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#& we had to break it to them that ONE all the restaurants closed hours ago and TWO
monzamash · 1 year
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ruin the friendship — charles leclerc
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summary – maybe you were a little more than friends but that was between you, charles and god. nobody else. and you refused to be the one to break the pact. pairing – charles leclerc x you (female reader) rating – 18+ (smut, language, sexual references, probably bad french/italian) word count – 2.5k a/n – “we passed being friends like 20 fucks ago” requested by anon. thank you! masterlist
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“Everybody get changed for dinner and we will meet downstairs at the restaurant in an hour. Le Bein?”
The group of nearly a dozen of Charles’ co-workers, employees and friends all nodded in agreement and went their separate ways in the foyer, buzzing about how beautiful the resort was. And it was truly magnificent. Extravagance fortified every wall, even the ceilings. Chandeliers dangling from the rafters above, sparkling and flaunting the huge amount of wealth that was stashed away in the Italian Alps. Eye-watering amounts of wealth.
You weren’t enamoured like the rest because simplicity was more your taste, minimalist living was the way of the future and you weren’t afraid to voice that to Charles as he walked up beside you, eyes trained on your rolling ones. His hand was dangerously hovering above your lower back, the large puffy jacket the only thing keeping his hot touch barricaded from your cool skin – he couldn’t help himself.
“It’s over the top but Ferrari is paying for all of it,” He whispered into your ear, too close for your comfort, especially around his brothers who were no doubt watching your every move – adamantly sceptical that you and Charles were just friends.
“I should report you for misuse of company funds, sir. And if anyone from work asks why I was here when we get back next week – it was a coincidence. Purely happenstance.”
“Si,” Charles drawlled, toggling between his native tongue and Italian, which always threw you off, “You coming up to my room after dinner will just be some luck too, yes?”
You could hear the smirk on his face before you let your eyes glance his way, breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck and again, standing way too close for a pair of colleagues who, by chance, had accidentally found themselves in the same place, at the same time. That was the story and you were sticking with it. Unfortunately Charles was a horrible actor – that much was obvious since the moment he sparked up this unlikely romance with you but in his defence, his impulses were intensified after weeks of being away from you. And you felt the same.
The relationship wasn't exclusive by any stretch of the imagination in the beginning, but as time went on, you became loyal to each other. The friends with benefits label was a facade for the public and for your employment but deep down, you both knew there was more to your relationship than just sex. You knew each other so intimately and spent hours staying up ‘til dawn, sharing your deepest, darkest secrets. He made you feel safe, like you were more than just a girl who happened to work for the same company he worked for. It was easy to get swept up in the lavish lifestyle and reap the benefits that came with it but Charles saw you differently – saw life differently. And to him, you were the missing piece to his puzzle.
You were friends’ first – great friends but he was charming and by far the most attractive man you’d ever laid your two eyes on. And by some miracle, he felt the same way about you. But all of that meant your friendship had been compromised, your working relationship was hanging in the balance because if either of you caught feelings and made them public, then you’d have to report it to HR and you didn’t want to lose what you had.
Because sneaking around was kind of hot. Or really hot if you asked Charles and you didn’t want to burst his bubble. You weren’t that selfish and truth be told, you enjoyed the thrill of it. The secret glances from across a table when you were supposed to be taking notes, subtle touches whenever he complimented your suggestions in a meeting and riskiest of all, the quick fucks in his drivers’ room between qualifying blocks. That had unabashedly become a perk of your job and a scandal waiting to be blown wide open but you loved it.
“I think it might just be your lucky day, Leclerc,” You replied and looked away from the man who was seconds away from exposing your secret, calling off dinner and dragging you up to his room for dessert. But he was better than that and obviously he could control himself for a couple more hours. Surely. 
“See you soon then.”
He looked like a man tortured when you walked into the restaurant, all of your glorious curves swaying side to side, eyes on everyone but him. Since simplicity was your style, you’d gone classic – long, black satin skirt hiding the stilettos you wished you didn’t have to wear, paired with a black blazer and a white, lacy bustier top underneath. It was a fancy establishment, which meant everyone was done up to the nines, their best attire on display and you were pleasantly surprised that Charles hadn't caved to the pressure of appearances, marching to the beat of his own drum in a basic black tee. He still looked as delicious as the aperitini he’d already ordered for you, eagerly awaiting your arrival.
“For me?” You asked him politely, feigning surprise even though these were the little things he would do for you in place of physical touch.
“Of course.” He smiled, delighted that you took the seat directly across from him and not the one being offered to you by his annoying younger brother.
You are beautiful, he mouthed once everyone returned to their 'round the table small talk. You are. Charles had you blushing and fidgeting with your thin gold chain, as if it was first time he'd ever said that to you. It wasn't but it still had you squirming in your seat, grinning like a lunatic.
The 3-course dinner was sensational, and more than satisfied the hunger you’d conjured up during your long day on the slopes and Charles agreed wholeheartedly. He had also worked up quite the appetite retrieving you from the snow every time you stacked it, brushing the ice from your suit and cheeks, lingering longer than he should have. It was great fun but famishing once you all made it back to the resort.
“All my training has gone down the drain after that meal – my god.” Charles groaned and patted Andrea on the back with a mischievous smile, taunting his trainer and closest confidante. Andrea simply shook his head and muttered something to the effect of vaffanculo before disappearing into the bar with the others, sick of Charles' shit after being stuck with him in the Dolomites for the last 3 weeks.
You and Charles hung back from the group, both waiting for the other to send up the bat signal, or in your case, holding up the three-finger salute. Your first solo hang out – not a date – with Charles was watching the Hunger Games together, snuggled up with a glass of wine. Ever since, your signal to abort mission had been the sign used in that film and more recently it’d become your gesture for sex. Would you have liked it to be a little more sexy? Sure but it did the job.
“People are going to miss you, ma belle,” Charles whispered between the soft kisses he was sloppily pressing to your trembling lips, backing you against the only blank wall in the room.
“Don’t care.” You rasped, moans caught in your dry throat as you felt a pair of cold hands unzipping the long silk skirt you’d worn to dinner and gliding it down your shaky legs like it was as light as a feather.
A small gasp slipped from your lips as you caught Charles’ dark eyes again, his soft laugh fanning warmth across your face, "All I've been able to think about tonight is this..." He stammered off with a smirk before running his hands down your sides, pushing the thin blazer off your shoulders and gaining full access to the length of your neck.
You moaned quietly and brushed your dainty fingers through his soft, dark brown locks, "It's all I've wanted since we got here," You whispered and rested your head back against the wall, enjoying the feeling of his hands smoothing down your to your ass.
"You're so fucking beautiful," Charles growled against the tops of your breasts that were being pushed up by the tight bustier top, leaving you breathless and shaky under his touch. He got off on having complete control over your body, especially like this – desperate and panting for him in the darkness.
Charles dropped down to his knees and pushed his hands up under the hem of your top so he could access the waistband of your panties. You were spellbound now with your eyes closed and heart thumping in your chest, head dizzy and skin sizzling as he trailed his hands down your thighs, gliding your flimsy underwear down far enough that you could step out of them without needing to look.
"So sexy." Charles groaned at the sight of the dark red lace that had been hidden by your skirt, his hot breath now fanning over your shaky legs that were now completely bare and exposed to the cool air, even though your were burning up, "Le rouge n'a jamais été aussi beau." Red never looked so good.
His large hands gripped you thighs and roughly separated them in front of his mouth, every single little movement riling you up even more. Charles was ravenous, hungry to devour your after hours of deprivation – starved of your taste, of his name falling from your lips. He needed it, needed you to sing his praises, beg him for more and you never disappointed.
Your fingers brushed back up the side of his head as he hooked your leg over his shoulder and buried his tongue between your thighs, sending you into overdrive and taking your breath away. Your hands instantaneously gripped the tuft of brown waves on top of his head, trying to control the moans that were threatening to escape your chapped lips, his fingers doing the work of a maestro, orchestrating your body like a symphony.
"Feels so good," You whined as Charles grunted, mouth still attached to your cunt as he readjusted your leg on his strong, muscular shoulder, deepening the achingly perfect angle even further and making your already shaky legs start to tremble with pleasure.
Charles took your sensitive clit between his teeth, gently and pressed his free hand that wasn't clutching your thigh to your stomach, balancing you as best he could as you uncontrollably bucked your hips, riding his perfectly flat tongue. You placed your smaller hand over his and arched into his face, trying to alleviate the knot building in the pit of your stomach. He felt so fucking good and looked even better when you did dare open your eyes, peering down into his sinful ones.
The small smirk that appeared on Charles’ dimpled cheeks when your gaze met his was enough to send you spiralling into a whimpering mess, unable to stop the loud moan that ripped from your constricted throat – you were getting closer with every single teasing stoke he gave you, his thick fingers fucking you into a blackout and you were losing it. He muffled a laugh and didn't relent one bit as you white knuckled his wrist, attempting to hold in the noises that were so close to escaping, jaw clenched.
"I wanna hear you, bella – let me hear you," Charles panted as he glanced up and continued to taunt you, “I want to hear you moaning for me like this for the rest of my fucking life.”
Even in your orgasmic haze, you furrowed your already rutted brows at his comment, head throw back, still whimpering, “Friends don’t say that to each other, Charles.” You breathed, gliding on his unrelenting fingers, his pace slowing as he processed your words.
Charles scoffed and pulled back from your pulsing core, eyes trained on yours as he pressed a sweet kiss to your thigh, voice hoarse. “I think we passed “just friends” about 20 fucks ago, baby. You don’t have to pretend when it’s just you and me.”
It took you a second until you nodded silently, agreeing that you didn’t need to keep the act up with him. You brushed your fingers that had been knotted in his thick, beautiful hair, down the sides of his glistening face, lips raw and looking like a mirage.
“I like it when it’s just you and me.”
If you blinked, you thought he may disappear from your vision but he made sure you knew he was real, kitten licking your sensitive bud and reassuring you that he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination.
“Me too.” He whispered.
It didn’t take long for Charles to resume his toe-curling assault, sending every nerve in your system into lockdown as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He’d put both of your feet on the ground, thighs spread as far as they go so you could ride his face, insisting that you came like that for him. The feeling of having every breath suppressed from his lungs while you let yourself go on his tongue, fingernails clawing at the skin on your thighs was worth the rush of blood to his brain. His face was beet-red, pupils blown out and he was achingly hard, scared he was going to blow in his pants like a prepubescent teen.
"Oh my fucking god, Charles," You moaned loudly as he reached up and pressed his palm firmly on your flushed chest, needing to feel your heart thumping under your skin, making him feel alive.
"I've got you."
"I'm – baby, I’m right there!" You cried out, head thrown back against the wall again as Charles eased you through your earth shattering high, panting and sweltering under his touch.
Loud moans echoed through the hotel room as he lapped up everything you had to give, holding you in place and making sure you were completely satisfied before removing his shaky fingers and pressing a couple of pecks to your reddening thighs – no doubt leaving bruises from his tight grip. You couldn’t wait to feel those small reminders of his touch in the morning. It took a good couple of seconds for your mind and body to float back down from the clouds above and god, it was a gorgeous sight when you did come to.
"You are so good at that," You breathed as Charles used your hips to drag himself up off the carpeted floor, hands still clutching your waist to also keep your knees from buckling. He knew you too well.
The sensation of his swollen lips kissing yours brought you back and without hesitation, you hooked your arms over his shoulders and deepened the kiss. His hands snaked around your lower back, bodies flush and you could finally feel how hard he was underneath his trousers.
Knowing Charles was that turned on from making you feel ethereal triggered a proud smirk to sweep across your flushed face, “Would you like some help with this, friend?” You teased, reaching down for the button on his pants, flicking it open with ease.
“It’s what friends are for, no?” He cockily replied before you clutched his stiff cock in your palm, causing him to gasp at the sensation.
“Absolutely would love your help – thank you very much,” Charles quickly added, desperate for your attention as he captured your lips in a rough kiss and nudged your body towards his messy bed.
“That’s what I thought,” You chuckled into the kiss, letting him cash in every single benefit he could imagine. All night long.
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oneforthemunny · 11 months
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the struggles we face |mafia!eddie munson x reader|
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prompt: based off of their first fight.
contains: 18+, mafia!Eddie, language, mentions of violence, blood, drugs, fighting, suggestive themes. angsty-ish with fluff at the end
Eddie leaned his head against the wooden door of your townhouse, bangs sweaty and matted against the skin of his forehead. He rapped his knuckles, bruised and bloodied, against the chipping white paint, waiting and hoping that you'd still be awake; that you'd open the door.
He gripped the bouquet in his hand hard, hard enough he was sure the stems would break, waiting a moment longer before he knocked again, a little louder this time.
Eddie could hear your footsteps, pounding little steps that got louder and louder as you got to the door. He heard the lock click and turn, perking up at the sound. It swung open to reveal you, in your little chemise night gown, silk and short. He knew you'd be wearing your matching silk panties underneath, mouth salivating at the thought. He'd bought you that very set, made you try it on when you got home. It was short and sweet, fit you perfectly and left him weak kneed at the sight of you. He longed to reach out and touch you, feel your fleshy skin underneath the smooth silk material, but the way your lips twisted, pursed in anger, hurt, he knew to keep his hands to himself.
"Hi, baby," Eddie muttered weakly, giving you a tiny smile.
He sounded tired, defeated, looked a little beat up. Normally, that would have you softening, relenting and pulling him inside so you could fuss over him. Not tonight.
"Don't," You snapped, not moving from your place in the doorway, manicured nail gripping the wood. "Don't you dare 'hi, baby' me when you were supposed to be here three hours ago!"
The shrill in your voice made his eyes pinch close, brows knitting together. His head was pounding, probably a result of the small cut over his eye.
It wasn't often he had to get involved in the dirty work, but with the more they brought in, the more people wanted it for their own. His guys had been ambushed during a drop, by a rival wanna be 'gang' who thought they were slick, thought they were tough until Eddie and his boys showed up. He'd give them credit, they didn't go down as easily as he thought. It had been a hard night, a lot of fighting and breaking to get their answers and supply back, but they did. At the expense of your date night.
Eddie sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I really am, I-I got caught up with some shit, baby, you know how it is." He looked at you, brown eyes rounding and pleading. He was never this soft with anyone else. "I had to take care of business."
"And you couldn't call?" You snapped, throwing your hand out.
Eddie blinked at you. "What? You wanted me to pick up the phone while I was beatin' the guy? C'mon, honey-"
"No," You huffed in annoyance. "You could've called me before you left. Or had someone call me, Eddie. I sat at the restaurant waiting for over an hour! I looked like an idiot!"
Eddie ran his free hand down his face, his rings reflecting in the glow of your porch light. You could see how his knuckles were split, dried blood that he'd tried to clean was still left around the swollen bone. "I'm sorry, ok? I'm really sorry, and-and I just... I had to take care of work things, alright? I'm sorry you sat there and wasted your time waiting for me."
You scoffed, rolling your eyes hard back into your head. You were fuming, irritated and hurt all in one. "I was so fuckin' scared, Eddie." You snapped. "I tried to call your house a million times-"
"-You did what?" Eddie's eyes snapped to yours harshly. "What have I told you? You don't call me, ever. If I don't call you, there's a reason. You calling my house could put you in danger, fuck-"
"-I was scared, Eddie." You snapped, eyes bulging at him. You leaned forward, past the threshold, hand still gripping the door angrily. "I thought something had happened to you. You didn't call me before, you left me there, no one's heard from you, and it was a long time. I was worried about you!" You threw your hands out.
Eddie swallowed hard, grinding his jaw lightly. "I'm fine." He quipped. "Don't be worryin' about me, alright?"
"That's fuckin' easy for you to say, when you're the one who's disappearing all the time. You're the one in danger." You snapped. "How would you feel if I just went MIA for a while? Didn't show up for a date, didn't answer your calls, just untraceable, huh? How would that feel?" You challenged.
Eddie's jaw clenched, fists balling by his sides. His heart squeezed and dropped at the thought, even the mention of it all made him feel sick, nauseous and head spinning.
"Stop." Eddie sneered. "Don't you fuckin' even think about it, or I'll-"
"-or what?" You spat, eyes narrowed. "How is that fair? You get to disappear all the time, and I don't get to know what you're doing? Maybe I should do the same to you. Give you a taste of your own medicine."
"Can you quit?" Eddie sighed, exasperated and on edge. The thoughts alone were making his head spin, but now, it was starting to feel to real. The familiar creeping of acid crept up his throat, making him swallow hard. His heart was hammering in his chest, uncomfortable hard and ringing in his ears.
"Just knock it off, alright? I told you I was taking care of business." Eddie huffed, eyes narrowed at you. "I had shit to handle. I'm very sorry I didn't get to come to date night."
Your lips twisted, pressing together in a tight line. "You don't get it." You sighed, shaking your head. "You just don't fucking get it."
"Get what?" Eddie's shoulders dropped, tired. Too tired for another fight. "Get what, baby? Just tell me."
"You never tell me anything!" You shrilled, throwing your hands out. "And I know, I know, it's dangerous or whatever, but I'm not asking for every little detail, Eddie. I just want to know that you're going to be late, or you're going to not be able to make it, that something came up, or-or that you're alive."
Your breath hitched in your throat, white knuckled grip on the door. Eddie felt his heart drop slightly at your hurt expression, wobbly lower lip and glassy eyes. "I need to know that you're ok." You whispered.
"Kitten, I didn't have the time to call-"
"No? But you had the time to get flowers?" You shot back, eyes flickering to the bouquet in his hands. "You had the time to clean yourself up? To switch cars, so that means you went home, and you still couldn't call me? Just to let me know that you're safe." 
Eddie swallowed hard, guilt settling deep in the pit of his stomach, heavy and uncomfortable. Your lip quivered, biting down on it to keep yourself from crying. You had to be strong, tough, even if you didn't want to be. Even if you wanted to let him in, and have him smother you in affection, win you over with tender touches and sweet promises.
"I'm sorry." Eddie whispered, eyes locking with yours. "I really am sorry."
You shook your head, turning so he wouldn't see your face crumble. You stepped back inside, shutting the door on Eddie.
"Honey, wait, please-" Eddie begged, moving his face towards the crack of the door before it shut entirely. He heard the lock click, panic rising in his chest. "Please, I'm sorry! I-I'll do better, ok? Please, just open the door, baby? Please, let's talk it out!" Eddie begged. He never begged, not even in the face of danger and fear.
The porch light flicked off, leaving Eddie standing in the dark, alone on your front porch step. His shoulder's dropped, breath catching before he let out a shuddering sigh, deep and broken.
He cursed, throwing the flowers angrily at his car, fists balling in anger. Angry at himself, angry at the stupid fuckers that had to ambush his guys, angry that he was dense enough not to call, angry at everything, every choice he made that led him to this moment. Most of all, he was angry that he'd hurt you. He'd kill anyone who made you sad like that, who made your face crumble and cry like that. He wasn't sure what to do when he was the one causing it.
