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#like i haven’t seen them in months and i know they’re kidding but they just kept saying it over and over
hotchfiles · 3 days
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↪ day twelve. dinner party stories — #marchhotchness
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [family line] ❞
pairing: hotchner x fem!reader. summary: he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it. or: aaron shows what the unconditional love of a family should be like. content warnings: not proofread, a lot of family issues brought up, weight gain mention (negatively once, then positively), reader's parents being annoying and kind of mean. word count: 2.4K
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aaron sees it in your eyes, in your breathing, in the way you move. he sees it in the way you’ve been playing more with your necklace and by how you can’t seem to stop spinning your engagement ring around your finger. he hasn’t seen you this anxious in months, and back then you were working on finishing your dissertation and it collided with the company you worked at losing clients, it was chaos. he knew right now there was no chaos in sight, so it could only mean one thing. 
“honey, did you speak to your parents recently?” his voice is always as soft as a feather when talking to you, even in the rare instances you argue. 
you turn from the scrabble pieces and set your wine glass down, not minding the interruption to the cozy game when his voice sounded like that and his eyes looked at you like you were something so precious you could break. 
“no, babe, why d’you ask?” 
“you’re fidgeting like an hyperactive kid who hasn’t been put on ritalin yet lately.” his explanation catches you off guard in a way that you almost reprehend him saying his name in a high pitched voice and slapping his arm in between laughter. his smirk shows you just how accomplished he feels that he made you laugh like that. 
aaron takes both of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and urging you to talk with him just by the way he looked into your eyes, eagerly waiting for you to vent about what was making you so restless. 
“i haven’t told them about the engagement yet. i want to have them over for dinner, to share the news but they are so…” you sigh profoundly, looking up to the ceiling trying to finish that though in a way that made sense. “difficult.” 
aaron knows what difficult really means. it means patronizing. it means unsupportive. unwilling. unhelpful. it doesn’t mean unloving, but it means old fashioned in a way that it feels unloving. “we could have dinner in a nice restaurant instead, to ease up some of that pressure.” he suggests, always the problem solver. 
“it would be perfect, handsome, but we did that last time…” your voice trails off, laying your head on his lap, urging him to gently pass his fingers through your hair by that act alone, cozying up to him in an attempt to ignore the problem at hand. 
hotch follows your lead, not forgetting to place a kiss on your forehead, but also, not letting the problem go. “and my dear future mother in law will start dropping hints again that we don’t want them here.” you nod quietly. “alright. don’t call. text her inviting them over with the details. less talking.” 
you groan, “she will complain about that too…”
“once they’re here.” he kisses your forehead, “so it’s only one,” and your nose, “night,” your right cheek, “of,” your left cheek, and you’re already grinning like an idiot, holding in your laughter at his boyishness, “complaining.” aaron finishes, brushing his lips against yours. you nod and pull your head up slightly, finally connecting you two in a sweet slow kiss.
you get your big girl pants on after a delicious making out session with your fiance, the scrabble pieces long forgotten as you gulp down your whole glass of wine and pick up your phone. his hair is messy, his cheeks are flushed and he grins at you with reassurance pouring from his sweet eyes as you send your mother the text, throwing your phone back to the table before seeing a response and going back straight to his arms.
he made it easier, always. helped you sort your feelings out, helped you find out the less stressing way to solve your problems. it was a joy to have him, to watch how he talked to jack and see how it should be.
more often than you would like to admit, you caught yourself thinking wow my parents would not let that slide, and then you would be faced with the reality that they were in the wrong, not aaron.
you talked to him about it once, asked how could he be so sweet and so effortlessly so to jack, his answer came quickly, no hesitation: jack had lost enough, losing his trust on his dad was not something aaron would let happen, he didn’t want jack to go through what he had as a child.
then it clicked to you once more, how you would never want to treat your hypothetical children like you had been treated too. 
you try not to think too much about these things too often nowadays, but even as you laid on aaron’s chest and felt his fingers lightly, softly, trace designs on your skin, now all you could think about was the damned dinner.
your mom wasn’t too judgy when it came to what you cooked, your dad was and annoyingly so, always had some remark about what would have made the food better, just like he did to your mother back home. 
so first thing you did the next morning was think through all dinners and remarks and find something you could do following his tips to lessen the complaining, aaron’s idea, of course. 
“he always says my lasagna is delicious but too dry,” you mumble to yourself, but not really, you have your earphones on and aaron on call, in the office doing reports he was able to entertain you as you picked up ingredients for extra sauce.
you can hear him smiling, the sound of his aggressive pen on paper stopping for a second, “even rossi loves your lasagna, it is delicious. just give your father a bowl full of sauce, he will be happier.” you snort and he goes back to his papers, satisfied to have made you laugh through the stress.
gathering the rest of the ingredients is easy enough, you’re already used to the grocery store’s layout and setup, you keep him on the line either way, a tradition you both kept whenever you were doing monotonous tasks, even when he didn’t speak, listening to his breathing, the shuffling of papers and his pen quickly making work through all his reports made you smile, calmed you down.
hotch thought it was silly at first, but quickly warmed up to it when he heard you softly,  secretive so, humming songs to yourself as you worked on your own reports, or went shopping, not to mention how adorable he found you to be when you forgot he was on the line and jumped scared as he spoke something.
most of all, he loved being immersed in a paper trail and being surprised by a hey i love you right in his ear as if you were there.
it pained him to know how much of yourself you tried to mute down to please your parents when he loved every single tiny piece of what made you… you.  
hotch excused himself from the call to talk to rossi just as you were about to go back home, satisfied you convinced him to get rossi’s sauce recipe. 
“hers is great, why does she need mine?” rossi sound almost exasperated, as if hotch himself had said something about your cooking. he is quick to reassure that’s not the case and explain how you’re trying to please your father, dave doesn’t seem that much happier about it, always pleased with the dishes you made for dinner parties at his mansion, but he still takes his phone and sends you a voice note explaining each step of his homemade tomato sauce. “anything else?”
“i need a favor as well. i’m gonna need the next weekend off for this.” hotch begins, he knows rossi would never mind that, no one would, in fact most people from the bureau agreed he needed time off. “i know myself enough, i need to be completely off, no calls, no briefings.” he’s learnt his lesson from too many past mistakes, if he knows the case, if he knows the team needs him, he will be putting his job above anything else, aaron can’t afford to do that anymore, so he prevents it. 
his left thumb rubs the side of his index finger, his way to calm his racing thoughts, just the possibility of ruining this dinner has him anxious, this little habit of his was something he hadn’t even noticed he did before he met you. it was one of his tells and he never realized before you took his hand in yours and looked sweetly into his eyes saying you’re stimming, what’s wrong? in the softest tone he had ever heard anyone speak to him. 
you were always quick to notice if anyone around you didn’t feel well, always a caretaker, it was a sight to take in and a pain to prove you so, being seen as selfish your whole life at home. 
that day he got home late, jack was doing his homework with your help while you worked on a few things on your laptop—a presentation you needed to finish soon as possible to get the next friday off. 
his office had become a shared office with your help, a u shaped desk where both of you could work being one of the first changes you made to it as soon as you moved in, it was perfect and it gave jack space to sit close to either of you when he needed help.
the sides faced the walls while and front faced the window where you and jack sat, focused, it gave hotch time to lean in the door frame and watch you both.
“i’m not sure about that one, jack-jack…” you stop typing to read the question in his book again, impressed with how little you remember of school math. “if i google this up, promise not to tell your teacher?” aaron clears his throat at the question, catching your attention and making you laugh: caught in the act. 
“no google, buddy, sorry.” jack scrunches his nose at his father’s ruling out, a loud groan coming from his pre teen little voice. 
“told ya we should have started this earlierrrr—“ you tease the boy, insinuating you two would have been able to find the answer online without his dad knowing then, you ruffle his short hair softly, loving the endearing smile he always gives you when you do that.
his smile quickly turns into a yawn, the weight of the time stamped on aaron’s watch getting to jack’s eyes, “i’m sleepy.” 
“‘you can finish tomorrow, let’s get you two to bed, buddy.” 
hotch picks jack up and the young hotchner is nothing but a ball of giggles, always saying he’s too big for that now, but obviously still loving the attention. 
“enjoy while you can, jack-jack, your old man is not getting any younger.” 
“yeah? i’m carrying your ass to bed soon too, my back can handle you both for years still.” you and jack both laugh at him. it’s always almost as if a harsh mask melted when he got home, in its place would remain his soft features and the bickering you loved so dearly. 
it was warm. and kind. even when he came back home stressed, you never had to worry about accidentally setting him off or saying the wrong thing. it was a completely different dynamic than what you were used to. 
it takes a few minutes for hotch to come back, but he comes ready to make true of his promise, hands straight to your waist to carry you, tickling his way into your defenses, he laughs at your laughter and at how easy you melt to his touch. “i’m just finishing this up, babyy—“ your voice is purposefully whiny, pouting at him and getting a kiss in return, “go eat your dinner while i do it, i heated it up when i got your text!”
he stops trying to pull you up his shoulder or around his waist then, the look he gives you then reminds you of why you fell for him: sweet like caramel, always betraying his known frown. 
aaron looks at you like every act of kindness you do makes him fall in love again, and it does. he traces your features with his thumb in silence, the mix of his calloused fingers and the softness of his actions makes you sigh, leaning into it.
“i love you. i love our little family.” he kisses your forehead and leaves you to your presentation before you can even reply, before you can’t even tell him the two hotchner boys are the first healthy family you’ve ever been in.
you don’t even mind your dad complaining about your lasagna having way too much sauce the week after. aaron eats for the both of them, compliments every single decision you made while cooking.
the second your mother tells you you’ve been gaining weight, aaron replies with a simple “if anything, we’re both getting bigger and happier.” a squeeze tight to your knee, stopping you from tearing up at how that was the only thing your mother did notice.
they seemed happy about the engagement, but not too sure you’ll be able to care for him and his child as they needed to be cared for. you’re forgetful. you’re not maternal. you worry about work too much.
you’re not even sure how good news could lead to such rambling about your flaws but again, before you can either cry or lose control and yell—aaron comes in, his soft smile being completely betrayed by his furrowed brows and stern tone. he’s trying to be polite. “we take care of each other well, and together we care for jack. it works. we work.”
it’s simple but effective, what he wants is to shield you, to tell them how lucky they are you grew up as kind and hardworking when all they did was bring you down and doubt your feelings and your dreams.
he wants to show them drawings jack made of you and essays he wrote about his family. 
but for now he settles on being polite. there’s still the whole wedding preparation and the actual wedding to go through. he has time to do all that. right now he just makes sure to show you and them how much he supports you and how nothing they can ever say will change how he sees you. 
at least he’s glad his mother is dead, one less problematic in law to deal with.
he snickers when he secretly whispers you that and you’re sure this is the family you were born to be after all, it just took you a little while to find it.
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scientia-rex · 2 days
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I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.
I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.
It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.
I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.
Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.
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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months
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common tongue of you lovin' me
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🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut
🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader
wc: 2.5k 
content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
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foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
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By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 
________
guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 
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sloaneispunk · 17 days
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“Too sweet”
dbf!joel x you
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joel miller, you knew joel when you were younger, all you could remember was that he left before he really did make an impact in your life. you didn’t remember much of him while growing up, it was just a passing thing, you thought.
that all changed when joel decided to come back years later.
( p.s. guys, this is a whole ass story but i think you’ll like it )
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Part One
“honey, come help me set the table.” your father asked from the kitchen as you raced from your room.
“i’m here. whatd’ya need help with?” you said.
today was the start of the holiday break for everyone, it was also a special tradition for your dad to host a barbecue for all the family mutuals to gather ‘round, and exchange life stories on the past months.
“dad, why do we have this every year? i don’t even know half these people. they’re like twice my age.” you groaned, spreading the table mat smoothly on the wooden table.
“you’ll have fun, plus sarah’s comin’ it’s a good time to catch up with her. you haven’t seen each other for like-what? 6 years?”
“i don’t even think she remembers me.”
“oh, she does, honey. i bet mr. miller misses you too. you remember him?”
oh.
oh?
joel miller?
then, you were briefly interrupted by the quickened knocks on your door. “go on, dear, i’ll get the door.” your father instructed.
indistinct conversations were heard as more and more people walked through the door, being warmly invited in by your father. most of them weren’t foreign faces, majority had been over before for these family events.
as you were placing the cartons of beer on the table, a tough hand came to swoop the alcohol in your hands away.
“hey, i was just-”
“hiya, darlin’ ” the man said, cutting you off.
you looked up at the man, expecting an old menacing pervert friend of your dad’s.
“hey…” you replied, not sparing him from a very obnoxious suspicious look.
he must have sensed the unsettling feeling you had and immediately made up for it. “i’m sorry, darlin’, where are my manners?” he chuckled, “i’m mr. miller, i didn’t think you’d forget me that easy.”
“oh… hey mr. miller. yeah, no sorry, i didn’t recognise you at all.” you managed to breathe out, breath getting all caught up in your throat.
joel flashed you a smile, shaking his head in disbelief. “don’t tell me i’ve aged that bad, makin’ me feel old, kid.”
old? how old was he?
“yeah, it’s been a while, mr. miller. you look great though.”
he did. joel miller had aged like fine wine. ash gray coating his brown locks perfectly, his honey-brown eyes reflected by the sunlight that beamed through the window, face perfectly sculpted, leaving him looking like a greek god.
joel took a swipe at his beer, chugging the alcohol down before he shot you a reply. “really? i’m already 53, didn’t think you had somethin’ for this old man.” he joked.
you nearly choked at that. “you look pretty too, darlin’, really pretty. look out for yourself tonight, many other men around, wouldn’t want them to be seein’ya like this.” he said, pointing to your sundress that you had on specially for tonight’s barbecue.
after that, you lingered in the words he said even as he walked out, heading outside to join your father and his friends.
“holy shit… joel miller is hot.” you muttered out to yourself, gathering what was left of your dignity, pacing around the house to trace your thoughts.
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Part Two
you thought hard about what joel said, sure you wanted to look your best, but he did have a point. but was there something else to it? was he jealous?
you threw over a sweater before heading outside, joining the rest of your family as they ate and talked to the others.
it was mainly boring but the thing that got you going through the evening were the quick glances that you swore you got from joel. it was subtle, but obvious enough for only you to notice.
“y/n? oh my god, is that really you?” a high pitched squeal came from a distance, making you whip your head around.
“sarah! it’s been so long!” you greeted the girl as she wrapped her arms around you. “holy shit, you’re all grown up!”
“i could say the same thing about you, look at you, jesus, you look amazing.” she gawked. “oh- dad! it’s y/n! can you believe it?”
your eyes grew wide. not again… just as fast as sarah appeared, joel was immediately pulled next to her, the pair now standing in front of you as you flashed them an awkward smile.
do you ignore him? play it cool?
“right… hey, kid. haven’t seen ya in a long time, how are ya?” joel asked.
it was as if he hadn’t been flirting with you in the kitchen earlier. what was going on?
“y-yeah, hi, i’m great.” you replied, a frown upon your face, glancing at sarah for “help”
“oh! janette is here! you two catch up, i’ll come back later!” sarah exclaimed, leaving you two behind.
you honestly didn’t know what to say or do. why was joel acting so strange?
“want a drink, babygirl?” when you gave him an uncertain look, his gaze softened, “c’mon i’ll get’ya one.”
you followed joel closely behind back to the house, accepting his offer of the beer that he had in his hands.
“so… just thought you should know, me and sarah are moving back here.” he said, handing you a cold bottle from the fridge.
‘yeah, thanks. like this isn’t my house’ you thought.
“oh, really? where’d you go all these years, actually?” you asked, settling down on the table seat, hand under your chin as if joel was telling you a very intriguing story, wide eyed as you waited for his answer.
