#/ if you'd like something different just nudge me!
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Simon/reader
This is my first Simon fic so be kind! Check me out on Ao3 (DirtyMana)
Fuck.
Rage was a nasty thing. Where anger simmered, rage boiled over. Where sorrow lingered, rage consumed. Simon knew that this would bring nothing but pain, though that didn't stop the nasty sensation from creeping up his throat, paired nicely with bile and an excess of saliva. His jaw tightened. His fists clenched. He felt feral.
It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair that other men could conjure up flirtations so easily. Wasn't fair that other men could make your lashes flutter and your cheeks flush. You weren't his, sure, but maybe if he had the words you would be. Why didn't he have the words?
Simon knew how he felt. He knew he softened his tone around you. Knew he went out of his way to make you laugh. Knew his heart beat faster at the sight of you. But how do you put any of that into words?
This would all be fine if it was just sexual. He’d had his fair share of quick fucks, sure, but this was different. This went deeper. You deserve better than him, he knows that, but still he craves what he can not have. He fumes in the corner of the shitty pub. Rages. Watches silently as you brush drunken advances off, ordering a second round and swiftly carrying the drinks back to your shared booth. Your lips move but he doesn't hear a thing. Just nods every few seconds.
“Simon?”
Can't you see what you do to him?
“Simon.”
Can’t you see how he aches?
“Simon!”
He startles. He can’t remember the last time someone startled him. The fuck’s happening to me?
“Hm?”
“You okay? Been hitting it pretty hard.”
Your pretty eyes dart down. His gaze follows. Empty glasses that were once filled with a piss-poor brew are scattered around him. Shit.
“Guess ‘m just feelin' a bit messy.”
Concern dances across your features, a confused smile melting into a pout.
Fuck
“Do you need me to drive you home?”
You must be able to tell he’s about to refuse because your face hardens, insistence written all over.
“Alright big guy, let’s go.”
The car ride is quiet, nearly silent if not for your soft humming. The tune had been damn near intolerable when blasting through the pub’s speakers, though your sweet voice transforms it into something much more grand. His thoughts swirl as he watches the dreary scenery flit by, head pressed to the window of your car.
You’re too sweet. Too kind. It isn't fair that you're so good and he’s so bad.
It isn't long before you're pulling into his driveway, your headlights shining into the bare interior of his house. Price had encouraged him to buy the place, tired of Simon lingering on base when he should’ve been relaxing. He had yet to decorate, much to your irritation. “What kind’ve friend am I if I let you live like this?” You'd said it with a teasing smirk, gesturing wildly about. Cute.
There is a moment of pause, the car’s engine rumbling to a stop. You turn your head, presumably to say something, though you stop yourself. He thinks for a second that you're trying to kick him out, bid him farewell and leave. You really ought to. You don’t. When he reaches for his car door, you reach for yours. You loop your arm through his while walking him to his door, as if you could steady his stumbling, catch his fall. Simon breaks contact only to rifle through his pockets, pulling his house key out and sliding into the door. Again, there is a pause, a moment of uncertainty. Your eyes seem to plead. When he turns the handle he makes sure to give you enough room to slide past him, shedding shoes and coats in his entryway.
Already the room seems more alive, your scattered belongings somehow ushering light into his dark little life. Few words are exchanged as you help him shed his outer layers, the occasional murmur of his name and exacerbated chuckle echoing in the foyer. He catches himself leaning into your warm touch.
Fuck
You manage to untangle yourself from his grip, nudging him away from the door. He briefly considers making his way to his actual bed, but quickly dismisses the thought. He doesn't want to scare you off and, honestly, in his squiffy stupor, the couch looks quite nice. With his back the cushions and his arms outstretched he looks to you.
“C’mon then, pet.”
You blush, must be the lighting, and follow suit, making yourself comfortable atop his chest. It’s not rare that the two of you touch, though it’s the first time Simon’s been the one to instigate. If he could purr, he would. He’s getting lazy, not even trying to hide the way his droopy eyes trace the lines of your face. He leans forward a centimeter, an inch, two inches. He’s ready for you to jerk back. For you to scream. For you to insist that you always have been, and always will be, just friends. But you don’t do any of those things. You lean forward too. You close the gap.
Sparks fly as lips part.
Didn’t know it could be like this, I don’t think. Didn’t know it could be so sweet. So soft. Is this what all those lovesick, puppy-eyed recruits were talking about?
Thoughts slowed as the kiss went on. It felt like touching an exposed wire, somehow burning and numbing all at the same time, intensifying every feeling yet dulling any sense that wasn't focused on you. When you pull away, an unspoken tension seems to be cleared from the air, leaving only the comfortable warmth of familiarity and affection. Simon wants to say something suave, something charming. Simon wants to finally find the words. But his eyelids feel so heavy and you feel so warm and for the first time in his life, he knows he will sleep.
It can wait for the morning. I can wait for the morning.
#call of duty#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost call of duty#dirtymana
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This place was everything that she had always wished her homeland could become : a living, breathing city, with music playing around every corner. The people were like none she had met anywhere in her ( still very limited ) travels of the world. What had originally been a brief stop-over on their journey returning to D.C. had turned into a week long stay, with the team not quite willing to return just yet.
Milo had vanished twenty minutes earlier, or Kida had simply wandered away from him. Whichever was the case, she found herself in the heart of the city, simply going where her feet carried her. Or her stomach, as she found herself standing outside a restaurant that was practically buzzing with excitement. "...what an incredible smell."
@frageepruto for NAVEEN || sc
#❮ frageepruto / naveen ❯ ━━ ❝ when you find out who you are you find out what you need .#❮ kidagakash nedakh / verse.03 ❯ ━━ ❝ the light of atlantis shines upon us .#/ kida pls stop wandering off fdkghk#/ i hope this is okay for a starter! i didn't want to leap right into the middle of things#/ she has no sense of boundaries so she'll start talking to anyone jdfhg#/ if you'd like something different just nudge me!
