burn out. And in your experience, especially new love.
The more alcohol that you put into your system, the less careful you and Quinn were being. There were cameras everywhere, but it slipped your mind for just a moment. You two had been friends for a long time and an innocent touch surely wouldn't be enough for everyone's heads to turn, so you let it happen.
Quinn stood behind you with his hands on your waistline as you moved your hips to the music. You knew they were his hands before you even turned around, you were familiar with his touch at this point. It wasn't until you heard Luke whisper to Jack, "look!" that you had any concern.
"Let go, Quinn," you whispered to him. "Luke is looking suspicious."
"So let him," Quinn whispered back.
"Quinn," you groaned.
Quinn obliged to your concerns and took his hands off of you. He extended his hand towards you instead and lifted it up when you took it, a subtle motion signaling you to spin under his arm. You laughed as he did this, and to play it off like you were just two friends dancing, he called out to Luke to catch you as he spun you outward.
You fell into Luke laughing before you turned back to face Luke and threw your arms around his neck to dance to the beat with him.
"What was that about?" Luke asked you. You internally panicked, but outwardly remained calm.
"What was what about?" you laughed it off.
"Quinn's hands on you," Luke said, as if it were obvious. In his defense... it was.
"We were just dancing, Luke. I've known him forever! I've known you forever and now we're dancing! Is there something wrong with that?" you turned it all on him.
"No, no, nothing wrong with that," he said calmly. He was too smart for his own good and you knew it, but he was also respectful enough to not call you on your bluff.
Luckily, keeping an eye on you was the last thing on Brady and Matthew's minds with everything that's going on around them. As the night went on, Jack was getting drunker and Luke was on Jack duty, so Quinn's brothers were finally less of a problem.
All you wanted was to be with Quinn. If you two were further along in your relationship and unworried about your families, you two would be attached at the hip and having a good time. But everyone in your family was around. Grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles. Everyone. Hell, even Josh kept eyeing you and Quinn. But the wine running through your veins was making you crave Quinn's touch even more.
All the happy couples surrounding you certainly weren't helping. Every kiss you caught a glimpse of made you think of Quinn's lips. His soft lips. You felt your face begin to heat up as your mind wandered too deep into memories of your last time with Quinn.
"I know that look," Quinn said as he walked up to stand beside you.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you feigned innocence. Your thoughts were nowhere near innocent.
Quinn stepped in front of you, dangerously close, "Yeah, you do. You've got that look on your face that you have while we're..." He leaned in close to whisper the rest of his sentence in your ear, "...alone."
You closed your eyes and gulped. He has you in the palm of his hand, and right now was not the best time to be feeling such things.
Quinn's hands found your hips and pulled you closer to be pressed up against him, "I don't think anyone's watching."
"Quinn..."
"Just one kiss," he proposed. "To get it out of our system."
You looked around and discovered that your boyfriend was right. Everyone was too wrapped up with the party to pay any mind to you two. You gave into him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him softly.
Quinn brought a hand up to your cheek and cupped your face when you pulled away, "I love how red you get every time I kiss you."
Then it happened.
A flash. A camera flash to be exact.
You began to panic. Once Brady and Emma get all the wedding photos, your secret would be out. There was no chance that you could play off whatever the camera caught as something just between friends!
"Shit!" you said, a little too loudly.
Your big brother was more keen to you than you thought, because you saw Matthew spin around in search of you. Those stupid protective tendencies never shut off for him. He was the oldest. He felt responsible for his siblings. His protectiveness is normally your saving grace, but it was your number one enemy right now.
"I know a place where we won't be found," Quinn hurried out. You grabbed his hand, "Let's go."
You two dashed out of the reception hall, not too fast as to make a scene, but you weren't moving slowly.
You two were practically sprinting through the hotel towards the elevators once you escaped the reception hall.
"Quinn, your hotel room would be too obvious!"
"That's why we're going to Matthew's," he said as if it was obvious.
"What?!"
"He gave me his key to watch because he tends to lose things," Quinn explained. "Your brother's hotel room is the last place people would think to look. I don't even think Matthew knows which room he's in."
Quinn had a point. You were pretty sure if anyone actually saw anything it would be Matty, and his own hotel room was not going to be his first idea of places to look. You immediately pulled Quinn closer to you the second he got the door open. You kissed him hungrily as you walked backwards, only parting when he gently laid you down on the couch.
Quinn climbed on top of you and started to kiss you again. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his hands gripped your hips, wrinkling your bridesmaids dress between his fingers. You moaned into his mouth when he bit your lip, which only made him bite harder before he tugged and pulled away. He then trailed his lips across your jaw and down your neck. You gasped and gripped your hands onto the ends of his hair, feeling the oxytocin flood through your body now that you finally get to feel his touch.
His left hand found its way under your dress. He traveled up your thigh slowly, making you shudder. His fingers lightly grazed across your silk panties, teasing you as he snapped the top edge against your skin.
"Please," you whimpered. It's been so long since he was last able to touch you— really touch you. Long distance is hard, but a secret long distance relationship? It's hell. "I need you."
"We don't plan on going back down to the party, do we?" Quinn asked you low. You hummed a no, pursing your lips as you tried to keep it together. "Good," he smirked.
Your heartbeat quickened when he reached up a hand to caress your cheek, something he does when he wants you to look at him. You opened your eyes to stare into his greens, completely mesmerized by the hold this man has on you. Just with one touch he can get you to do what he wants and he knows it.
"I want you to beg," he instructed. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows expectantly, and did so subtly.
"Please," you whined.
Quinn tutted in disapproval. He wanted more than that from you. He leaned down close to your ear as he slid his hand up your body to your tit and softly squeezed, "I'm going to need more than that, baby."
"Please, fuck me," you said with more urgency. He was driving you insane.
"Please, fuck me, what?" he smirked.
"Please, fuck me, Daddy."
Quinn gave you a sly smile, "Well... since you asked so nicely.”
– – –
Your naked frame laid atop of Quinn’s, your head against his chest, as the two of you fought to catch your breath. If you were home, at either of your homes, the notion of having to get up and get dressed wouldn’t even have even crossed your minds. And if it did, you would’ve laughed it off. You don’t get that luxury when you decide to sneak off during your brother’s wedding to your other brother’s hotel room.
“Q–”
“Don’t,” Quinn cut you off. He brought a hand up and ran it up and down through your hair, “Not yet. We have time.”
“How do you know?” you whispered.
“Because the world can’t be that cruel to me,” he mumbled, holding you tighter.
Turns out, the world could be that cruel to him. To both of you. Because the loud and rowdy voices of Matthew, Jack, and Luke were coming closer and closer.
You practically dived off of Quinn and started to put your dress back on. Quinn was frantically looking for his jacket before giving up entirely and going without it.
“Act drunk!” Quinn whisper shouted at you.
“What?!”
“Act drunk! Go sit by the toilet and act like you’ve been throwing up!”
You finally caught on to what Quinn was saying. There was no way you two could escape out of Matthew’s hotel room, but you could act like you intended to be in here. Quinn grabbed a hand towel and got it wet. He rubbed it across your face so it seemed like he had cleaned your face off post you throwing up. You then threw open the toilet lid and flushed it, hoping that the boys were close enough to have heard it. Quinn sat down on the bathroom floor with his back against the wall and his legs straight out, and you curled up into a ball and laid your head on his thigh. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you were pretty inebriated, so forcing yourself to cry like you normally do post throwing up wasn’t that hard.
You guess they went to the front desk to get another key to Matthew’s room, because instead of a knock, you heard the door click open. Matthew immediately heard your sniffles and rushed into the bathroom, “What’s wrong?!”
“Y/N got super drunk, and your room was closer than mine, sorry,” Quinn said softly, rubbing your back up and down.
“I didn’t see her drinking a lot,” Luke said suspiciously.
“She can be a lightweight if she doesn’t eat enough,” Matthew said, completely oblivious to what Luke was insinuating. He was crouched down on the ground trying to tend to you. He looked at Quinn, “I got her.”
Quinn helped move you into a position where Matthew could pick you up and carry you to the bed.
“I don’t feel good, Matty,” you fake cried.
“I know, Y/N/N,” Matthew shushed you. “I’m here, it’s okay.”
Matthew told Quinn to unmake the bed so that he could put you in it. Matthew gently laid you down and Quinn covered you up. Matthew left to get you some water and Advil and told Quinn to watch you.
“Next time, I’m picking the place,” you mouthed. Quinn silently chuckled and sent you a wink before leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“You got this?” Jack asked his brother.
“I had it before you got here, so…” Quinn trailed off.
“Alright, alright,” Jack said. “No need for sass!”
Jack left, but before Luke followed him, he stopped to look at you and Quinn. He looked out the door and when Jack was far enough away, he spoke.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Luke started.
“Yes! Oh my god, yes! Happy?” you shouted out, not lifting your head to look at him.
Luke smiled and looked back at Quinn, who sheepishly ran his fingers through his hair and nodded.
“I knew it!”
Quinn came back to you once Luke had left and knelt on the ground to be eye level with you.
“You put on quite the show just to cave and tell Luke,” he said.
“Yeah, well, your little brother is relentless,” you pouted.
“That he is,” Quinn laughed lightly.
“My brothers will make a big deal of it. I want the beginning of this relationship to be us figuring us out, not them telling us what our relationship is,” you told Quinn. Quinn grabbed your hands in his and kissed them, “Just as long as you know better places we can hide.”
“Trust me, Q, I know a lot of better places than my brother’s hotel room.”
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glorystark · 5 days
Text
Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.
Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death
Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader
Featuring: Sam Winchester
Word count: 2,3k
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We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.
“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.
“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.
“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.
“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.
“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.
“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”
“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.
“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”
“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.
“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.
“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”
“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.
“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”
I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.
I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.
Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.
—————
It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.
He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.
“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”
He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.
“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.
“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.
“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.
He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”
“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.
“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"I thought you trusted me.”
“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.
"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.
“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”
That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.
“Y-you love me, you said that before.”
“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.
