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gomzwrites · 11 months

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Task force 141 found out about your soft spots

Summary: You’re one of the members in the taskforce, and you’re one of the more quiet, self-reserved and stoic soldiers among them. They didn’t mind since they respected your personal space, but at some point, they saw just a glimpse of your rather different, softer side. a/n: I’ve had this idea in mind for a long time and just wanted to get this out there, English is not my main language so I apologize for any mistakes along the way! This is also my first fic so feedbacks are appreciated :] Tags: incorrect military terms/training, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic, x gn!reader, reader's text is in purple Part 2 is out! PLEASE DO NOT RESHARE MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

Captain John Price

You were on a mission with Price in another city, stalking and trailing the target, when suddenly the target decided to take a turn and entered a cafe. With the captain’s signal, both of you followed and took a spot in one of the corners in the warm, bustling cafe. It was a perfect atmosphere; the cafe was not necessarily noisy, but the number of people and music were busy enough for you and your captain to stay hidden and blend in well. You kept a keen eye on the target, noticing that he was in the queue and, so far, not presenting any signs of danger or threats. The captain gave your foot a nudge as he diverted your attention to the young waitress beside the table that you didn’t notice. "Hi! What would you like to order?" The waitress spoke in the local language that you didn't understand, but you knew she was most likely trying to take an order with the way she held a small notepad and a pen. You gave a small nod as you glanced at Captain for a moment, who was also reading the menu. You do the same, only frowning slightly as you couldn't read anything as well, and because you wanted to get this over with, you randomly pointed at one item to the waitress as she smiled and jotted down your order.

When the waitress walked away, you followed the captain’s gaze on the target; it seemed that he was still in line. You're slightly confused but relieved that the target remains in sight. Not long after, the drinks ordered previously arrived, but your eyes remained fixated on the sketchy figure. It wasn't until the Captain cleared his throat that you broke your gaze and stared down at the table. You froze slightly at the sight before you.

You watched a little wiggle action of the foam on top of what you assume is coffee before you. Except it's not the normal flat latte art kind of foam, but a huge bear foam with a cute face drawn with chocolate. You blink once, then twice before releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.

This is so cute!!

You thought to yourself internally as you felt yourself smiling, before realising the situation at hand as you snapped your head towards the captain, hoping he didn't see you, and to your relief, his eyes were still glued to the target. You take this opportunity to slowly take out your phone and take a quick picture of the drink before doing the same and observing the target again. As soon as you do, the target made its move and headed to the exit, which made the both of you follow promptly, seemed like he had a bag as well which was definitely not good news. You were a bit disappointed that you were not given the chance to try the cute drink, but you know you have a job to do, so you just hope that perhaps you can take a closer look again at the coffee later on your phone.

What you didn’t know was how the Captain noticed the change in your demeanour when you spotted the drink; he honestly wasn't expecting much from you, thinking you might just ignore it. But he saw from the corner of his eyes just how your eyes widen slightly, how they are shining when you realize what you ordered, and the way your cheeks had a shade of pink on it as you smile. He rarely gets to see you smile, and he found it endearing to think a cold soldier like you has a liking for cute things. He smiled internally as he noticed how you took the photo sneakily when you thought he wasn’t looking.

He made a mental note to bring you to a cafe he knows that have those famous latte art drinks after the mission, just to see you smile like that again.

John Soap MacTavish

The military base has decided to bring in military working dogs to aid in the next mission, which involves scouting and detection for drug detection at the port, where secret drug trafficking from a certain group of terrorists has been reported.

"Soap, you’re assigned to Max and Judy; you’ll have to talk to Sergeant Sam about the training," the Captain says as he walks through the compound. You noticed how Soap seemed to tense slightly as he clenched his jaw; you also noticed how his breath hitched as he stared at the two German shepherds standing on the sides of the dog handler; you knew he had a bad history with canines in general when you stumbled upon his journal once; and seeing how uncomfortable he was, you decided to step up for the job.

"Captain, can I do it instead?" The captain glanced back, his beard shifting as he thinks for a moment before nodding and giving you permission. Soap stared at you upon hearing your voice and gave you an apologetic yet grateful look as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Aye thanks… Let me know if yae ever need something from meh in the future."

He watched as you gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder as you nodded. Unbeknownst to him, you actually own a German Shepherd yourself, and you’re very much a dog person, and you’re excited to start the training with the military dogs. He stood on the side as you approached the two dogs, nodding along to the instructions given by Sam. As you bent down and extended your hand out, the two dogs gave a few sniffs before finally warming up to you, with their tails wagging as they circle your body. He’s impressed with how friendly you seem with animals, and you were natural with the dogs.

After the training, he went around looking for you as he held a bottle of ice-cold mineral water, hoping that he could give it to you since you were training heavily under the hot, blazing sun. As he turned a corner, right behind the shed, he heard a few barks. He softened his steps as he leant in and took a peek behind the wall, and he was glad he did.

Who’s a good boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are! Come here! Oooh, such a big boy are you? You did such a great job with me just now~ oh! No wait wait- aH-!

He watched with a grin as he took in the image before him. You, giggling and rolling on the floor as the dogs lick and nuzzle your face and neck, having fun and relaxing with the dogs. He would almost forget that they were military dogs, and yet, with you? They looked domestic. On top of that, he has never heard you laugh or speak like this before; sure, you were using a baby voice and all as you cooed the dog, but he didn’t care because you have the softest yet brightest giggle, a stark contrast to your usual stoic self. He left after watching you for a while, smiling as he walked away to let you have your moments with the doggies. Next time, he’ll definitely want to join you in the training if it means getting to see this side of you more often.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

You groan as you sit on the passenger side as Gaz drives the Jeep. It was almost 9.30 pm as you were both ordered to buy a few furniture pieces, tables, and chairs specifically as an emergency thanks to Soap breaking them when he was messing around earlier.

"Why can’t we buy it tomorrow?"

Gaz asks as he, too, frowns and crosses his arms as a yawn escapes his mouth.

"We have a meeting with the other members from London tomorrow, and we can’t make them sit on the floor now, can we?"

Captain replied with a sigh as he frowned; he too was tired and annoyed with the situation, but he has a point. Gaz has asked you for help since the furniture needs to be carried, and you followed along (not without silently complaining).

The day has been terrible for you, it seems like bad luck was looming around your shoulders in every moment. Just this morning, you stubbed your toe and you couldn’t find your left sock, then sprained your shoulder slightly during the sparring session with Ghost. Not only that, the sandwiches that you always order for dinner were out of stock, so overall, you’re not having the best day. But who can you blame? You just decided to suck it up as you nod and follow Gaz.

After parking a spot in IKEA, both of you decided to split up to find the respective wood and parts of the tables and chairs that, thankfully, the details of them have been sent to you by the Captain, so that the process can be faster before the store closes for the night. You sigh as you place the last part of the table in the trolley, crossing off the last serial number and name. You walk towards the place that Gaz told you to meet up with before stopping when you walk past the kid's section.

There it is, in all its glory: Djungelskog and the other notable plushies in the corner. Truth be told, you actually own two Blåhaj (they're in your house) and a baby Blåhaj in the quarters. You’re a big fan of plushies, especially the ones from IKEA and Miniso. You just haven't saved up enough cash to bring the big brown bear home. You take a step, then another, inching closer to the tray, until you’re right in front of the bear. You glanced around to make sure no one is around before you gently pick up the bear, thankful that there weren't many people in the first place due to the late hour. Without a second thought, you gave in and squish your face into its tummy as you give a big sigh and hug it tightly, smiling to yourself as you feel the stress dissolving away. Something about burying yourself in the soft cushion of cotton is healing for you; it gives you a safe, warming feeling, and it reminds you of the comfort that you never got much of as a kid.

You gave it a few more squeezes before finally parting ways with the bear, softly nudging its nose a few times as you whispered softly:

I swear I’ll come and bring you home next time I come.

You smile and place the bear back in its original position, glancing at it one last time as you spot Gaz in the distance, then swiftly push the trolley towards him. Gaz pays for the parts, and both of you head to the car. You get ready in your seat and fasten the seatbelt before Gaz speaks up.

"Oh, I forgot something. Give me a sec"

You haven’t even had the chance to ask back as he bolted back into IKEA. What did he forget? All the parts have been bought, and the store is nearing its closing time as well, but whatever it is, you waited patiently.

Maybe it's because of the long day, but as you rested your head on the window, you dozed off while you were waiting and didn’t wake up until you heard the driver's side car door open.

"Sorry it took awhile, we’ll go back now"

You nod sleepily as you murmur. "What did you forget?"

"Oh, don't worry about it", Gaz replies as he presses the gas pedal and promptly drives back to the base. You didn’t question further; you figured he probably needed something himself.

You went straight to bed after dropping off the equipment for Soap and Ghost to handle, immediately passing out as you landed on the soft bed.

The next morning, you were getting ready for the day as you stretched, satisfied that at least the sleep last night was good enough. As you open the door, a soft material lands in your room with a soft “umph” sound, you immediately look down cautiously, and that's when you see it.

Djungelskog, with its head tilted to your side as its fluffy hand remains on its tummy, on your floor. You were confused, and frankly, you were not awake enough to fully comprehend what just happened. But once you connected the dots, you smiled to yourself as you lifted the bear up and hugged it.

You make sure to buy Gaz something next time as a thank you.

Simon Ghost Riley

The day was mundane; after a few gruelling missions, the task force had many reports to do. You’ve opted to do them in one of the empty meeting rooms; you liked doing work in these rooms more than facing the concrete wall of your own quarters. At least here, the table was wide and it was fairly quiet; sometimes Ghost will join you as he feels the same. You enjoy his presence because, unlike the rest of the group, he is one of the few people you like spending time with in silence. Today was no different.

The hours go by quickly with the room filled with nothing but paper shuffling and turning pages. You sigh as you place down your pen and give a big stretch, deciding to take a break as you stand and move towards the door. The big man himself also follows along; you don’t question it; you figured he might need a break too.

As you walked away from the room, you decided to go to the bathroom. You passed by the training hall as you overheard the Captain and Laswell talking over some topics for the upcoming mission, but something caught your attention.

"....My wife brought cheesecake; it's in the fridge…."

Your ears perked up to the sound of cake; you haven’t had any dessert recently, and you do like cheesecake. You make a mental note to take a trip to the mess hall after using the bathroom, hoping to have a slice yourself.

As you make your way to the fridge silently, you approach the kitchen and let out a soft sigh of relief when the place is empty. You slowly open the door of the fridge as you poke your head in and search for any sign of cake. You were about to give up when you couldn’t see any, but you jolted slightly when you felt a pat on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, only to be met by Ghost again, with a plate in his hand. As you look at the plate, which has a slice of cheesecake, your eyes blink with hope as you slowly glance back at him. He gives you a nod as he hands you the plate, and you nod back as well with a smile, happy and grateful that he saved you a slice. You take a seat at one of the stools and grab a fork as you eat the cheesecake happily. Ghost leaned against the counter opposite you as he makes himself a cup of coffee. He watched silently as your mood seems to improve. Earlier, he saw how you stopped in your tracks when you overheard the conversation, how your eyelashes fluttered, and how your steps grew lighter. He immediately went to the kitchen when you head to the bathroom and managed to pry one last slice of Soap before he finished them, hoping to save you a piece when you come by later. As you take the first few bites with your eyes closed, you give a hum of approval as your shoulders drop. It’s not like the cheesecake was extremely good, but you can tell from the texture that it was homemade. You miss baking yourself; the last time you did it was with a roommate before you joined the military. You missed those silly moments as you clumsily mixed the ingredients and argued with your friend to stop adding too much sugar into the batter, or the time your friend made fun of you for baking the hardest brownies that can break cement if thrown at them. You also tend to have favouritism towards home-cooked stuff, no matter who made it; you always liked how the food tends to taste just slightly better. Is it because of comfort? Or the memories that flood your mind when you take in the smell? You honestly don't know; maybe it's both. Or maybe you like the thoughts and love people put into the meals when they cook. You were so lost in thought that you didn't realise you were swinging your feet idly on the stool. The stool was slightly taller than the regular one, and your legs barely touched the floor.

Ghost finds the view a bit charming—to see you relax and content over a slice of cake. It's not that he is complaining; he just never really saw you this comfortable before. He observes you silently and takes note of how you like to munch on your right cheek more than the left, making it puffy. He chuckles to himself when you start swinging your legs too. He's glad that he managed to snatch the last piece of cake, and perhaps in the near future, he’ll bring you some cake to share with you.

•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················•·················• a/n: that's all! Let me know what you think!! like a part two or something, have a nice day/night! :>

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two

summary you're a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen. now friends, you, eddie and junie take a trip to the city. queue oreos with double the cream, a sock related mishap, a display of strength, storybooks, matching pajamas, a velveteen rabbit and a tray of cupcakes to eat on the drive home [15k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie's birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, eddie’s mom implied to have passed away, mention of past falsely presumed self-harm (not graphic, just baby eddie scratching a rash and wayne worrying), hair tourniquet + intense panic

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie doesn't mean to come knocking. He's staring at the ceiling with an open tray of Oreos on his chest, chewing through the boredom of a Monday evening and the pain of an aching back when he thinks of you and Junie.

Toddlers like cookies, right?

He shoves his socked feet into poorly laced converse and turns out all the lights as he leaves. The door slams shut behind him, a rattling of metal ringing into the crisp night while he takes his steps two at a time.

He starts up the street to your trailer and slows as your home comes into view. The lights are on, the curtains open. You stand in the middle of the room with your eyes closed, stretching to one side with your arms held high above your head. He can see the moment your back pops, see the tension of the day slip away just slightly. The exposed stretch of your tummy shines in the light.

You say something to Junie. He decides to stop acting like a stalker and bumps up your steps, hesitating at the door with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

What the fuck was he going to say? Hey, guys, I brought a half-eaten tray of cookies. Um. Because I missed you both? Sorry if that's weird?

"What kind of loser…" he scathes. He doesn't finish, bringing his hand to the door and knocking with a haphazard explanation waiting on the tip of his tongue.

You open the door a short few seconds later. You smile wide, wide enough to open the yawning gap in his chest all over again. Tonight when he goes home he'll have to close it like he has to so often lately after seeing you. Pretend his feelings for you – whatever they are – are smaller, less terrifying.

"Eddie," you say, and the gap stretches with how you say it, fond and warm and breezy. "Hey, where's your jacket? It's too cold to walk over here without one."

He doesn't have to explain himself at all, as it turns out. You open the door and step aside to let him past.

He grins at you. "Thought I'd brave the great outdoors without any armour."

You nod like it isn't all nonsense to you and maybe it isn't, maybe being friends with him is clueing you in to all his fantastical lingo. He likes you more for it either way, especially when you say, "You need a healing potion. It's freezing."

You're embarrassed at your attempt. Eddie can't believe how cute you are, lost for words and flailing. His chest warms with affection.

Junie saves you both, whizzing down out of the nest of pillows where she'd been buried on the couch and across the room with surprising speed and accuracy, barrelling for his knees. He grins as she wraps herself around them and starts talking.

It's mostly unintelligible until she says, "Hi! Hi, Eddie!"

He hugs her back with his hand. "Hi, Junie. Good evening."

"Good," she manages in return. She's all but mastered good morning and afternoon but evening continues to elude her.

"What were you watching? Your Muppet Babies?" He looks at the screen to find Kermit, the green frog, singing a song. "Been doing some singing practice for the band?"

"You want coffee?" you ask. Aforementioned healing potion. "I have decaf."

"I brought cookies."

"Warm milk it is," you declare, disappearing behind one of the kitchen cabinets.

Your bravado makes him laugh.

He finds his attention stolen once again by your lovely daughter when she complains, glaring up at him fiercely and coveting his hand. He balances the Oreos on your table by the door and offers her both, naked of their usual rings bar one.

Junie drags him over to her pillows and tries to climb back up. She refuses to let go of his hand, making it an insurmountable feat. Eddie awes at her efforts and helps her back into the nest, hands closing around her small waist and lifting.

He drops her into the pillows with just enough roughness to garner a laugh. "Sorry, my hands slipped. Hey, what's going on here, junebug? This isn't your usual hangout."

"I felt bad because she's always on the floor," you call from the kitchen. He can see your hands and your torso through the gap of countertop and cabinets. You pour milk into a pan on the stovetop and tap your fingers against the handle frenetically. He wonders if you're anxious about something.

Junie whines until Eddie sits next to her. As soon as he's situated she takes his hand again insistently and turns her attention to the television. He rubs the soft, small back of her hand with a less soft thumb and peers down the way at you.

"She loves the floor,” he says.

"I know," you mumble ruefully. A tad theatric. He must be rubbing off on you. "I had to bribe her into sitting on the couch."

"Yeah? What's the tab?"

"A few dozen kisses and all the pillows from my bed."

"Shame it wasn't half a tray of cookies."

"I think those might help me out."

