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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 2 months

Text

And then there were three.

Eddie munson x pregnant!reader

Summary: you and Eddie find out you're pregnant.

Warnings: fluff, talks of pregnancy, pulling out, condoms etc. Talks of sex. Kissing.

WC: 2.5k

A/n not proofread. I'm posting because it's been rotting away in my drafts. Sorry if this isn't good. I don't even remember what it's about.

18+ minors dni

"This can't be real..." You whispered to yourself as you stared blankly at the piece of plastic in your hands. Staring at two little pink lines.

Two little tiny pink lines telling you you're pregnant. How? You and Eddie have always been careful. You used protection every single time you had sex.

You've had scares in the past where your periods were weeks late. But when you ended up being over a month late this time around. You decided it was time to take a test. You had a gut feeling you might have been pregnant.

You were exhausted more so than usual. Extremely sensitive and had nausea every morning and evening. Were you surprised? No. Shocked? Yes. There was a little part of you hoping you were wrong. A baby right now just wasn't in yours and Eddie's plan.

You've only been dating for almost two years now. While having a family with him is something you do want. Getting a head start right now just wasn't ideal. You only just moved in together this past summer.

Now that you hold this little test strip in your shaking hands, you know you'll have to break the news to your boyfriend eventually. He's out in the living room watching The Golden Girls. A show you never would have guessed was his favorite. You heard his laughter echoing around the trailer during the cheesecake episode.

Was he going to be mad? Would he scream and yell at you? Blame this all on you? You thought to yourself. You felt like you were going to throw up out of nervousness.

No. Eddie wouldn't be upset with you over something like this. He isn't that type of person. No matter how others viewed him to be. He isn't like that. You can't even remember a time he raised his voice to you. You soothed yourself down, taking deep breaths.

Opening up the bathroom door, you make your way over to him.

"Hey baby, come watch." He pats the cushion next to him.

You swallow hard. "Uh, can we turn this off for a sec?"

Eddie looks up, noticing there was something very wrong with you.

"Uh, sure." He grabbed the remote, switching the tv off.

"Well, there isn't any better way to tell you this, so I'm just gonna say......I'm pregnant." You blurted out.

Eddie laughed at first. "Pregnant. Okay." He takes a sip of his beer. His laughter quickly died when you saw the serious and very scared look on your face.

"You took a test?" He gulped.

"Yeah, just a few minutes ago." You swallow another lump in your throat.

You immediately start to panic again, "We're always careful. I don't know how this happened."

Eddie stands to quickly be by your side. He hasn't really had time to process what you just told him. His immediate focus right now is calming you down.

We're careful...WE'RE ALWAYS CAREFUL!" You shouted. Your face is growing hot, and you feel like you could pass out any moment.

"You always wear a condom you fuckin' keep them in your wallet for christ sake"

"I know, baby, but I mean those things don't always work," Eddie reassured you softly, rubbing your back.

"We're always careful." You repeated again.

"Well, let's think back to when we weren't careful." He's trying to help put the pieces together. There had to have been a time when you both were so caught up in each that he didn't put on a condom or something.

"When was there a time I didn't at least wear one?"

"I dunno." You tap your fingers against your forehead. While Eddie guides you to sit down on the couch. "There had to have been a night - where - we..." You trailed off.

"My parents," you gasped loudly, snapping your fingers together.

His brows shoot up, and his eyes widen. He suddenly remembers that night very, very well. But he pulled out. He knows he did.

"When we stayed the night because of the storm" You continued on. The memory of that night flooding back to you. That was it. Eddie had promised to pull out right before he finished - yet obviously didn't do it in enough time.

There was something in the air that day. You couldn't pinpoint what it was. You had told Eddie to behave, but at dinner, you were the one misbehaving. Teasing him a little. Trying to get a rise out of him. You didn't think he was still going to be worked up even after it was time for bed. You were wrong. Very wrong.

"Huh," Eddie sounded utterly perplexed. He moves to sit down next to you. trying to bring you any amount of comfort he can offer.

"Huh what?" You repeated back to him. Why wasn't he as freaked out like you?

"Jus' the fact that I got you pregnant on a pull out couch is fucking ironic" He was in disbelief. Absolute disbelief. He knew pulling out wasn't his strong suit, but he never thought from just that one time would get you pregnant.

Was Eddie upset you were pregnant? No. Not at all. Having kids with you was something he always saw in your future together. How could he be so stupid, though? He thought. The one time he doesn't use a condom and you get knocked up.

"Are you--are you joking right now?" Your mouth hangs open. "Don't joke, please don't joke."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Everything will be okay. " He pulls you to him. Your head lays flat against his chest. He was trying to be supportive, but on the inside he's freaking out. When he freaks out, he makes dumb jokes to lighten the mood. Something he knows he shouldn't have done, but it's too late now.

"Sooooo at yours parents place it was then." He draws out leaning forward to rest a hand under his chin.

"I guess." You murmured.

Eddie smiles fondly to himself. He most definitely remembered that day. That night, most importantly.

"....well," He perks up, jumping up to stand. He was trying to be as optimistic as possible. Truthfully, on the inside, he was freaking out. If you weren't sitting there in front of him right now, he would probably be pissing himself. Eddie knows you would be an amazing mother to his children. He most definitely knows he would be a great father, too. A complete contrast to how his father was.

"Time to make some calls." He was already heading for the phone when you panicked, running over to stop him. "We can't not yet--i need to see a doctor first."

"To make sure I am...I mean I know I am, but I need confirmation,"you further explained. Eddie just stood there listening to you and agreed as he silently nodded his head.

"Okay, well, after we see the doctor, who are we telling first? Your parents or my parent?" He was so eager to tell everyone. He was terrified, but the more he thought about it, the more excited he became. A tiny little version of you and him mashed together, running around.

"We'll tell Wayne first." You said matter of factly. You loved your parents, but you were closer to his uncle. He was like a second father to you, and you couldn't imagine anyone else knowing before him.

Eddie smiles and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

"You scared?" He whispered leaning his forehead against yours.

...a-a little, but we'll be fine." You whispered back. The longer it sinks in that you're pregnant, the panic seems to fade. Eddie wasn't angry with you. He was scared you could tell but that's to be expected.

"Don't be scared, baby. We're doing this together." He reassured before kissing your lips softly again. "M'gonna take care of you both."

It's been three weeks since you took your pregnancy test and had your doctor's visit. They confirmed you were, in fact, expecting. Two months, to be exact. You were greatfull you got pregnant in the winter. Oversized sweaters and hoodies were your best friends. Now, it was time to break the news to everyone.

Eddie and you had already agreed. Wayne was going to be the first to know. You had everything planned out. You had told Eddie to call his uncle and ask if he wanted to go out for dinner. Knowing Wayne, he wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to spend time with either of you.

You wanted to surprise him with a gift. You know Wayne has a green thumb. He loves to garden. He brags about how he has the best tomatoes in Indiana. So you took Eddie shopping for the perfect gift to give to him as a cute way to tell him you and his nephew are having a baby. You hope he'll catch on and figure out he's going to be a grandpa when he opens his present. It's a little onesie with "Home grown" embroidered on the front with little veggies.

"I like this one." You pointed at the cute little outfit on the hanger.

Eddie chuckled,reading the front. "Wayne's gonna love it. Hell won't be surprised if he tried wearing it." He joked, picking up the tiny shirt off the rack.

You giggled, "I can't wait to tell him."

"Me too, I can't keep my mouth shut for much longer." He mumbled, smirking at some of the funny sayings scribbled on the baby clothes.

The longer you came to terms with the fact that you're pregnant, your stress eased up. Sure, you were still scared, but you had Eddie and your friends. Plus your family. You reassured yourself almost daily that you'd be fine and to enjoy your pregnancy. Every single article of clothing you saw you bought. Didn't matter the color or size. If it was cute, you picked it up.

Eddie was a nervous wreck in the beginning but concealed it well. Mostly because he knew he needed to be there for you. he was also excited, too. He couldn't wait to share his hobbies with his little one. Read them bedtime stories. Sing to them at night before bed. Teach them to play an instrument or two. He looked forward to showing up to the PTA meetings in his battle vest with his sweet "mini me" on his hip.

Eddie knew he was going to be a good dad. He promised you and the baby still in your tummy every night he'd protect the both of you. He couldn't keep his hands off your belly. You weren't far along in your pregnancy, but Eddie was constantly hoping he could feel a little kick.

"We should do the dinner today." Eddie mentioned holding a handful of baby clothes.

"He might wanna to do it tomorrow since he's off."

"I'll call'em when we get home and ask. he can't say no to me." You agreed. It's true Wayne can't say no to you. Which you will take advantage of.

Later on that day after you and Eddie arrived home. You put Wayne's surprise in a little gift bag with a note attached to it.

Picking up the phone, you began dialing his number patiently, waiting for him to pick up. He should be home by now. You thought. "Hey Wayne, it's me, your favorite. I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me and Eddie tonight instead of tomorrow? "

Eddie leaned closer over in the wooden chair sat by the dining room table. He scoffs when he heard you get extatic on the other end. Knowing full well, his uncle said yes.

"You will? Okay, we'll pick you up at five o'clock sharp."

"Favorite, huh?" He crossed his arms with a smirk.

"You know it." You playfully mess up his hair as you run to your bedroom to get ready.

"Yeah, well, I've known him longer... I have seniority over him!" Eddie yelled out, teasing you.

He gets up from his chair, making his way to your shared bedroom. He stands there leaning in the doorway. Admiring you getting undressed in front of him. Taking in every curve on your figure.

Eddie moves to wrap his arms around you from behind. Pulling your back tight to his chest. His nose buried in the crook of your neck. You smiled softly, melting into his arms.

"Ya know, I was reading that baby book you bought it said something about sex helping induce labor." He whispered seductively in your ear. His lips trailing light kisses down your neck.

You turned your head."...Eddie, that's not until months from now." You let out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah, but just think about how well prepared you'll be when the time comes - kid is just gonna slide right out." Eddie argued. You know half of him is joking, and the other half is completely serious.

"Get dressed, babe. we leave in thirty minutes." You peel yourself from his tight grasp.

"Offer still stands." He holds up his hands in surrender.

Fifteen minutes went by, and there was a loud knock at your front door. His uncle had driven over so you all could ride together. After much bickering from Wayne, you all packed in Eddie's van.