My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.
“Dean, please-“
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.
Then I heard a buzz from my phone.
New message from Sammy:
“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”
He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.
Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?
I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.
—————
I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.
Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.
A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.
So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.
Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.
I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-
I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…
Dean Winchester’s Pov:
No no no.
This can't be happening.
It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.
I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.
It's a nightmare happening in real life.
Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.
I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.
There is so much blood everywhere.
Her blood.
This is hell.
No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.
I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.
I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.
“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”
She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.
She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.
All my fault.
All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.
As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."
And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…
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ginnsbaker · 1 month
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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (2/?)
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Part summary: Leigh goes on a double date with Jules. You reach a tipping point with Leigh's relentless hostility towards you.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5,072 | Warnings/Tags: None for now... smut eventually, enemies to lovers A/N: So... this turned into more than a two-shot. But it will still be a mini-series. It's also kinda slow burn for a mini series (lol). Also, this isn't canon compliant at all. Meaning, I took a lot of liberties and added stuff to Leigh and Matt's relationship, and it doesn't follow the timeline of the show. With that said, enjoy!
Masterlist | Part I | Next Part
-
The vet bills hit Leigh's bank account way harder than she’s willing to admit. 
She knew taking care of pets could get pricey, but she thought that was just for those on their last leg, like Matt's dog, Rogue. Facing those steep costs made her think twice about turning down Drew's offer a while back to bring back her advice column. So, she calls him up as soon as she pays up a quarter of the charges on her credit card for Visitor's medical expenses.
Drew answers on the second ring. “Hey Leigh, what's up?”
Leigh doesn’t beat around the bush. She never has to with her best friend. “Can we meet at the cafe? I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. Be there in 20,” Drew replies right away.
The coffee shop they frequent is a small local business that specializes in cold brews. Leigh’s favorite thing about it is not the coffee though, but its interior: mismatched chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, and the temperature that’s always just right. Leigh arrives first, securing their favorite table near the window. Drew walks in a few minutes later, coffee already in hand, and greets her with a warm smile.
“Okay, spill. What's going on?” Drew asks as he takes a seat.
“I've been thinking... about the column. I was wrong to turn it down. I want back in.”
The look of utter surprise on his face tells Leigh this was the last thing he expected. She senses his response won't be a straightforward yes.
“I'd be thrilled to have you back, Leigh, I really would—”
“But?” Leigh cuts in. She doesn’t need to hear a bullshit ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse. She wishes Drew would just be as direct with her as she is with him.
Drew lets out a sigh. Under different circumstances, saying no to Leigh would be as easy as declining an upsell from a McDonald's cashier. However, ever since Leigh became a widow, rejecting her feels significantly harder, even though he's well aware that Leigh values honesty over pity.
“But the thing is, the new writer’s really hitting it off with our audience. She's had a string of articles go viral lately.”
Leigh doesn’t look at all impressed by that. “Yeah, I heard.”
Personally, Drew’s not a fan of the new writer's style, and honestly, he still prefers Leigh. It would just be a hard sell if he brought this up to management. As the saying goes: if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
“Look, I still think you have a unique voice. You know I’d still take advice from you over the new girl.”
Leigh scoffs a little at that, shaking her head. Drew rolls his eyes; it’s typical of Leigh to never know how to take a compliment. He continues, “How would you feel about guest writing? Maybe for the first couple of weeks, we could find a way to incorporate your insights into a series or a special feature.”
It’s not what she hoped for, but she recognizes the olive branch for what it is.
And she’ll take it. 
“I... yeah, I think that could work, Drew. I've got a ton of new ideas, and this... this could be great,” Leigh says. “Uhm, thanks.”
Drew grins. “I thought you'd like that. Let's kick off with a couple of guest pieces, see how it goes.”
Leigh half-heartedly returns his enthusiasm just as her order of cheeseburger and affogato are served.
“Anything new with you?” Drew asks, his voice taking on that tone he reserves for the really good gossip. Knowing Drew's helping her out, Leigh figures a little life update wouldn't hurt as a form of thanks.
That update is about you. And the moment Leigh spills the beans, Drew's face lights up like a Christmas tree. But his excitement fizzles out just as fast when he figures out Leigh's got nothing scandalous to say. All she mentions is how you might've missed the mark by not doing your homework on the guy you were seeing.
“What’s your plan then?”
“Seems like everyone’s asking me that,” Leigh says flatly.
“You took your stray to her place, right? So, there must be some sort of plan. I mean, you could've gone to any other vet if you wanted to avoid her.”
“Yeah, but her clinic's location is so convenient, and I didn't want to shrink my world just for her.”
Drew hums in response. Leigh admits she’s been unusually passive with you. Normally, she'd confront issues head-on, but even almost half a year later, she still hasn’t fully processed Matt’s death, let alone his cheating. She's been trying a new tactic, almost as if by ignoring her problems, she hopes they'll fade away on their own. She seems to be betting on the idea that if she pretends long enough, maybe one day she'll wake up and find those issues have lost their grip on her. 
“I don’t know Leigh, the whole thing’s weird,” Drew says, scrunching up his face a bit.
“It’s not like I’m trying to make a friend or enemy out of her,” Leigh replies with a shrug. “I’m just using her services as a doctor, and she’s getting paid for it. That’s all there is to it.”
“Oh, so that’s why you need your old job back. She’s draining your purse,” he says, smirking as he adds, “Bitch.”
“You don’t have to call her that,” Leigh chides, though the corner of her mouth twitches in amusement. Deep down, she understands the twisted satisfaction in disliking someone without having to justify it.
“The funniest thing that can happen is if you two actually end up being friends,” Drew quips, picking up an accidental curly from Leigh’s plate.
Leigh finds that scenario hard to imagine, almost impossible. She doesn’t think she can be friends with someone Matt liked more than her.
-
Leigh is hunched over her laptop, with sheets of paper and colorful markers spread out on the table, meticulously designing missing dog posters for Visitor.
Jules, leaning against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in hand, watches Leigh for a moment before speaking up. “You know, you should've done that the second you decided to take Visitor in.”
Leigh doesn't look up from her screen. “His leg needed to be taken care of first,” she reasons.
Jules rolls her eyes, pushing off from the doorframe to come closer. “And? How did it go at the clinic?”
Leigh pauses, then lets out an exaggerated sigh. “I already told you about the tests Visitor had to go through. They said he’ll be fine.”
“I mean with the doctor, not the patient,” Jules clarifies with a smirk.
There's a beat of silence before Leigh quips, “No cat fights happened, I promise,” her eyes going back to her laptop.
“Any chance she knocked off a bit of the bill?” Jules asks, moving to sit behind Leigh to take a peek of her work. It looks like an 8th grader’s art project, but she bites back any criticisms.
“Nope.”
“Told you she’s a bitch,” Jules murmurs under her breath.
“It's not like anyone's doing charity work these days, especially not in this economy,” Leigh argues weakly.
“Yeah, right. Like she needs your money, Leigh. Veterinarians are loaded, if you didn’t know.”
“If you say so.”
Jules decides to drop the subject, and Leigh can hear her shuffling and thinking behind her.  
“Hey, there's something I've been wanting to ask you. Don't get mad, okay?”
“Prefacing like that? I'm bracing myself to be utterly scandalized,” Leigh says before smiling and sneaking a glance at Jules.
“Great, you’re cracking jokes again. That’s a good sign,” Jules deadpans but a second later, she’s smiling too. 
“Ask away,” Leigh prods.
Jules takes a deep breath, and then:
“Do you think you’re ready to meet someone new?”
Leigh suddenly stops, her fingers just hanging there above the keyboard, unsure of what to do next. What’s the protocol here? If three months is usually the cooling period after a break-up before one can start dating other people, then what's the deal when it's about a husband who's not only passed away but was also cheating? How does that work?
Before Leigh can come up with an answer, she realizes she's already saying no.
Jules groans. “Come on, it's just a double date. It'll be fun. You and me and—”
“I’m really not in the mood to meet other people, Jules.”
Jules cuts in, laying it on thick. “Leigh, seriously, when was the last time you went out and had a little fun? You're practically turning into a recluse. I won't stand by and watch my sister morph into the neighborhood's infamous dog lady.”
“Dog lady? Really?”
“I'm just saying, it's either try something new or start knitting dog sweaters for fun. Your choice.”
Jules can be a real pest sometimes; it’s an endearing quality except when they seem ready to go for each other's throats.
“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” Leigh rests her chin on her hand, seriously considering the invitation for a second. “I don’t know how to meet people, Jules. I stopped meeting people when I met Matt. He was my entire world, you know?”
Jules softens, throwing her arms around Leigh’s shoulders. “I know. And I wouldn't push if I didn't think it could be good for you. Plus, I promise, if it's awful, I'll personally escort you out and we can ditch them for ice cream. How's that?”
Leigh senses that Jules won't give up until she gets a yes, so she decides to concede just this time and get it over with.
“Okay, okay, you win. I'll go on your stupid double date. But if this ends in disaster, you're buying me the biggest tub of ice cream you can find,” Leigh says, shrugging her sister off her.
Jules pumps her fist in victory. “Deal! You won't regret this, Leigh. And who knows? It might actually be fun.”
-
The double date goes surprisingly smoothly, except for the occasional touches coming from her date. To be fair, they are typical for a date and are executed with respect. However, for some reason, Leigh finds herself unusually conscious of every physical contact, making her anxious to move things along and call it a night.
As they step out of the restaurant, Leigh mentally scrambles to remember her date's name. She's bracing for the goodbyes, ready to retreat into the comfort of her room, when Tommy, Jules' girlfriend, suggests they cap the night off at a new bar. It turns out Leigh's date has an investment in the place. He jumps at the suggestion, clearly eager to flaunt this detail, perhaps hoping to impress her.
He does earn a sincere, “That’s cool,” from Leigh, just before she slides into the backseat of his car. Tommy quickly calls dibs on the front seat, leaving the siblings sitting next to each other in the back.
