virgin!dex who tries his best not to ogle you in a bikini when you go to the beach the first time, but steals a few glances and goes embarrassingly hard.
virgin!dex who starts stuttering and shaking if you stand too close to him or even press into him, especially when you guys kiss. and if you tease him about it, he becomes flustered and blushes pretty.
virgin!dex who gets himself off at the photos of you that you send him and then if he sees you in the same outfit later he feels bad.
virgin!dex, whose hands hover over your body while making out because he has no idea where to put them.
virgin!dex who giggles nervously when you flirt with him. bonus points if you get suggestive, because he just sits there with the face like 𝘩𝘶𝘩?
virgin!dex who prepares for your first time like it's a mission. reads a ton of literature on female anatomy and watches video tutorials on what to do.
virgin!dex who fumbles with the buttons and the clothes in general when you finally get to the third base.
virgin!dex who gets all glossy-eyed when he finally sees you naked and you let him touch you, mumbling about how soft you are.
virgin!dex who wants to make you feel good and just take care of you, but happily lets you take the lead because he's so eager to be useful.
virgin!dex who kisses you all over because he can't get enough of the feeling of your skin under his lips. and maybe because he's a little bit scared to go to the next part.
virgin!dex who lasts about 15 seconds and then cries into your shoulder, holding onto you for dear life because he's so embarrassed and scared that you would leave him over this.
virgin!dex who whines when you let him eat you out and he's so eager he almost suffocates so you have to pull him by his hair to remind him to breathe.
virgin!dex who holds you so close to him you might fuse, going so slow it actually drives you insane.
virgin!dex who gives you a crygasm and then fusses over you because he's worried he hurt you, but you reassure him and he hugs you tighter, stroking your hair and your back.
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞. both brothers know you're a psychic. sam knows your fate is with dean, but what you don't know is that dean has always been overly in love with you.
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙. 1495
𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌. dean winchester x psychic!reader
𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊. friends to lovers, confession, psychic abilities
𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘. guys i deadass had this scheduled for 11pm uk time and it never posted???? the way i ran to my laptop to redo this post lol. anyways i had this thought on my way home from work earlier today. i hope u enjoy <3
The first thing you do is stop sitting in the front seat.
Dean doesn't say anything when you quietly climb into the back of the Impala instead, headphones already around your neck, but you catch the brief flick of confusion in the rear-view mirror before he starts the engine.
Then you stop stealing fries from his plate.
You stop lingering in the garage while he works on Baby. You stop falling asleep with your head resting against his shoulder during movie nights in the bunker.
None of it is obvious on its own. But he notices.
He always does.
By the end of the week, he can't take it anymore. "What'd I do?"
You're halfway through making a coffee when Dean appears in the bunker kitchen, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.
"What?"
"You heard me."
He shrugs one shoulder. "Did I say somethin' wrong? Have I upset you?"
"No."
"Cause you're avoiding me. You've been sitting in the back seat with Sam instead of the front with me."
"I just wanted a nap." You reply, and he huffs.
"You watched a movie with him instead of me."
Your heart pinches as you busy yourself with pouring coffee instead of looking at him. "It's nothing. Really."
He studies you for a long moment, clearly unconvinced. Eventually, he sighs through his nose and gives a small nod. "If you say so."
The sound of his footsteps echo down the steps and toward the garage a few moments later, and it leaves an uncomfortable weight settling in your chest.
it isn't personal. At least that's what you've told yourself every day since the vision you had.
Ever since that moment, you can't look at Dean without seeing flashes of a future you never asked for. His hand wrapped around yours. A wedding band glinting beneath the morning sun. Grey beginning to dust his hair as the two of you laugh over breakfast in a kitchen that somehow feels more like home than anywhere you've ever lived. It had been one of the clearest visions you'd ever experienced.
Your fate ends with Dean Winchester.
Whether you call it destiny, fate, or soulmates makes little difference. Because fate can show you where you're going.
It can't make someone love you.
The possibility has eaten away at you ever since. Maybe the vision had only shown your future. Maybe you were destined to spend your life loving someone who never returned those feelings. Your gift had never promised happy endings. It had only ever shown the truth.
So you do the only thing you know how to do.
You put distance between yourself and the man you're trying desperately not to love any more than you already do.
Two days later, Dean finds Sam buried beneath a mountain of lore books in the library and doesn't bother with subtlety. "Spill."
Sam doesn't even look up. "About?"
"You know exactly about what."
"I really don't."
Dean reaches across the table, plucking the book straight out of his brother's hands. "Sam."
His younger brother lets out an exaggerated sigh. "You promised you wouldn't do that."
"Do what?"
"The kicked puppy look."
Dean blinks innocently. "…Is it working?"
Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately."
"So?"
For a moment, Sam says nothing. He debates keeping your confidence, but one glance at Dean's increasingly miserable expression is enough to change his mind. "She had a vision."
Dean's teasing expression disappears instantly. "Is she okay?"
"She's fine."
"What kind of vision?"
Sam hesitates. "It was about you."
Dean waits.
"And her."
"…Okay."
Another pause stretches between them before Sam finally closes the book and folds his hands together. "She saw her future."
Dean frowns. "So?"
Sam exhales slowly. "It ends with you."
Dean simply stares. "…Seriously?"
Sam nods once. "She thinks that's why she's been avoiding you."
Dean says nothing for a second. Then he lets out a relieved laugh Sam has heard in weeks. "She thinks that's a bad thing?"
"She doesn't think you feel the same."
Dean stares at him as though the words make absolutely no sense. Then he drags both hands down his face. "Oh," he groans, already pushing himself away from the table. "You've gotta be kidding me."
You only come in to the garage for the toolbox.
You'd timed it perfectly--or so you thought. Dean had been outside washing Baby less than ten minutes ago. Long enough, you assumed, for him to still be busy.
Instead, the moment you step inside, the heavy garage door rumbles shut behind you.
You turn just in time to find Dean leaning casually against the Impala, drying his hands on an old shop rag. The look on his face is enough to make your stomach sink.
He's smiling.
"What?" You ask cautiously. Dean folds the rag into his back pocket and shrugs. "So…"
"So?"
"I hear you've been seeing the future."
You close your eyes for one second. "…Sam."
"He cracks under pressure." Dean laughs cheekily, and you huff.
"I'm going to kill him."
Dean pushes himself away from Baby. "Nah," he glances up at you, "you should probably thank him."
Heat creeps steadily into your cheeks as you reach for the toolbox sitting on the workbench, hoping that if you keep yourself busy, the conversation will somehow disappear.
"I cannot believe he told you."
"Oh, he told me, alright."
You groan, rubbing a hand over your face. "I'm never trusting him with anything ever again."
"I gotta admit," Dean watches you for a moment before another grin spreads across his face. "I'm a little offended."
You blink. "Offended?"
He nods. "Here I am finding out the universe finally does something nice for me, and you react by pretending I don't exist."
"It's not like that."
"No?"
"No."
"Really?" He gestures vaguely toward the bunker beyond the garage. "Because from where I'm standing, you've spent the last week acting like I stink."
"I have not." Despite everything, a laugh slips free. "You shouldn't joke about it."
Dean's grin softens. "Why not?"
"Because…" You look down at the concrete floor, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. "Because it doesn't mean anything."
Silence settles over the garage.
When you finally risk looking up, the teasing expression has vanished completely.
Dean is simply watching you with a saddened expression.
"I don't know…" He huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Maybe that the guy who's been looking at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened to him isn't exactly subtle."
You stare.
"…What?"
Dean runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking far less confident than he had a moment ago.
"I thought you knew."
"Knew what?"
"I thought…" He laughs once under his breath. "Hell, sweetheart, I thought you were psychic."
You can't help the confused look that crosses your face.
"I am."
"Yeah?"
He takes a slow step towards you.
"'Cause I've been hopelessly in love with you for years, and somehow you completely missed that."
The world seems to stop.
"I…"
"You really didn't know."
It's not a question.
You shake your head.
"I thought…" Your voice catches. "I thought maybe the vision was only showing what I wanted."
Dean's expression crumples. "Oh." He reaches you without either of you noticing the distance disappearing between you. "So that's why."
You nod.
"I couldn't stand the thought of spending every day wondering whether you actually wanted me there… or whether I was just some future you were supposed to end up with."
Dean's hand finds yours. Calloused and warm.
"I don't give a damn what fate says." His thumb brushes gently across your knuckles. "If I'd never heard about that vision…"
He intertwines your fingers with his.
"…I'd still wake up every morning hoping today would finally be the day I worked up the guts to tell you."
A tear slips down your cheek before you even realise you're crying.
Dean smiles softly as he brushes it away. "You wanna know the truth?"
You nod.
"I've loved you through hunts, motel rooms, crappy diner coffee, and every single movie night where you fell asleep on my shoulder."
A small smile finds your lips. "I wasn't asleep every time."
Dean chuckles. "I know."
"You knew?"
"You smile differently when you're pretending."
You let out a watery laugh. "So all those times…"
"I was trying real hard not to kiss you."
Your eyes widen. "Dean…"
"I figured if you wanted this…" He shrugs one shoulder. "You'd tell me."
"I thought the exact same thing."
"Well." He smiles.
"We're idiots." You laugh through your tears.
Dean searches your face for a long moment before leaning in, giving you every opportunity to pull away.
You don't.
His lips meet yours slowly, gently, like he's spent years imagining what this would feel like and still can't quite believe it's real.
When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his smile warm enough to make your heart ache.
want to support me? find my ko-fi here
credit for the dividers: @strangergraphics & @dividers-are-us
here & here
mike decided he wants eyeliner with his costume, but he’s never put it on before. you offer some help, but it puts the boy (and you) in shambles for the rest of the night.
or,
mike wheeler is head over heels for his best friend. and so are you.
mike wheeler x fem!reader
word count: 13.2k (i'm sorry but trust it's worth it!)
a/n: yayyyy she's here!! hope you like!!!
read part two here!
tags: a lil suggestive at the end; read at your own discretion!, best friends to lovers, holy crap they are in love, oblivious mutual pining, they overthink everything, au cause yes, puppy dog eyes mike, guyliner (duh), mike is SMITTEN (so is reader), some pov switching but mainly mike-centric, yearning, underage drinking, mentions of gagging, songfic if you squint, mike is taller than reader, halloween party, fake blood, confessions of love, kissing, making out, cursing, Tension
The curse that escaped Mike Wheeler’s mouth hadn’t been one of pain–though it would surely appear that way if you had no context for the situation and took a glance in his direction.
He had been in the bathroom for about five minutes now, busying himself with a container of a red liquid he had bought with you at the discount store just hours ago. Fake blood. Unfortunately for Mike, the price of the liquid was showing, and before he knew it, he and the basement bathroom looked like they had encountered an actual vampire attack.
“My mom is gonna kill me,” Mike muttered almost absent-mindedly, groaning while glancing down at the sink that was now covered in a red stain he knew was unlikely to move, no matter how hard someone scrubbed it.
“Like she ever comes down here anyway,” you murmured back, a smirk evident in your voice. His head turned in your direction, observing your sitting form through the gap in the door and watching as you stared into the pocket mirror in your hands. You were applying something to your face, some kind of makeup Mike didn’t know the name for. You seemed careful as you brushed the product on, hand moving with a delicate precision that looked almost professional. At least to Mike.
“There’s red, like, everywhere,” he groaned again, his eyes lingering on you for a few more seconds before moving back to the disaster in front of him.
He hadn’t really thought it through when he started putting the blood on. When he had decided a week ago that he was going to tonight’s party as a vampire, he knew fake blood was needed to sell the look. Plus, if it looked good and he did it right, then maybe, just maybe, you might like it. Stubbornly, he didn’t ask for help, and now his hands and bathroom porcelain were suffering the consequences.
He had stupidly, he thinks now, not used a cotton swab or something to apply the cheap formula, thinking his fingers would do the job just fine. Clearly, he had been wrong.
He turned the faucet, sighing as he hopelessly rubbed soap onto his palms before putting them into the sink, watching as the dye slowly seeped out of his skin. He knew there would be some kind of stain whenever you two left the house, but for now, he was just thankful the red was even coming out.
“I’m sure it’s not everywhere,” you mused, voice cadencing through the noise of running water and breaking Mike from his trance. “Where did you apply it? The walls?”
“Ha-ha,” Mike rolled his eyes at your terrible yet endearing joke, not able to force his smile down after hearing it. “I put it on my mouth and chin, and some of my neck. I don’t know. Just whatever looked right. But it’s runny as hell.” He huffed out another sigh, reaching for the soap once again to scrub at his hands a second time.
“Well, it was extremely cheap,” you said, a small giggle following your words that made Mike’s heart speed up. He shifted just slightly, angling his head once again to watch you, only to see that you had put your mirror on the coffee table in front of you. “Let me come see.”
The boy felt his heart leap once again as you stood, smoothing out your costume that of course looked amazing on you. Clad in a light blue top and purple skirt (or maybe it was pink? Mike couldn’t tell), both of which had come from your closet, it was easy to see that you were dressed as a mermaid. It was only more obvious now as you approached, the addition of glitter and various colors around your eyes making the costume pop even more. Mike swallowed the lump in his throat, cursing himself for getting caught up. Why were you walking towards him again?
You pushed the door to the bathroom, opening the space a little more as you entered. Mike held his breath as he watched your eyes travel over him, taking in his fake-blood handiwork. His heart was already sinking, expecting you to laugh or say it didn’t look realistic enough or just straight up say he looked like shit–
“I like it,” you hummed, your voice soft. “It looks good, Mike.”
So this was how he was going to die. He was certain now that you were actually a siren, your voice so sweet that he was ready to follow you wherever you led him. And the way you said his name. He would dive into the ocean for you right then. He could hear how genuine you were being, though, and knew you wouldn’t just say that to make him feel better. You meant it, and that thought set his body on fire.
“You think so?” His voice was weak, but he barely had time to dwell on it before you were reaching over him, your form next to his as you grabbed a hand towel that had been sitting on the edge of the sink.
“Of course I do,” you smiled, glancing into his eyes for a moment before your attention turned to the reddened sink. You placed the towel you hand just grabbed under the flowing water for just a moment, and Mike thought he might fall over when your hand just barely brushed over his. He watched silently as you started to scrub at the dried red liquid that was now stuck to the sink, desperately fighting to catch his breath from the comment you had made just moments ago.
Mike wasn’t sure when he had become like this with you. Your friendship came naturally, and the two of you had been attached at the hip since you were in elementary school. He supposes that’s how the overwhelming love he felt for you had come to be–naturally. It hid in the cracks of your friendship for years, starting to take shape back in middle school when Mike was still able to ignore the stutter in his breath every time you laughed at something. By the time you were in high school, his feelings had increased tenfold, and now every day, Mike found himself working overtime to keep his thoughts at bay. Not to mention that the rest of the Party had been out for his throat once they discovered his emotions for you.
But tonight, on Halloween, of all nights, it was the most overwhelming it’d ever been. Maybe it was you in your costume–and god, you just looked so, so pretty anyway–or maybe the fact that the two of you were alone in his basement, but still standing right next to each other, as if all of the space in the world couldn’t separate the two of you. It was probably a number of things, Mike reasoned, and the fact that he couldn’t pinpoint it comforted him and simultaneously stressed him out beyond belief.
He loved you so much. Too much, even. But he couldn’t stop, nor did he want to. He was a mess, and Mike figured that even if you might be the cause for his turmoil, you were ultimately the cure.
“You just gonna hold your hands under the water forever?” Your voice, once again, broke him out of his trance and he lifted his head, a smirk rising on his lips that mirrored yours. He shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes, rubbing his hands together in one last attempt to get the dye out. He wasn’t really worried about it anymore, not since you had walked into the bathroom.
“Happy now?” Mike grinned, one hand grabbing the other towel from the counter and drying his hands.
“Yes,” you nodded, an airy laugh leaving you. “I am.” Your smile was infectious, and he was willing as ever to catch its disease, not once letting his eyes drift from your face as he wiped off his hands. You were still focused on the sink, and something about seeing you helping with a mess he had made without even asking made his heart leap for the hundredth time that night. Get it together.
Mike’s gaze shifted to the mirror in front of the two of you, resisting the urge to let his eyes immediately return to your frame as he studied himself. Damn, he looked crazy. Mike had splayed the fake blood down his chin and onto his neck, reasoning that a hungry vampire wouldn’t care about where it went. A little bit of surprise filled him as he noticed little dribble marks running all the way to his collarbone, suddenly thankful for the runny formula. Mike had to admit it–he looked good. He silently hoped that was what you had meant earlier, though he knew you were probably just praising the way the blood looked.
Mike eyed himself for a few more moments, comfortable silence filling the space around the two of you. The longer he gazed at himself, despite his earlier thoughts, the more he felt like something was missing. Yes, his costume wasn’t completely on–he still had a leather jacket to put on–but he knew it was more than that.
He squinted at the mirror, focusing on his face before quickly turning his head to glance at you. His eyes traced the colorful lines and smudges that framed your eyes, some sort of intrigue rising in his mind the longer he looked down at you. When your head turned and your eyes met his, he quickly turned back to the mirror, red flush creeping up on his neck as he tried (and failed) to act like he hadn’t just been staring dead at you.
“Is something wrong?” You asked, your voice sweet as if you hadn’t just caught him red-handed. You knew, you were just choosing to not bring it up.
“Um– I just…well…” Mike tried, observing himself in the mirror as he listened to his heart pound in his ears. He took a long breath, pushing through his embarrassment as he let his eyes fall back to you.
“It feels like it’s missing something,” He shrugged, his eyes once again drifting over your face and lingering on your eye makeup, something inside him slowly clicking as he stared down at you. Your head titled, your eyes now moving over Mike’s face and he silently prayed that the blush from a few moments ago was no longer visible. You inched just slightly closer, and Mike swore you were teasing him in that moment as a soft hum left you. He was done for.