Eddie sat in his car, waiting for hours, knee bouncing, smoking through his entire pack in the cold night air. His heart hammered and twisted with anticipation, in the hopes that you might come back out. He saw the curtains move a little after two am, he knew she was looking to see if he was still there. He perked up hoping that maybe, maybe she'd let him back in. She didn't.
Eddie fell asleep in his car, parked out on the side of the road, car turned off and arms wrapped around himself. He wasn't leaving until he talked to you, he couldn't. He had every intention of waiting up for you, waiting until the morning when you opened the curtains and saw he was still there. Waiting to return back to the porch and wait and beg for you to open up, but the sleep overtook his body, exhausted from the fight before and the fight with you, completely drained.
The sharp knocking of the glass against his window awoke him with a startle. He was already reaching for his glock, ready to flick the safety off and empty a clip if he had to, but there stood you, through the dark tint of the car in the morning light.
You looked like you hadn't slept much either, bags under your puffy, red rimmed eyes. He felt his stomach plunge again at your face, knowing that he was the reason you'd been crying.
Eddie opened the door slowly, scampering to stand in front of you. Your arms were crossed over your torso, wrapping around yourself like a shield, protective of yourself. "Are you going to stay out here all day? Seriously?" You huffed.
"I will." Eddie nodded, shutting his car door. "I'll stay out here as long as I need to, until you're ready to talk to me."
You rolled your eyes, heart squeezing at the admission. You knew he would, truly, too love struck and stubborn to not. You sighed heavily, shivering in the cold of the morning. "Just-Just come inside." Your shoulders dropped. "We can talk."
Eddie nodded, following you inside. Sitting at your little kitchen table across from you. You already had a cup of coffee for him, for yourself. You'd planned this. He didn't comment on that.
"I-I really am sorry-" Eddie started, but you held your hand up, silencing him.
"You've said that." You bit, eyes cold and fierce. There's a pause, the air between the two of you tight with tension. In any other scenario, Eddie would be the dominating, intimidating force of the conversation, looking down the slope of his nose towards his prey in front of him. Here, sitting at your little table, he felt weak, small, at your mercy entirely.
Eddie tapped his fingers nervously against the wood of the table. "I don't know what else you want me to say." He said truthfully, brown eyes rising to meet yours.
"I don't want you to say anything." You admitted with a small sigh. "I want you to listen, to hear me." Your eyes were rounded, pleading with him silently.
Eddie nodded slowly, spine straightening in his chair. You took a deep, cleansing, steadying breath. "Eddie, I know you can't always talk about work and what you do with me. I know you want to keep me safe and away from all of that, I do." You started slowly. "But, baby, I'm in this with you. I know what you do, Eddie. I know it's dangerous, and-and when you don't call me? That scares the shit out of me."
Eddie felt his heart twist and squeeze in his chest, the same guilty feeling pooling back, deep into the pit of his stomach. You looked down at your own hands.
"I'm not asking you to tell me all the details, or stop everything to call me and tell me every time you leave the house, but," You sighed heavily. "On nights where you know you might be late, or you are late, can you just call me? Let me know. I was embarrassed sitting at the restaurant, yes, but I was more worried about you. Thinking something happened or-or, fuck, I don't know... I was scared."
Your bottom lip quivered, tears pooling back into your eyes and you tried to blink them away. Eddie swallowed hard, the burn of his own tears in his throat. He never wanted to make you scared, never wanted to make you cry.
"I'm sorry," Eddie whispered, brown eyes soft and vulnerable when they met yours. "I know I've said it, but I mean it. I'm not used to having someone look out for me. I always do the looking out, and it's taken some getting used to." He admitted, twirling the rings on his fingers.
You nodded slowly, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. "'S alright." You muttered. "I know you didn't mean to. I didn't mean to lose my shit on you like that last night, I just-"
"-No, you should have." Eddie nodded. "Sometimes you need to lose your shit on me. Keep me in my place, kitten." Eddie grinned up at you.
You gave him a sweet smile back, pink blush dusting over your own cheeks. Eddie stood, hands on either side of your face, his nose nearly touching yours. You could see the cut on his eye, and it made your stomach flip again.
"I'll do better, I promise." Eddie whispered, his lips brushing over yours. "I'll try my best not to scare you anymore, and not to miss anymore date nights."
"You better." You whispered back, smiling against his gaze, warming you from the inside out.
"I'll make it up to you." Eddie moved his lips, bruised knuckles under your chin, tipping your head forward. "I promise, kitten."
You let him kiss you, sweet and slow, pillowy lips moving against yours, hands sliding up the silk of your gown, gripping onto your hips. You let him push you down the hall, towards your own tiny bedroom where he got on his knees between you to really make it up to you.
Eddie insisted on taking you out, later. A makeup dinner complete with a shopping trip beforehand. You told him he didn't have to buy you anything, that you'd be content with pizza and beer at home, but he wanted to. He lived to spoil you, to have you pressed up into the booth at the restaurant, kissing down your neck, lips trailing lightly down the chain of the new necklace he'd just bought you.
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clearlydiamondz · 7 months
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Can you do Erik with a bratty gf glasses wearing girl ????
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Rule #1: Refer to me as only daddy or sir
Rule #2: No panties
Rule #3: No cumming unless given you permission
Rule #3: No touching unless given permission
Rule #4: Always be honest
Rule #5: Don't be a Brat, Punishment will meet actions
(Y/N) sadly looked at Erik as he got ready for work. She knew that he was going to be busy all day for his 12 hour shift, probably not being able to see her for the rest of the day but that didn't matter. She needed him. She was mad at herself for being tired when she came over. Her classes had her stuck in her laptop and books, so as she soon as she saw his bed she was out like a light.
Erik didn't mind though, he knew that (Y/N) was working hard to become a RN, and he also knew that she needed her rest. Matter of fact, he needed her to have all her rest for Spring Break that was ahead. He was determined to use her to his content, (obviously with her consent) and he needed her to have all her rest. He took off the entire week just to spend time with her. This was the last day.
"Don't look at me like that." he told her. Her pouting, and her eyes enhanced by the glasses made him want to just call out and fuck her senseless now.
"I just miss you. I haven't had you in what.. two weeks?" she complained. He closed his eyes sighing. The way this girl was so persuasive didn't help his need for her. He grabbed her by his cheeks making her look at him. "Please daddy, I just want to put my mouth on it. Two minutes, please?" she pouted again. His squeeze tightened as her glasses moved on her face, being crooked. She fixed her glasses by pushing them with her middle finger in the middle.
"Be a good girl, okay? Daddy will take care of you when he gets home if your good okay? We will go to one of your favorite restaurants, I promise." he told her grabbing his coat and his lunch. He was dreading going into his 12-hour shift at the hospital as a neuro-surgeon.
The two of them met at a medical convention in L.A almost a year ago. Her school decided to do a field trip for all medical students to be able to have a chance of networking. He was a speaker at the convention, and immediately she caught his eye. She was in the front row, taking notes with her iPad with her red zee-loo framed glasses. She asked the most questions, and was the most entuned in the conversation. Obviously, a lot of the girl students were asking questions about him personally because of how good looking he was. (Y/N) was different, she wanted to get all of the details on the health field.
Now, here they are almost a year later, and Erik has have her heart and he has hers. Helping her with her studies, letting have a place to lay her head when she didn't want to be with her roommates.
Her pouting face was now angry, Erik automatically realized it. "Fix your face." he gave her a kiss on the lips as she rolled her eyes. Luckily, he didn't see it as he turned around walking to the door. "Break a rule and your ass is mine! Daddy loves you!" he yelled and he was out the door. She turned around looking at his empty apartment.
12 fucking hours.
She was on hour 8 and she did everything she could think off. She turned in some last minutes assignments, did the laundry, clean out his refrigerator, and cleaned up the entire apartment. She still had time to herself, so she decided to have a little fun. She'll start of small.
Recently just getting out the show, she sat in front of his wide body mirror taking pictures of herself. Some were innocent, some were not so innocent.
Erik sat down exhausted from the five hour surgery of a a traumatic car crash. Grabbing his phone, he saw that their was a few text messages from his dear (Y/N) grabbing it. Opening the text, he immediately put it back to his chest as he saw glimpses of what she was doing.
He turned around to make sure that there was no one staring from behind, before lowering his brightness and looking at the photos. "My God..." he whispered to himself.
There she took an innocent looking picture on the bed with nothing on. He could even see in the picture how she sat where her thighs and ass making her thickness more provident. The only piece of clothing (more like accessory) was those same red framed glasses that made him fall in love even more. The things he wanted to make her do was dangerous.
The next photo was her sitting on the floor, leaned against the bed with her spreading her pussy wide enough for him to see but not enough to see everything. The hints of red on her toes, on her fingers, and her glasses was something that was sending him on edge, especially with her dark skin.
Erik : Did I not tell you to touch yourself.. you tryna get that ass spanked I see.
(Y/N): Daddy I haven't touched myself, I just sent you pictures.
(Y/N): But it's so hard, can I play with one of your pillows daddy?
(Y/N): Technically I wouldn't be touching myself...
Erik : No little girl, what the fuck did I tell you
It was a minute before he received a response. He assumed she was upset with him for denying her a rightfully and much needed orgasm but he didn't care.
He was sadly mistaken.
There in their text thread, was a video of her riding one of his pillows, nipples hard, and clitoris grinding against the pillow. She was definitely in need of a orgasm with the way her clit was swollen and moving against the pillow.
Her eyes was to the back as she continued winding her hips, gripping onto the pillow with one hand and playing with her titties on the other hand.
With his eye twitching, his dick damn near pulsating, he knew he couldn't finish the rest of the shift.
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mikaleialt · 3 months
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Coming Back to You | Minah Lee
Minah Lee x Reader
Cw: angst, smut, fluff. MDNI. MERRY CHRISTMAS @taruusmoon. <3, also I was waiting for Minah to poat the perfect picture for this pic and she finally did, look at how fucking hot she is!!!! And happy birthday to my girl Minah Lee.
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"I'm just saying that I wish you could make time for me, even for just 10 minutes!"
Here you are again, you've been arguing with your girlfriend, Minah for the nth time this week. You two were supposed to be on a date today, but she ditched you last second because she "forgot" that her team had a scheduled meeting earlier on the same time of your dinner reservation at this restaurant.
Now you're both here in your apartment, 4 am in the morning, fighting like a wedded couple once again. Minah just got back from their "meeting" which you found out that is actually a party from the fact that your girlfriend reeks of alcohol.
"Babe, you know that we've been busy with the show right? We all need to be better, do you hear what people call us? We weren't even acknowledged by the other contestants, they were just calling us 'Bada and her students'." You scoff at your girlfriend's alibi, seriously you can't even comprehend how she could say that while slurring over her words, completely obvious that she is drunk.
"You don't have time? YOU DON'T TIME?" You couldn't contain your anger anymore, "YOU DON'T HAVE FUCKING TIME, BUT YOU HAVE TIME TO GO DRINKING AND PARTYING WHILE I WAS WAITING AT THE RESTAURANT FOR 2 FUCKING HOURS?!" Tears are streaming down your cheeks, when Minah sees this, something inside her snaps almost like her system sobers up immediately.
"Baby I—" you cut her off "Let’s break up" You said it, you finally said it.
You didn't let Minah say anything else as you already walked out off your apartment, leaving her behind.
That was 4 months ago, you moved back to your parents in Busan after your break up, you didn't even bother going back to your apartment for your things, knowing that you're just going to see Minah once again.
2
But fate has a different plan for you. You've blocked Minah on every single social media you have, and even her phone number, but you're still somehow in touch with her leader, Bada as she is also your dance mentor. So when you received a text from her, inviting you to attend the On the Stage: Busan concert of SWF 2, your mind is split in two.
You balanced out the pros and cons of your options: You want to go to show your support to your dance teacher, but you'll see your ex again; but you can go there and show that you hold no ill will towards her, but you are also not ready to talk to her again.
You sighed in frustration as you picked up your phone and typed in your response, you just hope that you won't regret this later on.
Now here you are, sitting amongst the crowd as the teams of Street Women Fighter 2 performs on stage. You are thankful because you get to watch the performance live and you didn't get to see Minah for the most part, trying to focus on other dancers like the international crew, Jam Republic and Tsubakill, and a some dancers you're close with like Harimu from 1Million and JJ from Deep 'N Dap.
You were screaming, cheering on everyone's performance, but that is until one of the audiences' most awaited performance: Bebe's Global Artist Performance.
Cockiness (I like it) by Rihanna started playing as the stage lights illuminated the 7 girls on the center of the stage, they were all wearing a burlesque inspired outfit which really suited each one of them. You looked at the big screen and the camera immediately focuses on the person you've been wanting to avoid the most
Minah did her iconic intro once the music start and everyone around screams. You wanted to divert your focus on the other members but after seeing your hot ex girlfriend dance in that outfit, you felt your heart flutter for the first time again, almost forgetting the fact that you guys broke up a few months ago.
Not too long, the concert then concluded, all the SWF 2 teams says their goodbye to the audience and finally made their way to each to their changing rooms.
As you are on your way out of the arena, your phone buzzes from your pocket, indicating you received a text message. You fished out your phone and seeing the notification was from Bada
"There's an after party tonight, wanna come?"
You are in the same situation again as when you are invited by Bada to attend the concert. You balanced out your options once again. With the concert only you can see Minah, but you can't interact with each other which you are grateful for, but going to the after party would mean that you will be seeing and interacting with your ex-girlfriend, and that is too much for you.
You were about to type in your answer, when a familiar voice calls out to your name.
"Y/N~!" You looked at the direction where you heard the voice and saw the tall woman running towards you.
"Unnie I—" before you could even say anything she immediately pulled you to the van where the rest of team Bebe is already at, making you seat next to Lusher who is sitting next to Minah. Guess you don't really have a choice.
Just great. You thought to yourself, the rest of the Bebe girls are all talking to each other with you occasionally joining in but you couldn't really say anything else, not when you literally feel the presence of Minah near you. You are thankful enough that Lusher is seated between the two of you.
Or so you thought...
"Y/n-ie can we switch seats, I don't like seating in the middle" You looked at the poor Lusher, she's getting pale due to the uncomfortable situation. Reluctantly you let her switch seats with you, but as soon as you sat down once again, your body tenses up as soon as you brushed your arm against Minah.
She looks at you and offered a bittersweet smile before looking outside the window, minding her own business. The light from the streetlights outside cascades on Minah features, you can't help but stare at her, her now black hair that used to be dyed orange suits her better, and you can see that she wears a subtle dark eye makeup, similar to the make up she wore on their performance.
You were in a trance as you stare at her until you heard snickering behind you, Kyma, Che-Che and Sowoen were right behind you, laughing at how awestruck you are at Minah. Minah heard this also and looks at you before looking at the girls at the back.
The giggling stops as you all arrived at the party venue, the rest of the teams are inside already. Once you got in, you noticed that the members from the other teams also have their own plus one, some are their close friends, while some seems like their partners as you noticed Babysleek’s husband is also here.
The party went on, people drinks and get drunk, some dances and grinds to each other on the dance floor, and soon you too finally let loose and starts partying.
It was way past midnight now and the party is still at its peak, ‘though some are already passed out aka mostly the youngest of each team except for Haechi and Rena who are still partying like wild animals on the dance floor. You however starts to gets dizzy as the song Meddle About by Chase Atlantic blasted on the speakers, the alcohol finally getting through your systems as you now feel quite high from drunkenness. Nevertheless, you still kept dancing on the dance, grinding on the person you now failed to recognize due to the alcohol.
Unbeknownst to you the girl you are shaking your ass on is none other than Minah, her hands are on your waist as she guides your hips to match her rhythm. “Fucking hell, Y/n you’re driving me crazy” she whispers against your ear. Only then do you recognize the voice but instead of flinching away, which what you would probably do if only you were sober, you lean in more to her touch.
Your back against her chest, as you sway your hips against hers, her hands loosely wrapped around your waist while your left hand sat above it, meanwhile your other hand is reaching for her face, trying to keep her head close to yours as she whispers sweet nothings to you.
“You are so fucking beautiful…” She takes in your scent as she presses her lips on your neck before dragging her tongue against your skin. An inappropriate sound escapes from your lips and you can feel your ex-girlfriend smirks against your neck as soon as she heard it.
Her hands traveled down to your pants and started touching hour aching pussy through it. You leaned your head back more, you almost forgot that you two are still in the middle of the dance floor, thankfully everyone is drunk enough to simply ignore what you two are doing.
~~~
“Fuck…taste so good”
Here you are now, your pants now draped below your knees as you sat on the bathroom’s sink, becoming a moaning mess as your ex-girlfriend dives in between your soaking wet cunt. Tongue deep inside you accompanied by two of her fingers, simultaneously thrusting in and out of you.
“M-Minah f—uck” You couldn’t contain your moans, the effects of the alcohol finally subsided, you are now more sober than you were earlier, but now you are high on pleasure as you are about to reach your orgasm.
“Taste so fucking good. I miss this pussy of yours” Minah muttered against your folds “did you missed getting eaten out like this baby?” she dives right back in and you replied with only a pornographic moan, which only encourage Minah more.
“Such a slut for me. Tell me did you regret breaking up with me?” Minah said as she thrust her fingers inside you in a fast pace. You are already fucked out of your mind, couldn’t even construct a proper sentence as you nod your head vigorously.
“Use your words, Y/n” she looks directly at you eyes, and you did the same. You saw that behind the lust in her eyes lays a sense of hopefulness, hoping that you are telling the truth.
“Yes—YES FUCK! I miss you so much, I’m sorry I left you—ack” You are cumming, you really are close. Minah thrusted her fingers faster, while she busied her mouth once again on sucking your clit. Soon a wave of pleasure gushes on your nerves. Your breathe staggers as your legs shakes from the orgasm, your juices sprayed on Minah’s face, god she even managed to make you squirt. Minah stood up from her position and went up to kiss you which you willingly accepts.
“Please give me another chance, Y/n… I promise I’ll be better, I’ll never leave you alone again.” You saw the sincerity on her eyes and you answered her by pulling her again for a kiss.
Outside the bathroom is a poor Tatter who has been wanting to go to the bathroom for quite some time now, only to be welcomed by the moans of her best friends.
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A/n: there you go @taruusmoon, I figured to just post it on Minah’s birthday instead but this also serves as your late Christmas present hope you liked it <3
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sociopathicartist · 2 months
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Sans x Reader (oneshot)
‘BreakfastCombo’
“so… how did the two of you meet anyways?” Fell asked, folding and unfolding the napkin he grabbed with his breakfast.
You were at a hotel (yes, all 7 of you, including you) in Colorado, staying there for the day until you drove down to the ski lodge tomorrow morning. Originally the plan was to leave today, but it started snowing. Snowing bad.
“Sans and I?” You questioned, not sure what he was referring to. There were 6 other skeletons.
He nodded, looking back to see his brother trying to make a plate of food with the hardly salvageable hotel breakfast buffet. “who else? m’ curious. he’s talked about you since the first day we showed up here.”