The new bar clearly wants to be the town’s next hotspot, but it seems to be trying too hard. It's got this odd vibe where you're not sure if you should be dancing or just looking around, wondering what it really wants you to do. But Leigh agreed to this, and she won’t embarrass Jules by ditching. 
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She stiffens a bit as he draws near, the heat of Patrick's breath—Jules had reminded her of his name during the car ride—making her uncomfortably aware of how close he is. She shifts, trying to put a polite distance between them without seeming too obvious about it. “Um, just a gin and tonic, please,” she says.
She practically sighs in relief as Patrick heads off to order, her eyes darting around the bar. The 90s R&B background gets her head bopping, but all she’s thinking about is her couch and an episode of Parks and Recreation waiting for her at home. Jules and Tommy are in their own little world, giggling and looking all cozy. Leigh never thought she could feel like a third wheel on a double date.
Patrick is taking his time, and when Leigh cranes her neck to peer over the bar, she catches him striking up a conversation with a blonde. Her eyes narrow into slits as she watches, both of them obviously charmed by the other as Patrick laughs at something she said, enjoying himself in a way he hadn’t all night. 
Leigh feels a prick of irritation. Sure, she hasn’t been giving him the time of his life, but they’re still on a date. Isn’t there some unwritten rule about not flirting with other people when you're supposed to be with someone?
She waits a bit longer, hoping Patrick would remember he was supposed to be getting her a drink and come back. However, he hasn't moved an inch from his spot and is even passing Leigh's drink to the woman as they keep chatting. Leigh’s mind races. She knows she isn’t into Patrick, has been giving him nothing but the bare minimum, yet she can't shake off the feeling of being slighted. It's not like she wanted his undivided attention, but this... this just seems rude.
She catches Jules looking at her, a questioning eyebrow raised. Leigh just shrugs, not sure how to explain the jumble of feelings she's experiencing without sounding petty or jealous. 
When Patrick finally comes back with her drink, the mood has already turned sour for Leigh. She musters a polite smile, accepts the gin and tonic with a thank you, but then heads to the bar on her own without saying anything more. At this point, she's indifferent to what Patrick, Tommy, or Jules might think or say of her; she's finished playing nice for the day. 
Leigh slams her gin and tonic like it's water, the sting barely registering. She signals for another without missing a beat and strangers start sliding over drinks with cheeky grins. She toasts to nothing, to no one, letting the conversations slip away before they can get even one word out.
By drink number six—or was it seven?—everything's spinning, laughter too loud, lights too bright. Leigh’s clinging to the bar for dear life when she thinks she sees you. But as quickly as the figure appears, it's lost again, leaving her questioning her ability to handle her alcohol. Back in her college days, Leigh could hold her liquor like a champ, thanks to endless nights of partying. But now, staring down at her drink, she realizes she might've overestimated her current tolerance. The alcohol hits harder than she remembers, making her head swim more than she'd like to admit. It's been a while since she's gone this hard, and her body isn't shy about reminding her.
The worst part of it though is why, of all the faces her mind could conjure up, it's choosing yours.
Just as she tries to shake off the bizarre vision, your face appears again, this time on the dance floor, writhing in a sea of thick, sweating bodies. You're dancing closely with a man, and it’s—
It’s Matt. 
Leigh blinks rapidly, attempting to dispel the hallucination because it's impossible; Matt is dead—this can't be real. 
But the image of you and Matt refuses to go away. She continues to see the way your grind against him, the way you caress his face as you pull it further into your neck. Anger surges through her, hot and uncontrollable, and before she knows it, her last shot of tequila crashes to the floor. Before the bartender or anyone else can even figure out what's happening, Leigh storms through the crowd, pushing her way to what she believes is you and her husband, and shoves the couple hard. The moment she does it, the fog in her brain finally clears.
She saw wrong. They’re just a random couple, looking as shocked as she feels mortified.
Humiliated and more drunk than she's willing to admit, Leigh doesn't stick around to apologize. Tears start to well up as she pushes through the crowd, dodging empty faces while Jules' calls fade into the background. She shoves through the last of the mob, bursts through the doors into the night, and freedom feels just a breath away. But that breath catches, twists into a violent churn in her gut, and she can barely stagger a few desperate steps away from the entrance before her knees are on the cold pavement, and she’s spilling out onto the ground in front of her. A few groans of disgusts from the people around her doesn’t register as she succumbs to the consequences of her indulgence. Shortly after, she remembers why she’s cut back on alcohol, apart from the fact that Matt abhors it, turns him off more than anything.
“Leigh?”
The voice is familiar, even if she’s heard it only a few times. Her head's spinning as she looks up, the chilly air slapping her face after the stuffiness of the club. She blinks, trying to clear the blur of tears and the aftereffects of one too many drinks, squinting at the figure stepping out from under the streetlights.
Your face, more clearly now under the lamp post is kind of sobering her up a bit.
So, were you actually there in the club, or is Leigh so haunted by thoughts of you and Matt—thoughts she's tried so hard to ignore and bury—that she managed to conjure you as a way to finally confront her true feelings about the entire situation? It’s always the battles with herself she never wins.
“Hey, you alright?” you ask, lowering yourself to get a better look at her but keeping back a bit—just enough space for her to catch her breath or in case she needs to throw up again.
Leigh doesn't respond, doesn't even seem to see you're there. You rummage through your crossbody bag, pulling out some wet wipes and offering them to her. She still doesn't look up, but grabs what you’re offering with a little force. 
She proceeds to wipe her mouth and then her entire face as you continue talking, words tumbling out in a nervous stream.
“I saw you back there, in the club. I wasn't sure if I should come up to you, you know, with everything that's happened... with me being... well, the person I am in all of this,” you explain softly. “And then I saw what happened, how upset you got. Sorry I followed you here, I…I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Leigh abruptly gets to her feet, and you instinctively step back, giving her more room than probably needed.
“Why?” Leigh fires at you, her tone so icy it almost makes you regret coming after her. You're taken aback, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. 
Why what?
“Why do you even care?” she clarifies, eyeing you as if you're the densest person on the planet.
You grasp for something, anything that sounds like you're not just here out of guilt. “Anyone who knows you would be worried,” you say before you can think twice about what it could mean.
Leigh's laugh is sharp, cutting. “You don't know me,” she throws back.
“Yeah, I don’t,” you mumble to yourself. You wish you did, so you could fix this.
Leigh’s anger doesn’t let up. “You know what I think? You're playing the good Samaritan to scrub off your guilt. But not knowing Matt was married? That's on you. I bet you never asked too many questions because you wanted him to be Mr. Perfect—single, ready to mingle, the dream guy.”
Opening your mouth to argue, you find yourself at a loss. Leigh’s not entirely wrong. With Matt, you were in a bubble, caught up in the thrill of meeting someone who seemed so right, so honest. You clung to his every word, wanting to believe in this image of him you'd built up. 
The truth is, you never wanted to meet Leigh Shaw; you wanted to believe Matt's only fault was how he ended things with you, by disappearing.
But before you can admit to all of that, Leigh is already storming off. You think about chasing after her, but she spins around so fast at your footsteps, shooting you a threatening look and a low, “Stop following me,” that nails you to the ground. 
You keep staring at the spot she disappeared from, long after she's gone, wondering why Matt felt the need to find love elsewhere.
-
Leigh goes home, but not to an empty house. The second she opens the door, Visitor bounds into her arms, full of wiggles and wet nose kisses. Her mom's off somewhere, doing who knows what—Leigh's stopped trying to figure out where or why. Meanwhile, her phone buzzes with a string of voicemails from Jules, but Leigh's not in the mood to dive into those just yet. She decides they can wait till morning, along with the other missed calls and unread messages from strangers, asking for more information on Visitor.
For now, she peels off her socks and pants, leaving them scattered carelessly up the stairs before passing out on her bed.
-
Visitor’s follow-up check-up rolls around way too quickly for comfort. The moment Leigh steps through the clinic door with the dog in tow, you can practically cut the tension with a knife. Leigh's trying to keep it together, but her attempts at civility are imbued with a coldness that can’t be ignored.
With only a small ‘good morning’ from you and a nod from Leigh, you start the consultation, knowing you’d be doing her a favor if you just get right to it.
“How's Visitor been eating?” you ask as you work your stethoscope. 
“He eats fine,” Leigh drawls.
You nod, jotting down a note before moving on, “And his activity levels? Any changes there?”
Leigh’s response comes laced with sarcasm. 
“Oh, he's just peachy. Running marathons every morning.”
You clear your throat, trying to rein in your mounting annoyance at her childish behavior. “I'm just trying to get a complete picture,” you say.
But Leigh's not having any of it. Her comments grow sharper, her patience thinning, and it's clear she's more interested in taking jabs at you than discussing her dog's health.
Her last sarcastic remark has you drawing the line. “Leigh, you can be upset with me all you want outside of this clinic, but I won't tolerate disrespect while I'm trying to do my job,” you say evenly. “You're welcome to find another vet if you can't keep this professional. I have every right to refuse service if this continues. It's not what I want, but I'm not about to let you treat me any less professionally.”
Leigh goes quiet, yet she keeps her eyes locked on yours, decidedly not backing down. Then, after a tense moment, she mutters a single word, “Sorry.” It's not much, but it's something, and you decide to take it and move on.
“You mentioned something about a blood sample?” Leigh says, steering the conversation back to the reason she came in, and you're all for following her lead on this.
“Yeah, we need to check if his platelets are up and his infections are down, see if the meds are doing their job,” you explain. Then, veering a bit from standard procedure, you add, “Since this is a follow-up visit, I'm going to cut the lab test price in half for you.”
The discount evidently lifts her mood. It's not a perfect truce, but it's enough to get through the examination without any more barbs.
A while later, you're back with Visitor's CBC results in hand. “The infection's gone down, but it's still borderline,” you report, showing her the numbers. “We'll need to keep him on the medication for another week. And I'm adding some multivitamins and a specific diet to his regimen.” 
You scribble down the details, then note at the bottom of the pad about the discount—not just for the lab test, but for the prescriptions too.