After you've poured the milk into two tall glasses, you admit to him in a smaller voice that you're not sure if Junie likes Oreos.

"'Cos they're bitter?" he asks.

Milk in hand, you sit in the free seat next to Eddie and try not to sound as embarrassed as he knows you're feeling when you say, "She's never had them."

"I'll bring chocolate chip next time."

You shake your head vehemently. "You don't have to bring anything, ever."

"I like sugar."

You smile at him like you know he's trying to make you feel better, a touch shame-faced. He smiles at you in return and hopes it shows how much it doesn't matter – bringing snacks with him when he visits is hardly a generosity. You're friends.

He keeps trying to have that conversation with you, about sharing and money and all that terrible, embarrassing hardship that isn't embarrassing whatsoever but the words taste like chalk in his mouth.

Instead, he offers the hand that hasn't been stolen by Junie to you for a glass of milk. "One of those for me?"

You pass it to him.

"Why'd you feel bad? You're not forcing her," he says as he takes a sip.

"You don't think it looks cruel?"

"No way. She's one of the happiest babies I've ever met, who cares if she lies on the floor?"

"How many babies do you know?"

"One."

You're laughing when you say, "I don't know. I think it's a habit. But we have a couch, so she should sit on it."

Eddie retrieves the Oreos. Junie watches curiously as he peels open the tray, four rows, two empty and two full of black and white cookies.

He takes one and passes it to you without looking at you. Eye contact gives you the opportunity to reject it.

When he's heard the soft crunch of your first bite, glass of milk between his knees, Eddie holds an oreo up purposefully and twists. "See, Junie?"

He licks a big stripe over the vanilla cream. The cream spreads edge to edge as he pushes both sides back together. Softened by a generous dip in milk, he eats the cookie in one vagabond bite.

"You wanna try?" he asks when he's done.

Big hands over her small ones, Eddie shows her how to twist an Oreo open. She brings the cookie with the least of the cream to her mouth and bites it. Her pout wobbles in mild disgust. Eddie tries not to laugh.

She has to like Oreos. They're a staple.

"Let me show you," he says gently, taking the cream heavy side out of her hands. Dark crumbs stain his fingers as he holds it up to her face. "You gotta lick it."

She doesn't want to, evidenced by her wrinkled nose and untrusting gaze.

"You'll have to do it for her," he tells you gravely.

Moving to kneel in front of him, you take the oreo out of his hands and lick it before stealing back the half of the cookie Junie had been munching on and squishing them back together. You dunk her sandwich in milk and press it to her lips until she deigns to take a small bite.

"Yummy?" you ask.

She takes the cookie back, a mess of dark black mush collecting at the corners of her mouth as she eats it.

You gaze up at him from the floor. Your eyes look damn pretty, more so when he offers the tray to you, your smile a beacon. "I haven't had Oreos since I was a kid," you say excitedly.

"Do they taste like you remember?"

You rest your hand on his knee and lean in. "They need more of the filling," you say secretively.

"Yeah?" Eddie's in motion, twisting one oreo apart and then another. He takes the halves with the most cream and pushes them together.

One oreo, twice the cream.

You giggle as he passes it to you. "Oh my god." You're giddy, arm heavy on his thigh.

You eat it like it's something crazy expensive, all smiley and indulgent. You look so pleased that he immediately starts to make you another.

"Eddie," you protest, covering your mouth, "don't, don't waste them."

"I won’t waste them. I like the cookie more than the cream,” he lies.

"Oh."

You finish your oreo. Eddie can’t find it in himself to be modest about it; you’re smiling and it’s his doing and that fills him with pleasure.

He watches you mistreat his jeans as you chew the second, your fingers pulling distractedly at the rips. You tuck your hand underneath, white threads tensing over your knuckles and fingerprints brushing over his kneecap, your entire face cringing as a thread snaps from the pressure.

Eddie looks away quickly. He can feel your eyes on him and has to bite back a smile as you assess if you’ve been caught.

You could ruin them completely for all he cares.

Junie makes happy noises beside him. She’s realised the middle of the Oreo is the sweetest and has split one open in her hands. A terrible mess ensues, cocoa powder fingerprints smattered over the pillows she’s buried in and vanilla cream marring her nose in a sticky line.

“Could you make any more of a mess for your poor mom?” he asks. The rhetoric is lost on her; she says something cheerful and holds her hand out for another cookie.

Her face — expectant, small, cute, all of it evokes an uncontrollable urge to do whatever it is she wants him to do.

“Is that, like, a kid thing?” he asks.

You pull your fingertips away from his skin and cock your head. “What?”

He splits an oreo and offers Junie the cream-heavy half, clarifying through a mouthful of dark cookie, “Following her every command.”

You sit at full height. He instantly misses the heat of your front to his knees, the way you’d draped yourself over him familiarly, and is wondering how he might begin to convince you to do so again as you think it over.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It might just be a Junie thing, but I guess that’s immature to think. S’pose it’s hormones or something. Like when cats meow.”

He giggles at you. Hormones? Cats?

“What?” you ask, half defensive, half sheepish.

“I just- I love it when you talk like that.”

“Like what?”

He shrugs and takes another pull of milk to think of a way to say, Well, when you’re tired you get nonsensical, and it’s charming how confident you are but hard to follow without offending you. Is there a way to say that without offending you? Or worse, without revealing every wretched feeling he has for you?

“I sounded pretty stupid,” you summarise.

“No! Never. I love that you think like that. That you’d think about cats meowing.”

“They do it to manipulate us,” you explain.

He can almost see the heat of an embarrassed flush radiating off of your cheeks, the press of your lips so endearing he almost leans forward to feel it. He can imagine it, his thumb over your mouth, the pad pulling down your bottom lip.

There’s an arrogance in thinking you’d let him.

“Jungle cats, tigers and lions and stuff, they don’t meow,” and you’re still going! He has to cover his mouth with his hand to stop from bursting. “Because they don’t need to. They have no idea what a baby sounds like, and they don’t need us to take care of them so they’ve never learned how to meow. Babies are like that. We hear them crying and we want it to stop.” You have a smile on your face that says, I don’t know if what I’m saying is true, but I’m gonna pretend it is. Pretend with me?

Eddie’s all about pretending. “Cats are master manipulators,” he eggs you on, "but you realise not everyone wants babies to stop the way you do? Some people just don’t like babies.”

“That’s okay. More babies for me.” You lean out to tap his forehead. “Touch wood.”

“What?” he asks.

“Touch wood,” you repeat. “I don’t actually want more babies right now, don’t wanna jinx myself by saying it, so I had to touch wood. You don’t have that superstition?”

“Are you saying my head is made of wood?”

Your sudden laugh is stunning; he can’t bring himself to be offended.

When Junie's had more Oreos than she should've and the milk's all gone Eddie stands up before you can do it yourself and takes the empty glasses with him, putting them on the kitchen counter with a click.

He grabs an almost empty pack of wet wipes off of the top of the refrigerator and sits down next to Junie, talking fast in hopes of distracting her.

"I got a call last night," he begins, pulling a wet wipe from the pack and taking Junie's wrist into his hand. He doesn't use the wipe at first, tryimg to convince her that this is all affection. "The phone went ring ring," he rolls the sound around, "and I was thinking, who the heck is calling me so late?"

He plays up his outrage but keeps a huge smile in place as he works his thumb into Junie's palm, tickling in circles.

"So I answer the phone, and I say, who is this? And you know who it is?"

Junie waits, looking like she might be close to laughing. And he's just getting started.

Eddie takes a deep breath. "Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here! Is this Junie on the other end?"

What his impression lacks in accuracy it makes up in enthusiasm.

Her little mouth opens. He wipes the corners with the wet wipe and then her chin. "So I said, no, Mr. Frog, I'm Junie's neighbour. I'm Eddie.

"Kermit said, you can call me Kermit, thank you very much. Mr. Frog was my father."

You snort beside him. He tries not to look at you because he knows your happy face will stop him in his tracks, your laughter enough to make him smile and break character.

He squares his expression and begins again. "I need to talk to Juniper, it's very important." He wipes down her sticky hands, her stained fingers and palms, worse than smug when she doesn't complain and pull them away. "I said, I'm sorry Mr. Kermit but I can't put her on, she's all safe and snug in bed with her mom. And Kermit said, oh, okay. Well, please tell Junie this."

Junie's looking up at him, surprised, very pleased, practically wiggling in her seat. She's lovely. Just like her mom.

He doesn't want to do the voice for this part, struck with a sudden sense of awe. "She is… the smartest, most prettiest, loving little girl in the whole world."

Eddie beams at her and drops her damp hands. When he impersonates Kermit this time, he's trying as hard as he can. "I'd only like her more if she were green!"

You're clinging to sanity.

It's Wednesday, it's washing day, and you haven't managed a single load of clothes since you got home because Junie won't stop crying. This isn't new; babies cry constantly and toddlers aren't much different. But, it's been three hours. She's too old for colic.

Junie has screamed, she's sobbed, she's slapped her tiny hands into your chest. You know she doesn't mean to hurt you, she's just communicating her panic. That doesn't stop the growing distress.

You're terrified.

You've found yourself in tears, too.

"Just tell me, baby," you plead.

It's useless. She screams so loud her voice cracks, and you decide that nows the time. You have to go to the hospital.

You don't think you can let her go long enough to strap her into her car seat. Immediately, you think of Eddie. You don't even lock the door. The small walk to his house feels a block long.

He must hear her crying as you approach because the door swings open just as you mount the first step. You backtrack.

"I'm really sorry," you say quickly, knowing this isn't something he ever signed up for. "I don't know what to do, she won't stop and I think there's something wrong." Your voice wobbles.

There's a huge flash of something akin to the panic you're feeling over his face but he pushes it away, descending the steps two at a time. His hand immediately comes up to your shoulder, fingers curled into your shirt.

"Chill out," he says, more stern than you've ever heard him. It’s surreal to see him turn like that. Almost like he’s become one of his characters, the voices he does for Junie’s story books.

You take a ragged breath.

"I'm serious. You need to calm down. You understand?"

Junie gives a blistering shout and your face crumples. "Eddie," you say.

"Can I hold her?" he asks, softer.

You can see in his face that he isn't sure, that he's out of his depth, but you're so desperate for a life raft that you nod and squeeze your eyes closed, passing her into his waiting arms. Everytime she cries – every wicked intake of air and every subsequent bellowing sob makes your chest ache. You have a splitting headache. Honestly, you're worried you might fall over.

"How long has she been crying?" he asks, looking over her face and shoulders with a perplexed frown.

"Hours. At first I thought she was tired or- or hungry but I've tried everything, Eddie, everything."

"She was like this when you picked her up?"

You nod.

He pats her back, the other hand rubbing down one of her legs soothingly. "Did she hurt herself?" He's looking at you without an ounce of judgement.

"Not- not that I know of." You'd looked under her shirt and trousers already. She doesn't have a single bruise.

He starts to walk back towards your home. You don't follow at first and he reaches out to grab your arm, pulling you along as he says, "Come on, sweetheart. We'll go down to Hawkins general, yeah? Just to be safe."

"Yeah."

Junie screams. "It's okay, sweetheart," Eddie says, again and again and again. He doesn't hesitate, his voice velveteen.

His hand stays on your arm until you're by the car. He's never done a car seat before and you can tell: he tucks her into it with infinite care but can't work out how to do the buckles. You laugh wetly and then feel very guilty. wiping your face with one hand before ducking down to do them yourself. Junie glares at you as you do, still very much crying and now incensed at being strapped in.

You stand back to take her in and push your thumbs across her wet cheeks and under her snotty nose uselessly, feeling so sorry for her, so guilty. Why can't you work out what's wrong? Why can't you fix it?

Eddie stands by your side, waiting.

“You got it,” he encourages as you pull back. "You're okay."

You smile weakly and then narrow your eyes, the two of you seeing it at the same time – Junie reaching desperately for her sock.

You peel it off with shaking hands and feel another hot shock of tears. There, around one of her toes, is a tourniquet. The skin is swollen but looks unbroken, darkened by blood

You smile because Oh my god, this is what's wrong, and then you panic twice as much as you had before, because Oh my god, her tiny toe.

"Eddie, I need- I need something. I need a- a nail scissors or-" You drag your hands down your face, in the thick of it. Adrenaline or cortisol or something must race through your veins, your hands shaking with it.

Eddie pulls you back by the hem of your shirt. "We can't cut it away. You'll never get the blade under that- What is that? A hair?"

"Yeah. A hair."

A lightbulb moment. You brush past him and almost fall up the steps back into your trailer.

"Stay there," you say without any explanation.

You step over the mess you'd left behind and barrel into the bathroom, clipping your shoulder on the bathroom door and slamming onto your knees.

You're lucky you have it, a tiny pot of hair removal cream in an old makeup bag under the sink. Resisting the urge to kiss the lid, you rush back out to the car where Eddie holds one of Junie's hands in his. He looks an impossible mixture of worried and relieved when you reappear.

You elbow digs into his chest as you lean over, opening the cream and smearing a line over Junie's swollen toe. She whimpers and shouts and tries desperately to get out of the carseat and, to your devastation, away from you.

"What is that?" Eddie asks from behind you.

"A hair remover."

You wipe the delapitor clumsily into your only good jeans so you can take both of Junie's arms into your hands. She doesn't want to be touched but you need to be holding her, at least a little bit.

"How long does it take?"

"I'm not sure… Not long. If it doesn't work we'll still have to go to the hospital."

Eddie pushes his hands into the top of your back in answer, his fingers curling either side of your neck like he might give you a massage. You shudder as he pulls you against him, as his fingers trace an invisible pattern.

Junie looks up at you both. Her wounded expression loosens. Maybe she's realised that you've figured out her problem, maybe she's just glad to be looked at. Either way, she subdues.

The hair removal cream's acrid smell tickles your stuffed up nose. You sniffle and Eddie's fingers work into your neck lightly, a silent and unwavering It's okay.

You don't see the hair snap so much as you see the pressure wean. You smother a sob, your relief palpable as you pull your shirt sleeve down to cover your hand and wipe it away. Junie shrieks.

You take the hair between your nails and pull.

"Oh my god," you say, holding it up between you.

Everything feels a little bit hazy after that. Eddie rubs your shoulders placatingly before encouraging you away from the door so he can unclip Junie and pull her out of her car seat. He guides you away from the car and back into your trailer, over the mess and into the kitchen.

You sit heavily in a battered kitchen chair. Eddie stands in front of you, Junie on his hip and a frown warping his pretty features. She grizzles, less when he sets her down in your lap carefully.

"Is that okay?" he asks softly. Then, when you nod, "Are you okay? You look like you're gonna pass out."

"I don't feel well."

"No, I bet you don't. Take it easy."

You pull Junie's leg up to examine her foot. Her toes are covered in hair remover still. "Could you get me the baby wipes, please?"

"Sure can. It'll cost you, though." His joke falls a little flat. You try to smile anyhow, your little huff forcing a last tear. You blink until it's gone, aggravated with yourself.

After all, her toe looks better. Sore, still swollen, but better. Though you could just be seeing what you want to see.

Eddie tries to pass you the baby wipes but your hands are shaking too badly to take them. Without a word he opens the pack, kneeling on the floor in front of you to wipe down her foot tenderly. His eyebrows pinch together when she whimpers, and he murmurs a sorry, "I know, I know."

You're trying very hard to calm down.

"All done," he tells her, parentese in play. "You are so brave, junebug. You're the bravest little girl I've ever met. That's why me and your mom decided you were Juniper the Brave, and you proved us both right."

He taps the tip of a ring-heavy finger under her chin. You watch from over her shoulder. "Really brave. You did a good job, the best job ever," he praises, tilting his head to catch your eye as he says it.

You smile at him the best that you can. He holds your gaze for a weighted second and then drops it back to Junie. "Do you feel better?" he asks.

She doesn't answer, only tips her head against your chest.

Eddie pulls off her remaining sock and waves it at her. "Don't need this."

"Do you think she'll throw up if I make her some dinner?" you ask, the kind of question you don't usually get to ask someone else. A luxury to defer judgement.

"Maybe. Does it matter?"

"I don't want to clean up puke," you say pathetically.

Eddie softens. "I'll clean it up if she pukes. Don't worry about it."

You don't have to, you want to say. Of course he doesn't have to.

"Thank you," you say instead, feeling like you could burst into an entirely fresh wave of tears.

Again, he looks up at you. His smile fades from a cheesy exuberance to something sweeter, a melty-warm thing that has your breath catching.

"I'm really sorry for just showing up like that," you say tentatively, flushed with heat as you realise what you've done.

"Don't be."

"No, because she's- I know you never-" She's mine alone. You never signed up for this. You can't make yourself say it, distracted by his ever-growing smile. "I should've handled it on my own."

"Your mom really doesn't understand how much I like her," he tells Junie humorously, wiggling his eyebrows at her. "She doesn't have a clue. How much I like you," he adds, hand on your thigh, his finger stroking a line down the length of her leg.

