#hope you’re having a fun Saturday I sure am :)
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watch and learn (part two)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use
summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
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You’re at the library the next morning, enjoying how quiet campus is on a Saturday. You’re trying to focus on a discussion board you need to respond in, but your mind is elsewhere.
You can’t believe you agreed to Rafe’s idea. But you don’t regret it. He may be a jerk through and through, but he’s surprisingly a really good listener in bed.
You’re pretty sure he gave you the best orgasm you’ve ever had with someone. While it was an awkward challenge guiding him, you realized how liberating it was getting exactly what you wanted instead of quietly hoping the guy you were with knew what to do.
Your phone buzzes and lights up with a text. It’s 9:44 am and the notification is from Rafe.
Rafe: if you ever want practice sucking dick let me know
You flush and instinctually look around to make sure nobody in the barren library can see your screen. You reply: good morning to you too.
You take a second and send another message. The thought of going down on him rouses you. And, of course, the feedback will be helpful.
You: might take you up on that
Rafe: might?
You: might :)
Rafe is lying in bed, nursing a minor hangover. When he thinks about what happened on the other side of the wall in your room last night, he gets turned on all over again.
Feeling you cum around his fingers was fucking amazing. Knowing he did that to you, made you shake like that, was like an achievement. And he wants to keep doing it.
He texts you: we’re having a party on the beach today. bring friends
Rafe’s brand new to the frat, but he has already learned how important it is to invite as many people as he can to events. And if he’s being honest, he really wants to see you again.
You: only if you dont hit on them. i cant subject them to that
He feels his lips quirk up in a smile. When you don’t have a stick up your ass, you’re actually kind of entertaining.
Rafe: wtf why
You: you’re a fuckboy
Rafe: nahh you said i was amazing
You: i said the sex was amazing. and thats only because i told you what to do
Rafe: you can’t take all the credit
You: watch me
Rafe: you’re annoying
You: YOU’RE annoying
You: send me the address and time for the party
He quickly sends you the details.
This is the best idea he’s ever had. No strings attached sex with a hot girl who has zero interest in a relationship and can be brutally honest with him. He gets to fuck and improve his skills. It’s a dream.
Later that afternoon, Rafe watches the setting sun as he hangs out with a couple of his frat brothers in the sand. The party’s slowly starting to fill up, conversations growing in volume over the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
“We don’t host a lot of parties here,” Blake continues to explain to Rafe.
Blake’s a sophomore legacy and Rafe has slowly realized that he sort of looks up to him. He’s involved in the frat and seems to know everybody.
“It’s ‘cause it’s impossible to get people to pay cover, so we don’t even ask for it,” Blake says.
“No door to do it at,” Sam, another sophomore adds with a laugh. Blake looks back and shakes his head.
“Fun police is here,” he hollers. Rafe turns to see pacing towards the keg next to the same girl he saw you with last night.
His pulse quickens as he takes you in. Your shorts are barely covering anything. Damn.
You glare at Blake as you pick up a red solo cup.
“Kidding,” Blake says. “We were kinda being assholes the other night, weren’t we?”
Your lips twist into a small smile. Rafe isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t like you looking at Blake like that.
He didn’t mention to anyone that you two hooked up last night. No particular reason - it just didn’t come up. But clearly, he’ll have to fill the guys in later. They need to know you’re off limits.
“Thanks for admitting it,” you say, filling up your cup. “Why can’t you be my neighbor?”
You look over at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched. Him and that temper. Admittedly, you’re already kind of sexually frustrated over how good he looks in his tank top, his big biceps exposed.
“Life’s unfair,” Blake replies with a bigger grin. You return it. It makes Rafe’s blood run hot.
“I guess it is,” you say as your friend finishes filling up her cup.
You walk away and Rafe realizes he didn’t exchange a single word with you. The second you’re out of earshot, he leans towards his buddies.
“I’m hooking up with her,” he tells them.
“Your neighbor?” Sam laughs. “Cap. That chick hates you.”
Rafe almost tells him not to call you a chick because of your advice last night. Wow. He really is learning from you.
“Didn’t hate me last night.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“Wait, for real?” Blake asks.
“Yeah.” Rafe loves the confidence high he’s riding right now.
“How was it?” Blake asks.
Rafe decides to lie. Painting it as a boring experience will make his buddies lose any interest they might have in you.
“Fine,” he says casually. Yeah, right. It was incredible.
Rafe watches Blake turn, surely to check you out.
“She’s cute,” Blake mumbles.
“Bro code, man,” Sam says, slapping his friend’s chest. Rafe is kind of relieved he said that.
“Shit, my bad,” Blake says with a chuckle, looking at Rafe. “You like her?”
“Oh - no,” Rafe laughs. “No.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I talked to her, right?” Blake says it as more of a statement than a question.
Rafe realizes he shouldn’t care. This whole arrangement is so both of you can get better at sex with other people. He doesn’t know what got into him thinking you owed him loyalty. His impulse to be possessive serves no purpose here.
“Go for it,” Rafe says.
Dusk falls as you stand in a crowd with Liv, your feet sunken into the sand as you drink and chat.
You told her about your arrangement with Rafe and were surprised to hear how jealous she was, mentioning how rare it is to find a guy who cares about giving his girl an orgasm.
You had to clarify to her it’s because Rafe’s ego needs all the stroking it can get, especially in the bedroom. And that you are not his girl.
You know it’s a crazy situation to be in with someone, but it’s worth it. You’ll learn what you can from him, and he’ll do the same with you, and then you’ll use what you picked up with people you actually like.
As the night goes on, the crowd gets bigger and closer together. It’s dark at this point, the moon covered with clouds.
Rafe’s been looking at you all night, at your bare legs, thinking about how he had his mouth between them last night.
You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. When you pull it out, you see a text from Rafe: you ever fucked in a car? or are you too scared lol
You look up to meet his gaze from eight feet away at most, shaking your head in incredulity as he smirks at you.
The abruptness of his message, the promise of doing something so outside your comfort zone, is thrilling. But still, you just have to mess with him.
You reply: too scared :( no thanks
You laugh at the way Rafe’s face contorts at his phone. He looks up at you.
You text again: jk let’s go
He flashes his middle finger to you and you return the gesture. He then cocks his head behind him to signal you to follow.
“Tip for you,” you say when you approach him, walking away from the crowd together. “Don’t flip off a girl you’re trying to fuck.”
“Is that not good foreplay?” Rafe asks with a smirk.
“Aw, did I teach you that word?” you say.
“I knew it before.”
“Sure,” you say. “Just like you knew that girls fake it.”
“You’re annoying,” he groans, amusement in his tone.
“You’re annoying” you say, echoing your text conversation from earlier. You playfully shove his shoulder. He hardly budges.
You approach the parking lot and Rafe pulls out keys to remotely unlock his car.
“Get in,” he says, stopping in front of a large black SUV and opening the right backseat door. You notice the luxury brand immediately.
“This is your car?”
“Got a motorcycle, too,” he replies smugly.
“It makes so much sense now.”
“What?”
“You’re rich,” you realize. Rafe shrugs in such a pompous way.
“And?”
“That’s why you’re so…” you begin. What’s the right word? Entitled? Arrogant? Shameless? “You.”
Rafe scoffs at you, unsure of how to take the comment and unsure if he should even care as you settle in his car. He ambles in behind you, settling on the leather seat and shutting the door.
You don’t feel shy to initiate like you did last night. You straddle him, immediately locking lips, feeling him freeze in what you think is surprise before his hands drag over your hips.
Rafe really wants to grab your ass but he remembers you telling him he shouldn’t jump right to groping.
He tastes like beer and he smells like cologne as you deepen the kiss, weaving your lips together. He dips his tongue into your mouth and your noses nudge together, wet lips smacking in his dark, quiet car.
He shuffles under you, the leather squeaking, allowing you to feel his hard-on between your legs, his hands finally wandering over your ass and gripping hard. Lust burns in your stomach.
Your mind drifts back to what he texted you this morning. You’ve been thinking about it all day. You sit back, unable to see much of Rafe in the darkness, but enough to see that his eyes are half-closed, drunk off the feeling.
“I wanna practice…” you say, stroking him over his shorts. “You know.”
“Say it,” Rafe coaches, his dimples caving into his cheeks. You roll your eyes. Right. This is why you’re doing this. To stop being so reserved.
“Sucking dick,” you finally say. Hearing and watching you as your words spill out of your mouth makes his skin prickle with excitement.
“My turn to teach you, huh?” Rafe’s voice is deep and husky, dripping with desire. You nod, your bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as you continue to stroke him.
“Should I keep doing this?” you ask, palming him.
“You got it, baby,” he rasps lazily. “Touch it before you put it in your mouth.”
“Fuck,” you half-chuckle. Rafe smirks. He knows you love his dirty talk.
“You can talk, too,” he encourages. “Try it.”
You twist your lips in apprehension, but push yourself past your comfort zone.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” you admit, goosebumps blooming across your skin. “About how your cock is gonna feel down my throat.”
“Goddamn,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass tighter. How’d he get so lucky to be here right now? “That’s good.”
“Yeah?” you whisper, gratified. You unbutton his shorts and pull down his zipper.
“You liked the way it felt inside you last night, didn’t you?” he asks. He shifts to give you the space to pull down his shorts and boxers.
You watch him shut his eyes in pleasure as you wrap your bare hand around him, no fabric in the way anymore.
“I loved it,” you whisper, giving into the impulse to kiss him again. When your thumb rubs over the bead of warm precum on the head of his cock, he bites your bottom lip.
You move to position your head at his groin, your knees on the carpeted floor of his car. You lean forward, slowly putting your lips around the tip, feeling just how wet your panties are when you taste him.
“Shit,” he shudders. You slightly raise your head to dribble spit onto his thick cock, bringing your hand up to rub the moisture over his length.
“Sit up,” Rafe says. “I wanna watch you spit on it again.”
You straighten and the sight of your line of saliva dropping from your mouth to his dick makes Rafe feel like he might go crazy.
His cock is slick now, your hand sliding up and down it easily.
“Should I use both hands?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he huffs. You nod, both your palms rubbing over his girth, cupping and twisting.
He’s about to tell you to start using your mouth, but you drop a hand, leaving the other at his base, and take him in.
Your hot, wet mouth feels unbelievable. You start to suck and slide over him nicely, leaning up and down.
“Squeeze harder,” he instructs, and you nod with his cock still in your mouth, your hold stiffening at his base. You’d assume gripping this tight would hurt, but this is why you’re doing this with him. To learn.
You take a little more of him with every dip of your head, lips locked as spit dribbles down your chin. The sound of your slurping is fucking amazing to him. Your tongue twists and curls as you move.
“Keep using your tongue like that,” Rafe says to you, his words whispered and rushed. “And take as much of my cock as you can. Try to take all of it.”
You nod again, pushing down, gagging but reaching all of him, your nose touching his toned stomach.
“Fuck, yes,” he moans. “Good fucking girl.”
The praise makes you stir with enticement as you pull back, then take all of his length again, flicking your tongue.
“Just like that,” Rafe grunts, his voice hoarse. “Look at me.”
You meet his eyes in the shadowed car, his chest heaving. Rafe might just lose his mind at the way you look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. He reminds himself this is supposed to be instructional.
“Guys love this shit, okay?” he says. “When you look up like that.”
You pull back, making him watch his cock slowly get uncovered as you pop off of him.
“Is it wet enough?” you ask.
“Yeah, baby, you’re doing a good job,” he replies. You nod and sink onto him again, starting to move faster, moving your hand in sync with your mouth.
“Hold my balls,” he tells you. “Not too tight.”
You obey, cupping the soft flesh with one hand while the other remains wrapped around his cock. You squeeze gently, massaging his balls and earning a deep groan from him.
Wow. You really are learning a lot from him.
Rafe feels his stomach tighten. He’s close.
“You gonna swallow?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say, muffled and vibrating over his cock. You never have before, but you really want to impress Rafe and do this right.
He starts to shake, his voice reduced to a whimper. You feel him get even harder, then shudder.
His hot cum hits the back of your throat in one hard splash, trailed by short spurts. He moans his way through his orgasm, his load heavy.
You take it all, making him smile as he looks down at you, panting.
“That was… fuck…” Rafe huffs, titling his head back, his jawline sharp.
It’s pretty gratifying seeing such a big, loud, arrogant man reduced to this tired, heaving mess. He rakes a hand through his hair as you shift to sit next to him.
“A-plus?” you ask. You’re expecting him to tease you but he nods.
“Fuck yeah,” he laughs. “Give me a few minutes. I want you to show me how to make you cum on my dick.”
Nerves suddenly bubble in your stomach. Even after what you just did, the thought of fucking him in here makes you feel on edge.
“Let’s do that another night,” you say, adjusting your top.
“What? Why?” he asks. He looks at you, lips still parted as he breathes heavily.
“We could get caught.”
“The windows are tinted,” Rafe tells you. “Nobody knows we’re even in here.”
You look away, which by now, he has learned means you’re embarrassed.
“Holy shit, why do you get so nervous all of a sudden?” he laughs. “Do you feel bad for liking sex or something?”
You swallow hard. You never thought about it but... maybe he’s right. There always is a little bit of shame attached to every hook-up you have.
He called you out on your lack of confidence last night. Here he is, doing it again.
Rafe doesn’t understand how a girl can be so sure of herself one minute, then ashamed the next.
“Relax,” he says. “Don’t think. Just answer, understand?”
“Okay,” you say.
“Do you want to fuck?”
You nod.
“Say it.”
“Yeah, I do,” you relent.
“Then take your clothes off.”
(part three)
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#the way i listen to a playlist called ‘fratboy anthems’ while i work on this series….#don’t think i’ve ever written this much this fast??? what rafe cameron does to a mf#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#obx smut#rafe cameron fic#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n
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Recording Sessions
Pairing — 3racha and Reader
Wordcount — 3,485 words
Genre — Smut
Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.
Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍
“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”
The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth.
But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.
“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”
“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.
“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.
“Any ideas on how we can improve this?”
“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.
“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.
“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.
There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.
Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway.
“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?”
The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.
“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”.
“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”.
Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished.
“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.
“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”
You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind.
“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.
It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.
“What exactly are you proposing?”
“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”
“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.
“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.
“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.
Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.
“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.
“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”
Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.
“Yeah, okay”.
Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?
He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.
“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”.
“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung.
“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”.
“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.
“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”.
The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to.
“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.
“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder.
“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.
“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.
“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back.
You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards.
You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.
“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees.
Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.
“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.
“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”.
“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.
“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you.
“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”.
“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”
You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.
In the meantime, Chan just watches.
You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.
“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”.
You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.
The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.
“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit.
“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.
It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.
Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.
So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.
“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.
“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.
“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”
“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations.
“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”
You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.
It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.
When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it.
And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.
“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.
He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.
Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.
“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.
“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.
“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it.
“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?”
“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.
“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”.
Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs.
“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”.
You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.
“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.
You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you.
“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”
“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.
“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.
And a well deserved one.
“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.
“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time.
“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up.
It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable.
The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there.
“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”
Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you.
“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?”
You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.
“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast.
“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile.
“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.
You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”.
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Heyy! So I just found your stuff and it’s all super cute I love this kind of thing 😊 feel free to decline but do you think you could do a little fluffy one shot type thing where you’re just gaming with Sebastian and then whoops you both fall in love 😳
best gamer of all time || sebastian x reader oneshot
hanging out with your friends is always fun, but gaming alone with him may be your new favorite thing <3
warnings: fluff fluff fluff fluff oh my god, you may suck at this game but you do NOT suck at winning his heart
requested by: @juleboo , this is such an adorable request! i'm sorry this took like forty billion years, life has decided to kick me off my feet, but im doing a lot better so yippeeeee. i hope you enjoy, hopefully it was worth the long wait 🙏
Hanging out on a Saturday night was a ritual for you, Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam. You all rotate on who's place you hang out at, and tonight was Sebastian's. Abigail was laid out on the couch, Sebastian sitting on his bed, and you and Sam were on the floor. After a very intense game of Jackbox, with a lot of chaotic answers and laughter, it was nearing midnight.
“I cannot believe you put that! That was a direct jab at me and you know it!” Sam said towards Abigail's direction, obviously not actually upset.
“Then clean up the fuckin' pizza boxes in your room! That rat would've become your best friend if your mom didn't find him- wait- what time is it? ... oh shit, my dad is gonna kick my ass!” Abigail said, jumping up at lightning speed and grabbing her bag. “Sorry to kill the party, love you guys, if I get lectured one more time this week I am going to pull out my hair. Bye bye!”
And off she goes, leaving just as chaotic as she came. Sounds about right. The remaining three of you laughed, before Sam stood up and grabbed his things as well. “For some reason Mom wants me to come to church in the morning, she saw some lyrics to one of our songs and she kind of flipped her shit. Soooo, gotta atone for my sins. Have fun you two,” he said, sending a small wink Sebastian's way before making his way up the stairs.
You saw the wink, it definitely caught you off guard. You immediately snapped your head towards Sebastian. “What was that for?” you said with a smirk, which wasn't held for long. It slipped into a smile, moving from the floor to the now empty couch.
Sebastian's expression remained neutral, rolling his eyes. “Sam is always up to something, ignore him. Do you wanna stay and hang for a little while? I don't have anything to do tomorrow,” he said, looking towards the cabinet of games that sat beside his gaming console. He never asked anyone to stay later, especially when it's his night to host. He usually wants everyone out, Sebastian cherishes his alone time.
Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he asked you this, he actually wanted to spend more time with you? You felt so honored and special, of course you were going to stay. “Yeah, what did you wanna do?”
“I bought a game, it's co-op. Wanna try it out? It's a platformer, it seems pretty easy,” he said, walking over to the cabinet and grabbing the case. He made his way back over to you, showing you the back of the case, carefully studying your features. He wanted to make sure you were actually interested, and when your face lit up, he couldn't hold back a smile. It was rare for him, but it was perfect.
“Hell yeah, let's pop this bad boy in!” you said, sitting up excitedly and scooting over so that you two could share the couch. After 'popping that bad boy in', he sat next to you and handed you the controller.
Sebastian put on the tutorial before beginning to show you the controls. He described what to do, but due to your drowsiness from working all day, you just couldn't grasp what the controls were. “Here,” he mumbled, thinking for a moment before carefully putting his hands over yours.
“Alright, shoot with this button, alright?” he said, making sure not to get too close to you. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but these little touches were really nice ... he could get used to this.
“Mhm ...” you hummed, although your brain was short-circuiting. Every single thought in your brain was rendered useless in that moment, every place where you two touched felt like it was on fire. You clumsily tried to recreate his movements, shooting when he asked and jumping when he instructed. You learned the controls, but barely.
“Got it?” he said simply, slowly beginning to let go of you. He didn't really want to, but he didn't want to overstep your boundaries. He really cared about you, he didn't want to jeopardize that.
With a hesitant nod of confirmation, you two began the game. It was a mess, you definitely did not grasp the controls whatsoever. However, he enjoyed seeing what kind of trouble you got yourself into. How could you even get up there?
“Okay- when you jump, press the trigger to latch on to that cliff, and do NOT let go-” he tried to explain as you jumped with all of your might ... just to not even touch the cliff. Your body hit the floor with a splat, and you both sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other. Small snickers turned into full blown laughter, falling down onto the couch as you both held your faces.
“How the hell am I so stupid?? That was so easy! How the hell did I miss that??” you cackled, wiping the tears that began to fall from your eyes.
“I have no idea but it was one of the best things I've ever seen,” Sebastian's laughter began to quiet as he sat up, his gaze making its way down to you. You looked so perfect in the soft light of the television, so happy from the laughter that was encasing the both of you. He could not stop smiling.
“What?” you said softly, a gigantic grin on your face. You couldn't move, you just wanted to stay in this moment forever.
“... nothing. Just ... capturing this moment,” Sebastian said in a gentle tone, taking a deep breath before looking back at the screen. “You're a ghost now, but you can still help me and eventually I can revive you.”
You slowly sat up, but you had an idea. You slid a little closer to him than you were before, your legs touching. “Alright, I'll be the best fuckin' ghost in town,” you laughed, knowing you were bound to fuck it up but you had no care in the world. This was too fun.
He looked over at your legs touching, smiling even wider before continuing the game. He would ask you to do things as a ghost as you did ... with enough trial and error. He did notice that you kept adjusting and scooting closer and closer. He really liked this.
“Do you know how to freeze someone?" he asked, which you shook your head to. “Let me see this-” he mumbled, wrapping his arm around you, definitely just wanting to help you see the controls. You were essentially sitting in his lap at this point, a soft pink blush creeping onto both of your faces.
His face was so close, pressed almost right up against yours ... you wanted to stay here forever, but you didn't want to say anything that would ruin the moment. Nervous silence held you two for a moment, before he did something that both of you wanted more than anything. He carefully kissed your cheek, before going back to the game as if nothing ever happened.
Your brain melted, a feeling of bliss overtaking your body. You've been waiting for that for ages. You slowly leaned back into his chest as he laid down his controller for a moment. He wrapped his arms around your waist for a moment, giving you a careful squeeze. You reached your arms up around his neck, hugging him back. Neither of you cared about the game anymore.
“Stay here tonight. If you want to,” Sebastian muttered softly, holding your body close to his. He didn't dare let go, and neither did you.
You stayed there that night, you stayed wrapped up in his arms until the daylight and you had to work on your farm. But you hoped one day, you could wake up next to him everyday. Maybe someday, but for now, you had many Saturday nights where you stayed over later than everybody else.
#stardew valley#sdv#sdv headcanons#stardew valley headcanons#sdv farmer#stardew valley farmer#sdv sebastian#stardew valley sebastian#sdv sebastian x farmer#stardew valley sebastian x farmer#sdv sebastian x reader#stardew valley sebastian x reader#stardew sebastian#stardew sebastian x reader#stardew sebastian x farmer#sdv oneshots
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someone requested this but i lost it😫😫 the request asked me to write a story about reader being a streamer and jack and her meeting through one of mason’s streams. i hope you like it! 💖
locked up in your arms — jack champion
word count: 1,581
pairing: jack champion x streamer!fem!reader
summary: y/n’s crush gets exposed during her stream with mason, but luckily he feels the same.
Y/N HAD STARTED HER TWITCH CHANNEL PURELY FOR FUN, NEVER EXPECTING SO MUCH PEOPLE TO START FOLLOWING HER. She did pretty much everything—reactions to movies, music, chatting, occasionally gameplays. People were instantly drawn in by her charm, kindness and sense of humor.
And Mason Gooding had been one of them. He absolutely loved her channel, so when he saw Y/N was a huge fan of the Scream movies, he didn’t hesitate to reach out and asked her to do a stream with him. She, of course, said yes. The viewers loved their dynamic, and their shared streams became something they did weekly.
“You have gotten so much better at this game” Mason said as they finished playing Dead By Daylight.
Y/N grimaced “Sure, I still suck. I mean, my gaming experience starts and ends with the Sims”
Mason laughed, and was about to respond when the sound of his phone interrupted him. “Jack Champion just texted”
The girl gulped, hoping that the mic didn’t catch that. To say she had a crush on that actor was an understatement. Her face turned a dark shade of red, and prayed that it wouldn’t be that noticeable through the camera.
“He says, Mason tell the people I say you’re a sussy baka” the streamer read the text, trying not to laugh.
“Did he just say sussy baka?” Y/N pressed her lips together.
“Don’t make fun of my boy!” Mason warned her.
“I’m not! I thought it was ador- hilarious” holy shit she almost said he was adorable.
“And tell Y/N the Sims is a great game, and I bet she builds beautiful houses” Mason continued.
“I do build beautiful houses. Thank you, Jack!” she said, glad the stutter didn’t come into play.
oh god y/n is about to go into cardiac arrest
hey! don’t expose her lmaooo
girl is crushing hard
didn’t we know she had a crush on jack already??? have you seen her scream 6 reaction???
omg yes she totally thirsted over him for two hours straight.
Mason bursted out laughing at the comments. “I need to see your Scream reaction holy shit. Why did no one ever tell me?”
“They’re exaggerating” they weren’t. “And drop it! You’re not seeing the reaction”
“I so am” Mason said. “In fact, why don’t we react to your reaction?”
“Why don’t we end the stream and never talk again?” she frowned, acting annoyed.
“You’re so adorable!” he laughed. Mason actually thought she and Jack would make an excellent couple, and he was so going to make that happen. “Anyways, that was the end of an eventful stream. Now we gotta go, Y/N needs to put ice on her cheeks”
“I hate you” she said as she ended the video call.
Mason texted her a few minutes after the stream ended.
hey ur not mad at me, are u?
no, i’m not. i just am a little bit embarassed
now everyone knows about my crush
did jack say something? pls tell me he was not watching the stream anymore.
i don’t know. he didn’t say anything, so maybe he left before you exposed yourself
very funny
anyways he’s going to find out. people are for sure sending the clips 😫😫
why are you so worried?
it’s not like you’re going to meet him.
no i know
but idk, i don’t want him to think i’m a weirdo
for having a crush??
don’t be silly. he won’t, jack is the sweetest guy on earth.
okay fine
maybe you’re right
i’m overthinking as always :)
MASON ALMOST LET OUT A SCREAM OF EXCITEMENT WHEN THE TEXT ARRIVED. He had been pretty much hopeless about his plan, so he was caught off guard when Jack told him he was going to LA that weekend. Now, there was one last thing to do.
hey y/n/n
hey mason what’s up?
are you free this saturday??
yeah why?
devyn, jasmine and jenna are dying to meet you, so they told me to invite you :)
we’re doing a picnic!!
yess i’d love to!
GREAT I’M SO EXCITED
why?
BECAUSE😬😬
you’re so weird
thank you
see ya on saturday
Mason couldn’t shake the smile off his face as he opened the group chat he had with Jasmine, Jenna and Devyn.
she’s coming!!!
the ship is about to sail!!! 🚢
she’s going to hate me but it’ll be worthy
i still can’t believe how red she turned during the stream. she’s absolutely adorable
okay but can we talk about how smiley jack was when we showed him the clips???? he’s down bad too
that’s why i’m doing it. i wouldn’t if i weren’t sure they are attracted each other.
i can’t wait till saturday😫 they’re going to be so cute!!!!
he’s going to kill her with adorableness with his dad jokes
he already killed her with the sussy baka thing. i can’t believe he said that. he’s lucky he’s pretty
Y/N, AT THE SAME TIME MASON WAS TEXTING ON THE GROUP, OPENED THE MESSAGES APP. She had a huge smile on her face as she texted.
he really thinks he’s being a mastermind 😭😭😭 it’s so funny
i know 😭 i bet he’s planning everything on the gc with the girls. he has no idea. i feel powerful😎
you are so cute 😫 i can’t wait to hug tf out of you
cute? so, in your scream reactions you call me hot and say you’d be lucky to have been one of my victims and irl you call me CUTE? 🙄
you’re not ethan landry, jack
he’s top 1 on my love of my life list
what place am i in?
third
THIRD?? who’s second? 🥺
taylor swift
oh yeah. should’ve figured.
well, to make you feel bad, you’re in my top 1.
i don’t feel bad at all, jack
oh… well okay. i am totally fine being in your top 3, tbh. at least i made it.
NOW i feel bad😫
i really want to hug you, like the thought of it brings me butterflies
just a couple of hours left ❤️❤️
we have two entire days alone before we meet with the group
i can’t wait to see your pretty face in person🥹🥹
ughhhhhh
stop being so sweet when you’re not here😫😫
i’ll see you in exactly 8 hours :)
good night gorgeous 💕
night pretty boy 💖
Y/N STOOD IN FRONT OF THE METAL STAIRCASE, WITH A SIGN THAT SAID LOVE OF MY LIFE #3. She offered Jack to pick him up from the airport, so there she was, waiting anxiously for her boy.
She couldn’t believe it was actually happening. They had been talking for a while now—he sent her a dm only a few days after the stream, and had been talking non-stop ever since. Both of them have been open about their feelings for each other, as they were pretty obvious, and they basically acted like a couple. Even though that had never met in person, until now.
Jack’s heart stopped when he caught sight of the beautiful girl with the sign, which made him laugh a lot. He pushed through the people, muttering quick so sorry’s until he reached her. Y/N was looking up at him attentively, as if trying to take in every detail about him. The sparks in her eyes made his stomach go crazy.
“You’re real” he breathed.
“I mean, there’s this theory that we are actually characters in some big videogam-“
Jack grabbed her by the cheeks to pull her close to him, so their foreheads were touching. His smile could literally light up a whole town “You can tell me all about your interesting theories, which you know I love to hear. But right now I’m deciding if I should kiss you or hug you”
“In that order, please” she said, completely wonderstrucked by his close presence.
And so they kissed. Y/N found out Jack was a slow kisser, which she absolutely enjoyed because she never wanted that magnificent kiss to end. And Jack discovered Y/N was very touchy—her hands wouldn’t stay in just one place, but she explored every inch of visible skin.
“Now I want my hug” she said after a couple of seconds of trying to recover her breath. Jack threw his head back laughing before embracing her in the so awaited hug. “Yup, never leaving these arms” she squished her cheek against his chest.
The grip around her shoulders tightened “Thank god, cause I didn’t know how to tell you that you’re now forever trapped in here”.
“Um, could you please move?” one old woman said.
Y/N sighed as they pulled away “Taylor Swift was right when she said forever is the sweetest con”
“I’m sorry. You two are really adorable but I want to get home already” the woman said.
“No, it’s okay. We’re sorry” Y/N smiled kindly.
“Let us help you with your baggage” Jack offered, taking one of the suitcases while Y/N grabbed one of her bags.
“How long have you two been together?” the woman asked as they walked her to a taxi.
“Oh-uh…” Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to think they were together even though they never said the word ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’.
“Three months” Jack spoke up. “We live in different states, but we talk everyday. We never made it official, but in case you were wondering, and this is for you too Y/N/N, I feel that we are a couple”
The woman looked at Y/N, waiting for her answer. The girl smiled brightly, feeling the weight of her heart evaporating “I feel that way too, Jack”.
#jack champion#jack champion x y/n#jackchampion#jack champion x reader#jack champion oneshot#jack champion fluff#jack champion imagine#ethan landry#ethan landry fluff#jack champion fanfic#ethan landry fic#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry x y/n#ethan landry x reader
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Give You Blue
Chapter 4: Alone Together
Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)
Rating: Explicit (for mature content)
cw: switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Eren is in 3rd), angst, language, a bit of fluff
Word Count: ~5.7k
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist
Summary: You and Annie attend a dinner at the Mu Phi sorority house on campus. Reiner, on his way out of Delta Delta, ambushes you on the walk back to your dorm for a less than pleasant conversation. Later that week, RA Eren hosts a game-night for his fellow residents. But, with it being on a Friday right after midterms, he's disappointed when it flops. Fortunately, someone comes to his rescue. Author’s Notes: Hope you enjoy this one! Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Please let me know what you think, I thrive off of reading your comments! If you want to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know! Divider created by @/mikeykuns.
“Eren, are you paying attention?”
Armin waves his hands in front of his friend’s face, snapping Eren out of whatever reverie he’s stuck in. He shakes his head slightly, grinning. “Sorry, Armin. Sort of zoned out for a minute there.” They sit next to each other on Eren’s bed, watching a movie on his laptop. It’s Saturday night, and Eren actually agreed to be social today.
Armin taps on the space bar, pausing the film. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Are you sure you’re getting enough sleep?”
The real answer is no, but with Armin, he’ll only worry if he knows the truth. “Plenty. All eight hours,” Eren lies. In reality, he’s getting four hours tops. He stays up late studying, then spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, anxious about the future.
Oblivious, Armin responds happily. “Good! Living by yourself is already paying off. Sometimes I wish I could have my own space. The frat house can get pretty noisy, especially with Connie as a roommate.” He chuckles, reaching towards the bag of chips between them.
“Connie’s a blast to be around, though. I’m sure you’re having fun.”
“Yeah, I am. You should really come by the house.”
“Maybe. When I have time.” In all honestly, he has no intention of stepping foot in that frat house. Not because he has a disdain for Greek life; but because it’ll only show him what he’s missing out on. He already feels that way whenever he catches up with Mikasa and Armin, both thoroughly enjoying their college experience still.
Mikasa returns from the bathroom, hopping on the bed to squeeze next to Eren. “What did I miss?”
“We ended up pausing the movie anyways, so not much.” Armin passes the snacks to Mikasa, who throws a handful into her mouth.
They continue the movie, Eren’s mind drifting into space again. He’s already thinking about the upcoming chemistry midterm next week, how he hasn’t fully memorized the amino acids and their structures yet. And how he has to schedule a date to meet with Hange Zoë, a senior doing research in the lab, to see if he can shadow her for a month. On top of that, he’s planning on hosting a small event at the dorms, something to help his residents let off some steam after exams. It’s all too much. He wants to sleep and pretend that none of these obligations exist.
The credits roll on his computer screen. He blinks, fully unaware of what transpired during the movie. His friends hang around for a few more minutes before leaving to head to a party somewhere else on campus. Once again, he’s alone.
He is not motivated to study tonight, already burnt out from the last couple of days. Instead, he practices his electric guitar, working on a particular riff of this song he likes, replaying it over and over through his headphones. He loses himself in the music for a while, the closest thing to an escape that he can reproduce inside his own bedroom. Fingers sore from picking and strumming, he decides to call it a night. Face washed and teeth brushed, he snuggles under the covers, glancing at his phone. 11:00 PM. Wild night, he thinks to himself, laughing.
Suddenly, his brother’s name flashes across the screen. “Zeke?”
“Eren, hey. You’re not sleeping already, are you?”
“Nah. But I’m in bed.”
“On a Saturday night?”
“Yep.”
Zeke chuckles heartily. “Oh boy. I can already hear it in your voice. Welcome to the club, little brother. Your descent into med school hell is starting.”
“Yay, can’t wait,” Eren responds sarcastically. “Anyways, what’s up?”
“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Clearly not well.”
“I’ve been better.” He keeps his answer vague on purpose. With Zeke, he doesn’t go into too much detail with the emotions he’s experiencing. As much as he respects his older brother, the two of them don’t always see eye-to-eye. While Eren usually acts out of emotion, sometimes to a fault, Zeke is detached, unable to empathize with what his younger brother is struggling with.