Wayne refused to let Eddie drive, so it was you and him upfront with your boyfriend sulking in the backseat. Mumbling to himself about how he's not that bad and how everyone else just drives slow.

You noticed Eddie's uncle looking at the small gift bag you made up for him. His eyes kept wandering over to guess who it was for and what was inside.

Once all three of you pulled up in front of the new local diner in Hawkins. You three gathered in and let the hostess walk you over to your table. You and Eddie sat next to each other in a booth, leaving wayne alone across from you. The waitress comes over taking everyone's orders. After she left, you figured it was the perfect time to give it to him.

You look up at Eddie, nudging his side to grab his attention. His uncle just got done scolding him over his breaks needing change.

"So uh, we got you a present," Eddie coughed. He doesn't think he can handle more lectures from the man who practically raised him.

But he straightened up his back, preparing for anything.

"Yep here you go hope you like it." You picked up the bad next to you and placing it front of him.

"For me?" Wayne grabbed it and started taking the tissue paper out. "It ain't ma' birthday yet."

He laughs when he pulls out the tiniest little shirt he's ever seen. "Home grown, that's cute...I don't think it's gonna fit me though darlin-."

He cuts his sentence, short eyes growing wider by the second. You and Eddie look over at each other, smiling from ear to ear.

"Is this what I think it is?." Wayne questioned with tears threatening to spill over his lashes.

"Yep we're having a baby." Eddie moved to wrap an arm over your shoulder and pulling into his side.

"We wanted to tell you first." You choked back a sob.

Wayne still gathering his thoughts. He's holding the small onesie in his hand like he's already holding your newborn baby.

"I-I'm gonna be a grandpa?" Wayne wiped at his eyes. His was starting to become overwhelmed.

Here come the tears from Eddie now. His eyes swelling up and nose turning red. He's never seen Wayne this over come with emotions before. The only time he's ever seen him like that is when his dad started his usual mess. That was always just out of anger and frustrations mostly. This was pure joy and happiness. Wayne has always wanted the best for his nephew.

"We're thinking of naming them, Ozzy." Eddie tried to joke and lighten the mood.

Wayne couldn't say anything but only shake his head at nephew. He cleared his throat, grabbing napkins from the dispenser on the table.

"We are not." You spoke up, wiping your eyes.

Your food finally came, and the waitress gave all three of you a concerned look. A table full of adults bawling their eyes out is a cause of concern. Especially in this town. It was only when she noticed the tiny onesie folded up neatly beside wayne on the table, did her worry look drop. She mumbled a soft aww and set everyone's food down.

"Congratulations to all of you." She said with a warm smile.

The rest of the night went on like normal. Except now instead of Wayne fussing at Eddie for not eating healthy. He was doing that to both of you. Telling you how you need to order seconds because you're eating for two. Informing Eddie how the trailer needs to be baby proofed immediately. The only thing left to do was tell your parents next and his friends. You can only assume which of the two is going to freak out the most.

You leaned over and whispered to Edde, "You wanna tell Dustin next ooooor-?"

He side eyed you. " We're telling your parents next - if it makes you feel better, I'll be on the phone so they can yell at me instead."

"Deal?" Eddie leaned back in the booth, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was busy focusing on Wayne's ranting and your concerns about telling your parents.

You sighed, dreading that phone call, but knowing it needs to be done. "deal."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x pregnant!reader

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indulgentdaydream · 3 months

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Hello luv, first of all... I LOVE NURSE!READER!!! OH god the last lines were soooooo heartwarming for my social worker heart!! LOVE LOVE IT 🩷🩷

So, may I request a Jason x reader again but with a little something... Jealous Jason because reader and Roy know each other longer than Jay and reader and then he gets all jelly and and—! Oh god I love a jealous petty man.

Missy when she fucks up the queue and queues this post for NEXT YEAR by accident 🫣🙃 NEXT YEAR?? LIKE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED LAST FRIDAY AND I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THAT IT DIDN'T GO UP

anyways AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH your words are already heartwarming ♥️

I loveeee jealous jason imma cook this up so quick just you wait and see (i wrote this when i first made the draft and i found it funny to leave it. It’s literally been a month I’m so sorry)

I also made this into headcanons because I had a VISION and did not think to give it any justice. (koi youre seriously my number 1 supporter i hope you enjoy this garbage I just threw up, really)

Pining!Jealous!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: slight jealousy (not too overly consuming), alcohol consumption

Roy had invited Jason to hang out at the bar

Bros being bros

except...

Roy brought you along (because he KNOWS Jason has got a fat crush on you whether or not he’s told him)

(He tried to convince roy it’s not a crush, but always fails because his whole demeanour changes when you walk in the room)

examples:

he's always going to be standing beside you, consciously or not

jason isn't always a tense guy. But he for sure isn't as long as you're talking to him/looking at him/etc. (but if you put your hand on his arm/touch him in any way, it's game over)

your name is brought up, he's listening SO INTENTLY

like a dog when it hears its favourite word

Anyways

The three of you are sitting in a booth

It was originally you and roy before jason showed up, the two of you on either side

Jason shows up and just sits right next to you. No hesitation.

You and roy are laughing away, recounting stories and telling jokes.

Jason is just... really quiet

unusually quiet

He doesn’t look at you guys, rather looking out across the bar, trying to hide the fact he’s feeling this way

That he's feeling unreasonably jealous of his best friend

who literally brought you FOR JASON

He knows it’s stupid. He trusts both of you. You two are the two people he trusts the MOST

He hates that he’s like this, but he can't help it

Roy's better than him. You've known him for longer. He's making you laugh harder than Jason ever has. He's better looking, too. Older. More experienced.

His thoughts are clogging up his head. He's really not listening anymore, just holding his beer, eyes scanning the bar floor, watching the other patrons.

Then Roy is standing in front of him, saying something about using the bathroom.

He is giving a VERY pointed look at Jason.

a "make conversation with your crush or I'm shoving an arrow down your throat" kind of look

Jason felt a little stab of genuine anxiety shoot through him.

He's talked to you alone before. Many times. You two were friends, of course. He doesn't know why this is how he's feeling right now.

Then your hand is resting on his forearm.

Poor boy is still so caught up in his head he just looks down at your hand for definitely a second too long before finally meeting your gaze

Your gaze with those stupidly pretty eyes.

Then comes that horrendously pretty voice, "You alright?"

He nods. Shrugs. Like a stupid teenager who doesn't know how to handle his emotions.

He has to admit he's still a little tense about your attention being focused more on Roy. But not to you. He'd never admit it to you. You'd probably find it unattractive and then he'd really never have a chance.

“Yeah, no, im enjoying the talking. Always forget how well you and roy know each other”

“Oh yeah he just knows how to get me going. You know how he is”

Jason doesn’t know how he does it.

Like some leap of faith.

Some, jealousy super-powered leap.

He tries to be non-chalant about it.

“It’d be nice to do this again sometime. Maybe without Roy around.”

BOY'S HEART IS POUNDING

Sipping on his beer, looking down at it instead to avoid eye contact with you so he doesn't lose his cool.

Or someone show on his face that he is actually shitting bricks

You don't respond for a second and the alarm bells start going off in his head

WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY-

"It would be nice," you say, "Could we make it a date instead?"

He's smiling, turning to nod at you, "Course we can."

But his internal dialogue is just straight screaming at himself

"IDIOT YOU SHOULD'VE MADE IT OBVIOUS YOU WANTED IT TO BE A DATE IN THE FIRST PLACE"

The things jealousy will make you do

Roy comes back and sits down

Jason's into the conversation now

It doesn't really matter that Roy is still making you laugh

because he's not the one holding your hand under the table

AH I HOPE YOU LIKE -missy

I also love a jealous petty man (as long as it doesn't become toxic and he doesn't use it as an excuse to be an asshole)

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood #dc #dc x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x you #dc x you #dc x y/n #jason todd x y/n #jealous!jason todd x reader #jealous!jason todd #cw jealousy #cw alcohol consumption #missy writes

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julianalvarez9 · 9 months

Text

CHANGE YOUR MIND / MASON MOUNT

SUMMARY: You never really liked Mason Mount, even before he came to your club. Turns out, he's a very persuasive man, who will do everything he can to change your mind.

PAIRING: mason mount x ten hag!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: mason is a lovesick fool, use of ten hag as a plot device i'm so sorry

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's been agesssss since i've posted something, so here's this! (something's that's been sitting in my drafts and i didn't dare finish for almost a month!). would reallyyyy love some feedback!

Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, resting calmly over the cap of his car, hands hiding inside his pockets. Mason looks straight out of a movie; one where the protagonist is waiting for his lover outside of their home. You try to not think about that, or about the warm feeling in your chest, as you angrily make your way towards him.

Once you reach him, you're ready to voice your concerns about his presence in your parents' home. "What are you doing here?".

The urgency in your voice only made the Englishman grin harder, if that was even possible.

He shrugs, clearly not preoccupied about the matter. "Came to see a friend, offer her a ride to work". You roll your eyes, annoyed, because obviously, this is Mason. This is the same insufferable guy you've got to know for months now, ever since he signed for Manchester United.

By looking at the watch on your wrist, and knowing your dad's entire routine, you know you two are running out of time. "C'mon, Mount, you need to leave!", you urge, and he tilts his head in confusion. "What? Why?," as if his entire life, at least, sport related, wasn't threatened by the man about to walk out the door.

"Did you hit yourself on the way here? Did you happen to forget who I live with?".

He shrugs, again, claiming "I don't mind". A second after, "he actually likes me. More than you do, at least". It's not the first snarky remark he throws your way, but it's still too early for you to pretend he hasn't got a special capacity for getting under your skin.

"I'd like to see if he continues to like you when he sees you talking to his daughter in his front yard".

You're right about that.

Yeah, Mason is your dad's new shiny toy, awarding him with being a constant feature in the starting eleven in every United game, but you doubt he'd be alright with whatever he's trying to do. After all, he never liked any of your past boyfriends, or friends who he -somehow- recognized as undeserving of his little girl, his only daughter. "I think he will," Mason says confidently, "I'm actually a great son-in-law, you know?".