Leigh takes the paper, scanning the details before her eyes finally meet yours. “Thank you,” she says, her voice softer than it's been.
“You’re welcome,” you reply with a smile before going back to your notebook, looking deep in thought. 
Leigh feels like you're back to your usual, friendly self. Yet she thinks she prefers the more raw, unfiltered version of you. The version that called her out earlier. These days, she's starving for that kind of honesty. Because having her as your client can’t be all that pleasurable. She's aware of how challenging she's been, and the straightforwardness somehow makes her feel more understood, more seen.
She wishes people would stop seeing her as Leigh: the one with the dead husband.
Then, out of nowhere, she asks, “When did you start working here?”
It's a seemingly insignificant question, yet coming from Leigh, it prompts you to close your notebook and focus entirely on her.
“I—”
“Because a year ago, I remember meeting a different doctor,” Leigh adds, absentmindedly running her fingers through Visitor’s coarse hair as he sleeps on her lap.
“You’ve been here before?”
It’s a painful memory—one that still sometimes brings tears to her eyes whenever it crosses her mind. Back then, the clinic bore a different name, and she and Matt had come together to say goodbye to Rogue.
“I have when it was still called Palm Coast,” she says.
You nod, understanding the context now. “Yeah, that was before my time. I bought this clinic on a whim after spending a few years practicing in Dubai.”
While most would latch onto the tidbit about your intriguing career history, Leigh zeros in on something else entirely, asking directly, “When did Matt start coming here?”
You shift uncomfortably at her question, and Leigh immediately regrets pushing too hard. She’s about to backtrack when you halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’m open to talking about it, just not here,” you suggest. “How about over coffee?”
Leigh hesitates, then says, “Okay, let me just text my boss that I won't be able to lead the yoga class this morning.”
“It doesn’t have to be now. Tomorrow works,” you say.
Realizing her assumption, Leigh’s cheeks color slightly. “What time?”
Now it's your turn to feel a bit awkward. “Would 7 work? It's the only time I have before the clinic opens.”
“In the morning?” Leigh says again, making sure she heard you right.
You nod sheepishly in reply. 
“Or we could maybe—”
“No, it's okay,” Leigh interrupts quickly. She's usually up before sunrise anyway; the only change would be trimming her morning run a bit. And for a one-time chat to get the answers she's after, she figures she can make such a small sacrifice.
“Are you sure you want to return Visitor to his real family?”
True to form, it's Jules who breaks the two-day-long sibling spat. It's usually her who tries to smooth things over with an apology, even on days when Leigh isn't exactly the easiest person to deal with. Her therapist keeps telling her not to always be the one to buckle, especially when she's the one who's been hurt, that Leigh should be the one to step up and make things right for a change. 
But here she is, reaching out first, just like always—because waiting for Leigh to make the first move feels like waiting for snow in July.
“Oh, so you’re talking to me again?” Leigh says as if she's gearing up for another round of conflict rather than welcoming peace.
Jules ignores her and continues, “Have you actually tried to find Visitor's owners, or have you just kinda... kept him because it feels good to have him around?”
“So what if it feels good to have a dog who loves you and is loyal to you?”
Jules shakes her head in a condescending manner, which only serves to irritate Leigh further. As soon as her popcorn is done, she heads out of the kitchen, flops onto the couch, flips on the TV, and kicks her feet up on the coffee table. Jules follows her, opting to stand next to the TV, poised to yank the plug out if necessary.
“Leigh, you do understand that taking care of a dog isn't something to take lightly, right?” Jules starts, but she breaks off when the dog in question trots over, tail wagging, trying to coax Jules into picking him up.
Leigh acts like she hasn't heard a word, her eyes glued to the TV screen.
“I thought you'd learned something from what happened with Rogue—”
That hits a nerve. Leigh's quick to fire back, “Oh, and jumping into a serious relationship is super responsible, right? Especially when staying sober is part of the deal.”
Right after the words leave her mouth, Leigh regrets them deeply. She's painfully aware of Jules' long battle with alcoholism, a struggle that began in college and required more than a couple of tries before Jules could claim any sort of victory over her addiction. Leigh knows it's still a sore subject for Jules, still fighting her demons, making her comment unfairly harsh.
Though the retaliation didn’t come out of nowhere. Leigh caught Jules at the club, discreetly sipping a drink she swore off, and chose to keep quiet then to avoid causing a scene in front of Tommy. She had plans to bring it up later, but then her own slip-up with drinking, bailing on her date, and the fallout with Jules spiraled into one of their nastiest rows in a long while.
“Jules, I’m sorr—”
“Just save it, Leigh.”
Jules heads for the door, her hand clenched tight, barely hanging onto her emotions. Leigh feels the situation slipping further downhill, and she can't just stand back and watch things crumble even more. She's about to chase after Jules when the doorbell rings, stopping both of them cold.
But Jules doesn’t even bother with the door; instead, she veers off, storming upstairs with that telltale slam of her bedroom door echoing down. Leigh sighs, stuck in the aftermath, while Visitor starts barking at the door. Dragging her feet, Leigh heads over to open it, half-expecting another problem but hoping for a distraction.
Leigh definitely wasn't expecting Danny, and seeing him there, she gets the sinking feeling that this storm swirling around her isn’t going to blow over just yet.
362 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 8 months
Note
Hi! Hope ur doing great! First of all, I really love your fics! I think you're really talented.
I have a request, if it's not too much trouble. I can't stop thinking about a Steve w/head trauma (so, maybe migraine prone, memory issues, etc) and a DM Eddie that still resents Steve from high school. Eddie doesn't know Steve struggles with the complications of his concussions, so he keeps judging him for it. Say, for example, Steve got a terrible migraine and couldn't pick the kids up from Dnd and Eddie thinks he's probably at a party and stood them up. Then Eddie finds out, maybe from Steve himself or a Party member or Steve's parents. (If you could somehow sneak in Steve's parents being good caring parents for one, it'd be really cool.) Eddie apologizes and they start getting closer. And, yeah, that's all. Thank you!!!
We know I love writing Steve with a migraine. Not to jinx anything, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had one myself so I'm sure the torture I put him through here will have instant karma and I will wake up with one. Is it realistic for Eddie to pretty much fall instantly in love with a man he hated the night before? No. Do I write realistic stories? No. Buckle up for the fastest burn you can possibly read today! - Mickala ❤️
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Steve Harrington was late.
Not just a few minutes late, not like he maybe got held up at a light for an extra two minutes, not like he had to stop for gas.
He was 25 minutes late.
Eddie was pissed.
He didn’t mind hanging out with the kids longer, wouldn’t have even minded if he’d just been given a heads up that Steve would be late.
A phone call.
A fucking letter by pigeon.
Anything.
Dustin seemed worried, more than anyone else, though the later it got, the more Lucas and Will and Mike seemed to worry too.
And Eddie would maybe worry too, except he knew what was happening.
He knew because it’s all he ever expected of Steve.
Steve probably went to a party, thought he could make his rounds, maybe have a drink and sober up in time to come get the kids.
And then he probably got bribed into having another drink, maybe smoke a joint in the backyard of whatever rich kid’s house he was visiting, maybe have a shot with a group of kids who liked to spend their time bullying the very kids he was supposed to be picking up.
Maybe fuck a girl in a bedroom upstairs until he was too tired and just passed out on top of her.
He rolled his eyes at the thought.
“Maybe we could try to call his house again?” Lucas asked.
“He didn’t answer the first four times, why would he now?” Mike asked, though his eyes kept scanning the road into the trailer park, searching for headlights that wouldn’t appear.
And wasn’t that just the last straw for Eddie? Watching his favorite gremlins admire and respect someone who couldn’t even remember to pick them up? Watching them expect so much from a guy who peaked in high school, who didn’t care about them if it hindered his plans?
“You guys wait here,” he said, his hands shaking with anger.
“Where are you going?” Will asked.
“To call Robin. If anyone will know what’s up, she will,” he replied.
It was late, but not too late for a phone call between adults.
“Buckley residence, you’ve got Robin,” Robin answered the phone with a bored tone.
“Any clue why your best friend is 30 minutes late to pick the kids up from my house?” He tried not to sound angry at her, it wasn’t her fault.
But he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand what band nerd, lesbian, nice person Robin could possibly see in Steve.
Sure, he carted the kids around a lot, and had helped Wayne out with Eddie’s medical stuff after Vecna, but it felt like he did it out of guilt more than anything else.
“He’s never late,” she said, her tone sharp, defensive. “You sure he knew they needed rides?”
“Positive. I heard him yell to them when he dropped them off that he’d see them in three hours.”
Robin didn’t respond for a minute, and he almost thought the line went dead.
“Has Dustin tried the walkie?” She finally asked.
“Yeah. No answer.��
“Shit.”
Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Wanna fill me in here, Buckaroo?”
“Um. Can you bring the kids home? I gotta go check on him.”
Before he could respond, the dial tone let him know she was already gone.
“Fuck!” He yelled.
He hung up the phone and grit his teeth together.
The problem wasn’t taking the kids home, he really didn’t mind and had told them on multiple occasions that he could so they didn’t have to rely on Steve to do it.
The problem was that they had relied on Steve and he let them down.
He hated that he’d have to go out there and tell them that Steve wasn’t coming.
He hates Steve for the way he would have to watch their faces fall, for the way they’d ride to their homes in silence.
He hated Steve for the fact that he’d probably buy them all ice cream tomorrow to apologize and they’d all rely on him again.
All would be forgiven.
———————————-
The next morning, he tried calling Robin and got no answer.
He tried calling Dustin and got no answer, though he wasn’t as surprised by that since he’d already been considering going to the Sinclairs’ to spend the weekend since his mom was working.
He tried Steve’s house and got an answering machine. Twice.
He considered leaving a scathing message, but didn’t want to risk one of his parents hearing it and deleting it.
“Fuck it,” he said to himself before he grabbed his keys and decided to drive to Steve’s house.