"You didn't have to-" You try, stopping again as he huffs out of the side of his mouth.

His hand closes around your thigh. You can feel the heat of each of his fingers, the bulk of every heavy ring.

"It's okay. I promise," he says seriously.

"I got so freaked out, I just…" You give up. Whatever. He knows what you're trying to say. Hopefully.

Eddie leans forward to kiss your knee. His eyes close, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly over your thigh.

You blink to yourself in a vain attempt at processing what's just happened when he asks, "Do you still feel sick?"

"No.” Your chest burns.

"In that case, I'll make dinner. A feast."

Things start to feel better. Details sink in. Your heart slows. What was only Eddie behind the stovetop becomes his dark hair scraped up and wrapped in a hair tie, his sweatpants and unlaced shoes, his white t-shirt with sharpie writing all over. Sounds filter in; the spoon scraping the bottom of the saucepan and his frenetic humming, the sound of his rubber-bottomed cons squeaking over linoleum.

Junie doesn't cry so much as whine. You press kisses that are more for you than her into her hair and on her forehead, jogging your knee. She's fine. She's okay, and she's here in your lap, and there's nothing to panic over now.

You try to push away the lingering worry. In the moment, a million thoughts had coalesced into only one. What if she's dying? Meningitis, an aneurysm, cancer. Anything. And now those thoughts fall away, leaving behind only the sharp smell of the hair remover and the salty stick of tears.

"Do you think I have time to give her a shower before dinner?" you ask softly, clearing your throat for what feels like the twentieth time today.

"You got it. I'll simmer. You could have one, too, if you want."

"Do I look that bad?"

"Worse." He grins at your expression. "I'm kidding. You look beautiful as always, sweetheart."

You carry Junie into the bathroom. There's no tub and she's too big for the kitchen sink, so a shower it is. You stand her up under warm spray and turn her back so the spray misses her eyes. She smiles at the warm water running down her back. The relief to see her happy can't be understated. You hop in at the same time and clean her off, wash her hair, and bedeck her tiny features in big big kisses.

Wrapped in her baby towel – a pink poncho type thing with a hood – you walk her to the bedroom and dry her off as fast as you can.

"Which ones?" you ask, holding up two pairs of pajamas.

Junie points at the pink shirt and bottoms printed in bright red strawberries with light green tops, letting you dress her and plonk her at the end of the bed without any fuss.

"No socks for you," you say lightly, sitting beside her in your towel.

"No socks," she agrees.

Even though Eddie's been good to you, you can't help wishing that he wasn't here. What you want more than anything in that second is for Junie to be asleep and for your head to be wedged firmly under your pillow, the sheets to your shoulders, dead to the world.

Not truly dead, of course. But a minute of silence.

Junie doesn't seem to know what to do with herself, sitting in companionable silence and stillness with you. Her head falls onto your arm.

"Are you tired?" you ask quietly, too exhausted for bubbly talk.

She sighs. You sigh too.

Eddie hums from the kitchen.

He kissed my knee.

You think you might have imagined it, if you're honest. It could've been anything against your stockings, the brush off his palm or the back of a warm knuckle, but you'd seen it. His lips, his face turned toward your thigh.

"I think he likes me," you tell Junie.

She doesn't say anything. When you look down at her she's already looking up, eyes wide with confusion.

"He kissed me," you whisper, leaning down. "I don't know about you, junebug, but I only kiss the people I care about. For a long time, that's been a really short list." You bump your nose against hers.

You've just finished getting into your own pajamas when Eddie calls out, "Girls? I know ladies like yourselves need longer to get ready but the mac and cheese is acting weird."

"Weird?" you mumble, hooking your hands under Junie's armpits. You'd let her walk if you weren't worried for her foot.

Eddie has created a working man's feast, three identical plates heaping with food. Hills of mac and cheese topped with bacon bits take up half of each plate, fried broccoli and collard greens the other. They're golden, almost red with spices.

"You can cook," you say, surprised.

"Don't sound so shocked," he says defensively. He can only hold his facade for a moment, deflating. "I really can’t. I tried to copy what you do, I've seen it enough times…" He shrugs and flops down into his usual chair. "Don't tell me if it's gross."

"I doubt it's gross."

You can't be bothered for the high chair. Junie looks like she might be too tired to move so you take the chance and sit her between you and Eddie behind the smaller portion (though using small at all feels like a lie, he's made a lot of food). She can barely see over the table.

"Did you use two boxes?" you ask, picking up Junie's spoon.

It's all the perfect temperature for a baby, maybe a little cold for an adult. You're so happy to have somebody else cook for you that you'd die before you complained.

He taps his nose. You pass Junie her spoon.

"What do you mean?" You tap your own nose in imitation. "I'll know when I look."

"So don't look. Eat."

You eat. Without asking him too – because you wouldn’t, you never do – he starts to feed Junie.

He might be the nicest boy on this whole damn planet. You look at him thoughtfully. How come we always end up here? At the kitchen table?

He looks right. Too right. He looks like he’s meant to be here, smiling and talking to your baby in hushed, fond tones, airplaning roasted broccoli towards her mouth.

“You’ll stay to watch a movie?” you ask later, trying to hide how lethargic you are with your hands deep in dishwater.

Eddie wipes a fleck of water off of your cheek with a rag. "Duh."

On the couch, Eddie sneaks a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re pretending to watch the TV and doing a bad job, your attention stolen over and over by Junie where she sleeps in your lap. Your hand rubs over her small, distended tummy, the other holding her foot carefully. You keep glancing at her toe, much less swollen now and with a healthier complexion, though a cruel line remains from where the hair had cut into her skin.

You don't touch it, only looking. He worries as a wrinkle appears between your eyebrows.

Listening intently as he is, he can hear the hitch in your breath. Eddie doesn’t want you to cry again — the first time had been awful enough. Your face covered in tears, coming fast and panicked. It was like you’d hardly noticed you were crying. You’d been so scared that Eddie, despite knowing close to nothing about babies or how to make them feel better, had clung to his calm. He’d stomped down every flicker of panic that had surged and tried his damn best to keep a level head.

Now, with your sad face and the crisis averted, Eddie feels a pang of terror. Just one. You are completely out of your element, Munson.

You’re definitely the kind of friends now that can sit on the couch together and not care too much about personal space. Eddie uses this to his advantage and spreads his legs just enough to brush his thigh against yours. You look at him and hide your lingering upset with a small smile. It’s a far cry from the genuine happy grin he’s become familiar with, but you're still beautiful.

Eddie shuffles across the couch toward you until he can push his hand under your arm. He pulls it to his chest, beware of your tenuously sleeping daughter, and hugs it.

“I was thinking,” he starts casually, looking down at you.

Your eyes crease with a playful smile. “Oh yeah?” Like you can’t believe it.

“Yeah, I was,” he says, quiet so as not to wake Junie but extremely passionate. “What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

“Nothing." You laugh under your breath.

He glares, faux-offended. Any real offense is swallowed instantly by the sound of your laugh.

“Hm. Anyway, I was thinking,” he begins again, hand running down your arm in what he hopes is a soothing gesture, “that I’d head into the city this weekend. Go to the bookstore ‘n’ the big goodwill by the bus station. I was hoping you’d wanna come with me.” Is he pushing his luck? Maybe.

You look like you want to say yes, but, “Eddie, I don’t really have the money.”

“I’d pay.” He tries to sell it before you can protest. “I’m asking you to come. Stealing your Sunday. We’d leave early, get breakfast on the way. I don't want to go alone.” I want your company.

He tries not to show how terrified he is that you’ll say no.

“I can’t- I couldn’t let you pay for us,” you say, eyes on his chest.

“Can I tell you something?” You nod. “It would make me… really happy if you did.”

He doesn’t know how to explain it. He doesn’t think there’s a way to tell you that won’t involve unveiling his new and shiny feelings for you, feelings that don’t seem to want to slow, or abate, or moderate themselves. Honestly, he doesn’t want them to.

He wants you to be happy. He wants to take care of you.

It's embarrassing in its intensity.

You reach over Junie to wrap your hand around his bicep, though you still don’t look like you’re going to say yes.

He leans in close, tracing the details of your face with a greedy kind of curiosity. “You wouldn’t let me give you anything for the haircut,” he says. “It’s the same, you know? Doing things for the people you care about."

He says it like the idiot he is, all rough and insincere, like caring about people is dumb. You smile anyways and finally, finally, give him a nod. So small it’s near imperceptible.

“If you’re sure,” you say.

“Positive.”

Eddie looks good behind the wheel of your car. The wind whips at his hair, curls that had been neat and pretty only an hour ago now starting to frizz. You think the chaos of it suits him.

He’s singing along to the radio and it’s a song you don’t know. You don’t think Junie knows it either, but she’s signing it like she does, hands flailing in the air and Mr. Bear bouncing in her lap with the force of her dancing. Eddie looks at her in the rear view mirror, beaming brilliantly.

“Yeah, sing it, junebug!" he encourages. Her voice peaks.

You laugh and stretch your hands out in your lap, knuckles brushing the sandwiches you’d packed. You’d let Eddie pay for gas, you might even let him buy Junie a book from the bookstore if he’s feeling generous, but you’re really trying to keep his expenses low. Hence, sandwiches. Even now, the idea of him spending money on you makes you feel guilty.

Deep down – deep, deep down – you want him to. You’re hoping he’ll pick up a book for you, and that fills you with so much shame you have to look away from him, your face to the window. The highway blurs past, the early morning sun lighting the blacktop and bouncing between cars of all kinds coming into the city for a Sunday outing.

Eddie turns down the radio a tiny bit and reaches across the seat to squeeze your shoulder. “You alright?” he asks without looking at you.

You tip your head toward his hand. His rings bite into your cheek.

You’re in the car on a nice day with a nice boy and your pretty baby listening to the radio, the sun at your side and the breeze kissing your warm skin.

You’d even managed to find a nice shirt to wear. Today is a good day. You won't weigh it down with silly feelings.

“I’m great.”

He gives you that smile like he doesn’t believe you and his eyes go back to the road. “Can a guy get another sandwich or does he have to beg?”

You imagine what it might be like to lean over and kiss his cheek. He deserves a good kiss, you think, and then wince as heat blooms from your chest up to your cheeks. You can’t hold in a pleased smile as you click open the Tupperware.

“Do you want PB&J or bacon and lettuce?” The tomatoes have already been accosted by a ravenous Junie.

“I’ll have half of whatever you’re having.”

You weren’t going to have one, and you both know that. You offer him half the PB&J and he takes it, eyes flitting between you and the road. You take a showful bite to release him. He gives you a grateful smile in turn.

Chewing, you take half of the bacon and lettuce sandwich into your hands and pull it apart. You divide the contents and tuck half into one slice to make a quarter sandwich before leaning over the seats to offer it to Junie where she waits in her car seat. She accepts it hungrily.

One-handed, Eddie pulls the car off of the highway. “There’s a parking garage somewhere around here,” he tells you.

Once he's found it he jumps out to go pay. You turn in your seat and smile at Junie. She's mauling her sandwich, face smeared in butter.

"Are you ready for some fun?" you ask.

She looks at you curiously.

You try again, really smiling. "Are you excited? We're gonna go find a book, something fun like Red Cat, Blue Cat, and we're gonna see the stores and the people and maybe mommy can get you a new teddy."

A spark of something. She gets happy when you're happy and today's no exception, her tiny features soon plucked up with joy. When you round the car and open her door to wipe down her greasy fingers and face she barely cares, and she receives your loving kisses with a big smile.

Eddie returns with the parking ticket and slides it onto the dashboard. You leave Junie's door open now he's back to pop the trunk and unfold her stroller. The sound echoes through the parking garage and the sun struggles to find a way in, your arms wracked with goosebumps.

"Hey, junebug," you hear Eddie murmuring.

He messes with the buckles on her car seat until they pop open, his triumphant laugh almost as pretty as his face. Junie's is prettier, your daughter laughing up a storm as Eddie scoops her up and sits her on his hip.

He looks like he had when you first met but with ten times the confidence in holding her and a clear affection. Her hands are in his hair like usual, petting and pulling gently.

"Brush out the tangles for me," he tells her seriously, bumping the door shut.

She hums like she's agreed to his task and continues her exploring.

You hang the baby bag over the stroller's handlebar and Eddie sits her in the padded chair.

"Junie, have I told you how pretty you look today?" he asks, pulling the straps over her shoulders and from between her legs. He uses parentese like you would, distracting her as he locks her in. When the lock click, he plays affectionately with her hair. "You're like a princess. Your mom has talented hands, huh? And a good eye."

Pleasure from his compliment drips in thick and fast. You bite back a smile and squeeze the clean baby socks in your hands, waiting for him to stand so you can fight them onto Junie’s feet. Ever since her ordeal you’ve been waiting as long as you can before putting on socks and shoes. The first thing you do when you pick her up from daycare is take them off.

If Eddie thinks you’re overzealous in your fretting he hasn't said anything. He holds his hand out for the socks and you give them to him, nonplussed though you shouldn’t be as he bunches them up and pushes them over her wiggling feet with patience and bemusement.

“Stay still… Do you want frostbite? Or gangrene?” he asks her.

“Eddie.”

“Sorry." He looks at you guiltily. “In my defense, she doesn’t know what gangrene is.”

“It’s weird, though. To hear you say it like it’s a good thing. S’creepy.”

He squeezes the sole of one of her small feet and stands, much too close to you as he whispers cheerily, “Gangrene. Septicemia. Pneumonia.”

You laugh and push him away from you. “Shut up.”

“You first. Where’re her shoes?”

You procure them with a smug smile. “You’ll never get them on.”

His fingers brush yours as he takes them, his eyes blazing at the challenge.

“Will you sulk all day?” Eddie asks you.

The sulking is for show. You frown like you’re really angry and tighten your grip on the stroller, the wind ruffling your clothes. After a moment the facade falls away and you smile at him, unable to hide your reluctant affection any longer. “How did you get her to sit still like that? You vex me.” Said with equal parts envy and pride.

“I vex you,” he says, voice coloured by good humour.

He’s fallen into step beside you, your jacket tied around his waist.

You should bring your jacket. In case you get cold, he’d said.

I don’t want to carry it, you’d said.

Don’t patronise me.

You glance over the top of the stroller to make sure Junie’s blanket is still in place. She’s quiet. You’ve decided that she’s in shock to be somewhere that isn’t your home or the daycare.

“Yeah, you vex me. Infuriate me. I’ve been a mom for two years and I can’t get her shoes on without a fight, and you’ve been-“ You stop dead, stutter, and quickly adjust what you'd been saying like it has been a slip up of the tongue rather than a thought you shouldn't entertain. “You’ve known her for what, three months? And-“

“Four months,” he corrects, sounding much too proud.

“Four months,” you amend. “And you can do all this stuff that took me years to work out.” You’re a little bit vexed for real.

He nods like he’s considering what you’ve said before tipping his head. “But…”

You wait. He doesn’t further his point. “But what?”

“Well.” Eddie brushes something off of your arm. “I guess I have a great teacher, right?” His voice hikes up high and he steamrolls, “I just copy you. You didn’t really get to copy anyone.”

You feel something melty hot in your chest, another affection for Eddie to add to a growing list. “Oh.”

He takes your shoulder into his hand and you draw to a pause, his other hand pointing off into the distance. “There’s the bookstore.”

You follow his finger. Across a landscape of cobblestone, situated firmly between a Domino’s pizza place and a cafe with a peppering of metal wrought tables stands Morgan’s Books. To your surprise, it’s a glass-fronted building with a big clean sign made up of red, yellow, and blue. It's a children's bookstore.

Eddie has obviously tricked you. You turn to glare at him and find him very close. He doesn’t shy away and you try not to in return. You try, but something about his pretty mouth so close sends shocks like pins and needles to your hands and you have to keep walking lest you embarrass yourself. His hand falls from your shoulder and trails down your back. You swear you can feel even the last millimetre of his fingertip before it falls away.

You get a good look at the landscape ahead and your eyes narrow. Eddie almost bumps into you when you stop abruptly.

“What?” he asks.

"There’s, like, a thousand steps.”

“Gross hyperbole," he argues. A gap of quiet furthers your point; while you had been exaggerating, there are a lot of steps, and he needs time to take them all in.

“Is there a way around?”

“Don’t be dumb, sweetheart. You’ll grab June and I’ll carry the stroller.”

“It’s really heavy. Heavier than it looks.”

He grins like a fiend. “I’m strong.”

Junie’s more than happy to be released, less when you take her into your arms and won’t put her down. You help Eddie snap the stroller back up, indicating which lever to pull with the rubber toe of your converse. He kneels down to guide it into place and looks up at you swiftly afterward, self-satisfied and much too happy considering the task afoot.

“Maybe we should find another way.”

“Y/N,” he says, like your name is inherently funny, like a joke rolled around over his tongue, “I’m starting to get offended.”