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hmm idk this is fluffy but i feel like ghost would secretly melt every time his gf would call him ‘angel’
wdym i love fluffff, send me fluffy asks i love emm:(
cw: pure fluff, f!reader
imagine you and ghost are cuddling, nd you're laying on your back with his hands wrapped around your middle, his head resting against your chest while you're talking about random stuff. And suddenly, nicknames come up, and you realize that you always call him either Simon or Ghost, despite him using 'lovie/love, baby, sweeatheart' regularly on you. Well... most of them were spoken in private, away from prying eyes, but STILL.
You were in shock that you'd never chosen anything for him, and kinda offended on behalf of him, too. He chuckled at your behavior, saying he really didn't care, but you insisted that he needed something. So you started to list off potential nicknames for him,
"Ghostie-"
"Absolutely not."
"Yeah that's bad, umm oh!! You can be my pookie bear,"
he nudged your side softly, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement "Stop it."
"I'm just playing. I can call you love, too, yknow. You're my love."
You run your fingers through his hair, smiling dumbly at the way you feel his breath hitch, but then he's huffing "That's your nickname, love, you can't have it."
"But I do have it-"
"I have it, and it's for you,"
you purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, rolling your eyes "Fine." he hums in reply, and you're both quiet for a while, so much so that you think he's fallen asleep.
But then an idea pops into your head and your eyebrows shoot up, "What about angel?"
Ghost doesn't say anything but you can hear the sharp inhale of his nose, his hands tightening the slightest bit around you "Nah,"
you pout down at him, tilting your head to try and get a glimpse of his face, "Why not?"
"Just doesn't fit me, 's all." and you would have let it go if his reply had been different, but your gut told you that he was 100% serious,
"Simon.. Look at me," he refused to do so, so you tugged at his hair the slightest bit, and he groaned lowly, turning over so his chest is flush against your own, supporting his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, his nose nudging your own.
your fingers fall from in between his hair, down to his cheeks, to cradle them in your palms as you look at him "You're an angel."
Ghost huffs, "An angel that kills people, sure,"
"Well... in Supernatural that's the norm-"
"Fuckin' hell.." he's rolling his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips nonetheless.
You narrow your eyes at him playfully, "Rule's changed, you don't get a say in this. I'm gonna call you angel, and that's final."
"Great." a snort escapes you at his dryness, and you giggle when he nuzzles his face against your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your cheekbone.
"I want more enthusiasm or else it's gonna change to pookie bear-"
Simon leans back to fully look at you, his eyebrows shot up, eyes seemingly glinting with mock interest "Changed my mind, angel's growin' on me."
"Thought so,"
<3
The next day when you walk in the mission brief room (idk wtf to call it, meeting room??) you mumble a small "Hey, angel," and maybe your brain is still foggy from sleep or maybe you genuinely didn't think much of it, but Soap's cackle is immediate, "Hey bon, listen I'm lovin' the new name but take me out to dinner first, yeah?"
Ghost's dumb grin fades in a millisecond at soap's comment and before he's realizing what he's doing he lets his hand brush your own as you pass by him, and then he's meeting Soap's stunned eyes, "She's talking to me,"
Soap still doesn't know what the fuck is going on when Ghost turns to you, muttering a small "Hi, lovie," your way,
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this is cheesy but when spencer and reader start getting more comfortable in their relationship and they exchange keys to each others places, reader starts going over while hes away. just to chill because she misses him or borrow something or get something she left. but then dhe notices his apartment is a little messy and he doesnt have a lot of food in the fridge.
the first time he comes home to a full fridge and clean apartment he's a little confused, but when he brings it up and she confesses hes just sooooo touched and appreciative.
the first time he comes home and shes asleep on the bed or couch or wherever he just MELTS. like an actual puddle on the floor kinda melting bc hes just so overwhelmed with love 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
Spencer Reid is, quite possibly, the smartest motherfucker in the FBI. As an esteemed profiler, he notices right away that you've been in his apartment, from the post-it note grocery list sitting on the top of what's in his trash can, and a lack of dust over his kitchen counter like there typically is after he's gone on a case for a few days.
He spots 'donuts' on the list, and when he pulls the fridge open, lo and behold, there's a bag of mini chocolate donuts on the top shelf. He smiles to himself, giddily so, more than elated that you'd remembered an offhanded comment he'd made about liking them so much, especially when they're chilled.
He remembers everything anyone tells him, but people rarely stop to listen to his own words. So often it can be cast aside as nerd babble, so knowing that you'd picked up on the small tidbits of personal information he'd given you makes his seldom-fluttering heart do just that.
He feels a little bad that you'd stocked his fridge and ran, but he doesn't have to for long, because when he heads to the living room to drop his messenger bag there, and restock it with a different book, you're snoozing in his chair.
It's a recliner, one he'd splurged on so that late-night reading would be more comfortable. You've popped the footrest up, but your feet barely touch it, because you're curled up closer to the seat. Your head rests on one of the arms and is dangerously close to slipping off, so he kneels by the armrest, joints cracking.
His face hovers millimeters away from your own, your breath hitting his cheek and vice versa. He smooths a stray wisp of hair away from your face, leaning in to kiss the skin it had been covering.
"Hi, angel," He croons, keeping his voice as soft as humanly possible. He doesn't want to ruin this, whatever heavenly moment that the seldom-kind universe has decided to grant him.
Your lashes flutter at the feel of his lips on your skin, and you turn your face to lean into the touch you don't yet know is there. He can't help but laugh at the way you arch like a cat to be closer to him, and the breathy huffs fan out against your forehead.