You swear it is too early in the morning to have rolled your eyes the number of times you have in his presence, during the past three minutes. You ask, hopeful that the sly remark works to get him off your back. "Has being this cocky actually helped you, in some way?".

When his smile falters, you grin. It's probably the first time he doesn't have something, anything, to hit back, and you consider it a win for your side. "It did," he answers truthfully a beat after, and now his smile is bigger than ever. "Look, you're smiling at me".

You try, hard, to stop your cheeks from going red, but the way you can't really hold his stare any longer is a win for him. He basks in this feeling, knowing himself to be able to make you nervous must be a good sign, right?

At least, he hopes so.

"Okay, stop fucking around or you'll be late," you warn, coming close enough to him to push him off the hood of his car, and towards the driver's door. You try to ignore the way your fingers burn after touching him, deciding not to acknowledge the warning signs that something had changed in the past few weeks. You don’t despise him nearly as much, but you’re not keen on the idea of him knowing about it. Yet.

Mason opens the door of his car, and gets in. You nervously watch back, to the entrance door, after seeing what time it is. 9:13 AM. Your father will be out the door, any second now.

You hope that, the next time you look to the street, the car will be gone, and any trace of the Englishman vanished, like a dream. But instead, when you turn again, the tinted window of his car is down, and he's looking mischievously at you. "Already caring for me? that's new, Ten Hag".

"Go away, Mount".

Hearing the door open, just a few seconds after seeing Mason's car disappear from your street, makes your blood turn cold. The piercing question from your father doesn't make things better. "What are you doing over there?". There’s nothing you could possibly say that will convince your father, and saying the truth isn’t a possibility right now; so, instead, you defuse the question. "Nothing, nothing. Are you ready to leave now?".

The way to Trafford Training Centre is quiet. Your father isn't one to talk much normally, but the silence squishes you until you feel like you're holding your breath. He knows, you're sure, and you’re gonna make Mason pay for it.

That’s it, if you reach the training ground alive.

"You know, I think Mason is a good kid".

The affirmation is nowhere what you had expected your father to say, so you can’t hide the furrowed brows and defensive tone that comes along with it. "We're in first name base already? Wow, that's new".

The car stops in the red light, and your dad takes the time to turn his head in your direction. He sees your fixed gaze ahead, brows still furrowed, and his head tilts in confusion. "And he's trying really hard to get in your good graces".

"That's not true".

A beat.

"I saw him this morning".

After that, you're left waiting; either, for the disapproving voice in his tone, the yelling, or the pointing out reasons why you shouldn’t be this close to a player, much less someone like him. But instead, he’s silent. And somehow, the silence is scarier.

The air feels thick, and it’s scarily similar to how it feels when a storm is brewing. Hot, too heavy, and like the entire sky is about to fall apart. And a few minutes after, with the car finally parked, and the training center standing tall just a few meters ahead, Erik begins to talk.

“I don’t have a problem with it. Whatever it is”. In other circumstances, you’d laugh at the way he signaled with his hand when saying it, almost like dismissing the entire ordeal, as if he still, so many years after introducing other boyfriends in the past few years -not one that’s worth mentioning, though-, refused to acknowledge that his little girl is not so little anymore.

“I know I always said it’s not a good idea. And I still don’t think it is,” he remarks, but holds a finger up before you can’t argue against what he’s saying, “but, as I said, he’s a good kid. And, most importantly, he’s aware that if he breaks your heart, he won’t play anymore, so-”.

The horror in your eyes must be evident, because he starts laughing before you can tell him off because of his antics. “Dad!”.

“So, you can go out with him. Just don't break his heart, yeah?” You can’t even respond because he gets off the car then, taking his things with him before closing the car door. Yes, you come in together, but since you insist on keeping family business out of the club, Erik begins making his way in alone. “Could really use my star player having a great season".

In the distance, you can see Mason; he’s smiling widely, with a coffee cup in his hand, and standing just by the door. He opens it, to let your dad in, and you shake your head in feign disapproval. “Right, Mount?,” Erik calls, alluding to his previous statement; the one he can’t possibly have heard, given how far he was when he said the words. Between the three of you, you’re not the only one that knows that it’s a test, so Mason answers accordingly.

“Yes, sir, of course”.

#football imagine #football imagines #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football fanfic #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine

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dumplingsfordays · 8 months

Text

tutoring sessions

Dan Heng x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - your tutor (and friend) gets a little hot under the collar after you tease him, and things escalate a little (by a little I mean a lot).

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), friends to (implied) partners, oral (dan heng receiving), praise, virgin!reader, virgin!dan heng, all characters 18+, kinda subby dan heng (he's also very vocal hehe), voyeurism kinda, reader is referred to as 'good/pretty girl' but that's really it for gendered language, implied that dan heng's still v thirsty for reader once the fic ends 👀

note - this is my first smut fic so I'm sorry if this is badly written 😭😭 dan heng might be a little ooc but I'll just roll w it... I was working on a fluff version of this but I accidentally posted the draft and I couldn't un-post it so I'm crying rn it was so long too-

and as always, thank you for reading :)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"And today's topic..." the raven-haired man flips to a page in the calculus textbook that he's holding, "is mathematical induction."

"That sounds super hard!" you sigh playfully. "Can we please do something else?"

"Sum and product identities?"

"No!"

"How about-" he flips further, "-sigma notation?"

"Also sounds super hard."

"But it isn't."

"You say that everytime!"

"We do have to start somewhere, though," he remarks with a small smile.

For a split second, you remember where this whole thing actually started. Ah yes, your room, six months ago... when your parents hired him and you came downstairs to find a complete stranger your age sitting at the dinner table. You remember being confused about what classes you shared with him - he did seem familiar in a way, so you just assumed that you had some shared classes. Back then, he was very quiet, very low-profile, and look at him now! Talkative, compassionate, cheeky (only sometimes), kind... if you really excelled in English class, then you might've called him a bloomed flower or something else of the sort. He looks so different now, though - you don't know if it's the chill of the night air that's trickling through the open window by your desk, or the soft, mellow glow of the fairy lights strung up around your room, or if it's just your stupidly big crush on him... it's probably the latter, now that you think about it.

"Well, I don't want to start anything." You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, relishing in the way that you can practically feel his mock-disappointed gaze on you.

"I guess we'll end the sessions here then," he sighs. You weren't sure if he was kidding or not - something about his tone hinted that he wasn't, so, not really thinking it through, you spring back forward to the table and cup your face in your hands with your elbows on your desk. You look up at him in desperation.

"There's no need to do that," you pout, "I just don't feel like doing anything, you know?"

"Come on, let's just finish at least one lesson today," Dan Heng urges, leaning in a little as he does. He smiles encouragingly and pats your back, but you're still not planning on giving in to the agony of work.

"Why do we have to do that, though?" you whine, now folding your arms on your desk and laying your head down on them. It's now his turn to lean back in his chair.

"Okay, so what are you lacking in right now?" he asks, running a hand through his hair to get some wild strands out of his eyes. "Why don't you want to do anything today?" You hate yourself for the fact that you felt your face redden at his action.

"Lack motivation, probably," you bury your face in your arms now, trying to hide the prominent blush on your cheeks.

You hear him hum - a low, pleasant sound. "Motivation..."

As you hear seconds tick by on the clock across the room, your heartbeat calms down and just as you're sure that the redness covering your face and the tips of your ears has faded-

"Just be a good girl and if we get through at least one topic tonight, you'll get a reward. Is that good enough motivation for you?"

You tremble at his voice. It's persuasive and smooth and deep and makes something deep inside of your stomach flutter - was he messing with you? Did he know about you having a crush on him and was teasing you?

You tilt your head to look at him and instantly regret it. He's leaning in so much that you can feel small breaths of air escaping him as he breathes, his eyes trained on yours.

Then he leans back again and smiles, still keeping eye contact, while you, wide-eyed, bewildered, gawk at him.

"Just kidding." The audacity to say that! After you thought that he was flirting and actually took it seriously! Oh, you just had to get revenge.

"No, no, I'll do it," you raise your brows in defiance, a cheeky smile dancing on your lips. "I'll be a good girl."

This does him in. Now he's the blubbering fool, mouth opening and closing like a fish's, trying to process what you said. The fact that you could make Dan Heng, the least expressive person you've ever met, turn into a tomato from just a simple sentence was extremely satisfying.

"You don't have to," he stammers. In a few quick movements he's back at the table, arms folded in his lap. You notice that they're not relaxed, no, his hands are balled up into white-knuckled fists - should you really keep on teasing?

Immediately, you decide that yes, you should.

"But I want to."

For a split second you think that you heard something, maybe a faint meow from a stray cat or a little creak of the walls, but then you realize that the sound came from a much closer origin. Dan Heng, at this point, is tense all over - you can see his jaw clench and his fists growing tighter, nails probably leaving small white crescents in his skin. He's doubled over, too, like he has a stomachache. At this, you immediately feel regret, and all the seductiveness and sass from your voice vanishes in an instant, replaced with concern.

"You okay?"

"Yes," he says, still avoiding eye contact, "Yes, I'm good- can I just go to the bathroom for a sec?"

"Are you..?" You trail off, scared to finish your sentence at the possible implications. He swallows thickly and stands up, trying his best to cover his problem with his shirt, and just as he's about to exit your room-

"You can stay, if you want to..."

He slowly turns his head around, totally stunned at your words.

"I mean," you babble nervously, "my parents are still home, and there's a chance that they'll see your- um, friend, and..."

Before you can internally slap yourself for letting your mouth run like a river, he swivels around fully and his hand leaves the doorknob.

"You're sure?" he whispers.

"Only if you are," you reply, looking directly into his eyes, and Dan Heng awkwardly trudges back over to sit beside you on your bed, a blush dusting his face.

"I don't really know how to start," he admits, "I've never really... you know."

"Me neither," you reply with a nervous chuckle, trying to make light of the situation. "I mean, if you're up to it, I guess we can start with, um, kissing, or something..."

As if on cue, he leans towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand, and your eyes close as your lips touch.

It's your first kiss, too, so you don't really have anything to go off of, but this kiss makes your knees weak and you press your hands against his broad chest, seeking stability. He wraps his other hand around your waist at this action and as the kiss deepens, his lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, eventually coming to rest on your collarbone, where he plants another kiss and leans further into your touch.