Hm. You sighed, staring down at the wooden table. God, how did you meet Sans? That was a long story that happened a really long time ago.
“Uhhh, I could tell you. Whydda ask?”
“m’ just wondering. s’ not like any of us had a human best friend like you at home. s’ weird seeing him like this.” He poked at the dry biscuit with his fork, a small snarl on his teeth.
Huh. No you in their AU’s? Interesting.
You tapped your fingers on the desk, thinking back to when you two did meet. Stars, it feels like forever ago.
“Technically,” You started. “I met Papyrus first. I was at Muffet’s and he saw me struggling with the morning crossword. He helped me finish it, promptly suggesting afterward that I try Junior Jumble instead. We just kinda became friends that morning and kept in close contact. I knew Papyrus for at least four months before I ever met Sans. It’s odd.”
“hm? whyssit odd?” Fell slurred his words together like usual, a bad habit of his.
“Well, you know.” You took a bite of your toast, swallowing down the hardly edible substance. “Everyone always meets Sans first. Before Papyrus trained with Undyne, Sans worked for her at the sentry station. Before Alphys met Papyrus, Sans ran into her in hotland and they’d watch anime together sometimes. Before Papyrus met Toriel, Sans would tell her jokes through the door. Everyone always met Sans first, but I didn’t. I didn’t even know the guy existed for a hot minute.”
“THIS FOOD IS DISGRACEFUL.” Edge suddenly appeared next to the two of you, startling you a bit. His arms were folded angrily. “I WILL GO GATHER BLUE AND DISCUSS ABOUT A POSSIBLE SHORT DRIVE TO A DINER SOMEWHERE.”
“Isn’t the whole point of staying at the hotel today because we can’t drive in the snow?” 7 people in one car during a snowstorm was a tad bit wild, especially just for some food.
“THE LODGING IS A 3 HOUR DRIVE. RESTAURANTS ARE CLOSER BY. I’M SURE THIS IS NOT HOW YOU WANT TO EAT THE ENTIRE DAY.”
Fell shrugged, not seeming to care about the whole ordeal. “room service food is way nummier. could jus’ order that, idk.”
Edge scoffed at his brother. “NEVER SAY ‘I.D.K.’ OUTLOUD EVER AGAIN.” He walked away, presumably to go grab Blue who was oddly still asleep.
“Anyways. We met for the first time when Papyrus invited me over for his birthday. I had already met Undyne and Alphys before, so there weren’t too many faces at his party that I didn’t recognize. I suppose Papyrus had talked about me to Sans before because I didn’t introduce myself and he just kinda… Stared at me the whole time.”
“that’s weird. prolly thought you were smokin’ hot and got nervous.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Again, anyways. I figured I’d break the ice, so when Paps was opening gifts I sat by Sans and cracked a birthday joke and his whole face just lit up. I knew that the guy loved jokes, but I didn’t expect him to crack one-liners and puns at me for the rest of the night.”
You trailed off in your words, the memory playing vividly in your head. After the party you had gone home and decided to scroll through some photos you’d taken earlier, deleting many that Undyne and Alphys spammed on your phone when you had left it unintended. You saved some photos and went to send them to the pair, but saw a new contact added. You clicked on it, seeing the only message being an awful one-liner.
(—-,—-,——) - 9:12 pm - why did the cell phone bring a sweater to the party
(—-,—-,——) - 9:12 pm - it didn’t want to get a cold signal. lol.
(—-,—-,——) - 9:15 pm - it’s cold. stay warm on your way home.
Ah. You must have given Sans your number at some point during the party. Who else would send these horrible puns?
10:05 pm- LMAO. I made it home safe, don’t worry.
You two ended up texting on and off for about an hour before retreating to bed.
A few days later you ended up having a shitty day at work. Unlike your normal tendency to bottle things up, even to your best friend, Papyrus, you wanted to spill your feelings... You called Undyne and Alphys. No answer. Papyrus was busy with Mettaton today, so both those options were out. Toriel answered but said she was at the park with Frisk. You didn't want to impose and passed off your call as a simple check-in. BP would only bring more down since he wasn’t the best at comforting, so you were led to your last option.
You rang the number and heard the pickup tone.
“hey?”
“Hi! Sorry, I’ve just had a long day and wanted to talk.”
You heard a soft sigh before a response. “go on. i’m not busy.”
“you called for how long?” Fell gave a bit of a surprised look to you.
“7 hours! I know. After I told him about my shitty day he ended up telling me about his equally awful one. I don’t know, we just talked.”
Fell stared at you for a moment, the end of his phalange picking at his gold tooth. You raised an eyebrow.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” You battered.
“no, no. keep talkin’.”
After the two of you ended the call, you had asked to call the next day.
So you called the day after that.
And the day after that.
And the day after that one.
It took a long time for you to notice how close you and Sans had become. Papyrus was the realization moment for you.
“HUMAN, I MUST SAY THAT YOU ARE HAVING A GREAT INFLUENCE ON SANS.”
You looked up to Papyrus, setting your menu down on the booth table. “What?”
“HE HAS BEEN MORE ACTIVE NOW THAT HE IS TALKING TO YOU SO MUCH. I MUST SAY, I AM VERY HAPPY WITH THIS DEVELOPMENT!”
“Oh, uhm…” You took a sip of your water, the ice-cold temperature giving the roof of your mouth a bit of a cold shock. “Thanks.”
You did feel a bit bad at the fact that you were spending a bit more time with Sans over Papyrus, your best friend, but he was occupied with Mettaton and didn’t mind much. The two brothers still ate up a large portion of your time.
For Sans’ birthday, you chose to knit him a blanket. You had corrected him several times that it was knitting, not crochet, but now you were convinced that the smirk on his face when you corrected him meant he knew the difference and just said crochet to patronize you.
Although he tried to avoid you from coming into his room, mostly because it was messy and unfurnished, you had caught glimpses of it from time to time. A big ringer you noticed was the lack of a proper blanket in his room. While the temperature didn’t bother him much due to the lack of skin, you still didn’t like the idea of him being without a blanket at night.
You had been sneaky with it, casually asking him to go on a shopping spree with you and stopping at the yarn store on your way home. While you picked out your yarn for a separate project, you watched to see which yarns he liked. It was easy to tell, if he liked the color of it he’d pick it up and see if he liked the feeling. If approved, he’d hold onto it for a few moments before putting it back up. You kept note of which ones he liked and went back to the store alone the next day, picking out enough yarn of the two colors he was amused by.
It turned out as a soft blue blanket. The main yarn was a sky blue that was silky and cold to the touch paired with a dark blue crushed velvet that wrapped as a border. It took about two weeks of knitting in all your free time to finish it, completed by being folded nicely and wrapped up in paper.
After the small party you and your friends planned for him, you chose to give him your gift alone.
Well, not alone. You had attached a letter you wrote for him to the gift and placed the blanket on his mattress, knowing he’d see it later. You were correct, receiving a text from him later thanking you for the gift.
He seemed to open up to you a lot more after that.
“Sooooo, the rest is history.” You tossed the paper plate (still full of gross food) into the trash.
“wow. wowwowwowwowwow.” Fell shook his skull. “boring story.”
You scoffed at him, heading into the elevators as he followed beside you. “Yak it up. You asked. What did you expect, hm?”
He shrugged, pressing your floor number once you were in the elevator. “dunno. sounds like you two were going to shack or somethin’.”
“Fell, you perv! Nothing is going on between him and me.”
“yeahhhh, alright sweetheart.”
You scowled at him, breaking separate ways once you were out of the elevator and going to your hotel room.
You were lucky. Being the 7th member of the ‘friend/family’ group meant you were the odd one out, and also the only female. (ignore if you’re gender-neutral) If there was ever a situation like this where you all had to stay in rooms, you always got your own while all the individual brothers shared theirs. You can only imagine the chaos breaking out between Edge and Fell, cooped up in that tiny room together.
Your bed was cold and plush when you laid down on it, all made up by the hotel cleaning service. You stared up at the ceiling, your hands over your stomach. There wasn’t anything going on between you two, right?
Ugh. It was only 8:30 am, so most everyone was still asleep except the malicious duo, that was unless Edge successfully woke up Blue. You couldn’t just go back to sleep either. All the talking and walking around made your sleepiness wear off, so you were just a bit stuck. You grabbed your phone, choosing to mindlessly scroll on Pinterest.
You wouldn’t make a move on Sans since you were almost 100% positive that not only was he not interested in you, but that he wasn’t interested in a relationship at all. Every time you brought up the subject he just got dodgy, so you just chose to bury any feelings you had deep down so that you wouldn’t risk the friendship and be a hopeless romantic over some guy.
But now?
Ugggggh. Your feelings were all in a wad. Fell had successfully just made things complicated. He may be a bit of a punk sometimes, but he wouldn’t say something like that to you if he didn’t think you two were interested in each other. Even though he’s a bit rougher around the edges, he still is a Sans. He has the same morals and motivations similar to Classic, unlike Blue on the other hand. He would be your next best dig at getting into Sans’ thoughts since asking him directly was too risky.
You could ask Papyrus, but Papyrus is loyal to keeping his word. You heavily admired it and used his loyalty as a bit of a role model for yourself, but unfortunately, that meant that going to him for an inside scoop meant you’d have to be tricky with your words. Sure, he wouldn’t let you go in completely blind since you were his best friend. If he knew of your little crush he definitely wouldn’t let you get heartbroken, and would give indirect suggestions that technically don’t break his loyalty.
You chose your next best option.
8:34 - u up?
8:35 - i wanna ask u smthn.
8:39- did u go back to sleep ?
8:41 - evil sans (satan) - what's up
8:42 - do u think he likes me?
8:42 - don’t make fun
8:43 - evil sans (satan) - jfc, you woke me up for this?
8:43 - evil sans (satan) - im going back 2 sleep
8:44 - fell pleeeease:(:(:(
8:45- evil sans (satan) - im not sure. he doesn’t talk about that stuff to me. he does act interested in u though, esp compared to how he acts around everyone else.
Mh. You typed and sent a short thanks to him, feeling pretty satisfied with what new information you’ve learned.
You shut your phone off, sighing and tossing it beside you. If you were back home, you’d go and talk to Toriel about this. She’s always so nice and comforting to talk to. Granted, Alphys and Undyne were also good options, but they had a bit of a hard time keeping a secret in relation to crushes. You’d be teased high to no end. Mettaton would be nice to talk to, you could have a day with facemasks, mani-pedis, and gossip.
But you weren’t home, were you? So… how to pass the time…
The time went by slowly. It wasn’t until about 10 am that Blue and Stretch woke up, begrudging you to hang out with them downstairs in the hotel lounge. Since you already had plans to take a short drive to get food, eating at the hotel wasn’t really on the table. Blue dragged you and Edge to do one of the community puzzles the hotel had while Stretch and Fell lounged in chairs, occupied on their phones.
It didn’t take long for Sans and Papyrus, the iconic duo, to show up in the lobby. The short skeleton stood behind you, ruffling your hair a bit while Papyrus rambled on about why they were up so late.
“HORRIBLE. JUST HORRIBLE. WE HAVE BEEN UP FOR THE PAST HOUR AND I HAVE WASTED 30 MINUTES JUST DRAGGING HIM OUT OF BED!” Papyrus complained, some snickers being heard from Stretch about the situation.
“I’m sorry, Papyrus.” You tried to console him, elbowing Sans in the ribcage for his older brother's havoc. “When we get to the ski lodge tomorrow we’ll have our own room.”
Sans nodded, feigning a hurt expression from your elbow jab. “sorry bro. i really gotta work on my self o-bed-ience.”
Several groans were heard, and Fell waved Sans off. “boring, lazy, sloppy. you’ve been lacking on your puns recently.”
Blue connected another puzzle piece, a small look of pride and victory on his face. “I SUGGEST YOU CHANGE OUT OF YOUR PYJAMAS, LAZY ME. WE ARE GOING OUT TO EAT.”
Papyrus’ attention was caught. “GOING OUT? I THOUGHT IT WAS TOO SNOWY.”
“FOR A 3 HOUR DRIVE, YES.” Edge corrected. “BUT THIS DINER IS ONLY 5 MINUTES AWAY AND SEEMS TO SERVE EDIBLE BREAKFAST OPTIONS.”
“hmmm. who’s gonna drive, again?” Stretch eyed everyone in the group. None of you preferred driving.
Papyrus’ face changed to fear, quickly holding up his hand to his nasal socket. “NOES-GOES!”
The crowd of you went wild, the once tired and calm group now screaming “noes goes” while raising their hand. A few people in the lounge looked over at you, trying to see what was disturbing the peace.
Blue groaned once he realized he yelled out last. “WHY DO I ALWAYS LOSE AT NOES-GOES?! I SWEAR, YOU ASSHOLES ONLY PICK IT BECAUSE IT IS THE ONE GAME I AM BAD AT.”
“sorry, bro.” Stretch showed a half-hearted sympathetic look. “we don’t make the rules.
“Why don’t we put up the puzzle and head out then? There’s nothing wrong with being in your pyjamas. It’s not like we know anyone here.” You gestured to your lazy pyjama outfit, vouching a bit for Sans.
“see? they get it.” Sans commented, looking at you with a lazy grin.
“I SUPPOSE IT’S OKAY… BUT JUST FOR TODAY.”
The drive was chaos.
Somehow just five minutes in the car leads to sibling fights, Blue yelling at everyone to shut up so that he can focus on driving, Sans pestering Papyrus with puns and Fell showing you TikToks on your phone that he found funny. You never got a break from them.
Blue managed to park the car with several harasses from Edge about how “HE NEEDS A CAR SEAT TO EVEN LOOK OUT THE WINDSHIELD PROPERLY.” The snow was still relentless, just occurring to you that Blue was right and you should have not gone out in your pyjamas. While the others didn’t have skin and weren’t temperature-bothered, you were. You kept trying to rush them all into the diner as quickly as possible.
“I RECALL THAT YOU WERE THE ONE WANTING TO STAY IN YOUR PYJAMAS.” Edge teased you, watching as you sat down and tried to conserve your warmth by wrapping your arms around your waist.
You grabbed one of the menus, glaring at him. “I didn’t realize how cold I’d be. Gimmie a break, man.”
You loved him, but he could be a tad annoying sometimes. Quite frankly all of them got on your nerves now and then.
Food items, Food items… Hashbrowns, some ��Waffle Topple’ special for 9.99. Your stomach grumbled at all the options.
“still cold?” Sans’ familiar voice rang out.
You looked down at him, seeing that he was sitting next to you. Odd, usually Papyrus or Stretch sat by you.
Checking around the table, you saw the chatter amongst the other skeletons. The two of you would be able to talk one one-on-one for a few minutes before any interruptions.
“A bit. It’s not my fault it’s still cold in here.” You scanned over the menu again. “Whatcha gonna get?”
“not sure.” Sans shrugged, tapping his phalanges on the menu. “all of these options are pretty eggstraordinary.”
“Sans.”
“but i think the breakfast combo looks grape.”
You crossed your arms, watching as his amused expression developed. “I’m not doing it. It’s too early.”
“what?” Sans looked over to you. “you got something to hash out with me?”
“10 am. 10.”
“just one? then i’ll quit.” Sans pleaded. “don’t grit your teeth at my puns.”
You groaned in annoyance, hiding your face behind your menu and peeking at him. “Uhmmmm. I’m really tired. I don’t think I can mustard up any good puns.”
Sans stared at you for a few seconds, a bit of a confused and enticed expression. “wow. mustard isn’t even a breakfast food.”
“You didn’t say it had to be.”
“didn’t i? i thought it was obvious with the way my puns were roll-ing.”
“I thought you said you’d quit.”
“i know.” Sans winked, setting his menu back on the table and shrugging off his jacket.
He pulled you in by your shoulders, wrapping his jacket around you to provide a layer of warmth.
You smiled softly, your cheeks heating up a bit since he got so close. Breathe. “Aw. for me? Your musty ketchup jacket?”
Sans brushed you off, his permanent smile twinging upward a bit more. “whaaattt? diddya think i’d give you the cold shoulder?”
You elbowed his arm, pretending to be annoyed despite enjoying his puns. It was a bit impressive how witty he was. You wrapped the jacket around you a bit tighter, not seeing the way Sans was busy staring at you.
“Whatcha gonna order, Papyrus?” Your voice rang soft to him.
Papyrus looked up to you, beginning to ramble about all the options they had, Blue occasionally piping in to debate on which one was best. You glanced over to Sans while listening to them babble, catching a glance of him before he quickly looked away.
You’d tell him soon, one day.
first one shot upload:3 idk if i should make it a two part or not? thanks for reading <3
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spicyspiders · 15 days
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I was thinking of a Steve Rogers x MReader cute fic of them meeting at a fair ground. Maybe reader is having a bad and traumatic date and Steve rescues him after seeing reader so uncomfortable. Steve walks him home and ask if he can be his date for the fair the next day, being all fluffy and stuff, ending with Steve walking reader back home the next night again and ending the date with a kiss that turns kinda spicy 😏 thinking maybe a suggestive ending with Dom Steve 🤭🤭
There isn't smut in this, but it is suggestive at the end.
“You wanna go do something else? This is fucking lame,” your date says after you’ve barely stepped into the tent. It was warm in the tent, which was much better than how it felt outside, so no, you didn’t want to go outside and do something else. 
You were the one who had chosen the date, and you thought he would enjoy a nice night at the fair, but you were wrong. All night, he was dismissive of everything you tried to do to show him a good time, and it had started to get on your nerves a few attractions ago. 
“Can’t we stay inside for a little bit? It’s pretty cold out there,” you asked. You could admit that yes, it was cold, which could easily sour the mood, but you just wanted him to give it a chance. 
“You can,” he snapped, “I’m not,” and with those harsh words, he was out of the tent and back into the cold night air. 
Not only did the tone of his words make you flinch, but they also made the attraction that you had stepped into the tent to see stop laying their fists into the punching bag they were really giving it to. 
“You okay?” He asked softly, placing one hand on the bag to stop it from swinging. 
“Yeah,” you tried to force a laugh to break the tension, but it didn’t sound right, “sorry you had to see that. I guess I’m not good at picking dates.”
“He seemed like a real piece of work,” the man responded before he started punching the bag again. There was already a pile on the floor, near the sign with a name on it. Steve it said, and above it was a drawn portrait of the man up on the small stage punching the bag in front of him. 
“Yeah. Our first date wasn’t too good either now that I think about it,” the man had been 30 minutes late to get dinner, and he was the one who had chosen the restaurant. That should have been your sign, but you had always been one to give second chances. Then he had seemingly forgotten his wallet, which should have been your second sign, but after all, the third time’s the charm. Or something like that. 
Steve continued punching the bag and you watched on just to see how long he could go. His stamina was already impressive just by looking at how he’s barely broken a sweat, making you wonder just how long he could go. 
You jumped when Steve landed a punch harder than the last and the bag flew off the hook to join the pile with the other. “Woah,” you said quietly. 