His slender hand comes up to hover beneath your head, because when you worm closer to him, it slips off of the armrest. He holds your head up but you're finally starting to stir from the movement, and you lift it to blink groggily up at him.
"Spence?" You ask, like you're verifying his identity and not asking why he's home.
"That's me," He smiles, dimples puncturing his cheeks. His hair is slightly sloppy, frizzed and out of place from the day's hectic activities. At his confirmation you hum sleepily, resuming your cat-like activities by shutting your eyes again, leading with your nose as you nudge your face into his own. From the angle you're at his lips can only pucker to hit an awkward spot between your cheek and your nose, but the skin there is warm and soft from a facial mask he knows you used last night.
"Morning," You grumble, and he won't inform you that it's 7 at night.
"Hi, sweetheart." He croons, unable to stand up straight before you decide you want a hug. It means his butt hits the floor when you lunge for him, and he laughs as he tries maintaining an upright position.
"Oh- ah!" He laughs, eyes scrunching in a gleeful smile-turned-laugh when you knock into him. He cradles the back of your head, feeling you settle into his embrace like he's your new reclining chair.
"'Missed you, Spence." You mumble against the fabric of his jacket that's covering his shoulder. He curls his fingers into your hair at your admission, stroking briefly through the strands.
"I missed you too," He agrees, "I saw you bought me donuts."
"Hm? Oh, yeah, I did." You recall, eyes already drooping again, "We can have some for- for dessert later."
"That sounds like a good plan," Spencer grins, but you can't see it where you're nestled into his shoulder. He's waiting for you to get up, not because he doesn't want to hug you anymore but because he wants to stand and move, but when you stay firmly in place he realizes you're sleeping again, and that there's no way he's getting off the floor in the meantime.
He could wake you, tell you it's time for a late dinner and ask you to work on the eggs so that he can chop up the add-ins for an omelet. He could corral you back into the chair and take the bed for himself, read for a bit after getting changed. He could do any number of things to make himself just a bit more comfortable, but instead he chooses to commit his butt to the floor, surely flattening it for all eternity. He scoots back carefully until his back is up against the couch, so that his less-than-perfect core strength isn't relied upon as much.
From there he rests, disinterested in using his phone and too far away from his bookshelf to read. But he finds just as much meaningful entertainment in counting the breaths that you release against his shoulder, as well as counting the different possessions of yours he can see scattered around his apartment.
Your shoes, one. Your water bottle, two. Your sweatshirt, three. Your snack, four. Your keys, perhaps the most meaningful possession of all, the spare that he'll never regret giving you, five.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one-shot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanons#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid hc#spencer reid hcs#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid dialogue#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader fanfiction
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i like the way you kiss me || alexia putellas x reader ||
alexia likes things the way they are, so you try your best to do so as well.
minors dni, 18+, smut warning
you swore that alexia was doing it all on purpose. there was never any time for you to get ready whenever she texted you that she was coming over. it wasn't like you were trying to turn your apartment into some intimate love nest, but you would have liked to have a bit more warning than what you were getting. it was almost like alexia was halfway through the parking lot when she finally decided to text you.
tonight was no different. you had just gotten back from a rather boring tinder date when she told you that she was on her way. less than five minutes later, and alexia was knocking on your front door. it was almost funny when you opened it up, alexia dressed up in a black tank top and a pair of grey sweatpants that did nothing but accentuate the dildo between her legs.
"what if i hadn't gotten back in yet?" you teased. alexia didn't say anything as she strolled right past you. you rolled your eyes as you shut the door and followed her back into your bedroom. these visits were getting quicker and quicker. it wasn't necessarily that it irked you, but you wished that alexia showed a bit more effort. however, you'd never be able to tell her that.
alexia always gave you exactly what you wanted whenever things came down to it. she kept you completely satisfied sexually. that was what this arrangement was, anyway. she wasn't there to hold your hand or kiss you in the early hours of the morning. alexia came over to fuck you, and unfortunately for your sanity, she did it perfectly.
"i saw the pictures of that guy, there's nothing he can do that i can't do better," alexia said smugly. you wanted to say something to knock her down a few pegs, but you couldn't. alexia had a point. there was nothing that a past partner had done for you that alexia hadn't done better already. you were fairly certain that there was absolutely nothing this woman couldn't do in the bedroom. she had turned you onto things that you had sworn up and down you'd never do.
you shut alexia up the only way that you could think to, by kissing her. alexia pushed forward abraisively as she backed you up until you hit the mattress. alexia broke the kiss to sit up and pull her tank top off, knowing that any protests you'd have would die right there. it was almost scary sometimes how easily alexia could just take control of you with the simplest of actions.
"that's a pretty dress. why don't you turn around for me?" alexia asked you. it was confusing sometimes how she'd ask you so sweetly to do something for her right after a show of force. you turned onto your stomach and let alexia lift your hips up into the air. you were used to being in this position, alexia loved to see you on your hands and knees.
she lifted the skirt of your dress up as she nudged your legs open. alexia licked her lips at the sight of your barely concealed pussy. she wasn't sure what she wanted to do first, so she practically dove in between your legs face first. alexia's tongue peeked out to taste you as her fingers pulled your underwear to the side.
"fuck, ale," you moaned. alexia only pushed further, this time dipping her tongue inside of you as far as she could get it. you could feel your legs shake a little as she wriggled her tongue inside of you.
"don't cum yet." alexia teased you. you could feel a bit of embarrassment at being called out, but it was quickly overshadowed by a wave of pleasure. alexia worked you up to the brink of an orgasm before she completely withdrew from you.
"alexia," you whined at the loss of contact. alexia smirked as she watched you try and push back against her only to find out that she had moved completely off of the bed. you tried to turn your body around to look at her, but that was when you felt her hands return to your body as she grabbed your hips to keep you in the position she wanted.