“Is dad still giving you a hard time? I heard he wasn’t happy with your last quiz grade.”
Eren ignores the urge to ask how he knows about that, already aware that they talk about him behind his back. “I told him it was weighted, so technically I passed.”
“Well, you know how the old man is. Technicalities don’t really matter to him.”
He rolls his eyes, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom, almost regretting picking up this call. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying you should study harder.”
He’s fighting to keep his cool, his body tense with anger. Before he loses it, he mutters through gritted teeth, “Okay, thanks. I actually gotta go now, bye.”
“Eren, I’m just trying to help – ”
He doesn’t wait for Zeke to finish his sentence, already tapping on the red button to end the call. Now, with his mood ruined, he’s not sure if he can fall asleep. He wishes it was still daylight, specifically the golden hour when the sun sets. It would be the perfect time to head to his favorite spot: the beach that overlooks the shimmering expanse of blue ocean water separating Paradis and Marley. He discovered this area recently, on one of his drives that he takes to temporarily escape. It brings him peace, even if the moment is fleeting.
Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on his mom’s name, holding the phone back up to his ear. When her familiar voice greets him on the other line, the tears start flowing and he spends the next half hour confiding in her.
~~~
You and Reiner cuddle in bed, his nose nuzzled to the back of your neck, spooning you. Bertolt is home for the weekend, leaving the room to yourselves.
“Coco, are you still awake?”
You hum, snuggling closer to him, on the verge of sleep. He swallows hard behind you, as if he’s nervous. “I think I want to live in the fraternity house next semester.”
This gets your attention. Surprised, you turn around to face him. “What?”
“It’ll help me bond with my brothers better.”
“But we were supposed to live together.” The two of your agreed quite early in the semester that you would live together in one of the on-campus apartments. This news comes to you as a shock, since he’s never mentioned wanting to live on Greek Row, until now.
“I just want to try it out for a year, baby. When we’re juniors, we can find our own place off campus, so we can do whatever we want.” He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead. “Everything is going to work out, okay? You can wait a year, right?”
Of course you can wait; that’s what he asks you of, so you’ll do it. But you don’t want to. You had all these exciting ideas laid out in your head: cooking meals together, relaxing on the couch in each other’s arms, being alone without worrying about parents or roommates barging in on the two of you. Being together all the time.
“Coco, say something.”
It’s easy to get upset. Make a fuss and yell at him for being selfish. Simultaneously, you feel guilty for thinking this way, like you’re the bad girlfriend for disagreeing with it. For wanting him all to yourself.
“Okay,” you finally respond. “I’ll ask Annie if she wants to live together again, I guess.” It’s a compromise for the sake of making him happy. Because more than anything, you want him to be happy.
He smiles, kissing you on the lips. “You’re the best, you know that? I don’t know what I would do without you.”
You wake up, back in your own bed, Annie’s soft snores filling the quiet of the room. A quick glance at your phone shows you it’s only 4 AM in the morning. It’s been a few days since you dreamt about Reiner, a new record since the break-up. Still, whenever you do, it hurts as much as it did the first night.
He never warned you about wanting to move into the fraternity house. It came out of nowhere, a total and complete blindside, much like when he broke up with you. He’s been this way for a while, making rash decisions and springing it on you without a mention of it beforehand. You always end up going along with it, forcing yourself to accept it without disagreement. You never could stand up for yourself, thinking it was less hassle to bend for him than to argue about it. When you’re with someone for so long, the easy road seems the obvious choice, compared to one that has bumps and cracks along the way. But just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean it’s better; it doesn’t always lead you to the right destination. And maybe that’s why you are where you are now: lost.
It’s been almost two weeks since you saw him on that rainy day. Two weeks since he sent you that text message, which remains unanswered. There’s been moments where you stared at the screen, fingers ghosting the keyboard, wanting to send him a reply. Somehow, you’ve resisted those temptations. In the end, it’ll only lead to more heartache. The memories haven’t kept you up at night as much as it did before. Thankfully, your sleep schedule is back to normal, except for nights like this. You’re doing better each day. Annie’s two words to you are on constant loop in your head: Baby steps. Any progress, no matter how little or big, is still progress. As long as you don’t go backwards into a downward spiral.
Later in the week, Annie extends an invitation to eat dinner at one of the sorority houses on campus, Mu Phi. Hitch, a close friend, is a sister who currently lives there. As you approach Greek Row with your roommate, you look at the Delta Delta house right next door, wondering if Reiner is there, working as their hasher tonight. Possibly flirting with Christa or other sisters that surely find him attractive. You let the insecurities fade as soon as you knock on the door to Mu Phi, soon greeted by Hitch and two other friendly sisters. They lead you into the dining room, chatting about various topics, subtlety sneaking in how great sorority life is, asking if you’ve ever been interested. After all, they are constantly in recruitment mode, which doesn’t bother you. It feels nice to be desired.
During the meal, the conversations continue. Annie, being the secret gossip she is, mentions the neighbors. You briefly described to her your run-in with Reiner and Christa, so naturally, she’s been curious since. “What’s it like living next to them?”
Hitch replies, “It’s fine. Did you know that Mikasa’s a Delta Delta?”
“Really? She rushed? I guess they can’t be all bad,” Annie muses.
Hitch eyes her with an amused smirk on her face. “Why would you say that? Who’s in there that you don’t like?”
Before Annie can respond, you interrupt, not wanting to spread any unwarranted gossip. “She’s joking. By the way, who’s Mikasa?”
“She’s this girl that attends Annie’s kickboxing class.”
Annie adds, “She’s also our RA’s sister.”
“Eren?”
She nods, confirming. His appearance around the dorms has lessened, possibly because of the upcoming midterms. He is a pre-med major after all, so you’re certain he’s too busy studying to be out and about. You wished you could have seen his face when he received the bag full of Pocky you bought for him, as thanks for sharing his umbrella on that rainy day. “I didn’t know he has a sister.”
“She’s adopted, from what I heard,” Hitch comments. “But they’re super close. Her, Eren, and Armin.”
At that third name, you glance at Annie, a slight blush creeping on her cheeks. She had a class with Armin last semester, and they were paired up for a big project. From then on, your roommate has been smitten with him, but she’ll never admit it out loud. You also recognize the name as one of Reiner’s pledge brothers from the same fraternity, though you’ve never met him personally. Knowing he’s close to Eren already gives you the impression that he’s a nice guy.
The dinner ends with a tour of the house, not including the exclusive sleeping porch on the top floor, where all the sisters are forced to slumber beside each other. Right outside the entrance, you, Hitch, and Annie talk for a little while longer until your roommate announces, “My shift at the library is starting, so I have to leave now. Thanks for dinner Hitch!”
The three of you say your goodbyes, Hitch waving farewell from the door, you and Annie parting ways in opposite directions. It’s a clear sky tonight, the moon glowing brightly in the vast darkness, littered with barely visible stars. You take your time walking, enjoying the pleasantly cool air, admiring the other houses along Greek Row. From behind, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Coco.”
Before you face him, you curse under your breath, aware of exactly who it is. You find Reiner several feet away from you, presumably from the Delta Delta house. His fraternity is in the opposite direction, so he must have spotted you from afar, maybe heard you talking outside. You stand in place, waiting for him to catch up to you, ambushed.
“Hey,” he says, with a sheepish grin.
You nod stiffly, unsure what to do next. It’s too late to make a run for it. Impossible to turn back the clock and sprint your way across campus. You should have known better, especially when you already assumed he’d be working there tonight. It doesn’t matter now; you’re trapped.
“Are you heading back to your dorm?” he asks, hands in his pockets.
You nod once more, voice stuck in your throat, unable to speak.
“I’ll walk with you.” It’s not a question or a suggestion. It’s final. He’s determined to do it.
Reluctant, you let him, pivoting on your heel towards the direction of your dorm, remaining silent. He stays beside you, hands in his pocket, glancing at you hesitantly. “What were you doing at Mu Phi?”
So he did notice you first. Eyes focused on the ground, you answer, “Hitch invited us for dinner.”
“Christa also invited you, remember? To the Delta Delta house.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” You don’t mean to sound venomous; well, maybe you do. Why bother bringing that up?
“I’m just reminding you. She’s really nice, you know.”
You snap, annoyed and frustrated. “Yes, Reiner, I’m sure she is very nice. That’s why I think she’d understand why I refuse to go to that house for dinner.”
“Because of me?”
“Of course it’s because of you!”
He sighs, scratching his arm excessively. Something he does when he’s anxious. “I don’t understand why you’ve been ignoring me. I thought we agreed to be friends. You won’t even respond to my texts. How am I supposed to know that you’re okay?”
“Okay? You want to know if I’m okay? Reiner, I haven’t been okay since the day you broke up with me.”
“That’s why I’m trying to talk to you.”
You scoff, blood boiling. “You’re the last person I want to talk to. You’re the reason I’m not okay. You broke my heart.” It’s a cheap shot to blame him, but that’s what you do. Fire everything in your arsenal to defend yourself, to hurt him.
His expression turns sullen at your harsh words. “I couldn’t be your boyfriend anymore. It’s fucked up, I know. But I did what I thought was right. I didn’t want to string you along.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way? Why didn’t you talk to me about it? We tell each other everything. Why keep this away from me?”
He chews on his lip, nervous. “I was scared, okay? Really scared to lose you. I thought if I started talking about it, you’d break up with me and hate me forever. I wasn’t ready for that.”
You process this, not sure how you truly feel about it. On the one hand, you understand the fear of losing the most important person in your life. That’s what you two are to each other. Well, were. On the other hand, it isn’t fair that he makes decisions when he’s ready. What about you?
You arrive outside your dorm building, standing feet away from each other, your arms crossed over your chest, protecting your heart. When you don’t respond, he continues. “I care about you, Coco. You’re my best friend. You’re the most important person in my life.”
“You say that now, but eventually, somebody else will come along. Then what?”
Quietly, he replies, “I don’t know.”
You have to stand up for yourself. Hit him with the bitter truth even if it makes him uncomfortable. You’ve gone far too long agreeing to what he wants, following his plan, sacrificing your sanity to protect him. You don’t owe him anything. He decided to dump you when he was ready. That gives you free reign to do the same. “I don’t want to be a placeholder for whenever the next person comes along. Do you understand how painful that is? To know I’m temporary? I can’t be the most important person in your life. Not like this. That’s why we can’t be friends.”
He stares at you, dumbfounded that you won’t concede to him. Disappointed that he can’t get what he wants this time, after so many years of doing so. This is what it’s like to have control, to stick up for yourself. Maybe there is some good to come out of this breakup.
After a while, Reiner speaks, voice trembling, eyes glistening. “You can’t do this to me, Coco. I still…I still love – ”
“Don’t say it. Do not fucking say it.” You cover your ears, as if that will prevent your brain from finishing the rest of that sentence in your head.
“I mean it, though. No matter what happens between us. I want you in my life.”
“Why is everything about what you want? Have you ever considered what I want?” You begin to pace back and forth on the pavement, arms jittery, increasingly erratic.
A little louder now, a tinge of arrogance in his tone, he says, “We’ve known each other our whole lives. Pretty sure I have a good idea about what you want.”
“Well, you don’t. It’s different now. You don’t know me just as much as I don’t know you.”
“How can you say this right now? You’re just going to throw us away?!”
“You did it first!” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.
He steps towards you, hands in a desperate prayer, begging. “I don’t want to lose you. Please, Coco. I need you. I need you.” It’s the magic words that he so expertly chants to you. The ones that tug at your heartstrings, make you weak in the knees. And for a second, you consider taking everything back. Reach out and hold him, forget about the pain you’ve suffered these past two months and agree to be friends. Because you’d do anything to see him happy again. For this to be a long nightmare and to wake up together, perfectly back to normal.
But you don’t. And only because the entrance to your building suddenly swings open, revealing Eren at the door, inspecting the scene with a concerned expression on his face. “Is everything okay out here?”
Reiner glares at him for the interruption. “Who are you?”
Eren steps towards you, glancing at you and Reiner. “I’m Eren, the RA for this building. Heard some yelling and thought I should check it out.”
“Reiner is leaving now,” you murmur, avoiding Eren’s gaze, embarrassed. “I’m sorry for the commotion.” You turn to head inside, not bothering to wave goodbye to your ex, who stands there, watching you. Eren follows, sneaking glances at Reiner before swiping his ID at the door to let you both in.
“Coco,” he calls out. “Please.”
You ignore him, wiping your tears with the back of your shaky hands, listening to the door shut behind you.
“Are you okay?” Eren asks, voice calm.
You face him, forcing a weak smile, eyes still wet. “Perfectly fine.” You turn to hurry into your room, overwhelmed and wanting to hide in the safety of your bed forever.
Before you can, he grabs you gently by the hand, thumb brushing your knuckles. “If you ever need to talk or anything, my door is always open for you.”
You mutter a timid, “Thank you,” then rush down the hall and into your room, heart pounding against your chest. His comforting words replay in your head, trying to replace all that was said between you and Reiner.
~~~
At the end of the week, Eren hosts a game night in the common room of the dorm building. He’s excited to bond with his residents with pizza from his favorite local Italian joint and some good old-fashioned Mario Kart. He lays the food out on the table and sets up his Nintendo console to the TV, the familiar opening sequence playing on the screen. Then, he patiently waits for his first guest. Fifteen minutes pass and still no one shows up. Where is everybody?
At the thirty-minute mark, he lays down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. The pizzas are surely lukewarm now, and the same tune playing on the TV is starting to grate on his ears. He texts Mikasa and Armin, complaining about the complete lack of attendees. Immediately, he gets a call from his sister. When he picks up, she states, “Eren, nobody is there because it’s the Friday night after midterms.”
“So?”
“People are getting ready to party. That’s what I’m doing, that’s what Armin is doing. That’s what everyone is doing.”
Someone in the background yells, “Tell him to come out with us!” It’s Sasha’s voice.
He groans, realizing his mistake. “I’m such an idiot.”
“You’re not. Just come out with us. You deserve a break.”
He considers it for a few seconds, before he replies, “Thanks, but I’m gonna head to bed.”
Sasha boos him. “C’mon, Eren! Join us! It’ll be fun!”
“I’m tired, Sash. Next time.”
Believing she can’t be heard, she whispers to Mikasa, “He always says that.” Well, she’s not wrong.
Eren bids farewell to his friends, wishing them fun tonight. He lays on the couch for a while longer, trying to not to be too devastated at this failure of an event. Finally standing up, he heads to the table to begin packing.
“Am I too late?”
He turns around, surprised by her voice. The resident from down the hall, Room 104. The girl he’s seen cry at least three times now, the most recent being earlier in the week, outside the dorms. A small confrontation with the guy who Eren assumes is her ex, the cause behind all the tears. He was hoping to run into her soon, to check if she’s doing alright. He’s delighted to find her standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face.
“Hey,” he greets, waving at her. She steps towards him, inspecting the plethora of food on the table. He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “You’re the first person to show up, so we have plenty of food.”
She gives him a sympathetic look, opening the pizza box to grab a slice. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
He grins. “Hey, you’re here, aren’t you? That’s all that matters to me.”
As she settles in on the couch with her food, she explains, “I would have come earlier, but I was helping Annie get ready for a party.”
Eren takes the seat beside her, dropping a piece of pepperoni into his mouth. “I guess everyone really is going out tonight,” he muses, recalling what Mikasa told him earlier.
“Well, not everyone,” she reminds him, smiling. His chest swells with warmth seeing this side of her. Eyes free of tears, cheeks rounded with happiness, relaxed in his presence. He secretly resents Reiner, or whatever that guy’s name is, for putting her through all the misery she’s had to suffer.
They eat their pizza, chatting about arbitrary topics like favorite toppings, best local restaurants around the town, even a silly bet about who will beat who in a race. The upbeat melody of the Mario Kart intro still playing in the background is no longer annoying now that Eren has company.
One box only halfway finished, they wipe their hands clean of pizza grease to start the game, picking their favorite characters. Eren always opts for Yoshi, because of course he’s got to get the green dinosaur. She selects Toad, going on about how adorable she finds him, doing a decent impersonation of his high-pitched, bouncy voice, causing Eren to bust out laughing. They race, moving their bodies along with their controllers, bumping elbows and shoulders with bright smiles on their faces. She nudges him in the ribs when he tosses a red shell at her, knocking her off the course to take first place. He taps her knee with his when he slips on a banana peel she strategically lays out for him. It’s competitive, but not serious, both of them gloating and teasing one another at their victories. After going through most of the courses, they play battle mode, teaming up together to destroy CPUs on the most difficult levels.
After exhausting most of the game to their heart’s contents, Eren checks his phone, shocked that it’s already past 11 o’clock. He glances at her, checking if she’s ready to leave once they shut down the game. She remains beside him, her attention focused on the piano in the corner of the room. Pointing at it, she asks, “We have a piano in here?”, clearly never noticing it before.
He chuckles. “Yeah we do. Do you play?”
She shakes her head, standing up to approach it, sitting on one side of the bench. He follows her, taking his place next to her. It’s only now that he realizes how close they’ve been all night. His heart starts to beat faster for some reason.
Finger at a key, she presses on it, filling the room with a very out-of-tune C-note. “Do you play?” she asks.
“Not much, just the basics really. I’m better at guitar.”
“Acoustic?”
“Electric,” he answers, resting his hand on the piano, hovering his fingers over a chord.
“Electric guitar is so cool. I’d love to hear you play sometime.” It’s an innocent suggestion. But for whatever reason, Eren is shy about the idea of her being inside his room, watching him play his guitar. And for a split second, he imagines what other activities they can do with each other, in the privacy of his bedroom. He catches himself, mentally waving away the potentially inappropriate thoughts.
Desperate to change the subject, he suggests, “Want me to teach you something?”
She nods, eager to learn. He starts his thumb on a C-note. “This is a C-major scale. It starts here,” he presses down, wincing at how out of tune it is. “And then you follow through with the rest of your fingers. That’s a very basic scale, without complicating it too much.”
She does it easily, smiling at the keys in front of her. “Now can you teach me Moonlight Sonata?” she jokes.
He laughs. “How about Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star instead?”
“Fine,” she says, fake pouting. She’s really cute.
By midnight, she’s perfected the lullaby, enough for the two of them to sing along to it. Even with the notes out of tune, it’s still pleasant to listen to. He then shows her how to play the easiest version of Heart & Soul, a fun duet they manage to practice together within the hour. She’s a quick learner, which he appreciates. After their performance, she looks at him, smiling. “You’re a really good teacher.”
He brushes his fingers along the keys. “That was my dream job growing up. I always wanted to be a teacher.”
“A music teacher?”
“No, an elementary school science teacher,” he admits. “Thought it’d be so cool to blow their minds with little experiments or facts about the living things.” He stares distantly, a longing grin on his face, fantasizing an imaginary world where he’s pursuing a career he enjoys.
“So, what made you want to become a doctor instead?”
At this point, he’s speaking candidly, no longer worried about hiding the truth. He’s comfortable with her. “My dad. He’s a doctor, and it’s pretty much expected of me.”
“Are you enjoying it so far?”
“No, but at the end of the day, I’ll be helping people. And that’s what matters right?”
There’s a small pause in the conversation as she pushes on one of the keys, the note ringing out in the temporary quiet. “Teachers help people too. More than what society gives them credit for. And besides, no one wants to go to a doctor who isn’t happy being a doctor, right?”
He faces her, processing her statement. “I guess I never thought about that.”
She continues, drumming her fingers lightly on the piano. “You shouldn’t force yourself to do something you don’t want to. If there’s anything I’ve learned these past few months, it’s that forcing yourself to be happy doesn’t actually make you happy. It’s silly to say that out loud, like it’s so obvious. But I’ve made a lot of excuses, pretending I was fine with decisions made on my behalf without my feelings being considered. It was always easier to go along with it, avoid confrontation or an argument. But at what cost? Sacrificing my own happiness? It isn’t worth it, especially when it’s your life that you’re living, nobody else’s.”
This is about her ex. There’s a strong urge to ask her about it, offer a lending ear to listen to what else is on her mind. But he doesn’t question it further. The words she speaks to him resonate. Although they’re both going through different struggles in their lives, she understands him better than he expects her to. Maybe more than anyone in his circle of friends right now.
“I have a friend who’s an education major. Erwin Smith. His dad is also a teacher. I can give you his contact info if you want to talk to him?” she offers.
“I don’t know,” he responds hesitantly. He’s never considered changing his major. He can already picture the faces his father makes, disdainful and disappointment at his son “downgrading” his career.
“It doesn’t hurt to have it, right? Just in case?”
He thinks about it carefully before he eventually relents, whipping his phone out to type out the information she recites to him. She’s right; it doesn’t hurt to have it. It doesn’t mean anything.
Phone still in his hand, he abruptly blurts out, “We should exchange numbers.” Almost instantly, he regrets it, aware at how inappropriate that would be. But when she grins at him, nodding, he’s immediately relieved.
“I’m assuming this will be your personal number and not your RA emergency line?” she smirks.
Laughing, he confirms, “Yes, my personal number. I, um, enjoyed hanging out with you tonight. We should definitely do this again.” He passes her his phone as she does the same.
“You’re teaching me Moonlight Sonata next, remember?” she jokes, tapping her number into his screen.
“Yeah, of course.”
She slips her phone back into her pocket. “Also, if you ever need someone to talk to or listen to you, I’m just down the hall.”
“Hey, that’s supposed to be my line,” he teases, nudging her elbow with his.
“Well, you’ve helped me out way more than you know, so I want to do the same for you. Rely on me, okay? We’re friends now.”
Outside the room, students begin to stumble through the hall, back from their night of partying. Eren checks his phone, surprised to read 1:35 AM on the screen. “It’s already past 1. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”
“Don’t be. I wanted to be here with you. Thank you for hosting this.”
“Thank you for being the only person to show up.”
They gaze at each other, smiling. He wants to stay like this a little while longer, but he knows it has to end. At least, for tonight. They’re friends now, and he’ll be able to enjoy that warm, vibrant smile more often, he hopes.
“Anyways, we should probably sleep soon,” she suggests, glancing at the pizza boxes on the table. “I’ll help you clean up.”
“Thanks. Maybe we can hand some of these out. I bet someone out there has the munchies right now.”
She giggles. “Great idea, Mr. RA.”
They tidy up, clearing the room of trash and putting away the video game console back in Eren’s knapsack. She carries it with her while Eren balances the pizzas in his hands, offering a box to the passing residents that are not-so-discreetly drunk. By the time they make it to his room, he’s only got one left, deeming the event an overall success. Especially now that he’s made a friend from it.
She sets the bag down on the floor, watching him unlock the door. “I guess this is goodnight,” she says, giving him a small wave as she begins to step backwards down the hall, facing him.
“Yeah. I guess it is. Sweet dreams, okay?”
“Sweet dreams, Eren,” she repeats, turning on her heel to walk to her room.
~~~
You lay in bed, listening to Annie’s drunken snores beside you, mind focused on your new friend Eren. Snuggling closer to your pillow, you smile to yourself, happy for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s the most fun you’ve had this semester, and most importantly, it’s the longest you’ve gone without sulking about Reiner.
It’s in this moment that you realize the baby steps you’ve taken so far don’t seem so small anymore. Things are finally starting to look up.
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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 10
Marcus Pike x female reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.
Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* In-laws (nice ones though!), passing mention of federal agents possessing guns, family dynamics, that one family member that married someone awful, the mystery of Agent Bailey begins to unravel, discussion of life in the public eye, planning for the future, discussion of collaring.
Summary: After a rather dramatic birthday, heading to Texas to meet Marcus's family seems like a walk in the park.
Notes: I am 100% certain that I have missed errors this week, loves. But alas, ya girl is back to working five days a week and she is SO tired. ✌ Please enjoy the chaos that is the Pike extended family!
Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9
The flight from Washington DC to Dallas is just over three hours long and you had agreed that it would be better to leave early in the morning on Saturday to arrive at his family's compound before lunchtime. The last two weeks have been a dream as you and Marcus spend basically all of your extra time together, sharing dinners after work and alternating beds for overnight stays. He's even come to his first Friday Night Dinner with your family, which makes it all the more appropriate that you're now flying with him to meet his.
Airline points used, Marcus was well aware that on a commercial flight, Agent Bailey would be much more comfortable with First Class and boarding the plane last. Allowing for the rest of the plane to embark so they were not filing past her and you. Now that the flight is closed and you are settled into your seat, he looks over at you with a smile. "Ready for chaos?" He asks playfully, picking up your hand. "My family is....energetic."
“I’m excited,” you assure him. You’re also nervous, but that’s natural. His big family is having their annual springtime get together for the start of baseball season and — according to Marcus — this is the biggest Pike family get together of the year. It’s a week of pickup games with his cousins, big family meals, revisiting old favorite haunts, and catching up on life. It used to be a way to help distract Marcus and his Mom as his Dad started out the new season every year and started traveling, but now it’s just their favorite reason to get together.
“Don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t feel like.” Marcus insists. “Plenty of times half the cousins or wives and husbands end up in the stands watching and shit talking.”
“Baby if you think I’m not playing at least one game, you’re nuts.” Marcus has been so sweet about reassuring you and making sure you know nothing is expected of you on this trip, but frankly it just sounds like fun. Like the kind of happy chaos that is a complete break from your normal life.
He flashes you a grin. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He admits shamelessly. “After the games, we grill out or eat whatever we threw on the smoker that morning.” He shrugs. “It’s a party the entire time.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” You have been, and you are, and seeing him get excited would make the whole thing worth it even if you weren’t.
“Everyone is excited to meet you.” He promises. “Oh and mom asked if you had any allergies? Food or otherwise?” He shoots you a sheepish grin. “Forgot to ask.”
“Nothing at all. I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and sniff whatever weird Texas plants you guys have got.” A teasing grin counters his embarrassed one. “My brother and I did a campaign stop in Texas; I don’t think there was anything too sniffly in Austin. But I know the state is big.”
“Huge.” He snorts, smirking slightly. “You know what they say. ‘Everything’s bigger in Texas’.” He jokes.
"Oh yeah?" The smirk that forms on your face is immediate and you lean over to nudge his shoulder. "Is that how you grew up so big?"
“Not that big.” He chuckles. “My cousins – the males – are bigger.”
Snorting slightly, you can't help but laugh as you nudge Marcus again. "That sounds painful."
“Shit.” Marcus chokes and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that.”
"Well good," you're still laughing, juvenile sense of humor on full display even if you're quiet. "Otherwise I'd feel bad for their spouses."
He snorts and leans into press his lips to yours. “I’m the biggest.” He boasts, completely lying and he winks to acknowledge that. Not like him and his cousins have compared…since before puberty.
"Naughty." It's chastising, but you giggle as you steal another kiss as you both settle back in your seats for a short but comfortable flight.
Marcus hums as the flight attendant comes by. “Do you want a mimosa?” He asks softly. “Start our vacation off right?”
"Why not? Let's have a fancy flight." First class is already a bit of an extravagance, and you smile at the flight attendant gratefully. They are well aware of who is on board – Agent Bailey had background checks run on the flight crew as a precaution – and discreetly point out your agent to the gentleman. "And a cup of coffee for the woman in the suit right over there? She'll say she doesn't want anything but I know she'd love a cup right about now."
“Yes madam.” He nods and smiles back at you, finding it refreshing that you aren’t over demanding like some political figures. One asshole really set his teeth on edge last month.
"Thank you so much." The last thing you want to do is make a fuss for the flight crew, and you sit back with Marcus's hand in yours. As nervous as you might be, this is going to be a good week.
“Anywhere you want to see in particular?” Marcus asks, stretching his legs in the extra space the first row gives you. “We don’t have to rent a car. Although I know Agent Bailey will want one of the Secret Service vehicles to follow.
"I want to see whatever you want to show me. Any place you used to hang out when you were growing up, or favorite local places, or even places you've never been that you've always wanted to go." It's his hometown, after all, even if he wasn't born there. Texas is where he became the Marcus that you know and love.
“There’s a band that’s playing Friday night.” Marcus tells you. “At the bar where I used to play.” He chuckles. “It’s my old bandmates.”
"One hundred percent." Your agreement is absolutely instant and there is a giant smile on your face. "No contest. It will be the perfect way to spend our last night in Dallas. Well...last night for now. I know we'll come back plenty of times."
“Awesome.” His grin is wide, happy that you would want to listen to some music and hang out. Potentially meeting old friends. “Then that’s what we’ll do. You’ll like the place.”
"I'll love it." Just like everything else this week, you're looking forward to it because it's something that you'll share with him. It's the early memories of your relationship, as you share the things with each other that made you who you are.
The family compound is exactly that. A compound. Built during the first contract with the Yankees, Pike’s Place as it was fondly referred to, had started out as a way for Marcus’s dad to build the retirement home of his parents’ dreams and ended up being the multi-generational property it is today.
There are more than a half dozen buildings in the property, a large pool and a garden, and even their own personal baseball diamond. It’s like having a resort built specifically for his family. Stuck smack in the middle between a ranch to the south and another large family property to the north, no one would even have any idea that neighbors existed around here if they weren’t told about it.
The main house is a beautiful American Craftsman-style building with a deep front porch and a swing out front, painted bold blue and white against the yellow Texas sun. Matthew and Donna Pike’s house is well-appointed but far bigger than it looks on the outside, and all around it is a stunning garden that they keep together as a shared hobby. The backyard sprawls on endlessly, but for right now you can see more cars than people. It looks like everyone is congregating with Uncle Matt and Aunt Donna.
Marcus’s smile gets visibly wider the closer you get and when the car stops, he’s almost vibrating with joy. He’s not nervous at all, knowing that his entire family will adore you. “Are you ready?” He asks again, not even waiting to the reply before he is shooting out of the car to open the door for you.
“You didn’t tell me you grew up in the cutest place on Earth,” you tease happily, practically giggling at how picturesque it is as you get out of the rental car.
“It’s home.” He looks around the property proudly. “Even when we were living somewhere else because of dad’s job, this was always home.”
“It’s beautiful.” You squeeze into his side and grin back at Agent Bailey as she gets out of the second rental car. “I hope you get to relax a little while we’re down here, too. It’s got to be a hell of a nice change of pace from looking at the inn every day.”
Agent Bailey notes the fence that seems to stretch around the property with approval. “We might be more secure here.”
“Glad to hear it.” Anything that makes her more comfortable is more than okay with you. With as hard as she works, she deserves to be able relax whenever she can.
“Dad installed a fence when he had some fans come up to the house when he was on an away trip.” Marcus explains. They had done one of those ‘where the star athletes live’ things in the Sports Illustrated magazine and someone figured out where it was.” He shakes his head. “Dad was furious, and the compound got an upgrade.”
“Sounds like a solid response to me,” the Secret Service agent agrees as she looks around the property.
“Although, he does open the compound up for youth programs. Training, spending the day with baseball players.” Marcus smiles proudly.
“I love how proud of him you are.” You slip your hand into Marcus’s again and give him a beaming smile. “Time for the chaos, baby. Let’s do it.”
Marcus laughs as the two of you hear the playful shouts from the backyard. The little welcoming barbecue that your father had insisted on was already in full swing. He can’t wait to see how you take all of his cousins and nieces and nephews wearing name tags.
It only takes about a second before someone notices you, letting out a boisterous shout across the yard and garden. “Well, looky what the cat dragged in!”
“Charlie.” Marcus leans in to tell you as every head turns your way. “First cousin from my mom’s side. Can’t believe he’s the first one.”
“Is Charlie not usually this friendly?” You ask under your breath, smiling and waving as more and more heads turn your way.
“Just…unobservant.” Marcus hums, smiling wider when his mother drops her platter of finger foods on a table and rushes forward. “You made it!”
Dr. Donna Pike is a tall woman with a wide smile and honey brown eyes, but right now her most noticeable feature is her long arms which reach out to fold out her only son like a protective mama bird. "Flight was okay?" She asks, smiling at Marcus's nod before she shifts over to hug you in turn.
When she had been told that Marcus had found his soulmate, she had been thrilled. Not because he had to be with his soulmate, she wasn’t narrow minded like that, but because he’s always had so much love to give. She can only hope that you will do well receiving it and return a fraction of it back to him. The others hadn’t seen how pure his heart is. She says your name and squeezes you tight. “How are you? It’s such a delight to meet you.”
"Thank you for having me." Her hands are on your shoulder and it's instantly obvious where Marcus's beaming smile comes from. "I've heard so many wonderful things from Marcus about his family, I'm really excited to meet everyone."
“Well if anyone is too much, or we all are, you just tell us to go away.” She snorts, shooting you a grin. “We are a bit much as a collective.”
"I promise my threshold for much is very high." It has to be, with the kind of people that are always around political figures, but this week is not about you. You do smile again, though, and urge Agent Bailey to come closer than her usual three steps away. "And thank you for understanding that things are not very conventional for me right now. This is Agent Bailey. She's my duty agent and an absolutely superb human."
Donna smiles at the agent, although she doesn’t attempt to hug her. Aware that it might be deemed as threatening. “She is also extremely welcomed.” She nods and offers her hand. “I hope you can relax and have some fun as well, Agent Bailey. We have a comfortable room set up for you at the top of the stairs, just down the hall from them.”
"Thank you, Dr. Pike." Agent Bailey accepts the handshake gratefully. Some people perceive her presence as threatening and that just isn't the case. Especially not here.
“Please, call me Donna.” She insists. “Now, we’ve told the children they are not to ask about your gun, but I do hope that you will change out of your suit into more weather appropriate clothes?” She asks. “Texas is too hot for bespoke all day.”
Agent Bailey actually laughs at that, and you smile when she nods. "I'll be dressed down while I'm here, don't worry about that. Being conspicuous doesn't do much good in protection most of the time."
“Good.” Marcus’s mother smiles. “I’ve also taken the liberty of moving Marcus’s gun safe into your room. For when you are needing to secure it.” She frowns and looks towards Marcus. “Did you bring your own, sweetheart? I didn’t think to ask.”
"Very kind of you, ma'am, but not necessary." Agent Bailey assures her. "I have a portal safe in my luggage. Agent Pike also has his firearm so we'll both be secure and safe that way."
“Told you.” Matthew Pike snakes his arm around his wife and kisses her cheek. “Always overthinking. But I love it.”
"Precautions are good, sweetheart," Donna reminds him, but she smiles.