You, meanwhile, reach for the tent in his sweatpants and start to rub it though the fabric, eliciting a whine from the larger man. He bucks up into your palm, desperate for more friction, and raises his lips to the shell of your ear, whimpering and quietly gasping in overwhelming pleasure. His large hands finally settle on your waist and his fingers dig into your skin as you continue your ministrations and smile into his shoulder.

"Please," he begs softly, "need to feel you 'round me."

He didn't need to tell you twice as you immediately get the hint and drop down to your knees in front of him. You hook a finger over the band of his sweatpants, tugging at it while looking up at Dan Heng with pleading, wide eyes.

He mutters an expletive when he lifts his hips up, cheeks reddening every second that passes, and as the clothes pool around his ankles, you can see the outline of his thick cock through the material of his boxers.

You decide to tease him (again, and you will never get tired of it because his reactions are way too cute to stop) and glide your fingers over the bulge, at which he squirms, but doesn't dare to take his eyes off of yours.

His hips rise again, and another article of clothing is shed, but this time his lower half is completely naked, so you finally get to see what he's been packing in there.

It's gorgeous compared to the ones that you've seen online. It's standing at attention, slightly twitching whenever your hot breath meets the tip. Dan Heng sees your eyes widen and swallows nervously as you subconsciously lick your lips.

"Is it not...?" he trails off, eyebrows furrowed.

You shake your head, still mesmerized. "No, no, it's very pretty."

He whines when you lean closer to it, eventually bringing it to rest against your cheek. You look up at the man as your hand wraps around its base and you hum at how warm it is.

"You ready?" you ask. You're rubbing your thighs together at this point - his half-lidded eyes, red, swollen lips parted in a sigh, and cheeks dusted with pink elicit a reaction from you like no erotic content ever could.

"Yes- yes, (y/n), please, need you so much, please," he gasps desperately, hands reaching to his sides and grabbing the blanket underneath him. You fulfill his request with a light kiss to the red tip of his now-leaking cock (at which a whimper escapes his lips and he almost bucks up) and take it into your mouth.

His long fingers weave through your hair at the back of your head in an attempt to feel more of you - you then moan, sending delicious vibrations to his cock which throbs in appreciation.

"You're s'warm," Dan Heng hisses through his teeth above you, tears about to fall from his watery eyes, "so, so tight, fuck! Such a good girl f'me, yeah-"

You take more of him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as his tip hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflex activates and your throat constricts - the raven-haired man above you nearly chokes at the feeling while you drag your lips off of his cock.

"'M sorry," you whisper as you slowly stroke it, feeling it pulse in your soft hands.

"Don't be, that was - ah - felt so good," he pants. "You okay, though?"

"Yeah, 'm all right... can we continue, though?"

"Please."

You stop stroking it and attempt to fit it all in once more, sharp gasps coming from the man above you. You almost reach the base, but his tip prods against the back of your throat so you have no choice but to suck it, bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Rogue specks of your saliva land on it just to pool on your lips as they hungrily come back down his shaft.

He's arching his back from the pleasure, applying a little pressure to your head to guide it in a steady rhythm. His hips start bucking up faster and faster as he gets close to his orgasm - he's shaking his head, screwing shut his eyes as deep, throaty groans are ripped from his chest.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... doin' so well, pretty girl - ah! - makin' me feel s'good, yeah? 'M gonna cum, baby, just keep - fuck - suckin' me off like that like a good girl, please, fuck, please-"

Eventually he can't take it anymore. His hips are now wildly thrusting up into your mouth, lower abs flexing at the movements, he's panting, drooling, and crying all at the same time - it's so overwhelming and it feels so amazing that he cums with a single, broken moan.

Dan Heng's chest is heaving up and down as he comes down from his high, soothing hand petting your head gently. You attempt to stand, but fail as you topple back onto the ground, laughing.

"Cock so good you can't stand back up?" he teases jokingly, and lends you his hand so he can pull you back up onto the bed.

"Hah, you wish," you smirk back and giggle again. "So, what are we then? Are we still friends, or have we been demoted to student and tutor again?"

His eyes narrow and cloud with lust as an idea pops into his head - you swallow nervously when you meet his darkened gaze. He grabs your wrist and pushes you back, his other hand now greedily kneading your thigh.

"We'll see after I repay you."

#dan heng #dan heng hsr #hsr x you #hsr fanfic #honkai #honkai star rail #dan heng smut #hsr smut #star rail smut #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #hsr #i really only started to simp for him once his il form came out 🫣#like pls marry me id do anything

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berry-potchy · 9 months

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I went through my drafts and found this. I typed this during a moment of weakness for cliche chick flicks and fuckboy Miguel:

This is not edited and messy but I just wanted to share that I'm thinking about a very typical and silly high school coming of age romance setting with the popular broody bad boy x wallflower good girl except that Miguel is already so down bad for (obsessed with) good girl who btw is chubby and cute.

What's on my mind rn is kid Miguel and kid reader were childhood best friends/sweethearts. You were neighbors and your families were close. One day, for some reason you had to move away. This was maybe when you and Miguel were like 7. You were inconsolable during moving day and Miguel's poor little heart broke at the sight. He confessed to you then and asked you to be his girlfriend and you said yes and you kissed him on the cheek and you guys hugged until your parents had to pry you off each other so you can leave. Your parents felt really bad that they had to separate you from your best friend and what they thought was pretend boyfriend but the move was a canon event.

You weren't able to keep in touch, you weren't able to make many friends in your new place either. Like you had friends but they kinda have their own separate friend groups that you're not a part of. You were kinda just there, mourning your loneliness. Growing up you always had that ugly feeling of missing out and the "what if I didn't move back then?" in the back of your head. But one day, you're already like what? Last year in high school? You get a notif on your IG that a Miguel liked a photo you posted from a few months prior (it's a rare photo of you wearing something that shows off of your curves and feeling it). It's odd. You've posted a lot more photos since then. You check the profile and it's your Miguel... but he grew up HOT. Tall, wide, jacked, but it's the same Miguel with the pretty brown eyes and dark loose curls that he now styles slicked back. You follow him thinking he won't notice because of all the pretty girls who comment on his pics but never get replied to. But he followed you back immediately and sent you a 'hey' on DM. You didn't know what to say at all so you just stared at it until he replied ':/' followed by 'see you soon. you better have something to say to me by then.'

Later that day your parents drop the bomb that you're moving back to your childhood home. Next to Miguel.

Not to get into too much plot I just really wanna think about Miguel welcoming back his girlfriend and wanting to make up for lost time which gets you super flustered by his advances and shamelessness. You can't quite tell if he's just teasing you about the girlfriend part but the flirting definitely feels for real.

Your parents telling you to keep the door open when he goes up your room to hang out and you get embarrassed, stuttering that you're not planning on doing anything sexual. Miguel however shrugs and goes "I wouldn't trust me in a room with you either. I would eat you up"

And during lunch at school you cant find a seat, you try to look for Miguel but the scary popular kids are flocking around him. He looks like he's so bored but perks up when he sees you walk by and grabs your wrist to make you sit with them. Some random girl mockingly goes "oh sorry there's no space for you here" and you feel humiliated. Miguel shuts her up with a glare and makes you sit on his lap. No one dares to speak up as he tries to feed you with the snacks from his tray. He's squeezing your thighs enjoying the feel of you on his lap while he goes "I remember you liking this (insert snack or boxed drink here) so I got you an extra one, chula"

There's really nothing else to this I just thought it was cute and had to share.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #potchy-thoughts #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #potchy-writes #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x chubby reader

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planetkiimchi · 3 months

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the language of flowers | l.jn

featuring: film director!jeno x artist!reader (no gendered terms), jaemin, chenle and jisung cameos

summary — jeno doesn't speak of his affection in words. instead, he teaches you that the letter "L", in his love language of flowers, is for lavender lozenges, lily of the valleys, lockets and love.

author's note: damn the stars rlly aligned for me to post this one... originally was just gonna let it rot in my drafts but here i am posting it for @strxbrymochi 's bday. happy belated bday ki !! muah ily

You should have been prepared for Jeno to be constantly busy when you started dating him four months ago. But it still comes as a shock to you when Jeno sits you down on a Saturday afternoon, a plate of violet cookies placed in front of you.

"I'm sorry," he begins. The moment the words escape his lips, you know what this is all about. Even so, you keep quiet, allowing him to continue with the apology he's prepared.

"I've been signed on to do a short film, and they want us to do the shooting overseas."

Although you knew it was coming, it still comes as a punch to your gut. Being away from Jeno is hard for you, and you don’t want to let him go.

"Where to?" you ask, the words coming out before you can stop them. It's too late now to tell him to stay, and you curse your brain for being two steps behind your stupid, ever-running mouth.

"London. It's a Victorian era film, they said, about flowers."

You permit yourself a small smile. "You love flowers."

Jeno looks down, nodding once. "Yep."

You reach over, tilting his chin up. "Look at me."

He does, eyes quivering anxiously while he waits for you to speak. You’re always the one talking—rambling—and now that you’re silent, it must scare him. You touch your forehead to his, and you feel him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Don't be sorry. Go, and enjoy yourself. Pour your soul into it. I'll wait for you to come back, okay? Don't forget me when you're busy working with everyone else."

Jeno lifts up his hand, and you press your palm against his, fingers interlocking with his. "Won't forget you," Jeno mumbles. "I couldn't ever forget you."

You grin, kissing his nose. "I know you wouldn't, silly boy."

—

As Jeno wheels his luggage over the smooth airport floor, he turns to look over at you, shuffling your feet and staring at the ground. He leans over, whispering in your ear, "Blue salvia."

Think of me. It's one of the first flowers that Jeno gave you before you started dating, a secret confession you only learnt about when he finally told you what it meant. Now, it serves as encouragement for you, something to accompany you when Jeno can't.

You smile at him, eyes wide and pensive. "Have a safe flight."

Jeno wraps you into a hug, burying his face in your hair. He doesn't know when he'll get to see you again, and he's not sure if he can survive these months without you. But for both of your sakes, he'll try.

"See you later, alligator."

"In a while, crocodile," you reply, the familiar words a promise between the two of you to weather this storm together.

—

Jeno sits in his seat, flipping his phone in his hand as he waits impatiently for the plane to take off. He tries his best not to look at the time, trying not to count down the seconds in his mind, trying not to keep track of how long it's been since he last saw your face.