"no," she told you sternly. you swallowed at what you would have considered a very sexy version of her "captain" voice. it was very nearly the one that you were used to hearing on the pitch as she ordered you around, but this one had a bit of heaviness to it that came with alexia being aroused. "stay like this. if you move, i'll make sure that you don't cum for the rest of the night. i'll keep you right there on the edge until i'm done, understood?"
"yes, ale. i'm sorry." you ducked your head down in shame. alexia seemed satisfied with your apology and moved back onto the bed. this time, you could feel the head of her strap-on as it pressed against your entrance. alexia ran the tip through your folds a couple of times before she pushed it inside of you. "oh my god, alexia!"
"yeah, that's right. scream out my name while i fuck you. i don't want there to be any confusion for your neighbors. i'm the only one who fucks you this good," alexia said directly into your ear. she was leaning over your body as she said these things to you. alexia's hips moved slowly, never completely exiting you with any of her thrusts.
it wasn't until alexia was back to standing up straight that she finally pulled out completely. you were on the verge of whimpering for her to come back when you felt her slam her hips forward. she kept a strong grip on your hips as she thrust in and out of you repeatedly. each of her thrusts rocked you to your core, pushing moans and all sorts of absolutely filthy noises out of you.
"ale, can i cum? please, i want to cum," you begged. alexia didn't answer as she continued to thrust in and out of you. you tried to wait for her to give you some sort of answer, but it never came. instead, you lost your fight as waves of pleasure overcame your body. your legs gave out, but alexia didn't stop thrusting until you were practically crying for her to get off of you from the sensitivity. "are you leaving?"
"i'll see you at practice tomorrow, okay? maybe i'll come over after," alexia told you. you stared at her sadly as she grabbed her clothes to put back on. she was ready to head back out the door when she finally stopped and acknowledged you again. "don't get pouty, we'll have almost all afternoon tomorrow. you won't be able to sit when i'm done with you later."
that wasn't what you wanted to hear, but you couldn't ignore the excitement her words had coursing through your veins. alexia walked over and captured your lips in a kiss, the lingering taste of you still on her tongue. beneath that, however, was the absolutely addicting taste of alexia. that was what you wanted, to have her kissing you all night long, but like always, alexia dipped as soon as she could.
"get some sleep. i need you well rested for tomorrow," alexia told you. in some twisted way, you were pretty sure that she was trying to look out for you. however, you couldn't read into it too much or else you knew that you'd be sorely disappointed.
#minors dni#minors do not interact#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso smut#alexia putellas smut#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader
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18+ NSFT MDNI. SHOWER ACTION.
You already know that Atsumu's in the shower before you hear him in it, nudging the front door shut behind you, heels falling off of your groaning feet. The first matchup of the pre-season has ensured that.
Muscle memory makes you step over the routine dufflebag he drops in the very middle of the entryway, shaking the strap off of your ankle when it catches. His sweater's on the back of the couch.
You'd take it down the hallway with you, but you follow the clothes like a roadmap instead. Toeing along, kicking his track pants out of the way with a scoff, rolling your eyes and wondering how he completely missed the hamper.
An athlete, he calls himself.
The shower turns your bedroom hot, steaming up the windows from the open ensuite door, the mirror dripping with water. You can feel the humidity ruining the hair you worked so hard to keep tidy this morning.
"Atsumu?" You sigh, tugging it loose and glancing at him through the mirror.
It's more so what you can see of him— the frosted glass of the shower punishes you mostly, keeps you to watching his blurry body turn, his head twist to your voice. You can see him turn to face the water again.
"Hey baby. How's work?"
"I'm gonna guess better than the game today?" You pick up his sweaty jersey with your foot, taking in the distinct yet familiar smell of sharp pines and locker room. "Judging by the state of our home."
Atsumu breathes out sheepishly, but it sounds like a grin. "I'll clean it all up, don't worry."
"I know you will."
"Yeah, for sure." He hesitates, humming when he rubs at the crook of his neck. "Maybe tomorrow morning? Swear."
You don't care when he cleans it up, really. Your eyes haven't left the shower.
Quietly, you start to undo your blouse, shrugging it off of your shoulders and peeling it off of your sticky skin. You toss it near Atsumu's abandoned shorts.
"Been in there a while?" you huff, blindly turning on the fan. "Hot as hell in here."
"Everything hurts," he groans. "Fuckin' hate coming off the off-season— not used to it."
You purse your lips. "Gonna stay in for a little while longer?"
It's quiet, aside from the shower running. His shadow moves, leans closer to the glass before standing upright again. His hands tease you over the top, combing through his hair.
"If someone wants to keep me company, can't really say no."
(He must sense your eyes rolling, because he chuckles and slips the door open a crack.)
You shimmy your tight skirt down your legs, stepping out of everything embarrassingly fast. Your cami ends up hanging off the sink and your pantyhose are in a ball, but Atsumu's waiting hand has you getting inside the shower as fast as you can manage.
Where he isn't drenched in water, he's painted by a thin sheen of heat, the steam of the shower dripping down his temple. His hand welcomes you first, guiding you closer so his lips can greet you next.
Atsumu rests a hand on the side of your face, droplets of water swarming down your chest like snakes. He kisses you sloppily, tongue trying at yours the second you let him, teeth grazing your lip when you pull away like he's begging you to stay.
"Sore, huh?"
His eyes travel down— over your chest, sternum, hips. His hands follow in the same order like a drill— tits, chest, beautiful, beautiful hips. "Forget I said anything 'bout that,"
"You should rest, really,"
"Stop teasin' me, it's just cruel," he frowns, "need you to give me a cure tonight,"
"Yeah? It's called eight hours of sleep and Voltaren."
He rolls his eyes, lidded with said sleep— the hand holding yours that pulls you closer and his half-hard cock between you say something entirely different.