Marcus and his father could be twins, except for the older man has more pronounced wrinkles from a career spent in the sun. “So this is the gorgeous creature the universe paired you with?” He unwinds his arm from around his own soulmate to pull his son into a bear hug. “Aren’t you a lucky man?”
"I swore I was only going to do this once while we were here." Standing beside Marcus and practically vibrating, you know you probably look silly but you don't care. "Mr. Pike, I am a huge fan and I promise there will be no more fangirling from this point on, but I just wanted to say that once."
There’s a grin that matches his son’s, currently on both of the Pike men’s faces. “Marcus….she has taste.” He teases, winking at you and pulling you in for a hug. “You can fangirl all you like, sweetheart.”
“I’m just very excited to be here,” you admit, laughing as you hug your soulmate’s father in turn. “Marcus…he’s absolutely amazing. I hope you’re as proud of him as he is of both of you.”
“More-so.” Matthew promises, already liking you. “Although, let’s get you settled and a first drink in your hand before we introduce you to everyone else, hm?”
You and Marcus follow his parents through the house and Agent Bailey notes the features of the house with interest but doesn’t interfere. So far, everything is straight forward. She just hopes it stays that way. For your sake.
The tour of the house is easy. A large, open concept main living area is perfect for entertaining, and lines of sight. “Our bedroom is downstairs.” Donna explains. “So you kids will have the top floor to yourselves. Everyone else is staying in the bunkhouse this trip.”
The bunkhouse, as it has been explained to you, is the largest building on the compound which basically amounts to a Pike family motel. Plenty of parking and plenty of rooms to stay in makes it the place that is customarily occupied by Marcus's enormous brood of cousins. "And I'm sure Marcus told you," Matthew glances back at you as the five of you walk together. "But the basement is a game room. Foosball table, game systems, all that kind of thing."
“I was going to show her.” Marcus admits with a shrug. “But she’s bowled in the White House, I doubt our game room would impress her.”
"You are seriously underestimating my love of foosball," you assure Marcus. "I'm terrible at it, but I love it."
“Don’t worry.” Matthew chuckles. “My son excels at pool but cannot figure out a foosball table.”
"Then we can be terrible together," you decide, thankfully garnering a laugh from both Marcus and his parents.
“Which will be a lot of fun.” Marcus chuckles. “When bad weather rolls through, we enjoy the game room and there are people everywhere.” He warns. “One time, we had a checkers tournament, so all the little kids could be involved too.”
The group of you stop in the kitchen for large glasses of sweet tea, and Agent Bailey excuses herself to bring her things upstairs and change into some more civilian-oriented clothes. There are pictures of the family all around the house, but none as prevalent as the pictures of Marcus. His graduations, his triumphs, and some absolutely adorable childhood photos adorn the walls of the house, and you smile at every single one. At one time his wedding picture must have hung on these walls too, or other pictures of him and Lara, and for a moment your heart clenches with regret that he was ever hurt but swells with the knowledge that he’ll never be hurt like that again. The next wedding pictures on these walls will be of you with him, and those will never be coming down.
“Home sweet home.” Marcus hums, watching you take in the space that he had mostly grown up in.
“Ready kids?” Matthew Pike chuckles, opening the sliding kitchen doors to the backyard with great ceremony.
“Don’t worry.” Marcus quickly assures you. “Everyone has had their rabies shots. So they aren’t as feral as they seem.”
For all the teasing, the hugs from his cousins are immediate. They descend on you like a swarm of eager birds, flapping their wings and chattering away as they all introduce themselves and say how happy they are to see Marcus and to meet you.
Marcus smiles at every one of them. Greets them like long lost friends, which they are. They are the friends of his entire childhood and he's happy to introduce you.
A man wearing a name tag that marks him as Uncle Rob holds up two more name tags proudly — one emblazoned Marcus and the other Birdie. “Marcus told us you prefer your nickname,” his father explains with a grin.
“It’s perfect,” you assure them, taking the name tag with a bursting heart. “Absolutely perfect.”
“Uncle Rob is a treasure.” Marcus tells you as he is pulled into a hug and slaps his uncle’s back.
"Uncle Rob is his mother's younger brother," the man clarifies with a happy grin. "Four of the cousins are ours, but I won't quiz you on the family tree just yet."
"I appreciate that." Your laugh of acknowledgement comes easily. "But I've been studying, I promise."
Marcus laughs, knowing how worried you had been over this visit, and it seems as if you are blending in well. He reaches out and squeezes your hip affectionately. “She’s a quick study.”
"Probably mandatory." One of his cousins – her nametag says Selena – teases as she offers you a hug. "Can't imagine the way family debates go when your Mom is the President."
"They're....active." You admit with another laugh. The hug is readily accepted, too. Pikes are apparently very huggy people. "I'm just glad we don't have to come up with opening and closing arguments."
She laughs and nods. “No, but here you might be asked the ERA or RBI stats of anyone you are a ‘fan’ of.” She advises. “So beware.”
"I can absolutely handle stats." For some reason Selena's energy is a lot more calm and reassuring than some of the other cousins, and you feel a little more at ease with her at the moment. "Most of the time I've got those on lock even when nobody's asked."
“How do you take your hotdog?” She asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Get it right and we can be friends.”
"It's not gonna be what you want it to be," you laugh, though you do appreciate the way Selena measures her new acquaintances. "I'm from Philly, so pepper hash and spicy mustard."
Her frown is replaced by a smirk and she nods. “You didn’t say ketchup, so you’re good in my book.” She smirks, eyeing Marcus who is huffing and rolling his eyes. “I don’t claim her.” He snorts.
"Too bad," you tease back, looping your arm through his cousin's. "She's delightful and I'm adopting her immediately."
“She’s not housebroken.” He warns, ducking the playful swat she aims towards him.
"Neither is my brother, and we let him into the White House," you snort, laughing even harder when Selena snickers.
Matthew chuckles and he pats his son on the shoulder. “Too late now, son, Selena has charmed her.” He advises.
"I steal hearts," the woman beside you jokes, throwing you an exaggerated wink. "My parents named me after Selena Kyle. It's not my fault."
“Last year you said you were named after Selena Quintanilla-Pérez.” He reminds her with a grin, slapping away her hand again and tapping her chin fondly. “You were lying?” Of course she was, considering she was nine when Selena rose to fame.
"You should keep the Catwoman reference," you advise her with a grin. "Mysterious and nerdy. Very sexy choices."
“See?” Selena smugly grins at Marcus. “Your soulmate has taste.”
Marcus can’t help but grin at that. “So I keep hearing.”
“I have the very best taste.” You agree with that assessment wholeheartedly, leaning back over to Marcus to kiss his cheek.
That makes him laugh quietly and he leans in to hug Selena. “You do. Especially in soulmates.” He teases.
“Oh no.” Pretending to be grossed out, Selena rolls her eyes dramatically but is smiling fully at seeing her cousin happy. “Did you finally find someone as gross as you are when you’re in love?”
“Grosser.” Marcus hums, grinning at you lovingly. “My perfect match.”
“Stop hogging them!” A voice calls out from halfway down the yard, and yet another of Marcus’s smiling cousins can be seen lounging on a picnic table. “We all need to get our annual harassment in, ya know!”
“Oh god.” Marcus hangs his head, even as he laughs. He knows everything is in good fun and he will be harassing them right back.
Thank god for the nametags. You'd be utterly lost without them, even after the flashcards you made for yourself with permission from Marcus to scout his Facebook page for photos of his family. There are just too many of them. The conversations swirl and so do the introductions, but Marcus sticks with you. By the time everyone starts eating the conversation dies down a little and you find yourself at a table with Marcus, his parents, Selena, and her twin sister Harper. Plates of barbecue and cold salads come with fresh glasses of cold sweet tea or cans of soda, and the most relaxed atmosphere of chaos you've been in the middle of in a long time. In your book, this is vastly preferable to a State dinner.
“So what do you think?” Even Agent Bailey has a plate and a drink in her hand, talking to Rodger, one of his dad’s oldest friends. He always comes to these weeks. “She’s gonna relax some?”
"Seems like it." The sight of Agent Bailey socializing is like a miracle to you. A unicorn in real life if ever you saw one. "Any chance your Dad's friend is a beer guy? I found out last week that Agent Bailey brews her own as a hobby and I am endlessly fascinated by all the niche hobbies I keep finding out she has."
Marcus chuckles. “Rodger owns the brewery that supplies the Rangers with the Pike’s Pints.” He explains. “So he’s kind of a renaissance man when it comes to beer.”
"So she has a new best friend?" You laugh, leaning into his side as you eat. "That's fantastic. I hope she has some new ideas to be excited about by the time the week is out."
“My question is this…when does she have time?” He asks, shaking his head. “She’s always with you.”
"I don't think she sleeps." It's a question you've asked yourself plenty of times, but have yet to find an answer. "Apparently she has a dog and a husband and everything? A whole damn life. I'm so glad that doing the job she does hasn't kept her from it."
“Holy shit.” He snorts and looks back at the woman in question with more than slight admiration. “She’s a superhero.”
"She really is." There's no denying that whatsoever.
The meal progresses and his mother smiles at you. “So please, tell me about your inn.” She insists. “Marcus said that you have created a beautiful oasis.”
"It's my happy place." The question – and the description – make you beam. "And...sort of my first child, as well. I bought it from the previous owners a few years ago and my best friend runs the restaurant. It's a beautiful historical property in Alexandria, just outside of DC."
“It sounds like it’s your baby.” She smiles happily and nods. “He has had nothing but praise for it, and you, since his first phone call.”
"He's been wonderfully supportive. I couldn't ask for a more understanding or helpful partner." You do flash him a grin, though, and decide to rat him out to his mother just a tiny bit. "I do think the restaurant is at least half the reason he spends so much time there, though. It's amazing."
“He has always led with his stomach.” Donna snorts, shooting you a conspiratorial grin. “When he was a teen, he was always starving.” She intones dramatically.
"Isn't that how all teenage boys are made?" The laugh you share isn't at his expense, just shared amusement, and you pick up your sandwich again. "At least, my brother was always that way. I swear he ate six meals a day from ages twelve to twenty."
Marcus laughs and Donna rolls her eyes. “Marcus still sometimes eats six meals a day.” She snorts. “At least that’s the way it sounds when he calls. Always snacking.”
“That’s probably my fault these days,” you admit with a guilty grin. “I’m a snacker. Maybe that’s just another fun little quirk in the broad scheme of things.”
“I just have to run more.” Marcus chuckles, picking up a pickle spear and biting it in half. “So I can still beat everyone here stealing second.”
“We’ll see.” Selena narrows her eyes at him in challenge. “I’ve been training.”
“Oh you have, have you?” Marcus snorts and winks at his cousin. “Twenty bucks says I steal more bases than you.”
“Fine,” Selena shrugs, smirking as she leans back in her seat. “I’ll be out there stealing more hearts, anyway.”
“I’ve already got the heart I want.” Marcus informs her, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it dramatically.
“I love you, too.” Over the weeks, the promise has become stronger between the two of you and little daydreams about the future don’t seem so far off anymore — though you haven’t really planned anything beyond agreeing that you want to be together.
"See?" He smirks towards Selena with a fluttering of his lashes. "She loves me, so I am complete."
“You’re completely gross and I’m very happy for you,” Selena teases back. “You’ll have the picturesque wedding you always dreamed of, and a million kids, and make an east coast version of Pike Place.”
"Ohhhhh." He tilts his head curiously as he looks back at you. "Modern day Kennedy Compound?" He suggests. "Our version of Hyannis Port at the inn?"
“That’s a lot bigger than a little colonial cottage at the back of the grounds,” you remind him, but the idea makes your chest swell with absolute love. “But I think if we build at the back of the property we could do a bigger house and get away with it. People wouldn’t even be able to tell the two are connected.”
He smiles at the idea. "We will have to find out who owns the property adjoining yours." He hums. "Expand."
“So you’re already talking about a family, then?” His father, obviously enamored of the thought, smiles broadly. His son has always been a family man, even when that definition just meant his best friends were his cousins.
"We are planning out a lot of things." Marcus admits with a grin, unable to contain the happiness at the idea. "Not sure when that's going to happen, but we are on the same page."
“Maybe sometime before we’re too old and gray to travel all the way to DC?” Matthew jokes, although he’s only half joking.
You groan quietly and Marcus smirks as he looks at you expectantly. "Told you." He laughs. "You said your parents would be first, but I knew it was going to be mine."
“I’m still shocked my Dad didn’t bring it up at dinner last night,” you admit. You had been absolutely certain that your folks would use Friday night dinner as a chance to interview you about your intentions as a couple.
"I'm sure he wanted to." He laughs. "But we've classified that as Need To Know." He jokes.
“That may be the only way to survive with them.” Still, you can’t help but let the smile grow on your face. “By their standards, we’re taking positively forever.”
"I guess that means we should just run off to Vegas and get married." Marcus teases with a wink. "Really mess with their expectations."
“We would have four parents very upset with us,” you remind him. Every time you joke about getting married or have a little daydream it just sounds better and better, but you would never push him to elope. His family means to much to him, just like yours does to you.
"Yes they would." Donna points her fork at him playfully. "I don't care how you get married, I just want to be there."
“Yes ma’am.” That gets an instant agreement from you — not at all ready to set the precedence of going against your future mother-in-law about something like this.
"Good." She smiles in approval and smirks at her husband. "We will clear our schedules whenever they decide on a date."
"Well," you laugh, leaning into Marcus's side. "I guess you were right about not needing to worry over their approval."
“The fact that I love you is all my parents ever need to know.” He smiles and Matthew nods. “Marcus has a good head on his shoulders and a heart of gold. With you being his soulmate, you have to be the same.”
For dinner on your second night in Texas, Marcus promises to take care of everything and disappears with a grin on his face while his mother and Selena take you on a long walk around the large gardens of the compound. Anticipating a little girl talk and some bonding with his family, you had readily agreed.
“So how are you liking Texas, Birdie?” Donna asks curiously as the three of you stroll in the warm morning. You have been a dream to have visit and it’s obvious that you adore Marcus, so she has loved you being here. She just wants to make sure the feeling is mutual.
“It’s beautiful.” It’s not too hot yet, being the beginning of April, and walking around the compound is a nice way to settle in and work off the big breakfast everyone had this morning. “I’ve only been here once before and this is far less stressful.”
“I am sure the campaign trail was never relaxing.” She sympathizes softly. “Although, if you have to take up the trail again, we can offer you a respite from the questions and prying wherever we can.” With being her baby’s soulmate, she will be just as protective over you.
“I’m sure when re-election comes, I’ll be volunteering to come to Texas again just to be able to see my in-laws.” The thought is actually relaxing, to be able to take respite with such kind people, but the in-laws part excites you a bit.
“In-laws.” She beams when you say that. “Now I promise I won’t insist that you call me ‘mother’ or anything, but I hope that we can be friends.”
“Let’s start with Donna and Birdie and go from there,” you suggest, smiling just as broadly as she is. “I absolutely want us to be friends. Marcus loves you all so much and I know it means the world to him.”
“He is our only child, and we want him to be happy.” She promises. “But that doesn’t mean smothering him or not letting him live his life.” She laughs. “Matthew almost had a heart attack when he came home one break to find Marcus with shoulder length hair and an earring. But he never said a word.”
“Oh, please tell me you have pictures of that.” Marcus had told you about his long hair phase, but claimed no photos remained. You’ve been hoping that his parents have one tucked away somewhere.
Donna grins. “I have them all.” She promises. “Snuck them up to the attic before he could burn them.”
“He looks like the nerdiest member of Nirvana,” Selena snorts, giggling with the jovial malice only family can truly master.
“He was…too polite to really pull off the grunge look.” Donna admits, smiling at Selena’s almost evil outlook.
“He’s such a sweetheart.” There are hearts in your eyes when you say it and you don’t care to hide them one bit. “It’s—he’s better than I could have dreamed of for myself. Truly.”
“I have to confess….” Donna looks out over the gardens and sighs. “I have been so very worried about Marcus. He’s is such a loving man. He always has been, from the time he was a baby. But when he called me to say he had discovered his soulmate…” she looks back at you. “I was so very afraid that you wouldn’t understand his heart.”
“How do you mean?” She obvious cares for her son very deeply, and you do want to make sure that the relationship you have with her is honest. No misunderstandings if you can help it — which means asking for clarification. “Because he’s so giving and quick to jump in headfirst?”
“Yes….and no.” She admits. “Marcus is….well, he’s a caretaker. A fixer. You have a problem, he comes up with a solution. You feel tired and down, he will take some of your burden and try to cheer you up.” She sighs softly. “Oftentimes, so many women have been conditioned to be strong, independent, so they view that as misogyny or finding them helpless. It’s insulting to them and they resent him for it.”
“They don’t understand that offering care is his way of being supportive. It’s not that he doesn’t think they can do it themselves, it’s that he views being helpful as a romantic gesture as much as anything else.” You nod, understanding that entirely. “I think the hardest part for Marcus and me right now is that we’re both like that a lot of the time. Which means we’re constantly doing little fixes or giving little gifts or making little gestures. We’re still finding the balance.”
“That makes me feel better.” She admits with a smile. “You understand his need in doing it.”
“He wants me to know I don’t have to do it alone,” you acknowledge, offering her a smile as you walk. “And I want to make sure he knows the same.”
“You two truly are soulmates.” She chuckles. “And I have never been more happy to say those words.”
“Just as happy as I am to hear them, I promise you.” Stopping in your steady tracks, you touch her arm gently and offer her a slightly more serious look. “A lot of people interpreted the things I said on the campaign trail to mean that I’m against soulmates, but I’m absolutely not. I just don’t think anyone should be discriminated against for who they love. Anyone, and unfortunately a lot of people still believe only soulmates should be able to get married.”
“Those people…in my most professional opinion…” Donna snorts. “Are assholes.”
“Agreed.” You nod your head but Selena snorts at her aunts phrasing as the three of you start walking again.
“Do you have any specific plans while you are here?” Donna asks, curious if you had wanted to spend the entire time at the compound.
“I want to see whatever Marcus wants to show me.” It seems like an easy answer, but honestly you’re just here to meet his family and spent time with your soulmate. Anything more is a bonus. “Or anything you guys have in mind. I just…” you shrug in admission. “I never take vacations. So I’m reminding myself not to worry about work and trying to relax.”
“A workaholic.” She smirks slightly. “Something I’m very well-versed in.” She teases.
"Can't exactly stop yourself from taking work home with you when you live at work," you admit with a grin.
“As long as it’s work you love, I don’t see a problem with it.” Donna tells you.
"I really do." They already know that, of course, from how much and how proudly you talk about the inn. But still, you're beaming. "Marcus suggested we look at building our house on the property since I already own it, and I think it's only going to be a little while before we start in on that plan."
Building something together is something that Donna highly approves of. She nods. “Word of advice?” She offers with a smirk. “Have a general contractor negotiate any and all disagreements.”
"Noted," you agree instantly, knowing that Marcus's parents have a whole lifetime of experience in this particular area.
“It will solve a lot of arguments.” She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Over tile size!”
When Selena snorts out a laugh you have to suppose it's a family joke or at least and a family story, and you laugh too. "It's always something small, isn't it?"
“Yep.” She shakes her head and laughs. “One fight was about if the dishwasher should be on the left or right side of the sink.” She huffs. “Matthew rarely loaded the dishwasher, but thought that it continuously unfair to live in a right handed world as a leftie.” She rolls her eyes again, although it’s more amusement than annoyance.
Small things always seem large when they're under the microscope, and you can see how those things could get out of hand. But fortunately, from what you and Marcus have talked about so far, you're mostly on the same page right from the start. "I can see us tussling over little things pretty easily, but I think it will all turn out pretty well in the end. It's definitely a solid way to work through our skills in compromise and communication, though."
“Marcus knows how to communicate.” She promises. “He’s good at it, and if he’s not, I’ll give you free sessions.” She jokes, knowing the last thing any couple would want is to have an in-law involved.
"You'll be glad to hear that I have an excellent therapist to help me handle stressors and any manner of other unexpected event in my life that I need extra help in processing." The importance of simply having an impartial third party is not lost on you, but having a professionally trained and educated one is all the more important when possible stressors could include death threats sent to your family members.
“Very glad.” She nods and reaches out to pat your hand gently. “You are under a lot of pressure. That is obvious.”
"When we get back I have a meeting at the White House." Though you shudder for dramatic emphasis, it is unnerving. Those meetings about social outreach and the image of the First Family had gone well for Junie and Alex but since you're fairly certain what your mother will ask of you, you're dreading it.
“If you ever want to talk, just to vent, you can call me.” Donna offers softly. “Not in a professional capacity, although anything you say would be kept between us.”
"I really appreciate that." It's not something she has to offer. Not at all. But you're so grateful that your soulmate's parents have so far turned out to be wonderful people.
“Of course.” You might not take her up on the offer, but she wanted to extend it.
"And I hope you know you're always welcome in DC. Anytime, no hesitations." You swing back to grin at Selena on your other side. "You too. We could use another partner in crime."
“I am absolutely going to come visit.” Donna promised, and Selena nods eagerly. “Me too! I want to see this inn.”
"If you want to come and stay there, I'll have a word with the owner," you joke, and throw in a wink.
“And the food.” Donna insists. “Marcus has raved about your best friend, Sydney.”
"She's an absolute goddess." You promise them both. Building up your friends and loved ones is always easy for you. "Just the most talented chef you could possibly imagine. And an amazing person, to boot."
“She has to be.” Selena isn’t joking this time. “Marcus doesn’t waste time on people who aren’t amazing.” Now she gives a small, preening grin. “Which is why he loves me so much.” She jokes.
“I know what it is.” After about one full day of hanging out with Selena, you’ve narrowed down why it is that you are so comfortable with her, and it makes you laugh endlessly. “You’re exactly halfway between my best friend and my brother. Who are two of my top three favourite people in the world, despite the crap I give my little brother on a daily basis.”
“That sounds like a high compliment if I’ve ever heard one.” She laughs. “I’m the little sister Marcus never wished he had.”
“He loves all of you like siblings.” Even if he hadn’t said so explicitly, it’s easy to tell.
“We grew up together.” She agrees. “Even if we lived apart, summers together were important. Holidays spent driving each other and our parents crazy.” There’s a fond smile on her face. “Hopefully our kids will experience the same things.”
“I hope so, too.” The idea head settled into your bones and made you sunny with daydreams. “My siblings’ kids, too. The biggest family we can possibly make for them, since we never had any cousins growing up.”
“Pikes tend to assimilate the families that join them.” Donna shoots you a grin. “They are like the Borg.”
“That’s how we collected friends when I was a kid,” you laugh. The Pikes are definitely not like the Borg — they all feel far too much for that and you adore it. “Make friends with one of the three of us and suddenly you were just another family member.”
“That sounds familiar.” Selena snorts. “We love having people around. The more the merrier.”
“Absolutely.” The morning sun has hit the top of the sky but it’s not too hot, just making you stop warding off the crisp breeze as it disappears into a mellow midday.
“If you don’t mind me asking…” Selena hesitates. “There was some talk about you dating a Congressman?”
There it is. You were wondering how long it would take someone to ask the very fair question. At least it’s Selena and not Cousin Terry’s wife Hannah who seems to distrust you purely for being the daughter of a politician. Which…is also fair…just not a stereotype that applies to you personally. “I was. For almost a year. I was still seeing him when Marcus and I met, but…” you shrug your shoulders a little, with honesty in the sheepishness. “I fell in love with Marcus so fast, and so deeply. Even if he hadn’t turned out to be my soulmate, I still would have ended things with my ex.”
“I didn’t want to pry, I just hadn’t seen anything about a break up and wanted to know if you were ‘public’ yet.” Selena reassures you. “There’s already been a message in the family chat about not posting while we are here on social media. So we don’t potentially ‘out’ your relationship.”
“It will be out by Easter.” Breathing a sigh of relief isn’t subtle, so you swallow it down and simply tighten your smile into an affirmative. “He’s coming to the Easter Egg Roll at the White House with me. After that, just…try to be conscious of people asking about family photos? If you’ve got ones with Marcus and me in them, we’ll just ask everyone to keep them private. You know, friends only.”
“We are used to that.” She nods and sends you a smile. “We’ve got your back. Don’t worry. No one here is going to judge you. Besides Hannah.” She snorts. “And let’s be honest, she’s a bitch.” Donna chokes out a laugh, quickly smothered, and swats at Selena’s butt from behind you. “Selena!” She scolds, obviously still trying not to laugh.
“Oh.” This time the relief whooshes out of you, but you end up laughing. “So it’s not just me?”
“Hannah is…the least comfortable with the easy, familial closeness of our family.” Donna snorts. “When she first started coming, there was an…accusation.” She hums delicately.
“What could poss—” As soon as your mind spins on it for long enough to actually ask the question, your mouth falls open in horror. “Oh my god! That’s—obviously, obviously I don’t think that. Please know that I have never ever thought that.”
“You don’t think I’m sleeping with Terry?” Selena snorts. “Thank God!”
“No, I definitely do not think you’re sleeping with your first cousin,” you laugh but still shudder.
“Apparently, Hannah doesn’t believe men and women can be friends. Not even relatives.” Selena shrugs. “So if it seems like all the female cousins keep their distance from Terry, it’s not because he’s a pervert. He’s actually amazing. His soulmate is just fucking nuts.”
“Got it.” Even though you flash a thumbs up in acknowledgment, all you can think of is how glad you are that Marcus didn’t stay with Vanessa. She would have hated this for the exact same reason. Probably been Hannah’s only ally.
“Hannah isn’t all bad.” Donna adds, trying to soften it some. “Just….a little…set in her ways. But honestly, this is the only time of year they come. They rarely join other holidays.” She looks over at you. “And pleased don’t think that we expect you to come for every holiday, but we will invite you.”
“We’ll come as often as we can.” You can promise that easily, though you know sometimes he’ll have to work and you’ll have to be at official events with your family. “It…will be easier once my mother is out of office.”
“I understand.” Donna is well aware of the demands of public figures. She had to be seen at a certain number of games and it was her own personal mission to attend the post seasons games any time Matthews’s teams made it. “Just know that we want what is best for you.”
“And that is so much more appreciated than you could know.” Maybe she does. Maybe she understands every bit of it. But because you appreciate the honesty of the words from your soulmate’s mother so much more than you expected to, you leave the phrasing as it is. No stumbling or correcting.
Donna winks at you and links her arm through yours. “You and I are going to be good friends.” She predicts with a happy smile. Marcus is over the moon in love with you and from what she could see, you are much the same. There is nothing more than Donna could ever wish for her baby, to find a smart, loving, good person – and you fit that bill perfectly.
Most of the day is spent in the massive pool down by the bunkhouse, with a little day drinking and a whole lot of horsing around and even a little heckling when some of the cousins got into a competition over best diving form — which quickly degraded into silliest dive. Now it’s sunset, and you’ve thrown a shirt and shorts over your dried out swimsuit for Marcus’s surprise.
“Hey babe.” Marcus finds you again, smiling at the relaxed smile on your face and he hands you a new drink. “You look like you’ve had a good time.”
"Well howdy stranger!" A slight affectation in your voice is just to make him laugh, and you grin when it succeeds. "Where have you been all day? Did you have fun with your Dad?" Matthew Pike had disappeared after breakfast along with his son, and when you had remarked on it to Donna during your walk, she had just said not to worry.
“Of course.” He grins, unable to stop himself as he moves over to caress your neck. “I was taking care of a few things for tonight. Why? Did you miss me?”
"Every second." And you don't care who knows it either. You sit up in your chair and stretch a little more to kiss him, catching the fresh scent of the bodywash he favors as it mixes with his bergamot and musk cologne. He's fresh and clean and it makes you wonder what he's been up to as much as it makes you want to drag him up to his bedroom.
“Good.” He smirks against your lips and offers you his hand as he steps out of your sphere. “Come on.”
"Ooo, is it surprise time?" The look of delight on your face is undisguised as you readily take his hand to pop up from your seat. "I'm all yours."
“Yes you are.” He beams about that fact as he pulls you closer. “Say goodnight to everyone, Birdie.” He hums quietly. “We probably won’t see them again tonight.”
"Good night everybody!" You wave immediately, wrapping your arm around Marcus's waist and barely sparing a backward glance in favor of grinning up at him.
“Damn.” He whistles as he guides you away from the pool and over to the truck. He’s already talked to agent Bailey and cleared things with her, so he just nods as the two of you pass by.
“Damn what?” You pose, laughing a little as you wonder if he’s amused at how quickly you’re ready to leave just about anyone behind to spend time with him.
“I could be a kidnapper and you would just go willingly.” He teases, reaching out and tugging on your ear gently.
“You’d be the best looking kidnapper around and Agent Bailey would have a hell of a time bringing me home,” you tease, hopping into the pickup when he opens the passenger door for you.
“Yep, you have Stockholm Syndrome.” He teases, leaning in to steal one more kiss before he closes the door and hurries around the hood.
Once he’s back in the cab beside you, you flash him a grin. “Belle got a library, I got the softest dom in the whole world and awesome in-laws. I’m okay with it.”
“Softest dom?” He snorts, tilting his head while he tries, and fails to look offended. “I’m a hard dom.” He protests.
"How hard you fuck me when we get going is not what I mean," you clarify, settling into the corner of the seat as he starts to drive the two of you across the compound. "You have the softest heart in the world and I feel very lucky to be the one you've decided to give it to."
“I know.” He promises. “I was teasing. I want you to be happy, healthy and loved. That’s all I want.”
"I am. All three, absolutely." Leaning against his shoulder on the drive, you hum slightly and end up sounding a little sheepish as you look out the window. "I missed you today. Even though we weren't apart too long."
He chuckles slightly and lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles and scrapes his teeth over the delicate skin. “I’ll show you how hard of a dom I am.” He teases. “I’ll put a collar on you.”
Not expected that reaction from him, you make a remarkably incoherent noise of interest and surprise before turning your head to look at him. "Don't tempt me with a good time, Pike."
He had been joking, but the way you react has him pausing. “Is that something you’re interested in?” He keeps the question casual, not wanting to seem like he’s pushing or judging, he’s doing neither.
"I always thought it sounded kind of sexy," you admit, wondering if he was just joking and not serious at all. "I mean it's not like...like something mandatory for me to be happy in a relationship, obviously. If--if you're not into that and at all and you were just joking—"
“Baby.” Marcus squeezes your hand. “Anything you are interested in is something we can talk about. If it’s an absolute no, then I’ll explain why. But I think it sounds kind of sexy too. Collars don’t have to be spiked dog collars where I pull you around on a leash and make you bark.” He snorts.
"A lot of day collars just look like cute little necklaces." Alright, you may or may not have done a little looking into it a few years ago with the guy you were seeing at the time. He was long gone now, but the idea had remained in your head. It was not something Sam would have gone for so it had never been brought up to him.
His brow ticks up, noting your interests and he hums. “They do.” He agrees. “Something sexy about being claimed, isn’t there?”
"Absolutely." He turns left at a pair of apple trees on the western part of the compound and keeps going, while you continue to snuggle next to him like a contented house cat. "I mean...I'm wearing a Pike family nametag. That's about as claimed as it gets."
“Not quite.” Marcus chuckles. “There’s definitely more claiming that can be done.”
"Is that a promise?" You tease, grin growing a little wider when he turns toward a tree line up ahead.
“Absolutely.” He follows the less worn paths through the trees, although it’s obvious from the tire marks through the grass road that someone has been there recently.
"So can I have a hint about where we're going?" This isn't a part of the property that you've been to yet and it's beautifully woodsy in a distinctly Southwestern way that you're finding fantastic.
“You’ll see.” The tree line gives way to clearing and Marcus smiles as the pond comes into view. “Right now.”
The little clearing in the trees is picture perfect. It looks more like a movie set than real life, the tree-lined pond ringed with fairy lights sitting side-by-side with a red and white checked gingham blanket and large picnic basket, and a small cooler to boot. "Baby," you sigh out the endearment excitedly. He knows you love surprises -- your family told him so -- but you weren't expecting anything. That, of course, it was makes surprises so wonderful.
“Now you know what I’ve been doing all day.” He tells you as the truck pulls to a stop close to the picnic sight. “Wanted to make this perfect.”
"It's gorgeous!" You breathe, practically squeaking with excitement as you turn to snuggle into his side as soon as he parks the truck. "Is this your old make out spot? Because if it is? It's an awesome choice."
“Maybe a few times?” Marcus shrugs his shoulders and gives you a boyish grin. “Not too many times.”
"Could make it one more." The exaggerated wink you aim at him makes both of you laugh. "If you wanted to, I mean."
“That was my evil plan.” Marcus admits without any remorse. “Bring you out here, woo you, make out with you.”
"Pretty good plan." Right about now he could undo your seatbelt and haul you into his lap in the truck and you wouldn't protest even for a second. "It's absolutely gorgeous, baby."
“Wanted to give you a special night.” He’s explains, unlatching his seatbelt so he can open the door and walk around to help you out.
“Every night with you is special.” As soon as you’re out of the truck you press in to kiss him, enjoying the lingering warmth of the early evening.
“So you’d rather go have dinner with everyone else than have a romantic picnic by the pond?” Marcus asks, reaching for the door handle. “We can go back…”
“Ohhhhh no.” You shake your head immediately. “We’re staying right here. In our perfect little oasis.”
“I thought you would say that.” Marcus chuckles as he takes your hand to guide you over to the blanket. “I brought wine, but we don’t have to drink anything stronger than lemonade.”
“Wine sounds nice.” You’ve been moderate in your drinking today, having two cups of water for every alcoholic beverage and making sure to eat, so you’re not worried about being too inebriated. “And very romantic, but I don’t ever doubt that from you.”
“Well. I know that it might not be the fanciest, but I wanted to make an effort.” He grins at your praise and both of you sit down on the checkered spread.
“You’re perfect level of fancy for me.” Once you sit down here starts to unpack things, and you fidget slightly on the blanket. “But…Speaking of…of that? I wondered if I could talk to you about an idea that I had.” The actual thought has been rolling around in your head for a while for uncomfortable reasons, but now that it’s Marcus it’s actually a nice thing you don’t mind dreaming about a little.