“I think I know what it is,” you grinned, pulling away while setting your towel on the counter. Your eyes never left his as you spoke: “Have you ever heard of eyeliner?”
How you read his mind like that, he had absolutely no clue. He didn’t question it, a shy smile rising on his lips as he shook his head. Your grin only grew wider as you mumbled a small ‘hold on’ and exited the bathroom. Mike took a deep breath for what felt like the first time the entire night, his heart getting a moment of respite before immediately picking up in pace again as you re-entered the bathroom.
“Okay. Eyeliner is exactly what it sounds like. I think it will pull together the whole grungy vibe you want,” you explained quickly, glancing down at the objects you had returned with as you stood in front of him. Mike raised a brow, not quite sure why this process required a pencil but too excited to ask.
“Since when were vampires described with the word ‘grungy?’” He groaned playfully, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Since someone decided that vampires wear Converse,” you smirked, your eyes doing a one-over of Mike’s form. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t fall onto the floor after that. He swallowed, forcing a smirk on his lips and shaking his head.
“I’m a modern vampire, thank you very much. They are immortal, after all,” Mike mused back, and God, he really was bad at flirting. Luckily for him, you must’ve thought it was funny and let out a soft laugh. Or maybe you were laughing at him.
“Well, do you want to do it? Or– well,” you spoke up, your voice going soft and your eyes leaving him for a moment. “Do you want me to do it? I promise it will look good.”
God, yes, he wanted to say. Please. I don’t care. Do whatever. I’m yours. He pushed down the sudden surge of thoughts in his head, a small smile on his face as he spoke again.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Mike breathed out, adoring the way your entire face immediately lit up at his words. You ushered him to sit on the toilet seat, your frame now over his as he desperately how nervous he was. His leg began to bounce and he cursed himself, his hand reaching for his knee almost instinctively to stop the movement.
“Okay. Just sit still. I’m not gonna stab your eye,” you giggled softly, inching closer and lifting up the eyeliner pencil to let him see.
“Promise?” Mike grinned, beaming up at you and gripping his knee tighter, already having to fight the nerves from how close you were.
“Promise,” you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips as you moved closer again, your legs just barely in between his own as you readied yourself. He kept his eyes on your face, watching how focused you were, and–
Oh. You were close. Reallllyyyy close. Mike felt his breath catch in his throat as your hand moved to his face, nearly grazing his skin with your own. He panicked the second the pencil edged at his face, flinching out of the way as his eye squinted in an almost natural response. Your eyes flicked over him curiously and he cursed at himself, swearing he wouldn’t do it again, but you stepped even closer and he moved again when your breath ran across his face. You groaned.
“Miiike,” you sighed, a laugh falling off of your lips as you pulled the pencil away. Mike’s heart was thumping against his chest, body so hot he thought he might explode. He was sure his face was just as red as the blood he had smeared across it.
“Sorry,” he murmured, his voice wavering and embarrassment flooding his chest. “I’m– nervous, I think.” A knowing smile then appeared on your face, and Mike felt like melting from how soft your voice sounded.
“I get it,” you nodded, softly sighing as you looked down at him with sweet, sweet eyes. You were so pretty like this, and it only made Mike more nervous to have you so close.
“I think you need to close your eyes. Breathe. Just relax,” you offered, head tilting down as you gave him another one-over. Of course it was easy for you to say that, he thought, it’s not like you could understand why he was nervous.
If only Mike could understand that you were silently going through the same thing, absolutely reeling at the fact that you were able to be so close to him and not even sure how Mike wasn’t seeing how shaky you were.
Mike sighed, letting out a soft ‘okay’ and shutting his eyes. He wanted this, and trusted that you wouldn’t hurt him even with how bad his feelings were acting up.
You took a breath, readjusting your hand and stepping closer, knees hitting the edge of the toilet seat and sending a chill through your body. You stared at Mike for a few moments, eyes flitting over his face and heart stuttering in your chest at the sight. He was so handsome and so close. You were absolutely done for.
You tentatively reached up with your non-dominant hand, fingers lightly brushing his bangs out of the way and biting your lip before you spoke up.
“I need to– uh,” Your voice was quiet, so gentle that Mike almost thought that you were nervous, and before he could dwell on it any longer, the warmth of your hand pressed softly into his cheek. Ohmygod. His heart pounded, head swirling with so many emotions that he nearly forgot to breathe.
“Is this okay?” You asked, and Mike nodded quickly, the word ‘yes’ lodged in his throat. At that, your hand pushed more firmly on his skin, slightly tilting his head upwards. Your breath was back to skimming over his face, your presence just inches away from his. God, he wanted to open his eyes so bad.
He stayed as still as he could as he felt the pencil run over his eyelid, fighting to keep his body upright each time he felt you move closer to him. At this point, he was certain that if he leaned forward and up just a few inches–barely even moving at all–the already tiny gap between the two of you would close and your lips would meet. And he knew he probably shouldn’t be thinking like that, but he couldn’t help it, not when you were so close, not when you were right there. He was losing it, his heart flying at an impossible speed and his head dizzy with thoughts of you.
Mike had to hold back a gasp when he felt your thumb move up, carefully running it over his eyelid and smudging the eyeliner you had just applied. You were so close that he could feel the heat of your body in front of him, seeping into his skin as you held him close. He was tempted to reach up with his own hand and cover yours, telling you to never let go. He could stay like this forever.
You switched sides, hand still on Mike’s face as you repeated whatever you had done on his other eye. You were just as close, if not closer, your breath ghosting over his face in a way that made Mike shiver. He didn’t know how he hadn’t died at this point, his mind and body so overwhelmed that he thought he might have a heart attack right there.
Mike sat still for a few more moments, breathing deeply as he relaxed into the soft touch of your skin against his. Eventually, your movements came to a slow and he felt you lean back, the warmth that had filled the small gap between you two dissipating just slightly. Mike’s heart ached a little bit at that, missing the closeness you had just shared.
You studied Mike carefully, glancing back and forth between his closed eyes to make sure the eyeliner looked even. Your hand hadn’t left his face yet, cherishing the feeling of your skin over his as you fought the thoughts in your head that were screaming at you to let go. This is selfish, you thought, just sitting here and staring because I can, because he can’t see. But damn it, you couldn’t look away.
The word ‘open’ left your lips before you realized it, and suddenly Mike’s eyes were locked on yours. Oh God. Your heart palpitated in your chest, his soft brown eyes staring up at you with an eased expression that made you want to melt into the floor. And the eyeliner. Lord, the eyeliner. You could’ve melted with how good it looked on him, and how natural it felt to see it on him. It wasn’t even that heavy, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel something more than you normally did when you looked at his face. Please never take it off, you thought, the words gnawing at your teeth and begging to be let out. For how long you had been crushing on Mike (and slowly but surely falling in love with him), this was the most attractive he had ever been to you. You were sure that middle school you would’ve had a heart attack at the sight of him like this. God, you were losing it.
You knew your cheeks were probably as red as the fake blood on his face, but you weren’t really thinking about that with how transfixed you were on his eyes. You were both still extremely close, closer than you had remembered, tension thick in the air around you the longer you kept your gaze on him. Your eyes, betraying every bone in your body, dropped to his lips without thinking and snapped back up as soon as you had realized what you had done. Ohgodohgodohgod.
All of your breath left your lungs and you both quickly separated, with you taking a step backward and Mike leaning away from you. Your hand released from his face, fingers tingling as the warmth of his skin lingered against yours. You should’ve leaned in when you had the chance, should’ve said screw it and let out every word that you had locked in your heart for years. Your heart was aching for him already, a perfect moment ripped out of your hands because of something stupid. Why was it always like that?
Mike’s body was on fire. What had just happened? He had opened his eyes, and you were there, right there, eyes wide and staring at him like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. And for a moment, just a split second, Mike swore your eyes had dropped to his lips. But of course, like normal, he chickened out and pulled away the second he felt himself getting a little too comfortable. He wanted to scream with how mad he was at himself. He felt like a damn idiot and now his chest was hurting, longing for your hand back on his face and for your warmth to completely envelop his body.
Mike quickly stood up and cleared his throat, keeping his eyes averted from you as he moved to stand in front of the mirror. You were still beside him, head down and completely silent as he looked at the work you had done.
“Wow,” he muttered, his voice breathless. A smile crept back onto his face as his eyes traced the delicate lines and smudges you had drawn on him, his heart panging at the clear care you had put into your work. He forced his breath to remain steady, his words clearly strained but no less genuine. “This is like, really good.”
With that, your head finally lifted, eyes moving back to Mike and off the floor. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you looked at him, watching as he leaned close to the mirror to get a better look. Your heart leapt again at the sight of his eyeliner, and you swallowed a breathy sigh. “You like it?” you asked, your voice gentle and forcibly steady.
“Is that even a question?” Mike grinned, turning to your direction and shifting away from the mirror. “I think it’d be harder for me to not like it.” Or you, for that matter.
To his dismay, you only smiled, not saying a word as your gaze fell back onto the floor. Shit, did he do something wrong? Crap, did you know? He was starting to think that you had realized his feelings for you when you were close just moments ago; you must’ve felt his breath hitch or his cheeks get warm as you held him in front of you. And while he knew it probably wasn’t that, he still convinced himself that it was, and immediately wanted to dig a hole into the ground and never look back. God, he was so embarrassed!
Mike swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, trying to distract himself from the nagging thought in his head that you now knew every one of his secrets and felt bad for him, all because you didn’t like him back. He imagined that you were already thinking of ways to ditch him, to leave behind your years of friendship because you didn’t reciprocate. Tonight was sure to be hell, and it hadn’t even really started.
A clear of your throat startled him back to life, his body nearly flinching as he re-focused his eyes. He groaned internally, praying a sinkhole would open up and put an end to his misery.
“You okay?” You asked, your head tilting a little to the side. Your voice had a familiar teasing lilt to it, and it made a small bit of relief fill Mike’s aching chest. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Yeah, just, um–” He cleared his throat, praying it would rid his voice of its initial breathiness. “Thinking. Deep thoughts.”
Just kill me now.
You smirked and raised an eyebrow, clearly curious but not questioning it as you shook your head and began to walk out of the bathroom.
“Well, hopefully the drive is enough to ease your mind, Dracula,” you teased and shot him a glance, and Mike wanted to collapse right there. “We’re leaving in five. You know Dustin will be mad if we show up late.” Mike forced out a laugh at that, hands gripping the sink for support in case his knees gave out beneath him.
Okay, so maybe you didn’t know. But then why did you react like that when he was talking? Maybe you thought he was lying about the makeup? His mind surged with the possibilities of your thoughts and he pushed every one of them down, trying to resist the urge to overthink it more than he already had. He was a mess.
Five minutes blurred into one as the two of you made final touch-ups to your costumes, anticipation building in your stomachs for what was to come. You were still silently recovering from your slip-up earlier, and trying to move on from that situation entirely. You were sure he had noticed it with how awkward he was being, but you knew better enough to not question it just in case he hadn’t at all.
Before you knew it, the two of you were in your car, Mike thumbing through your cassette collection in the passenger’s seat as you drove to the house you were to be at.
“So, where’s the good music supposed to be? Do you have a box in the back with more or something?” He teased, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as if he didn’t like half of the stuff you listened to.
“Ha-ha. Good one, Wheeler. Where are your jokes supposed to be?” You sighed, your voice a straight tone as you glanced at him for a moment, fighting back a smile from rising to your lips.
“Okay, c’mon, it was funny. But seriously, where’s that mixtape I made? I thought you said you loved it,” He spoke again, his lips forming into an exaggerated pout, though you knew he was being serious from the way his voice wavered at the end of his sentence.
“Oh, it’s already in the player. I rarely take it out,” you smiled gently, holding back a laugh at the open-mouthed shock on Mike’s face. You stole another quick glance at him now that he had turned to face you, unable to resist the pull that his eyes had set on you.
“Why didn’t you just say that?” He screamed at you, a grin rising to his lips as his finger shot to hit the play button on your console. Your shared laughter filled the car as the sound of Tears For Fears rang in the background, Everybody Wants To Rule The World hitting your ears and giving you the boost of happiness you needed to get through the night. You and Mike began to scream-sing the lyrics together, a fluttery feeling filling your heart at the sweetness of it all.
Mike had made the mixtape for your eighteenth birthday, commemorating your years of being best friends and saying you needed something to remember him by if you guys separated for college. Like you could ever forget him.
Mike wishes he could say the mixtape hadn’t been an attempt at a romantic gesture, because it had definitely appeared that way once he glanced at the tracklist he had prepared. It wasn’t like he intended on choosing mostly romantic songs, they just all reminded him of you. The mixtape had been his way of confessing his love without actually saying it, and the fact that you apparently didn’t often take it out of your cassette player made his heart leap with indescribable joy.
The drive continued for just a little longer, you and Mike still singing together with each song that played until you reached your destination. The house was already booming, people flowing in and out as you found a spot to park your car. The Sun had already faded out of the sky and hoards of children were roaming the streets, eager for any piece of candy they could get their hands on.
You turned and pulled the car key out of the ignition, both you and Mike quietly relaxing in your seats and taking in the last few moments of silence you would have for the night. Mike had spotted the rest of the Party as you were parking the car, and could see them walking in your direction in the side-view mirror. His heart panged with sadness, knowing the two of you wouldn’t be alone again until you drove him home later. He held in his sigh.
“Ready?” You asked, turning to Mike with a grin as your hand reached for the door handle. He nodded, and just as he was about to open his own door, you spoke again.
“Wait, one more thing,” you said, your eyes still on him. His heart began to speed up, a thousand ideas of what you might have to say filling his mind and making him regret agreeing to be here in the first place. He hadn’t even really wanted to go anyway, not until you did.
“Um, just…undo the first few buttons of your top,” you spoke, eyes flicking down his frame and back up. A grin was still on your face, and Mike nearly lost it at what you said next. “It’ll look better, trust me.”
He couldn’t even ask if he heard you right because a second later, you were already out of the car and chatting with Max and Jane as they approached you. He stared at you through the window, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as he tried to gather his thoughts. Dustin saved him by knocking aggressively against the passenger-side window, looking expectantly at Mike and wordlessly urging him out of the car.
Mike quickly opened the door, awkwardly stepping out and zoning out of whatever Dustin was rambling to him about as his eyes trained to you. He nodded along mindlessly, fingers working with the buttons of his top and letting them go loose like you had said to. Dustin was quick to clock that Mike was indeed not paying attention, his eyes rolling as he jabbed the taller boy’s arm with his shoulder.
“Ow, dude, what the hell–”
“Are you just here to make puppy-dog eyes all night or are you gonna have real fun?” Dustin sighed, shaking his head as they moved up the sidewalk.
“What? That’s– I don’t make puppy-dog eyes,” Mike protested, but was quickly cut off by the rest of the group.
“You totally do,” Lucas said, a knowing grin on his face.
“Yeah, you look helpless,” Will teased, earning laughs from the other two boys as Mike let out an irritated sigh.
“I am not–”
“Save it. Lying is a sin, Michael,” Dustin grinned up at Mike, bumping into his side as they walked.
“And what’s that little window about, huh?” Lucas pointed to the skin of Mike’s chest that was now visible, making the already red boy somehow become even redder. “And eyeliner? Adventurous this Halloween, I see.”
“I’ll have you all know that these,” Mike waved a hand in front of his face and chest, voice irritated, “were her suggestions. She said it would make my costume better.”
“Her?” Will spoke, the smile on his face evident in his voice. “We didn’t say anyone’s name.”
“Guyyysss,” Mike groaned dramatically, putting his hands on his face. “Can we not tonight? Getting ready was hell enough, I don’t need you to join in on that train.”
“What happened when you were–” Dustin started, but was cut off by a shout from Max, who, by the look on her face, knew exactly what they had been talking about.
“Can you guys stop arguing or whatever?” The girl groaned, making you and Jane turn to each other and giggle. When you weren’t looking, the redhead raised a brow at Mike, giving him a look that said get it together before I do for you, and then turned to the other direction. “We have more pressing matters.”
Max was right; they had made it to the house and Mike could already hear the music that was booming inside from across the lawn. Mike was silent as they walked through the grass and eventually stepped foot into the house, taking everything in.
The first thing he noticed was the heat. The entrance was already stuffy, and Mike was sure it was only going to get worse the further they traveled into the house. It was so, so loud, so much so that he couldn’t hear what Dustin was saying despite the fact that he was standing right next to him. It reeked of alcohol and teenage hormones, and Mike was in the process of gagging when he felt a hand press onto his arm.
He blinked and met your eyes, his breath catching at how close you were. When did you get there?
“You okay?” You leaned up to his ear and spoke as loud as you could without breaking into a yell. The concern in your voice was clear, and Mike’s heart started running once again at the care you were displaying.
“Just overwhelmed,” He said, leaning down to your ear and watching as you nodded in response. You looked like you were about to say something when a new hand grabbed onto his other arm, making his head snap in the other direction.
“C’mon, we’re not just standing around the whole night!” Lucas shouted, already pulling Mike away before he could ask any questions. You grinned at the brown-haired boy, who shook his head wordlessly as his friend dragged him off.
As soon as he rounded the corner and you were out of sight, Mike let out a groan in Lucas’s direction. Lucas only shook his head, a grin plastered to his face that cut off any retaliation Mike was about to let out.
The house was a sea of teenagers, each and every corner occupied, and it was by no means a small home. Mike didn’t even know that there were this many teenagers in Hawkins, and he was confused on why anyone would let this many people into their house. Mike had never really understood the appeal of parties anyway, so attending this one had been the biggest culture-shock he’d ever experienced.
Lucas stopped when they entered the kitchen, the island in the center covered with various bottles and drinks that Mike had never heard of. His mind was a whirl, confused but nonetheless curious to see what this was all about.