Atsumu's hand gropes your ass, fingertips dinging into fat until you get impossibly closer, until he's basically against your stomach and you're basically just looking at his lips.
"You should—"
"Should," he emphasizes, murmured against your mouth as he kisses you again, chaste but lingering, "but this is what I'm actually gonna do."
"What?"
"You," he hums, tucking a strand of your half-wet hair behind your ear, blocking the water and hoarding you to himself. "Gonna be my cleanse."
You snort, fingers smoothing over his abs and down to the base of his cock, nails gently running over the dark trail of hair. "That right?"
"Mmmyeah," he says through a groan, yawning before he slots a hand in between your legs, trailing it up your inner thigh as you finally get him in your hand. It's the only place he's wanted to be all night, besides your bed. "Feel so fuckin' good, fuck,"
You sigh against his chest, tilting your head up to taste him again. Like spearmint, like the gum he must've chewed on the drive home just knowing you'd end up here.
"Shit, alright," he sighs, hips lazily rolling into your palm as you look up at him with eyes that make him wanna pass out.
"Gotta choose now— you wanna be on your knees first or do ya want 'em over my shoulders?"
You breathe out a laugh, sliding your hands over his slippery arms, over every muscled ridge as you lower yourself to the tile floor, kissing his hip when you get there. "Romantic, really."
Atsumu's body tilts your way, chasing your lips down, leaning into your touch as he brushes a thumb over your cheek. The kiss you place on his flushed tip is greatly appreciated— he lets you know it.
"Yeah, honey, I try," he breathes. He smiles so warmly down at you that it's almost like you're not about to suck him off. "Just wait until I get you to bed, yeah?"
"We both know you're falling asleep."
"Well, after we get outta here you will be, too."
"Mm, we'll see."
Atsumu barks a laugh, delicately running his hand up your nape before taking a stronger hold on the base of your hair.
"Oh, you're so on."
#what is this? i dont know. shower sex pregaming with atsumu???? in such a tsumu mood tonight wrote this in 20#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu x reader#atsumu smut#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq smut#haikyuu smut#kit writes
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Detective Oblivious - Various HSR Characters x GN! Reader
★ Summary: You’re best friend lately has been acting strange. Could they have a crush on someone?! You have to get to the bottom of it…though perhaps you can start by noticing how they look at you
☆ Characters Included (Separate): Gepard, Luocha, Welt, Luka, March, Kafka
★ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Fluff + Maybe a bit of Crack
☆ Warnings: None
★ Extra: Genshin Ver Here // Semi-Proof Read
You knew Gepard since the both of you were young. You weren't a Silverman Guard yourself but you definitely supported your best friend when he became one. And was so proud when he later became a captain.
Lately though, he seems to be tripping over his words when he's trying to instruct some new members, and you witness all of it. It's strange though. You knew Gepard was a great teacher and mentor yet when you decide to visit you see him stumble on his words and even get strange looks from the trainees.
You were talking to Serval who simply laughed and said.
"He's distracted by a certain someone~"
But who could be occupying his mind!? You could see Serval gave you a deadpan look when she realized you were actually thinking of who could be on her brother's mind. She wanted to smack you silly but at the same time. If her lil Geppie wasn't ready to confess she can't do it for him.
You stopped visiting Gepard whilst he was training trainees or anyone in fact. And he did just fine! That's what you heard anyways when Lynx nudged you smiling knowingly. You grumbled a bit as you haven't gotten one bit closer to finding out who your friend had a crush on.
In truth, you also didn't want to know. You had feelings for the guard, but at the same time you'd be able to know if whoever took his heart was a good fit for him. Though...eventually your frustrations got the better of you, and one day. When he was free and so were you...
"WHO THE HELL DO YOU LIKE!?"
You watched as a blush crept on his face and looked at you. It seems as though his sisters have told him about how dense you were to who he liked. He took a small breath before answering you.
"O-oh...it's um...it's actually...you"
When Luocha realises he has feelings for you and they are genuine. Like, he wants to spend all his life with you. He seeks you out. He starts by gathering various things you like and asked to hang out with you. Like a date in his mind but in yours it was just what you two usually did.
You didn't even realise he was trying to be more romantic to get the mood set for when he confesses...and he could see that. He found it both annoying yet amusing with how you seemed to play off everything he did as purely platonic.
He opened a door for you when you went into a restaurant.
He pulled a chair out for you.
He even paid for your whole meal, held your hand as you walked out and even gave you a kiss. Now the good news is that at the end of the day, when he brought you home. You realised he was acting strange! The bad news is...
"Do you like the waitress that was serving us or something? You were acting so differently and we always have that waitress when we go eat at that place. So you have to like her right?"
You state, almost proudly. Luocha could only sigh and pat your head before leaving a small kiss on your cheek.
"I think I prefer the person in front of me"
When you saw that the usually calm and collected Welt seemed to be acting differently. As well as Himeko and the other trailblazers (minus Dan Heng) giggling when he was talking to you. You knew something was up, but he always told you everything?
You consulted everyone on the Express who each gave you a vague answer about how "he's just nervous" and "you'll know when he's ready" until you asked March 7th. She excitedly explained that he finally liked someone before the Trailblazer covered her mouth and scolded her for revealing his secrets.
Lucky for them though, you had no idea you were the one he developed feelings for. They weren't sure if they should be relieved you were dense to his feelings or mildly concerned.
In the following days you've compiled a lot of people you knew Welt knows. This was quite the long list considering the people he's met and you spent hours crossing out names, adding names back in and considering if he liked them or not. You were almost tempted to check his phone to see if you can spot a difference in behaviour there.
Welt eventually found the notebook you were using as your "Detective Journal" and raised it above your head as you tried to retrieve it, simply stating you were wrong with each name listed.
"Huh!? Then who do you like?"