“had a contracting job a few states away, your father was practically bribing me to stay but you know…”
“so you’re done? with the contracting work?”
“not really, just moved the business back here for your daddy.”
daddy, huh.
“that’s cool.” you sighed, taking a swipe at the beer before nearly puking it all out. “ew, what is this?” you choked out.
joel laughed a little before he swooped to your side, his hands rubbing up and down your back, helping you to steady your breathing after nearly choking to death.
his touch was hot on your skin, even through the sweater. yoy could feel all your senses tingling and all you could feel now was joel.
joel joel joel joel joel…
“your daddy must’ve gotten it, it does taste a little funny.” he joked.
a moment of silence filled the room, it wasn’t awkward or anything like that, in fact, it was comforting. at that moment, all you could feel, hear, smell and think about was joel miller, your dad’s best friend, within centermeters from you, touching you.
then, his hand started to travel up from your back, slowly tracing the soft fabric of your sweater all the way up to your shoulder, giving them a gentle squeeze before catching your hair between his fingers.
“what’re you doing?” you whispered, voice barely coming out as a whisper as your eyes glued onto his hand.
“nothin’, darlin’. you’re just really pretty…” joel replied, “thank you for covering up, i’m a selfish old bastard, i know.”
“it’s okay, thank you for looking out for me.” you said, tearing your gaze from his hand to his face now, seeing his big doe eyes staring down at you already. joel could still feel your breath fanning the top of his hand, sucking in at the way he was so easily getting aroused by you.
but this was wrong.
joel was aware of the line that he was going to cross if this continued, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. with one last soft finger, he tapped our nose lightly, making you scrunch up your face.
“i-” you hesitated saying something to joel, stopping him in his tracks. “nothin’” joel nodded and he walked out of the room, slamming the fromt door shut leaving you behind again.
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Part Three
It was weeks after the barbecue and things had went back to normal. it was rather boring this year, you had nothing to really occupy yourself with. most of the times you were just huddled in the comfort of your room, if not, you were out shopping for the sake of it.
for joel however, it has been the craziest few weeks. his mind was racing every second of the day, it used to be work that took up his time, but now, it was you.
joel was obsessed.
he craved you, he wanted to feel the warmth of your skin on his hands again. but it was more than just skin deep, there was an aura that bloomed all around you, you were bubbly, kind and sweet. too sweet for an old man like him.
but that didn’t stop him from imagining. he imagined your hands on him whenever he was alone. how they would feel compared to his, the softness, the gentleness of a girl he was twice the age of, his best friend’s perfect little girl
at nights when sarah was deep asleep, he often found himself jacking off to the thought of you.
‘that’s it baby, you like it when daddy’s best friend is balls deep in ya?’
‘good girl darlin’, takin’ me so well’
the profanities slipping past his lips as he came twice as fast as he normally would. a grown man like him would have probably lost his vigor but oh no, he would come three, even four times if he had it in him that day.
in simple words, he was obsessed. he was crazy about you, and he didn’t know why
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Part Four
about a month had passed and it was like deja vu, you were back in the kitchen, setting up the dinner table for guests to come over.
but this time, the only “guests” were sarah and joel.
“dad, don’t serve that beer please.” you groaned, placing an overdramatic hand over your head. “one, it tastes horrible, and two, i really wouldn’t like to be in a room of two men who are drunk before 8pm hits.”
“too bad, hon’, mr. miller and i are getting drunk. it’s a holiday.” your dad let out a hearty laugh.
then, dinner ensued, your dad and mom were sitting opposite each other, sarah and joel on the opposite side of the table you were on. even though joel was only residing nearby your house, he arrived with a white button up with casual jeans, and damn he looked good.
“so, sarah, how’s the boyfriend?” your mother questioned the girl, making her grow wide eyed, slapping joel on the arm.
“you told them?!”
joel just shrugged, obviously enjoying the ongoing conversation.
“he’s fine, we’re just taking it really slow… how ‘bout you, y/n? is there a lucky guy yet?” sarah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you, making you slightly rolling your eyes
“no…”
joel’s eyes lit up like a lightbulb.
“…but i do have a date later.”
‘you had a what?!’ joel thought, briefly choking on his beer.
“later? hon’ you didn’t tell us anything about a date?” you father asked.
“slipped my mind, but we’re just going out for drinks, it’ll be really quick.” you replied, gaze avoiding joel’s even though you could feel him burning a hole through you with the way that he was staring.
“anyway, how’s the move going?” you tried to change the topic, avoiding the unpleasant conversation.
you felt bad, you did. but you knew that joel would never look at you the way you looked at him, you knew he saw it as more of a geniune care and adoration towards you than a lust or sinful want. to distract yourself, you had agreed to go on a date with a friend of yours. just to get your mind of the man you truly wanted.
it was about half past 8 when you took your leave, politely excusing yourself from the table to prepare to head out.
“don’t be back too late, sweetie!” your father called out as you took a last look into the mirror, smoothing your hair out before you left the house.
“i won’t, love you!”
at the bar, you didn’t know what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t this. your date was so self absorbed he fed off any kinds of attention he got.
“no way, did you see how the bartender looked at me?”
“she practically touched my hand, like, she might as well give me her phone number at this point.”
‘god, this guy was insufferable’
just then, a familiar figure approached the two of you, it was joel. how did he know you were here? and what was he doing here?
“hey, darlin’, ready to go home?” he asked, his southern accent coating his every word as you just sat and stared.
“what?”
“your daddy wants you home right now, babygirl.” he replied, draping a hand over your shoulder almost protectively.
you got the hint from joel and hopped out of your seat, his hands grabbing your waist, helping you down.
“i’ll uh, see you tomorrow?” the poor boy who once was your date a few minutes ago now looked deflated, you pitied him but, god, you didn’t want to spend any longer with his self-absorbed ass.
before you got the chance to say goodbye, joel yanked you out of the bar, the cool air faded from around you as you stepped into the warmth of the carpark.
“what’re you doing joel? i was having fun!” you said to the older man as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.
“yeah, sure you were, darlin’ ” he scoffed, opening the door of his truck, lifting you up with ease onto the passenger seat next to his.
you tried to protest but he was basically manhandling you, strapping you in tightly before he shut the truck door, heading to the driver’s side, settling in.
“if you really wanted to go back to your little date, you would be trying way harder to get out.” he stated as the engine of the truck boomed.
he had a point
then, it was silence all the way back to your house, the only sound was the radio playing softly in the background. you huffed, turning to look outside of the window as you passed the streets.
when you weren’t looking, joel was stealing peeks from you, a soft smile plastered on his lips. there was a pang of guilt but an even stronger sense of satisfaction coursing through his veins.
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Part Five
joel unlocked the fromt door with a spare key he had on him, signalling for you to be quiet while taking a step in.
“why are y-”
joel’s hand clamped onto your mouth, your words coming out muffled. then, you realised why, your dad was passed our drunk on the sofa, legs and hands sprawled out like a starfish, making you giggle behind his hand.
joel smiled at you before taking your hand in his subconsciously, dragging you upstairs before both your laughters would wake your father up.
you led joel into your room, quickly closing the door before a roar of laughter bursted our from you and joel. you joined him on the edge of the bed as you caught your breath, feeling more welcomed home than you ever had.
“don’t go tomorrow.”
“what?”
“the date. don’t go.”
“why not?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked up at him.
“go out with me instead. please?” joel’s voice broke at his plea, his eyes showing nothing but care and affection towards you.
his smell was intoxicating you, the close proximity making the tension almost too hard to ignore.
“if we do this, i won’t be able to stop.” he said in a hushed voice.
“don’t.”
in a single heartbeat, his lips were on yours, a moan errupting out of him and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.
joel pulled you off from the bed and onto his lap, a shriek coming from you as he chuckled. joel started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, they were sure to leave a mark tomorrow but he didn’t care, that was the fun of it.
“c’mon babygirl, i know you want this, show me how much you need it.”
you dumbly nodded, swallowing hard as you started to rid of your clothes, each one hitting the floor one after another. eventually, you were left with only your bra and panties on.
“baby, you can’t do this to me. gonna kill me darlin’ ” joel moaned, seeing the glimmer of mischief in your eyes. “what so you want me to do? use your words darlin’ girl, i’ll do anything you want.”
“i want you to fuck me, joel.”
“oh, baby… i fuckin’ want to but i can’t. not today.” he said, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. joel saw the disappointment on your face, lightly chuckling, “but i can make you come.”
“yes, please.”
“good girl, baby. what’dya want? my mouth? my fingers?”
“your fingers, please joel.”
whimpers escaped your mouth as joel slowly slipped his finger into your panties, a finger tracing your pussy, gathering the slick that was forming steadily.
“don’t tease me, baby, i wanted this for so long.” you begged.
and that turned joel on even more.
“yeah? tell me how much you’ve thought about this.” he urged, finally plunging a finger into your tight cunt as you gasped.
“wanted this since the day you came back.” you cried, clinging onto joel’s shoulders, burying your head into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.
“dirty girl, why didn’t you tell me, hm? would’ve given it to you anytime you wanted.”
you were so far gone, drunk on joel that you could only nodded and whimper at his words.
a loud whine erupted from you as he started abusing your hole with two fingers now, thrusting them in an animalistic rate. your legs were shaking, forehead covered in sweat as you tried not to come too quickly.
“aw, poor thing, baby, don’t hold back. just let go, c’mon darlin’, come on my fingers.” joel instructed, giving you a hard thrust of his fingers, causing tears to form in your eyes. he leaned down, right next to your ear and whispered something that you could never forget.
“come for daddy, darlin’ ”
you gushed around him, liquid splashing all over his jeans as you let out a loud gutteral moan of his name.
he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, praising you as you came down from your high, hands gripping onto his shirt as you sobbed.
“how’re we feeling, babydoll? you okay?” he asked as soon as he sensed you calming down.
you nodded, tearing your face away from his shoulders. “yeah… thank you joel.”
“don’t needa thank me, i should be thankin’ you. never seen anyone look that pretty an’all when they come.”
you groaned, hands covering your face in embarrassment as he laughed at you. that night, you laid in his arms until the crack of dawn. joel slipped out the front door without waking your father up, being gone without a single trace if him being in your room the night before…
…except for the kisses he planted all over tour face before he left, and his number on your phone.
‘joel miller, what are you doing to me?’
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part two comin soon
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Eddie’s Memory Log Day 1:
part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here
(ao3 link here)
The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps.
They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be.
About how grateful Eddie would be.
Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder?
But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids.
So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.
Eddie knows his name today.
He’s pissy - he’s always pissy cause Eddie is battered up beyond belief. But still, he’s extra pissy today because Dustin is his favorite visitor and he hasn’t stopped by in almost a week.
Eddie knows Dustin’s name today too.
And guess who’s his least favorite visitor?
“Harrington.” Eddie grumbles, mouth full of lime jello. “Who paid you to be here today?”
Remembers Steve’s name… last name.
“No one.” Steve makes himself comfy in the vinyl armchair. “Call me crazy, but I’m not too big on taking lunch money from sophomores.”
Speaking of which…
“Do you know you know how old you are?”
Eddie crumples the plastic jello container. “You’re a patronizing sack of shit.”
Steve rolls his eyes, starts to write down:
Eddie doesn’t know his age.
“Twenty.”
Eddie does know his age (20).
“Swell.” Steve fakes his amusement. The kids are much better at cheerleading Eddie along in this process. But Steve’s poker face is nonexistent. Sarcasm and assholery occupy every seat in his brain these days.
They go through a few more questions before Eddie begins to get tired. He’s tired a lot, even though the coma knocked him out for almost four months.
Guess holding hands with Death really takes it out of a person.
Eddie doesn’t know his birthday.
But Eddie does remember it’s in the winter (has a memory of seeing leafless trees from an early childhood birthday party).
Eddie remembers his uncle’s name.
Eddie doesn’t remember which street he lives on.
Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).
“I’ll let you rest.” Steve folds the binder shut, sort of desperate to do anything to get Eddie to stop whining. Seriously, he thought this guy was funnier pre-bat attack.
Eddie doesn’t remember he has a sense of humor.
“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Eddie settles into his pillows.
Steve shrugs, puts his hands behind his head. “I took the bus from Hawkins today. The next one doesn’t leave for another few hours.”
“Still… it’s a city, right? You can go explore or whatever. Be a tourist.”
Yeah Eddie’s persuasive skills aren’t completely back either, it’s all very half-assed.
“Been here before.” Steve lounges deeper into the squeaky chair material. “I’m good.”
“Probably haven’t seen everything is all I’m saying -”
“Do you want me to leave that bad?”
Steve doesn’t shout, but his tone takes up space. Makes the room feel crowded with accusations and cutthroat honesty.
Eddie stares back hard. Sometimes, he doesn’t look like Eddie Munson - he looks like this war victim with knotted-up hair and sulky brown eyes.
Like a John Doe cadaver - tagging his foot with the possibility of Eddie Munson.
Anyways, that’s how he looks right now as he stares at Steve. Barely Eddie.
“Just. I don’t know you.” That’s a shitty ass comeback for someone with a memory-tank that’s perpetually blinking with the low-engine light on. 
Eddie continues with his weak argument. “Were we close enough back home that you’d stay here while I sleep?”
Eddie doesn’t remember Steve ignoring him in high school for four years.
Steve finds no reason to lie. “No. We weren’t close at all.”
“Right.” Eddie nods once. “So why do this? What are you getting out of this?”
This is a complicated situation to explain to anyone, let alone to someone with fuzzy comprehension abilities. But Steve gives it a whirl:
“Look, we have mutual friends that are… younger. Dustin’s age. And whether I like it or not, they’re like siblings to me now - I’d do anything for them. But they’re in school, they can’t be here every day like I can.”
“Why can you be here?” Eddie asks.
“I lost my job.”
Eddie attempts sympathy. “Sorry.”
Eh, Steve gives him a B-minus.
“Didn’t like it anyways.” Steve reassure him plainly. “The point, I’m doing this for them. For you too, but they’re the anchors in this.”
Eddie thinks for a moment - readjusts to laying on his side, facing Steve. “Won’t you need a new job eventually?”
“Nah. Trust Fund Baby.” Steve points both thumbs at his chest.
“Yeesh.” Eddie rolls to the other side, away from Steve. Disgusted by his comment, yet still chuckling very quietly.
Okay… Eddie does remember he has a sense of humor (just a teensy bit).
His breathing becomes long and hard - sleep heavy breathing. It doesn’t take long, sleep seems more natural to Eddie right now than being awake.
Steve watches him for a moment. There’s always the ghostly-distant fear that Eddie might stop breathing. He’s done it before - four months ago and once more while he was still at the hospital in Hawkins.
Max is still asleep. Steve hates thinking about that detail because it’s cruel. This twisted game that the universe is playing is truly unjust. 
Like an Almighty Asshole rolled Eddie’s stupid dice and decided, ‘I’ll let one of your friends wake up, but he won’t remember that he battled along side you in the trenches of darkness. Take it or leave it, douchebag.’
Steve will take it.
Eddie is still sleeping when Steve decides to head out - the bus will be arriving soon and he’s gotta get a window seat. Needs control over the window cause he gets carsick way too fucking easily these days.
“Heading out?” Eddie mumbles, eyes not even open.
“Yeah - sorry.” Steve doesn’t know why he whispered that. “Didn’t think I should wake you.”
“I gotcha. I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow?”
Huh… Steve thinks there might be a hint of implication that Eddie wants him to come back tomorrow. Interesting.
“Your memory isn’t as shitty as you think it is.” He’s overly smug when he says it. 
Eddie gives him a closed-lip smile. Only Dustin and Wayne receive those.
“Want me to pick up some food on my way in?”  Steve decides to give generosity a try, since Eddie is tolerable enough to give him a smile. “Get you off of this lousy hospital meal-plan temporarily?”
The smile is gone. “Nah, you don’t have to do that.”
Right.