You blow air out of the side of your mouth.

Eddie slugs the stroller under one arm and holds it tight with the other, giving you a very determined smile. “Ready?”

You balance the baby bag over one shoulder and start on the stairs. Junie's heavy but she’s a heavy you’ve grown used to, and she doesn’t complain enough to warrant any stress.

You’re impressed when Eddie takes each step at your pace and doesn’t break a sweat. “I thought you were a bus boy. What do you bus? Weights?” you ask incredulously.

He laughs. “I don’t bus weights, but amps are heavy, and I’m not a big shot. I don’t have any roadies to carry them for me.”

You feel terrible then for forgettting. Right. He plays music, you think. You’ve never once seen him play any music, on stage or at home. You’ve seen him play guitar over Junie’s leg to tickle her and tap out a rhythm when he’s heating up desserts in your kitchen, but you’ve never seen him play guitar for real.

“Is that going okay?” you ask, ignoring the small burn beginning to grow in your arms.

“Bussing? Sure. Why’d you ask?”

“Not bussing, music. I never ask- I’ve never asked you how it’s going.”

Eddie winces as the stroller starts to open and pulls it tighter under his arm. It takes him a few seconds to calibrate what you’ve said, and he’s quickly reassuring. “What? Why would you worry about that? You have enough to think about without adding my moonlighting at the Hideout.” He says the Hideout like it’s something to be looked down on. You almost trip up a step and Eddie can’t do anything but watch. “Careful," he begs.

You keep your eyes on your footing until you’re at the very top, worried you'll fall flat on your face and get Junie hurt.. Eddie comes up two behind you and puts the stroller down, wiping his hands together dramatically.

“Conquered. Great job, team. Especially you,” he says, poking Junie’s cheek.

She puts her arms out, vying for his attention now she’s had a taste. He raises his eyebrows at her and offers his arms. You hand her over eagerly, arms aching. You can’t imagine what his feel like.

“I care about it,” you say firmly. It rather than you, but it rings the same. “I want to know, Eddie, I swear. I’m sorry for not asking.”

He looks up from where he’d been making playful faces at Junie to stare at you. It’s not a mean stare, but it unnerves you all the same.

She pushes a hand into his hair like she always does and starts to try and pull her fingers through it. It’s knottier than usual because of the wind, and she struggles to make sense of it. His eyes fall to her tugging.

“Sweetheart,” he says slowly. You know it’s meant for you, even if he’s not looking at you. "If there was something worth telling you, I would’ve told you. I don't doubt that you care.”

You don’t feel better. “No, ‘cos-”

“Why are you so upset?” he asks genuinely.

You hadn’t realised your face revealed the extent of it. “Because we’re friends. You’re the- the best friend I’ve ever had.”

He smiles, sudden and wide. “I’m your best friend?”

“Like we’re twelve?” you deflect.

“Yeah, like we’re twelve.”

You ignore him and try to cool down. A hot flush attacks your skin as you stretch out the stroller and click the supports back into place, shucking off your baby bag to hang over the handlebar with a relieved sigh.

Eddie moves Junie to one side. You anticipate his touch before it happens, his free arm behind your back and pulling you to him. “We’re totally best friends. I’m your best friend,” he says smugly, hand curling around your shoulder. It’s a good hug, friendly and warm and heart-racingly close; you can feel his chest on your back, the curve of a pec through thin fabric.

You turn toward him indulgently but keep your head down. It’s so nice to be hugged that you can’t make yourself move away.

He rubs the top of your arm, the bump of his rings biting into your skin. “You don’t deny it?”

“No. I don’t deny it.”

“Hear that, June?” Again, he calls her June. Not Junie or junebug, June. You like the way he says it. “I’m your mom's best friend. I win.”

You nod happily, warm under his touch.

Wait. “What?”

“She likes me more,” he teases her childishly.

“Eddie!”

“What? Am I wrong?” He leans away from you and feigns confusion.

“Yes! Of course you’re wrong! That’s my baby. Give her to me right now." You join in on his melodramatics, grinning even as you continue, “How could you say that? Sicko."

“That got frosty quickly,” he grumbles, holding her away from you.

You move in to plaster Junie in kisses. Not apology kisses because you didn’t say anything wrong, but kisses all the same.

“Can I get in on one of those?”

You huff at him. He bursts into boyish laughter and holds his hands up. “Kidding!”

“Should we go?” Before you say something stupid.

Eddie carries Junie and you push the empty stroller until you're all looking up at the store's bright sign. "This is where you wanted to come?" you ask him, eyes falling to the window where a sign brags a children's reading nook and their Read Before You Buy promotion.

He shrugs. "Bookstore's a bookstore."

"No, this is for kids. We're never gonna find what you wanted in here. I doubt they have King of the Rings between Red Cat, Blue Cat and Pony Girl."

"King of the Rings," he repeats jovially.

"Whatever it's called."

He pulls a squirming Junie higher up the length of his chest, the fabric of his shirt rides up with her. You pull it down. You're flustered enough, his naked skin is the last thing you need.

"Sweetheart, I'm sure they'll have what I want," he says flippantly, pushing the door open with his elbow.

"If you're sure…" you say, following him in

The bookstore smells fancy. You breathe in the scent of plastic wrap and paper, your eyes searching over floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and pyramids of craft kits. Box sets of Enid Blyton and A. A. Milne sporting classic, whimsy spines are stacked in a towering and precarious looking arch. Signs on either side promise a children's wonderland inside. You follow Eddie around pen displays and jigsaw puzzles, ducking under the archway with an awed, "Oh, wow."

"Watch out," he warns quietly, taking a step down into the kids' reading nook.

You bump the stroller to the bottom of the steps and have to stop, amazed.

Junie is a picture of you as Eddie sets her down, gazing around the room in shock. There's a lot of older kids scattered throughout on big circle pillows with books in their laps and a guardian beside them, but the real wonder is in the decoration. The walls are bedecked in murals; Kermit and Funnybones, The Very Busy Spider and the mouse from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Junie sees Kermit on the walls and gasps, running up to the painting with wide eyes.

Eddie follows her without saying anything. When he catches up to her, he offers her his hand. She takes it. She's practically shouting, their joined hands restless as excitement courses through her in waves.

You find two big pillows and a couple of books for Junie to look at. The three of you take to an empty corner and sit, looking over a big picture book full of stills from The Muppets Take Manhattan. Junie makes a lot of excited sounds and nonsense words, talking very confidently though half of it's lost on you both.

"Kermit," she says, pointing at the page passionately.

You wrap your arms around her tummy to keep her comfortable and hum. "Yeah, baby. Kermit, Miss Piggy, Gonzo. They're going to New York," you start to describe the page.

Eddie leans in, his arm pressed to your arm, his skin a heat where it rubs into you as he helps hold open the book.

The further you read the closer he gets.

Junie gets bored quickly, like toddlers tend to, and wants to go look at the walls again. Eddie stays with the stroller and you pick her up to let her touch her hands to the characters.

"That's Spot," you tell her quietly, her fingertips brushing over flat fur. "Spot the doggy."

Junie's never read anything Spot before. He's a popular character. There's three picture books to choose from. You pick up the first, Where's Spot? and offer it to her.

She likes the look of him. You carry her back to your pillows and struggle to sit back down in the tight gap between the wall and Eddie's knee. He stretches his arms out to take her. .

"What'd you find, sweetheart?" he murmurs as he balances her on his thigh.

He reads to her. He has the voice for it, soft and sweet.

"We had sandwiches," you argue, two hours and what feels like fifty stories later.

Eddie had known before he suggested it that you were gonna fight him on this. He’s managed to end up behind the stroller, weaving between unlucky bystanders as his eyes search for somewhere to eat.

“And they were awesome."

“Eddie,” you complain softly.

He peeks at you by his side, grinning at the plastic bag full of books you’d insisted on carrying where it dangles from your fingers.

You take his smile for teasing and sigh. “Come on. I’ll make dinner when we get home.”

“Sweetheart, as much as I love your cooking that’s hours away. We don’t have to go anywhere fancy. Look, there’s a McDonald’s right there,” he says, pointing toward the yellow ‘M’ sign where it flickers, breaking up a white sky.

“I’m not hungry,” you say. He senses your proposition before you offer it. “But if you wanna get food, that’s fine.”

“You don’t like McDonald’s?” he asks.

“I’m really not hungry.”

“Just think of it like- like using the bathroom before a long car ride. You might not need to, but it’s never a bad idea.”

Inside of McDonald’s, Eddie can tell how unhappy you are, your eyes drifting to the menu and your fingers squeezing both handles of the plastic bag.

He parks Junie’s stroller next to a low table and you slide into the booth beside her. He doesn't sit right away.

“You remember what I said?” he asks quietly, leaning on the table with one arm, head inclined to yours.

Your eyes flicker between his face and his arm. You measure his gaze “Doing things for the people you care about,” you say, equally hushed.

Eddie reaches out to squeeze your wrist. “Exactly.” He tries not to squeeze too hard in case his rings dig into your skin.

When you smile, he grabs the high chair and transfers one unhappy toddler into its constraints. There's a little basket of crayons and colouring papers near the registers that you plunder while he orders. By the time he gets back with a greasy tray of food and drinks Junie's made a masterpiece.

"Is that supposed to be me?" he asks brightly.

Of course it isn't – there's a shock of blue and a red blob almost shaped like a heart next to the dark printed outline of Ronald McDonald. It's worth the risk of sounding like an idiot because you start to laugh so hard you can't scold him for the desserts.

After wiping down the highchair's tray with a baby wipe, you peel open Junie's cheeseburger and start to break it into small pieces, blowing on each one vigorously before passing them over. You're about to start on fries when Eddie flicks your hand.

"Eat," is all he says, swiping her fries out of your reach to copy your process.

Tray laden with an abundance of bite-sized fast food, she grabs a cheesy looking slice of burger and screams loudly.

Eddie gawps. "What was that? Is it too hot?"

You swallow a sip of your drink and the cup sheds condensation like a spattering of raindrops when you put it down. "I think she's having a really good day," you say..

"Well fu-" he amends his cuss word quickly, "-dge, me too, junebug. Best day out ever. We got books, burgers, and I'm with my two favourite girls."

It might have sounded more romantic if he hadn't said it around a mouthful of big mac. You look almost as happy as Junie does anyway,

When Junies just about finished you carry her off into the ladies to change her diaper and freshen up. You have a baby in one arm and a bag full of diapers and bottles and onesies in the other, and you stare into the mirror and can't work out Eddie's angle.

Eddie is loud and crude and clumsy. He smells like his close friend Mary Jane half the time and he doesn't know how to style his hair. He laughs loud, sings louder. Almost everything about him is unapologetic and brash, his dark looks and ripped up clothes, his van, his smile.

And he's nice. He's so nice. Down to the bone, maybe down to his soul, there's a kindness that floors you every single time. He smiles and he squeezes and he says sorry for things that aren't his fault. He helps without being asked. How many times now has he knocked the door, found you kneeling on the living room floor folding clothes and thrown himself opposite you? Bet you I can do double what you've done in five minutes flat. Or stationed himself at Benny's for lunch to check you're having a good day? Here's five for the pretty waitress I saw earlier, make sure she gets it, won't you? How many times has he, hair limp and clothes rumpled, burst beaming into the kitchen with enough dessert for a family of five and a gallon of juice? Why wouldn't I get a gallon? Junebug'll have drank half by the time you sit down, sweetheart.

You look at yourself in the mirror and you can't work out why.

"Hi, girls," Eddie says when you return.

He's cleared off the table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest. Like this, the lean trim of his waist is emphasised, as is the slight curve to the tops of his thighs.

"Hi," Junie says. You echo her greeting.

"D'you have fun? Powder your noses?"

"Can't you tell?" you ask. You did not powder your nose.

He straightens up and peers at you assessingly. "Definitely. S'like you got prettier, and I thought it was impossible." His voice is sugar sweet by the end, attention on Junie. She's aching to be put down and writhing in your grip, but his voice catches and holds her attention until you're back outside.

It's cooler. The air cleaner. You put Junie down and clasp her hand firmly in your own, bending at the waist to tell her face to face, "No running off, alright? You hold mommy's hand tight." You squish her little fingers until she giggles. "Okay?"

"Okay," she says.

"Okay, thank you." Then, because she looks so sweet and this has been one of the best days of your life, "I love you."

You kiss her cheek.

Eddie won't let you push the stroller. "You concentrate on little miss trouble," he says mildly, kicking the brakes with a frown. "I got this. Maybe."

Half a block to the goodwill. It's not as big as you'd expected but there's a fun furniture section that draws Junies attention. You're reluctant to let her climb on the furniture in case anything is dirty or infested, though you do sit her in a wicker chair for a tree swing and a huge velvet loveseat like she's goldilocks, asking, "How's that? Comfy?"

Hidden away, there's a bookshelf painted green and pink that threatens to topple over hiding a grandfather clock still ticking. You lift Junie up so that the three of you can look at the clock face, a small silver disk with illustrations on either side. A gorgeous swelling of purples and melty blues in a ring behind the man in the moon. The sun, a buttery yellow buffeted by white-blue clouds.

"Grand," Eddie praises.

"What did you want to come here for?"

He grins at you and nods his head to the left. "It's over there."

'It' ends up being a clothes rack longer than your trailer home partitioned by size. Every t-shirt different but bragging the same premise – band merchandise. A riot of rock bands peppered in popular duo's like Tears for Fears and the occasional Cyndi Lauper tour shirt, each one sticking out like a sore thumb; a rainbow array besides faded blacks and slate greys.

"Why'd they have so many?"

Eddie shrugs, though he tries to explain his theory anyways. "There's a venue maybe… four blocks away? That has these vendors outside all the time shelling knock-offs."

"So these are knock-offs?"

"Most of them. They're usually in good condition though."

He's right. You find all kinds of shirts in varying qualities. Some obviously real, thick fabric and perfect prints. He picks up a Judas Priest tour shirt that he claims to be the real deal, a Metallica long sleeve that most certainly is not. There's a Twisted Sister shirt with a mysterious brown stain and a Ghoulie Girls muscle tee that's almost completely split down one side.

You shuffle through the things in your size, absent-minded. Junie's not interested in the slightest and is starting to complain. You fend off an oncoming tantrum with a pack of fruit snacks, offering them to her one at a time.

Eddie whistles where he's standing a short distance away, "Oh, fuck."

He unhooks a hanger and holds it out, amazed. "Oh, shit."

"Eddie," you chastise. Not because you care, but Junie saying either of those words at daycare would suck.

"Sorry, sorry. You like these guys, right?" He holds up a t-shirt for The Mamas and The Papas, a group from the sixties. It looks new.

It's the only cassette you own where you can stand to listen to both sides all the way through. "Yeah. Like Cass Elliott's stuff more."

"Who's that?"

You point at Elliott on the shirt. "Her."

"Guess how much they want for it," he demands.

You think. Junie whines for another snack and you give her the packet. "Ten dollars?"

"A dollar." He passes the shirt to you so you can see it for yourself and leans down to bundle up your sighing daughter. She can't decide whether she's enjoying it for a good few seconds, her annoyance at being somewhere this underwhelming for so long clear but fading as Eddie shushes her gently. "Isn't that sick?" he asks you.

"It would be sick, if you liked them."

He shrugs. "I'll wear it as pajamas. A dollar for a shirt? You can't steal it that cheap."

You laugh and drop it into his basket. He bumps his shoulder into yours until you move down the rack, his fingers searching for something with focus. You're in awe at how he's handling it, a basket heavy in the crook of his elbow and Junie on his hip trying to share her fruit snacks with him unsuccessfully.

"Ah-ha!" He pulls out a black t-shirt. The back to you, you can't tell what's so interesting about it until he flips it around. "What do you think?"

It's the same The Mamas and The Papas shirt.

"You want?" he asks.

You check the price tag before answering and find yourself laughing gleefully, almost smug. "Hey, this one's fifty cents."

He gasps. "What?"

"I can afford that one myself."

He pulls it out of your hand, quick but not cruel, and tucks it into the basket. "Don't care. Wanna see if they have one in Junie's size?"

"They won't."

"What about a small and we cut the excess off? She can wear it like a dress. We'll all match."

Eddie picks up a bunch of t-shirts for you, some funny, a lot plain bad. You wonder if you're being made fun of but from the gleeful expression on his face you know he's just having a good time. It's sweet, really, how he seems to pick the more feminine looking ones for you. You try your best to calculate how much he's spending on you – it feels tacky and silly, but urgent – and end up losing the thread. He must've passed ten dollars by now. It makes you feel sick.

You see your saving grace across the way.

"Oh my god!" you feign surprise. Both Eddie and Junie look up at you, startled. "You know what mommy just saw?"

Junie perks up.

"What did I just see? What did mommy see?" you encourage.

"What?" she asks.

"I saw… teddies!"

"Mr. Bear?" she asks.

You beam at her. "Mr. Bear's brothers and sisters, I think. Should we go look at them?"