Dustin had found something from the mass of liquids and had already poured it into four different plastic cups, and was looking at the other boys with an overly excited grin.
“Gentlemen, a toast,” He said fancily, grabbing one of the cups and waiting for the others to follow suit. Mike hesitantly picked one up, holding it up to his eye to try and see what was inside. It was no use, as the entire house was lit by colorful LEDs that changed every three seconds and made it impossible to see anything clearly.
“To Mike’s first–”
“Last,” Mike interrupted Dustin, rolling his eyes as he mentally prepared for whatever terrible taste was about to enter his mouth.
“Whatever. To the teenage experience!” Dustin shouted, raising the red cup to the middle of the little circle they had formed. The other boys did the same, cheering while Mike stared at the cup like it had just said it knew his deepest secret.
Mike pulled his cup to his mouth, tilting back and trying to swallow the liquid quickly enough to not choke but to also not absorb the taste. Unfortunately, he failed at the latter. The sting of tequila filled Mike’s throat along with its pungent taste, causing him to immediately gag from pain and toss the cup carelessly onto the floor. He decided at that moment that he was not going to drink for the rest of the night, no matter how much he wanted to. The teenage experience could suck it.
He grabbed another cup, ignoring the teasing of the friends as he went to the sink and filled the plastic with water. He took a long sip, sighing as the sting in his throat began to dissipate. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on something other than the loudness of the house or the mugginess that existed in every room. He couldn’t wait to leave, especially since he knew you’d be leaving with him. Was it bad of him to say he missed you already?
“You’re in for a long night, Wheeler,” Max’s voice rang through his ear, causing his eyes to snap open. He immediately rolled his eyes and took another sip of his water, shaking his head as he zoned back into the situation. Max, seeming to know what was in his cup, raised her eyebrow and smirked. Mike braced himself for the tease he knew was coming.
“Worried you’ll slip up in front of your girl if you drink?” She mused, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning closer purposefully. Mike’s jaw fell slack with embarrassment, cheeks turning red as his head turned in her direction.
“She isn’t my–” He started, but the words left him when he saw you and Jane enter the kitchen from behind Max’s shoulder. He straightened his posture and cleared his throat out of habit, to which the ginger girl rolled her eyes. He really was never going to hear the end of this.
“Hey, Dracula. Figured they’d dragged you here,” You giggled, eyes flicking to the cup in his hand as you tilted your head. “Already getting a start, I see.”
“It’s–”
“Water,” Jane and Max said in unison, giggling like they had just told the greatest joke of all time. Sometimes it irritated Mike how well his friends knew him. You laughed along with them, shaking your head and taking a step closer to him. He stiffened again, the proximity reminding him of what had happened in his basement not that long ago. He felt bad for his heart, which was probably on its last leg after running at what felt like a thousand miles an hour for the entire night.
“Anyways,” you pivoted the conversation, to Mike’s relief, “do you wanna dance? Get out of this kitchen you have no point standing in?” You laughed, and Mike’s knees nearly gave way at the sound. With a quick glance to Max and Jane, he could see them looking at him with intense stares that told him he needed to choose his next words carefully. He sighed, forcing himself to relax and move past the rapid beating of his heart as he spoke to you.
“Yeah, I’d like that. Y’know, moving from one cesspool of teenagers to the next,” He joked and his spirit soared when you giggled, shaking your head and looking up at him with bright eyes. He was never going to get over how pretty you looked, even when you were doing things as simple as laughing.
Any words or thoughts Mike had quickly died within a second as he felt your hand slip into his, yelling ‘come on!’ and turning to pull him into the crowd. His heart was pounding in his ears, now louder than the music that drummed against the walls of the house, sending waves of nervousness all through his body. How he was going to dance without looking like a stiff board, he wasn’t really sure, but right now, he was just stuck on the fact that you had voluntarily held his hand.
You eventually were able to find a spot just spacious enough for the two of you in the crowded living room, lights flashing brighter and the music louder than it had been since you stepped foot in the house. People swarmed the small space, each and every movement of even one person subtly pushing you and Mike closer together. Thriller, of course, was playing, though you could barely hear it over the slurred out lyrics of the teens around you.
You and Mike shared a look, silently communicating in the midst of the chaos, and then let out full laughs at the absurdity of it all. Your hand had slipped out of Mike’s, to his dismay, and was starting to sway unconsciously at your side as the song continued to fill the room around you. Mike shook his head and laughed again as the two of you started to sway to the beat, smiling at each other like little kids.
It was almost a miracle how neither of you noticed the feelings you both clearly held for each other. Seriously, it would have been harder to not see it. The Party noticed as early as freshman year how obvious you both were, and were sick of both of you for constantly dancing around your emotions.
Michael Jackson’s voice eventually began to fade out and everyone in the room slowed, seeming eager to hear whatever was going to be blasted into their ears. You seemed to catch onto the next song before anyone else, letting out a loud gasp at the transition into the new beat. A wide grin stretched over your lips as you turned to Mike, leaning up so he could hear you.
“I love this song!” You shouted, though the brown-haired boy could still barely hear you over the sound of the music. He leaned down just a little more, raising a brow with a smile as he looked at you.
“What is it?” He screamed back.
“It’s called Everything She Wants!” You grinned even further, and Mike felt his heart fluttering as he noticed how close you had to get just to speak with each other. “I think you’ll like it.”
Mike wasn’t sure if he actually did like it or not, because as soon as you started dancing, everything became fuzzy.
You were right in front of him, smiling the entire time as your body moved with the rhythm of the song and even mouthing some of the lyrics. His body didn’t take long to follow yours, rocking back and forth with his eyes glued to you as the sweet sound of Wham! cut through your ears.
Words and melodies swam together in Mike’s head as you stared back up at him, your soft eyes pulling him forward without even trying. You both gradually shifted to each other, all while you danced along to the music that was slowly turning into white noise in your ears. Mike wanted you closer, the urge to place a hand on your waist and pull you in stronger than anything he’d ever felt. You looked so good like this, all carefree and relaxed like it was natural for you two to be like this. Mike was positive that he looked like an idiot, and dare he say it, a lost puppy staring at you like you were the only thing he’d ever known. He was so nervous, his body buzzing as he tried desperately to appear normal while you danced to the music.
You couldn’t pull your gaze away from Mike. His soft brown eyes had found yours in the chaos of the room, luring you closer as the gap between you closed more and more the longer the song went on. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, but the way he was looking at you caused a certain pang to shoot straight through your heart, and you wanted more than ever to leap forward and into his arms. You were still stuck on him in eyeliner, the shadowy lines you had applied hours ago popping even more in the lighting of the party and making you sick with longing.
The sounds of the party slowly faded into silence as your dancing began to stop, you and Mike close enough that your hands were brushing together just by standing there. Your heart was flying at a thousand miles a minute, lips parted as you stared up at Mike with wide eyes. He was looking down at you just like that, and curse him for his stupid puppy eyes that made you fold, brown gaze lidded as his head tilted. The tension between the two of you was palpable, and it was nearly killing you to just be standing there without doing anything. You’d never seen such a subtle intensity to his expression before, and while you weren’t sure if it was just your own wishful thinking or not, it almost looked like want.
Something seemed to cross over Mike’s face, and without warning, his eyes flicked over you, stopping just below your eyes before meeting your gaze once again. He inhaled quietly, his hand brushing yours and sending a spark through your body as he opened his mouth to speak.
“You lo-”
“There you are!” A loud voice and the touch of a warm hand cut through whatever little moment you and Mike had just shared, silencing Mike’s words and putting an end to your staring. Fuck.
The two of you reluctantly stepped away from each other, the space between you now empty and cold. Sadness dug into Mike’s chest, piercing his heart and leaving him aching for whatever had just happened. His eyes lingered on you, mind still struggling to process it all, before turning to see Jane and Max, the red-head’s hand wrapping around your arm and starting to tug you away. No.
Mike still couldn’t hear a thing, now realizing how fast his heart had started beating and his ears probably suffering hearing damage from how loud the music was. His eyes caught yours just as Max was pulling you away, and the look on your face could’ve made him cry. You looked confused, a little upset, and, God, like your heart had just been broken. He was panicking, protests preventing your leave sitting in his mouth and waiting to be spoken, but he couldn’t find his voice, and soon enough, you were gone. He was stranded, all alone in the middle of a crowded room that now felt suffocating without you.
Without much thinking, he quickly moved out of the room, not in search of you, but in an attempt to just breathe. He was on fire, heart still pounding and body still on edge like you were still there, standing right in front of him. He slipped out of the house and onto the front porch, immediately letting out the groan he had been suppressing since Max and Jane had dragged you away, doing whatever instead of letting you be with him, like they had a vendetta against him or something. God, he was mad.
The boy frustratedly ran his fingers through his hair, trying to ease out the headache that was already forming from the crazy emotions and thoughts running through his mind. What had he even been trying to say to you? It seemed like you had heard it, and he prayed with everything in him that the music had muffled it out enough for you to not even know he was preparing to speak. Maybe you wouldn’t question it, he thought, maybe you would just brush over it like you had earlier, when you had been so close that he thought you might kiss him. Maybe you would and he would lie, or–
Mike stayed in this zone of constant overthinking for nearly an hour (two minutes) before he finally stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the porch, head nearly throbbing. He was a mess, somehow still flustered from the moment you had shared and trying desperately to not think about how close he had been to saying you looked beautiful. He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to rub away the headache that was pounding against his skull. He was about to overthink more when the sound of footsteps broke him out of his trance. Was it you? He turned around, heart picking up speed and abruptly stopping when he met the eyes of Lucas.
“Hey, I thought I saw you run out here,” the boy spoke gently, a soft smile on his face as he stood behind Mike, head tilting just slightly as if he were silently studying him. “You looked sick. Did you have more to drink?”
Mike quickly shook his head and smiled back, partially amused by the small tease but ultimately still too focused on the thoughts in his head for his happiness to stay for long. Lucas’s head tilted further before he sat down next to the other boy, lightly shoving his shoulder with a closed fist.
“Alright, how did you fumble this time?” A knowing smirk was plastered to Lucas’s face, and while he would normally roll his eyes and protest the teasing, Mike had no fight left in him. He breathed out a sigh, eyes dropping to the floor of the porch as he fidgeted with his hands.
“I don’t know, I just– We were dancing, and dancing close, and it was almost like, suggestive, I think? But she was looking at me, and wouldn’t stop, and eventually the dancing stopped because we were just staring at each other and–” Mike cut himself off, his voice getting pitchier the longer he recounted the moment. He cleared his throat, releasing another almost sad sigh as he brought his brown eyes back to Lucas.
“I was about to say something, something risky, but then the girls showed up and took her away before I could even get two words in,” Mike groaned, hands running through his hair again as his head rolled back dramatically. Lucas let out a small laugh, offering his friend consolation by patting his shoulder and nodding along as he rambled.
“What were you gonna say?” He asked, voice laced with something that sounded like he was getting ready to tease Mike.
“‘You look beautiful,’ I think. Look, I know it’s corny, okay, I just really like her and she did look like that and–”
“Mike, slow down,” Lucas interrupted, another laugh escaping his lips while he shook his head. Mike sighed, eyes falling down to the floor. Lucas hummed, looking around and thinking for a moment before turning back to Mike.
“So, you really felt like saying it, right?” Lucas asked, waiting for Mike’s nod before continuing. “Well, then why didn’t you? It seems like you could’ve.”
“I–” Mike started but quickly cut himself off, realizing that he probably should actually think about his answer. After a few moments, he spoke again: “Well, I didn’t want to say it in front of Max and Jane. But, thinking now, I… I guess I didn’t want to say it there. Like, I feel shitty now, but I’m… glad I didn’t. It would’ve been stupid.” Lucas nodded to Mike’s relief, and stayed silent for a moment as he processed his friend's words.
“Well, if it was me…” Lucas paused, tilting his head back and forth like he didn’t already know what he was going to say. A smirk was evident in his words, clearly finding amusement in Mike’s predicament. “I would still say it. Like, as soon as possible, preferably. Tonight, even.”
“What?! I can’t just–”
“Uh-uh. You were going to say it earlier, weren’t you?” Lucas raised his eyebrows and Mike swallowed, knowing that he would only dig himself into a bigger hole by protesting the truth. Lucas smiled at his silence. “Exactly. If you were ready to say it before, then you should. If you keep putting it off, you’ll never say it. Besides, I think she would like to hear it. From you, at least.”
“Lucas. She does not like me like that,” Mike sighed, dramatically swooping his head to look at his friend with a look of disdain. Lucas raised his eyebrow, a smirk falling onto his lips with ease.
“So she stared at you, and was basically on top of you while you guys danced,” Lucas held out his finger in front of Mike’s face, knowing he would argue about that little fact, “But you don’t think she likes you? Mike, are you blind?”
“Lucas!”
“Seriously, Mike, are you? I mean, if you think you are obvious, then she is a neon sign with an arrow attached,” Lucas snorted, shaking his head while Mike looked at him with the most disbelieving expression he’d ever worn. “Were her eyes all soft and sweet?”
“...Yes.”
“MIKE!” Lucas slapped his forehead, irritated by the other boy’s obliviousness. “Look, I’m calling it now, she likes you. So tell her. Or I will for you.”
Mike groaned, trying to listen to Lucas and believe his words, but some part of him was screaming that it was a joke. You couldn’t like him. Could you? No. Definitely not.
Unless…
Mike shook his head again while Lucas laughed at him, grabbing onto the brown-haired boy’s shoulder and pushing him back and forth.
“Look, it’ll be okay. And you said the eyeliner was her idea, right? It’s probably ‘cause she thinks it’s hot,” Lucas teased and Mike groaned dramatically, flushed at the notion of you thinking that of him. Mike didn’t even see himself as attractive; there was no way in hell you did.
“If I say it and it goes wrong, you are who I’m blaming. Even if I was going to say it earlier. I think you’re fucking with me,” Mike turned to his friend, a smile tugging at his lips as he spoke, though he meant what he said.
“You really think I would lie to you like that?” Lucas said in a mocking tone, throwing a hand over his chest and acting surprised by Mike’s statement. He shook his head, moving to stand up and then holding a hand out for Mike to grab. Lucas’s voice turned serious as he pulled Mike up, making eye contact with the boy to show him he meant his words: “Trust me. Please. Even if it’s just this time.”
Mike’s lips were moving to form the word ‘fine’ when an all-too familiar set of steps approached behind him. Mike’s heart started beating faster on instinct before he could even turn to confirm if it was you or not. It was.
You cleared your throat, making Mike turn around to meet your eyes. He could hear the grin on Lucas’s lips without having to see him.
“Hey, Will said he thought he’d seen you come out here,” You started, voice soft. Were you flushed or was it just the porch light doing that to your face? Your eyes flicked to Lucas for a moment, eyebrow raising but keeping whatever you were thinking to yourself. “Do you– are you ready to leave? It’s too crowded.”
Mike had never seen you this awkward, and it worried him. Had something happened to you? Did he do something? Thoughts began to flood into Mike’s head at a rapid pace, and he had to force each one back just to speak to you.
“Yeah, I am,” He replied carefully, nodding at you. He knew Lucas was absolutely beaming right now, and the expectation that his friend had put on him was now weighing on his shoulders. Mike forced himself to take a deep breath.
“Okay,” You hummed, a smile finally reaching your lips. Your head gestured out in the direction of the lawn, eyes never leaving Mike’s as you waited for him. “Let’s go.”
Mike felt Lucas shove his shoulder as he stepped away, and the brunette shook his head. His heart was already in his throat and his frame was a little on edge, anticipation building in his gut as he thought more and more about what Lucas had said. Mike had been so consumed by the idea of you not liking him that he had never actually taken the time to consider if you could. The more he thought about tonight, about the years between you, Mike wasn’t as certain in his stance anymore. Still, he was a nervous mess, and wasn’t sure he would even be able to speak a single word of what he was supposed to say when it finally came time to.
You were both silent on the ride home, both tired from the heaviness of the party and just ready to get home. Mike’s leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, still deep in thought as he readied himself to say the words he had wanted to voice earlier. Just say it, he would think, but then a moment would pass by and the courage left him practically as soon as he had formed it. He did this several times before finally placing a hand on his knee, sighing out a breath and letting his eyes drift out of the window into the darkness of the night. The silence in the car just felt too heavy, and the longer he waited, the more anxious he got, and eventually, he gave up on the hope of telling you tonight. Lucas would have to deal with it.
As soon as he broke from his trance and he thought he was done, his own work came to play in his face. Every Breath You Take had been the last song Mike had put onto your cassette, and now that it was playing with you right next to him, he felt like an idiot. The song was taunting him, reminding him of the ever decreasing time you and Mike had together before you parted for college and making him silently lose his mind. He had so much to tell you, but not enough confidence to actually let it out. He was close to giving up on his love for you entirely, believing that at this point he would have to force himself to move on from you because he couldn’t speak up in enough time.
You were losing your mind just as much as he was, your heart aching at the lyrics that were playing softly in your car. The party was still on your mind, still nagging at your brain and making you wonder if maybe you did have a chance. At the same time, however, Mike seemed thrown off from the second he saw you on the porch, and hadn’t said a word since he sat down in your car. You were ready for this song to become your life story, to leave your feelings in your head and heart until Mike was finally out of reach, and spend the rest of your days wishing that you had just stood up and said something.
Sadness and longing echoed in both of your minds as the song played out, both of you still completely silent with how caught up you were in your thoughts. You eventually pulled into Mike’s driveway, sighing as you set the car into park and relaxing in your seat. Neither of you said a word for a few moments, both waiting on the other to speak up first. Finally pushing down the nerves and emotions that were building inside of your chest, you turned to Mike, and were met with his own eyes. Your heart fluttered, taken aback by the fact that he had already been looking at you. Get it together. You forced yourself to swallow, fingers nervously fidgeting with each other in your lap as you finally spoke up.