He was a little surprised to actually see Steve’s car in the driveway, half expecting him to still be passed out at some stranger’s house.
Before he could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Robin’s wide eyes were silently begging him to stay quiet.
She looked exhausted, a little flustered, more stressed than he’d seen in a long time.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
Maybe Steve drank more than he should’ve, maybe he wasn’t actually home and she was trying to find him still.
“Come in but be quiet. He’s finally sleeping,” she said, already walking back into the house.
He followed, closing the door behind him and giving his surroundings a quick look.
Everything looked perfect as usual except for Robin’s shoes by the door and her backpack open on the floor by the couch.
The couch that Steve was currently passed out on, blankets almost completely covering his head, ice pack resting over his eyes.
Eddie’s brows furrowed.
“Hangover?” He whispered to Robin.
She looked at him confused.
“No? He hasn’t drank in nearly a year.”
If Eddie didn’t have more control over his body, his jaw would’ve dropped.
“Oh. Um. So is he sick?” Eddie tried to gather up his thoughts, glancing over at the sleeping form on the couch.
He noticed the curtains closed and no lights turned on, noticed the complete silence in the house except for the sound of a fan running in the corner.
“He gets migraines. I thought you knew,” she said.
Eddie shook his head.
“He’s had a lot of head trauma. Gets migraines that make it impossible to even sit up sometimes. I guess he was fighting it most of the day yesterday but after he dropped the kids off with you, he passed out in the shower and barely was able to crawl to his bed after. When you called me, I kind of assumed the worst, so I came straight here and saw him naked and shivering in bed, not able to get up to get dressed or even get the covers on. Got him dressed, got him water and meds, called his parents, tried to help him eat. He spent almost an hour throwing up after that. Then he cried because he forgot the kids. Memory problems happen with the head trauma, too. I couldn’t calm him down until about an hour ago.”
Eddie let himself feel the guilt he deserved for thinking the worst of Steve.
Steve didn’t deserve this. No one did.
“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Eddie whispered, his voice broken thinking about how Steve had been alone here, probably scared when he was curled up in his bed unable to move.
“No. His parents are on their way. If it’s not better tomorrow, they’ll probably take him to his neurologist,” Robin responded.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
A whimper came from the couch, causing Robin to tense and hold her breath.
Eddie looked over and waited to see if maybe Steve was completely awake or if he’d just made a noise in his sleep.
After a few seconds, Robin relaxed, and he felt a breath leave his body.
“How often does this happen?” he whispered as she went to grab a drink from the fridge.
“This bad? Once a month or so. He sometimes has some memory problems without the migraine, but luckily he snaps back quickly,” she shrugged, acted as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Eddie could see right through her.
“And you help him a lot?”
“Well, his parents travel a lot for work, and he can’t always call them or remember how to contact them when it’s this bad, so yeah. I tend to be the one to take care of him until they can get here,” she said.
Eddie chewed on a piece of his hair, glancing over towards the couch every few seconds.
He was surprised this hadn’t come up before.
He was even more surprised that none of the kids had mentioned this as a possibility last night.
“Why didn’t the kids mention it last night when I was pissed?” he finally asked.
“Steve doesn’t really tell anyone. Like, the kids know, but they’ve never actually seen it, and so I think they just kinda forget. He doesn’t wanna bother them with it.”
“That’s stupid, they care about h-”
The front door started to open and a woman peeked her head inside.
Robin ran over as quickly and quietly as she could and Eddie stood awkwardly behind the couch as a middle aged woman walked into the house.
A man followed a few seconds after, a bag in hand.
“Is he asleep?” the woman asked.
“Yeah,” Robin replied before explaining much of what she’d already told Eddie to them.
The Harringtons looked surprisingly put together for a couple who probably hadn’t slept all night and most likely had flown home from somewhere as quickly as they could. They also looked nothing like what Eddie expected.
Mr. Harrington was bald, age spots on his head giving away that he must have been quite a few years older than Mrs. Harrington. She had the same color hair as Steve, same voluminous style, cut just above the shoulders. They both wore glasses, and both of them were wearing business attire like they’d rushed back directly from a meeting.
“And who is this?” he heard Mr. Harrington ask, gesturing towards Eddie.
He walked over and put his hand out to shake, trying to remember the best manners he could.
“I’m Eddie, a friend of Steve’s.”
He could feel Robin staring at him, but didn’t turn towards her. Instead, he shook Mrs. Harrington’s hand and then offered to help with any other bags they have.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. We can get them later. Since he’s asleep, we’re gonna go freshen up a bit and then you can head on home. Thank you for taking care of him, Robin. You know we appreciate you so much,” Mrs. Harrington said as she hugged her.
“It’s never a problem. Take your time,” she said.
“I’ll stay, Robin. You should go home and sleep,” Eddie offered before he could think about what he was offering.
“You’ll stay? With Steve?” Robin asked incredulously.
“Yeah. He seems pretty out of it so I’m sure he won’t even wake up before they’re done,” Eddie said, hopeful that he was right.
“Alright, my mom should be here in a few minutes anyway. She was bringing me a change of clothes in case I ended up staying today, so she can just bring me home,” Robin said hesitantly.
“Okay.”
The Harringtons nodded and walked upstairs without another word, most likely too tired to care much about who stayed with Steve as long as he was being looked after.
“Eddie, you don’t have to do this,” Robin said when they were gone.
“I know. But I’m the only one here who slept last night, I can handle it for a bit.”
“He can be…kind of a lot,” she sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t like saying something negative about him at all.
“It’s fine. If he’s in this much pain, then it’s understandable.”
Robin looked him over for a moment, something like understanding finally showing on her face. He didn’t know what she was understanding, but he was just grateful she didn’t seem to want to talk more.
She started zipping up her backpack, putting on her shoes, and whispering some basic instructions to Eddie in case Steve woke up.
“Replace the ice pack, don’t let him try to move off the couch by himself and only if he has to use the bathroom. The bucket at the end of the couch is if he gets sick. He needs water if you can try to help him drink some, and if he thinks he can stomach it, there’s some crackers on the coffee table. He’s due for more meds in two hours, but you probably won’t be here for that,” she rambled off.
Eddie nodded along, mentally making a to-do list.
“You’re sure you got it? He sometimes isn’t able to talk.”
Jesus Christ, how had he never noticed this? Was he that oblivious to what Steve was going through?
“I got it.”
He could hear a car pull into the driveway and Robin opened the door to leave.
“If you need me, call me. The Harringtons will probably be as quick as possible, but just in case,” she begged him.
“Okay.”
She left and closed the door behind her quietly, leaving Eddie staring at it for a minute.
He heard a small whimper from the couch and he rushed over, looking down at Steve.
The ice pack had fallen off his face, and his eyes were scrunched closed like he was still suffering even in his sleep.
Eddie leaned over to pick up the ice pack, ready to trade it out with a fresh one, when one of Steve’s eyes opened.
He froze and looked at him, hoping he would go back to sleep quickly.
“Eds?”
Shit.
He’d started calling him Eds in the hospital, always walking into his room with a bright smile and a ‘hey, Eds’ that had Eddie cracking a small smile.
He hadn’t heard it since then.
“Yeah?” he finally responded, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.
He knew when Wayne got headaches, he was very sensitive to noise.
“Hurts,” Steve whimpered out.
Eddie’s heart shattered in his chest.
He walked closer to the couch and knelt down on his knees, placing a hand on Steve’s forehead.
“I know, Stevie. You wanna try to have a sip of water for me?” He whispered.
“No, hurts.”
“Might help,” Eddie tried to bribe him.
But Steve’s eyes were closed again, and even though he wasn’t asleep, he was making it very clear that he couldn’t quite handle keeping them open right now.
Eddie gently ran his fingers back and forth across his forehead, down his nose, along his temples, smiling as Steve’s wrinkles seemed to disappear, his face relaxing slowly.
“Go back to sleep, Stevie,” he whispered.
“Mhm,” Steve let out before he seemed to actually fall back asleep.
—------------------------------
Eddie didn’t move from his spot for nearly 45 minutes, even when his legs went numb and his hand started cramping.
Steve hadn’t so much as snored, so Eddie didn’t want to risk any movement waking him up.
“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Harrington asked him, startling him slightly.
“No, thank you,” Eddie responded as quietly as possible.
“Are you the Eddie from the hospital? The one he insisted on visiting every day?” she asked as she sat down on the coffee table right next to him.
“Um, yes ma’am,” he knew he sounded nervous.
“Oh, so you boys worked it all out? He promised he’d tell me if you said yes!” she smiled at him.
“Worked…what out?”
Her eyes widened.
“Your feelings! Steve told us he was going over to your house the day you got out of the hospital and telling you how he felt,” she explained, sounding somewhat unsure now.
Eddie felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor.
“He what?”
“Oh dear,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was wrong.”
Eddie saw Mr. Harrington walk into the kitchen from his spot on the floor, felt the tension in the air as Mrs. Harrington tried to change the subject quickly.
But he wasn’t going to stop thinking about what she meant.
Steve had had feelings for him? Like, more than a friend feelings?
Steve let out a small groan in his sleep, shifting his head a bit.
Eddie tried to shush him a bit, running his fingers gently through his hair, careful not to catch on any tangles.
He could feel Mrs. Harrington watching, but she didn’t say anything else until Steve seemed to calm again.
“You know, Steve came out to us in March. Said he’d met a guy who was worth the risk. We love him, we always will, but we were very worried. I think any parent worries when their child, even their grown ones, says they’re in love with someone. In this case, we didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even liked men. And Steve here tends to fall fast and fall hard and forgets to wear a parachute before the jump.”
Eddie didn’t say anything, his head filled with the way she’d called his feelings love.
“But I think I see now that he didn’t need one. I think he had you jumping with him and you remembered the parachute for him.”
He turned to look at her, her fond smile pointed at them both as he continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair.
She got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Eddie to think about what she said.
That’s all he did for a while.
—---------------------------------------
The next time Steve woke up, he was slightly more coherent, but still didn’t want to eat or drink.