“Speaking of fancy….” He chuckles. “Alright. I’ll pour out the wine. You pitch me your idea and we will strategize.” He jokes as he opens the top to the wicker basket and produces two, picnic friendly wine glasses and sets them down to retrieve the wine from the cooler.
“Unless you had something else you wanted to talk about?” Maybe that’s what this beautiful picnic is and you’ve usurped the purpose of the night by jumping the gun, you can’t be sure.
“I’m wanting to talk about whatever you want, my love.” He promises as he uses the corkscrew to open the bottle.
“Very accommodating of you.” But that’s Marcus and you know it. Instead you focus on opening up the containers he’s packed away that are holding your dinner. “Do you remember I told you that my mother wants the three of us kids to all do…sort of…family publicity type stuff? Like Junie getting a dog and being willing to be public about it?”
“Yes.” He nods and pours out the wine into each glass. “You didn’t sound terribly enthusiastic about it, although you tried to put on a good front.”
“I’m not terribly enthusiastic about it.” You can admit that, especially to him. “Which is why I’m not sure if this idea is selfish or not.”
“Honey….” Marcus hands you the wine and takes the container with the cheese from you to open. “You are not a politician, you don’t seek the spotlight. Sharing yourself with the public in a way you need isn’t selfish.” He’s pretty much guessed that it has to be some idea about your relationship, and he’s okay with that.
“It’s selfish because it’s something I’m asking you to do with me.” The wine glass is cold in your hand, a soothing and grounding change from the warm day. Although now that the sun’s down it will be cool sooner rather than later. “Because I’m more comfortable and more confident with you beside me in that spotlight.”
“Whatever you need.” Marcus promises. “Undercover work was never exactly fun for me, and I’m out as a UA now that the picture of us dancing was posted in the papers.”
“I feel like I ought to apologize.” The wine he chose is fruity and dry, much more complex than you would but for yourself despite his claim that it’s not fancy.
“No, sweetheart, please don’t.” Marcus shakes his head. “I was aware pictures would be taken. It was my own choice. And I don’t regret it for a second.”
“I didn’t know art crimes required undercover work. Though I suppose it makes perfect sense now that I think about it.” And you’re definitely stalling, but you push it further by assembling a charcuterie bite from the containers around you.
“It’s rare, but I only took the last assignment where I went undercover was because I needed to get away after things ended with Teresa.” He explains.
"Well, you'll have nothing like that reason ever again." The idea of Marcus with a broken heart is too much to stomach, and the coping mechanism of assembling the perfect charcuterie bite for him now pushing the thought out of your mind.
“I know.” It’s freeing to know that you two are very much in the same pages. Despite the fact that being soulmates does guarantee happiness, you and him will do everything to make sure that your story is a good one.
"So...the thing I wanted to talk to you about..." Enough stalling. Time to be an adult. "Is not because I want to push you, or rush you, or anything like that. But...because I keep thinking about it and thinking that getting ahead of the curve is the only way to really control it, and controlling it will be so much less stressful and make half as much work in the long run."
You’re cute when you’re flustered, Marcus leans back on the blanket, completely relaxed as he takes a sip of his wine. “So are we talking televised wedding? Or just pictures?” He asks.
"We are not broadcasting the wedding." That's the point at which you draw the line, you already know that. It's too much. Too invasive even for a family in the public eye. "I was thinking more like...letting photos be released along the way. Like sharing engagement photos, or photos of dresses that I don't pick. Things like that?"
“I’m perfectly fine with that.” It’s an easy agreement, one that has him lifting a brow. “That was all?”
"Even if that includes sharing photos of your bachelor party or sitting down with a reporter yourself?" The fact that he's willing to agree to it so easily is utterly shocking to you, and you feel like you have to do your due diligence and double check. "Or even share part of the proposal?"
“Whatever you feel comfortable with.” Marcus agrees. “It’s like the family days at the parks or when mom and dad would have interviews.”
Sometimes you really do forget that he already has a frame of reference for all of this. That he understands being a family in the spotlight. You take a sip of your wine and build him another bite from the charcuterie containers, offering it to him with a grateful smile. "I love you. Completely. I really hope you know how grateful I am for you."
��Why don’t we plan to have photos released from our engagement, you and I can sit down with a reporter about the expectations of soulmates and politics. There can be a website for all this with links to charities or causes that you want to champion or bring to light?”
"I don't understand how you get even more perfect." When he takes the cracker from your hand you run a finger under his jaw and end up feeling heat in your cheeks all over again. "When we get back I'll talk to Mom and whoever from her team is supposed to be coordinating my media stuff. And..." That same hand of yours squeezes his knee gently. "This is not me trying to rush you into anything. I'm sure we'll get enthusiastic and rush all on our own."
“Us?” He feigns surprise and smirks slightly. “Maybe we will, maybe we will surprise ourselves.” He turns and kisses the palm of your hand. “But I doubt it.”
"I doubt it, too." It's a kiss from his lips that you want most, and lean forward to steal it without shame. "But I love that we're on the same page so easily."
“So after that birthday….um, debacle…” he makes a face. “Are you totally opposed to the idea of a surprise proposal or what?”
"As long as it's you proposing, a surprise is fine." Debacle is the right word, and you roll your eyes slightly. "I actually do love surprises. Mom told you that."
“You might have changed your mind.” The sun is setting and right on cue, the fairy lights that he had spent the majority of the day stringing around the pond come on.
The way you coo at the change in lighting is full of delight, and you lean into his side on the blanket with nothing short of delight on your face. "See this is why I love surprises. For things like this."
“I was hoping you would like it.” Marcus grins as you stare in loving awe of the lights as they play off the water and the sunset.
"You know...the back of the property at the inn has a little pond like this." You lean back against him and enjoy the view around you. "There's nothing around it really, so I haven't thought about putting a garden there or anything. But...it could be in the backyard of our house if we wanted it to."
“I think we could do that.” Marcus smirks and reaches out to touch the rim of his glass against yours. “Our own little escape.”
"And it's far enough back from the inn to soothe your very sweet concern over historically matching buildings." Which you love, but you don't want him to get so hung up on it that he ends up sacrificing another aspect of the house he might truly love.
“You have something else in mind?” He asks, wondering if you want something different for how you raise your children and where you live.
"I don't really know a hell of a lot about architectural styles," you admit. "I just don't want us to miss out on our dream house because we got stuck on making the buildings match. We can set our house back enough that it will have its own space."
“Any house that has you and our family in it is my dream house.” He promises, smiling at you happily.
"I love you, too." In a way that makes you feel like your heart is going to swell right out of your chest, but in the absolute best possible way.
“I know you do.” Marcus murmurs softly, wondering how he got so lucky with you. “I am a lucky man.”
Leaning back lets you kiss him, just a soft thing but tender and full of desire and promise before you pull back and smile at him softly. "I guess we're both lucky, then."
“Oh!” Marcus pulls out his phone, forgetting that he had programmed it and opens it up to the music app to start playing music. “Forgot that part.” He huffs. “Too eager to pour wine.”
You know even on the first song that it's a playlist of love songs. There is nothing more supremely on point for Marcus than a night like this, with all of the magic that he's infused into this beautiful little dinner. "I don't know how, but you keep making it better every second."
“That’s high praise.” He hums, putting together a bite for you and holding it out for you to eat. “I’ve enjoyed having you to spoil.”
“And you’re about the only person in the world I’ll ever let do it.” The admission comes with a laugh, and you place another soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for suggesting this trip, love.”
“I’m glad you got to come.” He admits with a smile as you take the offered bite and groan at the taste. “I know it was hard to take off last minute and I appreciate it. Next time we will have it planned better.”
“It’s less that it’s hard and more that I get very determined about being hands on,” you admit. “Malachi can run that place in his sleep during the day, and my managers are great. I just…always worry.”
“It’s your baby.” Marcus acknowledges easily. “It’s like a case for me. My team is incredibly proficient at their jobs, but if there is a stake out or some kind of op to be run, I like being there.”
“I’m grateful you understand.” Others hadn’t, and so the fact that Marcus is supportive of your need for work as well as your need for a family is very much appreciated. “And Sydney was joking about sending care packages to your stake outs if you wanted them, so I think your team is about to be very happy, too.”
“If she did, she would become an unofficial member of the team.” Marcus snorts. “They wouldn’t be happy with pizza anymore.”
“I’d have even more FBI agents on my doorstep,” you giggle at the image. “There’s already three of you, we’ll need to designate a dining room or something.”
“The Fed Room.” Marcus snorts, grinning at the idea. “It would never be empty.”
“Syd may have thrown a tiny bit of a fit when I told her I don’t want her to cater any of our wedding stuff,” you admit, cringing slightly as Marcus starts to open another round of containers from the picnic basket. “But she’s my best friend and will be my maid of honor. I want her there by my side, not stuck in the kitchen.”
“How about she can cater the engagement party?” Marcus suggests. “That way she’s involved but it’s not taking over her enjoying your wedding day.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about an engagement party.” The compromise makes you turn up your chin to look at him with wide, starry eyes. “It’s perfect. Just like you, love.”
“We have to have a party.” Marcus teases, kissing your nose. “The press can have the story of my proposal and the engagement party. That’s also a good way to keep our actual engagement to ourselves.”
“I’m so fucking glad you’re with me on this.” The honest laugh is stifled but full of relief as you lounge with him in the blanket. “I would never think of any of this and I’d just end up stressed out or going along with whatever anybody else planned to avoid having to think about it.”
“I will fix anything you ever ask me to.” Marcus promises. “But if you ever don’t like something, you never have to worry about me being upset by that.”
“And the same goes for you,” you promise him, with the same measure of seriousness in your eyes and honesty in your voice. “I hope you know that.”
“I know.” He picks up a grape to pop into his mouth. “You and I are very communicative.”
“I feel like I should apologize.” Your voice lowers slightly, the unsureness seeping through it.
“Why?” Marcus frowns slightly, not liking that comment at all. You have nothing to apologize for. He loves that the two of you are talking and planning your lives together.
“Past relationships…have not been as okay with my tendency to talk everything out at length.” It’s not something that you really ever planned on bringing up, since Marcus likes to dream and plan and plot like you do. But maybe it’s good that he knows, since it has slipped out without you meaning to. “I always felt like I was bothering them with it. And ended up apologizing a lot.”
He frowns even more, reaching out after he sets down to his wine glass and pulls you close. “Sweetheart, I want to talk things out. Even if it’s as mundane as brunch locations or if the entryway table should be moved.” He promises. “Please never feel like you should apologize. I want to hear everything you have to say.”
“You might regret saying that when I get going about the logistics of booking rooms for large parties.” It’s a decent attempt at a joke, even if it’s wry, and you lean into Marcus’s comforting warmth with a sigh. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you are as straight forward and wholeheartedly enthusiastic about this entire relationship as I am. It seems surreal but it’s too wonderful to be a dream, so I’m just doing my best to process the whole thing.”
“You process however you need to.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll be right here to reassure you again. You’re my partner, my lover, and my friend.” He murmurs. “The most important person in the universe to me.”
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer
HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
My Masterlist!
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Marcus Pike#Marcus Pike x you#Marcus Pike x reader#Marcus Pike x female reader#Marcus Pike x f!reader#The Mentalist#soulmate au#First Daughter reader#Juan Badillo#Graceland#Juan Badillo x f!OC#Juan Badillo x OC#love triangle
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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One
Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.
Trigger warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sassy Bob, Flirty Bradley, Supernatural elements, Siren calls. I think that's it?
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: Here is chapter one!! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it lol I'm so excited to continue this one. Just a quick reminder to you all that I will be out of town Wednesday-Saturday, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to update as I will be attending a wedding! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also follow me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I will be posting updates as well!
Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List
You crossed the bridge to North Island a few hours later, the sun hanging low in the sky, but not quite to the point of setting. You marveled at the expanse of water that stretched on beneath you as you drove.
“Not sure why the founders wanted to settle way the hell out here,” Bob grumbled beside you. “We’re too small to even have a damn Walmart.”
“Walmart is overrated,” you told him, turning the radio down. “Besides, small towns are so cute!”
“Not when you’re forced to live there every day,” Bob retorted with a roll of his eyes. You rolled your eyes back at him, repositioning Rusty who still sat on your lap.
“You’re too close to it to see all the charm it has to offer.”
“I give it two weeks before you eat those words,” he smirked. You reached over to smack his shoulder lightly, and he looked over at you in mock shock. “Don’t hit the driver!”
“Well, maybe the driver shouldn’t be such a cynic,” you teased, leaning back. Bob chuckled as the car reached the other side of the bay, passing the crowded beaches. “Does North Island get a lot of tourists?”
“Only during the summertime, really,” he replied. “It’s a calm, quiet little town with white beaches and pretty views all over the island. The founders have really played into the local legends over the years, so we have a lot of souvenir shops dedicated to those.”
“What local legends?” you asked him, quirking a brow. Bob flushed, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.
“It’s dumb,” he grumbled, but you were listening intently now.
The two of you drove through the downtown area, people milling about and enjoying the end of the summer day. The dinner crowd was beginning to pick up and you could hear the music blaring from several different buildings.
“No, come on,” you grinned. “You can’t drop that little tidbit and then not tell me.”
“Alright, fine,” he sighed, glancing at you. “For as long as the town has been around, there have been stories of…things in the water.”
“What do you mean? Like a really big fish or something?”
He shifted in his seat, turning down a side road that led away from town.
“I mean,” he hummed, “things like mermaids.”
You laughed at that, and Bob grimaced. “I told you it was dumb,” he muttered.
“No, no,” you giggled. “It’s cute, really. I love mermaids!”
He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t if you grew up surrounded by them.”
“There you go being all cynical again,” you scowled. “I would have killed to live somewhere like this with such fun local legends.”
Bob pulled down a gravel driveway and past a grouping of trees. You saw a grand, white house perched at the edge of the hill overlooking the water. A porch wrapped around both the first and second floor, and you saw a path lead down the hill towards the beach.
“I’m glad one of us is excited to be here,” he chuckled, coming to a stop on the blacktop as you stared at the large house in front of you.
“You live here?” You asked, looking over at him in shock.
Bob had the decency to look sheepish as he turned off the car. “Yeah, this is home.”
At that moment, a small, blonde woman opened the door with a wide grin. She rushed out onto the porch as a burly, spectacled man stepped out behind her. Bob opened his door, and you followed suit. Susan Floyd rushed down the steps and up towards you, wrapping you in a warm hug before turning to give her son a matching one. Richard Floyd gave you a warm smile as he clapped his son on the back.
“You two must be exhausted after that drive,” Susan cooed, ushering you into the house as the two men moved to get your luggage out of the car. You smiled warmly at her and allowed her to lead you into the house.
“I’m not too tired,” you told her as she sat you down in a stool by the island in the kitchen. It was a spacious room, opening up into the dining room. A set of glass doors led out onto the back porch, the ocean sitting front and center in the beautiful view of the beach below.
“That’s good,” she hummed, stirring the pot on the stove. “Are you hungry, sweetie? I made some of my special spaghetti. It’s Bobby’s favorite, you know.”
Bob groaned as he stepped into the kitchen with his father. “Mom, I’ve told you. It’s not Bobby, it’s Bob.”
Susan smiled at the younger man affectionately. “Yes, of course dear. Were you hungry?”
“Starved, actually,” he smiled, plopping down in the seat next to you. Susan began piling noodles and sauce onto two different plates before setting them down in front of the two of you. Bob uttered a thanks before shoveling a healthy fork full into his mouth. You giggled, watching as he ate like he hadn’t eaten in months. You took a much smaller bite than he had, humming at how good the sauce tasted. It had a hint of red wine that pulled out the flavors of the garlic and herbs.
“How’s it taste?” she smiled at you, leaning against the counter.
“Ifs delisus,” Bob said through a mouthful of noodles. She scowled at him before throwing a napkin at him.
“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” she scolded before turning to look at you expectantly. You chuckled before nodding your agreement.
“It’s delicious, Mrs. Floyd.”
“No, none of that,” she scowled. “Call me Susan.”
“Yes, Susan,” you smiled. She smiled at you before turning to clean up the rest of the kitchen. Bob inhaled his first plate of spaghetti, and Susan was quick to load his plate up with more.
“Has Bob told you any of the town’s history yet, y/n?” Richard asked you from his spot at the dining room table. Bob groaned, hiding his face in his hands as you smiled.
“He told me about the mermaid legends,” you grinned. You saw Susan pause out of the corner of your eye as Richard gave you a wry smile.
“I don’t know if I would call them mermaids,” he mused, giving a pointed look at his son who refused to meet his gaze. “But our town has a long, storied history, yes.”
“Oh?” You asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
Richard hummed, leaning back in his chair. “No, mermaid is an insulting term for what these creatures are. They’re fierce hunters, preying these waters with deadly accuracy. Sometimes they even hunt on land.”
“What do you mean?” You frowned. Susan gave him a warning look, but he continued.
“They say these creatures come out of the depths to prey on humans on the land, dragging them into the depths never to be seen again.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Susan snapped at him, Richard giving her an apologetic look. “I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense tonight. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go take out the trash?”
Richard heaved a sigh, standing to obey her. He passed you with a wink, dropping a hand to your shoulder.
“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, y/n,” he smiled, turning to head out the door. Susan sighed, turning to look at you once she heard the door close behind him.
“I’m sorry about him,” she grumbled, shooting a glare at where her husband had just disappeared. “He loves those crazy stories. Don’t even pay him any mind, okay?”
“I don’t mind!” You assured her. “I think it’s all very interesting. The most anyone talks about where I’m from is Bigfoot.”
“As much as I would love to hear you go on your bigfoot theories tirade again,” Bob spoke up, rolling his eyes. “I thought you might want to go out tonight.”
“Bobby, I’m sure she’s tired,” his mother started, but you shook your head, turning excitedly to look at your best friend.
“No, it’s fine!” You chirped. “I think it would be fun to go out and get to see the sites. Where did you have in mind?”
“I was thinkin’ I could take you down to the Hard Deck,” he mused.
Susan rolled her eyes at him. “You want to take her to a bar of all things?”
“Why not? The gang is going to be there tonight, I already texted them to make sure. They’re anxious to meet her.”
Susan seemed to brighten at that. “Oh, you’ll love’em, y/n! They’re such a good group of kids, and I just know they’ll love you too.”
“So we have your blessing then?” Bob joked, earning another scowl.
“Yes, you kids go out and have a good time, but don’t be out too late! I think your father said something about wanting to take the boat out tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He mock saluted, earning a smack to the top of his head this time. You chuckled at the two of them as Bob rubbed the back of his head. He turned to look at you with a scowl at your obvious amusement. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”
The night was warm despite the cool breeze blowing in through the window from the ocean, and you chalked it up to the densely populated bar you now found yourself sitting in. You had followed Bob inside, having to grab his hand in order to keep from getting separated amongst the crowd.
“Bob!”
You turned to see a group of five seated at a large table on the far wall next to the patio. The only woman in the group raised her hand to grab his attention, and Bob eagerly dragged you over to them.
“Hey, college boy,” grinned a tanned man with long, curly hair that was slicked back. “How’s it hangin’?”
“More importantly,” said the dark-skinned man across from him, looking at you, “who’s your friend?”
“Guys, this is y/n, my best friend from Duke,” he gestured to you with a grin. “Y/n, this is Mickey, Reuben, Natasha, Javy, and Bradley.”
Each of them waved to you at the mention of their name, and you waved back with a small smile. The mustached one, Bradley, grinned up at you before shuffling over on the bench.
“Ain’t no need to be shy, sunshine,” he winked at you, gesturing to the now open seat next to him. “We’re all friends here.”
You sat down slowly next to him, Bob scooting onto the bench across from you and next to Natasha.
“So, y/n,” she smiled, leaning forward with intrigue clear in her eyes, “where you from?”
“Oh, I’m from Missouri,” you smiled at her.
“Missouri?” Mickey snorted, earning a ribbing from Javy. You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Yeah, it’s not glamorous or anything, but it’s home,” you explained.
Reuben leaned around Bradley to look at you. “So you were in the same major as Bob, right? How did you even get into that?”
“Oh, I’ve always had a fascination with the sea, I guess. Felt like I might have been a mermaid in another life,” you joked, and the group chuckled, earning a look from Bob as you looked around uncertainly. “Did I say something funny?”
“Nah, sunshine,” Bradley grinned. “It’s just cute is all. Imagine you being a little mermaid.”
“In fairness, I was five,” you blushed, and he reached down to pinch your cheek gently.
“Don’t go gettin’ shy on us again,” he drawled. Javy rolled his eyes, taking a sip from the glass of beer in front of him.
“You’re almost putting Jake to shame right now,” he chuckled, causing Mickey and Reuben to both snort. Bob looked around the bar, brow furrowing.
“Speaking of, where is he?” He asked the rest of the group. Bradley let out a low chuckle, resting his arm behind you as Natasha rolled her eyes at the name.
“Mandy has been especially clingy, as of late,” Reuben frowned, peering towards the bar with a pointed look. Bob turned, frowning at what he saw. “Been dropping hints left and right for weeks. She barely leaves his side.”
“Well, yeah,” Bradley scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle. “I’m not surprised since it’s almost time for-”
Natasha cleared her throat, giving a pointed glance to you.
“Almost time for what?” you asked, looking around at the table. No one said a thing, giving small glares at Bradley who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and looked down at you, an easy smile spreading across his face.
“I just noticed that you don’t have a drink, sunshine,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me to the bar, and I’ll get you something?”
You gave one last look around the table before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. I could use a drink.”
You stood, Bradley close behind you, and you looked over at Bob. “You’re usual?”
“Please,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You returned it softly, following Bradley up to the bar.
“Bradley,” hummed the older woman behind the bar, green eyes narrowing in on him as she saw you next to him.
“Penny,” he smirked, leaning against the counter. She walked over to the two of you, placing a hand on her hip as she frowned at him.
“What can I get you?” She asked him.
“Two beers and?” He turned to you, eyebrow raised.
“A jack and coke, please,” you smiled at her. She returned the gesture warmly, moving to make your drink.
“You best be careful around this one, honey,” she drawled, eyeing the man next to you. “He has a habit of goin’ around breaking hearts.”
“Penny, you wound me,” Bradley cried in mock hurt, gaping mouth quickly turning into another grin. He shot you a wink. “I would never do that to sunshine here.”
Penny snorted, handing him two beers and you your glass. “Right. You’re no better than Seresin over here.”
She jerked her head to the other side of the bar. You followed her gaze, seeing a blond man turn at the sound of his name. He glanced over to where Penny was looking at you and Bradley leaning up against the bar. He had an easy smirk on his face that rivaled Bradley’s, and when he turned his green eyes to you, you swear your heart stopped beating for a moment. His eyes were like sea glass, a frosty, almost moss colored green. It was like the world faded to black around you as you looked at him. You felt something that you could only describe as a tether snapping into place as his eyes bore into yours. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn his eyes started glowing as he continued to stare into the very depths of your soul.
“Y/n?”
Your eyes snapped to the side where Bradley was watching you worriedly. You shook the silly thoughts from your head. “I’m sorry, what?”
Bradley chuckled down at you, a hint of worry still tugging at his lips.
“I was just asking if you were ready to head back to the others?”
“Oh,” you trailed off, glancing back at the stranger across the bar. He was still staring at you, face unreadable. The brunette standing next to him looked very put out as he continued to ignore her.
“Jake!” She hissed at him, gripping his jaw and turning his face to look at her. “Are you listening to me?”
Jake looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Huh?”
“You are so dense sometimes,” she snapped, dropping her hand back to her side. The stranger, Jake, glanced back over at you, and the brunette followed his line of sight, scowling when she saw you. Bradley let out a low whistle before nudging you with his elbow playfully.
“Would sure hate to be him right about now,” he joked, an exaggerated grimace making you giggle. “Mandy is no joke when she’s pissed.”
“Jake!” Mandy shrieked. You chanced another look across the bar. Mandy looked like she was about to blow a fuse as she stared daggers between you and the man at her side. Said man was now frowning, eyes darting between you and Bradley. “I’m talking to you!”
“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley said with a roll of his eyes at the couple across the bar. “If we stay any longer, I might lose my hearing.”
You followed him back to the table silently, still feeling the heavy weight of two green eyes on your back.
You slept with the window open that night, eager to feel the sea air on your skin as you slept. Your curtains billowed lightly as the moonlight poured into your room. You tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. Your bed wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact, so you weren’t sure what had woken you up. You glanced at your phone, the numbers on the screen showing that it was far too early in the morning to still be awake. You huffed out a sigh, listening to the waves as they crashed against the shore below. That was when you heard it.
You weren’t sure what it was at first, it was so unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a low hum that slowly turned into a lamentful cry amongst the breaking waves. You tossed your blankets back, quickly getting up and padding over to the window. The cry turned into what you could only describe as a song, not too dissimilar to one a whale would make, but this sounded almost…human? You peered out the window, heart racing as you continued to listen to the strange song. You felt a yearning unlike any other crescendo inside of you, calling to you from a distance almost like it wasn’t even your own. Your mind began to feel heavy, hazy with what, you weren’t sure. The song continued, calling to you, begging you to follow. Your eyes grew lidded, skin warm as you felt the call seep into your skin, drowning everything out but the inherent need to obey. You turned, taking a step towards your door.
A dog began to bark, causing you to jump and the song to stop. Shaking the cloudiness from your mind, you looked out the window once again. You caught sight of what you could only describe as a fish’s tail, silver scales gleaming in the moonlight, rising up before disappearing back beneath the waves.
#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x you#top gun hangman#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#hangman top gun#hangman x reader#hangman seresin#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin imagine#siren au#mermaid au#mermaid!siren!jake#meet me at the sea#mmats
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can you please do a james potter x reader where reader is always patching james up from quidditch injuries and comforting him in the hospital wing and stuff but roles are reversed when he's trying to teach you quidditch and reader gets a minor injury (sprained ankle or something). cue overprotective jamie & platonic marauders fluff<3
oh! darling
james potter x reader
type: fluff
word count: 2.4k
summary: after years of you taking care of james, it was finally his turn.
warnings: reader has sprained ankle, references to slightly worse injuries
notes: i am so incredibly sorry this took so long i don’t even have an excuse
marauders masterlist
✩ ✩ ✩
You were never all that big a fan of flying. Being on a broom just never felt sturdy to you and you weren’t all that crazy about heights either. It wasn’t exactly that you were afraid per say, you just chose to avoid them when possible.
With a boyfriend like James Potter, you knew it would one day no longer be avoidable.
James, while on one hand being the most responsible, smart, and caring person you knew, was also the clumsiest.
You lost count on the number of times you’d had to walk him from the Quidditch Pitch to the infirmary for an injury. Sometimes he sustained them at a practice, a game- hell, sometimes he would just be flying around for fun and manage to throw himself from his broom. It became such a common occurrence, you now had your own little pharmacy under the sink in your dorm so you could fix some of his minor injuries up there. Then of course there were his more major injuries- like the time he broke his foot when it was smashed between the stadium wall and a bludger or when he got a concussion when he and Sirius slammed into each other when messing around. During those times, you’d sit with him in the hospital wing and keep him company. You were always sure to spend your free periods with him, catch him up on school work, bring him food- anything he needed.
To be honest, as much as you hated him getting hurt, you treasured some of those moments in the hospital wing when it was just the two of you being together.
When you woke up on that Saturday morning to James no longer next to you in his bed, you were confused. You’d both agreed the day before that neither of you wanted to go to Hogsmeade that weekend and you knew James didn’t have any Quidditch practice. You rolled out of his bed, finding one of his sweaters in his trunk and throwing it on. You made your way to the mostly empty common room- most people were already at breakfast so they could eat before leaving for Hogsmeade- and found Lily buried in her books at a corner table.
“Hey, Lils,” you said, sliding into a seat across from her.
“Hey,” she said, her eyes not looking up from the page of the herbology textbook she was reading. You leaned awkwardly back in your seat, not exactly wanting to disturb her, but not knowing what to do with yourself when you didn’t know where any of your other friends were and you were feeling just a bit too lazy to look.
“Sorry,” she said, finally looking up at you and sitting back. “I haven’t had time to study recently- I’m hoping to catch up today while everyone’s at Hogsmeade.”
“No- no, you’re fine, I can leave if you want,” you said quickly. “Have you seen James?”
“Him and Sirius walked out of here an hour ago looking for Marlene and Dorcas and I haven’t seen them sense,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They seemed overly excited, per usual. I think they were up to something.”
“God, maybe I don’t want to look for him anymore,” you said, laughing through a yawn.
Your wish was granted- not exactly in the way you wanted- as the porthole swung open as James and Sirius marched in with their hands full. It took you a minute to see what they were holding- Sirius was holding a large box that you quickly recognized as a chest that held all the different Quidditch balls and James was holding three brooms. Three.
“Oh, darling, you’re up,” he said, gently setting down the brooms next to you and kissing your head. “We were gonna come up and get you.” He wrapped his arms around your neck from behind you and rested his head on your shoulder. You made weary eye contact with Lily at the sight of the brooms. You hummed.
“What’re the brooms for?” you asked, recognizing only one of them as his. He chuckled in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.
“Quidditch, darling, what else?” he said, pecking your cheek after. He was always affectionate, but you could tell he was getting ready to question you about something.
“Oh,” you said, turning your head to see Sirius running up the stairs to the dorm.
“Me and Pads were thinking-“ well that’s never good- “that maybe you would come out to the pitch with us today and fly around a bit?” Your eyes went wide.
“James, I- you know I hate flying,” you said, turning to look at him. He loosened his arms to allow you to move.
“I know! I know, but I was thinking if me and Pads were there to help you out, you might feel better,” he said, massaging your shoulder. “I thought it could be fun.” You looked to Lily for help but she gave you a good luck look and quickly buried herself back into her books. “Please, love?”
“Fine.”
“Come on, darling!” James yelled from above you. “You’re gonna do great!” You resisted the urge to flip him off at his well-meaning encouragement.
You’d flown before, of course- it was a class after all. So you knew what you were doing, you just didn’t want to be doing it.
“Oh, the things I do for you,” you muttered under your breath as you began levitating off the ground. It took you a moment to get used to the sensation before you floated up to the level James and Sirius were at. Your hands were gripping the broom so hard your knuckles were white. It was less of you being scared of the broom and more not trusting yourself to be able to adequately operate it.
“You’re doing great,” James said, flying up next to you with a quaffle tucked under his arm. He reached out his free hand to take yours but you shook your head.
“I’m sorry, but no,” you said, cracking a smile and staring at his hand. He chuckled, reaching over and patting your shoulder- the act making you squeak at the feeling of being slightly unbalanced.
“Sorry!” he said quickly, laughing at how the blood had rushed to your face. “You’re alright, darling, you’re not gonna fall.” You let out a huff. “I won’t let you fall, how about that?” You smiled at him. “Alright, c’mon.” He motioned for you to follow him and you did, heading over to where Sirius was flying in circles.
“Finally!” he groaned, stopping as you two approached. “I don’t know why you’re so worried, Y/N. You were good at it in first year when we had to take the class.”
“I never liked it,” you said, pointing and flexing your feet to get used to the feeling of them not touching the ground. “But I can do it.”
“Okay, okay, finally ready to play?” Sirius asked, motioning for James to throw him the quaffle.
They explained the game. It was basically modified Quidditch so that it could be played with one ball and three people. It was decided that you would be goalkeeper first- which you were grateful for. The rules were James and Sirius were both trying to score on you, but when they intercepted the ball, they had to go back to the center. James used a charm to create foggy lines of smoke in the air where the centerline was because “Sirius is a big cheater so we need to be able to see.”
It was fun, actually. You surprised yourself with how quickly you picked up the skills you’d thought you’d forgotten. You were able to hold your own in the goal, blocking almost all their shots- even after they stopped going easy on you.
“You’re letting him win!” Sirius groaned after James scored for the third time. “This isn’t fair! You’re biased.” You rolled your eyes.
“You should know me well enough to know I’d help James lose before I’d help him win,” you said.
“Hey! I can hear you!” James yelled from farther back, tossing the ball to Sirius.
“Yeah, yeah, just get going,” you said, flying lazily around one of the goal posts. You were still moving pretty slow, the fear of falling still not totally dissipating, but you could keep up with them so far.
The games soon started again, Sirius being extra as ever and doing small spins around the stadium as James tried to chase him around. When Sirius took a shot, James raced in before you could catch it and dashed back to the centerline.
“Show off,” you muttered sarcastically as he whipped past you and sent you a goofy grin. You couldn’t help but smile at him.
You got somewhat bored when their back and forth went on just a little too long, and found yourself staring mindlessly around you. The wind was whipping your hair around your head and you were somewhat dreading what it would look like when you-
“Y/N!”
You didn’t have time to react before something hard collided with your head. You were exactly sure what was happening, but you felt everything spin and the wind picked up. You couldn’t figure out if you were dizzy or falling. When you felt your broom slip out from under you, you decided it was probably both. The simple realization you were falling from so high was enough to make your stomach start doing somersaults faster than the rest of your body was.
James immediately went into a nose dive the second he saw you slip. He was already dashing over to you before you fell- seeing the path of the ball that had left his hands seconds before. Sirius was behind him, shouting an incantation you couldn’t hear between the blood rushing to your ears and the air passing you. You slowed suddenly, the spell Sirius had cast finally taking effect, but not soon enough.
You crumpled to the ground, letting out a gasp.
“Y/N!” James yelled, stumbling off his broom and rushing towards you. “Y/N, hey, hey,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your face was pinched with pain as you gripped your ankle.
“I’m- I’m alright,” you said, shakily, your eyes still closed. You tried to move but let out a pained gasp when you moved your leg.
“Oh, Y/N,” he said, cupping your face. You opened your eyes to see the fear and worry contorting his face as he looked at you. Seeing him fuss over you almost felt worse than your foot. “Don’t move,” he said, carefully tucking his arms under you and pulling you up so he could carry you. You tried not to grimace as your ankle flopped around from the jerkiness of the lift.
“I’m fine, James,” you said, the grip you had on his shoulder betraying your words.
“Just hold still, yeah?” he said, his worry for you evident on the crease between his brows. “I’ll get you up to the infirmary.”
Sirius was quick to run after the two of you, holding all three brooms under his arm.
“Alright, Y/N?” he asked as he walked in step with James.
“Yep,” you said, grimacing as James bounced you around a little too hard.