“Want me to go catch him?” Steve asks. He steps off the stage and gets close enough that you can smell how clean he smells. Only a hint of musk hits your nose, impressing you further with how the fair has been open for a few hours now. “I could use a live target.”
Your brows shoot up and your eyes go wide, but the other man chuckles in response. “I’m joking,” Steve says, holding his hands up. 
“I should probably go try and catch him,” not that you really wanted to, but Steve getting this close to you had you go from feeling warm to hot. Some cool, fresh air would probably do you good. 
“Suit yourself,” Steve says before he steps away with a smirk. He returns to the stage with another bag and places it onto the hook. Before you leave the tent, you can’t help but watch for a minute or two, or three, or four the way Steve’s muscles move as he starts punching the bag again. 
You place a tip in the jar with the worker that stands in front of the tint. They smile gratefully at you, one that you return. You grab one of the flyers beside the jar that advertises the tent you were just in. Steve the Strongman the flyer reads at the top, and below it is the same portrait on the sign inside. 
By the time you had walked around the fair trying to find your date, the cold of the night had seeped under your clothes. You couldn’t find the man and stopped your search with a sigh. It was cold enough to see it in front of you. You pulled out your phone and another sigh left your body when your phone lit up to a blank screen. At least you stopped in front of a food stand, maybe it could help warm you up. 
Sometime later, after you were full of overpriced fair food, you heard a familiar voice behind you, “mind if I join you?” 
You turn to face Steve, a brown leather jacket now disappointingly overtop his upper body. “Sure,” gesturing to the other seat at the picnic table you sat at with a small smile. 
“Actually,” Steve said as he glanced around, “the night’s winding down. Can I walk you home?” He asks, holding a hand out. 
His warm fingers wrap around yours when you take his hand, “sorry if my hand is cold,” you say after you’ve thrown your trash away, careful not to accidentally throw Steve’s flyer away with it. 
“I don’t mind,” he responds as he squeezes your hand. His hand felt like you were holding a cup of freshly brewed coffee, you were sure it was going to warm up quickly. “I’m guessing he left?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” Steve responds softly, his thumb running softly across your skin. 
“It’s fine,” you were disappointed, but more so in the effort you put into the night. Though, the payoff of having Steve walk you homemade that bitter feeling hurt less. 
“So,” you began as you walked through the grounds to the exit, “how long have you been doing this?”
“Not long,” Steve responds, “it started with portraits, and then I was asked to become the fair’s strongman attraction. It helps that they don’t mind all of the punching bags I go through, the old gym I went to though is a different story.”
“You drew this?” You asked, holding up his flyer. 
Steve laughed as he looked at the flyer, “I drew all of the portraits on the signs for the attractions. This was just supposed to be a one-time thing when the original strongman got sick.”
“Why didn’t he come back?” You asked. Maybe Steve used him as a real-life target, like he asked if he needed you to do earlier. 
“I heard he’s an art model now,” Steve says as you leave the fairgrounds and step onto the sidewalk. 
“Good for him. Are you thinking about following in his footsteps?” You ask with a smirk.
Steve lets out a loud laugh, “doubt it,” he goes quiet for a moment before speaking again, “but if you need some help with sketching anatomy, I’m sure we could work something out.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’ll even give you a discount because you kept my flyer.”
Steve makes the usual long and boring walk back to your place much less long and boring, and by the time you’re at your doorstep, you almost want to ask if he’ll do it over again just to spend more time together. 
“Are you sure you don’t want me to find that guy and rough him up a little?” Steve asks on your front doorstep. 
“I’m sure,” you say with a laugh, “you could sign this though,” you hold up the flyer, “all of my pens are inside though.”
Steve doesn’t sign the flyer that night, he’s far too busy kissing you once you’re through the door. The next morning though, after you’ve woken up alone in bed, you find the flyer on your bedside table, Steve’s phone number written underneath his signature. 
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athanwritesthings · 2 months
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No Judgement || Reader x TJD [request]
A/N: I wanted to preface with this, this is a request for a more platonic relationship with reader & TJD. I will be making more of these throughout time, either with the group as an entirety, or a specific person in the group. <33
word count: 1,104
summary: you, a WWE Creative, have spent majority of your day after work, working. Rhea, Dominik, Damian, and Finn see you've been hard at work when they get home. this initiates your group of close knit friends/platonic soulmates to take action and make sure you've taken care of you, no judgement at all.
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All too often, time was never something I had been good at keeping, lost in the words on the page, or on the screen of my laptop, the faint light being the only thing illuminating my face. Sometimes, the quiet click of my keyboard was the only thing to be heard as I would sit there, building the world on paper in a way, instead of building it in my head as I'd read. On other occasions, it was theater and plays, seeing how many expressed themselves through some sort of acting. It was often that I was lost in my own world, spilling everything in my mind onto paper. When you've grown up with the comforts of these things, it sticks and never lets go. Reading, writing and theater was my thing, my outlet. That was why I found myself lucky for loving the arts, setting myself right into a seat on the Creative team.
Tonight was no different. I sat in my office at home, face almost void of expression, the faint light of my laptop illuminating my face, fingers tirelessly typing out scripts and any ideas that I had that could possible work, even in the slightest bit. Hours had to have passed, with a couple bathroom breaks possibly every couple hours or so. As much as the back of my head told me to stop, nothing had really pulled my focus. Even when I heard their footsteps, their talking and laughter. Even when I felt eyes looking at me from where I sat.
If I had been aware of my surroundings, I'd actually hear Rhea, Dom, Damian and Finn's hushed voices talking to each other, discussing on if they'd know if I had eaten, drank anything, or even relaxed. And I would not only learn that Rhea and Dom were leaving to the new Italian restaurant that it wouldn't take long for Rhea and Dom to leave to the new Italian restaurant that we had gone to a few weeks ago, and that they'd be back soon with the most mouthwatering Fettuccine Alfredo, as that had been my absolute favorite. I would also know that they planned to bring my hydro, filled with fresh ice water to make sure I drank. Or even that Damian and Finn were getting snacks from the store for us all, just for a movie night to get my mind off of work.
It all quieted again once they had dispersed, though I didn't exactly know when the talking stopped, it not threatening to cross my mind again anyways. With uncertainty in my mind, I leaned back some in my chair, my eyes looking at the screen. A small scowl slowly paints my face, reading everything over one… two… even three times. How had I gotten this far without really looking at what I wrote? Just to see if I liked it? I huffed, leaning forward and selecting everything. My finger, finding it's place on the "Backspace" button, froze, still hovering over it in just the slightest.
My gaze, finally having broken from the laptop screen, looks over to the hand on my water bottle. I… hadn't brought that in. Had I? Finally fully looking up, I see Rhea, with Dom close behind, standing beside me. The light was on now, and the sun had set. "You lost track of time again, didn't ya?" Was the first thing said to me, only responding back with a simple nod. "And I'm assuming you haven't ate?" This time, shaking my head. Dom takes a couple steps up and around Rhea, a smile forming on his face as he looked at me, showing the box to me.
Many would see little things, like this, from them as possibly concerned significant others/partners. Coupled with homemade meals that may sometimes seem like a lot for packed lunches, pictures of us and the other members of TJD on Insta (or anywhere else really,) that shared how close we were, or even how much Rhea and Dom cared, one may solidify in their own head that we were all three something… that just wasn't it.
Rhea and Dom were simply just platonic. They knew me well, knew how my brain ticked and clicked. What things kept me flowing, and what things didn't. They weren't my romantic partners. In all cases, they fit in my definition of those platonic soulmates, just a little bit above best friends. Day in, day out, they took opportunities to care, and had loved me for me. Just as platonic soulmates/friends did.
Snapping back to reality, smelling the food finally, my eyes lit up. "Is that… Is that from the new place we tried once before, with the good fettuccine alfredo?" Was all that left my lips, Dom grinning wide as he walked over, chewing his gum as usual. 'Yeah, we figured it's been a bit, might as well get it again for you…' He'd respond, handing me the box and a fork.
Rhea, pulling up a spare chair I had in my office, sits next to me, her gaze landing on the screen. "Am I allowed to read this?" She asks, looking at me first, before even thinking of reading further. I nod as I take my first bite, internally smiling. Dom, wanting to read it too, leans forward on Rhea's chair, his chin resting on the top of her head. A few moments of silence, then a surprised look for just a split second. "You were going to delete this? Y/N this is good so far…"
"It is good. But… come take a break. Damian and Finn are gonna be back with snacks and everything. We wanted to all watch a movie. Would be a great time for you to take a break." Dom's grin had returned as his chin raised from the top of Rhea's head to look at me, an excited look in his eyes.
Part of me knew that I couldn't say no either, I needed the break. I had been relentlessly working all day and I could eventually burn myself out. "You're coming to watch the movie, Y/N. You deserve the break." Rhea's voice was stern, yet kind.
What kind people they were. I acted like I was thinking about it, before actually deciding to respond. I criss cross my legs and lean forward as I begin.
"Okay, okay, fine! But on one condition," I still act as if I'm thinking when I speak, before jabbing the air, towards them with my fork. "I get to choose the movie."
"Deal." The two of them said in unison, goofy grins on their faces.
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gyeomsweetgyeom · 10 months
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[3:41 pm]
(00′s line cafe 7dream au)
"I'll give you 100 if it happens again today," Renjun offers.
"That's not even fair, we all know it will," Haechan rolled his eyes.
"Mmm I don't know about that, shift lead talked to them on their last shared shift, so it might not," Jeno added, wiping down the espresso machine now that it was slow in the cafe.
"Fine, I'll take your bet,” Haechan concluded after mulling over the bet silently.
You and Jaemin had been together longer than anyone in the cafe had worked together or even known each other, minus Jeno and Jaemin who had been best friends since they were kids. Which wasn't exactly saying much, you and Jaemin had started working at the cafe about 2 years ago and everyone else had slowly joined. Even though you were all close friends, it didn't mean they were necessarily used to the habits you both had.
Recently they had been picking up on a habit they didn't even think that you and Jaemin knew you had. A habit that was disgusting to them since they knew you, but they would never admit that they actually thought it was kind of cute. As cute as it was, it definitely wasn't meant for the workplace which you both had been gently talked to a few times now that people around you were catching on.
Today, you were coming in an hour before Jaemin to help with the pastries and Jaemin was scheduled to come right at the beginning of the rush after kids got of school. You walked right in, greeted everyone and got right to work as soon as the apron was tied around your waist.
You were able to get a few trays of best selling pastries out of the oven and another few just going in as the rush started, meaning Jaemin was finally coming in soon.
The bell over the door chimed, revealing Jaemin with a bright smile rushing to the kitchen right past his coworkers who eyed each other inconspicuously, immediately rushing to the door to see if Renjun would be making any money.
You were too busy to look up from what you were doing, trying to scoop the cookie dough onto the tray and get it into the oven quickly. Jaemin placed his hands on your shoulders and you instinctually tilted your head toward Jaemin who was quick to place a kiss on your lips before he started talking like he had been right there with you for hours, no greeting.
You chatted about the desserts you were making, if it had been busy, what you wanted to dinner, if you wanted your usual drink when it slowed down. He pressed another kiss to your lips before he was heading to the cash register where he usually worked because the older women loved his charisma.
Eventually when the rush died down, Jaemin was able to make the drink he promised you, and again, the coworkers rushed to the tiny window in the swinging door to catch Jaemin kissing you before he pushed the drink into your hand. He sat next to you while you pushed a cookie in his direction, while you made small talk on your shared break.
"Hey, you owe me 100," Renjun remembered with a smile.
You perked up, calling out, "What did you guys bet on?"
"Haechan bet you guys wouldn't kiss when you guys got here like you always do," Renjun shrugged, counting the new bills in his hands.
"I was agreeing with him and then you! Jeno, you told me a shift lead talked to them about it, I wasn't sure if you guys would risk a write up," Haechan whined with a stomp of his foot.
"But why would either of us get a write up, when Jeno is shift lead? It's like that rule doesn't apply when he's in charge," Jaemin asked, confused.
"You told me a shift lead talked to them about it!" Haechan yelled at Jeno.
"No, I said a shift lead, me in this case, talked to them and I did because we're best friends and we talk all the time. I never said anyone complained," Jeno shrugged.
"Why?! What did you gain from this?!" Haechan yelled again, luckily there was no one in the restaurant.
"I got half of Renjun’s winnings and entertainment, now let's get back to work." Jeno concluded.
Once again, a kiss was exchanged between you and Jaemin which only made Haechan whine louder about how you all must hate him to betray him like this.
"Saved you a muffin," you told him. He immediately shut up and rushed over to you with a huge hug.
"I love you so much. You're the best coworker and friend I've ever had. No one on the whole planet compares to you or your delicious muffins. I don't even know what you do to make them so good, nobody makes them as good as you do," Haechan rambled.
Jeno's voice suddenly came from the doorway, "Haechan, hands off in the workplace! Let's get to work."
“But you said nothing when we literally watched them kiss! More than once!”
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whiskey-tango-matcha · 6 months
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Thanks (m, cold)
Hi guys, thank you again for voting on which scenario you wanted to see for this fic! It's a bit of a slow burn, and idk how I feel about the ending, but Elijah is staunchly miserable by the end so hopefully that makes y'all happy 😅 let me know if you like it 🫶
Ps I've been writing this for literally the past 12 hours so I cannot look at it anymore, I'll read it over and edit errors in the morning but I need to get it out before it drives me insane lmao. 5.5k words under the cut :)
CW: male snz, colds, coughing, fever, contagion
There was nothing quite as depressing, Elijah decided, as the days leading up to Thanksgiving dinner service in a restaurant. Well, unless you were Greyson.
“Goooood morning, boss! Two days til the Big Day; are you pumped?”
Elijah turned his chair slowly towards the door, where the chef stood grinning unironically. He thought, not for the first time, that Greyson was likely some sort of dog in a past life – a golden retriever, or possibly a lab. One of those ‘no thoughts, just vibes’ dogs.
“Am I pumped?” Elijah asked, glaring at Greyson. “For a day that should be spent drinking shitty beer and eating my weight in carbs spent instead putting on a fake smile for people who don’t even think of us as human? For people who go out to eat literally once a year, and make sure they do it on a holiday so they can feel powerful by forcing a restaurant to serve them, then complain about the price and stiff my servers? Am I pumped to barely break even, even though the restaurant will be packed from ten am until close, because those same people staunchly refuse to pay more than eighty bucks a head to stuff themselves silly? Am I pumped to listen to my staff complain all day, despite the fact that when each of them was hired, they were told in no uncertain terms that they would be working holidays?” Elijah clicked his pen closed loudly, stood to let Greyson through, and sat with him in tandem, his face set in anger the whole time. “No, Grey. I am not, in fact, pumped.”
Greyson broke their eye contact to wake his computer, the lecture obviously unexpected. “Clearly I should’ve read the room before opening my mouth,” he said, glancing back over at his boss briefly. “My bad, boss.”
Elijah, embarrassed that he’d let himself sink into such a state about something as stupid as a holiday service, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Fuck. Sorry, Grey. You just caught me at a bad moment. I had two servers call out for today, I’m fuckin’ sweating because we really need everyone here for Thursday and neither of them are sure they’ll be good to come back in two days.”
“Hmm,” Greyson hummed, his eyebrows threading together. “That’s weird. I had Victor and Elise call out on my way in.”
Elijah felt his heart thump in his temple. “Did they say why?”
“I didn’t ask,” Greyson said, turning his chair to face his boss. “But I guess I should’ve. Did the servers say why they couldn’t come in?”
“Some sort of fever-cold thing, is what Jason said he had. Ashley just said she felt like shit.” Elijah pressed his fingers into his eye and sighed. “I need a cigarette. Care to join?”
Greyson, never one to turn down nicotine in any form, stood from his chair. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said.
The two of them walked through the empty kitchen in silence, Elijah entirely too wrapped in his own thoughts to continue their conversation. There was an ongoing joke, a trope, at this point, about holidays in the restaurant; everyone was always sick for them. Last Easter, the servers all had bronchitis, and a couple of Valentine’s days ago, Greyson had so many cooks call out with the stomach flu that they’d had to hire last-minute temps to fill in on the line. Despite doing nearly 300 covers, they barely made enough to cover the immense labor that seven temps on a holiday cost.
“Lij,” Greyson said as the two of them stepped out the back door and sat on the milk crates littering the loading dock, “it’s not going to be like Valentine’s. I can see your fuckin’ gears turning.” The chef pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, handed his boss one, and lit them both up. “Relax.”
Silence, once again, fell upon them as they smoked and watched fat snowflakes disintegrate on the asphalt. Elijah hoped that Greyson was right, that everything would be fine and he was overreacting – but he knew better than to hope. More likely than not, it was going to be what it always was on holidays: a shit show.
Matt and Mark, hand-in-hand until they spotted their bosses by the door, turned the corner and waved to their counterparts in tandem like well-trained circus animals. Elijah couldn’t help but smile as their fingers unwove from one another.
“Morning,” Elijah called, stubbing out his cigarette. Greyson did the same, and the two of them stood to let the younger men into the building.
“Aren’t you freezing?” Mark asked rubbing his hands together as he pushed the door open. Elijah shrugged as he held the door open for the other two and walked in behind them.
“My rage keeps me warm,” he said, prompting a laugh from Greyson and an eye roll from the younger men. “How’re you guys?”
Mark shot a look at Matt as they all walked towards the office at the front of the kitchen. “I’m well,” he said, pointedly. Elijah nearly stopped in his tracks when he glimpsed Matt glaring at his boyfriend.
“Matt…?” Greyson asked, an attempt at giving his sous chef a get-out-of-jail-free card. There was silence as the three of them turned, expectantly, towards Matt.
“I’mb good,” the sous said, his voice cracking on the second syllable. Elijah audibly groaned, Mark winced, and Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing at the absurdity.
“Well, you certainly sound great,” Greyson said, palming Matt’s shoulder aggressively. “Would you like to go home and sleep that off?”
“Yes, he -”
“Ndo,” Matt said, cutting Mark off and shooting him a look. “I wandt to help prep.I’mb – hh! hh’NGTSH-uh!” Matt turned and pulled his coat up over the bottom half of his face to sneeze, then quickly gathered himself and stood up straight. “I’mb fine,” he said, convincing no one.
Elijah closed his eyes briefly and sighed through his nose; fortunately or unfortunately, he knew exactly why Matt hadn’t called off.
The week prior, Elijah and Greyson had dolled out raises and bonuses for the staff; this year was Matt’s fifth as sous chef. Greyson had basically written a dissertation of why his sous chef should be given a new title – Executive Sous – along with a significant raise and bonus. It hadn’t taken much convincing; Elijah knew exactly how hard Matt worked, and staying at the same restaurant as a sous chef for five years was nearly unheard of in this city, especially for someone as young as Matt. He and Greyson had agreed that Matt’s loyalty to the restaurant deserved to be compensated, and had surprised him before his day off with the new title and pay.
Matt had been surprised – shocked was probably a better word for it, honestly – and had confided in Elijah after Greyson had dipped early to meet up with a date that he felt like he didn’t deserve the raise.