“Well,” you started, a soft smile on your lips that only made Mike’s heart ache even more. “Did you have fun?”
“I did,” Mike nodded, pushing his voice to remain steady as he spoke to you. His leg was still bouncing up and down, just as anxious as you were. He still had time to say it. “I’m glad you dragged me out there. Now I know to never go to a party again.”
Your quiet laughter made Mike more flustered than he’d like to admit, and a smile morphed on his lips at the sound. Say it.
“Happy I could be of service,” you smiled, voice just as gentle as before. You paused, the soft hum of the engine and the light melody of the music the only sounds in the car. When you spoke again, Mike’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. “I’m glad you were there.”
Mike wanted to melt at the smile on your face, something hidden within your expression that he couldn’t name making his heart stutter beyond control. His hand clenched his knee again, unconsciously trying to stall his nervous movements as the two of you gazed at each other, a subtle tension filling the gap between you the longer you didn’t speak.
Mike, after realizing he had probably been looking at you for a little too long, cleared his throat and looked out the window, his eyes falling onto the outline of his home. He sighed, realizing that his time with you for the night was over. Lucas’s words were still at the front of his mind, practically screaming at him to say the words he had tried to let out earlier. But Mike just couldn’t.
“Thanks for the ride. Oh, and helping me get ready tonight,” Mike said while his gaze turned back to you, immediately cursing himself for letting it slip out. The memory of you right in front of him replayed in his mind like a reminder of something he was missing, urging him more and more to just speak up already. He resisted, shoving the thought to the back of his head and trying to forget about how much it had affected him and still was.
“Of course,” you muttered, abruptly stopping as if there was more you wanted to say but were holding back. You released a breath, shoulders relaxing as your eyes flicked around one last time before reaching his brown eyes again. The subdued sadness on his face tore your heart into pieces; you would've done anything to replace it with a smile.
“See you soon, okay?” You asked reluctantly, praying he didn’t hear the pain that had suddenly reached your voice. He nodded while unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the door handle, his eyes never once leaving yours.
“See you soon,” he said softly, and a beat later, he was out of your car. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, your hands flexing into fists before you released them, stretching your fingers out to try and rid of the anxiety that had settled beneath your skin. Time seemed to slow as you silently watched Mike walk up to his house, moving towards the side door that led into the basement you had been in just hours ago.
Your mind and heart were still heavy with thoughts and emotions, unable to shake the nerves inside of you. Your memories lingered on tonight, still not sure why you and Mike had suddenly become so awkward. Moments and details flew across your mind, each reminding you of the three words you had kept locked in your heart for years. You thought back to earlier when you and Mike had danced together– he had seemed like he was about to say something before Max took you away. That’s where it all went wrong, you thought. You remembered how Mike had looked so hurt after that, and how quiet he had been since that moment. At that very second, as you watched in anticipation as Mike’s hand gripped the door handle, something in your head finally clicked.
You couldn’t stop yourself any longer. You had to know.
You turned your car off without thinking, shoving your door open as fast as you could. “Wait!” You called to him, speed-walking in his direction while your heart started to pound within your chest.
Mike jumped at the sound of your voice, his hand immediately retracting from the door handle as he turned to face you. He breath hitched at the urgency in your movements, and he knew you well enough to know that something was on your mind. His eyes widened, heart already starting to beat faster at the possibilities of what you might have to say.
“Um–” You stopped in front of him, a bit breathless as you gazed up at him. You nearly folded at the sight of him like this, the soft glow of the overhead light casting a halo onto his messy curls and framing his face in what you thought was the most beautiful way possible. His eyeliner was just a little smudged, and his brown eyes glimmered with a gentleness that you had never seen him with. He looked stunning, and you were reeling, heart only getting faster the longer you stared.
“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, forcing your eyes shut for a few seconds as you pulled yourself together. Your words were a swift ramble, your nervousness causing your mind to operate at a thousand miles an hour. “I just– one question. A- At the party earlier, before Max and Jane took me away, what– what were you about to say?”
Oh. Oh God. Fuck, he was screwed.
Mike froze, lips falling just slightly agape. He stared down at you, some kind of disbelief covering his face as he tried to process your question. He could feel his face heating up at the mere thought of saying it to you right now, and he could feel his knees getting wobbly the longer he stood there. Why was this so hard to do now? He had been fine earlier, so what about now made saying it any different? He closed his mouth and forced down a swallow, trying to ignore that the tips of his fingers were starting to tingle with how nervous he was.
“I–” His voice cracked immediately, and he wanted to die right there, not sure how he was going to get through this. Breathe. Why isn’t breathing working? His eyes darted around, not sure where to look but trying desperately to avoid the intensity of your eyes. “You–”
The subtle lift of your eyebrow cut him off as his eyes flicked back to you unconsciously, and now he was really screwed. He felt trapped now, so many words lodged in his throat as his mind jumbled everything together when he needed it to work the most. He watched as your head cocked to the side, trying and ultimately failing to coax something, anything out of him. You sighed, and Mike felt like throwing up.
“You can be honest, Mike,” you whispered, the use of his name only scrambling his thoughts even further, “I won’t mind if it’s bad.”
“I think you might this time,” He replied without thinking, sad eyes falling to the concrete beneath him. He could feel your eyes on him, seeing into his every thought and fear as he stood there, helpless. He heard you take a deep breath and watched your feet move as you stepped closer, trying to ease him into speech.
“Try me,” you whispered, voice almost reverent. He could hear the subtle smile in your tone, and as soon as his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, he knew it was useless to hide any longer.
“I– What I was trying to say is that–” Mike’s voice cracked again and he held back a groan of frustration, opting to instead just shut his eyes and inhale deeply. He paused for a few more moments before his eyes opened back up again, looking anywhere but at you as he finally, finally said what had been nagging at him for the entire night.
“You– You looked good. Well, wait, not just good, pretty. Shit, not that either. You–” He took a deep breath, hands fidgeting with each other as he finally gazed into your eyes. “You looked beautiful. And I know that’s weird and you’re probably thinking ‘wow, what a creep,’ but I just can’t help it because you are beautiful, and fuck, I’m rambling now, and–”
“Mike.” You cut him off, and Mike inhaled sharply. Oh. You were staring dead at him, looking up at him with something akin to certainty and, if Mike was being honest with himself, want. Ohmygod. What had he just done? It was over. Boom, he blew it. There goes his best friend. There goes those years of feelings, those years of longing and want and waiting, waiting for a sign that you might–
Mike’s mind short-circuited as your eyes glanced down, and, as much as his instincts wanted to fight it, your gaze lingered on his lips. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. Was this real? Were you real? Had he dreamed up this whole thing? He was spiraling when you looked back up at him, lips parted and eyes expectant. Mike inhaled deeply.
“Do you really mean all of that?” You said, and your voice was so breathless that Mike thought he might fall over right there. He could only nod, words not forming in his mind fast enough. There was so much that he had yet to say, a thousand words on the edge of his tongue as he watched you carefully, hoping and praying your next words wouldn’t be ones of anger and disgust.
Time stretched out that moment as Mike gazed at you in all your glory, your cheeks flushed and lips parted as you looked up at him with intense eyes. You were so, so beautiful, and he selfishly let himself glance down at your lips, unable to restrain the pull that you had on him. He couldn’t hide anymore.
“Mike–”
“Can I kiss you?” You both spoke at the same time, both of your voices breathless as you stared at each other. Shock crossed over your face and your eyes widened, and Mike could feel himself panicking, readying himself to die right there when you finally rejected him.
You did not reject him. Mike was frozen as he watched you slowly start nodding, your eyes still glued to him like he was an anchor you were holding onto for life.
“Please.”
Your heart stuttered as Mike then gently reached for your face, glancing at your lips then back into your eyes one last time to make sure you were certain. You nodded and let your eyes shut, body already on fire and heart ready to explode as he finally pulled you in.
The kiss was gentle, neither of you wanting to push whatever luck fate had gifted you with and mess up the precious moment you had created. You tilted your head up and into Mike’s lips, deepening the kiss as his hand held you close to him. You felt like floating, heart now settling in your chest as a sense of comfort fell over you. This was perfect. He was perfect. You never wanted him to let go; you could stay there forever.
When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to Mike’s as you both caught your breath. You felt dizzy and alive all at the same time, still not entirely sure if what was happening was even real. Your eyes opened back up and your heart fluttered as you looked at Mike, warmth hovering in between you as déjà vu washed over you. The scene from mere hours ago played in your head, remembering how close you were and how much had been on your mind at that exact moment. This moment felt so much like that, only now, you were more certain than ever with your emotions, and you had actually kissed him this time.
You had wanted this for longer than you could remember, and now that it was in your hands, everything that you had felt for years was rushed into the forefront of your mind. All of the doubts you had harbored disappeared the moment his lips met yours, and now, you weren’t afraid anymore. The words “I love you” pressed against your teeth and sat on the tip of your tongue, finally ready to be let out after all of this time. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that were now building all over your body.
“Mike?” You uttered out, voice nervous as you locked your gaze onto his eyes.
“Yeah?” He whispered back, his soft eyes flicking up and down your face. God, that eyeliner still looked so good on him. You inhaled again, fists balling together at your side as you tried to stop the buzzing in your fingers. Mike, as if sensing the war in your mind, moved his thumb across your cheek gently, the reassuring gesture nearly making you fall over.
“I–” You murmured, voice low as your eyes found his. “I love you.”
You watched as Mike’s jaw fell slack, his eyes wide and cheeks flushing a color deeper than the red dye that was still stuck to his skin. You barely had time to catch your breath before his lips were back on yours, kissing you so hard that you nearly stumbled backwards. Your hand reached for his arm, holding on for support as you kissed him back just as passionately. He lightly tugged you closer as he stepped and pressed his back to the side door, his lips moving over yours so fast that you could barely process what was even happening. Your brain was mush, your only thoughts being him and how amazing you felt right now. Mike, Mike, Mike.
Mike pulled away, finally allowing both of you to breathe. He let out something that sounded like a curse before he leaned back in, his hand on your cheek guiding you right back to where you had been.
“I love you,” he murmured in between kisses, his smile pressing into your own as he kept pulling you closer. You were at a loss, still not sure that this wasn’t all just a dream. But then he pulled away and his eyes were filled with so much emotion that you knew you couldn’t be hallucinating this. “I love you so much it hurts.”
Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest at that, and you were sure that Mike’s hand was the only thing keeping you standing in that moment. You sighed out a small laugh, rendered completely breathless from all that was happening. You shook your head, eyes on him as pure warmth flooded your body.
“It doesn’t have to hurt anymore. I’m here, Mike,” you breathed out, head tilting to the side, leaning gently into his palm as you smiled up at him. He beamed back at you as he nodded, brown eyes so, so soft on you as he gently cradled your face. The two of you sat in silence for a few more moments, quietly observing each other and soaking in the presence of one another before you decided you couldn’t handle yourself any longer.
“Alright, come on,” you giggled, your free hand moving behind him to twist the door handle before you pulled him inside. Your fingers slid down his arm and intertwined with his hand as you tugged him to the couch, a toothy grin on your lips the entire time. You sat down and he followed, immediately leaning into you and reaching for your waist as he kissed you again. Your hands reached for his hair, fingers sinking into his soft curls as you leaned back into the couch cushions.
You let out a soft hum as he deepened the kiss, his warm hand sliding up and fingers coaxing their way underneath the fabric of your shirt, making your breath shudder more than you wanted to admit. A smile grew on his lips from that, something that sounded like a huff of victory leaving his breath as you pulled him closer.
When you broke for air, Mike leaned in again, this time pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth as he began to pepper kisses all over your face and even leaving some on your neck, causing small giggles to come bubbling out of your mouth.
“Mike!” you exclaimed, still giddy with delight and cheeks flushing more with each small peck he left. He was laughing with you, smirking as he finally pulled away and let you catch your breath. You were a mess, but you were a happy mess if it meant Mike was all over you.
“I can’t help it,” he cheesed at you, hand reaching back up to your face and then running his fingers down your cheek. “You’re too pretty.”
“Yeah, well, so are you,” you cheesed back, and you unfortunately realized how stupid you sounded after the words had been spoken. To your relief, he teasingly lifted his eyebrow, a soft grin rising on his face.
“Me? Pretty?” He asked, shaking his head at you as he leaned closer. Your back was pressed into the cushions now, legs stretched out as he hovered over you like he was waiting for a chance to dive back in. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him to.
“Yeah,” you nodded, deciding to go along with his joking even if you really did think he looked pretty. “It’s the eyeliner.”
“Wait, you really do like it?” He asked, real confusion crossing over his face as he stared down at you.
“Mike. I’d be happy if you never took it off,” you whispered, the genuineness of your voice making Mike’s heart stutter. “Please don’t take it off. You look ridiculously amazing in it.”
Mike scoffed out of surprise, your blunt words sending another wave of heat straight to his face. He shook his head, leaning even closer and letting his eyes drop to your lips once again as he tested the waters.
“I don’t even know how to apply it myself,” he sighed dramatically, his thumb slowly running across your cheek for the second time that night. For how big of a nerd he was, he sure knew how to make you flustered.
“Well, it’s your lucky day,” you murmured again, a smirk rising on your lips as you let him pull you close, the air between you charged with heat. You could barely believe what you were doing right now, but you couldn’t stop. You had waited so long, too long for this, and you couldn’t risk letting him slip away from you just as you had finally taken hold of him. Mike was yours, and you were his, and you had never been happier.
Your gaze fell, lingering on Mike’s lips for a moment as you just narrowly closed the gap, your lips brushing together while you purposely held out your silence. When you spoke, your voice was low, and you could feel Mike already leaning back in before you were even done:
“I know the perfect teacher.”
author's note: omg i finished it!!!!! hopefully you guys see my vision because come on….mike wheeler is an eyeliner wearer. i really am proud of this and hope you guys liked it!! it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written, but i loved writing it :))) i am all for writing more ab mike in guyliner or just mike in general so if you have a request or just want to reach out, my ask box is open!!! love you guys❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
Summary: Your cat and his intents on escaping brings you to finally meet your neighbor next door, who quickly becomes his favorite human. You and Jack bond over your cat and the cookies you keep giving him as an apology. [9k]
Content: No use of Y/N, no physical descriptions of reader, idk what else.
A/N: I had this idea because my cat is an absolute menace (he's the cat from the photo and his actual name is Gregorio)
Disclaimer: English is NOT my first language so this may as well be written with my eyes closed and half delusional brain. Hope you enjoy it! NOT PROOF READ AT ALL!!!
Masterlist ✦ Jack Abbot Masterlist ✦ Read on A03
“Meatball! Where are you, my little baby?" You called for your cat as soon as you got home.
He had the audacity to rebel against your wishes to be an indoor cat, always finding the way to scape.
"Spoiled cat” you murmured while you kept turning your place upside down to find him.
Your cat is a beautifully colored Siamese cat, adopted and spoiled. He's your whole world and you love him deeply but he gets in your nerves too easily.
First time cat mom and your fur baby kept refusing to listen and stay in the safeness and comfort of your home.
You looked everywhere he liked to hide on before panicking. You don't have a clue how he escaped, you made sure to close every door and window before going to work.
While checking windows and doors you realized you had left the door to your balcony with only the screen door closed. Same one that now had a big hole made by the little paws of your demon cat.
“Shit" you murmured while you stepped into the balcony, looking for any trace of your cat.
You caught sight of his tail as he entered your neighbor's apartment. You were going to strangle that cat.
Unfortunately, you knew nothing of your next door neighbor except that he was a doctor and apparently worked nights. Or that's what another neighbor had told you.
Oh, right. He works nights so he probably will be sleeping…. shit.
With a resigned sigh, you knew you had to wake up your neighbor to get your cat. That was if the little shit hadn't woken him up already, he had the habit to wanting cuddles when everyone was sleeping and he wasn't known for his patience.
Before leaving your house you grabbed your keys and a handful of buttercream cookies you had baked last night, hoping they were enough apology to your neighbor.
Once in front of the door of your neighbor's apartment you took a few breaths— you were not good at talking with people you didn't knew beforehand— before ringing the bell and waiting patiently for him to open the door.
A few minutes went by before hearing the door open and being greeted with the sight of your very handsome very shirtless neighbor. His hair was in all directions and his face showed he was asleep before you interrupted him.
Oh, and he was carrying your very big very fat cat like he was a baby. And the fucker was purring.
“Hello, may I help you?" He asked seeing your dumbfounded expression, yet his voice was somewhat kind.
You blinked a few times before forcing yourself to look away from him "Uh, yes. Dr. Abbot, right?” you pointed towards your door "I think that's my cat”
He hummed, observing your flustered expression while leaning against the threshold, still carrying your cat. "Call me Jack” He offered, his voice friendly “And yes, I had the suspicion that it was from one of my neighbors"
You raised your eyes to met his, a frown set on your forehead "Meatball looks like he's too comfortable”
I would he too if I was carried in those arms
Your neighbor smiled at you with humor. "Meatball, huh? I have been calling him Greg”
"Greg? Huh, I guess he does resemble a Greg” You murmured softly before glancing down at the cookies you were holding "Oh, these are for you”
He blinked at you, then followed your like of sight. "Oh, you didn't have to.”
You waved him off "I wanted to, it's kind of an apology for finding my cat"
“I think that Meatball was the one who found me” Jack replied with amusement “Come on in so I can put him down" He offered.
You nodded, entering and closing the door after you. Once he put your cat down, you handed him the cookies.
"These look delicious" the corner of Jack's mouth started to water at the sight of the cookies.
Staring down, you observed how your cat was meowing and practically asking for Jack to pick him up once again.