“Sorry- sorry,” he said, doing his best to hold you as still as possible as he started walking up the hill towards the castle. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright, James, it’s not your fault,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.
There was silence
“So, you reckon I’ll get an offer from Puddlemore next year?”
Sirius snorted.
“Oh, definitely, but they’ll be fighting offers from the Cannons and Harpies, too,” Sirius said. “But Puddlemore will give you the best offer, so you should play for them.”
“Maybe I'll just go wherever James gets an offer for,” you said as you all stepped inside the castle.
“Poor lad won’t get nearly as many as you,” Sirius said, shaking his head.
James chuckled hesitantly as you arrived at the infirmary, clearly trying to avoid the guilt gnawing at his stomach.
Madam Pomfrey was quick to usher you to a bed with a quick “Why is it always you lot?” and a wave of her wand.
James sat you down and was quick to grab your hand as you adjusted yourself on the bed. He sat on the edge of the hard wooden chair next to your bed. His hands cupped yours as his eyes glared daggers into your ankle.
“I should… I'll go put the brooms away,” Sirius said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. You nodded and he was out of there in the next moment.
“Jamie,” you said. He wasn’t looking at you. “James,” you said again, squeezing his hand. His eyes finally met yours, and you couldn’t find the words to describe the look of hurt on his face. “I’m alright.”
“I know,” he said shakily, a breathy chuckle coming from his mouth. “I know.”
“And it’s not your fault,” you said. He looks away from you again.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, the pain clear on his face even as he faced away from you. If there’s one thing that hurts James Potter more than seeing his loved ones in pain, it’s being the one that caused the pain.
“If I accept your apology will you stop moping?”
James laughed, his head ducking down and eyes crinkling at the sides. He brought your hand up to his lips, resting them on your knuckles before peppering kisses all over your hand.
“I truly don’t deserve you,” he said, smiling softly at you.
“Don’t go all soft on me now just because I’m injured,” you groaned as he moved to peck your cheek a few times.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Madam Pomfrey huffed, dropping a basket of potions at the foot of your bed. James quickly pulled away from you, the two of you blushing fiercely. “Should be an easy fix,” she said, suddenly back to her normal motherly persona. “Should be able to get you back on your feet in no time.”
“See, James, all alright,” you said, smiling as you squeezed his hand.
#james potter#james potter x you#james potter fanfiction#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x reader#james potter fluff#james potter hurt/comfort#sirius black x reader#sirius black x platonic!reader#the marauders#marauders fic#marauders era#marauders x reader#marauders fanfiction#marauders masterlist#janie writes ‧₊˚✩彡
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it’s okay, be shy || e.m.
request || i'd love to see a fluff drabble of eddie flirting with a gender neutral senior in high school who was often left out of things and just generally considering a ghost towards social life but eddie would probably coax them out and be so so nice and caring, just..... he seems like the protective bf especially towards social situations.
pairing || eddie munson x gn!reader
author’s note || ok so for some reason it wouldn’t show up in tags so i’ve decided to repost!! sorry guys :(
warnings || shy!reader, social akwardness, protective!eddie, fluff
masterlist
“I’m sorry. What the shit did you just say, Mike?”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the kid, who was now realizing he had fucked up. His eyes were wide as he tried to backtrack—hands up in defense.
“Well, y-you know, because–”
He clicked his tongue, “because what, Wheeler?”
He looked at his lap, not daring to stare back into the eyes of the metalhead before him. Eddie’s eyes were blown wide, chest heaving up and down.
You were shy. Super, shy. You hid around in the shadows, hoping that no one would notice you. You were well-reserved and avoided crowds at all costs. Eddie Munson, on the other hand, was quite the opposite—running around the cafeteria as people glared at him and screaming his affirmations into the night sky. He was the opposite of shy.
Eddie was one of the only people that had gotten you out of your shell, so sometimes even attending a Hellfire club meeting took a lot out of you. Of course, Eddie was quite protective over you. If anyone picked on you, laughed at you, even looked in your direction, oh, they were so dead. Six feet under the ground, dead.
“You talk about them like that again, and I’ll shove my fist down your throat, you got it?” Mike nodded frantically, mumbling an apology.
“Don’t apologize to me! Apologize to them!” He pointed at you, who sat in the chair next to him, eyes wide at Eddie’s reaction to Mike making fun of you for not going to Eddie’s gigs.
“Eds, it’s okay. He was just joking.”
He just huffed. No one makes fun of his baby. Well, except him. Teasing you was a fun activity but only reserved for him.
“I’ll go, okay? I didn’t want to miss it, anyway.” Eddie inwardly cringed, a bubbling irritation at Mike for making you think that he was bummed you weren’t going to their gig on Saturday. Sure, he wanted you there every time, but he understood that it was nerve-wracking for you.
He never wanted to make you feel that way. Never.
He rubbed his hand back and forth on your thigh. He was leaning forward on his chair, hair falling against his face. “You don’t have to go, baby, I know there will be a lot of people.”
“But-”
He shook his head, pressing his lips against your temple. His honey brown eyes drew you in, staring so lovingly at you that it made your heart flutter. “I’m not bothered by it at all, okay? Your comfortableness is way more important than one gig, sweetheart.”
You pouted, looking down at your hands, “I want to support you, though.” He could tell that your timidness was making you frustrated. You wanted to be on the front row cheering him on as he shredded his guitar, not sitting at home while watching Back to the Future for the fortieth time.
He held your cheeks into his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Sweet baby, you’re my biggest supporter ever. I know you love me and how metal I am.” You giggled, a smile finally making its way to your face.
“There’s that adorable smile. You can come if you want, but I don’t want you to unless you’re absolutely sure.” He paused, smile widening. “Look, I’ll have Jonathan film everything, okay? That way, you can still see it.”
You nodded at the compromise as he swiftly pulled you into his lap. He started pressing sweet little kisses all over your face that made you both erupt with laughter.
Mike grimaced, “ew, you guys are gross.”
Dustin slapped his shoulder, “Hey, those are my parents you’re talking about.”
Lucas groaned, “that’s even worse!”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things fluff#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb#stranger things 4#request
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so for the prompt thingy... i have several and you can pick any, all, or none of them! 1. Steve and Eddie getting one over Murray when he's being all you two are pining ect. 2. Uncle Wayne - anything where Wayne accepts Steve immediately and tries to get him and Eddie married. 3. Werewolf den mother steve being seduced to be eddie's mate 4. Hopper as Steve's father figure accepting Eddie immediately because he isn't a wheeler.
I have so many cause i have ideas but can't write for crap... So thank you for being so open about writing! It's really nice to know it isn't a bother to ask...
THIS WAS SO EXCITING!!!! I did end up combining 1 and 4 into one. Also, I didn't IGNORE 3, but I got another request that is somewhat related and I think I am going to work on this when I work on that, but I didn't want you to wait longer for these other ones. I hope you love these! - Mickala ❤️
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PROMPT 1 AND 4
Murray clocked Eddie within literal seconds. That wasn’t surprising according to everyone who dealt with him before.
What was surprising was that he didn’t immediately call him out. Maybe he actually respected that some people’s secrets should stay secrets.
Or maybe he was just waiting until he figured Steve out, too.
Which apparently happened on a random Saturday at the Byers’ home.
But the thing is. The thing is that Eddie had clocked Steve within seconds, too.
So when the dust settled after Vecna, and Steve pulled Eddie from Hell, and he finally got his true love’s kiss (according to Robin), it took them about six hours before they were making out in Eddie’s hospital bed and calling each other boyfriends.
But only a handful of people were in on it, mostly to protect themselves, but also because they liked just having this for them. Too much of their lives had been out of their control, and they liked being able to have control over this one thing.
Until Murray.
They weren’t even next to each other when it happened.
Steve was helping Hopper at the grill, even though he’d been hopelessly terrible at grilling anytime he attempted it at pool parties with the kids. Eddie was pretty sure it was just to spend time with Hopper.
Eddie was with Will and Lucas, planning out a campaign that Will would DM for all of them, not even looking at Steve.
Okay, maybe he kept glancing over there occasionally, but that was just to make sure that he wasn’t catching anything on fire.
But they were always careful around everyone, and the fleeting glances he gave weren’t abnormal for him. He would do a visual checklist in his mind anytime they were all together, keeping count of everyone in his head the way Steve often did if they were all out somewhere.
“So you’re in love with Steve.”
Eddie jumped at Murray’s voice. He hadn’t even realized he was here.
Will and Lucas were staring, though Will didn’t look surprised at all. If Dustin blabbed…
“Don’t worry, nobody said anything.”
“Uh.”
“And I won’t say anything to anyone else.”
“O…kay?”
“Especially not Steve.”
Wait.
Murray didn’t know they were together, he just thought Eddie was pining.
Oh, this would be fun.
Eddie fought off a smirk, choosing to appear more worried.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Will, somehow, seemed to catch on to everything at once. Maybe his suspicions about Will were right, or maybe Will had just learned to be perceptive about things like this. Either way, he was hoping Will would play along.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Murray said with an annoying hand wave. “I don’t care about you being gay. I’ve had plenty of relations with men in my day.”
Gross, but okay. At least there’s that.
“The problem here is that Steve is so very straight.”
Oh my God, Murray was so wrong.
He shoved down the glee he felt at knowing Murray was wrong about two things.
“And so obviously still in love with Nancy. Poor guy doesn’t know how to call it quits on something that was never good for him. Gotta hand it to him, when he falls, he’s committed.”
Well, some of that was true, but he wouldn’t give Murray the excitement of being right about that.
“How long have you had these feelings? Oh wait, let me guess.” Murray pretended to think for a moment before he smirked. “Since high school when he was the King of the school and you were nobody just trying to survive your second senior year.”
It was longer than that, but he wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction from this conversation.
“You know, Steve would be fine with you coming out to him. I’m sure he’d even play wingman for you if you ask nicely.”
The plan forming in Eddie’s head was going to be so fun.
“You’re right. He’s changed a lot since high school and we’re friends now. I should tell him.”
Will’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening.
“The sooner the better. Keeping these secrets is mentally exhausting. I keep a lot of secrets for people.”
Hard to believe considering most of what came out of Murray’s mouth was something about someone else that they probably wouldn’t want other people to know.
“I’ll go tell him now.”
Eddie got up, ignoring Murray’s protests about this being a family function and isn’t responsible for if things go south.
“Hey Steve, can we talk for a second?” Eddie said loud enough for Murray to hear from across the yard.
Steve was busy flipping a burger as Hopper watched closely.
“Uh, sure. Everything okay?”
“I need you to go along with this,” he whispered. “Today’s the day.”
“Today? Right now?”
“If you’re okay with it.”
They’d discussed it recently; Coming out was something they had to do eventually, especially with how often they were almost caught kissing in the kitchen or holding hands during movie night.
As nice as it was having this for themselves, they knew they had to say something before everyone caught on and felt blindsided by it. Just having Dustin and Max knowing was a risk.
Plus, they wanted to be able to hold hands over the blanket for movie nights, not under.
“Okay.”
Hopper was watching them suspiciously, not interrupting, but clearly wanting to.
“What did you wanna talk about?”
“So you know how everyone thinks I’m into men?”
“I’ve heard the rumors.”
Steve was so good at going along with Eddie’s dramatics. God, he loved him so much.
“They aren’t just rumors. I do like men. Actually, I’ve only ever liked one girl and I was 11, so I think it’s fair to say my judgment could have been off.”
Steve smiled fondly at him, holding back a laugh as he remembered that story from the one time Eddie went to summer camp.
“So I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I also like men.”
“Oh?”
Eddie looked at Murray out of the corner of his eye, smirking at the way he was muttering to himself, disbelief written across his features.
“Yeah, one man in particular.”
“Have I met him? Is he hot?”
“You have and he’s known for fishing for compliments. He knows he’s hot,” Steve raised his eyebrow at him as he turned to take the burgers off the grill and put them on a plate Hopper was wordlessly handing him.
“Excuse me for wanting to hear it out loud in front of all our family and friends.”
“Wait! You’re…are you…you can’t be…together?!”
Murray was outraged and Eddie couldn’t help the snort he let out as he wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
Steve blushed, like he always did when Eddie showed him affection, but kept putting burgers on the plate.
Hopper was suddenly right in front of Eddie, eyes squinting at him, calculating.
“How long have you been with Steve?”
“Uh. Since March.”
“You’re boyfriends?”
“Yes, sir.”
Eddie never called Hopper sir. Not once in his entire drug dealing and getting away with it career, not once since he came back after Vecna.
But Steve had gotten really close to him when he came back, so he did respect him. And he knew that his opinion mattered to Steve.
“I think I owe you a little conversation then.”
Steve held up the spatula, pointing it between them.
“You two behave. I’m a grown man, Hop. I don’t need you to do what I think you’re gonna do.”
“Yeah, but you’re my kid, and this is what I do for all my kids.”
Steve dropped the spatula.
Eddie’s eyes widened.
He tried to send a silent message to everyone to give them a moment, maybe find something to keep their eyes and ears busy while Steve and Hopper talked for a minute, but everyone’s eyes remained on them.
Hopper sighed.
“Look, your parents suck. That’s not a secret to anyone here, especially not you or me.” Eddie tried not to let his mind wrap around how Hopper seemed to know more details than he did about Steve’s parents. “You’ve never had someone to watch out for you like a parent should. But you’ve got me now. And if I wanna give Eddie a bit of a shovel talk, you’re gonna let me. He’s better than a Wheeler.”
“Hey!” Mike yelled from where he was sitting between El and Dustin on the porch.
“Can it, Michael!” Hopper yelled back at him. “So Eddie and I are just gonna have a quick chat inside. You know how to do the hot dogs on your own.”
“Uh.”
Hopper pulled Eddie away from Steve, guiding him back up the porch steps, passing Murray’s befuddled face.
They went into the house, keeping a good distance between them.
Eddie had never been this nervous before, not even when he had to talk to a judge about living with Wayne or when the government officials took his Upside Down statement.
“So.”
“So,” Eddie responded, clasping his hands in front of him and playing with his rings nervously.
“You and Steve? Really?”
“I-”
“No, I’m talking,” Hopper held his hand up to stop Eddie from trying to explain. “You know about Steve’s parents?”
“A little. Enough, probably.”
“It’s not my thing to share, but I will say I’ve been looking out for Steve for a lot longer than he even realizes. I’ve seen how he handles hurt. I don’t wanna see it ever again. Especially not because of some metalhead who took three years to get through his senior year. You got me?”
“Yes sir.”
“Does Wayne know?”
“What?” Eddie was still trying to parse through the first part of what Hopper said to him.
“Does Wayne know about you and Steve?”
“Yeah, he kind of walked in on a situation that left no room for hiding.”
Hopper nodded once in understanding. No further details needed on that one.
“You boys let me know if anyone out there gives you trouble, okay?”
“Okay.”
They stared at each other in silence.
“You love him?”
“More than anything.”
Hopper gave him a sincere smile. A real smile from Hopper. He got an actual smile!
“Good. You both deserve to have something good with each other.”
Eddie wasn’t going to cry. Not now, now in front of Hopper, not when he had to go back out to their little get together.
Hopper’s hand rested on his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
“I know everything about you. Just remember that if you ever think about hurting him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hopper left through the backdoor, yelling at Murray to stop mumbling to himself because he was scaring the kids. He looked out the window to see Joyce and Max hovering near Steve at the grill and he smiled to himself.
Steve was so loved by all these people, and he was so loved by all these people. It probably didn’t matter if they were obvious, if anyone knew about them from the start, if Murray was right or wrong.
The people who mattered were just happy that they were happy and he couldn’t ask for more than that.
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PROMPT 2
“Why the hell are you cleaning the shower? Is that bleach?” Wayne scrunched his nose at the overwhelming smell of bleach coming from their shared bathroom.
“I’m having a guest over.”
“And they plan on showering here?” Wayne smiled amusedly at Eddie’s frantic scrubbing.
“It’s Steve.”
Ah. It all made sense now.
Wayne took a sip from his mug, his black coffee lukewarm from sitting on the counter for a bit too long.
“So he’s showering here? Is there somethin’ wrong with his showers?”
“It’s just in case,” Eddie huffed, finally pausing to look over at Wayne in the doorway.
“In case he spills the entire kitchen on his head?”
“Can’t I just clean the bathroom? When’s the last time we cleaned this thing?”
“Probably the last time I made you clean it as punishment for something.”
“When’s the last time you punished me for something?”
“It’s about to be now with that tone,” Wayne said as he raised his brows.
He’d never seen Eddie quite like this, not even the one time he brought a girl home for dinner. He knew he’d been kind of in love with Steve from a distance for a while, and when everything happened in March, they’d gotten close, but he didn’t realize how close.
“Sorry. I just want things to go okay.”
“Is there a reason they won’t? You spend an awful lot of time with that boy already.”
“I just don’t want him to think we’re trash, ya know? Like, we kinda are, but I don’t want him to see it.”
Wayne didn’t like that Eddie referred to himself as trash, never had. Sure, they were broke, and he was usually too busy working and trying to get some sleep to deep clean the house, and he didn’t really have nice stuff, but they had what they needed and they were safe.
“Has he ever said or done anything to make you think you’re trash? If he has, he ain’t welcome here.”
Eddie sighed.
“No, he’s been really nice.”
“So you’re worryin’ for you, then. Didn’t I tell ya to stop doin’ that?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Open the window in here, air it out. Gonna kill the boy with the smell of bleach,” Wayne said as he walked back to his chair.
His days off were few and far between, even after they got their trailer fixed up and paid off for free and Eddie’s medical bills suspiciously disappeared. He spent most of them watching TV or fixing something, but now that he knew Steve was coming, he wanted to cook dinner.
Maybe he wanted to impress him to keep him around for Eddie.
Maybe he just wanted an excuse to cook something.
But it was barely past lunch, and he wanted to relax a bit before Eddie was so high strung from stress that he couldn’t breathe.
He watched his TV, but he listened to Eddie grumbling from his room, the occasionally clatter or bump making him laugh to himself at how much effort Eddie was putting in.
“You alright?” He asked after a particularly loud bump against the wall.
“Yep!”
Wayne checked the clock and saw it was close enough to the time he needed to start making dinner.
“Eddie? How’s pork chops and mashed potatoes sound?”
“Good!”
Something falls in Eddie’s room, but Wayne just shakes his head and goes to the kitchen to start prepping everything.
His pork chops were Eddie’s favorite for years, probably because they usually only had them on special occasions or if Wayne was able to go in a little late to have dinner with him. Anytime he had his friends over, Wayne would try to make them.
And now he could make them for Steve.
Steve had been over a lot when Eddie first got out of the hospital, helping make sure he had everything he needed while Wayne was at work, making sure he was being left alone by the idiots in town.
He stopped coming by as much after a while, but anytime Eddie came in the door, he’d been with Steve. He was visiting Steve at work, or at Steve’s house, or with Steve and the kids at the arcade or the diner, or with Steve at the quarry.
Wayne wasn’t stupid.
He knew Eddie was in love with the boy.
He just didn’t know for sure if Steve loved him back.
But he’d find out tonight one way or another, even if he had to outright ask.
He got lost in the cooking, barely noticing Eddie walking in and out with dirty dishes and trash from his bedroom.
But then he heard a loud knock on the front door and Eddie’s footsteps racing to open it, and Wayne Munson almost had a heart attack.
Eddie was wearing plain blue jeans, the sneakers he got just for graduation, and a button down shirt. A nice button down shirt.
“You look nice.”
“Shut up. It’s just what I had clean.”
“Right. Sure.”
Wayne smirked down at the pan in front of him, flipping the pork chops over and drizzling more of the melted butter sauce over them as they seared.
He pretended not to listen to the exchange at the door as Eddie let Steve in, but couldn’t help it when he caught Steve planting a kiss on Eddie’s cheek.
“Hope you like pork chops. Wayne’s real good at making them.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. You look nice.”
“Oh uh, thanks. You do also. I mean, too. You look nice too.”
Wayne had never heard Eddie like this, he’d definitely never seen him like this, and he had to figure out what the hell made Steve so special that Eddie suddenly became a different person.
He turned to welcome him and was met by a Steve Harrington he almost didn’t recognize.
He seemed shy for some reason, as if he hadn’t been by Wayne’s side for hours at a time in the hospital waiting for any change with Eddie. He was dressed in similar jeans to Eddie, but was wearing a Metallica shirt that definitely belonged to Eddie.
He was also wearing Eddie’s guitar pick necklace.
So this was serious.
“Well, hey there, Steve. Nice to see you here again.”
Steve was blushing.
“Thanks for having me, Mr. Munson.”
“Steve, we agreed you can call me Wayne last year, didn’t we?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry, sir.”
“It’s okay, son,” Wayne laughed. “Dinner will be ready in a few if you boys wanna grab drinks and plates.”
They did, and Wayne watched out of the corner of his eye as Eddie placed a hand on Steve’s lower back and kissed his shoulder.
They were silently getting things out, but moving in a way that made Wayne smile.
They revolved around each other the way soulmates do, naturally being close enough to touch but not, always anticipating where the other person will be and what they’ll need, happy just to orbit each other.
Wayne watched as Eddie smiled at Steve, who was sticking his tongue out at him while he reached for the cans of soda in the fridge.
He’d never seen him so light, so happy, so content. Especially not since everything that happened with the quake.
He grabbed the plates from Eddie and served them each a hearty portion of food.
“This looks great, Wayne. Thanks for cooking.”
“No need to be so formal, Steve. I like cookin’ for you boys.”
They took a few bites in a slightly awkward silence. Eddie’s leg was shaking so badly, the whole table started moving. What the hell was this kid so nervous about?
Steve placed his hand on Eddie’s knee, probably thinking it was out of sight. Wayne watched as Eddie stopped his movements and settled completely, letting out a long breath.
“So what’s the occasion? Not that I ain’t happy to have ya over, Steve, it just seems outta nowhere.”
“We uh, actually wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh?”
Wayne knew where this was going, but he liked to keep Eddie guessing.
“Yeah. So you know how I’ve been spending a lot of time with Steve.”
“Go on.”
“Well, a few months ago, um. I told him about me. Like how I’m into men and women. And it turns out he is too! So that was a relief obviously. And we talked about how nice it was having someone else know and then he explained he’d never even kissed a guy which is just kind of silly because look at him! He’s hot! And I told him he could kiss me to get it out of the way, ya know? Because sometimes just getting the first one out of the way just makes you more confident and then he kissed me to shut me up because I was rambling like I am now, Jesus Christ, Steve, please stop me.”
“Okay, so what he’s trying to say is um. We’ve been boyfriends for a while now. And I’m.” Steve took a shaky breath, then put his hand in Eddie’s on his lap. “I’m so in love with him, Wayne. He’s been spending a lot of time at my house, but I wanted to come here and he was worried about us not being able to hide it around you so I told him we could just tell you. I hope it’s okay.”
Wayne kept his face level, no smile or frown, just waiting to see if they’d word vomit anymore.
“And like, it’s okay if you don’t want to see any PDA or anything! We won’t like make out on the couch or anything, but we just wanted you to know. I wanted you to know. And Steve knows you’re so important to me so he agreed.”
“And we’ll probably still spend a lot of time at Steve’s because that’s where the kids like to hang out since he has a pool and a lot of space for us to watch movies. So you’ll hardly even see us together here.”
“Are you boys done?”
“Yes, sir,” Steve said, head hanging down.
“Good. Who knew you both could ramble on like that?”
They stayed silent, anxiously waiting for Wayne to yell at them or kick them out.
“You love each other?”
They both nodded.
“And you make each other happy?”
They nodded with smiles growing on their faces.
“Then I want you boys here, loving each other, making each other happy, whether I’m here or not. You’re always welcome in my home.”
He felt the relief wash over them, their tense bodies relaxing in their chairs.
“Now, Steve.”
“Oh no. Don’t,” Eddie said, suddenly tense again.
“Now, wait a minute. It’s my job, Eddie.”
“No it’s really not. I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.”
Wayne turned to Steve with a small smile.
“You’ve heard the speech before, I’m sure. You hurt him, I hurt you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, if you hurt him on purpose, they’ll never find your body, you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you,” Wayne turned to Eddie. “Same goes for you. You think just because you’re my blood I won’t protect Steve if you do somethin’ stupid?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now that that’s settled.” Wayne took a sip of his drink. “Steve, you like ice cream?”
“I love ice cream.”
“What’s your favorite flavor? I always keep Eddie’s in the freezer.”
“Oh. You don’t have to do that.”
“Stevie, you better answer him or he’ll guess.”
Steve laughed. He looked happy. Wayne liked that he looked happy.
“Mint chip.”
“We all have our flaws.”
“Hey! It’s good!”
Wayne laughed.
“Fine, fine. I’ll get some at the store this weekend.”
Wayne knew what it was like to have neglectful parents, and he knew that Steve may have had a lot of things handed to him, but never love and affection from his own parents.
So if he was someone Eddie loved, and who loved Eddie, then he was going to have to accept the love and affection Wayne had to offer.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#wayne munson#murray bauman#jim hopper#requests#this is like a 3 in 2 but 2 in 1#shovel talks but barely#prompt 2 is EXACTLY 2000 words which has never happened before for me#ficlets
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Chapter 3: Listen to Your Heart
John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)
Series Masterlist
A/N: I'm so glad y'all are enjoying the series!! Thank you so much for reading!! Us Callum girlies sure got some...cough cough...quality content in episode four, that's for sure! Let me know what you think, and go read the other half of the story using the link below!!! this wonderful gif is by @zsuo!
Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd
Word Count: 4.7k
August 3rd, 1943
Ruthie,
Since Saturday night, you have rarely left my mind. I replay the dance in my head, trying to commit every detail to memory. I love being around you, Ruth. I couldn’t imagine the night going any better than it did, and I’m so glad that you stepped outside of your comfort zone to come with me. Curt’s been giving me a hard time about embarrassing you when I sang, but I told him you loved it, even if I sound like a “dying animal” in Buck’s words.
Speaking of Buck, I’ve decided to never let him live down Saturday’s condom incident with Hope. Hugh sure isn’t letting it go, so I can’t help but join in on the fun. Despite that, I think he had a great time with her, even though he’s a total stick in the mud. I can’t believe they didn’t dance, Ruthie! Our dance was my favorite part of the night, besides how we said goodnight, of course.
I would really like to see you again soon, Ruth. It’s no secret that I’m taken with you, and I think you feel the same. We’re spending the next few weeks replacing crews and forts, so we won’t be too busy. If you’re able, please stop by and pay me a visit. At the sight of your sweet, kind smile, and the feeling of your hand in mine, my worries seem to disappear.
The only worry left in my mind is that my efforts to convert you to a Yankees fan won’t be successful. I hold onto the hope that you’ll see that the Braves are terrible and that the Yankees are the better team. The Braves went 11 and 18 this past month, and my amazing team went 21 and 11. You can’t argue against stats, slugger.
I hope this won’t affect your feelings toward me because then we might have a problem. I can’t wait to see you again soon. Please stay safe up there for me.
Your Hotshot,
Johnny Egan
August 6th, 1943
Dear John,
I am happy to hear that you and the boys are finally getting a break. When we were at the dance, I knew y’all were exhausted, but you sure didn’t show it, Major. You danced and sang like there was no tomorrow, and I had more fun than I had in a long while in your arms. Don’t worry about what Curt or Buck said. I loved your singing, even if it was slightly off-key and very loud. You might have embarrassed me, but seeing you in your element was worth it.
Every time I think back to that night, my heart begins to race and I can’t help but smile at the thought of you. I’m so very grateful that you decided to bring me along. Somehow you manage to turn me into a giddy, blushing teenager every time you cross my mind. Our kiss is a cherished memory of mine, and forgive me for being forward, but I hope that we can make more of such memories in the future.
Hope had an amazing time with Gale at the dance, and apparently, he wasn’t as much of a “stick in the mud” as you think. I’m sworn to secrecy, but know that they are very fond of each other already. When we got back to Grove the day after the dance, we told Frank what happened with…the incident, and he thought it was hilarious! He even said that he “did his job well,” whatever that means.
I would love nothing more than to come see you, but sadly, I don’t know when I’ll be able. Casualties from Italy are getting worse with the invasion of Sicily underway, and we’ve been on runs almost every day since we got back from the dance. Regardless of this, the first chance we get, Hope and I will make our way up to Thorpe Abbotts.
I can’t wait to see you again, Johnny, but the blatant slander against the Braves might damage your chances of getting another kiss. We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this because I promise you I am not going to be converted. After all, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right?
Don’t hurt yourself falling off your bike during your break.
Yours,
Ruth Morgan
P.S. I would like to meet Meatball the next time I visit the base!
Sunday, August 8th, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich
The mess hall buzzed with energy as Buck and Johnny sat at breakfast with Curt, who slowly moved his powdered eggs around on his plate with his fork.
“I can’t eat this shit anymore,” he groaned, pushing the plate away from him.
John took a slow sip of his “coffee,” raising an eyebrow at the man. “Then don’t eat it.”
“Oh wow,” Biddick quipped. “What a great idea, Bucky. I’d never thought of that.”
The major smirked behind his mug and shot his friend a wink. Buck watched on in amusement, used to the two going back and forth as he and John did.
Leaning his elbows on the table, Curt leaned over the table toward John with a teasing glare. “Have you heard anything from Ruthie? Has she mentioned me? I thought I made a good first impression the other night.”
“Hmm,” Johnny hummed, pursing his lips for a moment before pointing at Biddick. “That’s Nurse Morgan to you, you dodo. I’m surprised you even remember anything from the dance with how drunk you were.”
“Oh I couldn’t forget a face like that,” he chuckled.
John’s eyes narrowed playfully as he clasped his hands together and leaned on the table. “Well it’s a good thing for me that she could forget yours, then,” he clapped back. “And you’re not the one she kissed goodnight.”
Buck rolled his eyes and continued to eat his breakfast as Egan’s loud, wide-mouthed cackle echoed through the mostly quiet mess hall. Curt then turned to Gale with a raised brow. “How about Hope-”
“Nope,” Buck interrupted calmly, raising his cup and taking a sip of his steaming coffee.
The other two men watched him as a tiny grin formed on the Major’s lips. Although he didn’t talk about it much, they could tell Buck had already developed deep feelings for the woman.
Raising his eyebrows at Curt, John grinned. “Oh boy.”
“You’ve got it bad, Buck,” Biddick laughed, his hand landing on Gale’s shoulder roughly. “You gotten a reply to your letter yet?”
Thinking of the perfectly folded letter from Ruth he’d picked up that morning sitting in his breast pocket, John smiled down at his food, warmth spreading through him at the thought of the blonde. Buck, however, pursed his lips and shook his head at the question.
“I actually haven’t written her yet,” he sighed, running a hand down his face. “I want-”
“What!?” Johnny all but yelled, his eyes widening as coffee almost spewed from his mouth. “Why the hell not, Buck? I already sent one to Ruth and got a response.”
Gale groaned and put down his fork with a clink. “Because of Hugh.”
“Why are you so worried about Charlie?” Curtis asked, wearing a confused expression.
“Because he’s in my squadron. And he’s her brother.”
John pointed and leaned over the table at him. “Hope’s a big girl, Buck. She can make her own decisions. Screw what Hugh says.”
“But-” Gale started but was once again cut off by Bucky.
“He’s gonna hate you even more if he thinks you're leading her on. You not sending Hope a letter isn’t making anything better,” he said, a smirk beginning to tug at his lips as he continued. “On top of the condom situation.”
John and Curt busted out into chuckles as Buck just groaned, closing his eyes tightly. “Oh, please don’t remind me.”
The ideal chatter was disturbed by the door to the mess hall swinging back on its hinges with a crash, followed by heavy footfall as Hugh all but stormed through the building like a tornado. He snatched a mug off a table and poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee before marching past the trio, staring daggers at Gale who looked up worriedly from his breakfast.
Curt’s eyes followed the man as he walked in, muttering under his breath, “Speak of the devil.”
"Good morning to you, too, Sparky," John called out with a small wave as he walked by, only to be met with deafening silence from the other pilot.
Hugh's harsh glare was burning a hole in the back of Gale’s skull and he thought any second now he’d come into his brain and it would be lights out.
“You’ve really pissed him off this time, Buck, and you didn’t even get his sister into bed,” John laughed heartily, taking a long swig from his whiskey and coffee, it was most likely more whiskey than coffee but Gale humored him.
“Will you give it a rest? I’m already getting it from Hugh without your added input,” Gale stabbed aggressively at his scrambled eggs, willing the eyes of the room to stop looking at him.
Curt snorted beside him, waving his fork around. “Well, I’m telling you boys, if I’d have had Hope in my arms and she’d bought condoms with her, let’s just say she wouldn’t have been going back home with them.”
That was the final straw.
Gale slammed his fist down on the table, ignoring the way Johnny jumped in his seat, spilling his coffee over the table, and the way several chunks of his scrambled egg disappeared onto the floor.
“You say anymore slander about my girl, Biddick and I swear…”
“Your girl, Buck?” John raised his right eyebrow, an amused smirk on his lips as his mustache twitched. “She’s your girl and you haven’t even written her yet?”
Sometimes Gale wished he could rip that stupid mustache off John’s face, but he kept his cool.
It would seem that Hugh had heard the whole commotion. His chair screeching back from the table, he stomped up between the tables once more, his glare never leaving Gale until the door slammed shut behind him.
Buck groaned, unsure if it was in relief or at the impending doom that he was likely to suffer if this debacle continued. Without a second thought, he excused himself from the table, ignoring the calls of protest from John and Curt, and hurried after Hugh.
“Hugh! Hugh, wait up. Please, I want to talk to you,” Gale jogged after the tall brunette whose face turned sour the instant he noticed him.
The door quickly closed behind him, and Curt looked at the major across from him with a guilty expression. “I was just joking, Bucky. I would never-”
“Ahh don’t worry about it,” John said as he sipped on his coffee. “He knows that. Like you said, Buck’s got it bad and this thing with Hugh has been eating at him since Saturday.”
Biddick nodded to himself, his eyes lingering on the door. “Do you think Hugh’ll let it go?”
“For Buck’s sake, I do…I think he will. Doesn’t mean I won’t still rag Buck about it, though.”
“Yeah,” Curt mumbled, staring down at his plate.
Neither man spoke for a few moments, each lost in their thoughts until Bucky wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood up. “I’ve got a letter to write. See you later, Curt.”