An announcement starts to play, asking all passengers on the flight to turn their attention to the flight attendants as they begin the safety briefing. Jeno looks at the flight attendant, but doesn't process the words he's hearing, his mind too focused on the thought of you.

He slips his hand into his pocket, his fingers finding purchase. The plastic crinkles in his palm as he draws the object out, realising that it's a sweet. You told him once that you always have to bring sweets when you’re flying, to suck on in order to prevent your ears from getting blocked.

Jeno has packed the mints you asked him to, but they're in his bag. He swiped the lavender lozenges from your stash that morning, a keepsake to remember you by on the trip. As the pilot announces that the plane is taking off, Jeno pops the sweet into his mouth, the taste of sugar and lavender dissolving on his tongue.

He misses you.

—

Jeno is rudely awakened from his sleep by Jaemin shaking his shoulder. "Good morning," the elder says in a singsong voice, and Jeno's eyes spring open. He casts Jaemin a dirty look, but the latter just grins back at him.

Jeno sighs irritably, getting to his feet and hauling himself out of the bed. His heart's not in it—not in this trip, and maybe not even in the film—and Jaemin knows it.

However, it's not like either of them has a choice. Jaemin liked the script for this film, and Jeno did too. He had plenty of ideas for the film. Despite it being a small project, Jeno believes it can turn out much better than people are expecting it to.

The only issue is that it's not in Korea. It's far away from you, and Jeno needs you in more ways than one. You are his source of comfort and his pillar of strength, but most importantly, you are his muse. Without you, he finds himself unable to function, not knowing which step to take next. Because all he wants to do is find the path that leads back to you, even if it's the worst or stupidest decision he could possibly make.

Longing gnaws at him every day, carving a giant you-sized hole in his chest. He snatches his copy of the script off the table, and Jaemin takes a sweeping glance over the room.

"You've surprisingly tidy for someone who looks like he has zero motivation to keep things organised."

"That's because all of my shit is in my suitcase, so I'm prepared to go back at the shortest notice."

Jaemin rolls his eyes at Jeno's retort, clapping his hands together. "Alright, smartass. Get moving so you won't be the last one to arrive again."

Jeno tugs on his shoes, slipping his hands into his coat and taking an umbrella before getting out of the door.

—

Your takeout arrives earlier than expected, and you suddenly recall that you haven’t checked your mailbox in almost a week. Usually, Jeno's the one who does it, collecting mail while waiting for the elevator to arrive. When Jeno had just left, you had made a conscious effort to check the mailbox every day, but now that it's been almost a month, you’re starting to forget again.

You pick up the takeout box and place the food on the table before exiting again and heading downstairs to check the mailbox.

As per usual, the mailbox is full of bills, although usually the number of letters is much fewer. You mindlessly flip through the envelopes, not paying much attention, until one of the letters catches your eye.

It's sealed with wax, which strikes you as odd—who even uses wax to seal envelopes in this day and age?—and you place it on top of the other letters to examine later.

Upstairs, you neatly place the letters on the dining table for you to settle later on. Then, you turn your attention back to the sleek, cream-coloured envelope, intrigued.

You take a closer look at the wax seal, realising that it's a stamp of a flower bouquet. Could it be from Jeno? you wonder.

It doesn't seem very likely, however. Jeno has never been one for dramatic flair, and the simple yet elegant letter practically screams dramatic. There's only one person you knows that's this dramatic, and it's…

"Donghyuck," you breathe out. One of Jeno's college friends, Donghyuck is the definition of dramatic. He loves to exaggerate and make a big fuss out of everything, and it's entertaining to say the least. Donghyuck is also chattier than most, similar to yourself, and the two of you had hit it off when you first met at one of Jeno's college roommate's place.

Donghyuck is essentially your key to Jeno's past. Jeno has been a solitary creature for all the time you’ve known him, and he doesn't talk much about his life before he met you. Besides Jaemin and Donghyuck, Jeno doesn't initiate much interaction with his old friends either. His friends respect that, so you don’t know much about what Jeno was like in the past.

However, Donghyuck is different. He loves to bring up embarrassing memories, inside jokes, and tell people old stories about his friends. You have always loved to listen to Donghyuck talk about Jeno in college, or even his first impression of Jeno when he saw him around in high school.

If it weren't for Donghyuck, you might not even have known about Jeno's friends' whereabouts now, nor have gotten to know about them.

Remembering the letter in your hand, you hurriedly get a hairdryer to heat up the seal, gingerly removing it and opening up the letter.

Dear Jeno and Y/n, you are cordially invited to Lee Donghyuck and Ha Yeon-seok's wedding...

Wait, what? You read the first line again, your heart stopping when you see the word “wedding”. Wedding? It takes you a few seconds to remember that you’re 24 now, which is almost a reasonable age to get married at. Since neither you nor Jeno had dated anyone for a while before you got together, sometimes you forget that other people have been dating for years now.

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, and continue reading.

The wedding is to be held in London, and it briefly crosses your mind that Yean-seok is half British. Once you’ve processed that information, you do a double take and check the date. It's in six months from now, and you have to get presentable clothes that fit the colour scheme within that time period.

While you’re wondering now to get the clothes in time, your phone dings.

jeno: hey, y/n you: hello jeno: i have... news.

Jeno calls to inform you that, regrettably, there has been a complication with some of the scenes. For one scene in particular, they had arranged for a horse carriage to be used during the filming. However, due to a miscommunication, the horse has been sold to someone else instead.

The screenwriter insists on having the horse be a specific breed for stylistic reasons, but the budget for the project makes it infeasible for the team to find a suitable horse in a short span of time.

Jaemin wants to postpone the project so he can discuss the details with the screenwriter, and clarify everything to ensure there will be no more hiccups in the production. The rest of the team will either fly back to Korea, or stay in London, whichever is more convenient for them. Since editing can be done remotely, there is little incentive for them to all have to renew their visas.

However, Jaemin has asked Jeno to stay in London so all of the important members of the team can be physically present, to ensure everybody is on the same page.

When you ask Jeno when he will return, he shrugs and says, "In two months, or half a year—I have no clue."

Although you’re upset and annoyed with his lack of a reaction, you understand that Jeno is upset too. He's suppressing his emotions, which is a bad habit of his. But you aren’t going to lash out and make him feel more demoralised, so you just mutter a quick "love you" and hang up.

After hanging up, you belatedly realise you haven’t told him about the wedding invitation yet. Still reeling from his indifferent attitude, you decide to tell him after both of you have cooled down.

—

Days turn into weeks, that turn into months, and somehow you haven’t been able to address the issue of Donghyuck's wedding. You have been through your closet countless times, and after rummaging and filtering through both of your clothes, you’ve prepared a suitable ensemble for both of them.

You’ve sent an RSVP to Donghyuck to let him know that you and Jeno would be attending, and an excited Donghyuck had sent you a video of Yeon-seok and himself clapping happily.

You have also booked a flight for a week before the date of the wedding, to give yourself time to adjust to the time difference, and you plan to stay after the wedding to spend time with your and Jeno's friends as well.

Despite having settled almost everything, you’ve left one very important detail out—you haven’t discussed it with Jeno yet.

Jeno knows that there's a wedding, of course. Donghyuck had announced it in the group chat when he and Yeon-seok first got engaged, and Yeon-seok had sent an update once the details of the wedding were confirmed.

When Jeno told you about the wedding, you told him about the invitation, and you both laughed over how excessive it was.

But if you said any more about the wedding, you’d have to bring up the elephant in the room and ask if Jeno would still be working on "Chamomile Tea" during the time period, if he'd be busy, or if he'd return to Korea before that. And that, even after all the time that had passed, remained a sore spot for both of you.

So even as the date loomed closer, your conversations with Jeno never went too far in the direction of the wedding. Instead, you tiptoed around the upcoming event like shattered glass was sprinkled over it, and you didn't know what the consequences of stepping on it would be.

Arriving in London is a dream. It always has been, since you learnt that their universities look like castles and their winter consists of dreary, rainy mornings that are perfect for staying in and cuddling while cheesy rom-coms play on the TV. But it's never been your dream to land in London alone, with no one to pick you up from the airport, standing starstruck in the middle of the polished floors while people hurry by.

Some lady you don't recognise waves at you. When you frown, squinting to see if it's a familiar face, the lady walks up to you and grins, "Hi! I'm Soyeon."

You cock your head in contusion.

"I'm the screenwriter for 'Chamomile Tea', the short film Jaemin's overseeing. He wasn't able to come because he's busy trying to keep Jeno out of trouble, he said."

You let out a short laugh. That does, in fact, sound like Jaemin's job most of the time. Soyeon hands you a ticket, folding your fingers around it before you can protest.

"Jeno wanted all three of us to go to an art museum to get inspiration, but I've already finished my part for this project. All that's left for me is to give input, not come up with more ideas. Jaemin suggested that I give my ticket to you, so here it is." Taking a closer look at the ticket, you realise that it's an exhibition meant to celebrate the changing of season from summer to autumn.

"Leaves turning brown," you read aloud. "Petals fall and colours fade, yet many are enraptured by the cooling season that is autumn. Artist Hwang Yeji explores textures, colours and more in this vibrant display."

Soyeon smiles encouragingly at you. "I've known Jeno only for a few months, and he's always been extremely cold towards everyone, but his face lights up whenever he receives a text from you. And when you order takeout for him? That's the only time I see him enjoy his meals."

Your lips tremble as Soyeon continues, "Jeno's mind is a complex place. I'd hate for all that creative potential to be wasted just because he's busy moping. That's why I offered to pick you up instead of Jaemin—I was interested to know who could be the only one to make Jeno truly smile."

You close the distance between yourself and Soyeon, wrapping your arms around the latter. Even if you have only just met her, Soyeon seems so sweet and genuine. Her honest words caught you off guard, but you are touched that she dared to say them.

Soyeon pats your hair comfortingly. "Let me know if you need any more help."

You discreetly blink back tears, ignoring the stinging sensation in your nose, and force a smile. "Thanks, Soyeon."

"You're very welcome."

—

You climb out of the taxi with a sunflower in hand and your suitcase in the other. The exhibition is held in a building with windows as wide as you are tall, the stained glass illuminated by the sunlight.