“You do,” Elijah had said, laughing lightly. “We wouldn’t have given it to you if you didn’t deserve it.”
The younger man had shaken his head. “I just… I mean, Greyson is here way more than me. I get two days off mostly, and he doesn’t let me work longer than ten hours. And I love it here, you guys don’t need to, like, worry about me leaving if that’s what this is about.”
Elijah had given Matt a confused look. “Greyson should be here more than you, first of all he’s a partner, not just the chef, and secondly, he gets paid very well to be here eighty hours a week. That’s his choosing. You’re his employee – if you were here as much as he was and getting paid significantly less, that wouldn’t be fair. And we’re glad you love it here, but that’s not why we gave you the raise. We gave it to you because you’re a hard worker, and you deserve to be compensated for what you do.” Elijah had smiled at Matt, patted his knee, and finished with, “Don’t sell yourself short.”
Matt had just smiled back and nodded, but Elijah knew he hadn’t changed his mind about ‘being undeserving’. Elijah knew, via background checks that were performed by his off-site HR company, and via Mark being a blabbermouth the second he got a glass of wine in him, that Matt had been a bit of a troubled kid; he’d been bounced from one foster home to another as a kid, and then one juvenile detention hall to another as a teenager. Only when he’d dropped out of high school and gotten a job as a dishwasher at a Denny’s did he finally decide it was time to shape up. He’d worked his way into the diner’s kitchen, then a slightly nicer kitchen, and when he was 20, he’d shown up at the front door of Elliot’s in an ill-fitting suit with a speech about how he was ready to work somewhere that he could hone his passion, even if they couldn’t pay him a dime. Greyson had hired him on the spot, not even consulting Elijah, despite only having been the executive chef for a few months.
Elijah knew Matt felt that he owed Greyson, not the other way around, and this promotion and raise was the nail in that coffin of doubt. He knew there was no way Matt would go home, no matter how shitty he felt.
Greyson just shrugged at his sous chef’s denial of being sick. “If you want to stay, I’m not going to make you leave,” he said, walking into the office and changing from his sweatshirt into his chef’s coat. “Just don’t sneeze on the food.”
Matt rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket to put his own chef’s coat on. “Yes, Chef,” he said, coughing into his elbow. Mark and Elijah exchanged sidelong looks.
“Are you feeling okay?” Elijah asked his junior manager. Mark smirked, hiked his laptop bag further onto his shoulder, and started towards the dining room – his makeshift office.
“Never better, boss,” he said, pushing through the swinging doors. “Never better.”
***
“So, is he coming in tomorrow?”
Greyson lolled his head to the side, hands still on his keyboard, and deadpanned Elijah. “The fuck do you think?”
Elijah pulled a hand down his face and nodded. “Yeah, okay, just wanted to check.”
While Matt had been relatively fine the first few hours of the shift, by the time the last guests had eaten, the sous had been so staunchly miserable that Greyson had marched his ass into the office, thrown his jacket over his shoulders, and pointed towards the back door. “Go. Home. Now.”
“Chef, I – HTSHH! Hh-! GTSH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side, collapsing into a post-sneeze coughing fit that made the cooks flinch from five yards away.
“You’re not fine,” Greyson insisted. “You’re sick, and you’re going to get everyone else sick.”
Matt nodded, miserable, and hung his head. “Sorry, Chef,” he muttered, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket.
“Go,” Greyson said. “And come back when you’re well.”
Mark had taken Matt home in an Uber, and the cooks and servers had been able to leave relatively early, which left Elijah, Greyson, and a bottle of whiskey between them on the desk to figure out how they were going to handle the rest of the week.
Greyson sighed and reached for the bottle as he pushed away from his computer screen. He took a long pull and handed the bottle to Elijah, who followed suit. “I just… I don’t understand why he’d come in that sick,” Greyson said, pulling his hair to the top of his head and securing it with a rubber band from their drawer of office supplies. Elijah had to pull the bottle away from his lips to laugh. “What?” Greyson asked.
“You, of all people, can’t understand why he came in sick?” Elijah asked, incredulous. “You?”
“What do you mean me?” Greyson asked, snatching the bottle back. “If anything, he learned it from watching you.”
“Oh, spare me, Greyson,” Elijah rolled his eyes. “For awhile there, you literally came in sick three weeks a month.”
Greyson scoffed. “At least I’ve never passed out on the kitchen floor.”
“Yes, you have.”
“No, I almost passed out. You actually fuckin’ swooned. Collapsed in a puddle. Full damsel in distress.” Greyson took another pull and placed the bottle back on the desk. “So don’t come for me unless I send for you.”
Elijah guffawed at this. “Who taught you that saying?” he asked. Greyson shrugged.
“I heard one of the servers using it. I like it.”
“The servers are twenty years old, you dinosaur. The last thing they want is Grandpa Greyson using their jargon.”
“Fuck off, if anyone here is a grandpa it’s…” Greyson stopped suddenly, held up a finger, let his eyes flutter shut, then let out a shaky breath. “Fuck, that’s annoying.” He rubbed his nose on the back of his hand, then raised an eyebrow at his boss, whose face had drawn into concern. “What?”
“What was that?” Elijah asked, glancing over at the bottle of whiskey they’d spent the past hour sharing.
“I just thought I was going to – oh,” Greyson’s eyes widened. “No, dude, relax, I’m totally fine. I feel great.”
“‘Buzzed’ and ‘great’ are two different things, Grey,” Elijah said. He reached up to feel Greyson’s forehead, prompting the chef to lean back in his chair.
“Great as in healthy,” he insisted, shooing Elijah’s hand away. “Seriously, I’d let you know if I – HRRTSHHH-ue!” He caught the sneeze in his elbow – barely – and choked back an irritated cough. From the crook of his arm, he heard Elijah swear.
“I’m going to end your fuckin’ life, I swear to God,” Elijah muttered, pushing the bottle further onto Greyson’s side of the desk. “You let me drink from the same bottle as you, you dick.”
“I’m fine, Elijah, Christ it was one sneee – hh! - hh…” Greyson tipped his head back in anticipation, then lowered and shook it when the feeling once again dissipated. “See? Totally fine.” He sniffled – convincing, Grey – and immediately changed course. “Plus, it’s alcohol. It’s an antiseptic.”
“It one million percent is not,” Elijah said, rubbing his temples in defeat. “Greyson, you cannot be sick. We cannot be sick. How the hell are we going to be able to run Thanksgiving?”
“Elijah,” Greyson said, “listen. I am fine. Everything is going to be just fi – ITSHH-ue!” Greyson pitched forward into his palm and cringed. Elijah, begrudgingly, slammed the box of tissues they kept on a side table in front of the chef.
“Bless you,” he said while Greyson cleaned himself up. “And, I mean this from the bottom of my heart: fuck. You.”
***
“Hhh-! Huh… hnnn.”
“Bless you.”
“Oh, screw you, Lij,” Greyson muttered for the millionth time that day. He grabbed what felt like his hundredth tissue and blew his nose – only for the feeling to reignite. “Huhhh! Hhh...hh… guhh.” Greyson rubbed his nose again and angrily spiked the tissue into the trash can beneath his prep station.
“Bless you,” Elijah said again, mocking.
“You kndow,” Greyson said, turning towards his boss, who was seated in the office, not looking Greyson’s way. “Karma is going to combe for you for being an asshole to mbe.”
At this, Elijah glanced towards Greyson. “Karma? No, karma is having a cold and not being able to sneeze because you let your friend drink out of the same bottle as you when you knew you were getting sick. That’s karma, and you got what was coming to you.”
“Fuuhhh! Huh! Hh...fuck,” Greyson grumbled, coughing into his shoulder.
“Karma is also giving your sous chef a lecture about being sick at work, only to be get sick and have to come into work because you’re technically the most well of all the sick cooks and chefs.”
“Are you finished?” Greyson asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I get it. And to be fair, I did ndot kndow I was getting sick.” The chef sucked in painfully through his nose and collapsed into coughs once again.
“Mmhmm,” Elijah mumbled. When it seemed like Greyson wasn’t going to be able to stop the coughing, he took pity and got up to make the chef tea.
“Here,” Elijah said, slamming a paper cup in front of Greyson. “Drink it. Sickie.”
Greyson, unable to come up with a proper comeback, just did as he was told. “How mbany on the books tonight?” he croaked. Elijah sighed, pulled up his phone, and slid it towards Greyson. “Fuck,” Greyson said when he saw the number.
“All the people in the city who aren’t coming in tomorrow decided tonight was the night, apparently,” Elijah said, taking his phone back and putting it in his pocket. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, in earnest.
Greyson nodded. “It’s ndot too bad,” he said, taking another sip of tea. “Just wish I could fuckigg sndeeze.”
Elijah huffed out a laugh. “You’re sure you don’t want to call Matt in?”
“Definitely no – hh! Huh...hhhITSHHHZUE! Oh thank fuckigg God – HUHHESTCH-ue! Hh! Hnn...HuhhhETSCHH-ue! HTSSHH-ue!”
Elijah whistled, long and low, and pushed the box of tissues towards Greyson. “Wow,” he said. “Bless.”
Greyson rolled his eyes as he took a handful of tissues and cleaned himself up. “See?” he said once he’d thrown them away and washed his hands, “Good as new. HTSSHH-ue!”
Elijah chuckled. “Sure, Chef,” he said, moving towards the doors to the dining room. “Whatever you say.”
***
In his thirty-nine years on earth, Elijah had learned a lot about himself. He’d learned that he was a hothead, and he had to really think about the repercussions of what was going to come out of his mouth if he wanted to keep the person he was talking to in his life. He’d learned that he was incapable of whistling, juggling, or any other party trick – but he could pull out a fantastic rendition of Queen’s Somebody to Love during karaoke, and that was enough to make him seem like he was fun at parties. He’d learned that he loved to have his own space, and should he ever find a partner, he knew they’d have to have separate bedrooms. And he had learned exactly what it felt like when he was getting sick.
Like… really sick.
When Greyson said things like, “I didn’t know I was getting sick,” it truly did not register to Elijah. Maybe it was because Greyson’s illnesses always seemed to be some sort of mixed bag – starting differently every time, with symptoms that varied wildly – or maybe it was because he just didn’t tune in to how he was feeling. Greyson always said he basically tried to ignore his body until it forced him to pay attention; maybe that was something that Elijah needed to attempt. Because Elijah… Elijah knew exactly when and how badly he was getting sick every single time.
It had started that afternoon, mere hours after he’d given Greyson shit about exposing him to this illness, the way it always did – with the type of sore throat that made you feel weak in your knees. Elijah had swallowed, then immediately felt dizzy with the pain that surged in his throat. Oh, he thought, touching his neck. Oh, no.
He was, of course, a creature of habit and attempted all his usual ways to quell the pain – cups of tea hidden in paper sleeves, lozenges he hoped Greyson was too stuffed up to smell on his breath, handfuls of ibuprofen – to no avail. By the time dinner service came around he could hear the rasp in his voice and, despite the ibuprofen, could feel the ache in his joints that meant he’d already made it to stage two; fever.
This was how he knew he was going to be down badly. If he could ride the sore throat past the fever and straight into congestion, he might be able to get away with just a normal cold. But if that fever set in before any other symptoms, it was all over.
“Yo,” Greyson said, approaching his boss post pre-shift. “Cand we quickly talk about the semantics of tomborrow’s buffet before people get here?”
Elijah lifted his heavy head from his pre-shift notes and blinked in Greyson’s direction. “Okay,” he said, brilliantly. Greyson’s eyebrows knit together, concerned.
“You good?” he asked, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. Elijah nodded slowly – surely, if Greyson was able to push through this illness with such ease, he was just being a baby about it. He swallowed through the knives in his throat and nodded.
“Just a headache,” he said. “What do you want to talk through?”
“Just wanted to see how mbany cooks you think I should have on the buffehh....ETSZHCHH-ue!” Greyson directed a massive sneeze into his elbow, and Elijah’s head about exploded with pain.
“Christ,” Elijah muttered, pressing his palm into his eye. Greyson muffled a cough into his sleeve and shook his head to clear it.
“Fuck, ‘scuse mbe,” he said, looking back at his boss. “Umb. Did I get you or something?”
Something like that, Elijah thought as he shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re just loud, and my head hurts.” He pulled out his phone, looked at the cover spread for the next day, and said, “Three cooks on the buffet. One for omelets, one for prime rib carving, one for dessert bar.” He looked up at Greyson for his confirmation. “What?” he asked.
“You just… look like you’re in pain,” Greyson said, carefully. “Did you take -?”
“Yes, I took ibuprofen,” Elijah cut him off. “Go make sure your guys are ready for tonight. Take a decongestant so they can understand you. I’ll be back there in a minute.”
Greyson pursed his lips, but didn’t argue. “Yes, sir,” he said, and left Elijah to brood.
By some stroke of luck, the third inevitable stage of Elijah’s illness didn’t hit him until after they’d finished service. He was checking the lead server’s station so she could go home, when suddenly it felt like a thousand bees collected in his sinuses.
“Yeah, looks good Riley, thanks, see you in the mo – IGTSHH-uhh! HSTSH-ue! HhhhINTSZH-ue!” Elijah wrenched to the side, the sneezes so sudden he barely had time to cover his mouth.
“Yikes,” Riley said, taking a step away from her boss. “Bless you.”
“Thanks,” Elijah muttered, pinching his nose to quell the itch.
“You pick up whatever has everyone else out this week?” she asked, taking off her apron. Elijah shook his head.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “Have a good night.”
With all the servers gone, Elijah slunk back into the kitchen and sunk into his office chair, his head in his hands. He was not prepared to do a whole holiday service feeling like this. This was nightmarish, and he’d only felt sick for nine hours. Tomorrow? Tomorrow was going to be -
“Hey, bless you,” Elijah sat up and turned around at the accusation to see Greyson standing at the office door with his arms crossed. “Could’ve heard those from fuckin’ space.”
Elijah rolled his eyes, painfully. “Whatever,” he said, powering his computer up to finish the night’s paperwork. “You’re one to talk, I don’t think you’ve gone three seconds without -”
“HRRSHH-oo!” Greyson cut him off with a comically-timed sneeze directed into the collar of his shirt.
“-that,” Elijah finished.
Greyson grabbed a tissue and wiped his nose. “Yeah, but it’s been well-established that I have a cold. I was under the impression that you were still -”
“HTSHH! HRSHH! Huh-! HuhhESTZHH-ue!” Elijah once again collapsed in on himself, head both buzzing and pounding, the explosive sneezes grating the back of his throat.
“- well,” Greyson finished, and moved into the office to sit by his boss. Just as Elijah looked up from his lap, Greyson slapped a hand on his forehead.
“Enough,” Elijah said, pushing Greyson’s palm off. Greyson put both his palms on his knees and gave Elijah a knowing look.
“So, you’ve been sick all day, or…?”
“Greyson,” Elijah said, clearing his throat, “I’m fine.”
“You have a fever, Lij. Like, a pretty significant one.”
He knew, and he had known, but the words made Elijah’s eyes well and his throat close all the same. God, he hated having a fucking fever and all the stupid, ridiculous emotions that went along with it. Elijah took a breath, closed his eyes to collect himself, and addressed the chef.
“I’m not feeling 100%,” he said. “But I will be fine. You are sick – if I’m not 100%, then you must be at like 10% at this point.”
“I don’t have a fever,” Greyson pointed out, taking Elijah’s hand and placing it on his cool head. “See?”
Elijah bit his cheek to keep from snapping. “Alright,” he said. “Whatever. Still, you need to go home; it’s a big day tomorrow.”
“I will when you do,” Greyson said, shrugging. Elijah, completely spent, and done arguing, just turned off his computer – paperwork be damned for the night.
“Fine,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Let’s call it a night.”
Greyson, clearly confused, just raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Alright boss,” he said, grabbing his jacket. “See you tomorrow.”
***
If there was one thing Greyson knew about Elijah, it was this: if you wanted him to admit defeat, you had to corner him.
When he woke up at oh-dark-thirty that morning, Greyson felt lucky that he was no worse for the wear then he was the night before. Was he stuffed-up to the gills? Yes. Did he have an incessant, grating cough? Yeah. But ultimately, it was a cold, and he’d work through far worse many more times.
So, despite the fact that it was still dark out, Greyson donned his hoodie and set out for the restaurant. On the way to the early-morning subway, he called Matt.
“...Hello?” Matt answered on the third ring. “Chef?”
“Mbornin’ sunshine,” Greyson said, coughing into the receiver. “How’re you feeling?”
“Uh…” Matt said, attempting to gather his bearings. “Better. Am I supposed to be at the restaurant now? I thought I was scheduled at eight.” Greyson heard him push back a blanket and plant his feet on the floor. “You sound like shit, by the way. Sorry about that.”
“Inevitable,” Greyson said, a brush-off. “And you aren’t scheduled til eight, but I have sombe very important, pre-work, Executive Sous shit I ndeed your help with.”
“Sure, boss,” Matt said, and Greyson could hear him changing clothes, using mouthwash, and whispering goodbye to Mark. “Anything you need.”
“Good man,” Greyson said, pausing at the top of the subway steps. “Could you pick up cough drops, Mucinex, and a hot water bottle, if you see one? Oh, and a real blanket. I’ll Venmo you some mboney.”
“Uh, sure, boss. Is this… for you?”
“Not for me,” Greyson said, coughing into his sleeve. “For Elijah. He’s down bad.”
“Oh. Oh, shit,” Matt said. “Yeah, okay, for sure boss. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks, mban. Hey, I’mb about to head down to the subway, text mbe if you have any – hh! HTSHH-ue! Fuck, sorry,” Greyson wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “Mbaybe grab more tissues while you’re there,” he amended.
“Sure, Chef. Bless.”
“You’re the best, Mbatt. Always knew you’d make a perfect number two.”
Greyson could hear the eye roll through the phone. “Don’t get sappy, old man,” Matt said. “See you soon.”
***
To say Elijah felt like shit would’ve been the understatement of the century.
When he woke up that morning, Elijah was fairly sure he was dying. The fever he’d crawled into bed with hadn’t budged, his sinuses were packed, and he’d officially acquired the final gem on his sick-as-fuck gauntlet: the cough. This day was going to be absolute hell.
Elijah did his level best to get ready for the busy service; he managed to take about half a shower before he had to sit down, dizzy from exertion; he’d gotten one contact in before sneezing so hard he almost poked his eye out and settled on glasses; he’d even found the strength to put on a pair of pants, though a button down was entirely too much for his shaking hands, so he settled on a cardigan that looked passable enough. God he hoped the servers – and Mark – would be able to hold down the fort out front, because this was nothing short of tragic.
Unwilling to deal with the subway and unable to drive safely in this state, Elijah settled on calling an Uber to work. It was early, a little before eight, but he knew if he didn’t get there now, he’d never make it.
“Happy Thanksgiving!” the driver said, leaving Elijah to immediately regret his decision not to drive. “Pretty early to be up and at ‘em. You heading to see family?”