“I never thought I’d live to see the day,” Biddick replied. “Bucky Egan writing a love letter. Looks like Buck isn’t the only one who’s got it bad.”
John tugged his white-fleece jacket back into place and chuckled at his friend. “Don’t go all soft on me.”
“I think it suits you, John. Really,” he urged, a soft smile on his lips. “You seem happier.”
Staring at him for a moment, Bucky didn’t quite know how to respond. He felt happier. He had something to look forward to other than getting drunk at the bar or the adrenaline rush he got when the sound of .50 cal brownings echoed through his fort. John placed his cap back on his head, and with a curt nod, turned toward the door.
His tie suddenly became too tight around his throat as he pushed through the doors into the cool English air, and he quickly loosened it, letting it hang limply as he took a deep breath. In that moment, John Egan had a profound realization.
Since he came over to England in May, he had been simply going through the motions, replaying the same days over and over: Wake up…Fly forts…Bomb targets…Get drunk…Show a woman a good time…then start the cycle again the next day. For someone with such a passionate personality, he lacked the feeling that he so deeply desired. Curt could vouch for this, being the one to knock some feeling back into him a few months back on the wing of Mugwump.
But since that day in July when the nurses landed on their small base in East Anglia, feeling had slowly been creeping back into his life. He first felt it when Ruth caught him staring, and was soon captivated by her dimpled smile and capable personality. The numbness that had become so familiar to him faded into the background when she was near, her laughter shaking free his heart a little more each time it left her lips.
He was alive with Ruth. More alive than he felt when ME-109s whizzed past him or when flack shook his fort. More alive than when he unbuttoned a woman’s dress and laid her down. More alive than the burning sensation that traveled down his throat when he downed another shot at the bar.
Over the past few weeks, the blonde nurse had somehow burrowed into his jaded exterior and broken down the walls he didn’t even know existed.
John’s mind reeled as he silently mounted his bike and rode to the base HQ. The ride passed in a blur, and before he knew it, he was sitting at his desk, staring down at the blank sheet of paper before him. He hadn’t had a problem writing her before, so why was this any different?
How was he supposed to convey such profound feelings in a letter?
He started simply, letting his mind imagine her there beside him.
“Dear Ruth.”
Thursday, August 12, 1943: Termini Imerese, Sicily, Italy
“You ready girls!” Frank called over his shoulder, glancing as Hope and Ruth took the stretcher from the medics below them and loaded the last wounded soldier onto the rack. Hope pulled out her flight manifest and checked off the final patient to board. The young boy reached out, grasping her hand.
“Nurse,” his voice cracking as he tried to grab her attention. He was so young, barely eighteen years old. His bright blue eyes, glossy and hazy, gazed up at her.
“Yes, My Love,” Hope crouched down, clasping the boy's hand in one of hers while her other brushed away his brunette locks from his face. She tried to stop her eyes from drifting down his body to where only stumps of his legs remained, the burnt flesh wrapped neatly in crisp bandages.
“You’re an angel,” he whispered and Hope smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his hand. “When I write home, I’m gonna tell my Momma ‘bout you.”
A single tear trickled down her cheek and she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and watching until he drifted off to sleep. His delicate, young features were no longer etched with worry, and the hard lines across his forehead softened as the morphine began to take effect.
Hope turned, watching as Ruth comforted one of the other young men further down the plane who had managed to remove some of his bandages.
“Hey, don’t do that, you need those,” Ruth tutted quietly, helping the Private sit up a little so she could secure fresh, white bandages around his bloody arm. The poor boy grumbled under his breath as Ruth tucked in the end. “Now leave ‘em be, okay?”
The young boy nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his cot. They weren’t the most comfortable racks, just cool metal bars lining the hammock-like beds that swayed as the C-47 rocked through the sky.
Hope took her seat beside Ruth, who had finished trying to redress the soldier's wounds, smiling briefly at her friend, who wore the same exhausted expression she did.
“I can’t wait to get back to the Grove. I need a warm bath and my bed,” Ruth mumbled, stretching out her aching muscles that screamed against the tension in her body.
“Oh don’t say that, Rue. We’ve still got to drop these poor boys off at the hospital in Mateur.” Ruth just groaned in response.
The dance with the boys had been their last outing in a while. It was the last time Hope hadn’t felt completely exhausted. She’d been relaxed, able to let go, and safe in Gale’s arms.
This trip had been hard. The plane was at full capacity and when they arrived on the airfield at Termini Imerese, Sicily, they were instantly thrown into action. The girls disappeared into the makeshift hospitals that lined the airfield, the white tents flapping in the harsh wind that did little to cool the heat from the scorching midday sun.
Hope and Ruth conferred with the surgeons, assessing and stabilizing patients that were safe to fly, meaning that many of the young men with head injuries or who had suffered significant blood loss would be unable to fly due to the unpressurized aircraft cabins. Many of the men didn’t have emergency medical tags, so the girls had to make their own assessments for many of the patients.
The thrumming roar of the C-47’s engine erupting to life always brought a great sense of comfort to Hope, along with an impending sense of fear in unison. This job, while rejuvenating her youth through the exhilarating flights and the lives they saved, aged her with each passing moment spent in the air, because after every successful landing she was left with the feeling that although they had saved lives, they couldn’t save them all. This weighed heavily on both of the women.
Frank and his fellow pilot chatted hastily in the cockpit, their muffled voices cracking through over the radio. As soon as the plane leveled out Hope and Ruth stood, each taking a side of the plane and beginning the checkups on their patients, recording their temperature, pulse, and respiration as well as checking there was no strike through of blood from their dressings. The girls worked quickly, only conferring on their patients' conditions.
It always amazed Hope how quickly their work changed them, on the flight over Ruth had been once again telling her about the letter she’d received from John. Hope feared she could probably quote Ruth’s letter herself by now, but she never complained, pleased that Ruth was finally coming out of herself.
Hope had her own letter from Gale tucked into her top overall pocket, over her heart. His words burned into her flesh and she felt as though he was right there beside her all along.
Having dropped off the soldiers at the large US hospital in Mateur, Tunisia, the C-47 headed home. The mood was somber as the large metal bird rattled its way across Europe towards England.
Ruth’s eyes had closed about half an hour before, and Hope didn’t have the heart to wake her up. She looked so peaceful, the wrinkles that normally appeared when she smiled were smoothed away, and her blonde locks fell softly from where she had so lovingly pinned them that very morning.
Hope took Gale’s letter out of her pocket, smoothing out the creases that had poked around the edge of the page. Words of affirmation sprung out at her and a smile was instantly cemented to her lips as she relieved the last moments with him.
The flight home always seemed quicker, and soon ‘The Angel of Death’ was touching down on the runway. Hope helped a rather sleepy Ruth off the plane and waved goodnight to Frank, who chuckled in amusement at the blonde’s incoherent murmurs, some of them sounding an awful lot like the name of her beloved major.
“Goodnight Ladies.”
“Come on, Rue. Let’s get you home,” Hope wrapped her arm around her sleepy friend, leading the way to the Nissan huts they were billeted in.
Some of the other nurses were still stationed in Africa and so they currently had the hut to themselves. Hope lay Ruth down on the bed, smiling as she snuggled closer into the pillow.
So much for a warm bath…
Hope would rag her about it later, but she couldn’t deny that the stress of the day was getting to her too, but something restless kept her from falling into her own bed. Instead, Hope sat at the small desk in the corner, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. She pulled Gale’s crumpled letter from her pocket, smoothed it flat onto the desk, and began writing her reply.
The following day, the girls finally had a day off, and as much as they wanted to make the trip up to Thorpe Abbotts, the nurses were so exhausted that they barely got out of bed.
“What time is it?” Ruth groaned, turning onto her side to hide from the bright sun peeking through the curtains.
Getting no response, she cracked her eyes open, and a smile tugged at her lips at the sight before her. In the corner of the room, Hope’s cheek lay smushed against the desktop, her messy black hair splayed around her as she slept soundly. The corner of a paper could just barely be seen under her hair, and Ruth immediately knew what she’d fallen asleep doing.
Sighing softly, she pulled back her covers and padded over to Hope, wincing at the sting of her feet against the cold floors. “Hope,” Ruth whispered, rubbing the woman’s shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
She awoke slowly, allowing the blonde to sit her up off the desk. “Five more minutes,” Hope mumbled.
Ruth chuckled, the sound echoing through the silent hut. Luckily, Hope’s bed was directly beside the desk, so the smaller woman didn’t have to maneuver her around too much to get her onto the mattress.
Gently laying her extra blanket over her best friend, Ruth smiled down at her. “There you go. Snug as a bug.”
She then walked over to her bed and snuggled under the covers again, but not before closing their blackout curtains, causing darkness to envelop the room once again. The warmth drew her back into her peaceful slumber, her eyes fluttering closed as her mind repeated Johnny’s latest letter:
Sunday, August 8th, 1943
Dear Ruth,
I can’t wait to see you again. I know I said that in my last letter, but I’ve recently discovered that absence actually does make the heart grow fonder. I find myself waiting in anticipation for your letters the moment I send off my own, and I long to see you…to have you here next to me.
Hopefully, your missions will ease soon and you’ll finally get a break, too. I understand how tiring it can be to fly day after day, and that’s without even having to take care of patients. Please take care of yourself, alright? As much as I would love to see you, please rest if you get the chance. Don’t worry about me. We’ll see each other soon enough.
Today Buck finally wrote Hope back. I tried to tell him how stupid it was to wait, but he was adamant about getting Hugh’s approval. He’s a bigger man than I am, Ruth. Regardless of this, we can never let him live the incident down…ever.
In response to your threat to withhold your affection from me, I say bring it on. Like I said before, you can’t argue with facts. The Yankees are the better team, and I’m going to convince you of that, so I cannot agree to disagree. I’m too stubborn to let you win, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know if you’ll be able to resist my charming personality…or the mustache. I know you love the mustache, Ruth.
If you decide to follow through on your threat, I’ll shave it off. Just for you. Don’t stand between a man and kisses from his girl. It doesn’t end well for anyone. But it’s like you said, a little friendly rivalry never hurt anyone, right?
Please be safe, Ruthie, and know I am thinking of you.
Yours,
John Egan
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Hope! Ruth! You alive in there?” a voice hollered through the hut’s door, rousing Ruth for the second time that morning. She opened her mouth to reply, but Hope beat her to it.
“Go away, Frank!” she groaned, covering her ears with her pillow.
“It’s almost noon,” the man chuckled. “I know you’re tired but you both need to get up. We’ve got stuff to do.”
Sitting up abruptly, Ruth grabbed her watch off her small side table, her eyes widening when she read 11:43 am. She looked over to Hope who was also staring at her watch in utter disbelief.
“I haven’t slept in this much since I was a teenager,” Hope muttered under her breath before turning to Ruth, almost breaking into a fit of laughter at the blonde’s wonky curls from the day before. “We look terrible.”
Frank pounded his fist against the door, yelling, “Get up!”
“WE ARE!!” They both hollered back, unable to keep the frustration from lacing their voices.
Throwing off her covers, Hope stood to her feet and marched over to the door, swinging it open. Ruth clamored quickly out of bed to follow her, stopping right behind her shoulder as they glared at Frank. His eyes scanned the women before him, and a grimace appeared on his face at their ragged appearances.
“Okay,” he started, raising his hands in surrender. “Go back to sleep. You look like shit, and I’d rather do things on the plane by myself than deal with your grumpy attitudes.”
They narrowed their eyes at him. “Nope. We’re awake now,” Hope retorted, smiling sweetly at him.
Sighing, Frank stepped back from the door with a barely concealed smirk. “Meet me at the hardstand.”
As Hope shut the door, Ruth flopped back on her bed, her eyes following Hope’s figure walking across the room to the desk in the corner. “How’s Gale?” she asked, propping her head up with her hand.
Hope began to neatly fold up the letter, smiling softly as she talked over her shoulder. “He’s good. Said he didn’t write because of Hugh causing problems, but he’s got his blessing now.” She turned toward Ruth with dusty pink cheeks, giggling to herself. “He even signed his last letter with ‘your Gale.’”
“Hope!” Ruth squealed, sitting up and covering her mouth with her hands. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve someone like Gale, and I’m sure Hugh sees how much he adores you.”
Hope looked down at the letter in her hands, her heart swelling at the thought of the man. “He’s amazing,” she whispered as her eyes traced over his name on the paper. After a few moments, she shook her head, seemingly clearing her thoughts, and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “How’s John?”
It was now Ruth’s turn to blush, the tips of her ears heating up at the mention of the major. “Great…amazing…wonderful. I feel like I’ve known him so much longer than a few weeks, Hope. You know how I can get sometimes, but when I’m with him, I don’t feel nearly as anxious. And when he kissed me…I wished it could’ve lasted forever. I can’t wait to see him again.”
Sighing softly, Hope plopped down onto her bed. “Look at us, Rue. We’re like a bunch of lovesick teenagers.”
“Yeah, we are,” Ruth giggled, her mind replaying her and John’s laughter, soft touches, and tender looks from the dance. The way he held her face so delicately, how his lips-
“Come on,” Hope called, her mattress squeaking as she got up, breaking Ruth from her thoughts. “Let’s get ready so we can go annoy Frank.”
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#masters of the air#hbo war#john egan#callum turner#gale cleven#austin butler#major buck cleven#gale buck cleven#major john egan#major john egan x oc#johnny egan#john egan x oc#major john bucky egan x oc#major john bucky egan#bucky egan#bucky egan x oc#buck cleven#johnny egan x oc#masters of the air fanfic#masters of the air fanfiction#mota fic#mota fanfic#john egan fanfiction#buck cleven x oc#hope armstrong#ruth morgan#the skytrain girls#hurt/comfort#hbowar x oc#hbowar fic
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Hey gal, I hope you’re having a happy Tuesday! 🥳If you have the time and you’re taking requests, please could I get your take on Javi x fem.
She finds out she’s having a baby a couple of weeks before a huge raid and actively tries everything to avoid Javi. During the raid she gets cornered by one of Pablo’s guys and absolutely terrified screams “I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant” Javi and Steve hear over the radio, his head frantically snaps up and he takes off running to find her, Steve not far behind + the aftermath. Thank you 🥹
Javier Peña x f/Reader
Main Masterlist ♡ TV Shows Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous TV Shows Masterlist ♡ Pedro Pascal Masterlist
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
I do not speak Spanish nor I am going to try to. I have no urge to try and butcher another language. So Spanish will be in ITALICS.
Gifs & photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @pedrorascal 2nd gif @hunterschafer 3rd @nicolethered
Warnings: Swearing
WC: 2273
And a happy Saturday to you! I am sorry this has taken me so long to get out. I really hope you like it. This is my first time writing for Javier so I hope I do well. 💜
Summary: f/Reader & Javier have been sleeping together. At first, it started as stress relief from their jobs at the DEA, but f/Reader ends up pregnant & keeps it from him. Javier finds out during the worst possible time.
YN'S POV:
I have never been more thankful than I am right now to be one of the few women working in the DEA. I get to have the washroom all to myself as I am throwing up the very small breakfast I had.
I threw that up a few hours ago, at this point I have no idea what the hell I am throwing up.
I cleaned my face up and popped a piece of gum into my mouth, hoping that it will do the job of getting rid of my puke breath.
"You okay YN?" Steve asked me as I sat down at my desk, which was beside his.
"Yeah, I am good. I think I just had one too many last night." I told him as I lied through my teeth. He just smiled and shook his head at me, muttering "You never could handle your alcohol."
While Steve was making fun of me for being a lightweight, Javier was looking at me over the top of his newspaper.
I didn't bother to look at him. Not when it was just only a few days ago that he had me once again crying out his name as he used his sexual talents to bring me so much damn pleasure that I had no idea could happen before I met him.
He knows with one nod of his head, I would be meeting him in the washroom that the other DEA members refuse to use for some reason.
But only after a few hours of going through boring paperwork, I felt the urge to throw up again. Since this is the fourth time today, I knew I had to get looked at.
I decided to head out early and told my boss that I had to leave due to not feeling well. At first, he didn't want me to leave and refused, but I told him the next time I had to puke, I would make sure to do it all over his expensive shoes.
He let me go after that.
I got in my car and headed home when I was stopped at a red light. As I sat in my car, waiting for the light to change, a pregnant woman walked by.
It suddenly dawned on me.
My period is late. Extremely late.
The random puking happening at all hours.
Certain smells making me nauseous.
Oh, fuck me.
I'm pregnant.
A horn from the car behind me startled me. I noticed the light was green and I floored it. I had to find the nearest clinic and get proof.
It took me a bit to find one, but when I did, I felt like I was in a daze as I filled out the form.
That feeling never went away as I sat there, or when my name finally got called.
I did the test and told the Doctor my symptoms. I got sent home as they had to wait a couple of days to get the test results.
I was told to come back on Tuesday and I will find out then. I knew deep down inside I didn't have to wait until Tuesday to know whether I am or not.
I called out of work saying I came down with some stomach bug and that I will be back in a few days. I waited patiently at my place. Kept myself occupied with TV, catching up on some much-needed sleep and reading.
Then Tuesday finally rolled around and I made my way to the Clinic. I had my hands placed on my lap to stop myself from fidgeting.
"YN LN?"
I stood up and followed the nurse to the room. I waited in the warm room to find out if I was pregnant.
"YN?"
"Yes, Doctor."
"We have your results and you are pregnant. I would say you are about 6, 7 weeks along."
His voice faded into the background as this became all too real. I am pregnant with Javier Peña's baby.
The same man who doesn't want a relationship with anyone and who has announced more times than I can count that he doesn't want kids.
How the hell did this even happen? We always used protection.
Then it dawned on me, we didn't have anything twice and he swore to pull out, but the one night when we both had a bit too much to drink, he didn't pull out in time.
I left the clinic and went home, trying to decide what I should do. I already knew I couldn't give up this baby, but my dilemma was how I should tell Javier.
What the hell am I supposed to do?
Javier Peña's POV:
Three weeks.
Three fuckin' weeks since I have talked to YN. First, she went off sick due to some stomach bug and she was gone less than a week.
She came back and she was normal with Steve. Talking and catching up on what she has missed.
But me?
I say her name and she turns the other way or talks to someone else. She is ignoring my calls and when I have shown up at her place to try and talk to her, she doesn't answer the door.
What the hell did I do to her?
This has been eating away at me and has been pissing me off so much that I have taken it out on anyone who got in my way.
"What the hell crawled up your ass Javier?" Steve said as I slammed my mug down.
"None of your concern," I grumbled.
"Something is going on between YN and you. I have seen it these last couple of weeks. Work it out before we head out to this raid or get your head out of your ass."
I was going to say something smart when he walked away from me towards the debriefing room.
I took a few deep breaths and just tried to focus all my energy on this raid.
But then I saw YN out of the corner of my eye and she was talking with one of the new guys. I haven't learned his name because frankly, I didn't care to know it.
But I can see how he is flirting with her and I can feel myself getting angry. He placed his hand on her hand, which was sitting on the table in front of them.
But the anger slowly faded away when I saw her look down at his hand on top of hers, she smiled softly and moved her hand away.
"We are all here? Good, now listen."
I turned my attention towards the briefing, trying to take in the layout of the building we will be going into. How many men will be there, etc, etc.
~
Usually, YN would come with Murph and me, but not this time. I have no idea who she went with and it is making me sick to my stomach.
Even before started to sleep together, I always made sure to keep an eye on YN during our raids. I was drawn to her from the very beginning and I pushed my feelings aside for her and we became friends with benefits.
I haven't been with anyone else since we started and these last few weeks, not waking up beside her. Not spending our alone time together has been driving me crazy.
"You able to talk to her?"
"Nope." That was all he got out of me. I mean I tried, but she just pretended she didn't hear me.
We waited for our cue to go inside and I saw YN as she was running to get into position, also waiting for the cue.
We were all silent and then we got the go-ahead. There were shots fired and smoke in the air. There was so much commotion and noise that I could hardly focus on anyone else.
That was until I heard over the radio, YN screaming out in Spanish, "I'M PREGNANT, I'M PREGNANT!"
I snapped my head up and looked at Steve. I didn't wait for him as I went off to find YN.
YN'S POV:
I know he is hurting. Every single time I ignore him or turn my back away from him, I can feel his eyes staring at me. Like he is looking into my soul.
But I still have no idea how to tell him.
How am I supposed to let him know that I am pregnant with his baby? That I am going to keep it whether he wants me to or not? That after this raid I plan on going home to work some desk job and try to stay away from the danger.
To be away from him because I know he won't want to leave Columbia. Not until he feels like his work is done and it never will be.
But as I was checking the backrooms, making sure they were clear, I realised I wasn't alone. I heard the sound of a gun cocking and I was told to drop my gun.
I dropped my gun and turned around, but I must have been moving too fast for this henchman of Pablo's because he slapped my face with the handle of his gun. I covered my stomach as I screamed out, "I'M PREGNANT, I'M PREGNANT!"
But that didn't seem to matter to him. A sick smile came over his face and he told me he was going to have lots of fun with me.
I didn't hear the footsteps come running towards us, but I heard the gunshot. I felt the blood splatter across my face and the guy fell to the ground.
I looked up and saw Javi standing there and Steve came rushing into the room, to make sure the guy was dead and to see if there was any identification on him, but Javier's focus was on me.
I crumbled to the ground as this all became too much for me, but I wasn't alone for long.
Javier got on the ground next to me and pulled me into his lap. I couldn't stop crying and he just held me through the tears.
Steve left the two of us alone until it was time for us to go. He found Javi and me still in the same room, with me in his lap.
The three of us walked out of the building, past many of our coworkers who heard me shout out over the radio that I was pregnant.
The car ride back to HQ was quiet. I got out of the car before them and went to go to the washroom.
The same one where Javier and I used to meet up, I knew he wouldn't be that far behind me.
I was gripping the sink, with my head down as he barged into the room. I was waiting for him to scream at me. To yell at me. Anything really, but he didn't.
All he said to me was, "Why?" My head snapped up and I turned to face him. "Why what?" I asked him.
"Why did you put your life and our baby's lives at risk?"
"No one knew I was pregnant and this is my job, Peña."
"So it is Peña now? Look YN, you were foolish and downright stupid today." He was getting angrier and angrier as he walked towards me.
"Fuck you, Javier. Fuck you." How dare he?
"You have already done that sweetheart." The smirk that came across his face, I wanted to slap off and I raised my hand to slap it off of his face when he caught my hand in his.
"I could have lost you today YN. Fuck, hearing your terrified screams made my blood run cold. I could have lost you without actually telling you how I feel."
"And how do you feel?"
"That I can't stand to be without you by my side another day. That I love you and these last few weeks without hearing you say my name or waking up next to me has been killing me."
"Who knew Javier Peña was a romantic?" I joked.
"Had to find the right woman YN."
"And me being pregnant?"
"Hmm, well I haven't had sex with a pregnant woman before. That means your boobs are gonna get bigger." He said to me with a giddy smile as he wrapped his arms around me.
I jokingly pushed away from him for that comment but he just pulled me closer to him.
He brought his lips to mine and we finally kissed after almost a month or so.
"I love you YN." He said as he pulled his lips away and leaned his forward against mine.
"I love you too Javi."
"Oh and you are getting a desk job. No more fieldwork for you."
"I already planned on it. Well, I was gonna go home but I guess I can stay here and work."
"Starting tomorrow." He said to me with a serious look.
"I'll talk to the boss and get assigned desk duty." His shoulders relaxed.
"Good, now how far along are you?" He asked me as we left the washroom.
"About 10 weeks give or take."
"What?" He stopped.
"Yeah around two and a half months."
His mouth opened and closed.
"Did you break him?" Steve asked as he stepped next to me.
"I think so."
"Congratulations to the both of you. I am sure once he stops malfunctioning we can go out and celebrate."
I laughed with Steve as I looked at Javi. I think the two of us will be just fine.
#javier pena#javier peña#javier peña imagine#javier peña x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña x you#javier peña x y/n#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#narcos#narcos imagine#narcos fic#narcos fanfiction#narcos x reader#narcos x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters
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Like Real People Do: Chapter 3
Chapter 3 of "Like Real People Do"
Working a Saturday shift, Eddie and Dustin come to the rescue to help you leave work early...only after you've met potentially a new friend.
Read Chapter 2 here
Pairing: Eddie x female reader (named "Brooke" because I hate using Y/N, but will also be using "you" to make it reader-centric!)
Warnings: swearing, angst if you squint enough
Word Count: 2.11k
A/N: Graphic made by me. I do not give permission for my work (graphic and writing) to be shared without my permission. I have a taglist for this fic, let me know if you'd like to be added to it!
The weather had finally gave way to autumn, the citizens of Hawkins saying goodbye to their tank tops, and hello to their sweaters. The sun was shining on this crisp, autumn day, making you a little stir crazy while you worked your Saturday shift.
Huffing and wiping your brow, you pushed the shelving cart through the Non-Fiction section, feeling like you were missing out. It was a Saturday and the library was virtually empty, and as you watched a group of kids run past the windows, you frowned slightly, wishing you were anywhere but there.
Sure, you loved the library – you loved reading! – but now that your social life was taking a turn for the better in Hawkins (you had gone out a couple of times with Nancy Wheeler, and oddly enough, her younger brother and his crew…most importantly, Eddie), you wanted to go do fun things. For instance, you knew that Eddie and the rest of Hellfire were going to the mall that afternoon, and were later grabbing burgers at Benny’s.
Your mind wandered to Eddie as you grabbed a small stack of books to re-shelve. Thinking of how, in the past few weeks, you had fallen into a nice friendship with him, and how, if given the chance, you’d want to seriously suck face with him.
Not that you’d admit that out loud.
Butterflies appeared in your stomach as you couldn’t help but smile, thinking back at the last time you had hung out with Eddie – after a Hellfire Club meeting, you met him in the parking lot to grab late night sodas at the local convenience store. Somehow, he made sitting in a dimly lit parking lot until 1 AM excessively fun, especially when he kept leaning into you every time he laughed.
Sigh.
His hair was extra curly that night, the summer humidity hanging on for dear life fluffing it up a bit. You noticed he smelled really good too, which, was how he smelled all the time…but it was still really good, and sill worth noticing.
“Uh…excuse me?” Some said from behind, snapping you out of your daydream. You jumped a little and turned around, facing a boy around your age, waving his hand awkwardly. When he finally got your attention, he smiled, “Hi. I’ve been trying to ask for help for a bit now…I hope you’re not in the middle of something?”
You blushed, embarrassed, “Oh god, no. I’m sorry. My brain is…somewhere else.”
He waved his hand as if to say “no big deal”, “It’s Saturday. Your brain isn’t supposed to be working that hard today, anyway.”
You laughed and nodded, “What can I help you with?”
“Well, I’m doing a report on Napoleon for school, and I was wondering if you could help me find some stuff on him?”
“Oh…well, you’re in the right section, and it’s alphabetical, so you can start at the N’s…but unfortunately, I’m not a librarian, so I can’t help you find exactly what you’re looking for…I just put stuff back on the shelves,” You gestured to the pile of books you were holding in your arms, “Eventually. I do put them back on the shelves…eventually.”
The boy nodded and stalled a moment, looking down at your outfit. “Do I…know you? Do you go to Hawkins High?”
You nodded, “I do. I transferred this year. I’m Brooke.”
“Michael. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand to shake it, but suddenly took his hand back, “Actually…let’s not. Because of the books…” He blushed a little, “I don’t want you to drop them.”
You smiled and waved your elbow as a greeting, “Nice to meet you,” Awkwardly, you transferred weight on your feet, “Well…I better get back to this…the librarian is over in the corner over there if you have questions.” You nodded towards the librarian, who may or may not have been currently sleeping.
Michael gave a little wave, “Yeah, sure. Thanks…it was nice to meet you.” He turned and walked a few steps away, but turned to look back at you. Giving you one last smile, he disappeared around the corner.
Huh. He was nice.
Suddenly, there was a giant crash near the front of the small library. You craned your neck and saw the front display of books on the floor, the books scattered in every direction. You followed the two pair of sneakers standing in front of the (now broken) display, and unsurprisingly, you found Eddie and Dustin. Sheepishly, they waved.
You rolled your eyes and put the book stack down, marching towards them, “What are you guys doing here?” You asked, your voice a hoarse whisper. You snuck a glance at the librarian at the front desk who was wide awake now.
“We’re here to bail you out!” Eddie said proudly, crossing his arms. You smiled at him.
“…you’re what?”
“We’re here to bail you out!” Dustin echoed, shouting excitedly. The librarian stood and put a finger to her lips.
Shh!
“No, I get that, but,” You ushered them over to a corner, trying to not get in trouble, “Why?”
“Because you shouldn’t be cooped up at work on such a beautiful day.” Eddie said, almost in a “duh!” fashion.
“Okay…and how are you going to bail me out?” You asked, incredulously.
Suddenly, Eddie grabbed your arm and dragged you over to the librarian’s desk, Dustin in tow.
“Ma’am!” Eddie said, suddenly acting nervously, “I am this young lady’s brother and I just found out that she is really sick…our doctor just called our house. He told us she shouldn’t be out, so our mom just asked me to take her home.”
“SHE’S CONTAGIOUS!” Dustin wailed dramatically, earning another “Shh!” from the librarian.
“You guys!” You hissed, embarrassed. You could feel the deep blush rising in your cheeks.
The librarian looked at them, then at you, and then at the clock. It read 2:30. Slowly, she looked back at you and sighed heavily.
“You’re lucky you only have a half hour left of your shift,” The librarian said, monotone. She waved her hand in the air, “Go…enjoy the beautiful day. I mean…enjoy your…” She looked over her glasses at Eddie, “Quarantine from your contagious illness.”
Dustin pumped his fist in the air and Eddie smiled, snagging your arm and taking you outside. “I can’t believe that worked.” He said, laughing as soon as he got outside.
“I can’t either…but you canNOT do that again, you guys! I could’ve gotten in trouble!”
“With that dinosaur? She’s so old she’s not going to remember this in like, five minutes.” Dustin said. He shoved his hands in his pockets, “So, Benny’s?”
“To Benny’s!” Eddie said, looping his arm in yours and leading you to his van. You giggled and followed suit, happy to be enjoying the day.
-*-
With your milkshakes to go, you and Eddie were the only two left after everyone had gone home. Currently, you were sitting in the back of his van, the doors open, watching the sun go down outside of the empty field next to Benny’s.
“Cookies and cream was the way to go.” Eddie said, slurping up some of his milkshake, speaking with his mouth open. You shook your head.
“You can’t go wrong with chocolate, Eddie. Any other flavor is just…not right.”
“Chocolate is so boring!”
“Chocolate is a classic!”
“I refuse to argue this bogus point,” Eddie said, putting his hand up in your face, “Quite frankly because there is no argument…I am right.”
You huffed, giggling and crossing your arms. You swung your legs and sipped your milkshake, falling in a comfortable silence with Eddie.
“So…who were you talking to?” Eddie asked randomly. Confused, you shot him a look.
“Huh?”
“When Dustin and I got to the library today, you were talking to…some guy. Who was it?” He nonchalantly sipped his milkshake, staring off at the sunset.
You furrowed your brow, “Oh…his name is Michael? He’s doing a project for school and needed help finding books. Apparently, he goes to our school but…I’ve never seen him,” You shrugged, following Eddie’s gaze.
He paused for a moment, “Oh. Michael Cardin? I think he’s in my study hall…” He nodded slowly, “Cool.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
You softly punched Eddie’s arm, “Why did you want to know?”
“I dunno,” Eddie said, lifting the straw out of the milkshake cup over and over again, “Just wanted to make sure he wasn’t like…bothering you…or something…” He grumbled.
You could feel your ears turning a bit pink – what was with Eddie wondering that? “Aw, Eddie…are you looking out for me?”
“I just know what people in this town can be like, especially with new kids, so I wanted to make sure he wasn’t giving you shit!” He smiled and chuckled, “Sue me!”
“That’s very nice,” You murmured, looking at him. He met your eyes and smiled, a drawn-out moment between the two of you. You got lost into his eyes before he cleared his throat uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair, “But I wouldn’t be able to sue you for like, anything. I’m the one who had to buy these milkshakes, if you’ve forgotten already.” You joked, trying to ease the tension.
“I told you, when I’m a rich and famous rockstar, I’ll buy you all the milkshakes you want.” He countered, nudging you with his elbow.
“Nah…when you’re a rich and famous rockstar, you’ll forget all about me. You’re gonna have like, 80 million chicks surrounding you, with bleach blonde hair and fancy makeup and tits out to here,” You held your hands far out on your chest, like you were holding beach balls. “That’s who you’re going to be buying milkshakes for.”
“First of all, those kinds of chicks probably don’t want milkshakes, they’ll probably want tequila,” He started, poking your shoulder, “And secondly…what makes you think that I’d ever forget you?”
You turned and looked at Eddie, his brown eyes seemingly boring into your skull. Your breath hitched in your throat as you searched his eyes, trying to find what he meant by that. He was leaning close to you, completely still. Uncomfortably, you shrugged.
“I don’t know…because I’m forgettable?” You mumbled.
“Okay, you must not be as smart as I thought you were because that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s true!” You said, throwing your hands up in the air, “I didn’t have a lot of friends back home! And let’s just say I didn’t have a line of boys waiting to take me on dates, either…” You sighed, “I mean, I don’t think I should be putting a brown paper bag over my head, but-”
“Yeah, well, you don’t need a line of boys waiting for you to take you on a date, just as long as you have the right one.” Eddie said, sucking out some more of his milkshake.
You eyed him and pressed your lips together, your heart starting to beat like crazy in your chest.
“Well…I don’t even have one yet, so…” You tried, quietly. Eddie snorted, putting his milkshake down.
“Well, that Michael guy seemed to have those goo-goo-ga-ga eyes after you guys talked today, so…” His voice tapered off.
You frowned, looking away in disappointment. You didn’t know why you thought maybe Eddie would give you an admittance of a crush, but hearing him try to go the Michael route was a bit crushing.
“Yeah…” You mumbled, sighing lightly and leaning against the edge of the van. You could hear kids playing off in the distance, the sun almost fully set now. Maybe you had read the situation with Eddie wrong? You thought he wouldn’t have been hanging out with you unless there was some sort of feelings there, but he was just given an easy in, and didn’t take it.