The lady at the entrance scans your ticket and waves you through with a smile, and you return it before heading on inside.

Panels upon panels of stained glass line the corridors, angled in a way that pictures of light are projected on the ground, weaving between the paintings, casting an angelic glow on each artwork.

Jaemin catches your eye before you can get stuck at any of the paintings, and shushes you with a finger on his lips as you speed up.

"Hi, jagiya," he says lowly, wrapping you in a quick hug. "Jeno's busy and I didn't tell him you were coming, so the rest is up to you. I'll leave the two of you alone, okay? Call me if you need me."

You nod, squeezing his shoulder gratefully.

—

You tuck your sunflower behind your back and wheel your suitcase to the side, silently approaching Jeno. He's completely absorbed in studying the details of the painting, so you gently rest your chin on his shoulder.

"Hey, baby." Jeno turns, coming face-to-face with you. Your noses touch, and from the corners of your eyes, you see Jeno's cheeks flush red-hot. You raise your hand to cool his cheek, but he grabs your wrist first, eyes locked on your face. His pupils dart from side to side, scouring your face as if he's afraid you’re just a figment of his imagination.

You stay in that position, Jeno’s fingers curled around your wrist, until he's convinced that you’re real, at which point his face floods with exhaustion and relief.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into the space between your chin and collarbone. His hands come to rest naturally around your waist, and his hand brushes against the sunflower.

He moves back suddenly, surprised, and you awkwardly manoeuvre your arms around him. This allows you to present the sunflower you bought at a nearby florist to your boyfriend, and you’re delighted by the grin spreading across his lips.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" He asks.

"No, but you've given me red camellias, and I think that’s basically the same thìng."

Jeno chuckles. "Basically.”

Jeno reaches for your suitcase, holding tightly onto the sunflower you’ve just given him. He turns to you, raising his eyebrows expectantly. "Well? I'll take you back to her hotel."

You frown, pulling back in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"Aren't you tired?"

You wave his concern off flippantly. "I'll be just fine. I'll crash later, and the jetlag will hit me like a truck, but I've already allocated a week for getting used to it."

Jeno snorts. "As expected."

You wave your ticket. "Hey, Soyeon's already passed up her chance to see this exhibition so I could go, okay? I'm not planning to waste it."

Jeno nods hastily in an attempt to placate you. "Okay! Let's go then."

He trails behind you obediently until you see a piece that catches your fancy, stopping to take a look. The painting depicts several lilies of the valley in a vase. Behind the vase, there are two mountains painted in grey, but the small patch of grass that the lilies sit on is several vibrant shades of green.

You stay in front of that painting for a while, impressed by the details and texture on the canvas. A shutter sound catches your attention, and you blink a few times before turning to see Jeno holding up his camera and smiling sheepishly.

He rubs the back of his neck and says, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. You looked too good standing there, I just had to get a shot of you."

"It's okay." You look back at the canvas, eyebrows knitting together.

"Don't you think the art style looks familiar?"

"I don't know much about paintings, so I can't say... " Jeno's reply dies on his lips, and he, too, stares at the painting with interest. "You're right, it does look familiar."

The two of you hum in concentration, Jeno resting his chin on top of your head while you wrack your brain for an answer. You tilt your head this way and that, and then it hits you.

"Park Jisung," you say at the same time Jeno does. "How did you��"

Jeno points at a small square of text. "It says right here. Park Jisung, 24, oil on canvas." You mentally slap your forehead. How could you forget that museums put up a description of each artwork and its artist? You must be too tired from the flight.

"That's right, " you say. "That's why it looks so familiar. Contrasting colours was one of the most defining aspects of his style."

You met Jisung at a kids' art camp when you were in university, and the two of you had learnt a lot from each other while teaching the kids. You were surprised to find out that he was two years your senior in a different university, despite being the same age as you.

You lost contact with him after that, and were very, very shocked to see him at Jeno's college reunion. Although you don't speak much to Jisung now, the things you learnt from him at that one camp will stick with you forever.

"That kid's insane," Jeno muses. "He skipped a year in elementary, lived with hyungs he barely knew in university, and did side jobs because he hadn't gotten a scholarship to pay for his tuition fees, unlike Yeon-seok."

You shrug. "Maybe not 'insane'. Just determined."

Jeno nods. "And he's not much of a kid anymore, is he?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Not anymore."

—

As you wander around with Jeno, stopping at paintings to admire them, a sense of melancholy threatens to overwhelm you, slipping between your eyelids like a mass of black water, a receding wave preparing to crash upon the shore of your eyelashes.

You blink back thoughts of insecurity, trying to focus on the artworks and not your feelings, but it’s no use. You can’t escape from the thoughts running wild in your head, and it gets the better of you, a lone tear managing to get past your barriers, trailing slowly down your cheek.

You subtly wipe it away, but Jeno notices immediately, and he stops short.

He turns towards you, concern emanating off his being, and it offers you some comfort. He holds you carefully, like he’s not sure if you’ll break apart in his hands. His body shields you from anything else in the museum, encasing you in a bubble of protection and silence.

You breathe in deeply; once, then twice. You feel the heat behind your eyes slowly fading to a simple stinging sensation, one that doesn’t make you feel completely helpless.

Jeno’s hands tighten around you, and you instinctively lean in towards him. He doesn’t speak, allowing you to unravel the spool of thread wrapped around your lungs, prying apart the anxiety that prevents you from breathing.

When you can think straight again, you look at Jeno, and he knows.

Without words, understanding passes between you, and Jeno knows everything that’s running through your mind.

He nudges you, gently. Are you okay? his eyebrows ask, raising so high they almost disappear into his fringe.

You can lie about a lot of things, like why you came to the museum in the first place or how you feel staring at the art on the walls or whether you’re okay right now, but you don’t. Because you know that regardless of what you say, Jeno will see right through you like you’re a ghost. You’ll never understand if it’s because it’s you, or if everyone’s feelings are transparent to him. You don’t think you care.

It’s enough to just stand there, weightless. You’re completely supported by Jeno, whose embrace is so tight it’s practically lifting you off the ground, and you;re not complaining.

If he could lift your burdens off your mind the same way he’s lifting your feet from the ground right now, he would. And you would want him to.

“I feel like my art’s worth nothing if it can’t be shown to the world.” You speak slowly, uncertainly, knowing you might cry if you let everything out too quickly. Jeno wants to stop you before you get caught up in the flow of you words, but he knows it’s better if you let it all out.

Opening a bottle of carbonated soda that’s just been shaken is dangerous, but if he leaves it alone, the bottle might just explode.

“I know I don’t make art to be seen. I make it for myself. But at the same time, can any artist say that their craft is not made for the eyes of man? We all long for approval and praise, and that is partly what we make art for.”

Your lips tremble, and Jeno finds himself forced to stare at your quivering eyelashes and the sheen of tears you’re barely holding back. Still, you steel yourself, digging your heels into the ground to steady yourself.

“I wonder, sometimes. If my art isn’t seen, is it even art anymore?”

That’s the minefield, the question Jeno can’t answer without speaking baseless comfort. He has no answer to it, only empty words that he knows will fail to put you at ease.

You, however, don’t expect an answer. You look curiously at Jeno, waiting for a response, but the response doesn’t have to be a satisfactory answer.

Jeno leans in, tucking your head between his chin and his collarbone, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

He holds you there until you’ve stopped trembling. Then, one hand still firmly in yours, he takes you back to the hotel, sitting on the edge of your single bed while you sit and stare into nothingness.

When you make no move to get changed, he stands, and brings you to the bathroom. He peels the clothes from your body, helping to scrub your skin until it’s a rosy shade of pink, then wraps you in a towel and moves your arms to dry your body.

After he’s showered, the two of you sit on the bed, Jeno on top of the covers, while you’re tucked underneath them. Jeno has no change of clothes, no money, only his phone and both of your tickets to the museum.

In his street clothes, he refuses to get under the blanket and dirty the bed, but you are content with his presence.

You lie on the bed with your arms wrapped around Jeno’s waist, and when the shock has faded, you cry yourself to sleep.

Jeno is there throughout it, a beaming light in the whirlwind of emotions you’re experiencing, a constant presence that grounds you. He allows you to breathe between sobs, until they slowly fade away and your eyes close, motionless.

The next day, you find a wreath of galaxes on your bedside table, along with a glass of water, and it feels like a great weight has finally been removed from your shoulders.

The day of Donghyuck’s wedding comes earlier than you were expecting. Between taking you out to dinner and going on bike rides around the city, Jeno has kept you busy. Busy enough to forget your troubles, or at least for you to be able to cope with them in a relatively healthy manner.

You hear three knocks on the door, and as you go to open it, you see Jeno standing there, in the emerald green tuxedo you picked for him and the matching tie. His shirt is a pale green, so pale it can be mistaken for white, and gel gives his hair a wet gleam.

He smiles innocently, and it outshines all the charm his outfit has.

You fell in love with all of Jeno, after all, not just his appearance.

Your sage green dress flows past your ankles, and it would drag on the floor if you weren't wearing heels. They’re tall, but even with them on, you are still only the same height as Jeno. He grins at you, and carries you, bridal-style, into the lift lobby.

“Leave some room for the grooms later, stop trying to one-up them,” you joke, but Jeno only hoists you up into a more comfortable position.

“No can do,” Jeno says cheekily.

You don't pursue it.

—

A surprise awaits you in the car. As you open the door to the passenger side, you find that it’s filled—and so is the driver’s seat. Your heart skips a beat, thinking you must’ve gone to the wrong car, but the sight of the driver’s face makes you do a double take.

“Jisung?”

Jisung offers you a shy grin. “Yep, it’s me.”

“Is it really you? I thought… I never thought I’d see you again! How–” your words come out from your mouth before you can think them through, your rapid-fire Korean faltering in your confusion.

“Donghyuck and I are friends, remember?” You don't really, but if Jeno and Jisung are friends from college, it makes sense that Donghyuck would know them both too.

You clap a hand over your mouth, mind reeling. “So… you were invited to the wedding too?”

Jisung nods. Then, he gestures towards the lady in the driver’s seat. “I also have to introduce her to you. Y/n, meet Yeji. Yeji, Y/n.”

Yeji offers her hand for you to shake, and you take it, wondering where you’ve heard the name before. Yeji, Yeji, Yeji… Ah. You’ve got it. “Hwang Yeji?”