Elijah cleared his throat as best he could before begrudgingly responding to the driver. “Ndot quite,” he said, his voice strained and congested. “Worki – HGSTHH-ue! HRSSH! ETSZCH-uh!” Elijah attempted to hold back the sneezes, unsuccessfully. Sans any tissues, he wiped his nose on his sweater sleeve. “Excuse mbe, sorry.”
“Working and sick on a holiday?” the driver said, shaking his head. “That’s rough, man. Bless you.”
Elijah’s face flamed, but he was in no state to deny. “Yeah,” he said instead. “Thangks.”
The rest of the drive was in blessed silence, and Elijah made sure to tip the guy extra for being exposed to whatever plague he was walking around with. When he finally pushed through the back door of the restaurant, Elijah felt like he’d already lived a lifetime today; he really wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to take.
“Elijah!” Greyson’s voice reached him before Elijah could even see his face. “Happy Thanksgiving, you sick old fuck!”
Elijah turned the corner and almost burst into tears – there stood Greyson, his face pale and nose bright red, and Matt and Mark looking no better, outside of his office; his office that had been, essentially, turned into a cozy-looking bedroom.
There were blankets on the floor, the chairs removed, and medicine on the desk. The harsh office light had been shut off, and instead one of the lamps from the host stand glowed gently from behind the computer. And, perhaps most heart-rendering, in Greyson’s hand was a bowl of steaming soup, and in Matt’s, a cup of tea.
“I know you hate working the holidays, and feeling like shit is just insult to injury,” Greyson said, setting down the bowl so he could guide Elijah into the office. “So we thought we’d mbake it just a little less shitty.”
Elijah allowed himself to be lead in, unable to find the words to thank his friend. He turned into his elbow to cough, a welcome respite from the tears he could feel threatening to spill over. “Grey,” he said when he’d gathered himself. “I… this is so… you guys…” he swallowed around the lump in his throat and shook his head. “I don’t kndow what to say,” he said, looking up at Greyson. “Thangk you.”
“Ah, save it,” Greyson said, placing a hand on his friend’s back. “You’re always looking after us. Call it our Thanksgiving to you.”
Elijah smiled a little, punched Greyson’s arm lightly, and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. Heading to see family? the Uber driver had asked him. Maybe he had been, after all.
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63historian · 29 days
Note
I wish you would write a fic where Lewis proposes to George
(this was not meant to be over 1k words but here we are)
He was worried it would end like this, reverse of how it began.
He knew it would get more challenging, not being in the same team, their schedules not perfectly aligning anymore. But his best mate is dating someone who’s on the other side of the world half of the time, so surely he can manage to keep his relationship alive with someone who’s just a garage down. Or so he thought.
Lewis has had less and less time for him recently. What’s worse, he seems to be spending that gained time with Charles. He realises that sounds ridiculous, they’re teammates, of course they spend a lot of time together, it’s kind of in the job description. But that’s how it began for the two of them — spending extensive amounts of time together.
The only reason he doesn’t think there’s anything going on between them is because Pierre finally got over his religious trauma and him and Charles have started dating. He knows how long Charles has been pining over him, there’s no way he would jeopardise that.
Still, that doesn’t mean Lewis couldn’t simply catch feelings for him. And now he’s on his way to break up with George.
He cancelled their plans earlier in the week but texted George an hour ago to get ready, that he’s coming to pick him up. A fancy dinner to soften the blow? How cliché. He didn’t even bother to check if he’s free at all.
He’s mentally preparing himself to have his heart shattered to pieces. He’s going over all possible reactions in his mind to have the right one ready; always one to be prepared for any scenario, any outcome.
No matter how he’s actually feeling, he won’t let Lewis see that.
He’s driving a Ferrari, how on point. To an unsuspecting eye, everything might seem normal. He greets him like he usually does, with a long kiss on the lips. He always takes the time to kiss him properly, no hurried pecks.
But George’s eye is trained, thanks to years of watching Lewis from afar, and then further few of watching him up close. He wipes his sweaty hand over his trousers before placing it on the steering wheel — he’s not one to get nervous just about anything.
George briefly has the mind to make it easier for him, tell him he already knows. If anything, he would prefer for it to happen in the privacy of his car, over a restaurant full of strangers. But he doesn’t say anything; if Lewis wants to break it off, he will have to do all the work. It’s the least he deserves.
The air blowing into his face is what takes him out of his thoughts again. They are going too fast for Monaco, the streets always full of traffic. That’s when he notices they aren’t even in the city anymore, already making their way along the coastal road.
He finally asks Lewis where they’re going, can’t believe himself that he hadn’t thought to inquire before.
“You’ll see, it’s a surprise,” he replies with a wink thrown his way.
Well, he surely wouldn’t be so cruel. George’s gaze is still fixed on him, albeit becoming somewhat blurry as his eyes well with tears. I don’t want to lose this, his mind helpfully supplies. All his practised reactions go out the window, he will beg on his knees if that’s what it takes.
Little does he know, it’s not him who will be on his knees soon.
Lewis pulls over and stops the car at an unspecified location. There’s nothing around here for miles. He gets out and comes over to George’s side to open the door for him; he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt yet, still shocked at why exactly this is the place they’re meant to go.
Lewis takes his hand in his, depositing a small kiss on his knuckles, and leads them down nearby steps, until they reach a small beach. His hand is still clammy in his hold.
George can see a flicker of light from afar, turning out to be hundreds of candles when they get near enough, illuminating the scene set in front of him. The site is completed by a huge picnic blanket, a bottle of champagne, and several of their pictures taken over the years, hanging from a make-shift pop-up tent.
He’s busy staring at the beauty of it all to notice Lewis isn’t right by his side anymore.
When he turns around to look for him, he finds him on one knee, a ring box in his outstretched hand.
“Georgie-“ he starts and has to cut himself off immediately, willing the lump in his throat away. “I’ve loved you for four years now, and I would like to love you for many more. There is no one else I would rather wake up to every single day and walk the path of life side by side with for the rest of our time on Earth and beyond. Will you make me the happiest old man and marry me?”
For a moment, all you can hear is the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, and George’s brain rewiring itself.
Lewis’ smile begins to fade when George finally manages to let out a quiet, choked up “Yes, god yes, of course I will.”
He joins Lewis on the ground as he puts the ring on his finger and takes his face into his hands before slowly kissing him. In the background, a series of whoops and cheers can be heard, accompanied by several firecrackers being set off.
One by one, all their friends run over to join them in their celebration and soon he’s being pulled into a group hug. Alex, Lily, Charles, Pierre, Lando, Max — they’re all here.
“H-How?” he can’t even get the word out without stuttering, still overcome with emotions.
“I helped pick the location! I’m taking full credit for this being a success,” Charles announces. “Well I helped pick the ring so, that’s clearly the more important duty,” Alex chimes in. The others also put forward how much of this is their contribution, but George isn’t really listening anymore. His attention is now fully back on his fiancé.
“I can’t believe you. You had me coming up with nightmare scenarios in my head just to be planning this the whole time?”
Lewis frowns temporarily, that’s definitely something he will pick up with him later on, but for now, he focuses on the positive events of the day.
“Told you you’ll be surprised, didn’t I?” he says while gently stroking the ring on his hand.
George pulls him in for another deep kiss, this time not letting go for a good while.
Something did indeed end that day, only so a new chapter of their lives together could begin.
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bts-hyperfixation · 1 year
Text
Kinktober Day 19
Yoongi - Make-Up Sex
Again I've realised we are skipping, We are coming back to Jin, I was finalising some details with my beta who is the inspiration for I dream of Jinnie. Anyway, make up sex and Yoongi One babygirl is uttered, Y/N squirts, and there is an angsty argument, but then I think it's mostly straight forward no kinks vanilla.
"Baby?" Yoongi calls through the bathroom door.
You sit up against the door, keeping him from coming in to get you and cursing the fact no one had gotten round to fixing the lock... just another thing Yoongi must've been too busy to do. You wipe your nose on the back of your sweater and try to stabilise the quiver in your voice. 
"Not now Yoongi." 
"Come on baby, it's getting late, I know you hate when we go to bed angry. Just come out so I can apologise properly and we can sort this out." He says.
He jiggles the door handle, willing it to budge but getting nowhere. You take a deep breath. He’s right, it's terrible going to bed with someone when you can't stand to look at them. When the handle stops moving you shuffle forwards on the floor and reach for the toilet paper to replace your sleeve.
"Just... just give me a little longer." You concede. 
He mumbles an affirmation and you can hear his footsteps as he wanders away. Slowly you drag yourself to your feet, using the sink's edge to stabilise yourself. The mirror doesn't show a friendly reflection. Your eyes are bloodshot, and your cheeks are crusty with the tears you hadn't wiped away quickly enough. You reach for a face cloth and do your best to wipe away the remnants of your fight. 
It'll be hours until the puffy cheeks disappear, but at least you don't feel so gross anymore, you finish your skincare routine while you are there. Leaving Yoongi waiting won't hurt, that's sort of what the fight had been about after all. At least that was how it started.
He was never around when you wanted him to be, never home when you needed him. It was just little things that piled one on top of the other that tipped you over the edge tonight. First, he'd forgotten to put the dishwasher on before he left, an innocent mistake, if it hadn't been the 10th day in a row he’d forgotten. Then, you'd found his socks under the bed, normally not an issue, but you'd just talked about it two nights okay, and he'd promised to be neater. Next, you'd found the empty carton of juice that he swore he'd replace on his way home from the studio.
The final straw came from his phone call just as you were getting ready for date night. Midway through putting the finishing touches on your outfit the phone rang, you had been expecting Yoongi any moment, he should've left the studio 30 minutes ago, yet here he was asking for just one more hour. An hour you begrudgingly allowed him. He guaranteed he'd be home then. So you'd called the restaurant and turned on the TV for an hour.
Then another hour….
Then yet another hour….
Then he was waking you up, clearly having just walked through the door, looking dishevelled in his hoodie and sweats.
You'd wiped sleepily at your eyes, coming away with mascara across your palms. He gazed down at you, eyes filled with pity. It felt like he pitied you for falling asleep waiting for him, for believing his obvious lies, for thinking he wouldn't break yet another promise to you. Then you started yelling, and he yelled back, back and forth for over an hour. Screams of empty promises unfulfilled. Shouts of support not given. Quiet glares while you spelled it all out, over and over again.
Now it all seemed silly. Yoongi had never broken real promises. He treated you like a princess at any other time, he was just really close to his next solo album and it was taking a lot more out of him then either of you had expected or prepared for. It was just so different to his usual self that you were struggling to cope with picking up the extra slack in the relationship. The date night squabble turned into a greatest hits of every disagreement the two of you had swept under the rug for the last three months….
You steady yourself with one more long breath before exiting the bathroom. Your hand lingers on the door handle, having to will yourself to face your own husband… so many things were said that neither of you could take back. The minute your head pokes around the corner of the door, Yoongi reappears in the hall, evidently never having gone very far. 
He holds his arms out to you, welcoming you into his warm embrace, already willing to move on from the ugly night. You hurry to fold yourself into the hug, burying your face into his hoodie. Your face scrunches to avoid more tears leaking out as he strokes your hair and shushes you. 
"Come on, let's go to bed and talk this out." He places a kiss on your forehead and releases you. 
He then takes your hand and pulls you along to your bedroom at the other end of the hallway. You sit on the end of the bed as he goes around gathering the things you need to get ready. He places them next to you on the duvet and sits on the other side. 
"Do you want to get ready for bed first? Or would you like to talk first?" He asks.
"I think we should talk first." You sniffle, hating how watery your voice still sounds. 
Yoongi nods and waits patiently for you to begin with your side of events. It takes you a moment to think about where you really want to start. What the real cause of this argument might've been. 
"I'm feeling a little abandoned right now Yoongi...." 
He opens his mouth as if to counter but you lay a hand in his lap and he stops before the thought fully manifests. 
"It's not your fault, and I know that you're so close to the release date, and I really do think this is some of the best stuff you've ever written. But it just feels like you've let so many things fall to the wayside and I'm one of them."
He nods slowly, digesting what you're saying. He reaches out to caress your cheek and you lean into his hand. 
"I never want you to feel like I'm not here for you. And I know I can't do a lot about it right now. But after this release I am going to be the most attentive man you've ever met. You're going to be sick of me... but I also need you to know that you've hurt me too." He sighs deeply. 
"This is going to sound unbelievably selfish of me, it just feels like you don't always understand that this is something I need to do, and it will never mean I care about you any less. I just don't always have the brain space to do everything you need around the house."
This time it's your turn to nod and think about how to move forward. You understand his point of view, but it doesn't make the processing any easier. Of course now it's just a few household tasks... but what about the hopefully not-too-distant future. Once he completes his military service you'd talked about starting a family, but what if he doesn't have the brain space for that?
You catch yourself from spiralling, that's another conversation, a hypothetical fight for another day when it isn't three in the morning. 
You force yourself to focus on what his words mean for the two of you right now. The words that carry another promise of time made up for that you aren't sure whether you can trust. 
"It feels different this time Yoongi. Sometimes it feels like you aren't going to come back to me, that you're drifting too far away."
"You will always mean the world to me, no matter how far I drift, you will always be my lighthouse guiding me home. Nothing could keep me away from you for too long." He strokes your hair, unmatting the mess left behind by your unscheduled nap. 
You close the gap between you and lean onto his shoulder, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.
"I love you so much," You mumble into his neck.
He shivers as your lips ghost against his skin, it's been so long... too long since you've had a chance to be intimate together. 
"I love you too Y/N." 
He tilts his head to the side, and you lift yours just slightly to meet him in the middle. The kiss is slow, meaningful, a promise in itself of the future. He pushes you down onto the mattress, laying next to you. His hand untangle from your hair and trails round to your throat, holding you in place. He applies the slightest pressure, just enough so you can't quite tell if your head is spinning because of the kiss or the lack of air supply.
You reach out for him, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie to pull him closer. He nearly falls as you force him to adjust the arm that was supporting him over you. One leg falls in between yours to provide the extra support. Instinctively you grind down against his knee, moaning at the friction. The short skirt and skimpy panties you'd chosen did very little to dampen the feeling of him against you.
"Yoongi." You breathe as his lips start to drift along your jawline. 
"Y/N," He mimics "Tell me what you need baby."
"Need you, need you now. You've made me wait so long, please don't make me wait any longer." You practically whine.
"Anything for you." 
He pulls back long enough to pull his hoodie over his head, shirt gone in the same swift movement. You follow his lead, discarding your wasted date clothes off to the side, ready for him to come back to you. 
You slide back on the bed until your head hits the pillow. Yoongi follows close behind, crawling after you. 
"How ready for me are you?" He asks
"Let's just say my toys have not been anywhere near enough to get me off lately. I haven't been able to cum without you all week, and I am so desperate. Please put me out of my misery." You pout, prompting him to kiss it away. 
He barely pulls away from you to line himself up. He supports himself on one arm while using the other to tease you. He rubs his cock pointedly across your clit a few times, soaking the head in your already dripping pussy, making sure to make a mess before starting to push in. 
It's a tight fit with limited prep, but you had thought ahead to have played with yourself a little before the night out, of course, you had thought you'd be having sex after a good night out... but still, you'd take any intimacy at this point. He groans as he bottoms out, breaking the kiss as his face scrunched in concentration.
"You feel so good, baby girl. Don't know if I'm going to be able to hold it long enough to make you cum." He teases, wiggling to test his limits.
"You aren't going to disappoint me again are you?" You put on your best 'concerned' look, realising quickly that it may have been too soon for such a low blow.
Instead of answering, he pulls back quickly, not giving either of you time to adjust before settling into a punishing pace. Each thrust leaves you reeling. You have to hold on to the sheets just to stop from being jolted into the bed frame. All the while he smiles that adorable gummy smile down at you. 
"I'd never let you down on purpose." He groans, slowing down just enough to kiss you quickly before picking up the pace again.
Your knuckles have gone white from holding on too tightly, You can practically feel the knots forming in the back of your hair. The sound of his skin slapping against yours is ungodly. But you can't bring yourself to care, too dick dumb to even finish trains of thought. 
Each thrust hits just the right spot, you can barely breathe each time he buries himself inside of you. The orgasm builds hard and fast, you don't have time to warn him before you are cumming everywhere. Squirting all over his thighs as he keeps driving through, chasing his own orgasm as you become over-sensitive. You whine as he begins to slow down.
Each motion becomes sloppier as he reaches his high, cumming hard all over you as he pulls out just in time to cover you. 
"Seemed only right after you got me all wet." He shrugs laying to your side.
"Not like I could help it." You groan.
"I wouldn't know, you've never done that before."
"I told you... I was really pent up..."
"All I know is I'm going to need you to do that again, maybe in my mouth next time." He gets a pensive look on his face as if he is already planning the next time as if you aren't both still panting harder than a sprinter at the Olympics.
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gxdsfavgal · 1 year
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Step Aside: 2
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Kook!Fem!Reader
Warnings: this is pretty long, does not follow OBX3 plot, arguing, slight trauma/ptsd?, not much here!
A/N: this is the house used in this fic…
You can read part 1 here!
-
-
2 months ago
“Are you done packing?” My dad asked from the bottom of the stairs, his voice echoing throughout our now empty house that I spent my whole childhood in.
“Yeah! Taping up the last box!” I yelled down from my room that no longer had posters and the ugly out-of-style paint.
I carefully dragged the box to the stairs, letting it roll down to the bottom where my dad carried it into the rented Uhaul. 
This was it. This was the last time I would ever live here. I’ve said my goodbyes to all my friends, the workers at my favorite cafe, the local florist that I always buy from. 
A clean slate. At least that’s what my parents said when they told me that we were moving to the house of my great-great-great grandfather in North Carolina. 
I was lucky enough that moving didn’t disturb my life as much. I didn't have to transfer colleges, due to my parents teaching me what is needed to keep up our family business when the time comes. All my friends go to university out of state so we were already used to saying goodbye after every break. 
I was taught not to get attached to materialistic things, the house being one of them. I was told that I should just be grateful and blessed that we had a roof over our heads and that we are fortunate enough to not have to worry about financial stability. 
I stepped out of the house, closing and locking the door behind me. My eyes scan over all of the little memories that have been covered up by a new layer of paint to give it a fresh look for the new owners. 
My relaxed sad state was ended by the honks of my dad in the Uhaul, telling me to jump into the family car that my mom was using to follow behind my dad to our new estate.
The drive was long with many bathroom breaks and sleeps at truck stops. I’ve been keeping up with the news in the area we are going to be living in. I guess a lot of teens create lots of trouble there, a church set on fire, lots of fights, and more.
The roadtrip came to an end when we pulled up to the historical house of The Outerbanks. It was huge, way larger than our old house. This house screamed Old Money, private driveway, private beach, it was money.
I’ve done my fair share of research on our family history here in the Outerbanks. My stomach turned at the disgusting history, and also at the sight of the house that held so many bad memories for other families. 
“You can pick out your room” My mom tiredly said as she put the car in park.