You felt lame.
“Are you getting cold? I can drive you home.” He offered, tossing his cup into a garbage can in the parking lot. It went in first try and he pretended to be a crowd roaring, throwing his hands up in the air. You felt sad, but also silly now that he was doing that.
He didn’t seem to even notice what was going on, and now he wanted to drive you home. Great.
You nodded, hopping out the back of the van. Making your way to the passenger seat, you finally spoke, “Yeah, I can go home.”
Eddie didn’t say anything, but got into the driver’s seat after closing the back doors to his van. He looked at you for a bit, and when you turned your head to meet his eyes, he immediately looked out the front window, starting the car.
He drove you home in silence.
---
As always, reblogs, likes, and comments mean the world to me!
Taglist: @cosmicdanielle @sapphire4082 @findmeincorneliastreet @hugdealer @chipster-21
#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson headcanon#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#stranger things#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic
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Hot neighbor Rumlow that you see in his yard like this one day. That's it. That's the ask 🥵💦
My lovely Lily,
You have so many great ideas roaming around inside that brain of yours and I love that you share those ideas with me and trust me to bring those ideas to life. So you wanted neighbor Rumlow? Here he is! I really hope you like it and thank you for always sending things/ideas to my inbox and for just being such a good friend ♥️♥️♥️
Hey, Neighbor
Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader
Warnings: None, really. A couple of swear words, fluff, some smooches, mentions of infidelity and divorce.
Word Count: 3.7K-ish
Summary: You’re newly single and start looking at your neighbor differently.
A/N: I don’t really have much else to say that I didn’t say above. Brock is fun to write for and even though she hasn’t read it yet, Lily said she’s already game for a part 2 🤣 I hope you like it!
As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
The early morning sun peeked through the very small opening in between your bedroom curtains. The warm rays beamed into your room, directly onto the foot of your bed where your dog, Beast, was sleeping peacefully.
It was Saturday and he seemed quite content that he also did not have to wake up early this morning however your internal clock never let you sleep in too much. Waking up with the sun was a lot better than being jolted awake by an alarm while it was still dark outside though so you reveled in the restful sleep you had last night.
You rolled over to look at your clock. It was 7:00 AM, birds were happily chirping outside your window, and you couldn’t wait to get up to do…nothing. It had been over a month since you had a free weekend and all you wanted to do today was relax, maybe start the new book you just bought, or just do whatever you felt like doing.
The house was quiet.
Since you finalized your divorce eight months ago, it had been very quiet but most of the time you didn’t mind. You thought maybe there was something wrong with you because you didn’t really have a problem being alone, sure there were times where you were lonely but you still didn’t mind being alone…maybe you actually preferred it.
You didn’t have any children so the divorce was quick and easy, he let you keep the house because he was moving in with his girlfriend, the one he was seeing while still married to you.
Yeah, that felt like a punch to the stomach. How could you not see it coming? Were you that blind? You thought you were happy together but it was all a lie, a lie that had dragged on for the past two years. It was humiliating and you felt like everyone knew he had been cheating on you except for you.
Even though they weren’t, you felt like everywhere you went people were looking at you, talking about you, and feeling sorry for you. But you were better off without him and you had everything you wanted right now.
You lived in a nice house, had a good job, friends, family, and your dog. What else did you need right now?
Coffee…coffee is what you needed.
“C’mon Beast…time to go outside, buddy. Let’s go.” You said, patting him on the head as he blinked his eyes and yawned, showing you all of his teeth.
After your divorce, you went to a local shelter because you wanted a dog for protection and companionship as you were now alone in your house.
When you walked in to where all of the kennels were, at first none of them felt like “the one” but as you moved toward the end of the rows of kennels, a young gray and white pitbull pushed his nose through the hole in the cage door and started wagging his tail, aggressively. Whimpering, he licked your fingers when you held them up to the kennel, he was such a sweet boy.
“What’s his story?” You had asked the employee.
“Not much to tell really, this guy has had a couple of homes but each owner said they didn’t really have the space for bigger dog like him and couldn’t give him the attention he needs.” They replied.
You had a decent size home and nice big yard for him to run around in so the decision was made that he was coming home with you and Beast smiled for the entire ride to his new home.
He did his little happy dance with his front paws before you opened the door and as soon as you opened it, he took off running for the very back of the yard where he did his business. As he sprinted back toward you, he stopped quickly in the middle of the yard to bring you his ball that he loved for you to throw for him.
The air was still slightly chilly as it brushed against your exposed skin. Your sleep clothes left little to the imagination, maybe you were still not fully awake yet, but you looked down and realized you were out in the middle of the yard in a thin strap tank top and shorts, with no bra on which of course is when your neighbor stepped outside to get onto his motorcycle.
You didn’t know what he did for a living but he was always out until crazy hours of the night or going in on weekends. You didn’t think he was a doctor; his wardrobe didn’t exactly scream “healthcare professional” but anything is possible. Dressed in all black wearing combat boots, he walked out of his side door with a scowl on his face and a furrowed brow.
His side door faced your yard and he actually did a double take when he saw you standing in the yard, half naked, playing with Beast so you gave him a little wave and a slight smile. He seemed a little flustered and quickly waved back but in an awkward manner.
His name was Brock Rumlow and had just come home from work the day you were moving into your house so he introduced himself to you and your then husband.
At the time, you didn’t really pay that much attention to what he looked like but now that you were single, you had noticed that Brock was quite handsome in a grouchy, angry sort of way.
Brock had dark brown hair, days old stubble on his face, and his eyes were a warm golden brown like the color of amber or whiskey. It was one of the first things you noticed about him when he introduced himself.
But you’ve had little interaction since besides the occasional “good morning” or a wave here and there. You felt yourself staring as he climbed on his bike and sped off down the street. You probably wouldn’t see him again today.
“Beast! Inside, now. Go on, time for your breakfast.” You said, holding the door open for him.
The temperature outside warmed up nicely since this morning and after cleaning for a little while, you decided you were finished with that for the day and were ready to relax with your book and a cup of tea. Part of the reason you bought your house was because it had a reading nook. You had always wanted one and you finally had one, it was your favorite place in the house.
With Beast asleep on the floor next to you and your tea resting on a little table behind your head, you were fully immersed in your book. Since it was such a nice day outside, you had opened the windows to get some fresh air and the curtains swayed as the cool breeze blew in through the screens.
You were so lost in the story, you almost didn’t hear Brock’s motorcycle pull back into his driveway. That’s strange. Usually when he left for the day, he was gone until sometime in the evening but you didn’t think much of it and went back to your book.
The reading nook faced Brock’s house and at one point you looked up from your book to rest your eyes and look out the window. To your surprise, when you looked up, Brock was standing in his driveway…and he was shirtless.
“Holy fuck.” You said out loud.
Oh shit…hopefully he didn’t hear you.
He was quite the specimen, warm tan skin, tight arm muscles and abs you could wash clothes on. How have you not seen this before? It couldn’t be the first time he’s been outside without a shirt but then again, he usually isn’t home during the daylight hours where you could see him clearly.
Beast picked his head up off of the floor as the words escaped your lips and he cocked his head to one side as he looked at you.
“Oh don’t look at me like that.” You said narrowing your eyes at him. “I didn’t know he was hiding that body underneath his clothes. How could I?”
You felt a little crazy talking to your dog like he was a person.
It looked like Brock was doing some stretching. Biting down on your thumb, you continued to stare out the window, hoping he was too far away for him to notice you gawking at him. With your thighs clenched together, you inched closer to the glass but you weren’t paying attention to how close to the glass you were.
Your forehead hit the glass with a slight “thud;” Brock looked up from his stretches and looked in your direction, thankfully you were quick enough to duck away from the window.
The pillow cradled your head as warmth rose to your cheeks and you watched as your book, resting on your chest, rose and fell with your nervous inhales and exhales. Beast had started to bark when he heard the thud against the glass. You tried to get him to stop by whisper yelling at him.
“Hey! Ssshhh, stop it! It’s just me!” You said.
Peeking out from behind the curtain, you saw Brock had gone back to his stretching. It looked like he was getting ready to go for a run. Beast finally stopped barking and Brock took off down the driveway.
You watched him until he was out of sight; finally, you could breathe easy but now you were wondering if he had noticed you watching him. You didn’t think so but it was still a possibility especially after the dog started to bark.
Maybe you were done reading for now.
**********
Since you had the entire day to yourself, you had the time to make your grandmother’s spaghetti sauce. You were the only one she trusted the recipe with and each time you made it, you reminisced about all the times you helped her make that sauce.
It would cook on the stove all day and your reward for helping her was she would give you a small bowl filled with sauce and a couple pieces of Italian bread for you to dip with. You would always get to have some before anyone else did, it was one of your favorite memories of her.
To get even more fresh air inside the house, you had opened the front door and kept the screen door shut plus Beast loved to sit in front of the door and watch people and cars go by.
While stirring the sauce, your back was toward the front door when Beast started to whine and scratch at the door. You figured he just saw another dog walk by; he loved to say hi to every person or animal that walked by the house.
He barked then scratched at the door so hard that he nudged it open and ran outside. You turned to see the screen door ajar and swaying back and forth.
“Shit! Beast! No!!” You shouted after him.
After you ran outside and down the driveway, you looked around for him and finally found him licking Brock’s face just past your mailbox.
“Oh my god, Brock I am so sorry! He just pushed the door open and ran out before I could stop him.” You said apologetically.
Brock was kneeling down next to Beast, gently patting his head.
“Oh that’s alright, doll. He’s a good boy, he just wanted to say hello. Didn’t ya boy?”
The smile on Brock’s face was probably the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen on him which made you smile.
“Well thank you for catching him for me.” You said.
You then did something very out of character. You had always been very shy and quiet but you liked Brock and you definitely couldn’t eat that sauce all by yourself. So even though it made you feel nauseous, you decided to ask him anyway.
“B-brock? W-would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I, well I made my grandmother’s spaghetti sauce and I forgot that it’s enough to feed a small army.” You said, struggling to get the words out.
He looked shocked and didn’t really know what to say, like it was the first time he’s ever been invited to dinner.
“Oh…thank you y/n, but I’m all sweaty from my run just now.” He said, politely.
You noticed the sweat glistening off his body and on his forehead. It was hard not to notice. He really was extremely handsome, especially when he smiled.
“Well you have plenty of time to shower and change. I’m not quite finished cooking yet.” You said.
Brock looked a little uneasy, almost like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you no. You finally felt ready enough to talk to another man in a way that’s not platonic and you were terrified that he was going to say no. And then to think you would be reminded of that rejection every time you saw him after that.
Glancing down at the ground, you thought maybe it would be easier if you didn’t look at him. Maybe you could keep the tears from stinging the back of your eyes but he surprised you with his answer.
“Well in that case, I’d love to, doll.” He said softly.
Butterflies formed in your stomach and the words that fell from your lips were a little shaky but you managed to get them out without stumbling too much.
“O-ok. Great! I’ll see you in about an hour then.” You said. “Come on, Beast. Let’s go, ya troublemaker.”
**********
Not wanting to look like you were trying too hard but still wanting to look put together, you put on a pair of jeans and changed from a white t-shirt to a black one in case the clumsy version of you decided to show up and get marinara sauce all over yourself. You kept the minimal makeup look you had on from earlier in the day and kept your hair back.
Brock knocked on your door exactly an hour later, Beast helped you greet him at the door by barking and wagging his tail. Brock had brought over a bottle of wine which was very sweet of him.
“Hi Brock…Beast, get down! I’m so sorry…oh, thank you for the wine. That’s very nice of you…BEAST, get down! I know you’re excited that someone else is in the house.” You said.
A slight smiled stretched across his lips as he looked at you with his honey colored eyes.
“I had a grandma once too…she taught me never to show up any place empty handed. I woulda got ya some flowers too but I only had an hour.” He said with a wink.
Brock was dressed almost exactly like you were. Black shirt and jeans but he was wearing black boots; he looked incredibly handsome.
He took one look at the dining room table and admitted to feeling a little underdressed. You had set the table nicely with placemats, cloth napkins, and candles. You didn’t think it was overly romantic but maybe he did and you were afraid you might scare him away but it didn’t.
“Do you need help with anything?” He asked.
You were caught completely off guard by that question. Your ex-husband didn’t help much with the cooking or anything, really.
“Oh! Thank you, I think I’m all set though. Actually, you can open the wine…let me just find the corkscrew.” You said.
**********
Surprisingly, Brock was very easy to talk to. The wine probably helped a little but you had a feeling that maybe he wasn’t as angry as he appeared to be sometimes. Eyebrows pulled together in a straight line, lips pressed together, the gruff raspy tone to his voice when he said “good morning…” maybe he just didn’t want people to know that he’s actually kind of sweet and soft.
“I’ll admit, I was a little surprised when I saw your ex movin’ out. I thought you two had a decent marriage.” Said Brock.
With raised eyebrows, you said, “Yeah well, I wasn’t having sex nearly as often as he was sooooooo.”
Brock looked surprised as you confessed your ex had cheated on you.
“Wait…he cheated on you?” He asked.
“Brock, I feel like everyone else knew except me, like everyone on the street was looking at me differently. I felt really ashamed.” You said with a hitch in your voice as you looked away from him.
Tears welled up in your eyes quicker than you anticipated and before you could prevent one from streaking down your cheek. It was slightly embarrassing because you didn’t know your neighbor all that well and now you were crying in front of him.
“Hey, hey y/n…it’s ok.” He said softly as he gently brushed the top of your hand with his calloused fingers. The rasp in his voice was so sexy. “If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea and I doubt anyone else knew either. Plus…just…well, fuck that guy.”
You weren’t expecting him to say that; it caught you off guard and you let out a little laugh.
“Ya know what? You’re right…fuck that guy!” You exclaimed with a wide smile.
The two of you finished the bottle of wine and Brock insisted on doing the dishes, he actually looked cute with the dish towel draped over his shoulder which, you couldn’t help but notice, was filling out that part of his shirt nicely. Was it the wine that was making you warm or was it him?
You continued to talk for a while longer before Brock got up to leave. You really didn’t want him to go though.
“In my line of work, they don’t really care that it’s Sunday. I have to get up early tomorrow.” He said.
Nodding your head, you replied. “Oh of course. I understand.”
You followed him over to the front door, he turned to face you, and said, “Thank you for this, y/n. It was really nice, haven’t had a home cooked meal in awhile so thank you again.”
Your bodies were close, sharing the same air and you could smell the wine on his lips as he spoke.
“You’re very welcome, Brock. I’m sure I’ll still be eating that sauce for days but thank you for trying to help me make a dent in it.” You said, nervously.
Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it was going to burst out of your chest. You knew your skin would be warm to the touch as your heart beat faster and faster.
“Well…goodnight y/n.” He whispered.
His warm breath brushed against your ear, the air between you felt thick, like you could cut it with a knife and you wanted him to kiss you so badly.
You replied. “Goodnight.”
He walked out and turned back once more to wave and smile at you.
Before you closed the door, Beast whimpered while staring out at the street. He was probably wondering where Brock went.
“He went home, buddy. He doesn’t live here, ya know.” You told him with a slight smile but in a disappointing tone.
As you closed the door, Beast whined again and you whispered, “I know, I wanted him to kiss me too.”
After your shower, you decided to read a little more. The lights in the house were dimmed, the only bright light in the room was your book light and you had only been reading for about 20 minutes when Beast let out a low growl. You looked down at him, his tail started to swish back and forth then started to whine.
“Ya know for a big bad pitbull, you whine a lot like a little baby. What is it?” You asked.
Immediately after you asked that question, there were three loud raps against your front door. Confused, you put your book down, threw the blanket off of your legs, and walked over to the front door. Beast followed you, wagging his tail.
Brock was leaning against the screen when you opened the front door.
“Hey doll, I uh…well, I forgot something.” He said, opening the screen and stepping inside.
You looked up at him, then looked back over at the dining room chair, still a little confused.
“Oh…I don’t remember you bringing a jack—“ You tried to say before he cut you off.
Brock’s lips collided with yours, as he closed the door behind him. Suddenly your back was against the wall, running your fingers through his thick brown hair, while your lips parted, giving his tongue access to your mouth.
He was a really good kisser.
Brock’s chest was pressed firmly against yours, so you were pinned in between him and the wall. He was so strong but it felt amazing to have your body pressed against his. He nipped at your jawline and peppered kisses up and down your neck while soft moans escaped your lips.
Beast stood on his hind legs and lunged toward you and Brock like he was missing out on something. He was whining.
Breathing heavily, you pulled away and smiled at Brock. Your cheeks were warm and you could feel how red they were.
“I think someone else wants a kiss.” You said. “Careful, he has a fast tongue.”
Brock bent down so he was level with Beast and he glanced up at you. “Yeah, he ain’t the only one.” He said with a wink.
You covered your eyes in embarrassment.
After giving Beast gentle pats to his head, Brock stood up and closed the gap between your bodies. He cupped your cheeks, leaned in, and kissed you again. These were gentle kisses, soft and sweet and his stubble lightly brushed against your skin.
It had been awhile since your lips had touched someone else’s, his kisses sent shivers down your spine and gave you butterflies in your stomach. These were feelings you haven’t had in a long time; you were nervous but willing to give it all another chance.
“Dinner at my place next time, doll?” He asked.
A sly smile stretched across your lips as you purred into his ear.
“Only if we can have dessert first…neighbor.”
Others that might enjoy: @munsonownsmyass @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @k-marzolf @redstarsandnightmares @nutmeg17 @gijos @randomlittleimp @nekoannie-chan
If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!
#brock rumlow#brock rumlow fanfiction#brock rumlow imagine#brock rumlow x reader#brock rumlow x female reader
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The Forgotten Spaces | ch 4 (jjk)
☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?
☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there will be mature content in later chapters)
☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff
☆warnings: nausea, hangover, the park jimin effect, drinking, cursing? a time skip of a month
☆word count: 9.6k
☆a/n: why is posting making me anxious? fun fact, I'm posting from New York City this week! Went to the two first Agust D concerts ayyy
☆a/n pt2: always and forever thankful for @moonleeai and her dedicated work as my beta reader <3
☆series masterpost here
☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces
☆☆☆☆☆
For this meeting of our end of the world
It's with you that I want to sing
On the threshold of the memories the dead of today
Them that breathe for us
The forgotten spaces
Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)
☆☆☆☆☆
Saturday, May 19th
Jungkook feels sick. Sick of everything, but mostly sick because his hungover has kept him in bed all day. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to pull up for dance practice later. All he knows is that his room has been spinning whenever he wakes up from naps, and that he fucked up majestically last night.
He doesn’t quite remember everything he said. He just remembers you, in his room, and then you being gone, replaced by Jimin and Taehyung.
The only thing he knows is that you know. The text that’s been sitting on his phone all day is reminder enough.
[11:12 am] You: hey, i hope ur okay this morning.. if u ever wanna talk about last night, we can grab a coffee or smth😌
He doesn’t know what to say, so he hasn’t replied. Because he’s not okay at all, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. Especially not with you.
Especially not when he hasn’t been able to eat anything since the first time he woke up today. It’s nearing 4 pm now, and he technically needs to be at the studio in two hours. Hobi already said he’d pick him up, but he’s still far from being presentable right now.
Jungkook groans, hiding his face in his pillow. You come up in his mind, the look of horror on your face last night making everything spin around him twice as much as before. Whenever he closes his eyes, you’re there, and he almost hopes to go blind.
Though he’s pretty sure you’d find a way to haunt him even if he was blind.
Another groan escapes him, and he turns his head to the side as someone knocks on his door. “Uh?” he lets out, loud enough for whoever it is to hear.
He’s surprised to see it’s Yoongi as the man opens the door. “I made you soup,” Yoongi says, and sure enough he is carrying a tray with a steaming bowl of soup on top of it.
Jungkook expects the thought of eating to make him feel worse, but surprisingly enough, no nausea rises inside of him. Instead, he realizes his stomach feels dreadfully empty, so he forces himself to sit, wincing at the throbbing pain at his temples.
It’s almost enough to make him forget the pain in his leg.
“Did you take any painkillers?” Yoongi asks as he puts down the tray at the foot of the bed. “And have you drank any water?”
“Yes and yes,” Jungkook replies, voice raucous from disuse. “Pretty sure I could use some more painkillers though.”
Yoongi nods, watching his younger friend carefully. “Do you need me to go get you some?”
Jungkook slowly shakes his head no. “I need to get out of bed if I want to make it to dance practice.”
At that Yoongi laughs. “Good luck with that.”
Jungkook frowns, glaring at Yoongi. “I’m very capable, I’ll have you know.”
“Your room smells like someone died in here.”
Though he’s usually sensitive to smell, Jungkook’s hungover state keeps him from being able to tell if the room really does stink. “Tae and Jimin cleaned up.”
“Then you must be the dead body,” Yoongi says, in that deadpan kind of way of his. He shrugs his shoulders, before adding, “Anyway, just eat and then take a shower. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”
Jungkook nods and watches as Yoongi makes to move out of his room. Yoongi’s at the door when Jungkook says, “Hyung?” Yoongi turns around, a quizzical look on his features. “Thank you for the soup.”
A smile breaks out across Yoongi’s face. “Anytime.”
And then Yoongi leaves, shutting the door softly behind him, and Jungkook is left alone once again. He looks down at the soup, and he realizes he really is hungry. He pulls the tray closer to him, making sure the soup doesn’t spill over the rim of the bowl, before grabbing the spoon.
The first spoonful of soup has his eyes fluttering shut with delight. Yoongi’s always been an amazing cook, and he hasn’t disappointed today. It awakens Jungkook more than anything else could have, and he’s finished the bowl of soup so quickly he almost considers eating the tray.
He’s still famished, but at least he’s got something in his stomach now. It’s enough to get him to stand from his bed, and though everything wobbles for a few seconds, he’s able to start gathering what he’ll need for his trip to the shower.
The shower really helps make him feel human again, and he’s relieved. As he steps out and looks at himself in the mirror, eyes dipping to his scars, he feels ready to confront the whole world if need be. He won’t have to bail on dance practice after all.
He’s down in the kitchen, eating some reheated pizza from last night, when Hobi arrives. His older friend pats him on the back, before putting down a Gatorade in front of him.
“Thought you’d need this,” he says, before climbing on the stool next to Jungkook.
Jungkook chuckles, immediately uncapping the Gatorade to take a long swig. It’s the last thing he needed to feel as good as new, and he offers Hobi a wide grin as soon as he puts the bottle down.
“I sure did,” he says, and the two friends laugh.
One thing that doesn’t change though, is the heaviness in Jungkook’s heart. Because if you know, then it’s just a matter of time before the rest of the crew knows. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to deal with everyone pitying him at the same time.
Maybe then he’ll just have to dip again.
Jin comes into the kitchen, and he stops as he sees Jungkook and Hobi at the counter. Valeria trails behind him, and Jungkook is struck dumb once more.
He never thought Jin would be able to pull the girl. He’s still surprised that she does exist, and whenever he’s alone with Jin he makes it a priority to remind his older friend.
“Sup’ losers,” Jin says as he starts moving again, heading towards the fridge to store the bottle of rosé wine he’s holding. “Surprised you were able to get out of bed.”
He says that over his shoulder looking right at Jungkook, who rolls his eyes. “I’m not a senior citizen like you, I’ve still got youth on my side.”
“Listen you little shit,” Jin bursts out, and Valeria starts laughing. It has the effect of a calming shower on Jin, who only glares at Jungkook. “You’re lucky the lady is here. Otherwise you’d be dead.”
“If you’d be able to catch me, that is.”
Jin looks towards Hobi.
“Don’t ask me for help,” Hobi says, raising his hands in defense. “You’re all alone on this.”
Jin’s head turns towards his girlfriend next. She’s shy, and Jungkook has never really talked to her before. So when he and Hobi look at her too, she blushes, before shrugging.
Jin lets out a childish whine, before saying, “Alright then, I’m old.”
“We like you like that.” Valeria is the one that speaks, and Jungkook chokes on a laugh as he turns back towards Jin.
“You heard her.”
Jin is fake-glaring at his girlfriend, but then his features soften. “Yeah, but at least she’s pretty.” And just like that he moves out of the kitchen, pulling Valeria behind him.
“I’ve been told I’m pretty too,” Jungkook yells behind Jin, and Hobi laughs next to him. “He’s so whipped,” Jungkook says after a few seconds, just to make sure Jin is out of earshot. His comment makes him think about another couple that’s starting to form, and he turns to look at Hobi. “And you? What’s up with Jiho?”
Hobi chokes, flushing fully red, up to the top of his ears. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook raises his eyebrows as he tries to hold in the shit-eating smirk that wants to form on his lips. “What do I mean? Why did you invite her yesterday?”
“I –” Hobi says. “I just thought it’d be fun to hang with the crew…”
“The crew?” The smirk has won now, and it breaks across Jungkook’s lips.
“Well, you know, just like…” Hobi falls silent, before letting out a strangled laugh. “I honestly didn’t see it coming.”
It’s cute, and Jungkook’s smirk turns into a softer smile. “To be honest, me neither.”
“She’s got balls though,” Hobi says, laughing lightly this time. “She’s the one who suggested we should go on a date, after dance practice last week.”
All that Jungkook remembers of that night is that he walked with you after. The rest is a blur of anxiety and his leg hurting. But he’s not surprised that Jiho’s got balls: she has to be your closest friend for a reason.
“You said yes, I hope,” Jungkook says.
Hobi slowly nods. “Yeah. But I invited her yesterday because of that too. And we’re going to a restaurant she suggested tomorrow.”
Jungkook doesn’t have to fake the happiness that takes over him right now. He’s happy for his friend, he really is. For his friends, plural. Because Taehyung, Jin, Yoongi and now Hobi… They’re all happy. They all have met someone, someone to care for them where no one else can. Strangely, it’s something Jungkook doesn’t really want for himself right now, maybe because he’s too stuck in the past.
Too stuck trying to heal from the crash, knowing some parts won’t ever heal and refusing to give up the fight for now.
It brings him back to you. To last night, and to whatever he said. He wishes he could remember the words, just to know how bad he fucked up, but he doesn’t. He won’t remember, and he won’t ask you.
He won’t take you up on your offer for coffee. He knows pity when he sees it, and he abhors it. Especially when it comes from you.
Instead, he focuses on Hobi, on the smile that lights up his friend’s face as he tells him about Jiho, about how they’ve been texting almost constantly. It’s all Hobi talks about on the ride to the studio, as he mentions stuff Jiho told him.
Stuff she told him about her when she was younger, but also about you. About how you’ve been friends since the first day of kindergarten, when someone pulled her braids and laughed at her and you punched them in the face.
He’s not surprised child you would punch someone that deserved it in the face. He’s pretty sure adult you would do it too.
Hobi parks his car next to the studio, and they are getting out of the vehicle when Jungkook notices you walking, hands buried in yet another oversized sweater. You’re wearing yoga pants underneath, and your hair is pulled up in a high ponytail. You catch his gaze a few seconds after he notices you, and he’s about to smile at you when you just look away, walking in the building without once glancing back.
What the fuck?
Jungkook frowns, especially as Hobi says, “What happened with Y/n last night?”
For some reason, Jungkook immediately grows defensive. He shrugs, a little vehemently before starting to walk towards the door. “Nothing happened. Just let it slip that I got into a car crash.”
“So she knows?” Hobi asks.
Another shrug of Jungkook’s shoulders. He buries his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, just to hide the way he’s clenching his fists even though he’s trying to stay calm. “Yeah. So everyone will know.”
“I don’t think so,” Hobi says, and Jungkook glances at him, brows knit together. “I mean, she’s good at keeping secrets.”
“She’s probably already told Jiho,” Jungkook points out as they reach the door. He doesn’t see you on the other side, and that’s the only reason why he opens it.
“Well, Jiho didn’t say anything about you, if that can reassure you.”
Hobi has felt the switch in his mood, hasn’t he? Because his voice is careful, as if he’s afraid to spook him.
“I don’t care,” Jungkook lies. Because he really does care. He doesn’t want everyone to know. Because it makes it too real, and for now he still can pretend it hasn’t happened.
He wishes for it to stay that way.
Hobi doesn’t push him more, and a tense silence moves between them. Jungkook wishes he could go back to his previous good mood about his friends’ happiness, but he’s back where he was last night. Somewhere in the dark of his own mind.
Not a good place to hang, if he’s honest.
He already knows he’s going to see you when he reaches the studio. Somehow, it still makes his heart constrict in his chest, that same way it did last night. As if someone is clenching their fist around it, and it makes it harder to breathe. He shrugs it off, taking a deep breath to calm down, before looking around.
Everyone but Heather is already here. And no one is looking at him, no one seems surprised or seems to be pitying him. You don’t even act like you noticed him entering – you take off your sweater, dropping it in a corner of the room with your phone and your keys. He hates it, but his eyes follow the curves of your body, and he wants to curse you for only wearing a sports bra.
Your body is lean, the results of dancing for most of your life with a mother that used to be a ballerina. Jungkook is pretty sure she’s controlled everything you ate growing up, and drilled it so hard into your head that you can’t stand bad food now. He remembers, when you were younger and someone brought cake to practice to celebrate a birthday, you always barely took a bite before saying you were full. You claimed you didn’t like cake, but he always noticed the way you eyed it while everyone else ate.
He used to make fun of you for it, and today he knows he was an asshole. All he can hope is that your relationship with food is better now. And it looks like it is – you’re not as thin as you were before. You look healthy, and your skin and hair are glowing.
It takes him a few good seconds to realize he’s staring, as if something about you has changed. And he doesn’t know what changed, just knows that he feels struck.
You notice him staring, and you furrow your brows. “What are you looking at?”
It’s said aggressively. As if you’re angry. He only then realizes that you might be, and maybe that’s why you ignored him outside. He can’t for the life of himself figure out why you’d be angry – did he say something yesterday?
“Nothing,” he replies, and he looks away as his heart beats out of his chest.
You act like that for the whole of practice. For all the pity looks Heather throws his way, you send twice as many glares. It feels like last night never happened, and maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was just a nightmare, and he never told you everything.
He knows you know though, because whenever he puts too much weight on his leg as he demonstrates the movements he has in mind, you clench your jaw. A muscle feathers under your skin, and then you look away. Shame passes on your features, and then it’s gone to be replaced with a scowl.
He’s getting tired of it by the end of practice, so he pulls you aside to talk. Jiho stubbornly stays next to you, until Hobi walks up to her and asks if he can talk to her, probably sensing that Jungkook needs some time alone with you.
You both glare at each other while the others filter out, wishing you good night. Jungkook hears Scottie teasing Lance about meeting up with a girl, and the last thing he hears is Lance telling him to fuck off before everyone is finally out.
It takes almost twenty seconds before you blink and say, “What do you want?”
“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, folding his arms on his chest as he cocks an eyebrow.
You scoff. “With me? Nothing. What’s wrong with you?”
Do you know or do you not? He’s a little confused as you just look at him, clearly expecting an answer. He’s dumbfounded – the last thing he expected from telling you everything was you being furious at him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.
It’s just a back and forth of questions at this point, with no visible answers in the distance. Indeed, you just say, “Do you think you did something wrong?”
It’s absurd, and it makes him laugh. Which, he reckons, might be taken as insulting. And of course you take it the bad way, because how else would you take it?
“You’re so fucking oblivious,” you grumble.
He’s still laughing. He wants to stop, but for some reason he cannot.
“What’s so funny?” you enquire, and your cheeks are turning red.
“Just,” he starts, “I don’t know. The last thing I expected from last night was you getting angry at me.”
You roll your eyes. “If you were looking for pity you won’t get any from me.”
That’s the thing. He doesn’t want any pity from you. And you saying so makes something warm blossom in his chest, and it sobers him up. His face falls serious, and he holds your gaze long enough that you raise your eyebrows in question.
“Thank you,” he says.
You scoff. “You’re fucking weird, Jeon.”
He shrugs. “That’s why you like me, uh?”
Your eyes widen, and you look so appalled he just starts laughing again. “Quite the opposite actually,” you say even though he’s laughing. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I don’t know,” he repeats. “I’m just relieved you haven’t changed.”
He really is. You have no idea how much.
“Okay?” you let out, and it sounds like a question. You scoff again, before adding, “Why didn’t you reply to my text?”
Oh, so this is what it’s about. You’re upset because he ignored your text. It feels absurd and stupid and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, so Jungkook just smiles and shrugs. “I genuinely don’t really want to talk about last night. I’m all okay today.”
And he does think he is, now that he’s talking to you.
You remain silent for a while, pulling at some dry skin on your bottom lip. You then brush a strand of hair that’s fallen from your ponytail behind your ear, nodding your head. “Understood. Won’t be nice to you again.”
“Oh please,” Jungkook teases. “You can’t resist it.”
He’s happy. The more he talks to you, the happier he is. He feels like he’s floating, and he wishes you’d both stay right then and there, in the studio, until the end of time.
He hasn’t felt so light in forever.
“Oh, I can, Jeon.” You fold your arms on your chest, imitating his posture. “Watch me.”
But there’s a teasing glint in your eyes, probably awakened by his own teasing demeanour.
“I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your text,” he apologizes, because he feels like he needs to clear the air with you. He doesn’t want you to be upset with him anymore. “I genuinely didn’t know what to say, and I figured I was going to see you tonight anyway.”
You look away for the first time in the conversation. Your eyes move down, and he’s pretty sure you’re looking at the scar on his stomach. It makes it itch, and if he weren’t with you, he’d scratch it. But he resists, offering you a tight-lipped smile as you look up at his eyes again.
“Well, forget I suggested coffee then,” you say. You wink at him. “I’ll start being a bitch again now.”
“Please do.”
You look startled. “You want me to be a bitch?”
He laughs, scratching the nape of his neck. “No.” He scrunches up his nose, thinking really hard about what he wants to say. Only he doesn’t know what to say. He feels like he’s never talked to you before in his whole life. He can barely remember breaking down in front of you not even twenty-four hours ago. “Yes? Just be your same usual self.”
“Noted,” you say, nodding your head forcefully.
It’s cute, and it makes your ponytail swing behind you. He has half a thought to reach and pull on it, just to annoy you, but he resists.
Instead, he looks around, before resuming his attention on you. “Just, one thing.”