"Simple, the one person you didn't add to the list. Yourself"
How could you not notice the way Luka always tries extra hard in whatever he's doing when he finds out you're there? He begged a bunch of his friends and such not to tell you as he wants to make it special. Wants to "mega impress you so you'll go on a date with him" (his words not mine)
This was all fine...if it weren't for the fact that to everyone else. He was being so obvious he liked you.
Anytime he wins a match he specifically looks for you to see your reaction.
Anytime you compliment something of his, perhaps his hair style or the clothes he was wearing. He always wears his hair that way more often and buys more clothes of similar styles.
He's always so attentive to you, not that he isn't to anyone else when you're all hanging out. But it's clear he's listening to whatever you say with direct care as if the words you speak will run away if he doesn't.
It's gone to the point where Seele begins ranting to Bronya about it. Crying over the fact that you can't see the tell tale signs. It all broke for her when you tell her that you think Luka likes someone but you can't figure out who. And even though she said she wouldn't tell, she ends up clutching onto your shoulders and shaking you.
"HE LIKES YOU DUMBASS"
March 7th honestly acts similar to how she always does. Just a bit more energetic when you're around. But you knew she was still acting differently, I mean she's your best friend. Surely you'd know when she's different, even just a bit.
And you attempted to figure out why she's acting differently. Finally settling on having a crush. But who could she like? She's complimented many people on their appearance before but you knew she didn't like them in a romantic sense.
You began thinking to see if she did actually like anyone in a different way and you just weren't there to see it. Then again, you and her always stuck together. You knew everyone she knew, so there wasn't any point in thinking if she met someone else.
One day when you were in her room, she went out to grab something and you noticed a book poking out from under her bed. Pulling it out you looked at the cover
"The Best Person Ever < 3”
was written. So this is it! You'll finally find out who she liked. But at the same time...you didn't want to break her trust by looking through it. You silently put the book down and slide it back under the bed, but not in time for her to walk in and see the book in hand. She quickly ran over with a blush and asked if you saw anything, to which you shook her head and said no.
She breathed a sigh of relief...until you both noticed one of the pictures fell out and oh? It's you with a heart drawn around you...that's not how she wanted to confess...
Kafka finds out rather quickly that you're trying to figure out who she likes. Who she's developed feelings for. She knew that you knew that her behaviour has changed up a bit, especially with you. How you didn't connect the dots when she out right told you she did in fact like someone is beyond everyone.
But oh she loves watching you from a distance try to find out just who got her attention. Who the lucky one is to be the item of her affection.
She messes with you, she gives you hints on who she likes but keeps them as vague as possible so that she can just watch you pout in frustration every time she says you guessed incorrectly. She just loves watching how much you try to figure it out.
But as much as she loves that, as time goes on. She does get slightly annoyed that you've guessed everyone, even twice. But never guessed yourself. So one day she tells you that she'll reveal her crush. And simply raised a mirror to your face with a smile.
"Aren't they just the cutest?~"
Anyone else find it hard to know when someone likes them? Cuz I do, hence this idea sprang forth. Not all the characters included are ones I simp for but I thought it would be interesting to add them (I literally only simp for Luocha out of the characters included tbh nsoaorgr)
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr imagines#Gepard x Reader#Gepard x You#Luocha x Reader#Luocha x You#Welt x Reader#Welt x You#Luka x Reader#Luka x You#March 7th x Reader#March 7th x You#Kafka x Reader#Kafka x You#🎭 masked fools
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one piece | calling them by their names
synopsis : calling your boyfriend (one piece men) by their real name, instead of their nickname, as a prank.
author’s note : hi ghouls! welcome to my blog, i hope you enjoy your stay. this first post is short, but i thought it was fun, i definitely plan to do more like this.
monkey d. luffy.
he doesn't even realize you're saying luffy. he had been too distracted, thinking of what he would eat, as soon as the ship was docked in the nearest city.
"luffy, can you do me a favor?" you asked, focused on peeling the fruit. he nodded, before usopp nudged his shoulder.
"what did you do?"
"what?"
"is she upset or something?" he asked, the words dawning on the captain. you used his government, and not the name you had given him, lovebug.
why was he luffy now, and not lovebug? had he done something? impossible, all he had been doing all morning is thinking of the different meats he'd try-ah! perhaps you were in need of affection. it wasn't until becoming your s/o that he began to understand the need to give and receive affection.
stretching his arms, he pulled you close, taking away any personal space you had previously.
"y/n"
"yes?"
"please never call me anything other than lovebug," he said shamelessly, your heart warmed at his cuteness.
"aw, it was only a prank lovebug," you reassured, pecking his lips.
roronoa zoro.
he immediately notices, and feels uncomfortable. after a minor heated conversation, you mischievously planned to make him feel guilty, only as a joke, of course.
"zoro, you should come get some food, you know sanji won't save you any," you called out, making sure to use his birth name, instead of the name he grew to enjoy, darling.
were you really so upset, you'd use such a name, when darling suited him better. the term flowed perfectly from your lips, when speaking to him, he couldn't understand why you'd want to use his name.
"what did you just call me?" he asked, towering over you, brows furrowed.
"zo-
"i know we were fighting, but you know how that makes me feel, calling me that," he grumbled. he always struggled with communication, but with you, he'd lowly shared how he felt, which always managed to move you deeply.
"darling, i was only joking," you laughed, as he sighed.
"good"
"but i was serious about sanji, and you know luffy is only willing to wait so long, before he devours the rest”
usopp.
he won't notice immediately, but after a few times, he is in shambles. he was doing his usual theatrical story telling, and you had yet to spend any actual time with him.
"usopp"
"and there i was, everyone else was scared, but i knew i could save them-
"usopp"
"one second, honey"
"usopp," you repeated, nearly giggling as he visibly froze, realizing you had been calling him usopp, and not cutie patootie.
"excuse me fellas," he nodded at the surrounding group, leading you away from everyone, before holding each hand in his own.