Eddie definitely remembers how to be Stubborn with a capital ‘S’
But Steve is a Trust Fund Baby, so he’s unfazed with difficult behaviors. He can match difficulties all damn day if he wanted to.
Which he does.
“Suit yourself, Munson.” Steve acts so uncaring. Very uppity and douchey. “I’m thinking Chinese takeout for me personally.”
“Cool.”
“Cool. See you tomorrow then.”
There’s a pause, so Steve takes that as his sign to turn the handle, get the hell out of here.
“Steve?” Eddie calls weakly just before he shuts the door behind him.
He cracks it open, peeks his face back in. “Yeah?”
Eddie sighs. “Kung Pao Chicken.”
“Excellent choice.”
Eddie gives him another closed-lip smile.
Steve grins wildly, with all of his teeth. “In fact, I think I’ll do the same.”
And as Steve claims his middle seat on the bus, he pulls the binder back out of his backpack to add one more note for the day:
Eddie remembers that he likes Kung Pao Chicken.
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snotbuggle · 15 days
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Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.
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Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.
Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.
I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)
Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.
Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.
ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you” (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.
Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?
Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.
In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.
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luvhughes43 · 8 months
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daddy? | dad!trevor zegras x reader
luvhughes43 masterlist🌙
request: Could I please request a Trevor fic? Maybe taking place rn where he posts a picture of his girlfriend and their two freshly born twin girls? Like he kept his gf and the pregnancy a secret but decides to just announce I after they are born and everyone sort of losses it? Could just be fluffy but for a little more angst the public reacts badly because he is somewhat young and his public persona doesn’t scream “responsible dad” to them.
trevorzegras
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liked by ynuser, jackhughes, jamie.drysdale, and others
trevorzegras 03/08/23 💗💗
tagged: ynuser
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jackhughes best kept secret of all time
jamie.drysdale dad
jackhughes daddy
liked by trevorzegras
ynuser ❤️❤️❤️
user11 who let trevor fcking zegras get them pregnant😭😭😭
user44 FRRR😭😭😭😭 
user38 trevor has..k..kids… and they’re not mine? this doesn’t seem right 
user99 i’m sorry is anyone else concerned for these kids? like trevor is so unserious and he’s also in the nhl.. like how is he going to take care of them? he can barely drive a car and now he has TWINS?? with a girl weve never even seen either? he probably got her pregnant during a 1 night stand and is just now taking responsibility because he can get attention from it...
user73 ??? do u know trevor personally? maybe yn likes her privacy? u don’t know their lives. i’m sure he’s a great dad. u don’t have to be so hateful over people you do. not. know.
user61 uhmmm… okay…
user12 what ?
user61 he’s barely 22 how’s hes gonna be a good dad? to twins no less. boy only cares about hockey and his weed😭 he’s not gonna be a father to nobody’s kids even if she is really pretty😭😭😭
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a few months later...
ynuser
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liked by trevorzegras, jackhughes, and others
ynuser nothing but smiles🫶
tagged: trevorzegras
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trevorzegras my whole heart❤️
ynuser we love you so much!
_quinnhughes the cutest kids
liked by ynuser, and trevorzegras
user88 quinn hates trevor but he loves the kids😭😭
_quinnhughes the kids haven’t done anything wrong
trevorzegras ?? what i have done wrong😭😭
_quinnhughes be annoying❤️
user55 awwww😭😭😭😭🫶🫶
trevorzegras
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trevorzegras the babies are growing up🥲❤️
tagged: ynuser
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ynuser theyre getting so big🥹🥹
trevorzegras i need them to stop growing fr
jackhughes can u bring them over soon? they dont like when i watch bluey without them
user22 JACK A BLUEY STAN CONFIRMED???
trevorzegras jackhughes 🫡🫡
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ynuser
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ynuser mom and dad night out🥂
tagged: trevorzegras
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trevorzegras my love❤️
ynuser ❤️❤️
jamie.drysdale please go out more so i can babysit the kids
trevorzegras its not even fair they behave so well for u😭
ynuser jamies the baby whisperer fr
user10 STOPP jamie babysits for them?? thats so cute wtff
user41 notice how hes on his phone.. yeah he doesnt like her at all😭
ynuser he was taking pictures of me? lol
user11 u guys are so cute together im ngl lie😭
user87 MOM AND DAD
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morganski-19 · 3 months
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The One Where It All Started
This takes place about a year before the rest of the posts will be taking place. Just to set the stage before the real schnenanigans start.
“So I said that was a terrible idea, because there was barely any research done so it would be misleading to the readers, right,” Nancy continued her story about the piece she’s been working on at work.
“Yeah, that would make me pissed,” Robin added, following along.
Nancy nods in agreement as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Exactly. I would rather print nothing than something they made up. But of course, the boss doesn’t think so. I’m thinking of dropping the project, so my name isn’t attached to it, but then that just means I ‘didn’t have faith in the work’. No shit I don’t, it’s completely fake.”
“Fuck those guys,” Steve adds, partially listening as he’s grading his student’s assignments.
Jonathan and Argyle walk into the café, finding the group at their normal seats and joining them.
“My dudes,” Argyle bellows. “How’s it going?”
“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Nancy groans.
Jonathan winces. “Those assholes at work again?”
“Yes,” Nancy exclaims. “I need to find another job but this is the best I could get after school.”
“Could be worse,” Robin adds.
“I know, I just hate working there.”
Steve stares at the paper in front of him with a confused expression. “What do you guys think of this one?”
He turns the paper around to reveal a hand turkey covered with red drops resembling blood. What would normally be the feathers are now plucked off and surrounding the turkey leaving the pink underneath. Or at least that’s what it looks like. It could just be pink feathers and a turkey standing on a pile of leaves. But that wouldn’t explain the X’s for eyes.
“Are you seriously grading hand turkeys right now?” Robin rolls her eyes. “And you think your job is hard.”
“Try to teach a bunch of first graders basic math after they’re all hyper from recess and then get back to me. And it’s not just hand turkeys. There’s also spelling tests somewhere in here.”
Jonathan takes the paper from Steve’s hand, showing it to Argyle better with a very concerned glare. “I think you might need to talk to this kid.”
“He drew a murdered turkey, dude. Kid’s got issues.”
Steve takes the picture back, assessing it more. “I mean, those could be leaves.”
Robin points to the picture. “And that’s not blood.”
“Yeah, I need to talk to the kid.” Steve turns it over and sees the name. “Wait, this is Bobby’s. His parents hunt wild turkeys. That’s normal.”
A man with long, brown curly hair approaches the group, wearing a leather jacket with a band tee and black jeans. “Sorry to interrupt but, Wheeler?” He turns toward Nancy, pointing softly at her.
“Oh my god, Eddie?” Nancy smiles standing up to give him a hug. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since high school.”
“Eh, it’s been better. But you, I saw the article you did last month. Best thing I ever read in the news.” Eddie sits down on the chair across from Nancy.
Steve is trying his hardest not to stare and keep grading his stack of papers, but it’s hard. Robin elbows him in the side and widens her eyes in a “Really?”. Steve shrugs in his defense, taking a sip of his mocha. Robin rolls her eyes.
“Aw, thank you. I worked hard on that. What are you up to now?”
“Kinda between jobs at the moment. I work as a freelance artist but I’m taking a break from that becoming a tattoo apprentice.”
“That is so cool, dude,” Argyle interrupts from across the table.
Nancy has a moment of realization. “Right. Eddie, these are my friends. Robin, Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle. Guys, this is my old friend from high school, Eddie.”
“Nice to meet you guys.”
The group replies with varied greetings, Steve and Eddie holding eye contact a bit longer than the rest of the group does. Resulting with another jab in Steve’s ribs from Robin. He yells at her with his eyes for her to stop.
“So, do you live in the city now?” Nancy goes back to addressing just Eddie.
He scratches at his chin with a pained faced. “Kinda. Moved here to live with my ex a few months ago. And then he sort of cheated on me, so I’m trying to find somewhere else, but money’s kind of tight right now.”
“Ugh, that sucks,” Nancy winces. “I’m sorry.”
“Is what it is.”
Nancy turns to Robin, whispering something in her ear. Robin shrugs and whispers something back.
“You know, if you wanted to, no pressure or anything,” Nancy starts. “But, my old roommate just moved out and I’m looking for a new one. It’s a nice place my grandma rents to me so it’s rent controlled. I know we haven’t talked much since high school, but it’s yours if you want it.”
“Have to think about it, and see the place. But that might be nice.”
“And you’d live across from me and Steve,” Robin adds, earning her an elbow to the ribs.
Eddie smiles flirtatiously. “Well that does sweeten the pot.” He notices the hand turkey still laying on the table. “What the fuck is wrong with that hand turkey?”
“I already said I would talk to the kid,” Steve groans.
“Why is this is this kid going on turkey hunting trips anyway,” Jonathan asks, concerned.
Steve shrugs. “How would I know, not my kid.”
Argyle reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a joint, handing it to Steve. “For your troubles.”
“This group is great,” Eddie laughs to himself, already agreeing to Nancy’s offer in his head.
General information about the fic here
Tag list (just tagged everyone who seemed interested, let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417
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peaky-shelby · 1 year
Text
Say My Name Three Times | Kylian Mbappè
Pairing: kylian x reader
Series: Take Me On The Field
Request: Heyy, can I have a Kylian Mbappe request maybe they’re at a game of his and she goes to surprise him, she’s his girlfriend and an actress they haven’t seen each other in a month
Writer's note: this is the first story of the take me on the Field series. send in requests for our favorite players. You can check my prompt lists here.
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When I reached Qatar I was praying to everything holy for no one would recognize me. So far I had done a great job at convincing Kylian that I wasn’t going to make it to the final because of reshoots for the new project. The thing I loved most about him was that he didn’t even get mad about it. We were the exception of the rule that footballers dating actresses never ended happily. We both understood each other’s busy schedules, even when it wasn’t in our favor.
Of course the fact that he didn’t get mad didn’t mean that he didn’t complain. He wanted me there as much as I wanted to be there and it was eating us both alive. When I got the ok two days ago to leave the movie set I decided to surprise him, instead of telling and giving him a boost of confidence from the sidelines.
The hat covered most of my facial futures, along with my eye vision which was the reason I bumped into about 20 guys wearing Messi’s shirt. But thankfully my mask hid the rest of my face, as did my black as night sunglasses. To mix with the crowd I was wearing one of Kylian’s jersey’s and an old pair of sweatpants. Nothing about me was screaming celebrity, which was exactly the way I liked it.
The only one helping me with everything and knew I was coming was Giroud. He had spoken to the drivers, so one of them would be waiting for me. On the way to the French base, I stared out of my window, at the people, dressed and blue and white or in dark blue carrying the french flag over their heads. I smiled, truth was, kylian or not, football had been a part of me since I was a kid, the view made me emotional. When we reached the French base, the team had already left for the stadium. One of Giroud’s assistant was waiting for me on the foyer.
“Bonjour Mademoiselle!” he exclaimed when he saw me. He dealt with the security and helped me find my way to kylian’s room. All the way to his room, he’d mumble about how happy he was the Giroud has trusted him with this mission. I laughed at his excitement and thanked him a bunch for his help. When we got inside it instantly felt like home as Kylian’s perfume filled all my senses and I almost snuck in the bathroom expecting to find him by the mirror, shaving. I left my stuff next to the bed, as I raised my head I noticed he had a picture of us by his nightstand. I must have stood there looking at it for a long time because Giroud’s assistant, patted me on the shoudler “We have to go Mademoiselle!”
I nodded quickly, picked just my scarf with the French’s team’s logo, my phone and my jacket and ran outside with him. Everything else happened too quickly, the drive to the stadium, sneaking in with Giroud’s passes and all the way to the dressing rooms my phone was buzzing with Mbappe’s picture. I stopped just right outside the dressing room, smiling at myself. Giroud’s assistant looked at me confused as I answered the call.
“Babe! Où étais-tu ?” he asked, stressed, before I even had time to say anything.
“Je suis désolé! I got caught up at work! Has the came started?”
“Non!” I could hear the nerves in his voice. “Two minutes before we go out! I need your good luck!” While he was speaking I peaked through the door of the dressing room, all the boys were there sitting on their benches. Talking, laughing, putting on their uniforms. Mbappe on the other hand wasn’t there at all.
“You have all my good luck! You know that!”
“HEY! KYLIAN! JE DOIS ALLER AUX TOILETTES, MEC ! SORTEZ !” I heard somebody yelling through the phone.
“FUCK OFF ! Je parle avec ma copine!” he said shot back, my heart sinking when he called his girl. It sounded beautiful in any language he’d say it. I finally walked in the dressing room, everybody started exclaiming until I shushed them with my finger “You shouldn’t be talking to your teammates like the kyky!” I walked behind the benches, high fiving giroud as I passed him and got to the hall that led to the toilet. Tchouameni was knocking on the bathroom door. I guessed Kylian must have been inside.
“They shouldn’t be interrupting me when I’m talking to you.”
I patted Tchouameni on the shoulder. He jumped and covered his mouth when he saw me, he was as shocked as I hoped Kylian would be. I tilted my head to signal him to away for a moment and I got closer to the door. I could swear my heart was tied with Kylian’s because the closer I would get the more I felt it beat, like it wanted to jump out of my chest and right into his hands. I leaned on the door.
“If they gotta pee, the gotta pee Kyky!”
“Can I face time you?”
I smiled “I don’t have time. I have to go meet somebody.”
I heard him sigh and curse. I imagined him covering the microphone because I only heard it through the door, the he said on the microphone. “I really wish you were here, mon cheri!”
“Say my name three times, I might appear out of nowhere.”
He did it without thinking, he’d believe in anything if it could get me to be where he was. I laughed and knocked on the door.
“Putain de merde ! Laisse-moi tranquille Tchouameni!” He yelled, making me laugh again! So I knocked, with my palm, loud, like I was his teammate in need of the toilet. “PUTAIN!” He yelled and I heard him stand up, my heart reaching the speed of an airplane about to lift off. I heard him unlock, my breath becoming so stiff I thought I would choke right then and there and then-
“Merde Ts-“ he stopped. His eyes starring blankly at me, his voice eaten, his body frozen. I thought he was on facetime and the connection had fallen as it usually did and he was gonna stay like that for the next hour. I was scared to even touch him, as if he would reload and disappear completely. Then he spoke, relief filled my lungs, he was real. “Merde..” he said, this time softer, this time like a prayer. He didn’t even waste any time to put his phone back on his pocket, he just let it slip off his hand and wrapped his arms around me, lighting me up. I tied my legs around his waste, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, taking In his perfume and his skin. A drug I had long missed. He spoke curses and muffled words in my hair, until I pulled my head back, just so I could look in his eyes. I smiled widely and kissed him, the way I’ve waited for a month. He walked until I was against the wall, still kissing me and holding me like I was part of him. It felt easy, it felt as it should be.
We pulled back to breath and I leaned my forehead against his, our eyes saying a thousand words as we stared into each other’s souls. He was smiling like a dork, I think I was too.
“Hi.” I whispered and he laughed. Still unable to believe this was real. He shook his head.
“You came.” He whispered, his one hand reach my cheek, stroking it. I leaned to his touch.
“You said my name three times” I whispered back, getting another laugh from him. Then his expression got serious, his eyes fell on me with lust burning out of them.
“I’d say your name every second of every day non stop if I have to.” He answered and leaned in to kiss me again, this time deeper. We were interrupted by someone flushing the toilet. We hadn’t even realized his teammate had walked passed us while we were reuniting. When he came out he gave us a teasing look. Kylian kicked him in the ass, cursing him and then we looked at each other, laughing. It was as it should be.
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gyusrose · 10 months
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➵ turn on -> c.b
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⚠︎ smutty smut (mdni)
✎ established relationship
summary : while being on tour for months, you finally get to see Beomgyu, his new long hair makes you feel things and he sure as hell knows it.
beomgyu x fem. reader
( long haired gyu saves lives fr )
wc: 1.2k
——————————————————
you were sat backstage waiting for the show to end.