She says yes and then something else you don't catch, squirming aggressively to be put down.

Eddie says, "Sorry sorry sorry," and lets her down gently.

She snatches your hand and starts to tug you away. You glance over your shoulder to make sure Eddie's following you and he is, a melty-warm smile on his face. You navigate the store floor and almost knock down a bucket of hats with the stroller on the way to the teddies. There's a few of them, all lined up in a row next to jigsaw puzzles and old board games.

"I didn't think this through," you say, watching as Junie picks through the teddies with a huge smile on her face. She starts to hug them towards her and you try not to cringe.

"You can scrub her when we go home," Eddie assures you leaning against the stroller, hair behind his ears.

You grab the end of a curl and pull it back in front of his face, messing with it until it falls the way you want it to. He stays very still. "I might need to de-flea her."

He laughs and it's a shock, an abrupt sound that makes your chest ache with fondness.

"You might. I got some tea tree oil lying around somewhere if you need it," he says.

"And if she gets dermatitis?"

His grins turns embarrassed. "I don't know what that is."

"It's like-" You tilt your head to the side to mimic his own and drop your hand from his hair. "It's gross. Like a bad rash."

"Oh, then we'll give her a tomato soup bath."

You burst into laughter and have to grab his arm to stop from toppling over, or at least that's what you tell yourself. "That's for skunks," you manage to tell him, giggling loudly.

"Shit, really?"

You nod at him, wanting to kiss the sheepishness straight off of his lips. "You're thinking of an oats bath," you say. "Oats are good for the skin. And milk."

"So we just rub her down with oatmeal. Case solved."

Your hand rubs over the curve of his forearm until you reach the cold bite of his chain bracelet. It brings your attention back to what it is you're doing. You pull your hand away.

You have enough money to get Junie any teddy she wants. You'd made sure of that. You'll just have to hide the train in your tights and wear your waitressing skirt low on your hips for a week or three until you can afford a new pair of pantyhose.

You move to kneel next to Junie. She's pulled every teddy off the shelf and sits half-buried in them, talking a hundred words a minute. You think she might be make-believing, catching the slightest difference in her tone as she shakes one bear and then the other.

After checking the price tags stuck sloppily to each ear, you realise you can afford two.

Best day ever.

"Junie," you say with intent, heavy so she'll look at you. "I want you to pick your two favourite bears. Yeah? Pick which ones you like the best. And we're gonna take them home, okay? Give them a bath, brush out their fur, get them some jammies."

Watching the way her expression changes as she realises what you're saying is confirmation. This is the best day ever.

She decides eventually on one too many. There's a pastel green-blue rabbit with floppy ears and a ribbon tied around his neck, half a face of whiskers that make him quite charming and a worn tail. Next to him is a classic teddy bear who could be Mr. Bear's younger brother who seems in very good condition. Last, a bigger, softer golden teddy with an enamel nose and eyes lies over her lap.

You can't afford all three.

You've barely opened your mouth to tell her, a weak smile on your lips ready to placate when Eddie says, "The rabbit is classic. You'll have to let me get her that one."

"Eddie," you say, looking up at him as you shake your head, "you can't. I can't let you."

"She'll have to share him with me, obviously. He's punk rock."

It's the least punk rock plushie you've ever seen.

"Eddie," you say again, quietly.

He scoops the hair away from his face like he's going to tie it up. "Y/N." He says your name expectantly. When you don't budge he lets his hair fall back to his shoulders and turns serious. "You can pay me back, if you want to."

"Really?"

"Only for the rabbit."

You purse your lips to fight a smile.

Junie throws herself into your lap with her new treasures. "For the rabbit," she parrots factually, gazing up at you with eyes full of content. Her small smile means everything.

"He's a bunny," you murmur, fingers brushing his rough ear.

"He's sweet." Eddie crouches in front of you. He smells like something nice though you can't think of what it is. Cologne, something dark and deep hiding under a woody scent. Maybe sandalwood. His knee taps your thigh and his hand wraps around your shoulder for balance. "Got a dirty nose though. Who does that remind you of?"

You giggle and tap Junie's nose. "I wonder."

Down what feels like a thousand steps and back into the parking garage, your legs are hurting in the best way and Junie's half asleep in her stroller. You'd reluctantly let her keep the blue-green rabbit in hand, and she snuggles him close to her chest.

"I'm actually genuinely worried she's gonna get something from him," you confide.

Eddie weaves his arm through yours. "Like rabies?"

"A rash."

"I'm allergic to gain detergent tablets," he says, his hand slipping away from you so he can put both on his hips. "When I moved in with my Uncle Wayne he didn't know that, obviously, not at first. We didn't notice for a while. One day I'm scratching my chest and he says to me, boy, what are you doing always itching like that? You ever take a shower?" He impersonates his uncle's disappointed frown.

You laugh. "Poor baby."

"I mean, I probably wasn't showering." He laughs. "I was like, wow, thanks Uncle Wayne, I love you too.

"He lifts my shirt up in the middle of the kitchen and we both just stare at this rash. It was the first time I'd really noticed. I didn't… I was a skinny kid, I didn't really find any pleasure in looking at myself. And- He got so serious. Asking me if I was okay, if school was stressing me out."

"He thought you were hurting yourself?"

"In a way… It wasn't the first time he tried to get me to talk about how I was feeling, but it was the first time I thought- I mean, the first time I realised that it was permanent. That we were-" He cuts off with a laugh. "I'm being weird."

"No weirder than usual," you tease. Your expression softens.

You slow, trying to convey how much you want to hear it with a smile. You don't want to say something that'll weigh on the impossibly light mood you're both in; the ground practically glows yellow under your shoes, the two of you walking on sunshine or something remarkably similar.

"I guess I realised he was gonna take care of me. I told him all about school, stuff I'd been lying about, how the Walton twins kept taking my lunch money, how I was failing algebra. How much I," he licks his lips and then smiles, "how much I missed my mom."

"Do you still miss her a lot?" you ask, though you know the answer.

"Yeah, I do. I don't remember everything, but I remember the way she talked sometimes. I don't remember her voice," he concedes, "just… the way she moved. She would lean back whenever I was getting into trouble, and she'd get this look on her face like I was the funniest thing on the planet."

You grin at him. Your cheeks ache from what must be a hundred smiles today. It's a really nice memory to have.

"You are pretty funny," you say.

"What was that? You think I'm pretty and funny? Baby, you spoil me."

You stop altogether and press your fists into your eyes, defeated. "I should've seen that one coming."

"Yeah, you should've."

Soft snores, so quiet you almost miss them. By the time you've got back to your car Junie's sleeping with her chin to her chest and the rabbit's ear held tight in her small hand.

"Will she wake up?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Not if I'm very, very careful," you whisper.

You scoop her up and tuck her into her carseat, holding your breath all the while. Eddie tries his best to fold down the stroller.

You emerge from the backseat and make a soft pitying sound. "Stuck?"

"I can do it," he promises, head and face hidden behind the padded seat. His hands fight with the metal bars holding it in place. Again, you tap the right strut with your shoe to help him out.

He says thank you but refuses to look at you. You swear you're gonna kiss his cheek this time for real because he deserves one and you really want to give him one, but he puts the stroller into the trunk and touches your waist as he opens the driver's side. Any bravery gets turned into mush.

He rolls down the window and sticks his head out, ever amused. "Are you coming?"

You pause at the door and get closer than you mean to, close enough to find yourself distracted by the beauty mark along his jawline.

"You want me to drive?" you ask.

"No, sweetheart. You're good."

You smile at each other. It's a strange sort of smile, strange to be taller than him, strange to have your faces this near. There's a lot to say but maybe now isn't the right time to say it, or maybe now is exactly when you should, and his face lifts up just a touch and your hands feel heavy at your sides.

"Eddie…"

You close your fingers over the door, braced as his body turns to yours. You get the sense that he's waiting for you to say – or do – something. To lean down. To take the leap.

He's the prettiest boy you've ever seen.

You waver.

"You know," he says lightly, blinking his long lashes at you in a way that has your heart skipping beat after beat, "if we hurry, I think we can get on the highway before the work rush. We'll be back in Hawkins before dark."

You bring your hand to his cheek. A sorry and a thank you at the same time. "I don't want to be back in Hawkins before dark." I really want to spend more time with you.

"I'll crawl."

You press your lips together, tongue in your cheek to stop from giggling like a loser as you walk around the hood and climb in. He turns the key in the ignition and switches off the radio before it can wake up Junie. True to his word, Eddie goes what must be a half a mile an hour out of the parking garage. The car behind you beeps aggressively.

Your eyes flicker between the rearview and his grinning face. "What are you- oh."

"Crawling," he murmurs smugly.

The sun starts its slow descent. You use his knee for leverage and pull down his sun visor, then your own, blocking the light. Eddie says, "Thank you," very sweetly and you get comfortable and clip yourself in, anticipating a long drive home.

The stores turn on their neon, fast food and take out restaurants open for the night. The smell of warm oregano and olive oil is strong as you drive through the side avenue past a pizza place with its door thrown open.

Eddie asks if you're hungry and you decline. He takes it with grace and doesn't say much besides passing commentary until you realise he's going the wrong way.

"Eddie," you start.

"I know. Just- one last thing. Let me get one more thing and then we'll go home and you never have to let me spend money on you ever again."

You look over his pinched, pleading brows and his slight pout for any insincerity and find it in droves. "Until Friday," you say, dejected.

"Now you're getting it."

He pulls up to a small bakery and weasels his way inside. You wait, car idling, hands rubbing over the cracked leather of your seats wondering what sweet treat he's going to emerge with.

You have a nightmare – a heaping bag of donuts and shortbread and pastries, things you could never pay him back for, more to add to the impossible pile of things he's given you.

Doing things for the people you care about, you repeat to yourself wearily.

You hadn't expected anything for the haircut, but this is more than a haircut. It's difficult not to think of every dollar as an attribute of every hour he's worked. What makes you deserving of his literal physical labour?

I didn't force him. He likes me.

He certainly looks like he likes you as he appears again, shoving his wallet into the back pocket of his black jeans and wielding a flat looking plastic platter with an exuberant expression. He almost drops them trying to show you. Your heart shoots into your throat.

He's still chuckling when he throws himself into the driver's side. "Shit, did you see that? Almost lost 'em. Here, sweet thing. Hold the sweets. Makes sense, right? Sweet thing holding sweet things."

You accept the tray of what looks like a rainbow of blobs and go to peel off the lid. "Can I?" you ask.

"Of course you can."

You pull off the lid. Twelve cupcakes of all different colours in rows of four. The first four are chocolate cupcakes, one with green icing shaped like a frog, one with a white rabbit, one with an orange fox and one with a blue fish. The second row seems fancier. By the third and fourth row there's no pattern, just an assortment of flavours and decorations, chocolate curls and glitter, a half a strawberry, a smattering of mini marshmallows.

"What flavours that one?" you ask, pointing at a golden cake topped with multicoloured icing, a swirl covered in little crystal like sprinkles.

"I don't have a clue. I picked the first four and then realised it was taking too long. Told 'em to give me whatever."

"Eager to get back?"

"Eager as a cry for life. Try it."

"You don't want one before you start driving?" you ask.

"I'll try that one after you."

You peel back crisp, metallic shiny paper and take a cautious bite. It's a bourbon vanilla cake with a coffee flavour buttercream to cut the sweetness. You can't tell whether you like it or not at first, so you take another bite.

"Leave some for me."

"Sorry!" you say through a giggly mouthful. "Here."

He has both hands on the wheel. You don't know what possesses you – though you're starting to wonder if it can be called possession at all, more like a hunger that won't let things lie – to do it, but you bring the cupcake up to his face and hold it so he can take a bite.

He licks a big dollop of icing as it threatens to fall down his chin, head tilted high. "Oh my god. What is that? Is that coffee?"

"I think so."

"Okay, awesome. Let's try another one."

"What?"

"Let's try another one. There's still eleven left! We can save the cute ones for Juniper the Loveliest, but that's still a ton of flavours. C'mon, let me try the one with the chocolate curl. If I remember, it has white chocolate melted inside."

"If you remember?" you ask, peeling back the paper of his requested cupcake. "You've had these before?"

"A long time ago."

You tilt your head toward your shoulder and watch his lashes kiss. "Here," you say warmly.

He accepts the proferred cake and takes a good bite. His eyes roll back into his head dramatically and he goes stiff, shoulders tense and then suddenly not. You watch the muscle of his bicep flex as he tips his head back in pleasure.

You chortle and you're so happy you don't care how silly you sound, nor how unattractive you might look as you hit him in the arm. "Stop! You're enjoying it too much!"

"I'm enjoying it the right amount! Try it, try it," he says quickly. His eyes flick back to the tray. "I wanna try that strawberry one next."

"Watch the road, Munson, god! I'll pass you whatever one you want, just don't crash the car!"

You forget yourselves. Laughing, eating icing with your noses scrunched up, you don't remember to stay hushed, and soon Junie's awake and annoyed.

You worry for a second that her crying will dampen the mood, but Eddie beams wider still. He's more smile than boy.

"Junie baby! What cupcake do you want, sweetheart?" he asks her, watching her in the rearview mirror.

"Cake?" she asks.

"Cupcake! Yeah, baby, what one do you want? There's a froggy and a fishy and a bunny-" He stops to take a turn onto the highway. The road evens out underneath, the plastic tray stops crinkling. "And a fox," he finishes. "All for you."

You twist in your seat, bunny and fish held in your hands. "Fishy or bunny?" you echo.

"Fishy and bunny," she says clumsily, eyes widened with excitement.

"Just one for now, baby. Let's pick the bunny," you say gently.

There's no hopes of her eating it cleanly. You don't bother with any precaution. It's your car and her seat and her clothes and if she wants to cover it all in soft fondant you don't mind, anything she wants if you get to see this look on her face. Pure happiness, her eyes closing in bliss as she takes her first bite.

"Good, huh?" Eddie asks, speaking glances at her.

"Good!" she says loudly, cheeks plastered in white icing and fluffy golden crumbs.

Then, like the good girl she is, she tries to offer up the cupcake and almost drops it.

"S'that for me? Aw, you keep it. You keep it. Mom's gonna share hers with me." He grins at you. "Isn't that right?"

You share that entire tray of cupcakes right there in the car. By the time you get home, back to Hawkins, it's dark, your stomach hurts, and every cupcake bears two missing bites.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | multi-chapter

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader

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finelinefae · 2 months

Text

soft

synopsis: girls with cute tummies and soft thighs and extra chub in different places can also date hot popstar boys okay? okay.

word count: 2.1 k

contains: plus size reader, non au harry, fluff, mentions of body image and insecurities, harry being obsessed with his girlfriend

A/N: the start of a new thing called 'soft girl sundays' which I'm starting !! i wrote this for wp a few months ago but it's one of my fave things I've written so I'm re-posting it here. it's cheesy and fun and harry's obsessed with his girl !! i know for a lot of us girlies sometimes it feels like we take up too much space and we're always made to feel smaller mentally, physically, in every way really but you have much of a right to be here as everyone else so take up alllll the space u need !! women are beautiful and majestic no matter their size 💘

. . .

My girls' in the audience tonight.

I look past the curtain across the stage and see her in the VIP section.

Even without the stage lights shining on her, she's glowing.

She's wearing a shirt with my initials stitched over her heart and every time she lifts her arms, I see her soft tummy and the dimples on her back when she spins. Her thick thighs are on show as she wears the smallest pink skirt known to man. Her hair falls past her shoulder and down her back and her cute cheeks turn pink as she smiles when she speaks to some of the team who stand with her.

She's the living embodiment of the divine feminine and I can't ever seem to get over the fact that she's all mine.

The music begins to play and I watch as her face lights up with excitement. She's seen this show over a few dozen times but she never fails to be just as excited as the first time she saw me walk on stage with a hickey on my neck that she'd put there moments before.

When it's my queue, I skip onto the stage and my ears nearly burst as the sound of people screaming over the music starts to fill the stadium. She's smiling, she's cheering, she's singing the words to every single song. She's so pretty and she's all I see.

When the show ends, I walk backstage to my dressing room. Normally I'd run into a car and get the Hell out of there before crowds of people start to fill up the streets to get home, but this time, Y/N was here and I knew how much anxiety she felt whenever we had to rush to be somewhere.

I walked in and accepted the compliments from my team after another successful show. Paris was a city I held close to me so it was always a fun time when we played.

I gulped down a glass of water and felt arms snake around my waist. I immediately grinned when I saw the lilac-painted nails that matched my very own. I feel her nuzzle her face into my back before I twist in her embrace and look into the eyes of the girl I love with everything in me.

"Hi baby," I whisper, stroking her cheek that still had glitter on it.

"Hi Harry," Y/N murmurs, her eyes tired but full of happiness.

"Y' okay?" I hold her, feeling her soft skin beneath my hand. She was so soft and cuddly.