Mrs. Harrington had gone to lay down for a nap while Mr. Harrington was finishing up something in his office. They both told him to come find them if Steve woke up and needed something.
At some point, Eddie had rested his head against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat loudly against his ear.
“Eddie?”
No, why Eddie again? Why not Eds?
“Hey, Stevie,” he lifted his head and spoke just above a whisper. “How about a few sips of water?”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. I’ll help.”
Robin had been kind enough to find a straw for the cup of water she’d gotten before she left, so Eddie just held it up close to Steve’s lips and told him to sip.
Steve did manage a few sips before he shook his head and started to turn away.
“It’s time for more meds. Wanna take them?” Eddie asked.
“Bed?”
“Um.”
“Carry me.”
Eddie let out a small laugh at the demanding tone in Steve’s voice.
Even through the pain, and exhaustion, and struggle of speaking, he sounded like a drama queen.
Eddie might love him.
“Won’t that hurt?”
“A little.”
“Then shouldn’t you stay here?”
“Wanna cuddle.”
Oh.
“Uh. With…your mom?”
“You.”
Eddie was going to pass out.
There was no way he’d be able to carry Steve up the stairs to his room and then cuddle with him, and pretend he wasn’t feeling the overwhelming urge to propose marriage.
These new feelings kicked in too fast for him to process and he knew cuddling wouldn’t help.
“Please?” Steve asked, his eyes squinting slightly from what little light was making it through the curtains.
“Okay, but don’t laugh when I get out of breath.”
Steve didn’t respond, or really do anything to acknowledge what Eddie said, but he was pretty sure Steve’s head hurt too much to laugh anyway so he took a chance.
He removed the blankets on top of him and managed to pick him up relatively easily.
The walk to the stairs wasn’t bad.
The walk up the stairs was rough for a couple reasons: One, Eddie was out of shape and Steve weighed roughly the same as him. Two, Steve kept whimpering in pain with every step.
When they finally reached his bedroom, Eddie was panting and Steve had a couple tears falling from his eyes.
“I sure hope the cuddling lives up to expectations after that,” Eddie tried to joke.
“Worth it,” Steve sighed.
He set Steve in his bed first, made sure the fan in the room was on and the curtains were shut, then got into his bed.
People dreamed for most of high school to be in this position, but Eddie hadn’t let himself picture it.
He wouldn’t have ever pictured this scenario anyway.
Steve was sweaty, almost like he was running a fever, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him from scooting closer and moving Steve into his arms.
They both fell asleep in minutes, Eddie’s fingers wrapped up in Steve’s hair.
—----------------------------------------
When Eddie woke again, it was pitch black in the room.
Steve was also awake.
“Stevie? You need something? Feeling any better?”
He didn’t answer for a minute, and Eddie considered running to get one of his parents, when he finally spoke up.
“A little. Thanks”
Eddie let out a breath and relaxed back against the pillows under him.
“You can go if you want,” Steve nearly whispered into the darkness.
Eddie tensed again as he looked over at Steve, who was playing with the blanket covering him in his hands, not looking at Eddie.
“And if I don’t want to?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to hold Steve’s.
“I know you hate me, so. You can go.”
Well, that just wouldn’t do.
Eddie couldn’t let him think he hated him, even though up until this morning, he thought he did.
“Stevie, lay down and look at me.”
Steve, surprisingly, listened and Eddie felt a tug at his heart that Steve was willing to listen to him that easily.
Eddie cupped Steve’s jaw, gentle in case of any lingering migraine pains.
“I don’t hate you. I think I realized that maybe I had my own feelings wrong for a long time,” he admitted.
“What?”
“The best part of my days in the hospital were when you visited. Wayne used to make fun of me when you left for being stuck in the hospital for longer because I was lovesick. And when I got home and you didn’t come visit unless you were bringing the kids by, I just kinda thought it meant things were back to normal. King Steve didn’t need to be nice anymore, his charity case was safe and mostly healed,” Eddie stopped Steve from interrupting at that, scared to lose his train of thought. “So I went back to hating you. It’s easier to hate someone when your heart’s broken, ya know? And I just assumed you were the same Steve I thought you always were. But then I realized that you never really were the Steve I thought you were. And especially now, you’re a guy who deserves kindness and care and love. I’d really like the chance to give that to you.”
He felt Steve’s face getting wet and he brushed his thumbs back and forth to wipe away the tears falling.
“I was going to tell you the day you got out of the hospital,” Steve said, voice trembling.
“Tell me what?”
“That I loved you.”
The world stopped spinning, Eddie would bet money on it.
“You did?”
“I did.” Steve gulped. “I do.”
“You do?”
“You’re a hard person to fall out of love with, Munson.”
It was Eddie’s turn to cry, a few tears falling from his eyes onto the pillowcase below.
“So…”
“So?” Steve asked.
“Is the headache better? I’d really like to kiss you,” Eddie said.
“It’s good enough for a kiss. Might even work better than the meds,” Steve’s smirk could be seen even in the darkness.
Eddie didn’t need to wait for more permission than that.
He was gentle, of course. Just because his migraine had gotten better, didn’t mean he was ready to make out.
He gave him a couple soft pecks on the lips, smiling when he felt Steve smiling against him.
“I think you’re probably pretty easy to fall in love with, Harrington.”
“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.
“Yeah, might be a new record for me.”
“I’ve been told it’s very sexy when I’m suffering through a migraine,” Steve joked.
“You have no idea,” Eddie joked back.
They stayed in bed all night, Steve eventually falling back asleep again.
Eddie stayed awake though, memorizing the shape of Steve’s body with his fingers, or at least what he could reach while he held him.
They could talk more tomorrow, when Steve’s migraine fully subsided.
But Eddie knew what he wanted now, and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about someone.
747 notes · View notes
rosewine-5 · 3 months
Text
𝑽𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑨𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 (2)
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Billy the Kid x b!woc reader
Being the pastor’s daughter meant you had to always be on your best behavior, never stepping off the right path, walking the straight & narrow path, and her eyes towards heaven. That was until a certain outlaw rode into your life, and taught you sometimes it okay to have a taste of hell with a little bit of heaven.
A.N: reader’s last name is Bennett.
A.N2: Thank you all for the likes & feedback from part one, here’s part 2!
UPDATE: Part 3 is here!
Word count: 1.1k
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divider by saradika
Over the next few days, you tried to ignore Billy like the plague. He had a different idea, he would follow you like a lost puppy, never close enough for you to see, but you knew his eyes were on you. Going into town: you knew he was there. Working at the bar: you knew he was there. Even in church: you knew he was there and it drove you crazy. You all were taught to not look behind you during service, eyes forward and towards the pulpit at all times.
You were yearning to catch a glimpse of him, just to know you weren't crazy. However, you couldn't risk getting scolded by your mother for improper behavior. So you sat still, the burning of his eyes on you nagging you the entire time. As you waited for your father to finish saying goodbyes, you heard a voice behind you. “I should’ve known the pastor's daughter could clean up so well,” Billy said, looking you up and down.
“I didn't know the cowboy knew the Lord’s word either.” you responded, looking at him. “We all have our secrets, darling.” He said, a smirk appearing in the corner of his mouth. “So what are yours, Billy?” you asked, leaning on the wall and looking up at him. “I'm not telling mine if you're not telling yours, Ms. Bennet.” He grinned. You peeped inside the door and saw your father still in the middle of a conversation, so you had time. “Alright, I'll let you ask 3 questions about me, and I'll do the same with you, deal?”
“Deal. First question: Have you ever had a drink, and I ain't talking about wine?" Billy asked, to which you nodded in response. "Never. Have you ever taken someone's life?" you asked, noticing a slight twitch in his eyes. "Yes, I killed men before.” he replied, making your blood freeze. You felt your eyes go wide. “Let me guess, it goes against one of the Lord’s rules?” Billy asked, a tone of sarcasm laced in his voice. “Yes, a pretty big one!” You shouted, making him chuckle.
“Don't worry sweet thing, I'd never kill something so pure and innocent as you.” He smirked, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I'm not so innocent, murderer.” You snapped, the grin never leaving his face. “Oh really? So you’ve held a gun before?“ Billy asked, raising his eyebrows. “Of course I have!” you answered, making him gasp loudly and putting his hand over his heart in a mocking manner. “I thought you were a proper lady Ms. Bennett! How dare you touch a gun!” he said, adding an exasperated gasp to his sentence, making you laugh.
“Shut your mouth! I know how to use one, I've just never shot one.” You said, seeing him side-eye you. “You poor soul.” you heard him whisper to himself. “So, why do you bother me so much?” you asked, giving him a sharp and challenging look. “You intrigue me, little Bennett. I don't get how you've had such a protected lifestyle.” be answered. “Having a stable life isn't protected.” You said, shrugging. “Yeah? Because I've seen those brothers of yours in the bar, and they have the same rules you do I assume.” said, making you nod.
“Bull. Shit.” he said, chuckling. “You don't even see how deprived you've been of fun because you’ve had your eyes set on heaven the whole time.” Billy said, and then you saw his smile change, his eyes darkening. “Oh. You poor little thing. You don't know what you're missing out on.” He said, making you look at the ground in embarrassment. “Eyes are up here, little girl.” he said, tilting your head up. “So then answer my last question. What do you want from me?” you asked, annoyance laced through your words.
He smirked and then grasped your necklace and tugged it slightly so you were almost nose to nose. “I thought I made my thoughts clear from the start, honey. I want you.” He said, hearing the desire in his tone.
You stepped away from him like he was a raging fire, and yet you stayed close enough to still be within arms reach. You both didn't say a word, you didn't need to. His word rang in your ears. This man was a walking sin, the devil in the form of a man: a very handsome man. His eyes glued to your face, waiting for your next move.
Just like that the word faded away. You were no longer outside the church, you were in your own little paradise. The one that surrounded you when you got lost in his eyes. Your dress softly flows in the wind, yet you don't feel the chill of the breeze. You didn't feel anything actually.