Beomgyu and you haven’t seen each other in such a long time, ever since the tour started, you’ve been busy with work and couldn’t travel with him.
although you two try to call and face-time everyday, it’s not the same. at all.
specially since you’re a sexually active couple, through a screen doesn’t hit the same.
you haven’t been able to see him face to face yet since you came a little late to the concert. but the moment you saw him with that long hair, you went feral.
who allowed him to look this hot, specially when you’re this vulnerable. and he knows it. he knows you’re watching.
‘what a tease’ you thought to yourself.
after you heard the guys bid their goodbyes and heading backstage you grew excited.
youmissed the rest of the guys as well but at this point all you wanted was gyu.
“hey _______, haven’t seen you in a while!” Soobin said engulfing you in a hug.
“me too, can’t wait for the tour to be over, i miss you all.”
“oh and by the way, do something about that kid. he’s been moody these past days and is getting on everyone’s nerves, i’m sure you can fix that.” Soobin said teasingly knowing damn well what he needed.
“don’t worry, i’ll fix it.” you said while he bid you goodbye. then founding beomgyu standing right in front of you.
god dammit, he looks even hotter standing in front of you.
his long hair stuck to his neck and forehead while his shirt stuck to his defined chest. he was still gasping from the show making me feel some type of way.
“isn’t it such a great welcoming seeing your girlfriend hugging another guy before you.” he said with raised eyebrows.
you rolled your eyes engulfing him in a hug.
his hands roamed on your waist. “ i missed you so fucking much gyu , and you looking like this isn’t helping at all.”
“i never knew how fine you look like with long hair.” you said pulling away, caressing his hair.
Beomgyu smirked at my remark. “they’re extensions, i can take them out if you want..”
“no! i like them, a lot actually.”
his smirk grew even bigger. “does it turn you on or something?”
“maybe? could be.”
>>
Beomgyu opened the hotel room with the card before slamming it closed and immediately kissed you vigorously.
you could feel his sexual frustration clearly.
you deepened the kiss grabbing his jaw and roaming your hands through his messy hair.
you barely took notice of him taking of your dress leaving you in your lacy underwear.
you didn’t even need to take off his shirt since he was already undressing himself, throwing you into the bed.
he started leaving kisses along your collarbone and neck then to your breasts.
as he got lower and lower, he opened your legs even more, kissing your inner thigh softly before pulling your panties to the side.
you could feel his hot breath against your core, at this point begging to be touched.
“you don’t know how much i’ve missed this fucking pussy babe.” he said before licking through your folds making your back arch at the sudden feeling.
that fucking tongue drove you crazy
he started sucking on your clit driving you even crazier. you rammed your hands through his hair diving him deeper into you.
as you were about to cum he pulled away.
whining in response, he chuckled.
“fuck me please Beomgyu just do it!”
“what a needy little girl, alright then, show me how much you’ve missed me.”
he said laying on his back waiting for you.
“i want to see you ride this dick.”
you wasted not time in taking your panties off and getting on him.
you lined him up with your entrance, easily slipping in him with your wet cunt.
both of your heads fell in pleasure.
“fuck i’ve missed this.” he said watching you slowly sitting on him, adjusting to it.
you started to go up and down faster as the pleasure became immense.
Beomgyu grabbed your hips with his big hands watching your every move. he bit his lip as your hands rested on his chest for support.
“so fucking sexy.”
he said making you moan and lean down and kiss him. he took this chance to hug your waist and ram his hips into you instead.
his strong thrust making harder for you to form any type of sounds.
Beomgyu groaned beneath me as you started to clench around his dick.
“shit.”
he flipped you over, him now being on top of you.
without warning, he slammed into you.
his thrust started off deep unlike yours. he grabbed your legs and put them on his shoulders sending you over the edge.
his hands found their way to your bra, you unclasped it , knowing what he wanted to do.
he took your sensitive nipples in his mouth while still thrusting furiously into you.
the skin slapping and moans covered throughout the room .
it didn’t take long until you came through his thrusts, closing your legs at the feeling. leaving you gasping from the sensation of euphoria you just went through.
Beomgyu wasn’t done yet though…
within seconds he flipped you over in all fours and once again slammed into you.
you, not yet recovered from your orgasm, were on the verge of tears.
Beomgyu took notice of this and whispered in your ear.
“is my baby crying because my cock? can’t take it?” he said kissing your shoulder.
you couldn’t even respond, as much as you wanted to.
he slapped your ass repeatedly, probably leaving his hand mark on them.
you could only moan your face into the pillow.
you could feel him getting closer by his rapid thrusts.
“fuck i love feeling you inside me.” you said quietly but enough for him to hear.
“say that again, louder.” he demanded
“i love how your fucking cock feels inside me.” you said between breaths.
he whimpered at your words and pulled out of you.
“open your mouth.”
you turned around and did as he said, he moaned as you tasted his load in your tongue.
as he finished you swallowed his whole as he caressed your face.
“i don’t know how i’m going to make it through this tour without you princess.”
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alreadyblondenow · 2 years
Text
Who’s gonna drive you home? (Part 1.)
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Pairing: Racer Jaehyun x female reader x Racer Taeyong
Genre: Love triangle, racer au, fluff, smut, angst
WARNINGS: Unprotected sex which is not advisable in real life situation, mentions of alcohol, one night stand, cursing, mentions of being fuck buddies, kind of bathtub sex, kind of and almost kitchen sex, kind of illegal racing, betting. NOT PROOFREAD, SORRY.
NOTE: THIS STORY IS PURE FICTION AND A 100% MADE UP FROM MY MIND. Inspired by Jackson Wang’s ‘Who’s gonna drive you home’ song. Oh gosh i love that song :(( Part 1 is the chillest part of the story HAHAHA part 2 is crazy. Decided to put it in half because the story was so long. Pls enjoy, let me know what you feel through ask!
———————
“You have to win today’s race dude, the car prize is absolutely gorgeous. Plus, we all can’t afford to loose any more money. The shop is—“
“On the line. I know. I heard Taeyong’s going to race tonight? How come I don’t see him around?” Jaehyun said while searching through the crowd. It was a normal race night where the crowd was wild, cars are all lined up looking pretty and such, they’re all just waiting for the number one contender. Lee Taeyong. The unbeatable racer, Jaehyun’s number one enemy in the streets.
“Alright people lets get down to business. Money and bets down!!!” Mark announced through his Megaphone excitedly.
“Taeyong hyung will be here in a minute” Mark continues and quickly glanced at Taeyong’s trailer.
“Five thousand cash and a date with Johnny’s girl” Jungwoo said which made everyone “oooh” in excitement, but Johnny is already furious about it.
“That’s not fair— dude, my girlfriend is not a prize” Johnny exclaimed, if Haechan wasn’t there to stop him, he will be punching Jungwoo this instance.
“Well Johnny hyung, rules are rules. We can only hope that Jungwoo looses— Jaehyun hyung?”
“Ten thousand cash and Taeyong’s car”
And the moment Jaehyun dropped those words, the area went quiet because what Jaehyun just said is a total shot to the moon. Impossible but everyone knew that Jaehyun is a good driver too, and if Taeyong looses his car his reputation as the greatest racer is on the line.
“Jeong Jaehyun, you know how to challenge me” Taeyong said out of nowhere, “Call. You want my car, I want your shop”
And in an instant, the tension became even more extreme for Jaehyun did not see this coming. He looked at his friends with worried eyes, seeing them shook their heads for neither one of them don’t want to loose the shop. But for Jaehyun, it’s all or nothing.
“Deal. Let’s race”
You on the other hand, is freezing at the back of Jisung’s car, waiting for the perfect timing to tell him to pull over.
“Aaah as expected, Taeyongie hyung is leading the race again” he said as cars passed by in front of you and Jisung now, seeing Taeyong’s car first.
“You never watch him race, how come?” The kid curiously asked you.
“I always wanted to watch him. But he kept our relationship secret, so I’m not allowed—“
“But you’re here tonight? Why?” He cut you off. What’s up with this kid you thought.
“And it’s my biggest mistake Ji, he broke up with me tonight because he told me—“ And in the middle of your sentence, it reminded you how Taeyong broke up with you earlier. Hot tears started falling uncontrollably, and you can feel your heart breaking into half… again.
Earlier that night
You were excited to surprise Taeyong tonight even though he told you don’t come to the race, but you haven’t seen him for days and you thought he was going to be happy and excited too once he sees you… but it turned out to be a disaster.
“You’re being childish, can’t you wait until tomorrow?” Taeyong asked in an angry tone.
“What is your problem—“ he’s never been like this.
“You. You are my problem. You have to leave” he was gently pushing you away, his arm is around your waist but still you don’t like what’s happening right now.
“Are you hiding something from me? Why do you keep me out from your world Tae? Were dating for months already. Do you have someone else? That’s why you don’t want me to go to your races?”
“Again. You’re being childish— I can’t deal with this tonight, the race is about to begin. Jisung will drive you home” he said with angry eyes, but before he leaves he tried to kiss you but you refused.
“I am here Tae. We have a problem to fix and your damn race is more important?” You scoffed, “maybe it’s better if we stopped this so I could never bother you again like this” you didn’t mean it, and for a second you really thought that he will stop you from breaking up.
But he didn’t.
“If that’s what you want. Do whatever you want. I honestly think that our relationship is already too much for me,”
And he left without saying another word. Just like that.
Present time
Jaehyun lost the race and at the same time he lost his shop and all his friends are mad at him for putting the shop on the line. He kept on thinking about his mistakes tonight while downing shots in front if him.
If only he was fast enough. Faster than Taeyong, he thought.
If only he could bet on something else other than his shop…. But he got nothing.
“Is this seat taken?” You disturbed him,
“N-no, I’m alone” Jaehyun said with surprise, stuttering because he was strucked by your beauty. The whole night that you were drinking beside him, he was secretly watching you with the thoughts of maybe driving you home because you seem so drunk already.
“If you got something to say, just say it” you said out of nowhere, it was obvious that he was watching you. And if you’re being honest it’s not a bad idea to start a conversation with someone so handsome… even after getting your heart broken tonight. What will Taeyong do? Surely talking to this handsome guy is not a crime.
But given that you’re both drunk and not to mention the sexual tension was quick to arise. Jaehyun leaned forward and drank your lost shot. “I think you should come with me, I’ll drive you home” he said with all the courage he has left.
He lost his friends, the race, and his shop. Of course he thinks he deserves a decent fuck tonight. That is… if you want it too, he thought to himself.
“How about you take me to your place?” You said, as if you were reading his mind.
Of course the two of you didn’t waste more time in that cheap bar, you and Jaehyun went to his place fucked the whole night until you say ‘stop’. He fucked you on the dining table, his bedroom floor, and of course his bed. He was good, big, gentle but can be rough if you ask him to. He was the perfect fuck you needed tonight.
“Fuck— please. I’m so weak” you pleaded as you feel your knees give up while he continues to fuck you from behind, your left hand was reaching behind to stop his lustful thrusts, but the man wrapped both his arms around your body and started touching your boobs… making you want more of it but you just can’t fucking handle it anymore.
“Give Taeyongie one last round” the man behind you whispers and started licking your neck and placed wet kisses afterwards.
Wait. Taeyong?
You looked behind you and saw Taeyong’s lustful eyes. Smiling weakly at you handsomely. It was one of those looks where you feel so loved and protected by this man. And it just makes you fall even harder for him. You shut your eyes gave in to his touch, letting him fuck you for another round. In fact, you were asking for more and moaning so beautifully to let him know that you love what we was doing to your body.
But by the time you opened your eyes, it was all just a dream. And then your broken heart greets you ‘good morning, you lost Taeyong last night’
“You’re awake” Jaehyun brought you to reality and reached for his thick blanket to cover you up. His beautiful face was the first thing you saw, realizing what you’ve done together last night but you didn’t have any regrets. So the good fuck from your dream was because of this man beside you.
A one night stand. That’s all.
After you cleaned yourself up and made yourself decent, you sat at the edge of his bed while he was looking so hot shirtless in bed. His face was lit up, pink and beautiful with those deep cute dinples. Beautiful and handsome at the same time. You couldn’t believe this man fucked you senseless last night.
“Please tell me you remember giving me your phone number last night” he started, teasing you in some way.
“Yeah I remember and that’s for emergency use only” you flirted back.
“I hope the man who left you regrets every second of it” Jaehyun said. You don’t remember telling him about that part but truth is Jaehyun dried your tears last night while you were sleeping.
——-
Days after the breakup you haven’t heard anything from Taeyong. But little did you know, the man was having a hard time, now that you’re gone. If only he could tell you the real reason why he broke up with you… but he can’t.
“Jungwoo hyung was bold last night, asking a date with Johnny hyung’s girl” Mark informed Taeyong.
“Good thing I won then,” Taeyong said without emotions while continuing to repair the damages from the previous race. “That’s why I couldn’t risk the world knowing about me & y/n— she couldn’t understand that I’m protecting her from my enemies…”
“But hyung, you love her—“
“And I will regret for the rest of my life if something bad happens to her because of my doing. This is for the better”
“Anyway, about Jaehyun hyung’s shop… should we visit him now?” Mark changed the subject,
“I just broke up with Y/n, Mark. I can’t handle business yet. I’ll talk to him soon… also dont you think what I did was too much? His shop was all he has, I’ll make another deal and talk to him”
“G-got it… I’m sorry about Y/n, hyung”
And when Mark left Taeyong to be alone, your ex-boyfriend can’t focus with almost everything he tries to do because he misses you. On days like this, you’re usually with him, watching his fix his car while he tells you how he won last night. He misses your curiosity, the randomness of every question you ask him. In other words, this is him regretting that he broke up with you.
But hearing about Jungwoo and Johnny’s bet last night made him think that he did the right thing even though you’re both hurting.
———
While Jaehyun was cleaning his shop and preparing it to its new owner, he couldn’t let go of the stress and heartbreak that’s happening right now. It has been days since he lost from the race, but Taeyong haven’t contacted him yet. Nonetheless, he was still struggling to let go.
The shop gave him friends, which are all mad at him right now and he’s too ashamed to call them. This place was their safe space, an escape from reality. Not to mention, everyone in town loved this car shop and they had loyal customers.
“Hello? Anybody here?” you knock on the car shop’s locked door… but the sign says ‘open’. But just before you leave the place, someone from the inside opened the door which made you both froze.
“Uh— well… uhh… this is a surprise. Do you work here?” You asked Jaehyun. Honestly, you’re not sure if that’s his name.
“I sorta… ehem… own this car shop— what do you have here? Looks heavy—“ he then carried the box that you were carrying and invited you in. It was clear as the day, that the place was indeed closed and he was just too busy flipping the sign.
“The shop is closed because?” You started, and your question gave hurt Jaehyun.
“Lost a bet. Long story short— well, well, what do you have here? These car parts are expensive… these yours? You drive?”
“Ex’s. Long story short” Jaehyun nodded and immediately got the message. You were trying to forget your ex. Good for you, you thought.
“Well, if were being fair right now… these aren’t technically yours… so,” he teased you, just making you smile. “How about, I take you to dinner in exchange for these good car parts?”
You got to admit, the man is smooth. It wasn’t a bad idea after all. He was a good distraction. “Okay, tonight then? Where are you taking me?” You smiled and leaned forward. Oh you missed his smell.
“Somewhere breathtaking,” he smiled back and placed a kiss on your cheek. He shouldn’t have done that, but he can’t help it he thought.
The sudden sweetness made your heart flutter, you didn’t expect that he’s capable of being this sweet. “What a gentleman,” you giggled, “pick me up at 7?”
But Jaehyun arrived earlier than expected, he was that excited to see you. Maybe, this wasn’t out of desperation to forget his current situation and problems. Maybe, he really wanted this to work. And change his life.