You hold his gaze, cocking an eyebrow in question as you purse your lips. “Mmh?”
“Please don’t tell the others,” he says. It’s a little more serious than he was just a second ago, but he feels like it’s needed to get the point across. “I’d prefer if they didn’t know.”
The corners of your lips stretch into a small, soft smile. “I didn’t plan on telling anyone. I figured you’re the one that should tell them if you want to.” You glance towards the door, and you’re not watching him when you add, “I think Bridget told Heather though. And I don’t know if Heather will remain silent”.
He doesn’t care if Heather tells the others. He just doesn’t want you to do it. It makes no sense, but at the same time it makes all the sense in the world to him.
“Yeah, I think she knows too.” He pulls at his piercing, letting out a small sigh. “I’ll talk to her.”
You nod, and the room falls silent. He wishes he had more to tell you, but it seems you’ve run out of conversation topics, because you eventually wet your lips and say, “Well, I guess I’ll be going home now”. And then you laugh, shaking your head. “I was supposed to leave with Jiho, but I’m pretty sure she’s gone with Hobi.”
“Hobi talked about her for like an hour before we got here,” Jungkook admits, relieved that you provided a topic. “They’re going on a date tomorrow.”
You smile, widely, and he reckons you’re like him. Your friends’ happiness makes you happy, and happiness truly looks good on you. It makes your eyes sparkle, and you look like a kid who’s just received the perfect gift on Christmas morning.
“I know!” you yelp, taking him by surprise when you even clap your hands. “They’re going to the restaurant I suggested.”
There’s something warm in Jungkook’s chest. It just becomes stronger and stronger the more he looks at you, and it makes him feel wary. Enough so that he looks away and tries to tame it down.
“I hope everything will work out for them,” he says, and he scrapes his throat because the warmth is choking him up now.
“I’m sure it will”, you reply, confidently. “Jiho has been into him for like three years now.”
Jungkook feels bad for her, because three years ago Hobi was still with his ex. But it seems patience makes miracles, because she’s getting a date with Hobi now, isn’t she?
It makes Jungkook realize that sometimes, the right person for someone might have been around all along. They’ve just been blind to it. Now, that’s a thought that makes him want to get out of this room. To flee this cloud before it breaks, and he meets your gaze.
You’re watching him already, with a wistful look on your features. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
He hates it. Hates everything that your little sentence makes him feel, so he just nods his head, before saying, “It’s getting late, I should hurry if I want to catch the bus”.
Your eyes widen. “I’ll order you a Lyft, come on.”
“No!” he refuses. “It’s all good.”
“But it’s late,” you insist, and you bend down to grab your phone on your sweater.
It offers Jungkook a straight view to your cleavage, and he freezes, right as pink dusts his cheeks. “I swear,” he reassures you, adding your name before continuing, “I’d rather take the bus. But thank you for the offer.”
You fake-glare at him. “Right, I’m supposed to be a bitch anyway.” You fold your arms on your chest, cocking an eyebrow arrogantly, and you look just like you’ve always looked when you say, “What the fuck are you still doing here? You’re wasting my oxygen.”
It makes the both of you laugh, and Jungkook just shakes his head. “Please, I know you love looking at me.”
You look offended, somehow, and you scoff. “I’d rather gouge my eyeballs out of my head instead of having to look at you for a second longer.”
“Ouch, that was rough.”
“You deserved it.” You shrug your shoulders, before motioning at the door in a swooshing motion. “Now, go lick your wounds somewhere else.”
“Aren’t you leaving too?”
You glare at him now, and you’re so good at it he almost thinks you’re angry. “Why, do you want to walk me home?”
His mouth falls open. Would you let him walk you home? For some reason, he’s pretty sure you’ll punch him if he even suggests it. So instead, he chooses to say, “And suffer the whole way? Nah, I’m good.”
It’s a low-key mention of his injury. You immediately catch on to it, and Jungkook hates the look that takes over your features. He thought that you didn’t have pity for him in you, but it seems you do. You do and it feels like the fist around his heart is back, and the air burns a little.
You seem like you want to say something, but he’s quicker than you.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Jungkook.”
“No, I’m serious, don’t you fucking look at me like that.”
And just like that the light atmosphere shifted back into darkness.
You scoff, shaking your head. “And here I was starting to think that you’re a decent guy. Never mind, Jeon.” You scoff once more, and the corners of your mouth are pulled down in a look of pure disgust. “I’m going home.”
He lets you go. He doesn’t even look at you as you pick up your stuff and leave, not once glancing back.
No matter how enjoyable this interlude in your usual relationship was, Jungkook prefers the usual hate. It’s safer, more comfortable, and a habit that protects him from the vulnerability.
Why then is he staring at your text two hours later in his bed at home, unable to fall asleep, wishing he didn’t say what he did?
In all truth, he knows why, he just doesn’t want to formulate the thought. Doesn’t want to give it the power to exist in the confines of his brain. So he ignores it, shoves the warmth in his chest so far down in the hole occupied by his lost dream that he can’t really feel it anymore.
Only then does he feel safe again, but he still can’t fall asleep.
He hopes you’re not struggling with insomnia as much as he is.
Thursday, June 28th
The auditions for nationals are in a week. Seven days, and you’re still not sure you’ve mastered the choreography well. You’re anxious – have been for weeks now – and all you want is to lie down on the floor until everything is over.
Which, coincidentally, is what Lance has been doing for the last fifteen minutes, claiming he needed a break from Jungkook. Because Jungkook is worse than Hobi, making you repeat the choreography for stupid unnecessary things like Jiho’s hair was in her face or Scottie’s shirt rode too high while he was doing a certain move.
In May, when you learned about what happened to Jungkook, you had a few days of feeling bad for him. Wishing you didn’t get in a fight with him during that dance practice, wishing your relationship with him wasn’t just hateful.
It feels like there’s been too much history between you for it to ever change. Because you saw a glimpse of something else, for a few minutes that night. Jungkook was more open, calmer, and his expressions were set in a softer look. It was easier to be around him, more enjoyable, and you wished for a fleeting moment that it could last.
Alas, it only lasted a few minutes before he moved back to the harsh look he reserved for you, only because he assumed you were pitying him. Which, maybe you were. You don’t know. It’s hard to tell when you haven’t been through what he has, and when you can tell he suffers.
But you’re not sure if it’s pity or concern. You don’t think he can tell the difference either.
“Lance,” you grumble as you finish the choreography, heart beating out of your chest. “Get the fuck up we need you.”
Lance mumbles something incoherent, before turning his head away from where you’re glaring at him. It makes you look up to catch Jungkook’s gaze, and he immediately looks away the moment your eyes meet. He’s been doing that a lot now too. Where he used to glare at you or smirk insufferably, Jungkook just ignores you.
You don’t think you like it. But you’ve gotten used to it over the course of the last few weeks, so you just roll along with it now.
You’ve kept his secret safe. You thought it would be hard, especially to hide it from Jiho, but after a few days it just became normal. Jiho has more to tell you about Hobi anyway.
Because they’ve found time to go on dates every week since then. Sweet dates, with him picking her up and bringing her flowers and doing things that he knows make her happy. Even at dance practice, everyone can see how they are sickly into each other. You’re happy for Jiho, you really are, but it’s starting to feel a little lonely.
At least you’ve got Jo and the other girls now too. You’ve met the mysterious Kiko now – a sweet girl with the voice of an angel – and your girl’s nights with Jiho have turned into Thirsty Thursdays. You haven’t understood the meaning of the Thirsty yet, considering all of them are dating now, but you just roll along with it.
It’s led to fun nights, and that really is the only thing that matters, right?
Tonight makes no exception. Jiho, Heather and you have dance practice until 10 pm, and then you’re supposed to meet with the girls at a bar on their side of town. Which means you’re already dressed up, though you put on a sports skirt to avoid showing off your ass to the rest of the boys. Not that it would matter – Scottie is not interested in women at all, Lance only has eyes for Chaeyeon now, Hobi is way too respectful for that and Jungkook doesn’t even look at you anymore.
You scoff, glancing away from Jungkook to settle your gaze back on Lance. “Get up,” you repeat, before walking over to him to kick him in the ribs. “Or I’ll tell Chaeyeon how much of a loser you are.”
He fakes offence. “Me, a loser? Nah, we’re going to win this shit.”
The sudden confidence is a boost to everyone’s mood, and soon enough you’re back to dancing, with a much-needed vigor. It’s enough that Jungkook lets you go after you’ve done the choreographies two times more, telling everyone they did a good job.
“Same time Saturday,” he says.
You think you notice him looking at you in the mirror, but as soon as you turn your head in that direction he’s already glanced away, focusing himself on typing something on his phone.
“We know,” Lance says jokingly, before punching Jungkook in the shoulder.
Jungkook snickers, and he deadpans, “You were two hours late last week because you were too busy with your girlfriend”.
“Can’t blame me,” Lance says, shrugging his shoulders. “Chae comes first, the rest of you can suck it up.” It’s cute and endearing, and your heart feels warm as Lance glances your way. You have no idea what brings him to think of that, but he scans the whole room before suggesting, “We should rent a cottage. After the auditions. We should all get shitfaced for three days straight.”
Hobi laughs from where he’s standing next to Jiho. “Scottie is too young for that.”
“Hey, I’m twenty-two!” Scottie exclaims. “I can get shitfaced.”
“You’re a baby,” Heather puts in. “Just accept it. I refuse to acknowledge the fact you are major now.”
Scottie rolls his eyes, placing a sassy fist on his hip. “Then sucks to be you because I am, and I’m going to get shitfaced with Lance. Right?”
Lance has a large grin on his lips. “Damn fucking right.”
“As long as we get a cottage with a hot tub I’m in,” Jiho says innocently. Hobi cocks an eyebrow as he looks at her, as if he didn’t just say Scottie can’t go. “What?” Jiho adds, shrugging her shoulders. “A cottage weekend does sound like fun.”
It does. It really does. You haven’t gone to the countryside in years now, and you can already picture a cute, picturesque cottage on the side of a lake, with a long quay you can lie on and stargaze. The cottage has a fireplace, a circle of rock in the middle of which flames burn at night until they turn to embers and you roast marshmallows on it. You can almost feel the warmth of the hot tub, and the laughter of friends seems to almost overtake your ears…
Yeah, you’re due for a trip out of the city.
“I want marshmallows,” you say, sighing dreamily. “I haven’t had marshmallows since like…”
“Since the camping trip when we were thirteen? When Jisung got shit on by that seagull?”
You burst out laughing at the same time as Jiho does, right as the memory comes back to you. It had been a fun camping trip, with Jiho’s parents renting a camper. They had invited you along on their trip, and you had gone to the beach with them.
Good memories indeed.
Your laughter recedes, and you notice everyone is looking at you. Even Jungkook. His eyes are a little widened, as if he’s surprised, and there’s a light flush on his cheeks when he looks away.
It’s the strangest sight to see, and you’re unable to shake the feeling away while you get ready with Jiho later to rush to the bar where Jo and the others are already waiting for you. Jiho notices your unease as she applies your eyeliner.
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” you immediately say, way too fast for it to sound casual.
She just cocks an eyebrow and keeps applying the makeup. At least she has the decency to ignore the blush that creeps on your cheeks.
“It’s just…” you sigh, and turn your head when she starts to work on your second eye. “I don’t know.”
“Jungkook?”
You want to kill her for knowing you so well, so you remain silent, choosing peace over violence.
“I’m going to say something right now that might make you want to kill me,” Jiho says, lips pursed.
“I would advise not saying it,” you mumble and she playfully pats your cheek.
“Don’t move.” You pout, but obey nonetheless. She continues working in silence for a time, before saying, “I know about the accident”.
Your heart stops in your chest, and you’re pretty sure all colours have drained out of your features. You still try to play it cool, saying, “What accident?”
“February last year? Jungkook got injured, then ghosted us. Ring a bell?”
You can’t really pretend you don’t know what she’s talking about, can you? “How do you know?”
“Hobi told me,” she admits. “He made me promise to never talk about it, but he mentioned you knew already.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t blame you for not telling me,” she reassures you, having sensed your discomfort. “Actually, it tells a lot about your relationship with JK that you respected his decision.”
You scoff as she pulls the eyeliner away from your face, putting it down on her vanity to grab her La Neige lip tint. “My relationship with Jungkook? We’re not even friends.”
“Why though?”
It’s a good question that just pisses you off further. “Because he’s a dick. He told me about the accident and got angry at me for looking concerned and then he started ignoring me.” You chuckle bitterly. “It’s not like I’m going to try and make him talk to me. I don’t give a shit about him.”
Jiho is silent for a long time. Far too long for it to be normal. Like she doesn’t believe you at all and is waiting for you to realize. You’re just as stubborn, so you don’t say anything as she puts the lip tint on her pretty lips.
It makes for an awkward two minutes, but she’s the one that breaks first. “You don’t believe that.”
You furrow your brows. “Why the fuck would you say that?”
She laughs. Not in a mean way, probably just because your cheeks are burning and she believes she can read you like the back of her hand. “Because you don’t believe that.”
You fold your arms on your chest, sitting back in the chair she’s forced you to sit in while she did your eyeliner. You remain silent once again, clenching your jaw as you choose not to get upset. You’re not sure it works, and Jiho just playfully punches you on the shoulder.
“Calm down, babe,” she says. “He’s changed.”
“He’s still an ass with me,” you point out. “He’s changed with the rest of you guys, but he’s even worse with me. He’s been completely ignoring me for weeks.”
“Because he’s scared of what you think about him.”
“He doesn’t give a shit about what I think of him? He’s made that clear enough.” Jiho goes back to her infuriating silence. And you don’t want the conversation to keep going in that direction, so you ask, “How has it been going with Hobi anyway?”
She flushes red as she always does whenever Hobi is mentioned. “Do not think this conversation is over,” she says, threatening you with the lip tint bottle. “But it’s been…” She chuckles. “It’s been great. I think we’re pretty much official now.”
It’s disgustingly cute. It makes you think of Lance and Chaeyeon, of Heather and Bridget, Jo and Taehyung and Kiko and Yoongi…
It makes you feel lonely, like Lance did earlier. It’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to growing up, so it’s easy to let it slide over you instead of letting it fester inside.
“Look at you,” you say teasingly. “Who knew you’d pull your lifelong crush?”
“Lifelong?” she snickers. “I’ve had a crush on him for like two years.”
You throw a no-bullshit look her way.
“Okay maybe three…”
It makes you both laugh, and it diffuses the situation that was escalating just a moment ago. You’re relieved, because you’re pretty sure if she mentioned Jungkook just once more you would have blown up in her face.
You take shots downstairs with Jisung and Felix before going, and you giggle in the Lyft on the way to the bar the other girls chose. As per usual, you’re the two last to get there – fashionably late is the way to go, right?
It takes you way too long to realize girl’s night will in fact not be girl’s night. Yoongi is the first you notice, maybe because he’s looking at the exit when you walk in, as if he’s just waiting for the right time to bail. He nods as he sees you, and Kiko turns. She smiles her shy smile, the one that doesn’t show her teeth, and she nods as well, almost a copycat of her boyfriend.
Then it’s like a domino effect, and everyone turns to look at you. Nine pairs of eyes, all on you: Jin, Valeria, Taehyung, Jo, Bridget, Heather, Kiko, Yoongi and Jimin. The latter offers you a secretive smile.
You might have been texting him a little. Nothing serious, but he does appear in your dms once in a while, replying to a story you posted. You always decided to ignore him, only liking his replies, but tonight there’s something in the way Park Jimin is looking at you, sitting there, that makes something warm trickle down your spine.
Maybe because of your conversation with Jiho. It’s hard to tell, and your best friend pulls you towards the rest of the group before you can figure it out. The feeling only increases tenfold when you stop next to the table, and Jimin gets up to greet you, quickly followed by the others.
You hug everyone, and Jo holds you a second longer. “Sorry for inviting the rest, Tae begged and I figured…” You pull away from the hug, and she does have a sheepish look on her features. “Thirsty Thursday doesn’t mean no men?”
You laugh at that comment, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”
And really, you don’t mind. You like hanging out with them all. You’re relieved they didn’t think to invite Jungkook though, because one thing you’ve figured is that, where Jimin goes Jungkook usually follows.
The night starts off with talking and a few drinks with the group, until you find yourself intoxicated more than you have initially planned to. It doesn’t really matter – you have a day off tomorrow at the internship. Indeed, it only goes from Monday to Thursday, since the lawyer you follow takes the day off on Fridays for the whole of summer.
So you drink, and when they clear a spot for the dancefloor, you let Jiho pull you to it. Let her dance with you, like you usually do when you’re trying to get a guy’s attention. You reckon she’s drunker than you – she’s a giggly mess and she keeps stepping on your feet, which she never usually does. It’s fun, and you feel some anxiety peel away from your skin as if you’re an onion and someone’s about to cut you up to pieces.
You do feel like somebody is about to cut you up to pieces when Jimin moves closer to you, and the smirk on his lips sets something on fire inside of you. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. It doesn’t matter because you pull away from Jiho to move closer to him, almost instinctively.
It’s like he fits like a glove. You face him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him into the dance as his hands find your waist. One of them slips to your back, and he presses you against him as you move to the music, the rhythm a sensual dance between the two of you.
“Hello, you,” he purrs, and you look up at him.
“Hello,” you reply in the same tone, and he makes you spin until your back is facing him. He’s impossibly close and as his hands guide your hips, your eyes trail up.
You entirely stop moving when your gaze meets Jungkook. He’s standing near the door, clad in different clothes than earlier today, but in that same black shade he seems to adore. He also has a chain, with large links that give a rougher vibe to him.
The look on his features is rough too, especially as Jimin leans to speak into your ear. “I thought you might want to piss him off.”
You chuckle, turning your head to gaze at the man behind you over your shoulder. It brings your face way too close to his, and you have to resist the lava in your blood that makes you want to close the gap.
It’s the self-destructive kind of magma, and you don’t feel like indulging in it. Instead, you purr, “Why do you think I’d want to piss him off?”
Jimin chuckles, and you turn your head away from him because damn him, his lips really are inviting. “He’s been a little shit at home. I assume he’s been that way with you too.”
You laugh, and it’s bitter, angry. It surprises even you. “He’s been ignoring me.” You turn in Jimin’s arms, until you’re facing him. You keep your head hung low, enough so that he can’t lean down and press his lips against yours. Jimin is a gentleman though, you know he’d never kiss you without asking for consent first.
“Explains why he’s been a little shit then,” he says matter-of-factly. He straightens a little, putting a comfortable distance between your faces.
“And you think this little show is going to piss him off?”
He smirks, tilting his head to the side. All the while he’s been making you move to the music, and you know to outside gazes you look like you’re flirting. Can planning to piss Jeon Jungkook off count as flirting?
“Oh, I know it will,” Jimin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Jungkook wears his emotions on his face.”
Maybe he does. Around you, his emotion is usually mostly contempt, so you don’t really know.
“What do you gain from pissing him off?” you ask, and you genuinely wonder. What is Jimin trying to do?
“Nothing,” he admits. He purses his lips, before offering you yet another dashing smile. “Mostly I just want to see what he’ll do.”
Jimin pulls you a little closer, and his forehead presses against yours.
“What are you doing?” you murmur, as your heart beats like a hammer against your ribcage. Hell, even if you’re not really into Jimin like that, he’s Park Jimin. You don’t think anyone in their right mind could stay indifferent to him.
“He’s looking right now,” he replies. He chuckles, before saying, “Now, let me tell you what you’re going to do”. His lips move so close to you it feels as if your brain is short-circuiting in your head. “You’re going to act as if I’ve just offended you, and you go to the bathroom.”
“Why?”
“He’ll follow, and maybe he’ll finally…”
Jimin never finishes his sentence. Someone bumps into you, and it breaks the contact between you and him. Instead of pulling you back in, Jimin motions towards the bathroom, offering you an encouraging smile. You’re stunned for a moment, and you hope it does the trick. You hope you really do look offended, because in truth, you were enjoying Jimin’s proximity.
You don’t like that you were. It feels like you shouldn’t be enjoying his proximity at all. He’s not even really your friend anyway.
You don’t have a choice but to follow his advice though, and you turn around, beelining straight to the bathroom. You make your way through the crowd, scrunching up your nose in disgust at the sweaty guy your hand accidentally touched, and a few seconds later you finally find the line to the bathroom.
It’s a unisex bathroom, with three stalls that are currently all occupied. There’s a guy in front of you, and you glare at him as he smiles at you. He frowns, but it works and he turns back around. A stall frees up a little under a minute later, and you’re mindlessly watching a girl washing her hands when a large hand finds the small of your back.
You startle, and you turn around fully ready to knock some sense into whoever it is, until you see it’s Jungkook.
You freeze for a few seconds, and then let out a laugh as you realize whatever Jimin was doing worked.
“You and Jimin, uh,” Jungkook says bitterly, and his hand clenches into a fist where it falls at his side.
You cock your head to the side. “So you’re talking to me now?”
He plays with his piercing in silence, before scoffing. “I was never not talking to you.” You widen your eyes and let out a disbelieved laugh as you fold your arms on your chest. “I’m serious,” he adds. “I just…”
“Don’t even try to explain, Jeon, save your oxygen.”
He’s frowning now, and you reckon he probably has the same expression on his features that you have on yours. “I thought you said you weren’t going to flirt with Jimin.”
“That was over a month ago,” you point out. “People change, unless you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I know,” he says, chuckling bitterly. “But Jimin? There are dozens of guys in this bar, can’t you just choose someone else to fuck?”
You’re starting to see red. You feel it in the tremble that starts deep down in your core, before taking over the whole of your body. “I’m not going to fuck Jimin. He’s just a friend.”
“You dance with all of your friends like that?”
You turn away from him, hoping one of the stalls will be free now, but you’re in no luck. He grabs your arm, forcing you to turn back around. Your eyes drop to his hand on your arm. His fingers are gentle, way gentler than his features. “Fucking let go of me,” you snap. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t know what part of getting into an accident made you want to act like you’re just a fucking victim of everything around you but my life has nothing to do with yours. Why do you fucking care?”
He looks stunned. “I… What?”
His confusion douses your fury, and you furrow your brows. “What do you mean, what?”
“I don’t care.”
You don’t know who he is trying to convince right now. And you don’t feel like getting to the bottom of it with him. In fact, you really don’t like the look on his face, and you just want to put distance between you and him. So you roll your eyes, before saying, “Alright then, leave me alone, Jeon. I won’t dance with Jimin again.”
He doesn’t even look happy or relieved that you’re saying that. Instead, his features fall a little, moving from a frown to a sad expression that makes something stir in your chest. “I… If you want to get with Jimin, you can.”
Now, you really are confused. “You come here to be a little bitch about this all and now you’re saying it’s fine?”
He pulls at his piercing, and his eyes flicker to the man that walks past you, indicating that a stall must be free now. “Yeah. If that’s what you want, who am I to tell you not to do it?”
You don’t know. You have no idea how the conversation managed to take this turn, so you wet your lips, cocking an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I…” he trails off, shrugging his shoulders. “I was being a dick. You’re right, I should stop acting like I’m a fucking victim.”
Now, your heart really does ache in your chest. Because what you said was inconsiderate, and you don’t even really mean it. Not the way that he interpreted it though, that’s for sure.
“Jungkook…”
“No, it’s really okay,” he says. He still looks sad, but he offers you a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry.”
Just like that he’s walking away, and why are you following him? You stop him by grabbing his arm, just like he did to you a moment ago. You hold on to him longer than he did to you, because his skin is warm under your fingers. His tattoos didn’t take away the softness of his skin, and you don’t really want to let him go. Not just yet.
“I didn’t mean it.” You look him in the eyes as he turns just enough so that his gaze can meet yours. “I got angry.”
“No but you’re right,” he insists. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know why I don’t like you talking to Jimin. You can do whatever you want.”
You let his arm go, albeit reluctantly. “If it can reassure you, I am not interested in Jimin like that. Like yes, he’s attractive, but I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”
At that Jungkook laughs. It’s somehow melancholic, and you reckon you’ve brought his demons to the forefront of his mind tonight. “Jimin-hyung doesn’t do relationships, you’re in luck.”
“No,” you grumble, and you shut your eyes, as if you have to explain something to a thick-headed five years old. “I’m really not interested in Jimin. Like at all.” Your eyelids flutter open, and you catch the movement of Jungkook’s eyes as they snap away from you.
“Okay,” he lets out flatly. “I’m sorry I ruined it.”
He looks genuine. You’d be angry at him if he didn’t really look as genuine as he does right now.
“Nothing’s ruined, I promise,” you reassure him and you offer him a small smile. “I was tired of dancing anyway.”
The word ‘dancing’ has his gaze trail to the dancefloor, and he bites at his piercing before glancing back at you. “Oh.”
You realize this is awkward. Because what you said really seems to have upset Jungkook. And you can’t really blame him, it was low. The only thing is, you’re not close enough to him to make him understand. So all you can do when he says he’s going to head home is wish him goodnight.
You feel horrible as you watch him leave, and he’s only just crossed the doors leading to the world outside when you break into a small jog. You make it outside in a hurry, just to see he’s leaning against the wall next to the door.
He seems startled to see you, and you feel just as startled to see he hasn’t really left yet.
“I was wondering,” you let out, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Are you going to come to the cottage? You didn’t say you would earlier.”
You have no idea why that’s come to your mind, but you’re just going to roll with it.
“Uh.” He glances down at his phone in his hand. “Am I even invited?”
You wet your lips, shrugging. “I mean, you’re part of the crew, of course you are.”
He holds your gaze for so long you think the Earth has time to revolve around the sun once before he speaks again. “Am I really part of the crew?”
You reckon he might need to hear it, so you don’t hesitate when you say, “Of course. We’d be nothing without you.”
At that the sad expression on his features melts away. It does so slowly, starting with his eyes. They crinkle at the corners, sparkling a little, and then it trickles down his face, until the corners of his lips tug upwards. It makes you smile too, and you just gaze at each other like that for a few heartbeats. It feels intimate, miles away from the usual bickering and hatred that you share.
It’s new, but it doesn’t feel scary. Jungkook doesn’t feel scary when he’s smiling softly.
“Yes, I’ll come,” he finally says.
It makes you blink, and it’s like the scene is coming back into focus. You realize there are a couple of people smoking a few meters away, and a soft breeze pushes the smoke towards you. You hate the smell, but somehow you can’t shake the smile from your lips.
“Good.” You nod once, and you glance towards the door. “I guess… I guess I’ll let you go home then.”
He nods too, and he tilts his head to the side. He’s surveying you with those big eyes of his. They shine with stars right now, as if his happiness brings the constellations to his gaze. Or maybe it’s just the reflection from the streetlights and car headlights, but it’s beautiful.
Jungkook has beautiful eyes.
“Just waiting for a Lyft,” he says, motioning up with his phone.
You worry at your lips, before flattening your skirt mindlessly. “Is it going to be here anytime soon?”
He looks at the rectangle of light, face falling serious. It takes him a few seconds, but then he nods. “Yep. Should pull up pretty much now.”
You glance at the two sides of the street, and sure enough a car slows down until it stops in front of you. “Alright then,” you say. “Good night, Jeon.”
You don’t usually say his last name like you said it just now. It feels different, in all the right ways that it can.
“Good night,” he echoes, tentatively adding your name at the end. “I’ll see you at practice Saturday?”
“Yes. See you then.”
You’re grinning like an idiot when you’re home later, thinking of the interaction. It felt refreshing to be with Jungkook like that. As if you can be friends.
You never imagined you would want to be friends with him, but somehow tonight you want it. It only doubles up when a series of texts appears on your screen, hiding the top part of the anime you’re watching in bed before going to sleep.
[3:02 am] unsaved number: lmaooi jmin saud i cockblocled him😂
[3:02 am] unsaved number: cockblocked*
[3:02 am] unsaved number: sry im drunk
You laugh softly, turning on your back as you pause the anime. You go to the conversation, and you’re about to reply when he adds,
[3:03 am] unsaved number: plz ignorr this
You don’t hesitate when you save his number under his name.
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What do we think of this chapter?? Enemies to lovers not too enemies anymore uh? Hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts 2023. Please do not copy, repost or translate.
Taglist: (strike-through means dumblr is not letting me tag you my bad)
@chimchimmarie | @pamzn | @sugaluvmyg | @tearyjjeon | @jkclouds | @libra04 | @parkinglot-nights | @ggukieasy | @omnomnomtron | @jichimx | @synnfulqt | @leedoesntknaur | @pornichett | @melodiesforari | @oopscoop | @nadzzzblog | @amylouisecullen
#thebtswritersclub#the forgotten spaces ch 4#the forgotten spaces#jjk#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jungkook#jungkook fanfiction#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook fanfiction#jeon jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook fic#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook angst#jeon jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x you
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HI! I really wanted to send you a request back and I’ve had this idea for awhile, (I’m pretty sure you’re reqs are open 😭) Ashe has obviously known Cassidy longer than anyone and probably has tons of stories, I feel like she’d so share them to reader after they got together just to embarrass cass. THANK YOU IF YOU DO THIS
☁︎ — rain's notes: NORI HELLO OMH SHAKES YOUR HAND. I had closed them fairly recently, however, because it's you and I fell in love with your writing, I'm making you the exception. Let's make this yee-yee ass boy embarrassed like he deserves!
☁︎ — rain's notes v2: THIS MIGHT'VE BEEN SHORTER THAN ANTICIPATED. I AM SORRY IF THAT IS THE CASE
"I can't catch a break! The hell kinda double teamin' is this?"
(he's an angry little dog boy)(y'know how a dog hears it's name and it just stares)(that's him)
Cole Cassidy and an embarrassment trip down memory lane with his. Very good friend and totally not ex-friend who wants to smack him into the wall, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe. Reader gets a juicy earful
Notes: GN!Reader; Embarrassed Cole; Ashe is a menace and we adore that shit for real; Totally not me tryna wing out some stories from my whack as fuck brain; Reader is gonna embarrass him too by asking for more 🙏
What's not to love about your lovely hunk of junk's life. No seriously, he's told you stories—regardless of how long you've dated him—so you definitely marvel over his whole life. Or comfort him when he discusses some painful shit. Y'know, needed approaches. But for the most part, it's good reminiscing.
So you can imagine the surprise when you two, in a bar(whether you do or do not drink, y'all just there), are greeted by a woman. Either A, you know who this is, or B, you can assume who rhis is from Cole's flashbacks. You're right either way, as this is the same Elizabeth Ashe he mentioned time and time again. Surely you're up and ready to tussle with a woman to defend your man.
Actually she's really calm in this moment. No, she's mad at Cole definitely. It ain't easy feelings being around the boy. But rather than shoot him upside the head, she decides to have a little fun. Y'know, fun as in asking who you are and such. For such an intimidating woman, Ashe is giving you a lot of respect. In her mind she's like, "How the fuck? Alright, hope [reader] has fun I guess." Anyways, once getting to know you a bit, Cole notices it.
Oh no, he notices it. He's sweating. Oh no, Ashe knows you. Oh no, no, n—
"Ya wanna know some old stories about Cassidy from when he was younger? I ain't gonna fight him in front of you, so I'll embarrass him instead."
She's like the snobby(VERY COOL) older sister who wants to beat his ass. Suddenly you're nodding your head aggressively and Cole smacks his forehead onto the bar's countertop. Is this what Cole expected to do on his lovely Saturday with you at a bar? Not exactly. Much less have old memories of him resurface that would make him cringe and would make you mischievously smile.
Call it a fate worse than death by an old friend!
Some bit of conversation between you and Ashe is joyful— talks of how Cole ended up laughing so hard once that he ended up choking on his own spit after a rather successful heist in their past. Cole just frowns like an angry dog, repetitive "Shut up"s leaving his mouth while Ashe keeps talking.
She also mentions Cole was more or less clumsy in some cases, and on more than one occasion, ended up with cactus spines in him. I don't think Ashe expects you to laugh as hard as you do, as you repeatedly whack your fist on the bar counter while begging for something to give you breath so you can keep living.
Cole internally begs that you don't bring up the moment when he sat on a cactus. It's a mild blessing you're laughing too hard, honestly.
You clutch your chest in a fit of laughter as Cole groans and covers his burning face. Ashe laughs alongside you, holding you steady so you don't topple from the high chair you're sitting in. The entire time you've known Cole, he's always been this charming(and relatively easy-to-charm), super skilled and focused man—even with your own experiences with him of being a little less that and a lot more goofy or clumsy or something similar—yet hearing from someone else that he's had his fair share of childhood embarrassment is absolutely golden. Pure unmatched comedy that makes tears escape your eyes as you finally regain your life.
You look at Cole as you wipe your eyes and sniffle. "You're telling me that you caught Cole alone, singing and dancing to himself, and he didn't notice for five minutes?"
Cole's face gets redder as he mumbles some curse under his breath. Ashe laughs a little herself, the whiskey settling in a little more that makes her just loose enough. "Hips were in it and everything— and it was raw and unfiltered and...I think a part of my soul died that day, honestly."
Cole rolls his eyes. "Like you're any better!"
You snicker good-naturedly as hold onto his arm, patting his back. "I'm sure it was—" you're interrupted by a snicker from yourself as you can't stop imagining a fifteen year old Cole just having his own performance, "—a beautiful sight to behold, Cole. I'd like to get tickets to a live show one day, if they're still open."
"Discontinued forever." Cole grumbles, but can't help but smile a tiny bit as you kiss his cheek as an apology for being amused by his own little embarrassing moments.
You turn your head back to Ashe as you smile. "You got any more?"
Ashe smirks joyfully as Cole, quite literally, whines. "Ya wanna hear 'bout the time he kicked...think it was a soccer ball or somethin', but he kicked it so hard at a wall that the recoil made it hit him in the stomach?"
You happily smile and nod. Cole yells no and is now verbally pleading for mercy. Yeah, Ashe found this way more entertaining than beating his ass.
#🌧️requested#overwatch#overwatch x reader#cole cassidy#cole cassidy x reader#cassidy overwatch#overwatch cassidy#overwatch cassidy x reader#hes a cringe ass nae nae baby but we love him for it#elizabeth caledonia ashe#ashe overwatch#overwatch ashe#its not a ship between you three y'all just bullying him#<-that note is for the people viewing the tags
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