"honey, is everything okay?" he asked, you seemed to be enjoying yourself before, laughing alongside nami, before she left you.
you were thinking of something to say, but the puppy dog eyes made you surrender quickly.
"it was only a harmless prank, my cutie patootie," you said, pecking his lips.
"you had me worried for a second," he said, scooping you into his arms, spinning around.
vinsmoke sanji.
he will notice immediately, and will be in complete distress. you were helping him cook dinner, when you decided to mess with him. while he was flirting all the time, he was a bit more focused when cooking, and that could bore you at times.
"sanji, can you taste this?" you were whisking the cake batter, while he placed the roast into the oven.
"sanji-" you turned around, his jaw practically hanging on the floor.
"what have i done? scold me, i am a wretched man, how have i upset my queen so greatly, that you choose to use such a name," he said, going to his knees, holding your waist.
"sanji, it was only a prank, i was only messing around sweet pea," you told him, as he stood, embracing you.
"the apple of my eyes, you are, i hate when you call me anything other than your sweet pea," he spoke.
"if you two do anything near the food, i'm giving both of you terrible haircuts," zoro spoke, making you both jump, while he walked away.
#one piece x reader#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#usopp x reader#sanji x reader#one piece x black!reader#— ghoulreads 🐾
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not like you — r. cameron
part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. sorry this took so long y'all, school's been kicking my ass :')
❝ get my car door, isn't that sweet?
then pull me to thе backseat
no onе's ever had me, not like you ❞
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
context: after a few dates with rafe, he finally asks you to go midsummers with him as his girlfriend.
words: 2.9k+
warnings: jealous!jj, bitchy!kie, jealous!rafe, alcohol use, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral m receiving, pretty fluffy, SMUT with a cute little plot bc soft!rafe is soooooo bf material
"so… i've actually been meaning to ask you something," rafe pulls his truck to a stop in front of your house and turns to look at you.
it was the middle of the night and the two of you had just gotten back from getting froyo, after he texted you asking whether you wanted to go with him to get some on his way home from topper's.
"what's up?" you ask, eyes scanning his face, which donned a look of apprehension.
was he nervous?
a chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down, hand fiddling with yours on top of your thigh. "well, we've been going out for a few weeks now…" he started.
"yeah?" a small smile comes across your lips—never in a million years did you think you'd be making rafe cameron, of all people, act like this.
"and you've met my friends," his eyes meet yours, blue irises twinkling. "and my sisters…"
"rafe, what is it?"
"i was wondering if you'd consider going to midsummers with me," he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "you know… as a couple."
you tilt your head to the side, and kink an eyebrow. "rafe cameron, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"
he shakes his head at your teasing, and playfully rolls his eyes, thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. "depends, are you saying yes?"
"i don't know," you shrug. "i mean, you're a kook, i'm a pogue. we come from totally different worlds. not to mention i just got out of a year-long relationship and…" you trail off when the look on his face turns sour, clearly thinking you were serious.
"oh, i'm just kidding," you chuckle, nudging his arm.
"you're not funny," he tells you, but you know by the way his eyes light up again that he's relieved.
"i'd love to go to midsummers with you," you smile.
"as my girlfriend?"
"yes, baby," you nod, leaning in so your lips are just hovering above his. "as your girlfriend."
rafe closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a way that make all the butterflies flutter in your stomach, as his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair.
"come inside for a bit," you smile against him, lips only leaving his long enough for you to get the words out.
"your parents won't mind?"
you shake your head, "they're sleeping."
—
“y/n!” sarah immediately comes up to greet you when rafe opens your door and helps you step out, making sure your dress doesn’t snag.
“hey, sare,” you return her hug, but your eyes linger behind her head to john b’s parked twinkie in the parking lot.
…what the hell?
“hey, y/n,” when he rounds the twinkie, dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dressed, and comes over to stand beside sarah, it clicks in your head.
“no way,” you shake your head, eyes shifting between them when you break your hug with sarah.
sarah shrugs with a smile, hand intertwining with john b’s. “way.”
“but i thought you were with topper,” you say. “how did-“
“a’ight, as much as i’d love to hear about my sister’s love life, we gotta go,” rafe interrupts you, hand sliding across your exposed lower back, making your head turn towards him, as a chill runs down your spine, your weight shifting from one leg to the other.
“right,” you nod, his intoxicating presence completely making you forget about sarah and john b.
he gives you a small push towards the club and begins to lead you inside, sarah and john b trailing closely behind you.
once again, you’re caught off guard when you follow rafe outside with your hand in his, the back garden of the island club decked out in twinkling lights and hysterias like it was pulled straight out of a fairytale.
"holy shit," you mutter, causing rafe to look at you with a smile.
"you like?"
"are you kidding?" your wide eyes meet his, as you both descend the steps of the back porch. "this is insane."
"come on," he nods his head to the side, and begins leading you toward his dad, rose, and wheezie. "you can meet my dad."
while the two of you had been messing around for about a month now, and you had even attended a brunch at the club with him two weeks ago, he'd been apprehensive to officially introduce you to ward. not that you thought it was a big deal—everyone in the obx already knew who he was.
"dad," rafe greets him with a smile; you glued to his side. "this is y/n."
"so you're the girl i've been hearing so much about," ward smiles at you and holds out a hand. "ward cameron."
you place your free hand in his for a quick handshake, relief washing over you when you realize he isn't the monster you thought he was—at least, if he was, he surely hid it well with that friendly smile.
"y/n y/l/n," you tell him. "it's nice to meet you."
"you too," he nods. "nice to finally put a face to the name. you kids enjoy yourselves."
"thank you," you reply, as rafe pulls you away towards kelce and topper by the bar.
"well, well, what do we have here?" topper smiles at the two of you and sips on a glass of what you assume to be whiskey. "is it official?"