She’s the artist who organised the exhibition Soyeon had given you tickets to view. It was there, at the museum, that you saw Jisung’s art. If she really is Hwang Yeji, then everything will make sense.

Yeji nods. “Pleasure to meet you.”

She picks up a small bouquet of pink peonies, orange tulips and heather, presenting it to you. “Jisung showed me a few of your pieces, mostly older ones,” she says by way of explanation. “They had the potential to become something more. I heard from Jeno that you’d seen my exhibition, so I know you probably like flowers, and you know that I like them too. So this bouquet is an invitation for you to work with me some time, for us to perhaps collaborate on another exhibition in future.”

You are taken aback by the sudden offer, but you’re not an idiot. You remember the way you had collapsed into Jeno the week before, scared that you would never be able to get your art out there. Now, your chance is right in front of you.

You take it.

Gratefully receiving the bouquet, you don’t miss the symbolism of the flowers, the goodwill the arrangement holds. You know it is intentional.

“Thank you for your offer. I look forward to working with you.”

Yeji shakes your hand heartily, and you and Jeno get into the backseat.

After settling in, you rest the bouquet on your lap, and you turn to see Jeno holding a white rose. You frown, wondering where he could’ve conjured it from, and lock eyes with Jisung in the driver’s mirror. You raise your eyebrows in question, and he shrugs innocently.

You roll your eyes at the conspirators, but turn your attention back to Jeno. Jeno carefully slips the white rose into the side of the bouquet, managing to prevent it from looking uneven. You play with the petals of the rose, its symbolism clear in your head.

Used to congratulate people on career successes, your mind supplies helpfully. The only career success you can think of right now is also the most recent one, Yeji’s offer to you. But there’s no way Jeno could have known that Yeji would put that offer out. Unless…

“Did you know?” You ask, tone accusing. You doesn’t have to finish the question; Jeno understands what you’re talking about.

“No, I didn’t know if Yeji would offer to work with you for an exhibition. Jisung only told me that he had shown Yeji your art, and I had faith in your abilities. I knew that after witnessing the extent of your talents, Yeji would have something good to offer you, career-wise.”

You can’t argue with that. The logic is sound, and the flowers are cohesively pretty. You continue to play with the petals, a small smile dancing on your lips.

The smile doesn’t escape Jeno’s attention, and he smiles too.

—

It starts to drizzle as soon as you reach the wedding place. Jeno is quick to procure a clear umbrella, holding it for both of you. He knows you wouldn’t want to get your clothes wet.

Jaemin is there too, one hand tucked into the pocket of his trousers, standing by the side. Donghyuck’s wedding is a loud, chaotic one, with many guests you don't recognise all talking with each other. Jaemin hovers at the vague edge of the crowd, as much of an introvert as Jeno, and you tug Jeno over.

“Hi, jagiya.” Jaemin envelopes you in a warm hug, and he smells like home.

Jeno opens his hands for a hug too, but Jaemin only laughs and swats his hand away. Jeno slings one hand over Jaemin’s shoulder, and you snatch his umbrella away, going off to find Donghyuck.

The two men stand side by side, Jaemin still holding the umbrella, watching you disappear into the hordes of people.

—

The rain gets heavier, and you try to occupy as little space as possible, not letting a single part of your body protrude from under the umbrella. Droplets of rain splash onto your shoes and your face, and you wipes them from your face with the back of your hand.

Jisung stands beside Donghyuck and Yeon-seok, with Chenle, Jaemin’s old roommate, and a couple of other men you can’t remember the names of. Donghyuck and Yeon-seok’s roommates from university, you think, because you remember seeing them at the reunion.

You congratulate the grooms, and move to stand next to Yeji and Jisung. The small circle are the only people that have gotten a chance to speak with Donghyuck and Yeon-seok, and by the looks of it, their conversation isn’t going to end anytime soon.

Yeji makes small talk with you, and you laugh about a few shared experiences, before you notice the crowd starting to disperse, and the officiator announces that the wedding is beginning.

You move back to where Jeno is, and he leaves Jaemin with his umbrella, ducking under your umbrella to join you.

The wedding is simple and sweet, and there are tears all around as the two bridegrooms say their vows.

“...to love and to cherish, until death does us part.” Jeno’s fingers suddenly falter, and the golden locket he’s been fidgeting with throughout the wedding slips through his fingers. He lunges to catch it, and you finally notice what he’s been doing with his hands.

Resting one hand on his left knee to calm him down, you nuzzle into his neck, and nudge his hand open with your index finger.

“What’re you holding?” you ask under your breath.

“Nothing.” You briefly register the officiator allowing Yeon-seok and Donghyuck to kiss, and you look up at them just in time.

“Open your hand,” you command.

Obediently, Jeno uncurls his fingers, and you take the locket from him. You fumble with the clasp, but it springs open, and there’s a picture inside. Squinting, you realise that it’s a picture of you and Jeno, taken when you weren’t paying attention. Your hand is shielding your eyes from the sun, and Jeno’s firm hand is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close.

Your grip on Jeno’s knee tightens.

“How long have you been carrying this around for?” You ask, voice slightly hoarse.

Jeno looks away. “Since we took the picture. It’s been, what, two years?”

You feel your throat seizing up, and you force yourself to take a few deep breaths. Jeno has been carrying the locket around for two years. Almost the same length of time that you’ve been dating for. He’s loved you enough for the whole span of that time to carry a picture of you around wherever he goes.

You can’t breathe. “You’ve been carrying this around for two years?”

Jeno shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, like a soldier going off to war,” he quips. Somehow, you’ve switched to Korean, but you don't quite register it. It just feels right, better, to speak in your native language.

It fits, the same way your body fits into the cracks of Jeno’s body, the way his arms wrap around you and fit into every nook and cranny of yours. Your scars line up against each other’s, and Jeno is the puzzle piece that makes you whole.

“So you love me.” It might seem strange, after all they’ve been through, to doubt it. But it hasn’t been long, and you hate to give yourself away, to love somebody else. Every day, you wonder if you’ve crossed the line from like to love, or if you’ve fallen out of like with each other.

“Yes.” You never knew one word could turn your world upside down. The rain has eased, but it feels like there’s water rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

Then, “Are you okay?”

You hear it from your other side, your left side, and you see Yeji there, concern in her eyes. You turn your attention back to the proceedings, and see Donghyuck taking the wedding bouquet from Yeon-seok, preparing to toss it in the air.

“Yes,” you say, determinedly. Jeno guides your hand to tilt the umbrella backwards, giving both of you a better view of the grooms, and the water continues to flow off the umbrella.

Neither of them makes a move to take it, leaving the more eager guests to rush towards Donghyuck, surrounding him. He turns his back towards them, Yeon-seok moderating the crowd, and tosses the bouquet into the air.

It arcs towards the middle of the crowd, and a lone carnation falls out. Jeno reflexively reaches out for it before it can fall on the soaked grass, and he tucks the yellow carnation behind your ear.

His face is right next to yours, his breathing fast and rapid, and you hear the pulsing of his heart when you place a hand on his chest.

Jeno leans his forehead on yours, the umbrella creating a bubble of silence and tranquility amidst the loud cheers and celebration outside of it. A tear rolls down his cheek, and he smiles, the tear caught on the upside of his upper lip.

You watch as he licks it away, and brush the pad of your thumb against the trail of the tear.

“Are you crying?” you ask softly.

“No,” Jeno says, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “It’s just the rain.”

You wrap your arm around his neck, nose bridge aligned with his, waiting quietly.

“I know you don’t want to get married now,” Jeno says. “But please, take this carnation as a promise that I will never let you have your heart broken.”

You have heard false promises fall from Jeno’s lips before. You’ve faced his broken promises, seen through his lies, accepted his empty praise. This time, however, it’s different. You know it in your heart, can hear the dogged beating of his heart, refusing to hurt you again.

You smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll take that promise.”

—

floriography

violet: a declaration to always be true

blue salvia / azure blue sage: harbours sentiments of missing and thinking of someone.

peppermint: warmth of feeling

lavender: purity, devotion, serenity, grace and calmness.

sunflower: adoration and loyalty, long life and lasting happiness.

chrysanthemum: longevity, fidelity, joy and optimism.

red camellia: you’re a flame in my heart.

galaxes: encouragement.

pink peonies: good luck, prosperity and success

orange tulips: joy, enthusiasm and excitement

heather: admiration and support

white roses: symbolises innocence and purity. used to congratulate people on career successes.

carnations: symbolise pride and love for someone in a supportive way. used to tailor bouquets to one’s favourite colour due to their ease of dyeing.

#nct #nct dream #k-labels #🪁 — my works #💐 — the language of flowers #jeno #nct fic #nct dream fic #jeno x reader #jeno x y/n #nct dream x reader

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skyeet-the-writer · 7 months

Text

The One With the Girl from Canada

while im cleaning out my drafts, here's something from a few months ago. i really like this and i've written and are currently writing some more little chapters, so be on the lookout for them!! this is also posted on my ao3 if you want to go read it there too :) chandler bing x female!reader summary: new york city is a big place for a girl who lived in canada her entire life, but you manage. one afternoon, while getting some work done in a cozy coffee shop, a very handsome brunette asks to sit beside you. who are you to tell him no? word count: ~2.3k warnings: none i don't think lmao that never happens next>

Central Perk is a special spot for Chandler Bing. That's where he talks with his friends, it's where they all relax, it's where he met Rachel just a couple of months ago, coming in wearing a wedding dress and looking highly frazzled. It's got a nice, calming atmosphere, pretty good coffee, and the absolute best spot in all of Manhattan.

The area with the couch is where he and his friends always sit. Sometimes he feels bad for taking it, but nobody seems to mind, ever. And so he always sits there, usually on the couch when it is available.

When he walked into Central Perk one afternoon after work, he just wanted to grab a coffee and wait for the rest of his friends to show up eventually. He didn't expect there to be anyone there, no one ever was at this time on a Thursday.

But then he saw someone sitting in his spot.

Normally, he would have been upset, probably ask them to leave, nicely, of course, and pray to God that they left because he hates confrontation.

However, the person sitting in his spot was probably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She looked like she had been there for a few hours, at least, because there was an empty plate with crumbs on it and a large mug drained, both sitting on the coffee table her feet were propped up on.