"He didn't wake you, did he?” You asked mortified when you remembered how spoiled by you he was and seeing that he had taken a liking to your neighbor…
Your neighbor merely shrugged with a small smile “He wanted cuddles, apparently"
A groan left your lips "I'm sorry, he's a bit spoiled and likes his cuddles”
A smile curled in his lips “No worries, he's a cute little fella"
“You could say that" you murmured under your breath.
A laugh cut through the silence in the room, soft and breathy "And Meatball owner's name?”
Eyes snapping up to him, you muttered your name shyly.
“Jack Abbott" He introduced himself “About time we know each other, we're next door neighbors"
“I agree" you smiled at him “Though I must admit I'm not the most friendly person, contrary to that little shit" you pointed at your cat who was trying to get Jack's attention.
Your very handsome neighbor only laughed at your description of Meatball. He could tell it all was rough love, hearing the tenderness in your voice.
“You work nights, right?" You asked him, earning a nod from him “That's why we haven't met, I usually get to my place after work and crash until next day”
“Makes sense" He hummed softly, staring at you with interest. "But now we know each other, thanks to Meatball”
You chuckled softly, he was right. “Well, apparently he likes you because he is ignoring me right now and asking for you to pick him up"
He leaned down with a smile, scratching between Meatball's ears earning a satisfied purr. “He's cute and… big”
“You can say it, he's fat" You shrugged softly “I don't have a clue why, I have him on a strict regime"
Jack looked at you with a teasing smile "Are you fat shaming your cat?”
Squirting at him, you repressed a laugh “I'm saying a fact. He's big and fat and mean"
“He's adorable" Jack defended your cat.
“That too" you agreed with a smile. You were glad that your neighbor was nice and wasn't mad at you for not controlling your cat.
The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, a smile on both of your faces, before breaking out of the haze.
“Shit, I'm keeping you while you probably should be sleeping or getting ready for your shift" You blurted out, realizing you might be imposing.
He waved you off "I have a few hours until I have to be on my way to my shift. Sit, let's eat these delicious looking cookies you brought”
You chuckled softly “I don't want to impose, I should leave—"
He raised a hand, stopping your excuses “If you have nothing to do, stay and have a cookie."
Jack was giving you an out, yet you didn't want to go, he intrigued you.
With a sigh, you relented “Alright, alright"
That's how you ended up staying most of your afternoon in his place, talking and eating your cookies. It was cut short because he had to work, but before you left he made you promise to bake him more cookies.
You accepted, of course. Also, you had the feeling that Meatball was going to find his way to his apartment again.
The next time you saw him was in your day off, it was early in the morning, way too early for someone like you who didn't like mornings.
You were deep cleaning and throwing a bunch of stuff you didn't need into trash bags. And you had a lot of it.
Once you had everything you needed to get to the containers, you made an escape plan. Yes, escape plan because your cat would bolt out the door as soon as you opened it. Unfortunately, you were not quick enough and the little shit beat you to it, sprinting out the door.
“Meatball!" You groaned and followed him, trying to catch him but he was fast for such an oversized cat.
He was fast and slippery, quickly tiring you out before sprinting on the opposite direction. Rounding a corner on the hall and towards the flights of stairs, and then you saw Meatball jump into someone's arms. Jack's.
"Oh. Hey, Meatball” Jack was quick to adjust the cat in his arms, watching as you breathlessly stopped in front of him. “Jail break?"
You stood in front of him, trying to regulate your breathing "Yeah”
“I have the feeling that Meatball doesn't like being in your apartment" He pointed out teasingly.
You sighed heavily “Too bad, he's an interior cat"
Jack merely hummed, amusement lacing his face.
Looking at him— really looking— you realized he was wearing scrubs, shifting the weight from one leg to another. "Coming home from work?”
“Yes, shift rang long" He was now distracted petting your cat.
You responded with a hum, staring to walk towards your apartments and away from the stairs and possible freedom of your cat.
Stopping by your door, Jack could see that you had something going on. “Cleaning day?" He asked you, his eyebrows raised.
"Deep cleaning day” You corrected him "That's how this Tasmanian devil escaped, he ran out the door when I was trying to get these to the container” you pointed towards the big trash bags.
He blinked at you, still holding your cat who was very happy to be held by him "Seems like you take cleaning very seriously”
“Something like that" You murmured, now realizing what a mess you had made with your idea of deep cleaning. "Anyway, let me take this one off your hands so you can go rest”
Meatball hissed angrily when you tried to take him from Jack.
With a frown, you pointed at your cat with your index finger "Meatball, don't hiss”
He responded by slapping your finger with his paw before melting onto Jack, who was grinning while trying to suppress a laugh.
“Do you want a cat?" You asked your neighbor with a dead ass expression "It's free, I'll throw in 20 dollars if you accept”
Jack was now full on laughing, shaking his head "Nah, he's all yours”
"50 dollars, then”
“Tempting" Jack answered with a smile “Still no"
You huffed, glaring at your cat "Seems like the fucker adopted you”
Jack frowned at your words “Adopted me?”
“Yes” you answered with a firm nod "It happens, they pick their favorite human”
“Wouldn't that be you?" Jack tilted his head in confusion.
"No, I am only the human that feeds him and keeps him alive” You rolled your eyes at your cat "You're his favorite human now.”
“I guess that is… good?” He asked softly, not fully understanding what you meant.
You gave him an amused glance "You're not much of a cat person, are you?”
He shook his head bashfully “Not really, no. I've always been more a dog person"
With a chuckle, you nodded "You have that vibe about you, yeah. Doesn't matter now cause you officially been adopted by my cat"
Jack gave you a doubtful glance "Didn't he adopt you too?”
“Nope, I adopted him, he adopted you" You shrugged “Weirdly enough"
That's how you started making friends with your next door neighbor, through your cat.
Meatball seemed to love Jack, always scratching the door when he would hear him arrive or pass by your door while you tried to explain to him that it was way too early for him to he planning mischief.
Though your cat did not care for any of your chiding, looking for a way to get to Jack. It was official, Meatball had adopted Jack.
The doorbell rang a little too early for your taste on day. Opening one eye, you glanced at your clock, seeing it was a little past 7:30 in the morning. Yes, you had to be starting to get ready for work in about 20 minutes if you wanted to leave on time but those were minutes you liked to get of sleep.
With a groan you threw your blankets off you, grabbing a robe and putting it on before moving to answer the door.
There, you found Jack with Meatball lounging comfortably in his arms. You didn't even know when had Meatball escaped from the comfort of your home but seemed like the little demon wanted to always be with Jack.
You sighed heavily “Hi, Jack"
He smiled at your disheveled appearance "Hi. Meatball was sleeping on my couch and I thought you might want him back”
You opened the door for him to step in. “Offer still stands, get the cat and 50 dollars"
He chuckled, putting Meatball down "I think it is a hard pass still. He would grow lonely”
You smiled at him, going into the kitchen to serve Meatball his breakfast. “I don't know how you work nights" You commented.
Jack shrugged, following you to keep the conversation through the kitchen threshold "My therapist says I find comfort in the darkness”
Huh, that sounded about right.
"Overrated”
You scoffed softly "There is nothing in the world I love most than sleeping. I think I was a mite in a past life"
“And what about sleep?"
That got him to chuckle “Very unlikely but I know what you mean"
You saw Jack grab a cookie from the plate on your kitchen counter. After the first bite, he let out a sound of agreement. "These are delicious. New recipe?”
It was endearing how much Jack loved your baked goods and how he always complimented you. It was not helping you to avoid having a crush with your neighbor.
You hummed with a smile “They have a tiny bit of lavender"
He pointed at you "Delicious. I'm going to get big only by eating what you bake”
With a chuckle, you grabbed the plate, putting a few on a container "You are not. You exercise and do yoga and a lot of shit, you’re safe”
He took the container once you handed it to him “Maybe, but still."
"If you don't want it…" you started, reaching for the container.
Playfully, he pushed your hand away “No, no. I want cookies"
“That's what I thought" you smiled at him before glancing at your clock. "Oh, shit. It's late, I have to get ready for work”
He smiled at you, grabbing the container so he could leave "I'll see you around. Have a good day at work”
“Thank you for bringing Meatball" You returned his smile “I owe you"
Jack showed you the cookies “Payment enough. I'll let myself out, you do what you have to"
“Bye, Jack. Thank you so much" You said, already making your way to your room to get ready.
A few weeks passed by before you saw Jack again, yet this time it was you seeking for him.
You knocked on his door, a big plate full with a variety of sweets in your hands while you waited for him to open the door.
Once he opened the door, he smiled when he saw you. "Well, hello”
You gave him a sheepish smile "Hi, Jack"
He rested his weight on the doorframe, staring at you with suspicion “I'm guessing those sweets are to convince me of something"
"I always give you baked goods!” You defended yourself before sighing "But this time I do need something”
With a chuckle, Jack invited you in. Once the two of you were comfortably sitting, he asked “Shoot. What do you need, Sweetheart?"
Sweetheart? He's calling me sweetheart? Oh, I'm going to swoon. Dramatically.
You blinked at him "Sweetheart?”
He nodded “Sweetheart"
You shook your head, letting it go for the moment "Alright, so I need a big favor to ask you”
“Didn't know we were on the stage of asking big favors" Jack smirk showed when he said that.
“Didn't know we were on the sweetheart stage” You threw back.
“Touché. What's the big favor?"
At that, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself "I need to know if you could be my cat-sitter for a couple of days?”
He raised his eyebrows at that "Cat-sitter?”
“Yes, I need to get out of the city for a few days and as much as I'd like to take him with me, I can't" You explained, your tone desperate.
"Everything okay?” came Jack's question.
Wait, he looked… worried? He's not helping my dumb heart.
You sighed heavily “Yeah, it's just kind of a family thing and I don't have a place adapted for Meatball at my parent's house, besides he always get too nervous when traveling"
“Your parents live far?”
“Three hours by car" you answered “and I'm driving all the way there. Meatball definitely won't last that long in his carrier. I usually leave him with a friend but she has a newborn now and you're my last budget friendly option"
It was obvious you almost blurted out that information, seemingly talking fast when you were nervous or anxious.
He was staring at you with a tinkle in his eyes "You really know how to talk a lot without breathing, don't you?"
You left out a groan “Jack! Focus, please"
Jack raised his hands in innocence “Alright, alright. I think I can manage with Meatball"
"Really?” You asked him, relieved "Oh, I will he in debt with you forever”
"When are you leaving?”
"In three days” You answered softly "I will write down everything you need to know and I'll bring you everything you need” Giving a look around his place, you dared to ask "Would you mind if he stays in your apartment? It's just that he gets clingy"
He nodded "Yeah, no problem. Besides, I think it'll be better that way”
"You're my savior” Relief laced your words.
Jack pointed at you "You owe me a lot of baked goods”
"Of course” the sigh that left your lips was one of pure relief and you could tell Jack was finding it amusing “Thank you so, so much"
Your stress was quickly replaced with relief, you could not let your baby be alone and Jack seemed like the logic options since Meatball loved him a lot. You were doubtful of asking him to cats sit, but he was your last resort and you didn't have the money to spend on a hotel for pets, they were too expensive and you were a tiny bit distrustful about how complete strangers would treat Meatball. So that was a no.
…
"… and you call me if something seems slightly off with him, so I can call the vet and—”
Jack put his hands on your shoulders, leveling his gaze to yours “I have it under control, Sweetheart."
You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves “Sorry, I tend to get anxious"
Rubbing your shoulders, he shot you a smile "I assure you, Meatball is in great hands”
Looking at said cat, he was comfortably laying on Jack's couch, without a care in the world.
Jack Abbot is very aware of the fact that you are overly protective of Meatball, he can see it in the constant worry etched into your face anytime he doesn't eat his full plate of food or meows the wrong way. Jack has spent enough time around you and your cat to know when something is off in your eyes regarding Meatball.
"You're right, I'm being a lot right now”
He chuckled softly "You're just worried, it's normal. He's your baby” Jack pointed towards Meatball, who was sleeping belly up, a very good signal that he was comfortable with Jack around.
Looking down at your clock, you let out a sigh “I think it's time for me to go"
"Everything will be fine” He said slowly, reassuring you once again. He was being too patient with you. "Text me when you get there, okay?”
"Of course” you nodded, making your way to say goodbye to Meatball.
Feeling you near, Meatball opened his eyes, looking at you with curiosity before letting out a little meow, asking for you to pet him.
You peppered kisses on his little head "I love you so much, little shit. Be good for Jack” with wack kiss to your cat you murmured your words, asking him to behave.
Once you were a bit satisfied you stood upright, moving towards the door, opening it but not quite leaving yet.
"Last thing, he likes his food served far from his water—”
“… and at certain hour, I know” Jack was confirming everything you had told him, patiently.
“— he has to have a little play time or he gets angsty—"
"…Yes, 20 minutes everyday is the minimum”
“— he will wake you up for cuddles almost always, he's clingy like that—" you kept on rambling.
"… but if I'm tired I should keep his mouse toy close so he could focus on it instead, yes”
"— he can have two treats each day, if he behaves—”
“…not more than two, I am aware”
“—also, he doesn't like to eat alone so you must—"
"…put his bowl next to where I eat and eat with him. I know"
You squinted at him, realizing he had indeed listened to you. “Okay, you have everything under control. I'll leave"
He smiled at you, getting closer to bid you goodbye “Drive safe, we will see you in a week"
With a reluctant sigh, and without really thinking about it, you moved to kiss his cheek "You're the best, see you”
Jack saw how you left after that, standing frozen in place while his heart was beating so fast because of a little kiss on the cheek. God, you were going to be the end of him.
The days passed and there was not a single day when you wouldn't be texting him or calling him to know if Meatball was okay.
…
Neither of you would admit it, but the calls and texts were the best part of both of your days.
It was becoming increasingly hard to ignore the crush you had on your neighbor yet you couldn't bring yourself to be forward with your feelings. Besides, what if Jack didn't feel the same? You only knew each other recently and most of your conversations happened because of your cat or the sweet treats you gave him.
Jack Abbot was not fairing better than you, he could not stop thinking about the owner of the cat he was sitting. You had come into his life full of chaos and comfort and now he could not dare to think about a life without your cat, sweet treats and you in it.
Shit, thinking about it, maybe you do look like a schoolgirl with a crush.
On the last day before going back to Pittsburgh, you called Jack two hours before he was to start his shift, knowing his schedule almost by memory.
The phone rang two times before Jack picked up. “Hello, Sweetheart”
Shit. Fuck. You could not let his voice affect you the way it does.
“Hi, Jack" You answered into the phone while packing your bags. “How's my baby?"
You could hear movement on the other side along with the chuckle that left his lips “He's okay, asking very loudly for treats”
A laugh left your lips at that. Even in the distance, you knew your cat and how spoiled he was “Yep, that's my baby. Means he's okay, though"
Jack hummed and you could hear the smile in his lips "I must admit, Meatball is a tiny bit spoiled”
“Try very spoiled" You rolled your eyes “I thought he was going to take harder the fact that I was not around but I think he's doing pretty good" A pause “I don't know if I should feel relieved or offended"
“If it's any consolation, he was trying to scape earlier"
“Sadly, it's not. Meatball keep refusing to a life of luxury, full meals and a warm bed." You didn't know what else to do for that cat to understand he had it nice and he doesn't appreciate it.
"He wants to experiment, be a bad boy and find love” Jack's voice was full of amusement. He loved those little chats were both you and him left your minds fly free, grateful that you understood his humor.
"Don't we all” You murmured, trying to remember if you were forgotten to pack anything.
"What? Find love?” Jack asked you while laying on his bed, your cat by his side.
"Yeah” You answered, your mind still preoccupied "I mean, I love love but I can't seem to find it”
His heart ached at the thought of you not finding the love you deserved “You’ll find it, I'm sure of it"
“How can you be so sure?" You asked him, now flopping into your bed. “I've been single almost my entire life"
"Good things comes to those who wait”
“Then I'm getting the fucking best of what love has to offer" Humor was lacing your words.
Yes, you were a little skeptical of the ways life worked.
“Be patient, I'm sure it's in the way" He tried to comfort you, hearing your voice change a bit.
A groan left your lips, sounding more tired and sleepy than awake. The bed was too comfortable and a nap sounded good.
You could hear the chuckle that left his lips through the cellphone “Sleepy, are we?" he teased you.
He could hear the ruffling of the bed as you turned into your side in the bed “Yeah, a little."
“You should probably have a good night sleep, you're coming back tomorrow, right?"
You hummed and nodded, even when he couldn't see you. “Are you on your way to work already?" your question was interrupted by a yawn. You were indeed tired.
A chuckle left his lips at your yawn, he could only imagine how adorable you looked all sleepy, yet you were still asking about him. He checked his clock before answering you “Probably should head out any minute now. I'm cuddling with Meatball at the moment”
You could not help but let out an ‘aww’ at the mental image of it "That sounds comfy”
“Meatball is such a good cuddler"
Your smile turned into a frown once you thought about how much hair Meatball shed "Wait, your scrubs are black”
“And?"
"You will be full of Meatball's hair!” your tone was one of worry, you usually did not care for cat hair but Jack's a doctor, you're pretty sure that's a health violation.
"Oh” he said in realization of what you meant "I have one of those sticky rollers thingy”
You chuckled softly at that "You mean a lint roller?”
“Yes, that thingy"
Without helping it, you rolled your eyes with fondness "I don't know how you're able to memorize all that doctor language but not the name of a lint roller"
"Doctor language is easy stuff”
“I beg to differ, I’ve never been able to correctly pronounce the name of complicated medicine"
“That’s cause you're not a doctor, Sweetheart” Jack's voice was laced with teasing.
A yawn left your lips, sleepiness taking over you almost completely now. “Yeah, you're right"
“Go to sleep, Sweetheart" His voice was firm “I shall see you tomorrow"
You hummed in response, your eyes already closed "Bye-bye, Jack”
The drive back to Pittsburgh was uneventful and peaceful, giving you a lot of time to think and reflex about the dumb crush you were developing for your very handsome neighbor.