"I'm okay." She smiles, lazily. "You did so good up there. I nearly cried,"

I laugh, "You always nearly cry."

"That's because I'm proud of you." She shrugs.

We sit on the couch and she straddles my lap, her skirt riding up and I nearly choke when I catch a glimpse of her lacy underwear. I put my hands on her thighs and squeeze them softly. "You excited for our trip tomorrow?" I asked, staring at her lips and suddenly feeling the temptation to kiss them. I did and she happily accepted.

We had a few days before the next show so we decided to head down to the South of France and spend a few days in Nice. We haven't been on a trip together in a while other than the tour locations so we made the most of the little time we had in between shows to spend as much time as we could together.

She nods, "I bought a new swimsuit just for the occasion."

I groan, my head falling back against the couch, "You kill me."

She giggles, "love you."

I immediately smile. "I love you too," I kiss her.

The morning after the show, we woke up early to make our flight down to Nice. Y/N whines the entire time because she's not a morning person and refuses to step one foot out of bed until I force her.

She sleeps on my chest the entire journey there, wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up. "My whole heart is inside y'." I murmur as her cheek presses against my chest and makes her lips all pouty, light snores falling from them. I lightly push some of her baby hairs back from her face and trace my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.

We arrive and head straight to our room at the hotel to drop our bags off before heading to the beach. Y/N immediately opens the doors to the balcony and gasps when she looks out at the view. "Harry, it's beautiful," Y/N says in awe.

I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her tummy, squeezing the softest part of her. I loved all the parts of her but her tummy was my absolute favourite. She always complained about it. How it stuck out when she wore tight clothing and even more so after eating. 'Harry I already have a tummy? Why punish me further by making it bigger after I eat? Seems unfair don't you think?' I'd spend the whole journey home telling her how beautiful she looked and how I loved watching her enjoy the food she loves and then I'd hold her in bed and run circles on her little, bloated belly because I had made it my life's mission to show as much love to the little chub of a tummy she had.

I pull on my swim shorts and a white linen shirt, leaving the buttons undone. I pack my beach bag for our beach towels and my book as well as my film camera and sun lotion.

Y/N walks out of the bathroom. Her hair in loose curls from the heat and her face already sunkissed and pretty. My mouth falls open when I take in the small, blue bikini on her body, revealing her soft curves and every perfect inch of her.

"Do you like it?" She blushes, acting like she's not the hottest girl I've ever seen in my entire life.

It tied at her waist and around her neck, my immediate thought being how easy it would be to take it off her and spend the entire day in bed, making out or whatever. I honestly couldn't care less as long as she's there.

"Baby," I dropped the bag on the floor and made my way towards her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilting her head back so I could kiss her at the perfect angle.

She whines and the sound nearly has me dropping to my knees. "You're fucking unbelievable."

"You really think so?" She bites back a smile, "You don't think I need to hide my stretch marks?" My heart aches at how unsure she sounded, the fact she even had to ask made me want to pick her up and kiss each stretch mark on her body.

"No, my love," I shake my head, kissing the stretch marks at the top of her left breast and feeling her heart racing at the delicate touch. "You have absolutely nothing to hide from anybody. Y' beautiful and you're mine,"

She smiles and kisses me again.

We head down to the beach to the reserved sunbeds. Y/N lays out her towel and sits down to apply sun cream to her arms and legs. I help her do her back, massaging her shoulders and trying not to combust as she rolls her head to the side and moans at the feeling.

I literally have a crush on this woman.

And she's my fucking girlfriend.

What did I do to get this lucky in life?

"Let's go in the water baby," I held her hand and we walked to the water, stepping in together.

She wraps her arms and legs around me when we're deep enough in the water. I squeeze her ass and she gasps, swatting me gently. "What?" I look at her innocently.

"There's people watching." She hides her face in my neck and I turn us both around to catch sight of the paparazzi hiding behind the trees and snapping pictures of us.

I release a sigh and pull her face back to get a better look at her. If there was one thing that could make my girlfriend second guess herself, it was the paparazzi constantly posting her pictures online and allowing people to berate her for how she looked.

"Please don't let them ruin your day my love," I kiss her shoulder, still holding her in my arms. "I promise, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"You promise?" She pouts.

"Feel this," I reach for her hand and guide her to the small bit of chub on my hip.

She gasps, "You have chub too!"

I rolled my eyes but smiled at the same time, her excitement was adorable. "Everyone's got something they're insecure about. No matter how hard I've tried I can't seem to get rid of it, maybe it's from all the cakes you've been making but how am I meant to say no to such a pretty face?"

She squeals in delight when I pinch her sides and giggles as I press kisses to her face. "Wanna go and sunbathe for a little, baby?" She nods and we both walk out of the water so she can sit in the sun for a bit.

I spend more time in the water and come out to find Y/N verging on the brink of sleep. I smirk as I crawl between her legs and lay between her thighs, sighing softly as I turn my head away from the sun and press a kiss to her inner thigh. She reaches down and runs her fingers through my wet hair, her nails scratching my scalp.

After midday, I order food to be sent up to our room. Y/N's passed out on the sunbed so I gently shake her awake, "Hi baby," Her pretty eyes flutter open, "Need you to drink something darling, you've been in the sun for a while." She slowly sits up and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. I unscrew the cap of the water bottle and pass it to her, watching as she almost drinks the whole thing.

"I got us room service to be delivered. Want to head back upstairs for a bit?" Her cheeks were red and her hair was all frizzy due to the humidity. She nodded and we packed our things up and made our way back to our hotel room.

Our food was already laid out on the balcony by the time we walked into the room. I had left the air conditioning on so the room was nice and cool since Y/N struggled to sleep when it was too hot and stuffy.

She was wearing my linen shirt over her bikini and I couldn't help but stare at her ass as I followed her to the table outside.

There was fruit, bread and pastries laid out on a spread at the table as well as a glass of red wine and some orange juice. Y/N sat on one of the chairs with one leg hitched up as she ate some of her baguette and cheese, her favourite snack to eat when we were in France.

"Are you having fun, my love?" I asked, taking a bite of fresh watermelon.

She nods quickly, "It's the best. Anytime with you is always the best,"

"Come sit here," I motion and move my chair out, patting my thigh. She doesn't hesitate and stands up to sit down on my lap.

I kissed the back of her neck and put one hand on her hip, my thumb traced the edge of the waistband of her bikini bottoms, slipping under the material to trail soft circles over her hip bones.

"I'm keeping you forever, I hope you know that," I murmur, appreciating this intimate moment between us which didn't happen as often as I liked them to but we made do.

"I hope so," She whispers.

I loved this girl for all she was. There is nothing in this world that could change just how much I adored her.

"Harry," She says my name, "This bikini is pretty easy to take off you know."

I choke, eyes widening and seeing the smirk on her face. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me and her ankles locking behind my back. "Is that a challenge or a request?" I kiss her lips, tasting the saltiness of the sea on them.

"Both," She says in between kisses.

This girl.

#softgirlsundays #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #writing #fic rec #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you

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bbyquokka · 11 months

Text

picture perfect

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem reader

genre: smut – MDNI

synopsis: you find a way to make more money not realising hyunjin is doing the same

warnings: smut, established relationship, distribution of explicate content (pics) online, sex work (onlyfans), taking videos during explicate moments (everything is consensual), oral sex (m rec), pussy drunk hyunjin, unprotected sex, cum eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cream pie, pet names, word 'girl' is used.

words: 3.3k ~ (3300)

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

desperate calls calls for desperate measures and that's exactly what you have done.

money is tight. you barely have enough to make ends meet. once you have paid rent, electric and water bills, you have just enough for groceries.

you soon grew tired of struggling. you don't like asking for help because you've been taught that it's a sign of weakness, plus, having to ask people for money isn't necessarily a smooth nor nice thing to ask for.

your boyfriend, hyunjin, is also in the same boat as you. he left his small town to live in the big city thinking nothing of it, until he realised how expensive it is. you both live on the same apartment block, just across the hallway from one another.

a cliché series of events happened that brought you both together. you've spoken to each other for months but it was nothing but a simple “hello” and small talk in the complex elevator. however, on this one faithful (and unlucky) day, did everything change.

one thing happened after another. a series of unfortunate events. your pay check hadn't come through and you needed that considering you were behind on the rent. luckily for you, the landlord is a kind and understanding person so he gave you some time.

after being on the phone for three hours, listening to the same elevator music whilst being on hold, you got no where, which naturally, lead to your frustration. you decided to just get on with your day, shop for groceries so that's at least one thing you don't have to worry about.

that didn't go as planned.

you went over budget. you didn't realise that the cost of living would also affect the price of food. you had so little groceries for such a high price, food that wouldn't last a week and to top it off, paper bags are now the new thing which you don't mind however, they're flimsy and weak.

on your way home, it started to rain. the rain was heavy, bouncing off the pavement and passing vehicles. you're pretty sure you got splashed by a car or two but you couldn't tell considering your jeans were soaked and sticking to your legs with your socks soaking up all the water from the hole in your beaten down trainers.

you got to the revolving doors of the complex. as if on queue, the flimsy paper bag broke resulting in all your groceries falling onto the pavement. you wanted to cry, to curse at the world for having such a bad day but a knight in shining armour came to your rescue.

hyunjin saw what had happened. he saw how soaked you looked, how your t-shirt was see through, jeans darkened in colour as your hair dripped with water. he looked at your sullen and defeated expression and felt sorry for you. he also felt something else for you, but now was not the right time to be having thoughts, especially when you looked so defeated and desperate for help.

he helped you. he gathered up your groceries and helped you to your apartment door, for you to find out that you lost your apartment keys–somehow. all you could do was laugh because if you didn't laugh, you'd cry.

hyunjin was nothing but helpful to you that day. he let you crash at his place, use his shower and dress in his clothing. you slept on the sofa and helped around the apartment for him such as cooking and cleaning, almost like husband and wife–almost.

since then, you two have been together as well as inseparable. you hate to ask for money. you always feel like you always have bad luck and well, it sucks.

you need money and you need it fast. your dead end job barely pays enough. as well as needing the money, you also want money because you want to buy yourself nice things. fund your little hobbies and dress up in nice clothing. buy what you want, when you want and not have to worry or feel guilty when you spend money on luxuries.

you came across an article about how much someone earns in a month just from subscriptions on onlyfans. after some research you learnt that onlyfans is a place for sexual photos and videos with people paying a subscription fee to ‘unlock’ and see the explicit content.

you thought about it, long and hard. for days and days you thought. the more you thought, the more you wanted to do it. if all you had to do was take a few explicit photos of yourself and not have to worry about money for years, then so be it.

what you didn't bank on, was your boyfriend to find out.

“how did you–?” you blink at hyunjin. his phone facing in your direction. your onlyfans profile staring right back at you. the colour drains from your cheeks, heart thumping against your chest.

it was supposed to be a calm and collective movie night. hyunjin wanted company, he phoned you up and you said yes, of course! you went to use the bathroom and within minutes, you came back to the living area to this.

“i knew it was you! i recognise those breasts anywhere!” hyunjin says with a chuckle as he turns his phone back to himself. his thumb swiping up his screen as he checks out your content.

you blink a few times. confusion as well as a million questions swim around in your head. he's not angry at you and that's confusing you.

“you have to send me this one, damn!” hyunjin groans as he shows you your topless mirror selfie. after a few more blinks, you suddenly come back down to earth. realisation hitting you.

“wait. all my content is locked behind a subscription fee.”

“yeah, i know.”

“so you paid to see my photos??” you say as you sit down on the sofa beside him. he hums, shrugging and giving you a nod. “why? how? are you not mad?”

“i was browsing the site and came across your profile, so i paid the fee to see what spicy content you have.” hyunjin smirks. his whole demeanour throwing you off massively. “plus, why would i be mad when i do the same thing.”

“oh i don't kn–wait, what?” hyunjin's cheeks turn a faint pink colour. he looks at you and grins before laughing at your shocked expression.

“i do it too. would be pretty hypocritical of me to be mad at you for doing what i do.”

“wait so, you also take pictures of yourself too?”

“yeah with the occasional video.”

“what type of videos?” hyunjin puts his phone down before leaning back with his legs spread.

“i jerk off. ”

“and people like that?” hyunjin nods. “more than the pics?”

“depends. everyone has different tastes in what they like.”

“why did you start doing this..?”

“why did you?”

“because i needed the money. my dead end job barely pays enough for this overpriced apartment. once everything is paid for, i barely have enough for myself. i just wanted that bit extra.”

“that's the reason why i started too. i underestimated how expensive living in the city is. now i earn enough to the point where, i don't have to do it. i just do it for fun.”

you look away. everything slowly sinking in. so many thoughts and feelings such as relief, washing over you. you feel close to tears. all those hours you spent awake in bed, feeling shackled with fear–worthless.

“hey.” hyunjin speaks softly, his hand coming into contact with your chin to turn it so you're looking at him “are you ok yn?”

“yeah.. yeah! it's just a lot to take in, that's all.” you laugh softly, leaning into his touch.

“was you worried about me finding out?”

“fuck yeah! stuff like this isn't very appreciated by many people. i was scared you'd judge me or worse; hate me.”

“oh baby. i could never hate you. i love you, plus you do whatever you like. i don't care as long as you're safe.”

“thank you.”

“plus, this just means we can start doing things together. if you want to, that is.”

“you mean as in..?” hyunjin licks his lips and smirks as he slowly nods his head. “like what?”

“well, you can suck my cock for starters. i think that'd be a great introduction video.”

“y-you mean, right now?” you bite your bottom lip gently as hyunjin runs his fingers through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. he gathers a bunch of hair and tugs at the roots causing you to hiss.

“yes, right now. be a good girl and put that mouth of yours to good use.” with a single nod and a hum, you shuffle off the sofa and between hyunjin's legs.

you lick your lips at the sight of his already erect penis that's happily forming a tent in his sweat pants. you grab the waistband, hyunjin lifting up his hips as you pull the fabric down his legs.

you squeeze your thighs together as you press the palm of your hand against his bulge, roughly. you begin to palm him, starting off slow and steady before picking up the pace once you feel him twitch.

all the while, hyunjin has grabbed his phone and started to record you. he makes sure not to get your face into the shot. you slowly trace the outline of his penis with your fingernail, before giving a few rough squeezes at the tip.

“let's not keep the people waiting baby. hurry up.”

you grab the waistband of his boxer shorts, pulling them down his legs to pool alongside with his sweats. his erection springs free, hyunjin making sure he catches it on camera, releasing a satisfactory hum.

you lick your lips hungrily, loving the red blush on his tip and the shimmer of pre-cum that seeps from his slit. you wrap your hand around the base, his girth too thick for your hand to wrap all the way around.

“look at that. your hand looks so small wrapped around my thick cock.” he hums. you whimper softly at his dirty talk, something you've never experienced from hyunjin before. it's clear he is playing up to the camera, being a bit extra for the sake of the content–but you love it so much and want more.

hyunjin runs his fingers through your hair slowly, his fingertips massaging your scalp. he pushes the back of your head towards him, stopping when you're eye level with his cock. you rub his tip suddenly with the pad of your thumb, fast and harsh–just the way he likes it.

if hyunjin wants to put on a show, then a show he shall get.

his hips suddenly buck upwards at the harsh rubs. your thumb coating in his pre-cum. hyunjin stutters and legs shake, hand quick to release from your hair to grab your wrist to make you stop.

he heavily pants, a thin sheen of sweat resting on his forehead. you look up at him innocently but give him a quick smirk.

“you cheeky girl.” he grunts. you batter your eyelashes at him in a sickly sweet manor. the innocent, sweet expression on your face making hyunjin want to dirty you and mark you as his territory.

“suck.” you shiver at the harshness of his tone. a dominant tone that screams ‘don't mess with me.’ you nod once, parting your lips to allow your tongue to slide out and make contact with the underside of his shaft.

you give it a long, slow lick to the tip, using the tip of your tongue to poke and lick his slit. pre-cum gathers on your tongue as you flatten and swirl it around his tip.

hyunjin hums softly, spreading his legs wider and sinking into the material of the sofa. his head kicks back as his eyes close, his black permed hair falling behind him.

you wrap your lips around him, suckling on his tip whilst swirling your tongue around it a few more times to get it soaked in your saliva. you lazily stroke the base, occasionally rolling and squeezing his balls.

you embrace his length by engulfing it. the warmth and wetness of your mouth sends shivers down to hyunjin's balls and cock, making him twitch in your mouth. you hum around his length which makes hyunjin shiver and part his lips to let out soft moans and grunts.

your eyes flutter shut. you allow yourself to focus and get lost in pleasuring your boyfriend. his breathy pants and moans in the form of your name encourages you. you manage to get half his length, if not a little more, in your mouth but not without gagging a few times and feeling like you cannot breath.

saliva accumulates and drips from the stretched corners of your mouth. it gathers and pools at the base, coating your hand and making it uncomfortable for you. you swallow the saliva, swallowing him in the process. throat clenching around his thick cock causes hyunjin to gasp out loud.

he looks down at you, phone still being held at a decent length considering the current state he is in. he grabs a fistful of your hair, bundling it up to yank at. you let out a pained whimper, eyes squeezing shut.

wet, sloppy sounds paired with the occasional pop when you release him from you mouth mixes in the living area. hyunjin can't control his moaning. your spit and tear stained face a stark contrast to your usual innocent and clean look.

he just wants to dirty you even more.