Little did he know, you were actually trouble.
As you were looking through the window to see Jaehyun outside, you suddenly remembered how Taeyong took you out on your first date. Back then you didn’t know anything about his world, you just knew that Taeyong is so handsome and you scored a kind hearted man. That night, Taeyong brought you to a fancy restaurant and ate steak, drank expensive wine and had a great time in his bed until the sun comes out.
Now you’re just not sure anymore if going with Jaehyun is the right thing to do. It’s not right to see someone who’s nice like him, while you’re still hurting from your past. So tonight, you decided to be honest with Jaehyun. You will finally tell him about Taeyong, and that you are not emotionally ready for him. Yet.
“You race? Guess I was too drunk to realize that your car was fast, during our first night” you gave him a hug before you get in his car. You noticed how his car was like Taeyong’s. Shiny and expensive.
“I wasn’t driving fast that night. Figured I might startle you— do you know something about racing?”
First of all, you wanted to say that it will not bother you even if he goes fast because Taeyong always drives fast. Second, you didn’t really want to talk about Taeyong now, you’re saving it for later and admit that you know a few things about racing.
“I can drive, let’s just leave it to that,” you smiled and put your seatbelt on, “you can drive fast, I don’t mind” you added. He just smiled his usual handsome, dimpled smile. “So where’s this breathtaking place?”
“Oh you’ll see” he smiled again, and started driving. “I should drive safe. Especially that you’re with me. That will put me at ease”
The date went on beautifully. You learned a lot of things about Jaehyun, while he gets nothing from you. Yet. But Jaehyun wasn’t in a rush, he was simply happy and thankful that you’re okay with spending time with him. Yes, he may be handsome and all the girls wanted to date him, but he never really gave them attention. But you, you have his attention. And even though he was nervous and unprepared, he liked this feeling that you’re giving to him.
“Did you enjoyed the dinner?” Jaehyun asked, keeping his eyes on the road while peaking from time to time on your side, just so he could look at you more. “Sorry if you’re expecting something grand for tonight— it’s my first time taking someone out on a proper date—“
“Jaehyun, I have to be honest with you— I’m not yet ready for this, I literally got my heart broken the night we first met. And I’m secretly, still wishing that he will come back, that T—“
“Don’t do this tonight. I understand. I really do,” Jaehyun let out a heavy breath before stopping the car just so you two can talk better. “Just let me try, let things flow and if we don’t work out then at least I didn’t let the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met go without taking the chance”
And again, the sweet words got into you. “And besides, you need a distraction” he added and showed you a very handsome smile.
————
When you let Jaehyun enter your life, you didn’t expect great changes in your life. He was supposed to be a distraction from your heartbreak, a guy who’s willing to make you cum and warm your bed almost every night. But the more Jaehyun stay in your life…. The more you want him to stay for a little longer.
It started when mornings felt light because you knew he stayed and his face will be the first thing that you will see in the morning.
When his kisses felt different and you love receiving them especially when you haven’t seen him for hours or days, and you just miss him so much. He would kiss you in public, in front of the people he knew, wrap his arms around you and whisper, “You don’t know what you do to me when were apart” and spread kisses on your face.
The day you admitted to yourself that you love him, you knew that you’re with the right person. And that you’ve completely understood what love really means. Although Jaehyun never told you he loves you, but you can see it as clear as the day.
When he takes you out on a cheap date because he wanted to do something special for you.
When he goes an extra mile with making you home cooked meals.
When you just kiss lovingly before you two go to sleep.
Jaehyun knew he won already. And that his love is already accepted, he’s just waiting for you to tell him.
“I’m almost done, where are you?” Jaehyun spoke through the phone. He was still in the car shop, he works there now. He’s not the boss, but at least he can still be with the place. “I’ll be home soon, let’s have dinner together, I haven’t had lunch. Cook for me?”
“Mhmm. I’m already cooking right now, so you need to be home fast— you know you can move in with me, I’d love to share my place with you” you said which made Jaehyun giggle. You hate how he can’t take care of himself when you’re not around.
“We’ve talked about this,” he giggled again, “I’m saving up for our place. I don’t want to be a freeloader, and besides it’s good investment for our future” he teased you, you knew he was talking about marriage.
When Jaehyun was on his way home, he was so excited to see you that he was going too fast that other cars were pissed at him. And that gave him an idea. If he can go back to racing again, he can save up fast and he could ask you to marry him. Jaehyun smiled at that thought, but he immediately remembered that it’s a life he already left because, well, now that he has you… he has someone to lose now.
“Wow you’re dirty…” you greet him the moment he enters your place. His white shirt was full of grease, hands were dirty too, but he was still handsome as ever. “How many satisfied customers today?” You kissed him on the lips as part of your way of saying ‘welcome home, you can relax now’.
“A lot” he smiled back and pulled you closer. “How about we shower together?” He suggested with a smirk.
“How about I give you a bath and clean you up? And then we’ll have dinner. Thought you were hungry?” You tug his shirt and push him towards your bathroom and prepared a warm bath for him.
He was quiet while you were washing his hair, careful not to put shampoo in his eyes. His right arm is resting on the tub, while the other one is reaching for yours as if you’re going somewhere any minute. You wonder what’s on his mind.
Of course it was the racing. Jaehyun was thinking long and hard about it, over and over again. He never told you about the reason why he stopped from racing, he never told you the reason why he lost his shop. You just know that he is not in trouble, and that he’s genuine as he can be. And that’s one of the many reason why you love him.
“There all clean,” you sat beside the tub, playing with his clean fingers under the warm water. He was still quiet while his eyes were glued in the ceiling.
To catch his attention, your hand traveled through his hard rocked abs and touched it softly. No reaction.
You then reach for his hand, and licked his point finger and put it in your mouth that’s how you got his attention and went hard in an instant. With no other words, he attacked you with kisses and helped you remove your damped clothes. Joining Jaehyun in the tub and sitting on top of him. “What were you thinking?” You moaned out when you feel Jaehyun suck you boobs and knead them, pinching the other with his wet hand, making you real sensitive.
“You. Are you tired?” He asked, while putting shower gel on your body and applying it gently in your skin. Making it slippery for his liking, kneading your boobs, your ass cheeks and gently massaging your back.
“Do you want me to give you a massage tonight?” You asked, stroking his hard cock under the water while he was rinsing you with the shower head.
“I want to make love like crazy tonight” he said which made you both giggle.
You don’t know what’s up with Jaehyun tonight, but you can feel that he’s longing for you almost like he was saying through his kisses that he’s afraid of losing you. He was pulling you closer, whispering sweet things, and the things he want to do to you tonight…. Starting with flipping your body on the mattress, face flat on the clean and fluffy sheets but your ass is up in the air. You shivered when Jaehyun blew cold air on your wet slit. Running his fingers up and down until you’re wet and good before he licks you softly.
It’s his hand placed on your hip, soothing you whenever he feels like you’re giving up.
But he wanted more. And so he spreads you ass cheeks, licked your entrance oh so fucking slowly that your legs couldn’t take the tingling. Earned a light smack in the ass, before Jaehyun continues to lick you from behind. Enjoying how your ass would shake in front of his face. And the moment you came, Jaehyun was kissing your ass cheeks, teasing you further and making you giggle. He made his way beside you, checking if you’re still awake.
“Can you stop playing already?” You said with a small laugh. He rolled on top of you, spreading kisses on your face and neck while he made you swing your arms around him. Oh he loves being close to you like this.
You feel his hand sooth your left leg before he spreads it and line his cock. You moan at feeling of the tip of his cock teasing your wer entrance. “You know, I can cum with just gliding my cock on your slit” he said with a low voice but of course he will not be satisfied. He then slowly pushed in, watching every inch of his cock go inside you and watch you melt with his stroke. He did not move for a few minutes, kissing you one too many times and telling you how much you feel so good around him, even asking you if you’re okay. And when he finally pulled out, he sees his cock glisten with your pussy juices and was happy that he made you so wet.
Moving slowly with a slight force, your boobs were moving up and down and Jaehyun loves the sight of it. You reached for his hand and made him touch your boobs, but he decided to pinch your nipples instead and put it in his mouth. He was moaning so hard, moving his hips rhythm while you receive every ounce of pleasure and admiration. And whenever you peek at him, you see him looking straight into your eyes with all the love he has for you.
“I love you too,” you said moaning. He heard it well. He stopped for a second to let it sink in, reached for your hand and kissed it.
After your confession, his thrusts became sharper and made you weak in an instant. Gripping Jaehyun’s hands so hard as he fucks you, begging him, moaning his name, and making the night even memorable for the two of you when you reached for his face and before you came. You breathing so hard. So hard that you wanted to push him away, but you can’t be apart from him.
“Oh she’s sleepy, don’t you want to make the night longer?” Jaehyun said, teasing you while kissing your hands again. He was giggling when you fell asleep while still gripping his arm like you’re still telling him to stop. He was the one who put on clean clothes on you and made sure you’ll have a warm bed tonight. But even though he was the reason for your beautiful sleep, Taeyong is the one in your dreams and still make you tear up in your sleep.
Jaehyun hold on to you. Physically and figuratively. He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers together,letting you know that someone is waiting for you. And that he loves you, more than you can ever imagine.
“Good morning” you didn’t have second thoughts with waking him up with kisses. You missed him already and you can’t get enough of him.
“Aren’t you tired?” He smiles and pull you close. Oh he’s so cute.
“I am but I really want to start our day already,” you poked his dimples m. “It’s our first day, officially”
Jaehyun’s eyes went big immediately and smiled sweetly. He rolled on top of you and showered you with kisses, making you feel so loved this morning. So this is love you thought.
The day went on slow. You’ve never flirted like this before and if you’re both being honest, it fees like you haven’t been seeing each other for months already. Everyday together is a new feeling, like a new gift you’re excited to open. That’s how excited you are with your commitment with Jaehyun.
And to think that, you’re the one who pushed him so many times because you weren’t sure with your feelings and you still love Taeyong… you just hate yourself with the thought of hurting him that way.
“You made me skip work, but you’re the one who’s not here with me” he giggles and nuzzles his nose on your nape which tickled you and brought you back to reality. “What are you thinking?” He smiled, curious while leaning towards you by the kitchen table.
“Hmm. Nothing. I just remembered how I used to push you away and look at us now” you said, racking his soft hair and pulling him closer in between you bare legs.
“Told you. I’ll keep coming back,” he smiled back put his hand on your waist and started kissing your neck with want. As if his kisses were telling you that he’s not going anywhere. Soon his hands traveled under your borrowed shirt and feel his cold hands on your skin.
“We haven’t had breakfast” you whispered near his ear.
“You’re my breakfast,” he smirked and put his hand inside your panties, not wasting anymore time and started making you wet with his fingers. Slowly gliding it up and down, not rushing and rather taking his time with torturing you. This time, his kisses were slow but hungrier, his tongue made you weak and made you want for more. You can’t stay still because the pleasure was building up and it’s building up fast. “Spread your legs” you asked nicely with a sexy tone, you wanted to melt right then and there but you can only follow what he says. “How do you like my fingers?” He asked once again while you’re getting comfortable on the kitchen table with your legs wide open and Jaehyun in between them. “Slowly like this?” He ran his middle finger on your wet slit oh so slowly which made you weak and moan his name. It was a slow, feather like touch from him. No sign of pressure from his fingers, just pure teasing and pleasure.
Jaehyun saw the effect from he did, he smiled and went back to kissing you with want as he continues what he was doing down there. And when he felt your legs closing, and everything was already too much for you, he focused on your clit and made you cum from teasing it. You were so frustrated and wanted something other than teasing, but your boyfriend was enjoying. You can only roll your eyes at him but still give him the kisses he asks for. “We have all day. I’ll make it up to you” he giggled and you two continued kissing each other while talking, having a sweet time together.
Until Jaehyun’s phone kept on ringing. Which he continues to ignore because it was an unknown number. After a few missed calls, it stopped ringing.
Then your doorbell rang. By this time you hate how the world continues to ruin your quality time together. “Ugh. I’m not expecting anyone today—“
“It’s okay, I’ll go check on it. You can go fix yourself first” he kissed you and helped you down. Jaehyun then grabbed his shirt from the couch before opening the door, and there Taeyong was standing.
Taeyong was surprised but he didn’t show it. He saw Jaehyun wearing his shirt as he opens the door.
Then you arrived to the scene shortly, wearing a man’s shirt and short shorts.
It wasn’t hard to solve Taeyong thought. You two completely slept together… and now he’s boiling with anger. But of course he’s not showing it.
“Tae… what are you doing here,” Your heart was breaking again as you said his name. He changed so much. He got thinner, the sparkle in his eyes were gone and you almost didn’t recognized him.
“Came to talk to you,” Taeyong answered coldly, “but I see that you have company already,”
It’s been months since the breakup and you didn’t thought that he wanted to fix what you had together. You wanted so bad to hear what he has to say, and truth be told you wanted to talk to— but suddenly, Jaehyun interfered.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you” Jaehyun said with pride.
Taeyong gets what he wants. Always. But this time Jaehyun is the one leading in this race, and he will not let Taeyong win.
“And who are you to speak for her, Jaehyun?” Taeyong replied and by this time you were shocked to the core that they knew each other.
“Jae, you know him?”
“I’ll explain everything later,” Jaehyun said to you.
And while Taeyong was watching you two talk, it was clear to him that he lost you already today. And so with a heavy heart and no goodbyes or whatsoever, he walked away from the two of you. But you were quick to follow him. And as you chase Taeyong, Jaehyun on the other hand hot hurt with your actions. He didn’t stopped you anymore and let you follow Taeyong. Clearly you wanted to talk to him too, Jaehyun can only hope that you wont forget that he exists.
“Tae— how are you?” You stopped Taeyong from getting in his car. He turned and faced you, sadness in his eyes were visible.
“Do you love him?” Taeyong asked with a firm tone. Almost mad but this time he didn’t want his anger to ruin what he can still fix . “Do you love him?” He then once again asked with a softer tone.
“Because I’m here to bring you back Y/n,”
You stand in front of Taeyong in shock. Confused to what is happening right now, but most importantly… why can’t you answer his question when you just said to Jaehyun that you love him. Last night while you two were making love.
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treehuggerthegreat · 14 days
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Ugh. I love the trope of a character living with a dead body in plain sight but isn’t mentally able to recognize it. Whether they be too young or they are so far gone that they can’t, it’s so. Horrific. Like the moment you REALIZE that there’s a dead body of a loved one just. Sitting there. And they’ve been living their life without missing a beat as it rots in the living room. Bonus points if they acknowledge it but as someone or something else. Like oh that’s not my dead aunt, she’s alive silly! Or oh aunties been sleeping.
They’re so out of it that someone literally DYING (especially when they played an important role in the characters life) that they don’t even notice. It doesn’t even concern them. They are SO wrapped up in they’re delusions and hallucinations (for the mentally deteriorating or disturbed trope) that the smell of a rotting body that only CONTINUES to smell worse doesn’t even hinder them enough to be concerned. To them everything is just fine and peachy. They don’t realize their mom slipped and broke her neck, and it’s not even they that they don’t or wouldn’t care, it could plausibly be that they aren’t CAPABLE of realizing this person is dead. they don’t want to. their mind completely reworks their reality so that she’s very much alive but sleeping, or on a trip somewhere. Or just literally hallucinates conversations with them. Ugh this one is just my personal favorite but.