For a moment, Chandler stood at the counter and stared at her like some kind of creep. He had never seen her around and he knew he'd remember if he did. She wore gray jeans rolled up at the ankles to show off her colorful socks underneath a pair of black and white Converses. As his eyes traveled up her frame, he saw her wearing some kind of band tee and a tiny, silver necklace around her neck. She seemed to be writing something and, from what Chandler could tell, she seemed to be deep into thought. Her pencil scratched across the notebook and every so often, she would pause and read over it before promptly erasing something and writing once more.

He heard his name being said and turned around to see Guther holding out a coffee cup to him.

"Oh, thanks, Gunther," he told the worker, taking the coffee from him.

Chandler had never been good at talking to girls and more often than not chickened out on the opportunity to do so. But he didn't want to chicken out on talking to you.

And so, with confidence, he walked over to the area he always sat at and stood just beside the couch, next to your arm that was leaning on the armrest.

Before now, he didn't notice the headphones around your ears and the Walkman that sat beside you, but when he clears his throat and you don't react, he understands why. And so, again and a little bit louder, he clears his throat, gently tapping on your shoulder.

Your eyes tear away from the page in your lap at the touch of another person and you whip your head up to see a man standing beside you, looking at you with a smile. Perhaps too loudly, you exclaim, "Oh, shit, sorry!" and hastily pause your music and let the headphones rest around your neck. You blink up at the man and ask, "Yes?"

"I, uh." Chandler swallows thickly because even your voice is one from a dream. "You're, uh, kind of in my spot."

With a mischievous smile, you turn around in your seat like you're looking for something. "Oh, word? I don't see your name on it."

And then you smile at him snarkily and Chandler forgets how to breathe. But then he laughs, a bit awkwardly. Your sarcastic grin fades into a true one and you add, "Don't worry, I'll move."

When you start to gather your things, Chandler is quick to put a stop to it. He doesn't want you to move, not now, not ever. Not when he's just started to talk to you. "No, no, you're fine, I'm just kidding."

You stop your movements and look up at him. "Oh, alright. You can sit next to me, though."

Chandler doesn't have to be told twice. He sits beside you on the opposite side of the couch and takes a drink of his coffee like that will do anything to cure his jitters.

"What's your name?" you ask him, setting your notebook in your lap for just a moment. You wonder if he wants to have a conversation, but not many people in New York do.

He answers, "Chandler."

"Nice to meet you, Chandler. I'm y/n."

God, even your name sounds like something from a song.

"It's nice to meet you, too, y/n." He takes notice of the notebook in your lap and feels the urge to ask, "Mind if I ask what you're writing?"

With another grin, you say, "What if I did?"

Chandler can only wonder if your smile is contagious because he feels his lips curl upwards. "I mean, I'd still ask. I'm nosey."

You laugh and tilt your notebook for him to read. "It's a screenplay I'm writing."

Chandler's eyes widen. "You're a screenwriter? What, you make movies and stuff?"

"I wish." You scoff and feel a slight heat rise to your cheeks. "No, I write stories for movies and stuff. At least, I try."

"Is it not going so well?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Some studio called me up a few months ago, said they liked the idea I submitted and gave me a few months to come up with a first draft. And I've got two more weeks to finish it, so we'll see."

"I'm sure it's great," Chandler says and he means it. He can't write for shit, but something about you seems so...creative and special. "Even if I just met you."

You laugh again and close the notebook, stashing it away in the tote bag that rests on the floor. "Thanks, really."

"Of course." When you turn your body to face him, he sees what band is on your shirt and, even though he knows who it is, he asks, "What band is that?"

When he points to your chest, you look down and answer, "Oh, Nirvana."

"Oh, my God, I love them!"

"Really?" Your face breaks into a grin and you lean forwards a little. "What's your favorite song."

"'Heart-Shaped Box'," he says.

"Oh, that's good. I like 'Come As You Are'."

Soon, the conversation seems to flow quite naturally between the pair of you. He tells you about his boring job, something with a bunch of numbers and nothing exciting. You both compare bands and he realizes you're much more into rock and alternative works, but he guessed that the second he saw the leather jacket that rests beside you.

Joey is the first to arrive. Chandler glances up at the door when he hears the bell above it jingle and sees his roommate falter at the sight of you. You're not looking, rummaging through your tote bag for something and Chandler's eyes widen at the sight of the other person. If Joey flirts with you, Chandler will kill him.

Joey, clearly not catching on to Chandler's look from across the cafe, sees you and smirks, walking over.

"Hey, Chandler," he greets but doesn't look at his friend, eyes settling on you. "Who's, uh, your friend?"

You turn up at the sound of another person and spot the Italian-American smiling at you. You smile back and say, "I'm y/n."

"How you doin'?" Joey smirks and sits himself down on the high stool beside you. "I'm Joey."

"Hi, Joey," you reply, glancing at Chandler who quickly wipes the glare from his face and smiles at you. "You guys know each other?"

"We're roommates," he answers, motioning at his friend who is still staring at you.

You blink and shift in your seat. "Oh."

"I like your shirt," Joey says.

"You like Nirvana, too?" Your face brightens and Chandler almost melts.

But then his roommate says, "Who?"

And that look on your face is gone. Your smile falls and you look away back into your tote, mumbling, "Never mind."

Chandler meets his friend's eyes and shakes his head twice, brows furrowed. Joey always gets the girl. Chandler deserves to hope, at least.

You pull out a packet of gum and open it. You take a piece out and unwrap it before offering one to Chandler. He smiles and takes it, popping it in his mouth and shoving the wrapper in his pocket.

"Want some gum?" you ask the other man with darker and messier hair.

He takes one and thanks you. You return it with a grin and put the gum back in your tote, on top of your notebook.

Joey says your name and you look at him. "So, you live around here?"

You nod. "Yeah, I live in Hell's Kitchen."

"Oh, cool, cool. How long have you lived here? You grew up in New York?"

Immediately, you shake your head. "Oh, no, no, I didn't grow up here."

"Where'd you grow up?" Chandler asks, tilting his head

"Winnipeg," you answer, biting back a smile.

Chandler's brows furrow and Joey asks, "Where's that?"

"Manitoba." Your straight cracks a bit and you try to fight the smile that wants to paint itself across your lips.

Joey looks lost and asks again, "...Where's that?"

"Canada," you tell him, fully grinning now.

Joey gasps and Chandler tries not to roll his eyes. He figured it out when you said Manitoba. He says, "You're from Canada?"

You nod, turning your head to look at him. "Yep."

"Do you speak French?" Joey asks, touching your arm, clearly already friendly with you.

Turning to him, you answer, "Non."

Chandler laughs and you giggle, crossing one leg over the other.

"I speak Italian," Joey says.

You raise a brow. "Yeah?"

He nods and leans forward in his chair, smirking. "Sei bellissima."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're beautiful," he answers, voice a little lower than it was before.

Some heat rushes up your neck and you look away at your lap. "Oh."

Chandler glares at his friend, but Joey doesn't catch it.

Thankfully, before Chandler reaches over you to choke Joey, the bell dings and he glances at the door. Monica, Ross, Phoebe, and Rachel are walking in and while the rest of his friends make their way over, Rachel immediately goes to clock in for her shift.

They walk over and greet the other two and Phoebe is the first to address you. "Oh, wow, you're pretty."

You laugh out loud, blushing even harder at the compliment from a woman, touching your necklace. "Thank you. I like your skirt."

Phoebe giggles and swishes her skirt. "Thanks."

"This is y/n," Chandler introduces you to his friends.

"Hey." You lift your hand in a wave of sorts, feeling like you're butting in on their group. You should leave, but in a minute. You don't want to be rude.

Chandler's friends introduce themselves--Ross, Monica, and Phoebe, you repeat their names in your head to remember better--and then he gestures towards the coffee bar. "And the girl over there is Rachel."

"It's nice to meet you guys," you say politely, squeezing your hands in your lap.

"You too." Monica smiles. "I love your shirt, by the way."

"Thanks." You grin, basking in all the compliments.

Ross looks at Monica and asks, "You listen to Nirvana?"

Monica fixes him with a look. "Yes, because I'm cooler than you."

You chuckle at their interaction when Joey suddenly blurts out, "Ask her where she's from!"

You giggle at the man's antics and look at the others.

Ross smiles and asks, "Alright. Where are you from?"

"Winnipeg," you reply, still smiling. Chandler thinks he's going to swoon.

Monica is the first to figure it out. "You live in Canada?"

You nod. "I mean, I used to. I moved to Hell's Kitchen a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, my god, so you just moved here," Chandler says.

"Why did you move all the way from Canada down to here?" Ross wonders.

"I'm a screenwriter and ended up getting a job down here," you answer. "Besides, Canada is boring, so I was looking for a change of scenery."

"Well, how do you like it here so far?" Phoebe asks.

You shrug. "It's pretty nice. A little colder, somehow, but I like it. There are a lot more people and a lot more things to do and see. I lived in Winnipeg my entire life so I kind of felt like I saw everything."

"I've always wanted to go to Canada," Rachel says, coming to hand out coffee.

You smile. "It's nice. Alberta is really pretty."

Mustering up some courage, Chandler says, "Hey, if you ever need someone to show you around the city, I'll be happy to help you."

And then you look at him and grin, nodding. "That'd be sick."

He feels heat start to creep up his cheeks, and he smiles back. "Awesome."

You look at the time on the clock and say, "I've got to head out, but it was great to meet you guys."

"Yeah, you too!" Monica says.

Taking a Post-it note from your bag, you write down your number and hand it to Chandler. He takes it and tries not to stare at it too hard. "Hope to catch you guys later."

Chandler's friends wave to you and you walk out the door, shrugging your jacket on before walking off. Chandler stares at the window for several seconds after you're gone and only snaps out of it when Monica says something.

"Chandler, how the hell did you get her number?"

He shrugs, looks at the bright blue Post-it note, and reads it.

here :) (xxx-xxx-xxxx)

He smiles and puts it in his pocket, trying to ignore the looks his friends are giving him. You're very cool and very pretty and Chandler can't wait to see you again.

#x reader #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #canadian reader #ross geller #rachel green #joey tribbiani #monica geller #phoebe buffay

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