“i can never get over how fucking good you are at giving head, yn.”

you smirk, giving him a simple hum before engulfing his length again. you suck, lick, fondle and hum causing hyunjin to come closer and closer to the edge. his grip on your hair tightening, his balls straining as heat pools to the pit of his stomach.

“fuck, cum. i'm going to cum yn, shit.” hyunjin splutters. his hips buck up suddenly, tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag as his fluids shoot and coat your throat. he heavily pants, body twitching and muscles spasming.

you swallow the best you can, pulling away to lick his tip and your lips clean.

“shit..” hyunjin pants, stopping the recording and putting his phone down. “that was fucking amazing.”

“seems like you enjoyed it a bit too much hyun.” you smirk, eyes flickering to his still hardened cock.

without a word, hyunjin rises to his feet and picks you up in one swift motion. he walks to the bedroom, opening the door and throwing you on the mattress before stripping himself of his clothing.

“i just want so much more of you yn. you're addictive.”

—

“f-fuck! ah, h-hyun. c-cant, i can't!”

“you can, i know you can!”

you let out a shaky whimper. bodies slick with sweat and body fluids, hyunjin driving you to your nth orgasm of the night. feeling sticky in cum and juices paired with the suffocating heat of hyunjin's body–it's all becoming a little overwhelming.

your body has been put in various positions. love bites, nail indentations and red marks decorate each others skin. hyunjin is approaching his limit but he's too hungry for you.

the overstimulation of each thrust is too much for you both, but you're both addicted to each other, to the feeling. you desperate cling and claw at hyunjin, whilst he hisses in pain. your cunt is sensitive but so warm and sloppy that hyunjin just doesn't know if he can stop.

“good.. good. so good, fuck yn.” he blabbers as his hips snap against yours. his bottom lip swollen from biting down too much and too hard, his hair slicked back and in place thanks to the sweat from his body.

“please don't stop. keep going, fuck.” you pant. you're both drunk and hazy from lust and love. neither one of you knowing what you're saying. everything is just a daze, it's just you two in the moment.

the bed creaking, sheets tangled and pillows nowhere to be seen. you're both going to have an earful from the neighbours when you see them; not that any of you care.

“your pussy just feels so good. it's so tight and wet. i'm being sucked in and you hold me so well.”

hyunjin's body is buzzing off adrenaline. he feels like he is being sucked into you, his mind and soul being lost into the abyss. he wants so much more of you, more than you can give.

hyunjin continues on with his blabbering, his eyes half lidded and glossy. lips parted, chest heaving. his movements show no signs of slowing down as he drives his cock deep inside you multiple times to hit that sweet spot of yours, driving you both closer and closer to the edge.

you babble along with him. hands reaching out from something to cling onto in hopes you come back down to reality–but nothing. with each drive of hyunjin's cock, with each hit of your g-spot, your body tingles and mind numbs over more and more.

the pits of your stomachs on fire, burning and tensing. you look at hyunjin to be met with pleading and desperate eyes. he grips onto your waist, movements now slow, sloppy and desperate.

“i want.. i need to–” his own sentence interpreted as his orgasm suddenly hits him. you clench around him as he empties himself inside you, filling you up some more to the point where you leak out onto the sheets.

your own orgasm hits you, knocking the air out off your lungs and making you arch you back off the bed. you both heavily pant as hyunjin slowly pulls out off you. you shiver at the feeling of cum and juices seeping out of you.

hyunjin looks at it sheepishly, feeling somewhat guilty. he knows he lost his senses during the process, he got drunk of you.

“sorry..”

“don't be. you know i love it when you're like that.” your body heavy with exhaustion. without a word, hyunjin rushes to the bathroom and grabs a wet flannel. he gently cleans you up, being delicate around your delicate areas as well as any sores, bruises or marks that may seem or look painful on your body.

“how long do you think you will do the onlyfans thing?” hyunjin asks before resting next to you. you think for a second, shrugging before looking at him.

“i don't know. until i get bored and feel like i have enough money, i guess. and you?”

“same. would you want to do it with more people?”

“what? like a threesome?” you smirk.

“yeah.”

“mhm, maybe. depends on who it is though. would have to be a close friend of ours. think it's safer than having a stranger.”

“that's true. plus i'd feel at ease if it was a close friend.”

“i have one question though, baby.” you sit up slowly, hyunjin following suit to help you.

“what is it?”

“would you want it to be man or woman?”

“mhm.. i don't really care if i'm honest babe.”

“same. i'm down for whatever, however, would you be able to manage seeing another person going down on me?”

“when you put it that way, i don't think i would. i think i'd get too jealous.”

“yeah, me too. seeing another person suck on your cock just fuels me with jealousy.” hyunjin let's out a small laugh, kissing your cheeks tenderly.

“maybe threesomes are not for us then, darling.”

“maybe not. let's just stick to posting on onlyfans for a while.”

note: this wasn't my original idea for hyunjin. i wanted to bring back an old fic from the dead but no matter how many scenarios, how many times i deleted and started over, it just didnt/wouldn't work. so i accepted that it wasn't going to work instead of stressing myself over it and created this mess instead, lmao. don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @oshimee ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

#kwritersworldnet #wkcnet #straykidsland #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #skz scenarios

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dapper-lil-arts · 1 month

Note

So, what are your favorite MLP ships? I don't know if you've already been asked this before, but meh

less about being asked, more about me posting them nonstop lmao;

#1 Sunlight - (Sunset Shimmer and Twilight Sparkle) Number one and two are interchangable due to my mood, because theyre both incredible, and easily fit on a "favorite ships of all time" list i could make for myself. Sunset and Twilight shipping is to me in general all about potential. And if im talking endgame, the show would have ended so, so much better, if there were two lesbians inheriting the night and day. These two are it, with flying colors. Going from rivals to friends to close friends to lovers that would do anything for eachother, to ruling the world in a golden age together, my goodness, this ship is like the chef's choice at a menu. I also may have written a large fanfic of how i would write an entire season of the show with Sunset on it, heheheheheh. Also worth stating, i concider Sunset x Scitwi To be on the same level, if not being the same ship, even if Scitwi is a diffrent character, if someone loves Twilight Sparkle, they would love her in all her versions. #2 Rarijack - (Rarity and Applejack) Did i say sunlight is the chef's choice at a menu? Rarijack is the whole fucking menu. What more can be said about the legend of how the most beautiful Unicorn and the strongest Earth Pony fell in love? The City girl x Country girl vibes are incredibly strong, the opposites attract is at it's PEAK, and both of these girls can easily concider themselves the luckiest women in the world for having the other. It was the first couple i shipped on the show when i watched passively, 'cause i instantly noticed their potential, and c'mon how couldn't anybody. They're the hydrogen bomb of mlp ships, and they could easily sustain an entire season on their back if it was about their love story, which is, painfully, not canon, like any of these ships. Also i'm literaly writing a fic that takes Shrek 1 and makes it about Rarijack and it's as dumbly amazing as it sounds #3 Startrix - (Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon) Honestly this one is easy to ship because it's just endlessly funny. The biggest fail girl that almost destroyed the world falls for the only girl thats a bigger loser than her, and that is endlessly entertaining; specialy because compared to trixie, Starlight is the baddest bitch lmao, and they would hype eachother so much. (insert that post of loser ass gf being hyped up by other cool gf) And there's just an appeal to two unhinged women finding eachother and making eachother... better? worse? I think theyre both at their best when traveling together. #4 Flutterdash - (Fluttershy and Rainbow dash) Fun fact, i didn't ship this until i wrote "the return of midnight sparkle" i just had to write scenes with certain themes, and i realised it would be helpful to further the themes and plot and character development of the protagonist if Rainbow and Fluttershy were macking on eachother. And it grew on me! Daredevil girl and shy girl lift eachother up and improve eachother. Honorable mention: That one ship with with Cadance, Shining armor, and Chrysalis; because it is honestly funny as fuck; no matter how you spin it, be it cadance and chrysalis mack on eachother and shining tolerates it, or the Princess and the Queen have a silent rivalry as they try to be with their himbo, or even if the three of them gross together. it's always funny. (queue chrysalis with the "im not the stepdad im the dad that stepped up" shirt while playing with flurryheart)

#mlp #ask #ships #mlp gen 4 #sunlight #rarijack #startrix #flutterdash #quieter honorable mention: Sunpie is very cute. They have a nice chemistry that i will honor.#good ask!

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gourdkeeper · 10 months

Note

Hi, tysm for your amazing Jamie fics 💗

I was thinking about a fic where Jamie sees Fem!Reader with Luke, whether it be catching a bite to eat, or sharing a hug or something, and Jamie takes it completely the wrong way and thinks there is something going on. Queue the issuing fight between Luke and Jamie!

Tysm again, best Jamie fics ever! 💓

Arghhahdhsks thank you!! I wouldn't say they're the best tho, Jamie got quite a few great writers <3 also damn!! First non smutty request! Enjoy!

Content warnings: jamie is really fucking jealous in this, violence, swearing, fem!reader, jamie is possessive once more, luke is just a perfect friend but he gets heated up too, reader doesn't put up with crap either

Word count: 1648

The sun was shining bright, there was a faint breeze in the air and the streets were bustling. It was the perfect day to grab a bite with a friend. And that was just the plan for today.

You invited Luke to hang out after working out together and he was overjoyed, accepted immediately. He likes you a lot as student, you're always eager to learn and you don't back down from a challenge, besides, you're really good company and friend. Luke likes playing video games a good deal and so do you, so every now and then you visit an arcade together or just play something online.

It's nice! Him and Bosch were your first friends when you first moved here and naturally, you cherish them a lot.

You walked through the park at first, it's a nice place nearby the academy and made way to the main streets.

Luke wanted pizza. Again.

"Luke please I'm gonna be sick of pizza at this rate." You huff at him and he just shrugs his shoulders at you.

"Getting sick of perfection? Couldn't be me-"

"You've eaten pizza the last time. And the time before that. And the one before too."

"Ok fine, what do you want instead? Burger?"

You can't help but laugh, how does this guy keep his physique when all he eats is junk.

"I don't know? Maybe we can grab some street food instead? The weather's nice and all!"

"Sweet! Sure, there's the pizza stall-"

You punch his shoulder in jest.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

You both joke around and end up settling on going to Chinatown, there's a new joint you wanted to try for a little while now and you were craving some ramen and soup truth be told.

Luke's stomach is growling and he starts mumbling about how he's gonna need to order the entire menu.

You suggest to take a starter to eat on the spot while you wait for the takeout order to be finished.

---

It's been a godawful day. His eyeliner isn't perfectly even. Just as he went out a bus splashed mud all over his pants. Then he got harrassed in the subway when all he wanted was to mind his business. Ugh.. he's sick and tired of the good-for-nothing brutes that keep taking over the city. It's even worse when the weather is good. The streets become packed. People bump into him. Thugs will try picking on him simply for being a "pretty boy".

And then there's the issue at hand, he wanted to grab some lunch and every damned place is full, bursting at the seams.

Jamie feels like he can't catch a break.

He decides to just call it a day. He'll just cook himself something much better anyway. "If these losers want to waste upwards to an hour in a queue they can take the L." He thinks to himself.

He's not aware that his day is about to become even worse.

He stops in his tracks just as he cuts the corner to go in his apartment.

"Luke?! What the hell is this douchebag doing here?" He stares for a bit and as Luke moves he notices someone covered by his wide silhouette. "...No way."

His thoughts are racing. "Now why, *today* of all days, is this joke of a man here and with *my* girl? What does he think he's doing? In *my* turf of all places."

He observes with a vein nearly popping at his temple as Luke extends a spring roll to your mouth and you happily take it. His blood boils as he sees you being all buddy-buddy with his rival. Trading smiles. Laughing at his lame jokes. The idiot even has the audacity of touching your face to wipe away a bit of food? How fucking dare he? How fucking dare he put his hands on you?

Jamie's fuming, any more anger bubbling in him and smoke would be coming out of his nose.

He spots the vendor calling them over to hand them take out boxes and bags. Huh? They're not gonna finish eating here? What? Is he intending on stealing his girlfriend away? Take her home? Nah, he ain't letting this slide.

He pulls and rolls up the sleeves of his yellow jacket and starts walking towards you and Luke. Head low, glaring through his brows and teeth bared.

"Oh Jamie hi!" You notice your boyfriend approach and wave, you didn't expect to run into him but you're always happy to see him.

"Jamie? Is everything ok?" You find his lack of response odd.

"Huh?" Luke turns around, spring roll still halfway in his mouth.

Expressing his initial confusion was all he had time to do before the long haired man pulled his arm back and swung at him. Fist landing right on his face, sending him backwards a few steps and making him spit the food out.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR BRO?" Luke doesn't understand what prompted him to this.

"Don't even start with the "bro's", I'm ain't no bro of yours." He spits at the ground directly in front of the blond. He's ready to throw hands.

"Jamie?!" You're caught completely off guard, why the hell did he do that? You rush to your friend, "Luke are you okay?"

He pushes you away lightly. "You might want to step aside. I'll deal with this."

People starts gathering around curious.

"Oh yeah? Why is that? Got tired of her boyfriend? Was I not enough?" Jamie snarls, "Or are you just trying to steal her away from me Mr. Perfect?!"

They push each other back in turns.

"What?!" You're incredulous, but... Kind of entertained at the same time?

"Is your girlfriend not allowed to have friends now?" Luke retorts.

"Not with dipshits like you, you fuckin' meathead loser."

"Oh I'm the meathead?! I didn't walk in here swinging. Peacekeeper my ass, that's the damn opposite you-"

"Watch your fucking mouth army boy."

"Or what?"

Their foreheads are almost pressing at each other and you decide to intervene before they both go fully at it and thrash the street.

"Both of you knock it off! What the hell is going on?" You slide in the middle and push your boyfriend away. "Back off Jamie, what is this all about?! You too Luke, back off!" They hardly move.

Luke tries to put his hand on your shoulder to get you to get away and Jamie slaps it off.

"Touch my girl one more time and you're eating concrete."

"Jamie! Luke is my friend, he's not doing anything wrong-"

"Oh is that so? Sharing food while giggling to each other? Right in front of where I live?"

"...we were just grabbing some food? Like...how friends do?" You can't believe you need to explain how friendships work to your partner. Is he really that jealous? Or is it just because it's Luke?

You heard that they don't get along before but this is a whole other level.

"Touching your mouth?"

"For fuck's sake this is ridiculous-" You can hardly believe this.

"Don't worry, that's what he does best, being ridiculou-" Luke can't even finish what he's saying before another punch comes flying in his direction.

He straightens up and launches himself at Jamie.

You quickly step away, trying to avoid being hit on accident.

Luke isn't holding back. He's holding Jamie by the jacket's collar and punching freely until Jamie manages to stick his foot on the other's abdomen and kick him off.

"If you both don't knock that off right now I'm going home."

They ignore you, more focused on fighting than on you.

"Fine. Have fun, get a room while you're at it." You walk off, huffing. "What the hell is their deal..." You mutter to yourself as you walk home alone.

---

A few hours have passed when you get a text from your dear coach.

"Hey, sorry about today, I'll pay lunch next time. Hope you're not mad at me."

You're not mad at him, I mean, he didn't really do anything wrong, he just refused to take shit.

There's a knock at the door.

"Babe, are you home? I'm sorry!" Jamie is yelling from outside.

You take a deep breath and go to open it.

Yikes... he looks like roadkill.

You keep your head low and you let him walk in.

"...I'm sorry about today." He takes his hands from behind his back and pulls out a small bouquet of flowers. "I know it doesn't make it right but..." He hands them over to you.

"Jamie... What was all that for?" You accept the flowers and you take a hand to his face, his lip is busted and eye swollen, it looks like it hurts.

"I just... I just thought that you two were being too close and that...you know."

"Luke and I are friends, I know him for longer than I know you, if I wanted to be with him like that I would have done it before. You can trust me."

He clearly feels stupid. He knows his actions were irrational and brash. Amplified by the bad day he had of course, but it doesn't excuse it.

"I know I can trust you... I'm sorry."

You crack a smile and laugh.

"W-why are you laughing..?"

"It's kinda cute-“

"What is-?"

"That you're soooo insanely jealous."

"Lies. The great Jamie Siu doesn't get jealous of anyone." He's struggling not to laugh himself, fully aware of how silly he sounds.

You hold his hands and kiss his cheek.

"I'll forgive you..."

His eyes light up.

"... If..."

"If?"