I nodded and stepped out of the car with a stretch to loosen up my muscles. I walked into the house with wide eyes and uncomfortableness. I definitely needed to cleanse this house with incense or call a priest over. 
I walked up the many stairs of the three floor house. I learned that it was a nine bedroom house and that it has ten bathrooms. Who needs that many bathrooms?
I settled for the suite bedroom on the top floor with the wrap around balcony, but across the house from my parents. My new bedroom had many windows, it was huge and had a view of the pool and the beach from the balcony.
knock knock.
I turned to the door of my room, seeing my mom leaning on the frame.
“We have dinner with an old friend of ours and their family, your dad has some of your boxes by the door.” she said before leaving to get herself ready in their room.
After a couple hours of trying to get my heavy boxes up three floors and getting ready, I was finally done. I was told to dress nice for this occasion since it was at a nice restaurant, so I just had to breakout the basic neutral dress that goes with anything.
I hopped into the family car with my parents and we were off to the restaurant. 
“So when is my ca-”
“Your car is arriving in a couple of days and the rest of your furniture in arriving tomorrow so you’ll be sleeping on an air mattress.” my dad listed out as he drove in the sunset sky.
We pulled up the restaurant and met my parents old friends and their son.
“And this is our son Kelce.” his dad gripped him by his shoulders, holding him in front with a smile.
“Y/N.” I shook the boys had before we all sat down in our seats.
That's where it began. Kelce was the only friend at the time so his friends took me in. I partied at the Mase with Topper and their girl friends. 
Topper and Kelce quickly told me the difference between Kooks and Pogues, and how to stay away from the Cut unless I need some weed or coke. 
When they found out I was the descendant of the founder of OBX, the news spread like fire. Everyone started inviting my family to dinners to network, their kids invited me to parties. 
When I threw the first party at my house everyone was in shock by the size. They saw our cars in the garage, the multiple bedrooms and bathrooms, the massive fridge, and very aged wine. That’s when I was hailed the “Kook Queen”. 
I quickly found out that one of the teens missing from Kildare was Toppers ex and the rest were Pogues. This town never amazed me with their secrets and news.
-
Present time
“Rafe Cameron huh?” I chuckled as I leaned into the bar.
Sofia playfully rolled her eyes at me. “It’s just a little play thing.” she whispered out as she shook another persons drink.
“Well I have a meeting with your little play thing and he is late.” I shook my head as I looked down at my watch.
“He’s a busy man.” she defended him.
“And there’s your busy play thing. Thank you Sof.” I sent her a smile as I placed down a 50 bill for just one drink.
Rafe walked towards me, a smile on his face as he saw Sofia working behind the bar. 
“Sofia, his drink is on my tab.” I told her before she put the bill into the till.
“Y/N.” he shook my hand firmly. “You don't have to.”
“It’s just business.” I nodded as Sofia placed Rafe's usual on the counter. “Shall we?”
He nodded and I led him to a secluded area of the outdoor seating. We both sat down away from the loud crowds.
“I got the word that the Cross of Santo Domingo is arriving tonight.” I spoke out as I crossed my legs and sat up straight.
His body tensed. “Where’d you get that information?” 
“Lets just say I do a lot of networking.” I smiled into my chilled glass.
“Okay okay. What is it you want?” he leaned into the table, sweat beading on his forehead.
“That is top secret. What we can discuss is price. I know your dad said t-”
“SH-” he jumped up out of his seat to cover my mouth with his palm. Everyones eyes were on us.
My hand went to his, pulling it off of my mouth. “It’s all good everyone, Rafe here just didn't like the joke I was saying.” I smiled to everyone and waved it off as they all went back to their own conversations. 
Rafe sat there with his leg bouncing and his hand rubbing the back of his neck. 
“I can see you’re not up for this conversation yet. How about we talk about it tonight?” I stood up and fixed my outfit. 
“Tonight?” he stood up in front of me, his body towering.
“You can have your boys bring it to my house at 9:30, party starts at 10. Then we can discuss in private.” I patted his shoulder and waved to Sofia in the distance.
-
It wasn't hard getting the house ready for the party. My parents had rules set and everyone followed those rules.
Rule 1: Everyone stays by the pool or beach unless they have to use the bathroom
Rule 2: No wet, sandy, or muddy shoes in the house
Rule 3: No sex in the house (go further down the beach for that)
That was it. My parents were always having dinners with other parents, traveling for meetings, et cetera et cetera.
It was 9:30 and the planners just finished setting out all the booze and other fun stuff out on patio. I had the music blasting already while some of my other friends were already here to make sure things stay safe while I have my meeting.
The doorbell rang and I immediately went to open it. Barry and Rafe had a large crate on a dolly, you can tell how it was just the two of them because of their sweat and red faces.
I opened up the door wider and showed them to the office on the first floor. They set down the crate on the floor, about to open up the wood.
“Let’s not do that now.” I stopped them by getting hold of the crowbars.
They both looked at me confused and wondering why I didn't want to talk business.
“Have some fun first. Loosen up.” I grabbed both of their shoulders and walked them out of the office, making sure to lock the door.
“Okay we can do that.” Rafe nodded repeatedly. 
I walked in front of them as the two boys followed behind me. More and more people began to show up and started to dance and talk by the pool. Some already in the pool and drinks in hand.
The music was blasting and people were jumping into the pool at this point in the night.
“Here are the drink selections, but if you guys want anything special just like me know.” I went behind the bar and started to mix a drink for myself.
“Need some help?” a voice asked from next to me.
I turn and see Sofia out of her uniform and in a more relaxed outfit with her bathing suit under.
“No you just got off work, relax!” I smiled to her before pointing to the seat in front of the bar.
Rafe and her started talking while I went ahead and made Rafe a drink, Barry already nursing a beer. Once I was done, I poured Rafe's drink into a cup and pushed it towards him.
“A mai tai?” his eyebrows furrowed while he took a sip.
“You seem like a mai tai guy.” I said as I rounded towards the boys and Sofia. 
“It’s my go-to drink.” he hummed into the cup.
“How are you liking the OBX so far?” Sofia asked, her arm wrapped around Rafes middle.
“The people are okay, the views are beautiful though!” Sof and I laughed together. “We will be right back. I have business to discuss.”
“Wait I thought you guys already had a meeting earlier?” Sofia looked up to Rafe with her eyebrows now furrowed.
“Mr. Cameron keeping racking the price up, but we’ll be quick I promise!” I squeezed her arm before leading Rafe and Barry into the house again.
I locked the office door behind us, making sure nobody went and interrupted this meeting.
“Open in.” I handed the two boys their crowbars.
The wood cracked and the nails were released, a sheet of canvas cloth covering the artifact. I pulled away the cloth and revealed the beautiful gold cross, the gold and crystals shined bright.
“How’d you know my dad is alive?” Rafe snapped, his whole persona changing.
“I never said he was. From what I heard was that his dying wish was for the cross to be donated to a museum, but thank you for cleaning up my suspicion.” I smiled up at him as I crouched down to inspect the cross.
“Why am I meeting with you and not your dad?” he asked, Barry just stood quietly leaning against the desk.
“Wow Rafe, your misogyny is showing. Better hide that before Sofia see’s it.” I knew how to talk to guys who thought they were the shit, it was easy to put them in their place.
I stood back up almost chest to chest with him, his heavy breath fanned against my face. “You’re meeting with me because I am in charge of historical artifacts, my dad is takes care of historical landmarks, and my mom takes care of the science part of all this.”
His shoulders relaxed and he backed away. I motioned for both of them to sit in the two seats in front of the desk as I sat in the big girl chair.
“Why does your dad want to donate it?” I crossed my legs as I opened the drawer to find anything to use to inspect further.
“Because he is a good man and wants it to be seen by others.” Rafe spat out quickly, Barry chuckled beside him which he didn't like.
“Rafe. I am on your side here, I know a lot about you, your dad, your sisters, especially Sarah.” His body straightened up at the sound of his sisters name. “I just want the truth.”
“Are you with Singh?” his eyes were wide and his fists were clenched.
“Who the fuck is Singh?” my own eyes were wide and I looked at Barry to see if he knew what he was talking about but he was confused too.
“Ay don't look a’me” Barry put his hands up in defense.
“Dude, my family is just trying to make money from other rich people.” I pulled out files with profiles of my other buyers. “These people buy shit like this, just for shits and giggles.”
“How does this work?” he pointed between us.
“I have a client that wants to see it. If they buy it, and it’s a big if, then I get 30 percent and you get the rest.” I crossed my arms and leaned back into the leather chair.
“Who’s your client?”
“I can’t say.” 
“I need to know. I need to do a whole background check on them, see if they’re connected to Singh.” Rafe listed all of these things rushed.
“Again with Singh! Who even is that guy?” I sighed as I took a sip of my room temperature drink.
“You shouldn't be in this business. I shouldn’t have brought the cross here.” Rafe stood up and his hands ran all over his face.
Barry stood up also, not knowing what to do and how to deal with Rafe.
“Rafe, calm down.” I stood up and walked over to him, trying to see if he was just fucking around.
“Calm down?” He yelled out. His voice making me flinch back into Barrys chest, his hands keeping me up. “I saw him kill a man! Singh is dangerous, y-you can't be caught up in this.”
My eyes searched his face to see if he was lying.
“Singh held me hostage and almost killed me because of this!”
I knew he was telling the truth. Nobody would take it this far.
“It’s just a stupid cross.” I tried to smile to lighten up the mood.
“It’s more than a cross okay? Way more than a cross.” his fingers rubbed over his lips.
“Think about it. This cross is worth 1 billion dollars, if you two are splitting the price after my share, both of you would get 400 million.” I looked at both of them with hope in my eyes. “We can do background checks, anything to keep everyone safe.”
His body looked over the cross that laid in the wooden crate, the gears in his mind moving in many directions. 
“I want a full background check on your client, their family, their friends, old teachers and classmates, everything. Anything that connects to Singh, I want nothing to do with it.” he looked back at me with worried eyes, the winkles on between his brow showed his much stress he’s been through.
“Deal.” I held out my hand.
He fully turned to me and shook my hand firmly, his arm tugging my closer to him so his mouth was close to my ear. “I’d take every precaution. Watch your back and don't trust anyone.”
“You’re not the only one who’s dealt with crazy billionaires.” I smiled up at him as I let go of his hand and backed away. “Load it up and hide it.”
-
-
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altsvu · 3 months
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three way phone part 1
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pairing: sonny carisi x peter stone x detective!fem!reader
wc: 1.4k
summary: a movie night with the boys is all fine and dandy until things get spicy.
cw: shameless flirting, a little smut
a/n: in honor of this fic officially sitting in my drafts for THREE years (1/3/2021), i’m gonna post it today :) i’m thinking of making this a two part thing, with part two being raunchy asf. this is my first time writing a 3some so enjoy lovelies! 😭🫶🏽
law and order svu masterlist! ✯ taglist!
✯✯✯✯
For a while you had been toying with Peter and Sonny because they both had feelings for you, even thought lately you had been more close with Peter. Two weeks ago, Sonny took you out to his favorite restaurant, and last week, Peter took you to a baseball game. You, Sonny and Peter hung out a lot after work if one of them weren’t spending time with you, and you were hoping for something more with one, or both of them.
“Y/N.” You turned and saw Peter coming over to you. You were the only detective in the precinct, Sonny had left to get ready for movie night. On the other hand you were chilling in the break room getting some paperwork done. That was something you did when you didn’t feel like sitting at your desk.
“Oh hey Peter.” You smiled.
“Hey there beautiful.” He said. He kissed your cheek before he sat down.
“You always find a way to flirt with me.”
“Ever since that baseball game, I’ve had even more feelings for you.”
His hand found a way to your thigh.
“Aww, Peter. Really?”
“Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I was hoping...”
There was a bit of silence between the two of you.
“That maybe we can spend more time together. Alone.”
“I- How did you know?”
You scooted closer to Peter.
“It’s written all over you.” You whispered.
You and Peter both knew the energy shifted after that. He moved closer and kissed you. You kissed him back and it was one of the best things you ever experienced. His hands went to your ass, gripping it so he could transport you from your chair to his lap. A squeal escaped your lips.
“Damn Peter.”
“Damn, is absolutely correct. What’s on for tonight?”
“I was thinking Gothika or the Invisible Guardian, since you boys don’t want to watch romance movies.”
“I think we know how that would play out. But I would kill for some Naked.”
“Ooh, Naked sounds good. I’ll tell Sonny when he gets there.”
Peter smiled and looked at you.
“What?”
“Nothing. You just look beautiful sitting on my lap.”
You kissed him then slid the paperwork closer to you so you could finish it. You shifted in his lap so that both of your legs were facing the table and you let him grip you by your waist. Peter watched as you completed your DD5’s. At one point he pushed some of your hair back.
“Peter...” You smiled. “Very tempting of you.”
Your phone went off with a text from Sonny asking you if you were still on for sitting in on the civil court case he’s working with Pippa Cox for with him. You replied with an “Of course! I can’t wait!”
“You planning on being a lawyer?”
“I haven’t thought about it. I’m just really interested in the court system. Plus, if I ever decided to, I have one of many great former and current ADA’s I can go to.”
“Am I on that list?” Peter whispered.
“Top 3.” You whispered back, finishing the last component of the 5. “Okay. I’m done.”
“Good. I can’t wait to see what you wear later. “
“I’m sure you can’t.” You smirked, getting up from his lap. “Accompany me to Liv’s office and my desk?”
“Of course.” Peter got up and grabbed you by the waist as you were fixing up the papers.
“Peter!” You shrieked. He chuckled and pulled you closer to him, then kissing your lips. After your little make out session, you stopped by Liv’s office and placed your forms on her desk along with a small note, then went to your desk to grab your things.
“So... I’ll see you in about an hour or two?” You asked after getting outside.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
A grin formed on your face. “Bye for now, Peter.” You planted a kiss on his cheek and then went on your separate ways.
✯✯✯✯
You had just finished getting dressed and spritzing yourself with a body mist. You wore a pink silk spaghetti strap cropped v neck, a pair of pink and flower patterned tie up sleep shorts, a black silk long robe, and white fuzzy socks. Going to the kitchen to set up snacks, you heard the doorbell rang and when you went to check, it was Sonny.
“Sonny!” You squealed when he kissed your cheek and gave you a tight hug and lifted you off the floor a bit. You closed the door behind him when he put you down.
“You look beautiful for someone who’s hosting movie night.”
“You think I’m overdressed?”
“Of course not, doll.” Sonny stepped closer to you and his hand made its way under your robe. It slowly slipped off and there was a moment of silence between the two of you. Sonny’s hands then went to the sliver of bare skin. “What you’re wearing is just fine.”
“Good.” You whispered. You planted a kiss on his cheek and walked over to the kitchen to prepare the snacks.
You already had the wine out, two bottles of everyone’s favorite cabernet sauvignon to be more specific, and you wanted to prepare a small charcuterie board with several cheeses, meats, grapes, and dark chocolate. You enjoyed doing things like this, it gave you a sort of satisfaction. People always praised you for bringing the best snacks and things of the sort.
Sonny followed behind you and offered to help you set up and make a pretty display. While setting up, the doorbell rang and you went to get it.
“Y/N,” Peter started, looking at you with a smile on his face.
“Hi Peter!” You smiled back. He pulled you into a hug for a little while. “We’re in the kitchen.”
Now finally, the three of you were here and ready to get the party started. You spent some time with them in the kitchen playing around by tossing and playfully feeding each other pieces of cheese, grapes, and chocolate. You were having fun. You liked hanging out with Peter and Sonny, and they liked hanging out with you just the same.
After a little while doing that, the guys helped you finish your display in the living room with the last of snacks, and then it was time to settle down.
✯✯✯✯
“Are you boys getting bored?” You asked, taking another sip of wine.
After many glasses of wine and a fee snacks remaining, the three of you had finished the first movie, and was on the second movie you chose.
“Oh dear Y/N, very, very bored.” Peter joked. He draped an arm around you and looked at you passionately.
“Boohoo.” You mused. You turned to look at Sonny who was sitting beside you as well. “Sonny?”
Sonny smiled. “Never with you.”
“You’re so cute.” You smiled, planting a small kiss on his nose.
Peter’s hand trailed along the bare parts of your body. “I think… we can have a lot more fun on our own.”
You looked back at Peter, noticing the fierceness in his eyes. You let that same hand caress your cheek. Peter wanted to do his own thing, give you pleasure, and he wasn’t gonna let you go easily. He moved closer to you, his hands moving to your thigh.
However, you weren’t gonna give in. Not that easily. You sat there, letting Peter seduce you until you reached your breaking point. The softest moan escaped your lips. Sonny watched in amazement as Peter continued to seduce you. He turned your head to face him and he leaned in to kiss you. It was soft but also rough. You gave in and kissed him back, pulling him closer to you. You guided his hand to hold your waist. While kissing Peter you searched for Sonny’s hand to touch you as well. You could tell Sonny was hesitant, but when you felt the warmth of his body touch through the thin piece of silk that was the robe, you knew he wanted a piece of you too.
Sonny slipped a part of your robe off and kissed your bare shoulder, then went up to your neck and sucked on the soft skin. You had stopped kissing Peter at this point and he was leaving kisses on your chest. He slipped off the other side of your robe and as of now, the two men left you with bare shoulders.
“Boys. I think we should take this to the bedroom.” You whispered ever so shallowly.
✯✯✯✯
taglist: @storiesofsvu @averyhotchner @ssaic-jareau @detective-giggles @blackbeautifulqueen @lapaquerette @itsjustmyfantasyroom
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Text
—the flood
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SUMMARY | an alert on your phone reminds you just how short life can be
PAIRING | cc!quackity x reader
REQUESTED | no
WARNINGS | death, angst, no happy ending, a bit unrealistic
WORD COUNT | 1k+
AUTHORS NOTES | an old idea i had scrapped for over a year. might be a bit choppy so bear with me
📜 Masterlist 📜 Navigation 📜 Rules 📜
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A bright light blinded (Y/n).
Grumbling incoherently, they rubbed at their eyes sleepily. A wave that resembled nausea swept over them, their bed way too comfy to be getting out of right now. Besides, there was no way it could even be close to morning yet.
It took them a few moments before scraping up the strength to open their eyelids.
Their half asleep body fumbled around for a moment before eventually finding the source of the light that was currently burning through their retinas. Picking up their phone with a sigh, the first thing they saw was the ungodly hour.
"Who the fuck texts at four in the moring." They hissed, pissed off at the unknown notification.
(Y/n) scratched away at some of the crust that had gathered around the edges of their eyes as they pulled up the screen with a flick of their thumb. They sighed while starting to read the message.
Then their heart stopped.
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The soft noise of bare feet on carpet emitted from the living room. (Y/n) had found their way into that part of the beach house where their boyfriend lay. Dead asleep on the top of the couch; where he always went when he was having trouble sleeping.
He was wrapped in a mountain of blankets, beanie astray—probably halfway across the room somewhere. Normally (Y/n) would take the moment to admire him, maybe even laugh for a moment or two about the drool trickling down his chin. But all they could focus on right now was staying up right and putting one foot in front of the other.