“I want you”
He didn't know how those 3 words and 8 letters affected you, but then again, maybe he did. Did he want to make you get flustered like this? Possibly. Would you slap him if no one else was around? Probably.
At the same time did you think about what he was saying? Definitely!
Before you could give him an answer, he spoke up first. “Don't you wanna live, honey?” Billy asked, giving you that same signature smile. Fuck him and his cowboy casanova ways, God excuse my French. As a matter of fact, fuck his pretty smile. Fuck his beautiful eyes. Fuck his large strong hands and make you lose your words with a simple touch. And fuck yourself for crushing on him.
Before you could answer him, you were happy to see your father walk out with your mother and father in tow. “Thank you Jesus!” you thought. “Ah! Billy. I see you've met my daughter.” He said, putting a firm hand on your shoulder. “Lovely daughter you've raised, sir. She was just helping me understand the message today, wise girl you have right there.” he said, giving you a kinder smile, but the true intentions remained a secret, one only you two knew.
“Well if you ever want to study the word more, she’ll talk to you about it. Won't you, dove?” he asked, the stern look in his eyes daring you to say “no” along with his palm on your shoulder. “Bringing a man closer to God and Jesus gets you to heaven as you always say.” You said with a nervous smile. Billy, who was now leaning on the wall, gave a knowing look in his eyes. “Closer to heaven” you say, Ms. Bennett?” He asked, a playful edge showing through his words. “Amen to that.” he said, taking your hand and kissing it softly. Before you walked away with your family, he whispered to you one last time. “Now I have a veiled excuse to have you to myself.” And with one last smirk, he walked away from you, leaving you shaken.
Your dad had no idea what he had just done. For a man of God, he seemed to be blind to the works of the blue-eyed devil in front of him.
The man who preached on saving souls from temptation just presented the blue eyed silver tongued serpent with his new Eve.
And the apples were looking riper by the minute.
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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The Bad Day at Work
I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃
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Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 1.4K
Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set
Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography
Minors, do not interact
You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.
You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.
"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.
You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.
"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.
"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."
He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.
Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.
"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.
"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."
Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?
It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.
I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.
Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.
"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.
"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."
You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.
"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.
That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.
You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.
"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.
Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.
"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.
"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.
"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.
You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.
Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.
You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.
"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.
The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.
It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.
"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.
"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.
"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."
The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.
"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?
You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.
"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.
He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.
"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."
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kairiscorner · 8 months
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i just want what's best for you. — miles 42 x reader
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summary: no matter how much miles may love you, you still have to get through his mom for you two to be together. first impressions didn't go so well, and now... now you're starting to think she's right about you. but somehow, you both come to an understanding, and... eventually, an understanding can be made between you two. pairing: miles 42 x gn!reader genre: slight angst + comfort word count: 2,646 request: Could you do a miles (42 or 1610 or both) x reader where his mom isn’t to fond of her but, it’s only because she doesn’t want to see him get hurt. And reader considers breaking up with him and his mom overhears and feels bad. a/n: hello, my lovely anon !! omg i loved writing this ngl, I INTENTIONALLY PUT MORE ANGST HERE THAN I DID FOR 1610 MILES AAAAA please multiverse, don't let this flop PLEASEEEE also SORRY FOR THE CRAPPY SPANISH AND OOC RIO, I TRIED UUEUEUUEUUE BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS !!
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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you had never felt any more intimidated and nervous than you did right now as you sat down with miles' family for dinner. you had partners before and met their parents, it wasn't all so bad; you actually had fond memories of those people and sometimes would reminisce how kind they'd treat you, how they'd welcome you into their families and give you a home away from your home when you'd need it. however, when it came to miles' family... it was so-so.
his uncle aaron, without a doubt, was one of the nicest father figures you had ever encountered in your whole life. he was a sweet man who cared for miles and would, be proxy, care about you, too. he'd tease you and miles when he'd see you two together in the most low-key ways and still make miles lose all his cool and stoic composure around you when his uncle would expose how much he talks about you.
"this kid can't ever go through another day without thinking about you. like seriously, all i did was take him to the convenience store downtown and i see him with all these snacks i've never seen him eat before, snacks he told me he hates with a burning passion. i look at him and ask him why he's got those snacks, and he mutters under his breath... 'these're for them, not for me.' how cute of my nephew, no?" he said with a chuckle as miles glared up at his uncle and pouted at him, with you giggling at the story as everyone but his mother was laughing about that little anecdote.
uncle aaron nudged rio a little, to which she shot him a glare similar to miles' and muttered something under her breath in spanish. uncle aaron sighed as some tension was caught in the air and enveloped the entire dinner table, with no one else uttering another word or sound as you all ate in silence. you felt rio's gaze on you at times while you all ate, and unlike the other mothers you had encountered with your previous partners, she had a gaze that felt a little... judgemental, in a way?
you felt pretty self-conscious as rio looked at you, and you felt yourself jump slightly in your seat when she'd ask you questions about you and her son. she called your name randomly, shattering the silence and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up as you nearly sprang up from your seat in utter surprise. "y-yes rio?" you asked her as she winced, as if she heard a discordant tune when you uttered her first name. without even looking up from her plate, she asked you, "did you know miles got a b in spanish? ay, i'm proud of you, mijo, though... you usually do so much better than that. i'm worried, have you been missing classes recently? and do you know anything about it?" she asked you as she turned her gaze up at you, causing you to freeze up and instinctively shake your head.
miles breathed out a small huff as he tried to think of a reason to give his own mother, who he promised he'd never lie to, as his uncle aaron tried to tell rio that maybe now wasn't the right time to talk about it, but rio told him in spanglish that now was as good a time as any, she had to know if her son was being distracted by... she didn't dare finish that thought. she looked over at you then at miles and raised an eyebrow. "so? is no one gonna tell me anything?" she asked the two of you as you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling pretty intimidated by her right now. "mama, it's nothing, i promise you, i--" "it's nothing?" "oh, no." uncle aaron muttered as he silently excused himself and left the table with his plate in hand, gesturing to you to follow what he did and to seek refuge into the kitchen, away from the mother and son.
you did as he directed and excused yourself, nearly stumbling out of your chair as rio's eyes followed you with a kind of suspicious gleam in those hazel eyes of hers. indistinct conversation and arguments between the mother and son were heard, with the sound of running water, the squeaking and setting down of plates being tuning their voices out as you gratuitously helped uncle aaron wash the dishes. "hey, sorry about them, miles' mom hasn't been in the best mood lately." he muttered to you as you nodded. "i-i understand, aaron. it's really okay..." you murmured back as you both finished, with uncle aaron wishing you a good night as he disappeared into the garage doing who knows what.
as you exited the kitchen, you heard rio's muffled voice from the dining room mention your name, and you walked over in a morbid kind of curiosity to know why she mentioned you when she was scolding miles; though a part of you thought of why, you hoped what you thought of wouldn't be the case. "sé honesto, ¿te estás distrayendo con ellos?" she asked miles with a stern voice as miles looked down at the ground, clearly frustrated, but wasn't about to run his mouth off at his own mother. he shook his head and murmured, "mi amante no tiene la culpa de lo que me ha estado pasando, mama."
rio sighed exasperatedly as she looked at her son in disbelief. "and you mean that? you seriously... look, mijo, no quiero hacerte infeliz, y sé que crees que entiendes lo que es bueno para ti, pero… no puedo permitir que ellos te pongan en peligro. they might... not be a good influence on you." she said with a soft voice as miles looked up at her with an incredulous expression on his face. "mama, you have no idea who they really are." he said as rio kept talking to him, but he stormed off on her. she called for her son repeatedly, but he marched into his room, with her sighing aloud and storming off herself, too.
you felt a heavy weight on your shoulders as your anxieties and worries over what miles' mother thought of you were realized; she doesn't trust you, and she doesn't think you're good for her son. you felt so weak in the knees at that moment, thinking that you would never be able to love miles freely without his mother intervening or trying to convince him you're not right for him, that you're a distraction for him. you didn't want any conflict between the two anymore, so you thought of a way to end their feud peacefully, and the only way that'd work was... one neither of you would particularly like.
you snuck upstairs to miles' room and gently rapped at his door, muttering that you were there, and that you wanted to talk to him. miles opened his door a crack, and when he could confirm it was you, he opened the door wider and gently took your hand in his. "cielo," he greeted you softly with a light squeeze of your hand as he looked at you. "am i ever glad to see you." he said as he led you into his room, with you reciprocating his touch and squeezing his hand back. he gestured for you to sit down on the side of his bed as he sat down, with you following him and sitting down on the plush of his bed.
he brushed a few hairs from your forehead and kept his gaze on you as you looked down at the floor, unsure of how to tell him what you were articulating to yourself in your head; unsure of how he'd take it, if he even will be able to. you sighed a little longer than you planned to, causing miles to pull away from you and have worry drawn on his face as he tried getting a better look at your expression. "cielo, are you okay? did something happen...?" he asked you as you shook your head gently. "nothing, nothing, i..." you began, but you stopped yourself, trying to think of how to tell him all over again as all you could think of at that moment was that: miles' mother doesn't think you're any good for him.
you took a deep breath and faced him with saddened eyes. "i'm sorry, miles, i just... i don't think you should be dating me anymore. it's not because of you, of course not, it's... it's on me." you whispered, with miles feeling like he took a blow to the gut, feeling utterly helpless and confused at what you just told him. he wasn't sure what you meant by 'it was your fault', but he wanted to let you know right now that you weren't at fault, for whatever it was that'd come between you two.
miles appeared a little more hurt and distressed by what you told him, the matter at hand still not sinking in, that you told him you'd break up with him... he couldn't, wouldn't, believe it. "what? amor, what do you mean? 'your fault'? i doubt that..." he began as he tried to reassure you, feeling himself coming undone at the seams and desperate to know why you wanted to part ways with him. was it because he couldn't spend as much time with you as before? because he was too busy with his job as the prowler to be with you? if you only told him, then... then he'd find ways to make it work, not make you feel alone ever again, make up for what he lacked in the past by working hard for you now in the present.