Pr when a character is so young they don’t KNOW what death is or WHY their mom hasn’t gotten up in weeks, even months. They don’t understand why the house continues to smell worse and worse. They’re forced into taking care of themselves, to being their own adult while this person who was supposed to take care of them ‘sleeps’. I don’t like this one as much as the hallucinations one, because with this one the situation is less malleable and more specific. But it’s still so good. It means that the person who was taking care of them made them feel like they were supposed to do it themselves. They’re too scared to try and wake mom or even if they did try when it doesn’t work, they still don’t get someone else. It could either mean neglect, or oversheltering. It’s just them and mommy. The character either doesn’t trust other people or doesn’t even ASK them because how could they help? It’s just them and mommy. But mommy’s sleeping, so they have to be good so when she wakes up she’s rested and is proud! And on the flip side, the character could be scared and maybe doesn’t want their parental figure to wake up because then that means they get punished or maybe they have friends over or the parental figure just isn’t fun to be around. Loud, obnoxious, or maybe negative and constantly drunk, or maybe the kid doesn’t NOTICE they haven’t gotten up. They’re so independent at such a young age that they can get to school, they can get their own food, and when the food runs out that’s when they get a little concerned. But they’re still young. They don’t know how to long term problem solve or how to QUESTION what’s going on around them. The smell? just avoid it. The food? try to ration or get food from friends and school.
my favorite part is REALIZING that the character goes their daily life around something so horrible and rotting. You could probably tell something was off. Whether with the kid they were quiet or antisocial, maybe a little weird, or with the hallucinations character, you could tell they are a little off their rockers. You never EVER thought it was actually this bad. A dead body? Rotting? for weeks? how does someone let this happen? This poor person. This poor kid. Reality either something they avoid, or has become to make no sense. Reality is what the kid has been told. They were never told what death is or what to do.
It hurts so much more when it’s a character you’ve WATCHED become this way. You’ve seen them interact with their late loved ones before. You’ve seen them socialize somewhat functionally. You know who they actually are and you KNOW how much they cared for this person. But something happens. Or maybe nothing did. But they just grew more and more reclusive. As their mental state deteriorates, so did their living friendships. And the less and less people talked to them, the less and less they bothered to attach themselves to reality or anyone who really was. Then you finally get to see inside their mind, their house, and hope it’s not the worst case scenario. But as you turn the corner into a room or a stairway, you see. You see that it’s so so much more worse than you could have EVER thought. and i lostmy train of thoug
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kitixie · 8 months
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Little Girl Gone (pt 6)
word count: 2k
information: y'all, i am so sorry this took so long, i've been in a slump and clinicals just started so i've also been super busy. but i promise i am going to finish this!
warnings: smut. dirty, filthy, nasty smut. seriously, its like 3 pages of smut with some dialogue, but i won't apologize for it 🙃
taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude, @globetrotter28, @tn22220-blog, @fudgethisyo, @geeky-politics-46, @chaengist, @lostgirl219, @amberpanda99, @sharrren, @bookishbabyyyy
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Tommy’s POV 
It had been a week. It had been a fucking week since I had last seen Y/N, since I had tasted her lips on her kitchen counter and gathered the strength to pull away. Dealing with business and family had made this week drag on like months, leaving a hole in my chest that grew everyday I wasn’t around her. I had been so close to having her, her body and mind were almost mine, and then I remembered that stupid, pointless meeting in Camden, and I pulled away like an idiot. I was needed at the meeting, but still; I needed her more. 
Everytime that my mind has dared to go back to that night, it always ends the same. Me in a bathroom or closet or any other private place, jerking my cock like a madman. I couldn’t stand it any longer, I needed to have her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see her for a while, and that only made it worse. It only made me treasure the memories more. 
“Thomas,” Polly croaked, I could still see the tear stains on her face from earlier. 
Business had not gone well, ending with Arthur and John being arrested, and Michael getting his ass handed to him in the process. Polly had been crying and screaming the entire time, along with Ada, who is ever the dramatic. Ada has now resumed her vow of silence against me, at least until I get our brothers free, and Polly won’t stop fucking crying, tears coming out between her hands as she covers her face. I understand her upset, I really do, but it isn’t my fault that her son manages to get beat to a pulp everytime we go out, and she knows it. 
“Yes, Pol?” I finally answer, the solemn look not leaving my face. 
“What are you going to do? Ya have to get your brothers, the longer their in there the more pissed they’ll be,” she breathes, “I can take care of Michael, but you’ve got to handle things with the prison.”
Finally recognizing some of the life that comes back to her eyes, I sit for a moment. It’s not a problem to get Arthur and John out, I pull people from the jail all the time. I’m just not sure what to do with them once they’re out. They’ll be angry, looking for revenge, and I’ve got a sweet girl waiting on me that overpowers all thoughts of payback. Everyone will get what's coming for them, we are the Shelbys after all, but I want to come first. Preferably all over Y/N. 
Another week gone by, and still I haven’t gotten to see her. The hole is now a gaping wound, and my cock is sore from how much my hand has been on it. 
I was right, Arthur and John drug me straight back to Camden Town after they got out, and it’s taken all week to stalk and plan out our retribution. We got it, but at what cost? I still haven’t been around to see Y/N. I know she's been at the house, Pol called and told me that she asked her over and watch Finn while she tended to Michael. Hearing that made my heart swell the most it has in a long time, just knowing she cared enough to do something as simple as watch my kid brother. I am so far gone for her, and I don’t even think she realizes that she holds the most powerful man in Birmingham at her fingertips. 
The three of us eventually arrive back to Watery Lane, and I immediately notice that Y/N’s umbrella is propped by the door. The adrenaline begins to rush through my veins, waking up all of the feelings that I just got to lie down this past week. All that lust and longing comes flooding back into me, all from an umbrella by the door. I enter the house first, and hear the sounds of laughter coming from the seating room. I peek around the door frame to see Finn and Y/N, locked in some sword battle, using sticks as their weapons. They slash at each other, Y/N obviously holding back given that she has almost two feet in height on the kid, but still it’s one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. 
I, Tommy Shelby, just found something adorable. Something is truly wrong with me. 
I ultimately decide not to disturb them and continue walking to my room. It’s only when I get to my room however, that I notice the tent that has formed in my pants. Fuck, I can’t even see her without getting aroused. I hear John and Arthur speaking to them downstairs, and figure that they’ll keep them busy long enough for me to handle my issue. I carefully shut my door, and lie down on my bed. Loosening my pants, I free my cock from its confines. The skin is red from straining against my clothes, but it only adds to the tenderness as I stroke myself. I imagine it being her hands, dragging up and down my length, toying with the sensitive head. I run my thumb over it, letting the pain from being so hard morph into the pleasure I’m imagining in my head. I picture her mouth, those soft, pink lips wrapping around me, licking and kissing all over my skin until she finally makes her way down. She’d start slow, testing the waters to see how she could handle me, until finally sinking all the way down, my cock touching the back of her throat. The same throat that makes all those mouthy remarks, and keeps all those secrets of what she wishes I’d do to her. I even go so far as to imagine her own fantasies, picturing her getting off to the thought of my hands on her, just like I’m doing now. The soft moans that would spill out of her mouth, falling hard in the silence of her apartment. The way her fingers dive and retreat in and out of that pussy; I know it’s tight, it has to be. That leads me to my next train of thought. The warm center between her legs, that would be dripping in arousal by the time I got around to it. She’d be so wet that it would go down her thighs, it’d be enough for me to drink. I let out a small moan, the feeling of my hand and the delusions in my head becoming too powerful. I can almost feel the softness of her lower lips, as they part to let me in. The filthy sounds she would make as I drove into her, first from on top of her, then once she got adjusted to my size, the way I would take her from the back. 
The motion of my hand stops as soon as I hear a glass shatter, and I peel open my closed eyes to find Y/N, standing at my door, face flush, with a shattered glass and pool of water around her feet. Her eyes do not meet mine, and I realize that they’re dialed in on my cock, with my hand still wrapped around it. 
“Tommy, I-I am so sorry, I had no idea-” 
I don’t let her finish before I’m on my feet. I step over the glass, scooping her up in my arms before placing her inside my room so that she doesn’t step on the glass. I close the door behind her, somewhat aware that my hard on is still out on full display. 
“How long have you been watching me, bad girl?” I say, bringing the same hand that was on my cock seconds ago up to her cheek. Her skin feels better than mine ever could. 
“Not long, I swear it Tommy,” she rasps, trying to keep her eyes on my face. 
“Did you hear me moan? That was for you, Love. You were what I was imaging,” I breathe, tipping my head towards hers. 
“No-”
“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” 
“Yes, I heard you Tommy. It was a beautiful sound.” She finally admits, leaning into my touch and resting her forehead against mine. 
I smile at her, and go back to sit on my bed. When she doesn’t follow, I make the decision then and there. She can watch. 
I begin stroking my cock again, this time keeping my eyes on her. I can see that she’s a little confused, but more aroused than anything. I spot that blush spreading from her cheeks down her neck, and onto her chest. I can see how heavily she’s breathing, her eyes darting between my face and my hand. I let out another moan as I see her hand go up to her breast, palming herself through the fabric of her shirt. She’s as needy as I am, she just won’t admit it. 
I keep my pace, speeding up my hand to keep time with her breathing. The rise and fall of her breast picks up enough that I can feel my end coming near. She’s still watching, waiting to see me finish. I’ve never had an audience before, but I like that she’s the one seeing me. I give my length one last pull, and cum erupts, landing all over my stomach. I keep my hand moving until the last drop comes out, dribbling down my thumb. 
“Come here, Y/N.” I say, motioning her with my finger. 
She approaches me, staring at the mess I’ve made at myself, all at the sight of her. 
“Yes, Tommy?” She questions, that sweet voice dripping in feigned innocence. 
“Open your mouth.” I demand. 
She does as she is told, and I stick my thumb into her waiting mouth. 
“Clean it.” I poke her tongue with my digit, and she closes her mouth around it. 
She swirls her tongue around my thumb, lightly sucking at the calloused skin of my hand. She is very thorough, but if she doesn’t stop, I’m going to take her right here, with every member of my family in this house. She pulls away, letting my thumb go from her mouth with a pop. I move to sit up, heading to the bathroom to clean myself off. Before I have the chance to reach my feet, she pushes me back down, her hand gripping my shoulders. 
“What are ya doing, Love?” 
“I’m cleaning you up, Thomas.” Fuck, even just my name coming from her mouth is almost enough to have me hard again. 
She straddles my knees, bracing her hands on either side of my hips. I just allow her, wanting whatever physical contact she’ll give to me. She lowers her head, bringing it to the bottom of my stomach. She darts her tongue out, licking up the cum that pooled at my waistline. She swallows it, and I am in awe as I watch her. She traces the erratic trail up my body, her mouth leaving warmth in its wake. My skin flushes at her touch, and I jump when she lands her mouth on the ticklish part of my side, where the liquid has started to drip down. She lets out a small laugh and keeps going. Finally, when she has licked every last bit of evidence from my torso, she moves up, the crotch of her pants sitting right on top of my once again hard cock. I don’t move, in fear of not being able to stop, but she leans down, and whispers in my ear. 
“You taste delicious, Tommy.” She darts her tongue out again, letting the warm thing touch my ear before she nips at it with her teeth. 
I go to grab her hips, having had enough of her teasing, but she jumps off of me, landing her feet on the floor. 
“I think I heard Finn calling for me,” She says, turning towards the door where the broken glass still lies. 
She steps to the mess of glass and water and looks down. 
“It’s a shame about your water, Love, I’m sure you’re parched.” She smirks, stepping over the shards and sending me a wink before she closes the door. 
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crevicedwelling · 2 months
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How do you breed bugs? Do they just go at it as soon as they’re capable of reproducing? Are they ever picky? Do you just open their container one day and suddenly find eggs you didn’t expect? I think about this every time breeding is mentioned, I’m curious on how it’s intentionally done.
vastly different for every animal, but I’ll try to condense it here; also I mainly have experience with the taxa I talk about below and don’t really know much about breeding scarab beetles, butterflies, shrimp & crabs etc.
the most basic stuff is things like isopods, some millipedes, and many cockroaches, which are kept in colonies and can breed freely—as you said most do so as soon as they can (I’ve seen pregnant isopods 1/4th of their maximum adult size). many cockroaches and all isopods are live-bearing, though, so there frequently aren’t visible eggs involved!
certain species of the above taxa need special care to trigger breeding or hatching: a cooling/drying/heating/moistening period of eggs or adults to mimic the seasons in nature. many desert or temperate species need this sort of climate control. in some cases these requirements are so strict that the species will not breed in culture—Orthoporus ornatus is a SW US species that has never been reliably bred; Asbolus death feigning beetles from the same area are usually collected as adults and kept on sand but larvae cannot successfully develop without richer organic material and humidity control, so sadly most people do not breed them even though it’s just a little more effort.
for solitary, cannibalistic predators like mantises, spiders, and centipedes that must be kept alone, one is usually introduced to the other under human supervision to make sure they’ll get along. feeding the hungrier sex (often females) may make them less prone to eating their mates; many mantises are best paired while the female is already occupied with food. tarantula egg sacs are often pulled from the mother and incubated artificially; spiders aren’t my thing and I don’t know fully why this is done (easier to catch and monitor health than 60 baby fuzzies down a deep burrow, I guess). scolopendromorph centipedes are dedicated mothers but will eat their own eggs if disturbed, so you’ve got to keep them dark and totally quiet with no food for several months until the kids are mobile.
sexing certain taxa is difficult too—in tarantulas and mantises sexual dimorphism can be extreme, whereas in most centipedes sexes are identical to the human eye and must be anesthetized and manually probed to tell.
some scorpions (all scorps are livebearing too) and some cockroaches, for example, are parthenogenetic, which means females just clone themselves and need no partner, which is a reproductive strategy that lends itself to colony keeping. certain stick insects and mantises can be facultative parthenogens that can pop out viable kids if they haven’t mated, but apparently these aren’t always the healthiest and pairing is best when possible.
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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 9 months
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The Wedding
Y/N is stressed planning for their wedding and Harry can’t seem to do anything right.
Warnings: angst, sad ending, explicit language
Word Count: 1.2k
Y/N gazed at the bling on her finger, the stone catching in the sunlight. It had been 6 months since she had said yes and wedding planning was in full swing. Of course with Harry being CEO of one of the largest Fortune 500 companies in the world, their wedding was all any of the tabloids were talking about.
Harry and Y/N. London’s power couple. There were now less than 2 months before the big day and Y/N had everything under control. Well… she thought she did. Y/N sighed and rubbed her temples as she stared at the seating chart, a massive binder beside her. A steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of her as Harry kissed the top of her head before sitting down next to her.
“Y/N. You’ve been staring at those charts for the last two hours. Why don’t you take a break?” She raised an eyebrow before taking a deep breath.
“Take a break? Are you kidding me? Our wedding is in 2 months Harry. And the seating plan still isn’t finished. I still haven’t bought my dress, you haven’t been to get a tux and we haven’t booked the flowers. We haven’t booked the flowers Harry!” He chuckled before tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“It’s going to be fine Y/N. Ok let me help. We can have our parents seated together on table 2… wait. Your mom isn’t on this list?” Y/N sighed as Harry looked up at her quizzically.
“I don’t know if I want to invite her. We still haven’t worked out all of our issues and I don’t need her coming in and running the whole show.”
“Why don’t you invite her for a visit? You need to work things out and I’m sure she would love nothing more than to be there for you on our day.” Y/N took a large sip of her coffee, shaking her head violently.
“Nope. No way Harry. I can’t deal with her right now. I’m stressed enough as it is.”
“But maybe if you tried you could-”
“I said NO Harry. Stop pushing it.” She turned her attention back to the seating chart, shutting him out completely. Harry watched her for a few moments before shaking his head and walking to the study. She’s just overwhelmed, he told himself. We’re going to be fine.
~
3 weeks later Y/N felt like she was drowning. She had found her dress but it was the wrong size since she had lost so much weight for the wedding. Everyone was getting on her nerves. Even Harry. Well… especially Harry. She heard the front door open then close and tore her gaze away from her planner to see Harry come in through the front door. Noticeably, without a tux. He leant down to kiss her hello, before noticing her annoyed glare.