It took you a total of one hour driving alone with your thoughts to get to the conclusion that you were, indeed, fucked. Of course you were, you had a bigger and softer heart that you would like, always falling hard for people that didn't feel that way about you.
Oh, you stupid lover girl.
The rest of the drive, your thoughts were swarming with plans of how to fall out of love with him.
Love? Who said love? Stupid heart.
Yes, maybe love was a strong word but, as said before, you were kind of a lover girl, so the months you had known him got you dreaming of being with him.
As said before; Fucked.
It was around noon when you arrived to your apartment complex, unloading your bags and things you brought from your parent's place. You were almost sure that Jack would be sleep, given the hour, so you decided not to bother him until later, only shooting him a text.
You
Hey! I'm home, let me know when you're awake so I can pick up Meatball.
:)
While you waited for Jack's reply, you took on the task to dust off and prepare a little snack, wanting to be as productive as you could be before going back to work the next day. Good luck your mom sent you home with a week's worth of meals.
It was a couple of hours before your doorbell rang, signaling someone was there and it probably was Jack.
From your place on the couch, you asked “Who is it?"
"It's me” came Jack's voice from the other side of the door.
“Come on in, it's open" You shouted, not caring for moving from your very comfortable place on the couch.
It was a few seconds before you heard the door opening, and there he was; Jack Abbot holding your chubby cat in his arm. Meatball was quick to jump from his arms and run to you, snuggling against your chest making you chuckle.
"Hi, baby” you kissed his little head "Looks like someone missed me”
Jack moved to sit across from you after closing the door, staring at the image in front of him with a soft expression. "Yes, we missed you” He confessed.
You tilted your head, looking at him with an inevitable smile “We?"
You were basking on both the purring coming from the cat in your chest and the warmth you felt when Jack uttered those words.
"We” Jack confirmed with a nod of his head "It wasn't the same without you around”
“I was only gone for a week"
"It was more than enough to miss you” Jack said almost instantly, his words sounding too honest for your liking.
Your only answer to his words were a smile, you did not know what to reply to it.
Shaking your head, you tried to stir the topic away from things that would make your heart act irrationally.
"How this little fur ball behaved?” You asked Jack.
“He was delightful, though he didn't like one mug I had"
You groaned loudly, of course Meatball had to break havoc on another house “He did not"
"He did” Jack confirmed "Let's say he looked quite pleased when it landed on the floor and broke to a million pieces”
You nodded solemnly "I know what you mean” with a sigh, you reached for your cellphone "I'll transfer you the money”
Jack immediately held one hand up "You will not”
“I need to atone for any mischief Meatball did, that includes paying you for what he broke"
He shook his head "I don't want your money, it was an ugly mug anyway"
You gave him a deadpan look, not liking the idea of not paying for something your cat broke intentionally “I must insist to pay for the mug"
"I don't want your money”
“Jack" you said in all seriousness.
"Sweetheart” He matched your tone.
“I'm paying for the mug" You were not willing to let it go.
“I will accept cookies as a payment, that's it"
You pursed your lips, not liking how he didn't want to let you pay for your cats misdeeds. "Money”
“Nope. Cookies"
You shot a glare in his direction. "I give you cookies because I want to, I don't like to see it as a bargaining chip or I would lose any interest however to bake them. There has to be payed with money"
He pursed his lips, his eyes showing that he was thinking about what to do next. “I will not accept your money. It was just a dumb mug"
"I don't care, I pay my dues” the stubborn monster in you was taking reign.
Silence involved your loving room for a few moments before his face lightened with an idea.
“Alright, I'll tell you what" he was trying to make his smile seem innocent but he was failing “I know how you can pay me back"
You squinted at him, carefully nodding "I'm listening…”
“You can let me buy you dinner" He all but blurted out.
Shit. He wants to take you on a date? You go, girl.
A frown etched itself into your face despite of your heart screaming for you to agree “Wouldn't I have to buy you dinner?"
"I know what I said. I will buy you dinner” His voice was absolute, leaving no room for negotiation.
“I haven't said yes"
"You haven't said no” His smile was growing bigger by the minute.
“You work nights, you can't buy me dinner"
“Breakfast, then" He was quick to solve any problems you were throwing his way. “or lunch"
Holding his gaze for a few seconds, you finally let out a sigh, making Jack's face to light up even more.
“Alright, you win. I will let you buy me lunch" your resigned tone could not be far from the real party that was going inside your head.
Jack was now full on smiling, making his way to you, stretching his pinky your way.
You looked at him up and down, a fake disgusted face on “What?"
"We have to seal it” He pointed out "It's the only way”
With a roll of your eyes, you sealed the deal pinky swearing.
He let out a satisfied sound before leaning down, his eyes finding yours “Stop looking pissed, I shall see you tomorrow for our date. I'll text you"
Before leaving he made sure of saying his good-byes to Meatballs, who poured happily from the attention.
Jack stooped by the door, shooting you a different smile from the ones before. This one was lacking any kind of teasing, leaving in its way a soft smile, full of expectation and… longing. “Bye, Sweetheart."
You matched his smile, no doubt looking foolish "Bye, Jack. See you tomorrow”
"I can't wait”
And with that, he left you alone with your cat.
Alone. Now it was the time for you to panic and crash out.
Sadly enough for both of you, you could not make it to the lunch. The chaos around you in your work was a bit too much, impending you to grab lunch with him.
You took a few minutes away from the chaos to call him, this was two hours before you were supposed to met.
It rang a few times before you heard the call connect.
"Hey, Sweetheart”
" Don't hate me” was the first words you uttered when you head his voice “I won't be able to get away for lunch"
You heard the disappointed sigh that left his lips and it made you feel worse with yourself.
" That's okay, we will reschedule” His voice was kind, trying to mask the disappointment. He was a little too excited about the date.
“I will make it up to you, I promise" You quickly reassured him, picking on your nails nervously.
" I know you will, Sweetheart. Don't worry”
You didn't answer, merely staying silent while your mind was screaming at you for this. It was mortifying, you really did want to go out with him.
His voice snapped you out of your head, taking you back to reality.
“Hey, you still with me?"
“I- yeah. I'm here" your voice was small, apologetic even. " I'm real sorry, Jack”
"I understand, okay. Don't feel guilty.” His voice was warm, caring. “I have a night off on Friday, maybe we could go to dinner after all?"
A chuckle left your lips “Yeah, okay. I'd like that"
"I'd like that too, Sweetheart. I'll see you later, okay?”
"Okay, Jack”
You said your respective goodbyes before hanging up, yet you still couldn't stop feeling guilty. You were expecting to grab lunch with him too much, but stupid work things that didn't allowed you were your first enemy now.
You spent all day at work thinking about Jack. Yes, stupidly enough. You didn't understand how destiny didn't allow you the simple favor of letting you go on a date with Jack. It was unfair.
…
Your luck was getting worse and worse with each passing moment. You had gotten home way later that you were used to because you had to solve some problems back at work.
It was a given that your mood was pretty bad by the time it was dark. You had wanted to see Jack before he went to work, but again, that was not possible thanks to your own job.
All you had now was the shining opportunity of a shower, food delivery and couch rooting next to your fat cat.
You were naive to believe it would be that easy. Yes, you took a long shower, dressed in your comfortable pj's and moved to the couch to put on your show while you waited for the food you had ordered to arrive.
Everything was going good, even Meatball was cooperative by sharing the couch with you, asking for cuddles.
Pity your luck had not gotten better since the start of the day.
When the food arrived, you got up from the couch, going to get your purse to pay for it. Little did you noticed that Meatball was already planning his escape as soon as you would open the door.
Once with your purse, you made your way to open the door, engaging in small talk with the delivery guy while he handed you the food.
It was an instant that you got distracted. It was enough.
Meatball ran out of the door with all his energy. The delivery guy— God bless his soul— tried to catch him only to end up bitten by your demon cat.
“Shit! Sorry, he's vaccinated!" You all but shouted while sprinting behind your very fast cat.
Meatball was on a mission, live a life of freedom away from your cozy home.
It wasn't the first time he tried to run away, though this time he was set on doing it right. He kept dodging you, making his way towards the stairs, you could not let that happen, if he got there, it would be a pain to catch him.
So you put your all into trying to catch the fucking cat, running after him with only socks in your feet. Bad idea. Very bad. And you knew it the moment your cat took a turn right instead of going straight in direction of the stairs, making you try to break sharply. It didn't work, your socked feet sent you flying forward, the floor too slippery thanks to the fabric on your feet.
You don't really know what happened after that, only feeling a sharp pain in your arm, that was twisted in a strange position that was not definitely normal, and a stinginess in the side of your face.
You were laying on the floor, disoriented while looking around. You fell down a few steps of the stairs, now laying on the stairs landing.
Well, shit.
It was a while until the ambulance arrived— that was called by the delivery guy— and the paramedics quickly put you on a gurney, letting you know that you had dislocated your shoulder and had a minor laceration to your face.
You were about to ask if anyone had seen your cat, you could not leave him alone, when the little shit jumped into the gurney, settling his little body on your chest.
“Ma'am, he can't ride with us—" A paramedic tried to tell you.
"I'm not going anywhere without him” You said firmly, not leaving any room for negotiation.
Apparently, your paramedics were a little too tired that didn't even refute, merely nodding before they kept going.
“Wait" You suddenly said, startling everyone around. “Could someone go to my apartment" you pointed out to the wide open door when they were wheeling you down the hall “And grab his harness? It's hanging from behind the door”
With a long, tired sigh, one of the paramedics quickly went to get it so they could get you to the hospital and hopefully, clock out.
The ride to the hospital was quite uneventful, it took three minutes before Meatball worked his charm— he was a little too friendly for a cat sometimes— and had the paramedics wrapped around his little paw.
The pain wasn't all that bad, yet. You knew it was matter of time before the pain would start killing you, probably thanks to the adrenaline of the whole ordeal.
Deep down, you knew you almost asked the universe for it. Why? Simple. You were bitching about your day and how unlucky you were, blah blah. Last time you were acting like that you sprained your ankle. Once again the universe was reminding you that it always can get worse.
You felt the ambulance come to a stop, most surely arriving at the emergency room where you would be drugged up and fixed. Good, it was starting to hurt.
You were wheeled down the ambulance and into the other side of the sliding doors.
Ugh, hospital lights are always too bright.
As soon as you were spotted, two doctors made their way to you, addressing the paramedics.
“What do we have here?" Asked a tall doctor, a little gruff looking but he seemed nice.
The paramedics were quick to present you, telling your age and a lot of things you were not listening that intently "— old female, BP 139/88, HR 112, RR 19. She took a fall down a couple of steps, shoulder dislocation and face laceration. Patient is responsive”
“And what about the cat?" The question came from the next doctor, who looked a little too carefree while holding a concernedly big cup of iced coffee.
One of your paramedics turned to look at him with a deadpan expression "She wouldn't let us bring her here without Meatball”
Not far away from there, a doctor that you knew well, was reviewing some labs from a patient, not moving to tend to the new arrival since it was Shen's patient, lifted his head in curiosity when he heard the name Meatball.
Jack Abbot scanned the ED until his eyes fell on your laying form on the gurney, Meatball laying comfortably in your side, wearing his harness.
As soon as he spotted you, he was moving, calling your name. "What are you doing here?”
Meatball was quick to demand attention from his favorite human with a meow. Jack patted his little head mindlessly.
"Meatball. Jailbreak. Stairs. Fall. Hurt” You explained simply.
Jack sighed, staring at you with concern but ultimately shaking it off while turning to the other two doctors. "Shen, I got her" He addressed the caffeine holding one “Crus, you're with me" He said to the tall, stern looking doctor.
"North 15 is open!” A redheaded woman called from behind a very big desk, offering you a friendly smile.
You were wheeled to what you suspect is North 15, quickly being moved into a hospital bed before the paramedics said a brief goodbye and left you in the hands of capable doctors and nurses.
Both Jack and Dr. Crus started working on you, checking vitals and making sure that nothing else was broken.
“How's the pain?" Jack asked you, checking you pupils.
"Getting stronger by the minute” You murmured, focusing on petting Meatball with your good hand.
“Push 1 m.g. of Ketamine for the pain" He addressed a nurse who quickly nodded on injected a liquid into an I.V.— same one that you didn't even feel when they pooked it into your arm.
"You're giving me the good drugs?” You asked him with a smile.
“Only the best" Jack winked at you, continuously working on the preliminary exams.
You allowed them to keep assessing your injuries by staying silent, Meatball laying by your side while he followed every one of Jack's movements. Freaking cat was obsessed with him.
They were talking between them in terms you didn't understand. Doctor gibberish. But ultimately Jack turned to look at you. "I'll order and x-ray to discard any broken bone but I don't think it's more than the dislocated shoulder. Head seems fine and you're responsive” He smiled at you with relief "But we'll have to take care of that cut on your cheek”
You couldn't see the cut but you knew it wasn't pretty. “How many stitches?"
"Probably three but hopefully it won't leave a scar” He reassured you softly.
“Good, I cannot look too bad, I have a date on Friday" You teased him slightly, already feeling the effect of the meds.
He hummed, crossing his arms on his chest, his biceps popping out. "Is that so? Must be quite the guy”
"Well, my cat likes him, so…” You shrugged, pointing towards your very comfortable looking cat.
“A good judge of character" Jack nodded in approval “I still don't know how you managed to get them to bring Meatball along"
You shrugged softly, your head resting tiredly on the gurney "I refused treatment and asked them if they could get his harness from my apartment”
Jack shook his head, a chuckle leaving his chest “You are something else"
A knock on the glass door interrupted you, Jack was being called away, he turned to look at you hesitantly.
“Go" You said with a smile “I'll be alright"
He nodded at you, smiling softly before walking out of the room, facing his fellow attending Dr. Shen.
“Your patient in Central 14 is asking for you" Shen slurped his coffee was too loud for Jack's patience.
“Alright, thanks" Jack started to walk away, Shen following him. “Do you need something?"
“Who's the cat lady?" Shen asked, being his nosy self.
"She's my friend and neighbor”
Shen's eyebrows rose, staring at Jack “Oh, she's that friend, isn't she?"
“What are you talking about now?" Jack keep walking, wanting for Shen to go away and stop asking questions.
“Lately you check your cellphone and smile when you're reading texts of someone. I'm betting she is the one texting you and making your face light up every time"
“Shut up, Shen"
Shen raised his hands in innocence, deciding that short conversation was enough to confirm his suspicions, before going to tend to his own patients.
Of course Shen was right, Jack has had a crush on you almost since he met you, always smiling when you were around or when he received a text, though he was not going to let Shen know how right he was.
Once Jack was free and your x-rays were delivered, he made his way back to your room, finding you snoozing off. The cut on your cheek had been already stitched up and Meatball was being a complete angel, not moving from your side.
Jack moved to sit by the side of the bed, when you heard movement you opened your eyes, looking at him.
“Hey, Sweetheart" He said softly.
"Hi” was your response, followed by a yawn.
“Tired, are we?"
A groan left your lips “You have no idea"
“Good news, we can fix you up by popping your shoulder back in place" He informed you “No broken bones"
“That sounds painful, though"
His expression softened even more, if that was possible "We'll give you something for the pain. You will only feel a mild discomfort”
You only hummed, already feeling too tired to speak.
“Who did your stitches?" He asked you, tilting your head to observe the work.
"Dr. Crus” you replied "I didn't feel a thing"
He nodded satisfied with the work of the stitches “Good, that's good"
"So you'll pop back my shoulder and I can leave?” You asked hopefully, really wanting to go home and sleep.
“I don't think so" He replied instantly, watching your displeased frown “I know your family doesn't live close by and you can't go around all by yourself like this, the shoulder will take a few weeks to heal"
You pursed your lips, you were used to be independent and Jack knew it “Then what does that mean? That I have to ask my parents to come watch me as if I'm a child?"
He shook his head "I could help you, take care of you” Jack proposed softly “That is, if you want. But for the rest of the night I was thinking you spend it here and I'll drive you home after my shift"
"I don't want to spend the rest of the night in the hospital” You grimaced.
"Well, you can't go home by yourself. I'm your best option right now”
You let out a huff, acting a bit like a child but you were not happy with the whole way your day was going.
He tapped your forehead playfully, wanting to see that frown turn into a smile. You shot him a glare, not entirely pissed with him but partly.
“You'll get wrinkles" He teased you softly.
“Good"
"Sweetheart” Jack leveled his gaze to find yours, his face warm and kind "I know it's not ideal but it'll only be a few hours that you will spend sleeping”
"I will try to make my escape” You murmured with a frown.
Jack raised his eyebrows skeptically “With the meds that we're going to give you to fix the dislocation? I don't think so. You'll be drowsy"
“Keyword; try”
Despite himself, he chuckled softly “Look, my shift ends in…” he checked the clock on his wrist "Six hours. I'll buy you anything you want for breakfast if you make it that long without trying to escape"
"What about Meatball? His zoomies will kick in any moment now” You pointed at your cat.
“We'll manage" He shrugged softly.
You huffed once again “You're not letting me win this one, are you?"
He shook his head, trying to suppress a smirk, knowing you were about to give in.
“Alright, I'll wait"
"Attagirl”
…
It was a while before they were able to fix your shoulder, and Jack was right, you didn't feel a thing. Soon enough, you were sleeping comfortably with the lights off and clear instructions you were not to be bothered.
Every one of his colleagues were shooting him suggestive looks, amused with the fact that Jack seemed overly protective of you. He paid them no mind.
Jack keep working through his shift, stopping now and then to check on you and Meatball— who was laying protectively on your chest.