"is it... is it because i'm not able to spend much time with you as before? mi vida, i'm sorry... i'll make up for it, i promise!" he said as you shook your head. "no, miles... it's not your fault. it's mine, even if you don't say it is." you said with a melancholic voice as miles looked at you with feebleness filling his face as he tried to understand how it's your fault for anything. he defended you in front of his mother the best he could, and yet... he'd still lose you in the end, if not the argument.
you couldn't figure out how to tell miles that you didn't wish to break up, you wanted to be with him still, but there was no better way of getting his mom and him to make up if you were still in the picture. you heard his mom say it himself, you didn't seem like a good influence on him, and maybe her behavior towards you was a sign that you really weren't being good to miles, good to his parents, and just... weren't good in general. you sighed, trying to keep the tears from flowing as miles tried to tell you that if you really wanted to break up with him, he'd respect your decision, but... he begs of you to tell him how it's your fault.
you felt your heart throb and your throat flare up as you tried to stifle your cries and sobs. "i'm just, i'm not good for you, okay, miles? i'm sorry... you deserve better." you told him in a quieted voice as you got up and went over to his door, about to leave him and give him an easier time with his family than stay with him and just ruin his relationship with his mom even more.
"espera, mi cielo! hold on a minute, can't we talk about this...?" he called out to you as you opened the door to leave, to keep yourself away from miles to keep him and his mother from getting angry at each other and fighting all over again. however, when you opened the door, you saw a familiar face look back at you, and a familiar voice shrieking in surprise--it was miles' mom, who was eavesdropping on you two. you shrieked at his mom's shrieking, as miles shrieked at your shrieking.
"mama!" miles exclaimed as he saw his mom at the doorway, with her telling the two of you to calm down, and that nobody needs to break up with anybody. "i'm... i'm sorry i eavesdropped, but i came here to... to say sorry, mijo, and... i'm sorry to you, too." she said as she turned to look at you with guilt and shame in her eyes. "you didn't deserve to hear all that... i shouldn't have said that." she muttered as she looked at the two of you. she leaned against the doorway and sighed as she began to speak again, looking around miles' room.
"i didn't mean that you were a bad influence, i just... i default to worrying about what miles could be doing because, you're a teenager, miles--you're both teens and... you both wanna do your own things. it worries me when miles doesn't tell me anything, it makes me feel like i'm failing as a mom when... i'm the only parent you have now." she said in a soft voice as she looked at miles sadly and up at you. she sat down next to miles on the bed and held his hand. "i wish you could just be honest with me." she muttered to him as miles looked at her with sadness in his eyes. "i am being honest with you, mom. you don't even... you don't even know how amazing my partner is, you hardly give them a chance, and that's what hurts me every time." he said as you looked at the two of them.
miles' mom got up from the bed and placed her fingers underneath your chin and lifted your head up to look at her and sighed. "i'm so sorry i judged you too quickly, i just... mom instincts kicked in, and... i got a little carried away and thought i knew what was good for my baby boy, but... i guess i don't know as much anymore. maybe... i'd know him better if i trusted him, if i trusted you." she said with a slight smile on her face as you gave her a slight smile back. "again, i'm so, so sorry for how i was earlier, and... just, in general." she uttered as you nodded. "it's okay, mrs. morales." you told her as she smiled wider and pulled away from you. "y'know what, that just made my evening much better. i think i like you a bit better already. 'mrs.' morales, finally." she said with a slight chuckle as you chuckled back at her little quip, with miles smiling to himself as he finally witnessed you two get along. she let miles keep dating and seeing you, only if he promises to get his grades back up to how they were before.
as his mom left the room, miles told her you two needed to talk, alone. she understood, but reminded him not to lock the door. "lo tengo, mamá, entendido." he said as he closed the door the minute she headed down into the hallway, leaving you both in an awkward silence after you two had 'broken up' a few minutes ago. before miles could say anything, you wrapped him in a big hug, muttering under your breath how happy you were to be with him, that his mom finally accepted you. miles slowly reciprocated your hug, holding you close and kissing the top of your head as he smiled against your hair. he was beyond happy and relieved to know his mom finally saw you as a person he loved, not as a distraction to him or a bad influence, just someone he cared a lot about to devote himself to, someone he wouldn't leave nor let anyone, not even his own mom or uncle, get in the way of him loving ceaselessly.
he gets that his mom just wants what's best for him, but... maybe it was time for him to decide what's best for him on his own, and that'd be to love you with all his heart and stay by your side, never leaving you once because he loves you too much to let you go that easily.
tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless
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chongoblog · 1 month
Text
My First Pokemon Playthrough
So I've noticed in my time of talking about Pokemon, I've told a lot of various anecdotes that are all a part of my very first time playing Pokemon. I was feeling nostalgic, so I figured I would share what I remember about this playthrough for everyone to enjoy. There may be a tangent or two in there and people who have followed me a while may have heard these before, but hey.
For context, I believe I was about 8 years old at the time, and after collecting some Pokemon cards, watching a kid play Crystal at summer camp, watching some of the anime, and generally being a pretty big fan (I even have Pokemon Yahtzee burned into my memory for some reason...), I finally got myself a Game Boy Advance with Super Mario Advance 2: Super Mario World, some Frogger game (after looking it up, it was Temple of the Frog), Tony Hawk Pro Skater 2, and, of course, Pokemon Sapphire.
I remember that my starter was Torchic. I don't remember why I chose that one, although I remember really liking the color red at the time (which I still do), so that was probably why.
I don't remember too much about my team or the general progress I made in most of the game, but I do remember Slateport City. For those who do not recall, in Slateport City in order to advance you need to get into the museum, which is blocked off by Team Aqua Grunts until you talk to someone in the shipyard. There are also Team Aqua grunts blocking the route ahead
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Now, my 8 year old brain for some reason concluded that the only way to get past the Team Aqua Grunts was to intimidate them with a high enough level Pokemon or something like that. So one night, while I was supposed to be asleep on a family beach vacation, I beat down more poor level 13 Pokemon than I could count. I learned later what I was actually SUPPOSED to do, which led to me finally fighting the Team Aqua Grunts.....with a level 42 Blaziken.
And since the Name Rater was in Slateport City and my starter had evolved, I figured it was only appropriate to give him the new moniker "MAGMA MAN"
The rest of the playthrough went about as normally as tearing through the game with mostly Blaziken normally would go. There were a couple exceptions though. First off, at the Weather Institute, after I saved the day from Team Aqua, they were kind enough to gift me a Castform, but my party was full, so I couldn't get it. My 8 year old self did not read this. (Remember this, it will come back later). But I managed to make my way through the game, catching Kyogre with my Master Ball and giving it the nickname "LEGENDARY"
Then we come to the Elite Four where I hit a brick wall. I don't remember my team at the time exactly, but I do remember it was MAGMA MAN which had reached about level 80 or so, LEGENDARY which was about level 48, a level 36 Pelipper, two level ~35 Tentacruels, and some other sixth Pokemon I don't recall. And for some reason, I just couldn't beat the Elite Four with this team for some weird reason. The best I could ever get to was Drake. I felt I was utterly defeated.
That's when we bring a new character into the story. A member of my friend group at the time who we'll call "John" to protect the innocent. Now John had a very "uncle who works at nintendo" type energy to him. The group used to play Gauntlet: Dark Legacy together all the time, and when I got the GBA port of it, he convinced me to trade my recently obtained copy of the Pokemon Trading Card Game Boy game for a Gameboy-Gamecube cables, only for me to learn too late that it didn't work like that, and from there, there were no backsies (but then I got ahold of a copy of Pac-Man VS and Four Swords Adventure then I learned to emulate, so who's laughing now).
Anyway, John saw that I was struggling and he decided that he wanted to help me out. You see, he had come across an incredibly powerful and rare Pokemon that couldn't be found in the wild. He had gotten it exclusive, and I had never seen it before. It was called a "Castform". Now John had Ruby version, so he decided that as much as it ached him to part with it, he figured it would be a reasonable trade to trade this powerful Castform for the slightly less powerful LEGENDARY. I agreed.
And then he moved to Ohio.
To this day, Castform is my least favorite Pokemon because of this betrayal. I was so distraught at 8 years old that I completely restarted my game of Pokemon Sapphire. I don't remember much about that second playthrough, but there's a reason why.
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This rival battle on Route 110 is somewhat infamous for being quite the sudden difficulty spike. And since I knew how to get past Team Aqua now, I didn't have an over-leveled starter to stomp my rival with ease. After losing to her about five or so times, I got frustrated and figured that whatever team I had wasn't cutting it. So I restarted again.
In my third playthrough, I made it all the way to the rival battle on Route 110. Then she stomped me repeatedly. So I restarted again.
This cycle would go on for, like, 15 resets. I didn't count, but it felt like there was hundreds. As I would keep on resetting and playing through the early-game of Pokemon Sapphire (which I had practically memorized at this point), I would start to take things a lot less seriously, sometimes picking the girl character, making my name random gibberish, etc.
Eventually, on one of these playthroughs where I started with Treecko, I actually managed to beat the Route 110 Rival Battle! And on my first try too! And thus began the epic journey of a girl named DE.
Now, I'd figured at this point that maybe only leveling up one Pokemon wasn't the best approach, so I was trying to balance my teams a bit better (I guess my rival taught me something). I was making my way through the game, and one day I'm checking out my best friend's Pokemon in Ruby, and who do I see in his box, but a Kyogre. I take a look at his name, and I can't believe it. It was LEGENDARY. John had traded it to my friend before he moved.
My friend didn't know that it was originally mine, so he offered to trade it back, which I accepted. LEGENDARY was a disobedient little bastard since I didn't have enough badges, but he got the job done. I don't remember the team I ended up using to finally beat the Elite Four, but it included my Sceptile starter, a Sableye that somehow knew only Fighting-type moves, and two Kyogres, LEGENDARY and LEGENDARY2.
And that's my first playthrough of Pokemon Sapphire. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it.
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