"Alex." They whispered softly, though a tremor or two could be detected. "Alex, wake up. It's important."
The males arm sluggishly shot out and he grabbed their wrist. He pulled them into a warm embrace, smiling faintly with mischief. Even in his sleep he still found time for jokes.
"M' sleepy." He sighed out, tickling (Y/n)'s face with his warm breath.
"Alex." They raised their voice to the edge of panic, now resorting to violent shakes as a way to jump start his body into gear. "Get up. It's an emergency."
His eyes fluttered open lazily.
"Don't tell me the cat got out again." He joked with a slur. He was clearly drunk on sleep.
"Alex please."
His eyebrows furrowed slowly. Begrudgingly the couch cushions beneath the both of them dipped with his shifting weight. Quackitys hands went to rub at his eyes. Trying to show his partner that he was being serious now.
"S goin on amor?" He managed through a yawn. (Y/n)'s heart seemed to stop working at the question.
Not knowing what else to do, they reached shakily for the phone in their back pocket, turning it on and opening it to show him the same notification they had been sent not but ten minutes ago.
Quackitys face dropped.
"There's a tsunami coming Alex. And we can't get out of here."
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The couple had been sitting at the rentals kitchen for about an hour now.
Two piping hot cups of coffee laid untouched in front of them. The beverage seemed about as apatizing as their situations right now. Neither of them had really wanted anything of the sorts, but nonetheless the coffee machine had been booted up. Maybe out of routine, maybe to find comfort. But whatever it is they were searching for, they wouldn't have to look much longer.
It had been Quackitys idea to go on this little vacation. The streamer life had been catching up to the both of them, and they agreed that a break was long overdue. It had been the perfect plan. A week long vacation at a beach just a few hours away together. A rental house, plenty of sun, and some decent restaurants nearby to get drunk at and sweetly kiss each other after one too many glasses of wine.
All of that seemed so far away now. Like it was for nothing.
"What do we do now." Talking to (Y/n) felt like trying to swallow a mouthful of dry cotten.
"We can't take the evacuation roads. Their all backed up." Quackity answered them with about as much emotion they had put into their own question. Which is to say none.
Throughout their entire relationship with him, (Y/n) had rarely seen Quackity this beaten up about anything before. This whole situation felt like a fever dream at first, but just seeing the look on their boyfriends face when they realized neither of them were gonna make it out alive really sealed the deal.
"I mean." Quackity sat up straighter, reaching out across the table to shakily grab (Y/n)s hand. "We could just enjoy the time we have left."
"Oh yeah? An hour left of our lives to do what. Watch t.v?" Their half-hearted attempt at a joke landed poorly, though he didn't seem to mind.
"No." He shook his head. "I mean, maybe tweet out a goodbye and turn our phones off. Then just, talk. Be with each other for the last bit."
(Y/n)s hand went limp in his own for a second before tightly squeezing back. A silent agreement to what he was proposing.
"This has definitely been a good last week to end things on. Just me and you. I don't think either of us have thought about anything other than how much fun we're having ever since we got here. And I wouldn't want to ruin that now." His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed down whatever emotions he was feeling at the moment. (Y/n) watched it, feeling their own eyes sting with a new set of tears.
"I don't think anything could've ruined you for me Alex. Not even this stupid fucking tsunami." (Y/n) smiled. They wanted to stop the water works, but once they saw Quackity trying to do the same thing it was over.
The pair slowly walked over to the couch Quackity had been peacefully snoring on not so long ago. Wrapping each other in the others embrace instead of blankets this time, they waited for anything to happen as they talked about anything and everything under the sun. Quackitys first stupidly edited video. How they met at a Chipotle of all places. Going to England the first time together to visit friends. Him learning he got into lawyer school. (Y/n) finally reaching 1 million subs. How Techno would be proud of them both, and also probably calling them nerds. It was as if a strange calm had washed over them. Nestling into their hearts as they sat contently on the couch.
And that's how they sat as the wave of water crashed over the pair, ending the tether of their lives with a quick snip.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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yanderecrazysie · 3 months
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Hi! I was wondering could you make a Yandere! Oikawa x Reader? but in FNAF AU :))
where the Reader would be the new night guard at Freddy Fazbear and she accidentally found a broken animatronic that were actually filled with Oikawa's ghost. (basically Oikawa is William Afton or smth)
*sorry for my bad English, english isn't my first language :(*
The FNAF movie was freaking amazing- my husband watched it twice. I hope this turned out okay, I struggled to find a way to make this work. Some things might be off, since I don’t know everything about the games.
This turned out really long, so I had to rush the end a little.
Title: To Spring a Trap
Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, FNAF AU, implied murder, swearing, Oikawa is literally William Afton
Summary: Your new job at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza attracts someone’s attention.
Part 2: here
spring a trap
/phrase/
capture someone or something (such as an animal or criminal) with a trap
The pay is awful and the hours are downright terrible, but it’s your only option in such a competitive job market.
You had never pictured yourself as a security guard and, if it weren’t for the hiring manager’s insistence that nothing ever happens at night, you wouldn’t have taken the job. 
“It’s just that teenagers could break in if we leave the place empty,” the manager had explained, “No one’s ever tried to break in when we have a security guard on duty.”
The pizzeria used to be a broken-down mess, until the new owners got ahold of it and reopened it to the public. You had heard all sorts of rumors about why it closed down, but the main theory was that there had been murders many years ago (long before you were born) and the place had shut down because of the tragedy.
You couldn’t tell that the pizzeria had ever been a rotting, crumbling mess. You had taken your niece and nephew to visit several times and the place was always alive with bright colors and noise. The rainbow ball pit was your niece’s favorite and your nephew loved the arcade games. The three of you would eat pizza and watch the four animatronics on their respective stages, singing along to the music blasting from the speakers. Chica the chicken with her “Let’s Eat” bib, Bonnie the bunny with his electric guitar, Foxy the pirate fox (your nephew’s absolute favorite) peeking out from behind his curtains, and, of course, center-stage, Freddy Fazbear with his microphone held up to his smiling mouth.
It was a charming place that you found amusing enough to not check out completely while watching your nephew and niece. Kids sure loved it- there always seemed to be at least one kid celebrating their birthday each time you visited. 
It was completely different at night.
The pizzeria was eerily silent, devoid of laughing children, music, and arcade noises. The stage lights were off, casting unnerving shadows across the animatronics’ faces. Everything felt wrong about this place and you’re not sure you can ever see it the same way. You rubbed the goosebumps on your arms, willing your chills to go away.
An arcade machine turned on suddenly, a whirl of colored lights and loud music, and you jumped about a foot in the air. It turned off again and, clutching your chest, you made your way to the security office.
It’s a cramped room, with only enough room for a chair to pull out between the wall and the desk. TV screens showed the different camera angles from both outside and inside the restaurant. You looked closely at the outdoor cameras, pleased to see no movement on any of them. Taking a seat on the plastic white chair, you pulled yourself up to the desk. It’s a little too tall compared to the chair, and the desk came up nearly to your shoulders because of it.
By 4 am, your eyes were growing heavy. You’re bored out of your mind, even though you know that an uneventful night is a good one. It’s all you could do to keep awake. 
To keep from falling asleep, you decided to stretch your legs. The silent pizzeria was as creepy as it was before, and you found yourself gravitating to the show button, hesitantly pressing it. The stage sprang to life, a song from the ‘80s playing through the speakers. The animatronics swivel around, back and forth, Freddy’s microphone raised as though he’s the singer of the old song.
You amused yourself by watching the animatronics move around on the stage, wishing you knew the lyrics to the song, so you could sing along. Despite your nerves, a warm smile spread across your face. 
It wasn’t long before your attention drifted and you decided to explore. The kitchen was all shiny metal, with one counter clearly having missed cleaning time, bits of sticky dough dried on the silver surface. The next room you checked was a storage closet and you left that one quickly, unable to stand the extra animatronic heads with their empty, eyeless stare.
The last door you got to was locked. You grabbed your skeleton key and turned it in the lock. There’s a click, indicating it had unlocked, but the door remained stuck. Your brow furrowed and you pushed it harder. Before long, you were putting your shoulder into it. You can’t explain why, but you’ were drawn to this room. You needed to see what’s inside.
The door finally opened and you stumbled inside. It’s dark inside and you immediately searched for a light switch. The lone light bulb hanging from the ceiling clicked on, and you found what appears to be another closet. The room was empty, except for one thing.
It’s either an animatronic or one of the old springlock suits. You could barely tell it’s a rabbit in its ripped, rotten form. The fur was matted and off-color, with spots that looked suspiciously like blood around the ribs.
Suddenly, you sensed a presence. As if someone had just walked into the room. You whirled around, but you saw no one, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. 
“Hey, cutie!” A playful, masculine voice sounds somewhere near your left ear. You scream- you’re not ready to face vandals or thieves on your first day on the job!
But there’s no one on your left either. 
As soon as you began to think you imagined the voice, it talked to you again, “It’s been a long time since someone came into my room. Who are you?”
Your heart threatens to pound right out of your chest, “Y-you first!”
The voice laughed. It’s a handsome, sweet laugh that sets you at ease. There’s no malice in it.
“My name is Oikawa Tooru, I guess you could say I’m a ghost.”
You had always believed in ghosts, so this wasn’t too much of a shock to you, but it was still frightening to face one in real life. “Can you show yourself?”
“Anything for you, cutie.” Oikawa chuckled. Slowly, a pearly white figure comes into view, standing in front of the broken rabbit suit. He had naturally windswept hair and a sweet, welcoming smile. “Now, your name?”
You tell him your name and he purrs, “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Heat blossomed in your cheeks and you hoped your embarrassment doesn’t show. He’s charming through and through, but there’s something to him you can’t explain. He seemed lonely, as though he’s been without human interaction for so long.
Your watch beeped, signaling the end of your shift. You jolted a little, brought out of your reverie. “I- I have to go,” you explained, pointing at your watch awkwardly.
“I understand,” Oikawa smiled sadly, “But you’ll visit me tomorrow, won’t you?”
“Of course!” You found yourself saying immediately, and you meant the words. You’d never met a ghost before, especially not one that was such a handsome, charming man. It was embarrassing to admit, but you were quickly developing a crush on this ghost you’d just met, and you scolded yourself for your thoughts.
That crush only grew over the next month or so. You continually visited the storage room with the off-yellow rabbit and Oikawa’s spirit. The two of you talked for hours, and you felt guilty for barely checking the cameras or patrolling.
Maybe that’s the reason your curiosity got the better of you. You decide to look up Oikawa’s name, to see how he died and who he was in life. One quick Google search brought up way more results than you could have ever imagined.
Owner Oikawa Tooru apologizes to families of missing children. 
Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza shut down by owner Oikawa Tooru.
But worst of all: Oikawa Tooru, owner of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, murder suspect of four missing children. 
There were tears in your eyes when you confronted him the next night, “Did you kill those children? Tell me the truth!”
Oikawa’s pearly white face twists in thought, clearly trying to find an answer that you’ll accept. You had already made up your mind, though, and you find yourself yelling at him.
“How could you? You killed four innocent children! And then you apologize to their families for them going missing? They never even got bodies to bury!”
Oikawa let out a little laugh at that, “Yes, that’s one of my more ingenious ideas. No one would think to look where I hid them.”
To hear him confirm it sent a dagger through your heart. Disgusted, you spit out, “I’m glad you’re dead, you evil bastard.”
Oikawa merely smiled back at you, “Careful what you say, cutie.”
You flung the door open, prepared to leave and lock him up for eternity in the damned closet where he belonged, the closet you should have never forced open in the first place. 
You stop dead when you find all four animatronics blocking your path. “What the hell?”
Chica’s arms shot out and grabbed your waist tightly. You let out a scream and tried to squirm out of her grasp, but she easily lifted you into the air.
Oikawa chuckled from behind you and you craned your head to look at him. He gives you a little shrug and malicious grin, “Sorry, cutie, but I got attached to you. Can’t have you leaving quite yet.”
“What are you going to do?” You gasped, kicking out at Chica as she began to carry you away.
“Don’t worry, (Y/n), it’ll be over soon. Death doesn’t hurt much.”
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heavyhitterheaux · 2 years
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Bottomless Mimosas
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AN: I was laughing the entire time writing this lol I hope yall like it
Synopsis: First time out at brunch with your best friends after giving birth to your twins
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader
Please do not repost my content anywhere
"Oh shit, help her up!"
There you were in the bushes next to the parking garage outside of the restaurant you and your best friends just came out of.
You just wanted to go out with your best friends and get a much needed break from being a new mom. You were grateful, but having had two at one time was catching up to you. It's been four months since you had them with your husband Jack and he called your best friends to take you out for the day.
The day had been going fine until the mimosas came out at approximately 11:23 am.
It was now almost 2 pm and here you were drunk off your ass.
"I'm trying! Y/N give me your hand."
"No! I have a boyfriend! I'm not a cheater!"
"You actually have a husband. Girl, come on before someone sees us."
"Oh my gosh, my head is spinning."
"I guess so. You had like eight drinks."
"Ohhh, don't tell Jack. We can wait it out."
"I'm already calling him because you can't even stand up. This is not something we can wait out. We'll be here for hours."
"Nooooo. I can walk."
You attempted to get up, but fell down again.
"Oops."
One of your best friends Courtney sat you on the curb and sat next to you to help keep you from falling over.
You could barely sit up straight and you damn sure couldn't walk.
Thank goodness Courtney had driven you.
Your other best friend Amanda was calling Jack and he picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Jack we have a situation."
Before Jack could respond to Amanda, all he heard was you screaming in the background.
"Babyyyyy, I miss you." with a hiccup proceeding directly after.
By then, he knew you were fucked all the way up.
"Please don’t tell me that's Y/N in the background." Jack replied while pinching the bridge of his nose. 
"Umm, well you see what had happened was...” 
All Jack could do was sigh before grabbing his keys and making his way to the garage. Thank goodness the twins were with his mom.
He thought it would be a good idea for the three of you to go out together, however, due to past situations which almost involved the three of you getting arrested he should have known better. 
“Just drop me the location, I’m coming.”
By the time Jack had reached you, everything was starting to spin and you had a feeling what you had eaten for brunch was going to begin to make its way back up.
You had your eyes closed and suddenly felt someone sit on the other side of you.
“Baby girl, I know I told you to go out and have fun, but damn.”
You peeked one eye open before proceeding to lay your head on Jack’s shoulder.
“I don’t think I drank too much. I told them not to call you and to wait it out.” Hiccup.
“We beg to differ and you need to sleep this shit off. Wait it out my ass.” Courtney added while stifling a laugh.
“Whatever, oh my gosh, JACKKK someone was trying to hit on me and I held up my hand and said no, I have a boyfriend.”
“We’re married, but go on.”
“No, don’t let her go on because it was me trying to help your dumbass up once you fell in the bushes. No one was trying to hit on you.”
“Waiiit, we’re married? When did that happen?”
“About three years ago.”
“Wait until she finds out about the twins.” Amanda added while trying not to laugh as the scene unfolded in front of her. 
“I HAVE KIDS? WITH WHO?”
“With your HUSBAND.”
“Who’s my husband? I’M MARRIED?!”
“Jack honey... Jack is your husband and he is literally sitting right beside you.”
“Ohhh, I thought you looked familiar. I think you’re the lock screen on my phone.”
All three of them sighed and determined they were done with trying to convince you of anything. 
“Okay pretty girl, let’s get you home.” Without another word, Jack threw you over his shoulder and started to make his way toward his jeep.
“Byeee best friends, I love you.” You yelled out before letting out another hiccup. 
Amanda and Courtney waved and said that they loved you before making their way to their own cars while Jack was attempting to put your seatbelt on.
“Stink, sit still so I can put your seatbelt on.”
“I’m not even moving.”
“But, you are moving, put your arms down.”
You complied and laid your head back on the headrest to try to keep your head from spinning. One wrong move and you were about to throw up in your husband’s car.
Once Jack had started driving, you couldn’t do anything but stare at him.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer. And stop looking at me like I’m something to eat.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you ate me. You look really good. I mean you look really good every day, but...”
“No, you’re drunk and we are NOT having sex.”
“But whyyyyy? And I’m not drunk! Do you not love me anymore?”
“Y/N, I MARRIED you.”
“But, that doesn’t mean anything!!”
“Babe, sit back and try not to throw up in my car.”
“You won’t have sex with me so I should throw up in your car.” You pouted while crossing your arms and looking out the window. 
“SERIOUSLY?”
A few hours later, you woke up and saw that there were two excedrin migraine pills and a bottle of water on the nightstand next to you. It was starting to get dark outside and you came to the conclusion not to drink so much next time. 
But, I mean you only had about five...or was it seven?
Your head was pounding and you took them quickly before deciding to lay back down. You had the comforter over your head when you felt Jack sit next to you on his side of the bed.
“You alright over there, stink?”
All you could do was groan to let him know that at least you were alive.
“I take it that’s a no.”
“Do not EVER let me go out with them again.”
“Babe, you say this every single time and a few weeks later the three of you are back at it. Remember the time the three of you almost got arrested?”
You lifted up the comforter to simply give him the middle finger before covering yourself back up. 
“No one asked you to bring that up Jackman.”
“I’m just saying. Are you hungry? I brought food for us.”
At the mention of food, you jumped up and made a beeline to the bathroom with Jack following quickly behind you and threw up everything that you ate earlier in the day. Once you had finished, Jack fixed your bonnet since it had fallen half way off because of your quick movements and placed a wet washcloth on your forehead. You proceeded to brush your teeth before sitting back down on the floor. 
“Well, that answers my question. Come on.” Jack helped you up off the floor and lead you back into the bedroom before you plopped down onto the bed face first.
“Babe, give me the cloth so you don’t get the bed wet.”
“Can’t.... move.”
Jack sighed before turning you over and bringing you to rest your head on his chest.
“You know you said earlier that you didn’t know you were married or had kids.”
“What the fuck did they put in those drinks? Was I really that bad?”
“Yeah and I should’ve recorded it. You were convinced I didn’t love you anymore because I told you we weren’t having sex while you were drunk. I should have known it was about to be some shit when it comes to you three.”
“Oh good lord and we aren’t even that bad!” You peeked up at Jack to see him trying not to laugh and you simply hit his chest.
“I can’t stand you.” You replied while pouting.
“Love you too stink.” Jack placed a quick kiss to your forehead before you heard your phone go off letting you know you had a text. 
Jack handed you your phone and you opened it up to see that it was the group text between you, Amanda, and Courtney. 
Courtney- Y/N, if you aren’t dead we’re going out next weekend
Amanda- I would be surprised if she’s even awake
You- Bitch, say less. Where are we going? I’m readyyyy
“Who is that babe?”
“Amanda and Courtney. They want to go out next weekend.”
“Seriously?” Jack had a look of disbelief on his face and was praying you would sit this one out. 
“Yes, I have to get my outfit together. Should I wear the new black dress I got or the red one?”
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