When it was nearing the time for hand offs, he asked Shen if he could cover, wanting to get you out of the hospital and into your apartment as soon as possible, knowing you would not be happy if you woke up and his shift had extended longer, as it was usual.
Once he set up everything to go, he woke you up, since he had already taken care of everything for discharge, he guided a sleepy you across the ED—while holding also holding Meatball— to get you seated in his truck comfortably.
You were sleepy and still drowsy thanks to the meds but you seemed in good spirits, enabling in conversation with him while holding Meatball in your lap.
Jack let you choose the food, and you decided you wanted to eat in your own comfortable home, so he decided to pick the food before getting there.
Once settled in your couch, he took it upon himself go feed Meatball before preparing you a plate of food, kind of hovering while you ate.
“I can feed myself, Jack. You don't need to hover” You murmured, taking a bite of your food.
“How's the shoulder? Any pain?"
"I'm good, stop acting like a doctor” You chided him, not being used to be fuzzed over.
“I am a doctor"
You simply rolled your eyes while letting the silence setting in.
"Jack?”
“Yes, Sweetheart?"
"Thank you for taking care of me” You said, looking firmly into his eyes.
Jack's expression melted, becoming one of pure warmth. “You have nothing to thank me for"
"I do, you're taking care of me and my cat”
He shook his head “I am doing it with pleasure, Sweetheart. You need me, I'm here. Simple as that"
You beamed at him, he was not helping your feelings towards him. "I guess we'll have to reschedule that date, huh?”
“You kidding? No more rescheduling" He shook his head “I'll cook you something special and we'll dine here”
“That's not how a first date is supposed to happen" You pointed out.
With a sigh, he moved to sit next to you, on your good side. “Don't you know?" he grabbed your chin, guiding your face towards his “I do not care about the date, I care about you"
Your breathing stuttered, seeing how close he was. “But—"
"No buts, Sweetheart” He tsk, leaning in slightly, his eyes lost in yours before glancing briefly at your lips “We will have that date, and hopefully you'll allow me to kids you"
You gulped softly "Why not kiss me now?” the words left your mouth in a whisper.
He moved to kiss your forehead tenderly "I am a gentleman. I'll wait for our date, make it special”
Jack was looking at you with bright eyes, caressing your cheek, being utterly careful of the cheek with the cut.
That got a laugh out of you, feeling your cheeks warming up. "I can't wait"
“Me neither" He whispered, looking at you with utter awe. “I want cookies once you're healed, though"
"As many as you want, Jack”
do not copy, reupload, translate or feed to artificial intelligence.
Warnings: fluff, mild embarrassment, new relationship nerves
Summary: After getting locked out of your apartment with no backup plan, you reluctantly call your very new boyfriend, Dennis Whitaker. You expect awkwardness—maybe even a polite no. Instead, you get something that surprises you far more: a place to stay… and a glimpse into something that might actually last.
You didn’t even realize the door had locked until you heard the click behind you.
“…no, no, no—”
Your hand twisted the knob anyway, like maybe sheer determination would magically unlock it. It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.
You stood there on the front step, keys sitting very clearly on the kitchen counter inside, mocking you through the window.
Your roommate was out of town.
Your landlord wasn’t answering.
And your phone battery sat at a concerning 18%.
“Great,” you muttered, dragging a hand down your face. “This is great.”
For a solid five minutes, you paced. Maybe someone nearby had a spare key? No. You’d only moved in a few months ago. You didn’t really know anyone like that yet.
Which left you with one option.
You stared at your phone.
Dennis.
You’d only been dating for three weeks.
Three weeks.
Was that too soon to call him for something like this? Probably. Definitely. Absolutely.
…but also—
You sighed, pressing call before you could overthink it any more.
He picked up on the third ring.
“Hey,” Dennis Whitaker said, his voice warm and easy like always. “Everything okay?”
You winced. “Define okay.”
A pause. “That sounds like a story.”
“I locked myself out of my apartment,” you admitted, pacing again. “My roommate’s gone, my landlord’s not answering, and I—” You stopped, cringing. “I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t even be bothering you—”
“Hey,” he cut in gently. “You’re not bothering me.”
You bit your lip.
“I mean it,” he added. You could almost hear the small smile in his voice. “Do you need somewhere to stay?”
You blinked. “…what?”
“You can come over,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Seriously. I’ve got a couch. Or, uh—bed, if you’re comfortable with that. No pressure.”
For a second, you just stood there, stunned.
“You’d really be okay with that?” you asked softly.
“Yeah,” he said immediately. “Of course I would.”
Your chest did that annoying, fluttery thing again.
“…okay,” you said, a little breathless. “Okay. Thank you. I owe you.”
“You don’t,” he replied. “Just come over. I’ll text you the address.”
---
By the time you got there, you’d had enough time to spiral at least six different ways about this.
Too soon. Definitely too soon. What if it was awkward? What if you made it weird? What if he realized this was too much—
So naturally, you showed up with peace offerings.
A bag of Chinese takeout in one hand.
A bottle of wine in the other.
And the most apologetic expression known to mankind.
When Dennis Whitaker opened the door, he blinked in surprise.
“…did you bring a full dinner?” he asked.
“I panicked,” you blurted. “This felt like the right thing to do. I’m so sorry, I know this is weird, and I didn’t mean to just invite myself over, and if this is too much I can literally go sit in my car—”
“Whoa, hey—” He stepped aside, laughing softly as he reached for the bag in your hand. “Come inside. You’re fine.”
You hesitated for half a second before stepping in.
His place was… nice. Lived-in, but tidy. A hoodie tossed over the back of a chair, a couple books on the coffee table. It felt very him.
“I didn’t mean to impose,” you said again, hovering awkwardly near the door.
“You’re not imposing,” he said, setting the food down and turning back to you. “You got locked out. It happens.”
“Not to people who remember their keys,” you muttered.
He smiled a little at that.
“Well,” he said, grabbing plates, “lucky for you, I like Chinese food.”
You huffed out a quiet laugh, finally relaxing just a little.
“Good,” you said. “Because I got way too much.”
---
Somewhere between the dumplings and the lo mein, the awkwardness faded.
You sat cross-legged on his couch, shoes kicked off, wine glasses in hand as the TV played something neither of you were really paying attention to.
“You know,” you said, glancing at him, “this is not how I pictured our third week of dating going.”
“Oh?” Dennis Whitaker raised an eyebrow. “What did you picture?”
“Less… accidental sleepover,” you admitted.
He chuckled. “Fair.”
A small silence settled—not uncomfortable, just… quiet.
You looked down at your glass, then back at him.
“Thanks,” you said softly.
“For what?”
“For not making this weird,” you said. “And for… you know. Letting me crash here.”
His expression softened.
“Hey,” he said. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”
You smiled a little. “I’m going to anyway.”
He shook his head, amused, but didn’t argue.
---
Later, when it was time to sleep, you hovered awkwardly again.
“I can take the couch,” you said quickly. “Seriously, I don’t mind.”
“You’re not taking the couch,” Dennis Whitaker said. “I offered the bed.”
“Yeah, but—”
“You’ll be more comfortable,” he said simply.
You hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay… but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
---
The bed was warm.
And, somehow, not awkward.
You lay on opposite sides at first, a careful distance between you. But sometime in the middle of the night, you shifted closer without even realizing it.
When you woke up, it was to the faint morning light and the steady rhythm of his breathing.
You were curled slightly toward him.
And he was… still asleep.
For a moment, you just watched him.
Three weeks.
And somehow, you’d ended up here—safe, comfortable, not nearly as nervous as you thought you’d be.
Your lips curved into a small smile.
Maybe this wasn’t too soon.
Maybe it was just… right.
You nudged him gently.
“Hey,” you whispered.
He stirred, blinking awake, a little disoriented at first—until he saw you.
“…morning,” he murmured.
“Morning,” you said softly.
A small, sleepy smile spread across his face.
And just like that, the awkwardness you’d been so worried about?
summary: jake had a tough day at work — everyone has their ways of winding down, but jake’s preferred way of relaxing is… interesting. (see request here)
word count: 5,779
content warnings: smutty smut smut, sub!jake, dom!reader, reader is afab with she/her pronouns, excuse me there’s plot in your porn, begging (a LOT of it), mama pet name (reader!receiving), handjob, crying (from excess pleasure), overstimulation, praise, a smidge of mirror sex (blink and you’ll miss it tbh), cum eating, hand around neck (not choking), cowgirl, jake’s souls leaves his body, aftercare (jake!receiving, reader!receiving)
author’s note: ngl i don’t think i like this?????????? this isn’t a work of art or wtv so my bad yall
taglist: none yet! please fill out request form to be added :)
It was the slam of the door that startled you.
You had recently taken to winding down for the day by taking up a book to read. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy reading, but the common distractions in life often had you neglecting your hobby more than you would like to admit. So, naturally, you had to go out of your way to etch it into your schedule. Every evening, like clockwork, there was the click of the kettle. The light squeak of the kitchen cabinet protesting as you removed your mug of choice. The quiet ruffling of cardboard boxes holding all the tea bags you loved. the thick trickle of the boiling water filling the porcelain cup to capacity. The quiet thud of your hot mug dropped on your bedside table. It was a ritual that you commonly practiced, one that always preceded Jake’s arrival from work.
It was normal for you and Jake to text or call quite sporadically throughout his work day, him slipping away for a quick few minutes phone call or a short text prior to engagements. He didn’t have to, you made it clear to him numerously, but something didn’t quite sit right in his spirit if he didn’t make the effort to reach out to you in the midst of his hectic schedules. That day was no different — a brief text message conversation and a two minute phone call. However, it was different. His texts were shorter, more spaced out and disjointed than usual. His tone in the phone call was short and almost carried some air of irritability that you couldn’t pin point. Your boyfriend had mentioned in passing that it was one of those days, but you had no way of preparing yourself for just how tough his day was.
Jake usually made a habit of announcing himself as he let himself through the door; he had familiarised your reading habit and knew you were holed up in your shared bedroom — it was his attempt to not frighten you and let you know that he was not a burglar who happened to somehow have the key to your house. However, nothing more could be heard beyond the front door slamming shut. A frustrated huff that could be heard afterwards informed you that the door slam was not intentional. There was the shuffle of him slipping out of his outdoor shoes into the house slippers located at the front door, followed by heavy footsteps which grew closer and closer. Soon, your boyfriend’s body crossed the threshold of the doorway of your shared bedroom. “Hi baby,” you chirped, folding down the top folder of the page you were scanning and placing it on your bedside table. “Oh, hey love,” he murmured in response, offering you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You eyed him carefully as he shrugged his bag off his shoulders and slung it to the corner of the room, as he actively endeavoured to forget about it for eternity. Your eyes squinted inquisitively, now knowing that your mind wasn’t running amok with thoughts of Jake’s inexplicable negativity. As he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders, you decided to go straight for it. “What’s wrong?”
As soon as you spoke, his movements paused for a brief second, as if he thought he was doing a better job at hiding his emotions than he truly was. Jake continued to shed his outer layer without saying a word, the silence so stretched and thick that you thought he had ignored you completely. He finally responded after what felt like an eternity of no response. “Work was… a lot,” he started carefully. He didn’t turn to hold your gaze like he usually did and instead turned towards the vanity that sat across from the bed, slowly removing the few rings that adorned his long, slender fingers. Spying his face through the reflection in the mirror, his eyebrows were furrowed in clear agitation, jaw working through whatever unspoken carnality he held in his chest. “It’s not even like something happened in particular, I just feel… tense. Like I haven’t been able to really rest. It’s getting to me now.” His voice was gentle, despite all the physical attributes to his subdued anger. When he realised he could no longer stall himself by undressing himself from his outdoor accessories, he finally turned to meet your eyes. His eyes were soft, always were, but tiredness flickered within his orbs. He raised a hand to run through his hair, revealing the dark grey underlayer of his locks. Your eyebrows knitted together with concern. This side to Jake was not foreign to you, but it wasn’t common either. You hated to see him so bothered, so stressed, and not being able to take it away instantaneously. You opened your mouth, ready to spew a slew of ways for him to get his well deserved rest, until he spoke those faithful words.
“I need to relax.”
His voice suddenly sounded so small, so vulnerable and his facial expression suddenly loosened. Your heart pounded in your ears and heat raised to your face as you allowed your body to slowly settle. Relax didn’t mean what it meant to most people between you and Jake; it was a code word. Relax meant that he wanted to relinquish control for a few hours, forget about his responsibilities temporarily and, most importantly, submit. You thought you were mistaken, analysing any clues to inform you of such, but Jake remained determined. He stood very still at the foot of the bed, forcing himself to maintain eye contact despite every nerve in his body demanding to reject it. With a slow swallow, you took a deep breath through your nose and offered a slow blink. As arousal pooled in your most private place, what it took to position yourself where Jake needed you most took no effort at all. “You know what to do, don’t make me say it,” you drawled. Jake sharply took in a breath, as if to not have expected you to agree, but complied without a thought of hesitation.
As you slowly maneuvered your legs to hang off the side of the bed, the young man made his way in front of you. Your eyes never left his own as he sunk down, lower and lower, until his knees made contact with the floor below him. He fixed his eyes on you earnestly, eyes glossy with need for you. His lips glistened under the soft glow of the bedroom light in a dull manner from him licking his lips mere seconds ago. His venous hands remained on his clothed thighs, ever so trained and obedient. Your legs widened to accommodate his bigger frame while you leaned forward to caress your finger over his cheek. His internal battle was a quick and lost one — his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your warm touch, as if to be the one thing he had been searching for all his life. Your heart softened, wanting nothing more than to scoop him in your arms and cuddle the night away, but you knew you didn’t truly want that. You knew he didn’t need that the way you knew he needed you. “Sweet boy,” you whispered, taking him in from his delicate lashes, the dusty pink which colored his cheeks, the the similar pink of his lips. At the affectionate title, his eyes opened up once again, not unlike a dog being called to its owner. Despite the pang of arousal it sent straight to your core, your carefully placed expression meant that it was something that Jake would fail to read.
“Yes?” He whispered. In the state he was in, he was like a sponge, so ready to soak up any and all words that tumbled from your lips. The hand caressing his cheek quickly moved to grip his jaw, ensuring there was no opportunity to escape your gaze despite how tempted he was to. The grip on his jaw allowed you to feel his veins move under his skin as he gulped. “What do you want me to do to you?” you quipped. Asking him a question when he was far gone was always a treat — you could almost see his mind searching for the words to string together if you looked deep enough into his eyes. He gulped once again, before his lips parted. “Please, I want you to touch me,” his voice said weakly. It was then that one of the hands raised to smooth over your thigh, his touch still grounding despite your sweats that covered your legs. While you could earnestly say that it was a trick that worked on you, it didn’t mean that you weren’t displeased with his behavior. Your eyes dropped towards his veiny hands wrapped around your thigh, then slowly back up to his own. Paired with your expression of indifference, it was an unspoken interaction that held a dictionary’s worth of words. Almost immediately. Jake’s hand retracted and fell on his lap once again, eye contact finally broken as he stared down at his lap in clear shame. “I-I’m sorry, please baby, please,” Jake whimpered. Tongue in cheek, you were swayed. A single gesture for him to get up was all that he required.
He rose to his feet almost immediately, large hands clumsily curling around the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head, exposing his lean figure. His torso exposed the efforts of his high intensity career, chest and stomach wound tight with toned outcome. Your eyes followed a particularly thick vein which protruded from his bicep as his shirt slid down his arm down to the floor by your feet. Your fingers made quick work of his belt which kept his dark slacks clung to his slim waist and soon it fell limply at his feet, prompting him to obediently step out of them. The sight of his boxers were not lost on you and you didn’t even think to pretend not to look. While he wasn't fully hard, the weight of the bulge was evidence of a man who was at least partially erect. If that didn’t inform you enough, a small, dark spot developing around the end of his bulge was evidence enough. Above you, Jake sucked in a sharp, shaky breath as his hands dutifully clasped behind his back. With a single finger, you curled your digit around the waistband of his boxers and pulled it down to his feet in one fell swoop. Jake, ever expressive but obediently silent, just barely stopped a tiny, strangled whine from escaping his throat. Though partially erect, the heaviness of his thick girth meant that his cock still somewhat hung between his thighs when released from its clothed cage. Saliva accumulated in your mouth immediately, but ever stoic, you remained appearing unaffected.
Then, you swung your feet back onto the mattress you were previously laying on and positioned your legs wide and far apart. The young man followed suit; carefully climbing on the bed and situating himself carefully between your legs and his bare, wide back pressed against your chest. From your position, you could see how his eyelashes fluttered, his pink mouth falling slightly ajar as if he failed to take in sufficient breath by breathing through his nose alone. You witnessed the moment that the hairs of his arms stood to attention the second your hand wrapped around his bicep, running your fingers over his skin while your other reached over to your bedside table to retrieve a bottle of lube. you had no doubt in your mind that the precum that Jake was producing and would go on to produce would be more than enough lubrication, however you were particular addicted to how much you could fuck Jake’s brains out with your hands alone — the slick provided by the lube never failed to make his brain dysfunctional. As his cock, still ever hardening, drooled onto his thigh with effort, you squeezed a generous amount of lube onto your palm before smoothing the substance over his girth. Though he tried to maintain the same resolve you held effortlessly, you could easily hear the way his breath hitched and his body immediately stilled.
Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock while your other hand took a firm hold of the rest of him, delicately spreading the lube over his length. “Tell me about your day,” you murmured. The hesitation from Jake informed you that it was the last thing he expected to hear out of your mouth given the context, but he would be stupid to not listen to you, not when your hand was so soft, so warm, gripping him just right. “U-Um,” he gulped, gathering all the words he could generate in that moment. “We had training for the choreography for the new - fuck - comeback, t-the snippet I played for you the other night,” he explained steadily yet breathily. His cock adequately slick, your fist started at a steady pace, stroking him with ease. His head lulled back against your shoulder as he released a small whimper, his length twitching and his tip still leaking into the crevices of your lithe knuckles. “Oh yeah, that sounded cool. I was thinking about what the choreography would look like in the shower this morning actually,” you hummed, tone level and passive as if they were sharing a conversation over coffee, not while you were effectively taking his soul with just the palm of your hand. As you responded, Jake let himself get lost in the sensation. You could tell he wasn’t truly connected to the chatter, and so you let him for some stretched seconds until you continued to speak. “What was the choreography like then?” you cooed, twisting your wrist expertly as your hand moved up and down. Jake whined lowly, his hands holding onto your knees. “It’s really fast and uh…” he trailed off as your pace quickened. The slickness of your fingers massaging his shaft filled the room with the lead sound, whir your eyes moved from his pulsating length to the man’s distant expression. He wasn’t far off drooling, you could tell. “Was it hard baby?” you urged him softly. “Yes! Yes,” he moaned.
Your pace slowed ever so slightly so the hand that gripped the base of his cock moved to his weeping tip instead. Your thumb pressed against the wet slit and moved the pad of your thumb back and forth, stimulating his most sensitive spot. Jake cried out and pathetically rutted against your hand, chasing a level of pleasure that you knew too well he would struggle to handle. Beads of sweat rolled in on themselves and ran down his face and onto his neck, where you carelessly flattened your tongue to lick it up and attach your lips. You started to suck and nip at the crook of his neck while humming in satisfaction. Jake was helpless at this point, heady and whimpering your name. “Please baby, please, please, pl-ease - oh my God,” he whined. His voice was beginning to crack with effort, and if you flicked your eyes up, the tears welling up in his eyes seemingly glittered under the room’s light. “Oh darling boy,” your voice softened after you detached from his neck. The spot bloomed a brilliant red, sure to bruise adequately as the evening grew. “What’re you begging for?”
The hand stimulating his tip dropped down to his balls and you took them in your hands, gently massaging them between your fingers while you set an unforgiving pace with your hand stroking his cock. He was rock hard at this point, tip wet and angry. Jake’s hand moved to the sheets underneath your bodies instead of your legs to grip them in between his fingers, knuckles whitened from the sheer strength behind his hands. Only further moans tumbled from his lips, your words clearly just passing through his ear canal uselessly. With a soft sigh, you immediately stopped your strokes in favor of simply gripping the base of his cock, the hand on his testicles favoring just simply laying on his twitching thighs. Jake’s eyes immediately snapped open in shock, a short gasp leaving his lips. “W-wait, why?” he mumbled in shock, his chest still heaving. “I said, what are you begging for?” you enunciated once again. The lightness in your tone was gone, replaced by the aloofness you had adopted prior. His eyes looked around wildly, as if to still be coming to terms with the sudden loss of stimulation. “‘S just a lot… just for you to keep going,” he explained with a quiet voice. You sighed silently and pressed a soft kiss against his rouge cheeks as your hand built up another pace. The hand on his thigh moved to similarly grip his angry dick, both hands now moving up and down. Almost immediately, his head lulled back against your shoulder as a deep groan left his throat.
Your eyes flicked upwards towards the vanity mirror across from the bed and you carefully spied Jake’s features. The sounds falling from him were devastating, but the sight was even better. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he attempted to swallow down saliva into his throat that was rapidly drying. Your bruising on his neck was apparent, tying the image of positive sin up nicely. “Oh, you’re so good for me Jakey,” you cooed. Your praise was sufficient enough to draw a broken whine from him, as if to be agreeing without saying such. Jake was shaking now, all over, while the little pathetic shreds of composure he had remaining was actively being destroyed. You could tell he was growing close. “S-so-so good, I’m so close- so close, I can’t hold it,” he whimpered loudly. Sure enough, his cock was beginning to twitch against your knuckles. On any other day, you wouldn’t have had a problem with asking him to hold it on account of the fact that he told you he couldn’t, but you weren’t that cruel — especially when he had such a tough day. “You wanna cum baby?” your voice softened. The only thing that could be heard in the room were the damn near disgusting slicks of your hands massaging his cock, his whines which were dangerously near to sobs and the shuffling of the bed covers beneath the two of you as his hips twitched and moved up to fuck himself more into your hands. “So bad, I-I’ll be so good, I pro-omise, please mama,” Jake moaned. As much as you’d like to say the unexpected pet name left you unaffected, the throb in your sopping core informed otherwise. However, you put up a good front; simply humming in response to his words and continuing your pace despite your wrists beginning to ache in a dull manner. You took a long minute to respond, despite the pitiable pleases and fucks that tumbled from his lips. You enjoyed when he was this far gone, at the mercy of your words and your fingers. While his cock twitched angrily in your grip, you leaned close to his ear while fixing your eyes on the mirror across from the bed belonging to the vanity table. “You better look at how pretty you look in the mirror while you cum for me,” you instructed gently. Ever obedient, Jake forced his watery eyes open and fixated on the mirror to the best of his ability, pink lips still uttering your name and other slurring profanities. “Thank you - oh fuck.”
Just as the words fell from his mouth, his hips thrusted into your fists one last time, urging his girth to spill hot, white seed on your knuckles in strong spurts. Your speed slowed but never ceased, your eyes spying the way his face flushed a deep red. A strangled cry ripped from his throat just as his orgasm wracked his body like a tidal wave. While he took prolonged blinks, his heavy lidded eyes remained trained on the mirror. You peppered small kisses underneath his ear while his orgasm rode its course, until his devastating whimpers reduced to heavy breaths, until his quaking thighs reduced in intensity. His head lulled back against your shoulder as he continued to catch his breath. You allowed him to catch his breath for a short minute before speaking. “You know better than to not clean yourself up,” you remarked flatly. Jake blinked blearily, lost but willing to be instructed. Carefully, you let go of his softening length with one of your hands and brought it to his mouth. Picking up his head, his shaky hands held your wrist carefully, as if scared to break fine china, and slowly licked up his own cum, humming while doing so.The hand left on his length began to stroke him again slowly, causing his rhythm to temporarily halt but overall fail to disrupt his flow. He dutifully flattened his tongue and clean the back of your hand, your knuckles, the crevices between your lithe fingers. Your breath hitched just for a moment, a crack in your armour, and you were sure that Jake didn’t miss it. It didn’t take long until your hand was completely free of his spilled cum and his focus was fixated on your hand moving on his cock once again, sending sparks of overstimulation through his spine. “‘S too much, please give me a s-second,” Jake protested quietly, as if he truly did not want to complain but his hand had been forced. Without missing a beat, your hand sped up and you cut him a look from the side. “Are you complaining?” you spoke simply. Immediately, he shook his head, but followed it up with a soft no upon realising you would not be satisfied with a non verbal answer. With that, you continued to stroke his cock mercilessly, ignoring his soft cries. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes once again, but he willed them to not overflow. Soon, his length stiffened once again and you freed him from his torture just as his cries reduced to moans once again.
Once he was rock hard once again, you gently tapped his shoulder. That was enough instruction to cause him to shakily get to his feet, breath still uneven. You got up behind him and began to strip down, pulling your top over your head and undoing your bra. Jake almost immediately settled back down on the mattress as soon as you got up. His eyes were still absent yet still remained trained on your body which you readily exposed. Soon, you were bare. Normally there was some healthy yet small level of self consciousness you felt being exposed, but you were so wet that it didn’t even cross your mind. “Oh fuck,” Jake cursed silently. He watched you climb over his body carefully, large hands gripping your hips to steady you and make sure you perform the maneuver safely. “Baby, you’re so pretty,” he murmured once you had settled down. His eyes raked over your neck, your breasts, your bare torso, your core slickened with your arousal caused by Jake’s unwavering obedience. You felt his cock twitch angrily yet pitifully against your thigh, the remnants of lube smearing against your skin in a memorable touch of your past activities. “You’re so pretty too, love,” you spoke softly. Your hand traveled up to his neck and wrapped your fingers around it, not quite applying pressure but simply fixing his head to position itself in a manner where he could not escape your gaze. Although he usually had no issue with maintaining eye contact when prompted, the effect of your action is not lost on him; a soft, stifled whimper could be heard from his throat.
“How bad do you want it?” you quipped with a small mischievous grin. Just as Jake parted his lips to speak, you adjusted yourself so you sat directly on him, your wettened folds sitting snug against his hardened girth. Almost immediately you moved your hips against him, a sigh falling from your lips as your swollen bud became stimulated from the friction created with his veins. You could almost see the moment you stole the breath from his lungs simply from staring into his eyes before. The man who once knew exactly what to say was rendered effectively speechless. Still, he wouldn’t disobey you. “So, so, so bad. I need you please — you’re so soft ‘nd tight ‘nd… warm…” he groaned lowly in response. Your cunt shamelessly drooled on his cock to the extent that strings of arousal dropped between you and him when you raised yourself slightly. You gripped the base of his cock firmly and tapped the head of his dick against your clit with enough force to make you jolt. The grip Jake had on your hips tightened as he swallowed down a moan dryly. “Please, I-I need you so bad,” he urged once again. All strength had been stripped from his tone and exposed the true desperation hiding behind it. If that wasn’t enough of an indicator in isolation, the tears that sprang to his eyes almost immediately informed you of such. Finally succumbing to his soft, devastating pleas, you lined his throbbing girth up with your entrance and slowly slid down, working your way through the brutish burn of the stretch. A soft hiss left your mouth, but the burn was addictive and meddled messily with the pleasure of the fullness. Thus, you didn’t hesitate for a second. Jake, on the other hand, was trying his dear hardest to not cum straight away. The iron grip on your hip which foretold of a nasty bruise told you enough, but his quivering lip and the few tears he had been painfully holding finally falling down the redness of his cheek attested to it further. It was only when your hips fell plush against his own that you let out a breath that you weren’t even actively aware you were holding.
You took a long few seconds to allow your walls to scramble around his cock, rushing to align itself and stretch around him. You simply breathed deeply through your nose while your hand dropped from his neck to one of his hands on your hip, picking it up in your grip and intertwining your fingers together. That was enough to ground the both of you, where the sensation of simply existing in that moment was euphoric. “S-So… hah, tight,” he moaned wantonly. Almost immediately. you slowly began to rock your hips back and forth on him. A soft moan fell from your lips, your head rocking back. Jake leaned forward and raised his other hand from your hip and moved to cup your breast in his veiny hand. His tongue darted out and laid against the underside of your nipple while his lips wrapped around it, sucking earnestly while whining against you. The sensitivity in your peaks shot straight to your core, coaxing more sounds of pleasure from you. “You’re such a good boy,” you cooed between soft pants. You began to bounce up and down, placing both your hands on his chest. The burn of the stretch was still lingering, but the pleasure crawling through your veins made you not mind it entirely. Jake’s mouth fell open, guttural groans escaping his throat. The few tears that had rolled down his face dissipated onto the pink of his lips, the wet trail being the only testimony to their presence. You could feel the slight tremble of the young man’s thighs beneath your own every time you descended on his length, but that wasn’t enough for you.
You adjusted yourself to get up on your toes, moving your hands to grip the headboard behind Jake’s head. His eyes suddenly went wide, able to participate in what was to come, but the only thing that left his mouth was raggedy breathing. While your own thighs were quaking slightly simply from the previous stretch of his dick, your newly found strength enabled you to begin raising your hips and slamming them down on his own with reckless abandon. Your hips raised until just the tip of his cock remained nestled in you, but brought yourself down with a force which knocked the length out of both your lungs. You were punishing yourself in the best way. The new angle meant that the head of his cock jabbed your sweet spot with perfect precision, making you whimper. “Ho-holy shiiiit,” Jake moaned shamelessly. The way his cock massages your walls perfectly was mind numbing, but it was something you couldn’t fully succumb to at the time; not when your status quo was making Jake jelly. It seemed you were succeeding; his arms fell limply at his sides and he looked up blearily at you, his mouth ajar and only mere whimpers of your name falling from him occasionally. It was as if he was between worlds of being unable to bear your punishing hips, what with his lingering oversensitivity, and also not being able to get enough of the way your cunt weeped around him and squeezed his cock, threatening to milk him of all the cum he could possibly spill for a week. Despite how far gone he was, he found enough strength to raise a hand to plant on your bouncing ass, helping you as the burn of your position crept along your knees and thighs. You were barrelling closer and closer to the finish, quicker than you previously anticipated. Maybe it was the way the slick of your pussy coated him more and more, making his girth glisten under the low light of the room each time you raised your hips, or even your sounds becoming higher as you became a slave of your own making, but Jake took notice of it immediately.
With an unexplainable bound of energy, his other limp hand snaked around your thigh to press his thumb against your clit in tightly-wound circles. Your gasp was noticeable, loud, uncontrollable. “D-does that fe-eel good mama?” he groaned lowly. “It feels so p-perfect Jakey,” you cried out. Your pace began to stutter, failing to carry the same depth as before. Ever observant, Jake’s grip tightened on your hip as he adjusted himself to be able to thrust up into you, meeting your weakened hip movements. Despite taking on physical control, you knew he was still under your thumb at your beck and call. “Make me cum baby, I’m so cl-close,” you panted, one of your hands on the headboard falling to his chest once again, but this time rolling his nipple between your fingers. His whimpers remained loud, his voice even beginning to crack from effort, but his fingers and hips never stopped even as his own orgasm loomed. “Yes baby,” he responded quickly. You began to move your hips once again to meet his own, resuming the deep strokes you were subjected to before.
It didn’t take long.
Burying your face into the crook of his neck, your eyes rolled back as your orgasm fell in waves over your body. “Jaaaake,” you moaned in a voice that did not belong to you. Your body shook like a leaf in the wind above him, the hand on his chest slowly becoming your nails dragging across his skin. Similarly, Jake’s voice cried out shortly after you as his length began to twitch within your walls unloading rope after rope of cum deep against your cervix. He too completely slumped under you, spent and more than satisfied. Your hips rocked slowly and gently as he filled you up, causing you to shakily moan. The both of you said and did nothing for a while, still and throbbing, warm and glowing. The hand in your hip drew idle nondescript shapes into your lower back, your breath radiating pure heat against his pulse.
You soon moved slowly, body still shaky, and reached for a small clean towel which laid close to the vanity table. You crawled over to your boyfriend and gently cleaned his softening length which caused him to whimper. “You’re a good worker, Jake,” you murmured as you gently cleaned between his thighs. Your eyes flicked upwards to meet his eyes. The same eyes met you, so ready to listen but this time, a little more worn down. His hair was mussed in his face, slightly covering his eyes and some stray strands stuck to his forehead by sweat. His face remained flushed but was gradually lessening in its rouge. His lips were swollen from repeated licking and biting. His breathing still somewhat uneasy, he reached for a water bottle on the bedside table and flicked it open, taking several deep gulps. You grinned softly, knowing he was already anticipating your instruction to hydrate. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself, you know that.” He listened earnestly while you peppered kisses trailing upwards to his mouth: his thigh, his hip, his lower stomach, his abs, his chest, his neck, his jawline. You finally let your lips touch, soft and grounding. His hand raised to cup the side of the neck as his lips moved carefully against yours with care of a person that did not want to break you. He broke the kiss to take the towel from your grip and motioned for you to lay down beside him, which you did. Mirroring your past movements, he wiped in between your legs so gently that it felt like he was ghosting over you. It made you shudder. “I know, I think I just got… really overwhelmed today,” he mumbled. Tossing the towel aside, he took the water bottle he had just drank from and handed it to you. Just like him, you tipped it back and drank its contents, feeling refreshed. “At least I only have a radio appearance tomorrow… but… thank you,” he smiled gratefully. You were mindful in returning the smile as you handed him back the water bottle. “Anytime baby.”
As Jake sank down on the pillow beside you, the heaviness of his eyes were telling. You carefully untucked the sheets from underneath your bodies and threw it over the two of you. He immediately snuggled into the new environment, pulling you into an embrace. Your hand raised to his head to massage his scalp. His eyes immediately fluttered shut in response. As he drifted off, you paid attention to his body slowly falling slack around you, yet his grip on your waist remained firm. It was the gentle rhythm of his heavy breathing that brought you under finally.
Lately I’ve been thinking about reader who’s roomates with Simon Riley
This is 1, here’s 2 & 3
You cursed your procrastinating spirit for landing you into this situation. Said situation being the huge and weird man circumstances had forced you into living with.
All ended up well enough though, since your new roommate, Simon, was very particular with neatness and also very very reliable.
It was nice to know that if something broke there was someone willing and available to fix it and also a welcome relief to realize you’d only ever have to worry about your own share of bills and chores.
He was also just plain nice despite being so quiet(and odd). Although he seemed to communicate in mainly grunts and deadpanned stares, he’d taken it upon himself to drive you to campus most days, cook for you whenever he could and he even awkwardly comforted you when he noticed you feeling particularly down.
Your only gripe with him, something you found endearingly frustrating, was his inability to take a hint.
You’d made so many a pointed remark about things you’d like to do to him and vice versa, but somehow all you’d ever receive in return was a dumbfounded stare as he tried to process what you meant. The fool would then somehow make the statements seem more innocent than originally intended and due to embarrassment you’d never correct him instead letting out a frustrated huff to which you’d get confused but placating pats.
At some point you thought that maybe he didn’t have a thick skull and this was just a polite way for him to turn you down. But the intense stares he’d direct at you at inadvertent times, but most especially in the mornings when his eyes would zero in on your cleavage or whatever else he could glean through the sets you favored as pjs showed that he was very much interested.
So all was well enough but not exactly perfect, because Simon Riley was too dense to see that all you wanted was to be in his bed.
Anyhow I lowkey didn’t edit this as much cuz nothing will get out at this rate. Abandoned way too many lil writings like these cuz I got mad over my words not wording. I’ve got a continuation for this sorta