You smirk at him.

"You also apologize to Luke. I think he deserves flowers too."

He shakes his head laughing and clicks his tongue, "Tsk, I'm not giving that guy any flowers."

You raise your brow at him.

"Okay fine! Flowers for the scoutboy it is, ugh..."

#jamie siu #luke sullivan #street fighter 6 #jamie siu x reader #sfw #gourdkeeper #requests #reader really wants to put them in the “get-along shirt” lmao

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lovejosephquinn · 1 year

Text

Part 1 > Part 2

Angst to fluff. Break up to Make up.

Summary of Part 1: Joe and reader break up due to a drunken kiss Joe had at a party one night, she tells him to come over to collect his stuff but ends up sleeping with him one last time, both now sharing a broken heart, he tries to beg for forgiveness but she tells him to leave. He blocks her number and it's time to move on...

Summary of Part 2: It's four years later and Joe and reader bump into one another in the street, catching up she invites him over but instead he gets a surprise that is deemed life changing...

Tag list: @joeschains @munsons-mayhem28 @theoneandlaurie @aysheashea @itsfreakingbats @live-love-be-unique @josephfakingquinn @paranoidmunson @kayleeelena97 @figmentofquinn @choke-me-eddie @etherealglimmer @ches-86 @ali-r3n @daleyeahson @queengirl56 @sadbitchfangirl @purplerain85 @whoscamila @joe-quinn-loving-queer @freakymunson @idkjoequinn @astridflowers @evansgal

Word Count: 4k

Life was never the same again after that one afternoon that you said goodbye to someone you thought you'd love forever for the last time. It was not goodbye in the respect you'd never see his face again, plastered all over social media and various new movies you'd see him, reaching new levels of fame and soaring high in his career, that was the only way to see the man you once adored, yet it was a farewell all the same and a chapter you'd now closed in your life.

Four years had passed and everything had changed, you no longer cried yourself to sleep at night, you were in a job you didn't necessarily mind, you'd moved into a house, had a few dates here and there that didn't really last long for one reason or another yet above all that; you had the greatest gift of all. You were comfortable to say the least.

You wandered around the streets of Soho, London one sunny morning, not somewhere you went too often but your free day saw you in the mood for exploring your own city. Finding a quaint little café on a secluded part of town, the smell of fresh pastries and patisseries, coffee and the chatter of friends and people minding their own business were scattered around, you entered the glass door with the ring of a bell above it with the hope of a decent breakfast. You smiled at the scents around you, the warmth of the sunlight shining brightly through the big windows behind you, the queue was slightly long but you had all the time in the world, not an often occurrence in this day and age but you'd make the most of it.

Ordering a large coffee and pain au chocolat to go, you stood by the side of the counter before the barista called your name to collect your order, your stomach rumbled as you watched others devour their breakfast just as you were about to. Heading outside to bask in the sun and people watch, another of your favourite past times, you bit into the oozing French pastry, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head when the first bite hit your tastebuds.

Finishing it off quickly, you took the lid off of your coffee and began to walk back along the streets, your phone buzzed and you were too preoccupied staring down at it when you came to a sudden holt, stumbling and slamming into the lower chest of a person before you, your coffee spilled all over you and the stranger in question.

"Shit I'm so sorry!" You began to wipe yourself down, your chest burning from the clutch of the hot beverage, stains seeping down your summer dress.

"No, please I didn't look where I was-" The voice broke through your ear drums like a curse, a familiar sound if ever you'd heard one but you weren't quite sure where you'd heard it or why, scared to look up due to the pause of the low male voice, you instead sauntered to a nearby bin, throwing away the coffee cup, only to hear the voice catch up with you once again.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

You turned around and finally brought yourself to look a few inches up. Your ex boyfriend also known as Joseph more formally.

"Jos- Joe. Hi, oh my goodness. I didn't recognise you in-"

"This hat? No it's a disguise." He smirked playfully, god had you missed that look. You had to do a mental shake of your head, though it was years on you still needn't forget what he'd left you with.

"A pretty rubbish disguise if I ever saw one." You chuckled a small laugh his way, earning one back in return. Joe rubbed the back of his neck in an awkwardly shy remark.

"So what're you doing round my end?" He asked.

"Didn't realise Soho belonged to you." Your sarcasm showed and Joe noticed it right away, watching you glance around the area.

"You haven't changed a bit." He laughed again.

"I didn't intend to, good or bad?"

"Good. Always good." Joe smiled. It was like you were old friends, everything fell into place like something you'd never lost. But you had lost him, you'd lost him all those years ago and you were willing to forgive but you'd certainly not forget.

"So what're you doing here?" He was trying his best to keep the conversation alive, just awaiting the next sarcastic move.

"Well I was enjoying my coffee but apparently it had other ideas."

"Can I get you another, you know to make up for the one you lost?" Joe offered that smile that made you melt, the one you'd see on social media a lot of the time, the one that you couldn't ever say no to, a free coffee though? What's there to lose.

"Sure. It's the least you can do." You walked over to a different cafe, as much as to save the embarrassment of going back to the previous one to show off your stained clothing. Joe remembered your order, which was surprising due to the amount of time that'd passed, but it was sweet nevertheless.

Sitting down at the nearest table, you gazed out of the window once more, feeling not just the warmth of the sun anymore, but the burning of your blushing cheeks from the brown eyes that burnt into you, staring intently.

"So what's new with you?" Joe asked.

"Life's life. Decent job, new house-"

"Love life?" Wow. He had to drop the L bomb.

"Non existent." He looked somewhat relieved and surprised at the same time. That was clearly the one answer he wanted.

"Honestly, the same."

You talked for hours, catching up and bringing up old memories and times when you were happy together, teasing one another about silly little things, you'd not smiled like this in a long time, yet little did you know, in the same respect; neither had Joe.

He took a glance at his phone, whispering under a short breath shit, looking back up to you with sad eyes. "I gotta go, got a photoshoot to get to at the other side of town in 15 minutes."

"Duty calls." You smiled miserably, anyone could see through that smile, you were sad the short and surprising meet was coming to an end so quickly.

"C-could I maybe get your number? You know so we can maybe see each other again?" He dared ask the question that made your heart beat through your chest, the whole phone situation was a delicate one with you and him, especially because the last time you tried to contact him in desperation, he'd blocked you.

"Of course." You tapped your number in his phone and he quickly sent you a little smiley emoji so you had his in return.

"You're looking great by the way, I've missed you love."

"You too." You meant that in both ways, but keeping it short and sweet as a way to not get the wrong message from one another, you just agreed. Joe left swiftly, looking back once to offer you that beautiful yet reluctant smile.

Your head was in sub space for a while after, you couldn't quite believe what'd happened and it felt so right. After all this time, there was something you couldn't quite put your finger on, a coincidence, the universe sending you a message maybe? The second chance could've been there but you weren't rushing too quickly into it, you would only go as slow as your heart was telling you to but still your mind was racing ten to the dozen.

You'd just finished your house chores when your phone buzzed and you ran over to it like an excited child. It was exactly who you wanted to be on your notifications when your phone lit up.

Joe: Hey, it was so good to see you again x

You: Wasn't so bad to see you again either x

Joe: Maybe you could come over tonight? x

You: Let me check my schedule... x

Joe: Okay miss popular x

You: Appears I have space to fit you in, send me your address and I'll be there x

Joe: *Joseph shared location on maps*

Joe: See you at about 6pm? x

You: Looking forward to it x

A quick invite lead to you losing your mind, again, what had you got to lose? There was nothing wrong with hanging out with your ex from years ago, plus other secrets that you held, it was just something that maybe was meant to happen, something you'd silently dreamed of for a little while, gotten out of your head and then it reappeared again like a hidden surprise.

You turned up dead on 6pm, checking your phone to make sure you'd got the right address and knocked at the door. You didn't knock a third time before the door swung open and there stood him. Looking slightly more casual than earlier, glasses firmly a top his head, a warm and welcoming smile as he gestured for you to come in.

You don't know quite where the moment started or where it ceased to end, but a lovely meal cooked by the man himself, followed by a few glasses of wine ended in you getting a little too comfortable with Joe, maybe it was the liquid courage or maybe it was the feeling telling you to go with it. A what will be will be kind of situation. You were unsure how you'd managed to find Joe's lips plastered to yours, moulded perfectly as they moved in unison. It hadn't even been 24 hours since you met again for the first time and already sparks were flying between you. They say you never truly get over your first love and it showed in the situation you'd found yourself in.

Joe had caged you beneath him and the sofa and you were in full make out mode, tongues dancing and gliding around each other, hands roaming over each others bodies, the most intimate and beautiful moment you'd felt yourself getting into in such a long time, butterflies flipped in your stomach and your heart was racing in full panic attack mode, but you were happy and to your knowledge so was the man kissing you, you could almost tell by the smile you felt in the midst of the passionate encounter.

Joe pulled away, scanning your features, stroking his fingers down your cheek, enjoying the softness of your skin against his digits. "Maybe I didn't realise how much I'd truly missed you darling."

"Me either." You took a short sigh, content nonetheless but still a little scared. Focusing on the present and the most handsome man you'd ever laid your eyes on, you stroked your fingers along his jaw, he relaxed in your touch and closed his eyes, coming down immediately to plant sweet sloppy kisses along your own jaw and down to your neck. A small whimper erupted from your throat, which egged Joe on further, his hands now pressed firmly to your clothed breasts.

A crashing reality hit you when your phone rang, the vibration running along the coffee table next to you, you tried to ignore it but then the vibrations came again, and then again.

"Maybe I should answer that."

"Just ignore it."

It rang again. You moved up as a sign for Joe to get off of you. Moment ruined. It was your mum, you swiped your phone off of the table quickly and ran into the kitchen so Joe couldn't hear the other end. He tried his hardest to listen to the conversation and the tension rising, he swore he heard the sound of a faint cry coming from the receiving line, making his brow furrow.

"Yes mum, I'll come right away." You ended the call, rushing back into the living room standing a couple of metres away from the area where you had just been underneath Joe minutes before.

"I have to go, I'm so sorry, I'll text you though. Tonight's been amazing Joe. Thank you." Joe noticed the apprehension in your voice, tilting his head to the side in a worried manner.

"Everything ok?" He said in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, absolutely. Just need to get to my mums."

"I can take you if you-"

"No, it's fine. See you soon." You ran out the door with nothing but a blunt reply, slamming the door and rushing to the tube station to get to your mum's house. Luckily she didn't live far from Joe's so it made the journey all the more shorter.

Your phone had buzzed a couple of times upon your return home, it took you some time to look at it this time around, not being able to reply as quickly as you wanted too, your head full of stupid thoughts on what Joe could've been thinking about your quick exit.

Sitting on your bed, exhausted and with full intent to go to sleep, first you read through the messages.

Joe: I hope everything's ok? I hope I didn't take it too far. I know we have history and all that but I was really happy to see you again, even in that way... x

Joe: Let me know you're good. It's been a while and you haven't replied x

Joe: Y/N. Regardless of you not replying, just let me know when you're ready, if everything's ok at least, I'm worried about you x

You tapped your fingers fast, feeling quite apologetic in your reply.

You: I'm sorry I had to just leave like that. It wasn't you and I'm fine. Reality called and I had to answer it. There is one thing you really do need to know and if you're certain you want to be in my life, it now comes with a package deal... x

Your hesitation to press send almost made you want to vomit, now you were the one who was worried.

Joe: Package deal? What're you talking about... Of course I want to be in your life, friends or maybe more again someday, we can take things slow x

You: Come over tomorrow. I'll send you my address, please don't be scared but there's something you need to see x

Joe: I'll be there. I'm not scared of anything, I'd just be scared of losing you again. There's no worse feeling than that x

Tomorrow would come too soon, you were the one who was scared, scared of his reaction to what you needed to show him. Something that belonged to him, not the sweater of his you'd kept all of these years in the back of your wardrobe, something a lot more close to home. It was your own decision to bring this up too quickly, but he needed to know the truth as soon as possible.

Your phone buzzed and your hands shook in its grasp.

Joe: I'm on my way, I'll be 15 minutes if I don't hit traffic x

You: Ok x

You put your phone back on the kitchen counter top and bent with your elbows firmly pressed against it, rubbing your hands over your face and taking a huge inhale of oxygen, it was almost time.

You didn't hear it at the time when you were upstairs in the bathroom, but there was a knock at the front door. Behind it stood a slightly nerved Joe. The front door slowly opened and where your face should've been stood all he could see was through into your home. He double took when he looked down to see a little girl staring back at him.

"Hello are you mummy's friend?"

Joe's jaw dropped, his hands became clammy and his mouth filled with saliva, the type that you feel when you're about to throw up.

"I-I am. I'm Joe." You had literally gotten to the doorway and watched the love of your life meet the other love of your life, your eyes grew as wide as Joe's in that second and you felt paralyzed from head to toe.

"You can come in if you want" she said politely, totally oblivious and innocent to the tension between yourself and him. Joe couldn't take his eyes off of her, he was stunned, practically the last thing he could've imagined.

Your daughter ran over to you and you swooped her up in your arms, carefully watching Joe's every reaction. "Joe, I'd like you to meet my darling girl, Madison."

For the first time in his own life, he was speechless yet full of questions, not necessarily questions he could be asking in front of the little girl, but there was enough time for that.

You gave her a quick peck on the cheek and set her feet to the ground. "Why don't you go and watch some tv whilst I talk to my friend Mads?" She nodded and took a brief wave at Joe before skipping off to the living room.

You felt so close but yet so far away from him in this mere moment, waiting for his response; whether it be good or bad something had to come of it.

"So you had a baby?" Joe asked, his eyes firmly pressed to the ground.

"I did. She's amazing, the best thing in my life." You smiled sympathetically, you knew this was going to be a lot for him to take in.

"How old is she?"

"She's four going on fourteen. Sassy little madam at times."

It didn't take a genius to work out the timings, but Joe was still taken back and couldn't get the hint.

"She's definitely a cutie."

"Just like her dad." Joe glanced at you, his eyes filling with water, tears clung to his eye lids like his life depended on it.

"Wait what?" Joe whispered. You took his hand and lead him into the kitchen/dining area, sitting him down and making a drink of water for the both of you, god knows he needed it.

"Just shy of five years ago, we ended things for the last time Joe. We did what we did and then about a month later, I found out I was pregnant. She's yours Joe." He ran his fingers through his curls, his eyes boring into you like daggers.

"How do you know-"

"Can't you see it? She literally looks just like you. The eyes, the smile, the curls, her mannerisms. Everything about Madison is you. Whether you want to be a part of her life is up to you, we will tell her in good time, but please make the decision quickly because I don't want you to change your mind and break her heart like you did mine."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He looked like he was gasping for air. Your hands that were laid flat on your dining table were now clutched by his, a small part of his lips and a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"I was scared Joe. But fate brought me to you yesterday and you needed to know the truth even if it is four years too late."

"All this time, after all this time..." Joe sniffled, tears of your own now matched the ones staining his cheeks.

"So you will?"

"Of course I will. I've never wanted anything more. It's a god damn shock don't get me wrong, but a surprise of the best kind and quite the relief that she's mine." Joe snorted a shy laugh and you returned it.

"You'd be blind not to notice that she wasn't yours."

"Madison..."

"Quinn, I gave her your last name. It was only right, even if you weren't there through it all. You're still her father."

"Has she never questioned it?"

"I think she's a little young to notice right now, but in time she would have and I would of told her the truth. But all in good time now, just get to know her at your own pace, she's very forthcoming with people, she'll love you."

Joe gave your hands a reassuring squeeze and a swift nod, getting up from the table and taking a head start into the living room. You took a long gulp of your water and a sharp sigh, smiling to yourself at the positive vibe you got from him, that he was willing to step up, that he was able to go through with this even though it was a shock to his system, for now it gave you such hope.

You tiptoed to the doorway of the living room, setting your sights upon Joe and Madison sat on the floor in front of the tv, she was showing him her favourite teddy bear, one she'd had since she was born, telling Joe all about it's backstory and that she took it everywhere.

"You can hold it if you want" she passed the bear over to Joe and he put it on his lap, cross legged they both turned their attention to the tv screen.

"This is my favourite, mummy watches it with me all the time. Will you stay and watch it with me Joe?"

"Of course I will." Joe smiled, feeling the presence of you behind him, turning his head round to shoot a smile your way, the softest most purest smile you'd ever seen.

You mouthed at him a thank you with a sweet grin in return, wiping a tear from your eyes as Maddie reached for the blanket at the side of her, offering Joe the corner of the small sheet. He gladly took it, their shared mannerisms shining through, you shook your head when you watched them tilt their head to the side in unison as if it were some form of telepathy. She was definitely her father's daughter.

Nothing could be certain of where you and Joe would head in the next chapter of your lives, whether it be a good friendship, or something that would go further, but sticking to your guns and focusing on the present was the best idea and the view of it was perfect from where you were standing.

#joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x y/n

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