“Everything ok hun?”
“Harry… where’s your tux?” Y/N asked coolly. His expression turned to confusion.“Y/N, what are you talking about? You told me last week to pick it up on Wednesday. It’s- he checked the date on his phone- shit. I thought it was Tuesday. Doesn’t matter, I'll just go tomorrow.” Y/N slammed her book shut before glaring at him once more.
“You can’t just “go tomorrow.” They’re closed for the next 3 weeks Harry. You won’t have time to make any adjustments if it’s wrong. God why can’t you just listen for once?!” She bit out frustrated.
Harry laughed dryly.
“Why can’t I just listen for once? Jesus Y/N, I have been listening to you for the past 6 months complain about each tiny thing that has gone wrong. Big deal. I forgot to collect it. I’ll go and get it when I can. Calm down.” Y/N stood up from the couch seething.
“Calm down? Are you fucking serious? I am so busy Harry. I have a company to run and the wedding of the year to plan. Have you seen these tabloids? I am so sick of all of them asking whether or not I’m having a baby because I seem to have ‘gained a little weight’ lately. I’m asking you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. What have you done to help me Harry? I am so sick of you.”
“Oh my god Y/N what the hell is wrong with you? It’s our wedding, it’s not the hunger games. No one is dying if it isn’t perfect. I don’t understand why you-” The doorbell rang, silencing the both of them.
Y/N stalked over to the door and wrenched it open.
“My baby!” Y/N spat out a mouthful of blonde hair as she was brought into a bone-crushing hug.
“I’ve missed you so much! And a wedding? When Harry called me last week to invite me, I just couldn’t believe it!” Y/N tugged out of the hug shooting a death glare at her fiance.
“Harry did what?” Lauren Williams beamed at her daughter, oblivious to the tension in the room.
“He invited me to the wedding honey.” She repeated patiently. Lauren moved around to give Harry a hug.
“I can’t wait to help you with everything sweetie. Have you chosen a dress? Can I see? What about flowers? Because they can be hard to-”
“Mom,” Y/N said through gritted teeth. “I just need to have a quick chat with Harry ok?”
Y/N dragged Harry to the spare bedroom down the hall to make sure Lauren couldn’t hear them.
“Ok what the fuck Harry? I specifically told you I didn’t want her here!” Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“I thought it would be better for you guys to sort out your issues before the wedding but it seems like we have some stuff to work out ourselves.” Y/N huffed before crossing her arms over her chest.
“Yeah? No kidding. This is another example of you not listening. You don’t make an effort Harry and it drives me insane since I’m here fighting for this wedding. For us.” Harry snapped.
“Well if it’s so difficult for you then maybe we should call off the wedding! This clearly isn't working for us anymore! He yelled.
Y/N’s mouth snapped shut, her anger replaced with sadness. Her eyes glistened with tears and her bottom lip trembled.
“Are you… serious?” She asked quietly. “You just want to give up on us?” Because of an argument?” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration evident.
“One argument? All we do is argue! I haven’t had a single conversation with you that hasn’t ended with one of us screaming in the last 2 weeks. I don’t know what you want from me Y/N! I’m trying. I swear to god I’m fucking trying.”
“So is that what we’re doing then? Calling it off?”
“No Y/N I didn’t mean that. I just-”
“No, you made it pretty clear what you meant.” She let the tears fall freely now, dodging around him to get through the door, grabbing her purse off the table ignoring the confused look from her mother.
“Y/N, come back! We can work this out.”
“I have to get out of here Harry.” She rushes out onto the street, tears clouding her vision, her one goal being to get to her car. She doesn’t hear Harry screaming her name until it’s too late. The car hits her just as she looks up, but she’s unconscious before she can even feel the pain.
A/N: 🫠
Taglist:
@lukesaprince @intimacywithceline @styleslover-1994
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604to647 · 27 days
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Mi Galleta (Part 1 - Ginger Molasses)
5.9K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader
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Summary: You meet Pero Tovar, the grumpy bouncer of a high-end restaurant your friend really wants to eat at, and over the course of one week, you try to convince him to grant you and your friends access.
Warnings: Kind of a silly premise, but let's go with it! Fluff (Pero has one dirty thought), lots of food (including dishes I made up in my mind), cute nickname (won't spoil).
A/N: I love food and I love Pero? And I know Pero loves food, so I said, let's put him in the restaurant business 🤭 Did I mention that this whole thing was born from a dream? All cute dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰 Series Masterlist
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“Uggghhh!! I don’t understand how you’re supposed to eat here??!”
Your friend Dorothy is having an absolute fit, bordering on a tantrum, and you can’t help but bite down on your lip to keep from laughing.  Normally, you can diffuse Dorothy’s rage with a well-timed joke and a hug, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to work just yet.  Better let her exhaust herself a little more first.
“It’s like this restaurant doesn’t want people to come!!”
“Well, maybe it’s not worth going to then?” asks your other friend Eloise in a helpful tone, which seems like a miscalculation because Dorothy’s arms flail in the air erratically at the question.
“Of course, we have to go!  It’s only the hottest restaurant opening; everyone is talking about it!  We have to be there!!”  Dorothy crosses her arms and exhales with an exaggerated pout.
Very gently you put your arms around her and pat her arm soothingly, “A new restaurant opens, like, every week.  We can’t go to them all?”
Dorothy looks like she’s going to cry, “But I want to go to this one!  And the fact that they’re making it so exclusive is making me want to go MORE.”  You giggle and kiss the top of her head.  Some people (okay maybe a lot of people), might say that Dorothy is a brat, but you love her to bits.  And Eloise too.  Of all your friends, the three of you are the closest, having known each other the longest.  There are a lot of misconceptions about kids that go to expensive prep schools, the biggest being that you don’t make friends, you make connections <insert eye-roll>.   You’ve known these two women since your days of school uniforms and college prep classes; you’ve seen each other through thick and thin, no one knows you better and is quicker to uplift and support you whenever you need.  They are the dearest, most loyal and steadfast friends a person could ever ask for and you dare anyone to say differently. 
“Okay,” you say, not one to give up on anything, even if it’s your friend’s short-term dream of eating in a restaurant that apparently doesn’t want any patrons, “what do we know?”
“Food and wine critics have been hinting that a major restauranteur is opening a new location this month and it’s going to be called ‘Lin’.  There’s no phone number you can call to make a reservation.  There haven’t been any private or soft opening invitations sent out.  There is no information or even contact information online.  The only thing I know is the location, and that’s only because my wine guy is supplying the restaurant and he told me he’s been making big deliveries in preparation for the opening.”
“Right, your wine guy,” you chuckle.  Of course Dorothy has a wine guy.  There's not much Dorothy doesn’t have. Nor Eloise.  Or you, for that matter.  You’ve always been more than aware of the privileges and good fortune bestowed upon your life by the sheer cosmic luck of having been born who you are and to your loving family – for the entirety of your life, you’ve been lucky enough to never want for anything, nor suffered any great misfortune or injustice.  You know you’ve done nothing to deserve such advantages and so you’ve vowed never to take any of it for granted.  You studied hard, work hard at a job you love, give back generously, and intend to make your way in the world with a positive impact on those around you, the way your parents have modelled.  And right now, Dorothy is in need of some positivity.
“Well go on, what’s the address then?” you ask; Dorothy perks up at this and shows you the address she has pulled up on her maps app.  “That’s right by my office!” you exclaim, surprised, “How about this?  I’ll go and poke around on my lunch break this week and see what I can find out?”
Dorothy squeals and throws her arms around you, and Eloise comes over laughing to join in the reverie.  Joyfully, the three of you spend the rest of the afternoon cooking up schemes for your investigative adventure on Monday.
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Monday
You look up at the building number, then back down at your phone to double check the address.  This doesn’t look like a restaurant at all, never mind a trendy one on the precipice of opening its doors; this looks like… an office building.  You peek through the double glass doors and see exactly what you would expect in an office lobby: an information desk, a few modern design chairs arranged into a makeshift waiting area, and an elevator bank.  Pushing lightly on the doors, you’re surprised to find that they open easily; you step in to the quiet lobby and with a slight trepidation call out, “Hello? Is there anyone here?”  Met with silence, you walk in a little further and look around – not finding anything remarkable, no signs or directions for Lin or any other clues, you make your way to the elevator bank; surely there will be some sort of building directory near the elevators that can tell you something.
“May I help you with something, miss?”
You practically squeak from surprise before turning around to face the deep, accent-lilted baritone voice that snuck up on you.  Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t the tall, broad shouldered, brute of a man scowling at you.  His impossible width and towering presence, coupled with the scar over his left eye should be enough to frighten you, but his chocolate brown eyes flash a momentary softness that has you more curious about him than anything.
“Oh yes please!  Do you happen to know which way to the restaurant?” you figure pretending to know more than you do can’t hurt.
The stranger’s countenance shifts to something softer, something more like disapproval rather than outright distain (an improvement!) and he hesitates, as if deciding how to answer.  Then suddenly, as if to proceed before he can talk himself out of it, he gives a slight nod to the elevators.
Though he maintains his outward glower, Pero can’t help but be charmed by the gleeful smile you give him as you press the button to call the elevator; you look giddy with excitement, and he almost wishes he doesn’t have to disappoint you. 
Once the elevator doors open, you step in looking for any additional signs or clues on where you’re supposed to go; finding none, you decide you’ll just try every floor until you find what you’re looking for.  However, when you go to press the first button, it lights up at your touch but quickly dims when you let go. Same with the next button. And the next.  Holding the elevator door open with one hand, you peek your head out to find the tall stranger waiting for you at the end of the elevator bank, almost expectantly.  Although still wearing his scowl, you’re sure you detect a small smile itching to escape, struggling valiantly to tug up the corner of his mouth.  Ever so sweetly you call out, “Excuse me!  Do you know how I can get access to these floors?”
In response, Pero wordlessly holds up a plastic fob he retrieves from his pocket and smirks (there it is).
You chuckle to yourself; this is shaping up to be quite the puzzle.  You love puzzles.
The gatekeeper to the restaurant has already turned to silently return to his post when you step off the elevator and follow him; you find him sitting behind the information desk, looking sternly at his laptop and some papers.  You’re positive that he’s only pretending to 1) fill out the paperwork and 2) ignore you, so you don’t feel bad about the Grade A pestering you’re about to inflict on him.
“Soooooo… who gets to decide who you let up?” you chirp, cheerily.
Silence.
Your sweet tone does not waver one bit, “Is there a list?  Or like, an application, to get on the list?”
Silence.  Then something like a sigh.
“There must be a list.  How does one, get on the list?” you smile because you know you’re wearing him down.
“You won’t know until you try.”  Finally!  A response!
You make a big show of pretending to think, pursing your lips and tapping them gently with your perfectly manicured nails, “So bribery.  Cool, cool.”
Silence.
“Do you want… my sandwich?” you hold out the lunch bag you have in your hand from your favourite sandwich shop.
“No, thank you.”  Pero’s not looking at you; he’s afraid he might crack if he does.
“Good.  This is my favourite sandwich,” if you’re not mistaken, you think you see the stranger’s shoulders shake a little, as if suppressing a laugh.
But still, more silence. 
“Are you here everyday?” you tilt your head questioningly, and even though the man is not looking at you, you give him your widest doe eyes and softest pleading expression.
Pero almost wishes he hadn’t looked up, so instantly disarmed he is by the innocent look you’re giving him.  For a moment, he imagines what it might be like to have you giving him this same look from between his legs while on your knees, before he forces himself to snap out of his daydream with something close to a groan.  To cover up this noise, he gives a curt nod.
And then, although you couldn’t possibly be reading his filthy mind, you say, “May I come… back?” and Pero almost perishes when he hears the first three words of your question.  He once again gives you a brusque tip of his head so not to betray any of his thoughts.  Perfectly satisfied, you throw him another heart-stopping smile before practically flouncing out of the lobby, leaving Pero feeling positively thrown at what just happened.    
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Tuesday
You stand in front of the information desk, patiently waiting for Pero to look up.  It takes him a few minutes to look at you, but you don’t mind.  You rock back and forth on your heels, taking in the finer design details of the lobby that you hadn’t had an opportunity to admire yesterday.
“Hello again,” his tone is gruff, but you think not unfriendly.
Excited, you brace yourself on the desk and lean forward, eyes full of mirth, “Hi!  Are you ready for your bribe?”
Looking impassive, Pero leans back in his chair and gestures openly with his hands, “Alright. Show me what you got.”
Pulling a container out of your bag, you place it in front of him and smile expectantly.
Pero examines the container with suspicion, but when he opens it, he does so with mock trepidation, as if the contents might explode and you giggle at his theatrics.  It’s the sweetest sound Pero’s ever heard.  Looking into the container, he sees it’s filled with cookies; he doesn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t home baked goods.
He picks up a cookie and bites into it gingerly, trying to ignore how adorable he finds your look of anticipation.
“So?”
Pero arches his eyebrow in silence, a question in response to your question.
“Have I successfully bribed you into letting me and my friends up to the restaurant?” your eyes wide with hope.
“No, sorry.”
You can’t help but let your face fall, “Oh shoot.  Were they not good?”
“Oh no, it’s very good… just not my favourite cookie,” Pero knows he could lie to you, but he’s sure you wouldn’t want that.
“Oh!” This you can work with, “Ok, if we’re going to do this, I’m going to need you to rank it, so I know if I’m getting closer.”
You lean over his desk and help yourself to a note pad; pulling a pen from your purse, you write the date, then neatly next to it “Ginger Molasses” and “_ /10” before pushing the paper back towards the bouncer.  Pero tries not to smile while you impatiently watch him as he makes a show of thinking, tapping his fingers against his lip much like you did yesterday; he carefully pencils in a “7”. 
“Not bad, not bad, not bad,” you chant to yourself, invigorated as you get up to go.  “I’ll grab the container next time,” you say over your shoulder while giving the man a little wink.  Pero waits until you’re gone before stuffing his face with your delicious cookies.
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Wednesday
The next day, you return on your lunch break with white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.  You’re not sure, but the bouncer looks like he’s expecting you; at least his scowling face seems to relax slightly when he sees you.
Keen to get started, you hurry through the usual pleasantries before quickly depositing the box in front of Pero.  Inwardly, he’s amused by your eagerness.
You burst out laughing when Pero holds up a finger after he opens your container and reaches down next to him to open the door of a mini fridge and pulls out a bottle of milk.  Confirming what he thought yesterday, that your laugh is the loveliest sound he’s ever heard, Pero’s chests puffs in pride at having been able to draw it out of you. He makes a big show of biting down into an oversized cookie for your amusement and takes a comical swig of milk before pulling out the pad you had used yesterday for the cookie rankings.
When you try to peer over him to see the score he’s giving, his hunches over and covers the paper with his arm, huffing dramatically.  You giggle some more.  You have to admit the bouncer is growing on you, his scary glare clearly a facade for work, because he’s actually quite funny.  And cute. 
Pero leans back and turns the pad towards you.  You see he’s written neatly under your writing from yesterday: the date and “White Chocolate Macadamia 7.5/10”
“Oh!  It’s an improvement at least!” you say with pride.
Pero nods, though not smiling, no longer bothering to put on his customary frown, “It’s very good.  But still not my favourite cookie.”
“That’s okay, I’m doing better, that’s what matters.”  Pero thinks that if he could be responsible for the smile that’s currently on your face for the rest of his days, he could die happy.
Then to his surprise, you pull out two more containers from your bag; for a moment, Pero thinks he’s in for another cookie, but when he leans forward curiously, he sees that the containers contain some kind of pasta salad.
Holding out one of the containers to the bouncer, you offer, almost shyly, “Can you have lunch?”
“No.” 
Oh.  Maybe this was too much.  Your face falls a little, before nodding, “I guess you’re working, sorry.”
Pero falters a bit when he sees your sweet face looking sad; he knows his grumpy exterior can put people off, but he didn’t mean to do so this time.  Not to you. “You can have lunch though,” he gestures to the other chair behind the desk, next to him.
You brighten immediately, face breaking out into a big grin, “Really?”
“Yes, really,” Pero pushes his chair in a little to give you some more room to pass behind of him. 
Happily, you plop down on the free seat and get out two forks.  You lay one on a container and push it towards him, and pick up the other to start digging into your salad, “Is it a rule you can’t eat here?  I hope you don’t get in trouble for the cookies.”
Touched by your concern, Pero explains, “There’s no rule, but it doesn’t look very intimidating if I’m savouring a baked good while turning people away from the restaurant.”
Mouth full of food, you cover your mouth daintily with your hand, “Why do you turn them away?”
“The owners are really passionate about this restaurant; so much time and heart has gone into every aspect, from the menu to the decor.  Lin is a fusion of Spanish and Chinese cuisines, with some Latin influences; all these cultures are rich in history, beloved and cherished by their people and the owners.  The restaurant is named for one of their wives.  They just want the people who come and eat here first to be people that will truly immerse themselves and enjoy the experience and food, appreciate it for the labour of love that it is.  Not people here for clout.”
“That’s really sweet.  I didn’t know Lin held such a special meaning,” you smile, genuinely touched as Pero tucks the containers you brought him away for later, “How can you tell who’s here for clout and who isn’t?”
“Just my gut,” Pero says simply; he reaches into his drawer and pulls out the container you left him with yesterday, cleaned.
You’re surprised and gratified, “Oh, thank you!  You didn’t have to clean it!”
“You would have done the same.”
“Well, I mean… yes, but…”
“Then you deserve the same back,” his tone kind, but factual.
You grin as you look down, taking the container before looking back up at Pero with an amused look, “You seem fairly sure in what you know about me, but you don’t even know my name.”
“I’ve just been calling you ‘Cookie’ in my head.”
You feel your face flush at the idea that he’s given you a pet name and tell him he can call you ‘Cookie’ if he wants, but also give him your name.
“Pero Tovar,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand; when you shake it, you’re pleasantly surprised at the gentleness with which he touches you.  You can feel a strength and self-assuredness in his grip, but the way he handles you is almost careful.  Like you’re precious.
“Ok, Pero Tovar,” you beam, loving the opportunity to let his name roll off your tongue, “what’s your favourite part about working here?”
“The bribes,” he quips without missing a beat before he winks at you.  You shouldn’t feel your heart skip a beat from such a small gesture, but you’re filled with a lot of fondness for Pero suddenly and you look back down at your salad so he can’t see the way you’re grinning.
He does see, however, and he finds himself experiencing a similar fondness for you.  He earnestly answers your question, telling you about the delicious food, the months of recipe R&D all the staff took part in, and the hardworking team they’ve put together upstairs.
The remainder of your lunch hour passes too quickly for your liking.  Your conversation with Pero never wanes; you find that not only do you have a love of food in common, but can apparently both talk about it for hours.  Pero is funny and thoughtful; something that is readily reflected in his more natural expression.  You almost laugh out loud each time a potential restaurant patron comes in and he immediately flips a switch and turns on what you now suspect is just a scary work persona.  Especially if once that person is out of sight, he immediately softens his handsome features and goes back to telling you about the best gelato he’s ever had.
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Thursday
The following day, you’re met with a surprise as you approach Pero’s building; normally anytime you run into your friends unexpectedly, it’s a pleasant surprise, but it doesn’t appear to be very pleasant for Eloise and Dorothy today.  In fact, Dorothy looks downright surly. 
“Babes!  What are you doing here?  What’s wrong?” you exclaim, both confused and concerned.
“Ugh!” Dorothy actually stomps her foot, “That neanderthal won’t let us up for lunch.  What is it going to take?  He won’t even tell us why or give us a chance to change his mind.”
“Pero?” you ask, still unsure of what happened, “You talked to Pero?”
Eloise steps in, because Dorothy looks like she’s about to have an aneurism at the sound of his name, “We finished up some of the content we were making nearby, so we thought we’d come down and give getting in a shot, since you said you don’t think it’s impossible.  We figured, best case, you’re coming down here anyways – maybe we could all have lunch at Lin together, and worst thing would be we don’t get in, but then we’d be meeting up with you and we could go get lunch somewhere else?”
“NO,” Dorothy grits through her teeth, “The worst thing would be if we had to deal with that self-important ass.  Who died and made him king?!”
After what Pero told you yesterday about the owners of Lin and how they want their patrons to experience the restaurant, you know exactly why Pero didn’t let your friends up, but you’re not about to tell them lest you want to hear more expletives directed at him.  Maybe you can help smooth it over.
“Do you guys think you can give me ten minutes to talk to him?  Then let’s go to Quattro for lunch?” you ask, picking one of Dorothy’s favourite restaurants in an effort to placate her.
“Come on, Dorie,” Eloise tugs at Dorothy’s sleeve, employing the nickname only she and you are allowed to use, “There’s some really good lighting down the street.  Let’s get a couple more shots for Instagram.”
“FINE,” Dorothy begrudgingly agrees, then points at you, “but ten minutes only.  Then we’re coming in to rescue you from that asshat.”  You don’t tell her that her scowl right now could give that asshat’s scowl a run for its money.
When you walk in to the building and approach the front desk, your heart melts when you see Pero’s face crack a small smile upon seeing you, “Hey, Cookie.”
As you approach the edge of his desk, he moves to scoot forward in his chair like he did yesterday when he invited you to eat with him, “Can you stay to have lunch again today?”
Staying where you are, you shake your head and give him a look of regret, “No, sorry.  Not today.” You shouldn’t but you feel your heart warm a little at the way his face falls in disappointment.  You reach into your bag and bring out two containers, one with a sandwich for him, and the other with today’s cookie offering: salted caramel.
“I was going to stay, but now it seems that I have two very upset friends that I need to take out to lunch,” you give him a small playful smile so he knows it’s not (too) serious.
It takes him a second to make the connection, but the instant he does, his face reverts back into the deep scowl he probably gave your friends.  You’re not sure what possesses you, maybe it’s the desire to see the softer expression that he normally reserves for you, but you reach out and touch Pero’s face, your fingers lightly grazing the scruff of his jawline.  He looks at you with a small look of surprise but doesn’t move away.  “Please don’t judge them too harshly,” you ask of him gently, “I know they probably didn’t come off that way, but they’re the exact type of people who would appreciate Lin in the way that the owners hope.  They are very good people, I promise.  And very dear to me.”
Pero doesn’t know how he could ever refuse you anything, the soft lilt of your voice and the eloquence of your words would be enough to convince him of anything he’s sure.  He gives you a little nod and is rewarded with your sweet smile.
He misses your touch immediately when you withdraw your hand from his face; so much so that when you ask if he’s ready for today’s cookie, he reaches out to place his hand on your waist before nodding.
You gasp a little when he holds you, wondering how you got here, from strangers to exchanging small familiar touches in less than a week; but you can’t say it doesn’t feel right.  You don’t know what this connection with Pero is or where it’s going, but you know you don’t want it to end.
Opening the container, you tilt it towards him and watch him select a cookie.  Giving it a once over, Pero takes a big bite and chews thoughtfully as you wait for his verdict.  You don’t try to peek at the scorecard today, but when he shows you, it’s with an apologetic look on his face, “Sorry, Cookie.  Don’t be mad.”
“Oh no…” your eyes widen when looking for the number, “… a 2??!” You look up at Pero, horrified.  “Did I do something wrong?  Mix up an ingredient?”  You grab a cookie from the container and take a bite; it tastes as expected, no surprise ingredient or taste.  Oh no.  It tastes the way you think it should and he hates it.   
It’s so silly.  People are allowed to not like your cookies, but you hadn’t realized how badly you had wanted to impress Pero until you… didn’t.  He’s being very nice about it, still eating the one he’s holding in his hand, but you think you might cry; although you try not to, your face assumes the corresponding saddened expression anyways, “Oh, I’m so sorry they’re not good.”  You attempt to close the container and take it away.
Pero’s heart nearly breaks at the look on your face, and he chastises himself for being the cause.  Wanting more than anything to make you feel better, he gently takes back the container, “They are very good.  Really, Cookie,” he tries to convince you when you look up at him, dubious, “I’m just not a big fan of caramel, that’s all.  They’re still delicious.”
You can’t tell if he’s lying just to make you feel better, but a little part of you likes the idea that he would care to. 
Desperate now to make you smile, Pero suggests, “How about you and your friends come back tonight for dinner at Lin?”
“No!  No way,” you practically shout, to Pero’s surprise, “Not for a 2!! I didn’t earn it.”
He concedes a little, “It’s more like a 3, maybe even 4.  They’re delicious, just not for me.”
Shaking your head, you won’t budge, “No, no, no.  I don’t want your pity points.  It’s a 2, and that’s the final score.  And that’s not a sufficient bribe.  I’ll try again tomorrow.”
Pero breathes a little sigh of relief upon hearing that you plan on coming back.  When he reaches into his desk to get you your cleaned containers from yesterday, he confirms, “Ok, tomorrow it is then.”
As you’re packing away your containers, he continues, “…until then, I have something for you.”
You look up in surprise, “Something for me?”
“Of course. You bring me delicious food everyday, it would be ungentlemanly of me not to return the favour.”  With that, he pulls out a takeout box from the mini fridge that he’s been saving for you.
You’re delighted; you’re not sure what it is but you’re touched by Pero’s thoughtfulness.
“It’s the shrimp toast I told you about yesterday.”
You squeal, “From upstairs?”
He nods as you happily take the box from him; it’s one of the Chinese-Spanish fusion dishes that he had described to you that supposedly exemplifies the type of cuisine Lin does best.  He’s been looking forward to sharing it with you and seeing what you think.
“Oh Pero, thank you so much!  I’ve been thinking about this and how it might taste since you told me about it yesterday!  Is it okay if I share it with my friends?” you ask, shyly.
Of course, you would think of sharing with others; Pero nods his permission.
“Thank you, thank you!” you’re beaming and before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean down and give Pero a kiss on the cheek and promptly skip out the front doors.
Hand to his cheek, Pero watches as you wave over your friends, the same two women he had turned away from the restaurant not 15 minutes ago, and sees you excitedly present the box to them.  The three of you open the box, and peer in eagerly, each reaching in to take out one shrimp toast; you wait for each other and adorably cheers your food before each taking a big but elegant bite.
He can’t help but grin as he listens to your collective squeals and exclamations of approval that he can hear even through the closed doors.  The flavour explosion on your tongue is incredible, the flavours of the two cuisines melding perfectly; each bite is perfect.  “So gooood!” Eloise moans, and the three of you dance around happily while savouring a second toast each.  When you’re done, you wave enthusiastically at Pero through the glass and give him a big thumbs up, then you and your friends chorus “Thank you, Pero!!!” before setting off for lunch, giggling.
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Friday
You had mulled over which cookie to bake all evening.  Pero doesn’t seem to like the cookies that are too sweet, which kind of feels in line with his personality, so you settle on Oatmeal Raisin; an oldie but a goodie.
Unable to contain the skip in your step when you’re heading to his building today, you’re feeling positively giddy.  And it’s all due to Pero.  He’s so different that you initially thought – he’s thoughtful, and funny, and capable of unexpected kindness.  Of course, he’s still a bit rough, bordering on fearsome, but you think it lends itself to his particular brand of handsomeness; his scruffiness and that scar over his left eye have invaded your dreams more than once this week.
Before you can even take out today’s cookies though, Pero invites you to sit down behind the desk and asks you to wait for him while he disappears into an opening in the far corner of the lobby.  You wait there for about five minutes, amusing yourself with what you might do if a restaurant patron were to come in, when you hear the ding of an unseen elevator and see Pero reemerge from the same alcove.
He’s carrying a little tray with a cover on it; setting it down in front of you, he says with exaggerated flair, “Lunch is served, princesa” and lifts the little silver dome.
The only thing that can distract you from the new nickname is the mouthwatering smell of the food that's on the plate in front of you.  Pero watches you examine the dish and is mollified when you ask, “Is that... stewed pork belly in an arepa??!”  Proud that you got it right away, he gestures for you to try it, and you enthusiastically pick up the stuffed patty and take a giant bite.  You can’t help but moan.  The rich savoury flavour of the pork is perfectly offset by the crisp veggies and the light spread inside the bread; the softness of the fat positively melts into the crispy texture of the warm arepa.  You’re in heaven. 
“Good?” Pero can’t help but feel a sense of pride from your obvious approval of the dish.
“Omigod, s’good,” you mumble, mouth still full. When you’re done swallowing, you feel a surge of tenderness towards the man in front of you who seems to share your love language of food, “Thank you, Pero!  This is so amazing.  Lin has to have some of the best food I’ve ever tasted.  This and the shrimp toast from yesterday are all so well executed and flavourful, and all so incredibly unique.  You can taste the love the owners put in; please, please pass on my compliments if you don’t mind?  This place is going to be such a success.”
Pero sits back down, looking at you with a look that you can’t quite place, something between adoration and amusement as you continue to stuff your face.  In between bites, you hand him your box of cookies, which he eagerly opens.  Unbeknownst to you, he’s already decided that he would give you and your friends the go ahead today; after yesterday, he knew he would do anything to put a smile on your face.  But he also didn’t expect you to have guessed his favourite cookie on the fourth try.  Devouring two cookies in a row, he takes out the now familiar pad of paper and marks down today’s score: 10, circled three times for effect.
You practically squeal in excitement, eyes wide in disbelief, “Really?! You liked it that much?”
Pero nods, thrilled at your reaction, “Loved it, Cookie.  Oatmeal raisin is my favourite.”
You throw your arms around him in a big hug, and revel in the warmth that flows through you when you feel his strong arms encircle your waist.  Getting a hold of yourself, you sit back down in your chair, making yourself presentable with your back straight and your hands clasped in your lap, “So, Mr. Pero Tovar, have I successfully bribed my way upstairs?”
Unable to supress his chuckle, Pero answers in equal seriousness, “I would say so.  How about tonight at eight.  Dinner for three, I presume?”
“Oh yes!  Thank you!! Eloise and Dorothy are going to be so pleased! And I am as well, of course,” you look at him with some renewed shyness, “Will you be working tonight?”
“I will.  I’ll probably be off before you finish dinner, but I’ll be here to let you up.”
“Ack!  I can’t wait!” You ask if you can help Pero with the dirty dishes, but he waves you off.  You leave him with the quiche you brought him for lunch before waving goodbye and texting the girls the good news.
---
At 8 p.m. on the dot, you, Dorothy and Eloise, walk through the front doors of Lin; Pero is in the elevator bank letting the people in front of you up, so the three of you wait patiently by his desk.  When he turns, he has his signature work scowl on, but immediately softens when he sees you.
“Hey Cookie, ready to go up?”
You nod happily, and introduce your friends.
“Oh, we’ve met,” Pero’s eyes narrow before he smirks, to which Eloise looks bashful and Dorothy puts on her most innocent expression.
Once you’re in the elevator, Dorothy pokes you in the back and gives you an encouraging look; taking a deep breath, you stop Pero’s hand when he reaches in with the fob and gently push him backwards, walking him back down the elevator bank.  Pero looks confused, “Is something wrong, princesa?”
Looking at him innocently, you ask, “Pero, may I have your phone?”
He unlocks and hands it to you without question, curious.  You quickly snap a selfie and put yourself in as a new contact with your phone number, before handing it back, “In case you get a craving for any cookies.”
Pero blushes when he realizes what you’ve done, but as he walks you back towards the elevator, he does so with his hand resting comfortably on your lower back.  Leaning in to press the elevator buttons for you, he whispers, “Can I call you later, Cookie?”
You answer with a quick peck to his cheek and a small nod; his grinning face is the last thing you see before the elevator doors close.
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