"something like that," you smile back, leaning into rafe and tilting your head up to look at him, his eyes twinkling as they locked with yours.
"y'all want something or what?" the sound of jj's bitter voice pulls you out of your haze, when he walks up behind topper and kelce and leans his hands against the bar counter.
there was just no escaping him.
his eyes meet yours when top and kelce step aside to give him a full view of you and rafe, dressed in matching colors with your hands intertwined.
a smug smirk comes across rafe's lips, realizing just how quickly the tables had turned. though he'd never admit it, he'd always had a thing for you ever since he saw you waitressing at the wreck that one time you agreed to help kie with the lunch rush. a part of him always hated that jj got to you first, but that didn't matter now. because he was the one standing beside you tonight. not jj.
"just a glass of whiskey for me, man," he says, before looking down at you. "anything for you, doll?"
"i'll take a glass of wine," you nod at him, pulling your eyes away from jj. rafe was the guy in your life now.
"you heard her," rafe tells jj. "and make it white wine. the most expensive kind you've got."
you playfully roll your eyes at his antics—he clearly just wanted jj to know how much he liked to spoil you—but don't argue when he hands you your glass.
"i'll be back," you whisper to him. "i'm gonna go find sarah."
"okay, baby," he nods, leaning down to place his lips on yours. "save me a dance, though."
jj rolls his eyes behind the bar and scoffs, tongue poking at his cheek as he poured another drink for kelce.
you choose to ignore him, and smile up at your new boyfriend instead. "you got it."
—
"is this a pogue reunion i see?" you couldn't help taking a detour from finding sarah to walk up to pope and john b by the grill that pope was working.
"maybe for you," pope shrugs, and john b agrees, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you before taking a sip. "we're together everyday."
"alright, touché," you nod, a hand reaching out to bump john b's chest. "i didn't know you cleaned up so well, dude."
"look who's talking," john b says, eyes trailing up and down the baby blue dress you're wearing. "you look more like a kook than anyone here."
you roll your eyes and shake your head. "shut the fuck up."
"i'm totally serious," he chuckles. "you look good, y/n. happy."
you sigh, not being able to help the smile that spreads across your lips. "i am."
"good," he returns your smile. "that's how it should be."
"and what about you?" you tease, nudging his arm with your elbow. "mr. sarah cameron… how the hell did that happen?"
he shrugs, "i don't know, it kinda just did."
a small laugh leaves your mouth. "hmm. who would've thought, huh? you and me with kooks?"
"definitely wasn't on my list of things that would happen this year," he shakes his head, chuckling.
"where is she, anyway?"
"she went to go find you, actually," he says.
"damn, i should go find her then," you reply. "but text me, yeah? i've missed y'all."
half-engaged in conversation with topper and kelce across the garden by the bar, rafe's eyes focus on you, as you throw your head back in a giggle at something john b and pope had said, his grip on his glass tightening. his tongue moves to poke at his cheek when you throw an arm around john b in a hug, and then pope, the ugly green monster inside him threatening to make an appearance, as he brings the glass up to his lips and downs the rest of his whiskey.
"face it, man," jj tuts, refilling his drink when he sets it down on the counter. "she's known us longer than you. it's not gonna last."
"just fill up my glass and shut the fuck up, a'ight?" rafe throws him a glare. "no one asked you."
—
you enter the bathroom to pee after failing to find sarah again—where the hell could she have possibly gone?—the two wine glasses you had finally catching up to you.
"you've got some nerve showing your face here," kiara's voice fills your ears when you move towards the sink to wash your hands.
when you look up at the mirror, you find her standing behind you. "you're one to talk," you turn off the sink and reach for some paper towards to dry your hands, as you turned to look at her. "weren't you against all these events because they're so ‘tone-deaf'?"
she scoffs and shakes her head. "you're pathetic, you know that? taking jj from me, dumping him for rafe…" this psycho bitch. "then turning him, john b and pope against me…" wait, what? "i mean— seriously, y/n, are you really that desperate for attention?"
you let out a sigh to keep your composure—she wasn't worth the energy it took to stoop down to her level. despite what she and jj had put you through, you were happy. she wasn't taking that away from you.
"i hate to break it to you, but if the boys aren't talking to you, it has nothing to do with me," you tell her. "maybe they just realized who you really are." you shrug, taking a step towards her. "you're a shitty person, kiara. you can try and blame me all you want, but you dug your own grave."
"you—"
"lie in it," you cut her off. "and while you're at it, leave me alone."
you don't allow her to get another word in before walking away, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her own thoughts.
damn that felt good.
—
"hey stranger," you lean down and snake the arm not holding a glass of wine around rafe's neck, your hand landing on his chest, as he sat at an empty table with a glass of whiskey, sulking.
"done talking to your other boyfriends?" he asks, raising his glass up to his lips.
you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing. "what?"
"i saw you flirting with john b and pope," he says, setting his drink down on the table, as his eyes finally met yours.
they didn't look angry though, more like… sad?
"you thought i was flirting?" you ask, moving to sit in the seat beside him. "they're my friends, babe. i haven't seen them in a while, we were just catching up."
"didn't look like that when you were giggling and hugging them," his eyes avert to his glass on the table, his finger tracing along its rim.
"oh my god," you chuckle, half-amused by his behavior. "are you jealous?"
"why would i be jealous?" he shrugs you off, still refusing to have his eyes meet yours again. "if it's them you want, that's cool."
you sigh, and place a hand on his. "come dance with me."
to your surprise, he doesn't resist when you take his hand in yours and stand up to lead him towards the dance floor, as the band began to play an instrumental rendition of taylor swift's you are in love.
your hands lock behind rafe's neck, while his hands snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, as the two of you slowly began to sway along with the music.
"you're crazy, you know that?" you ask, fingers entwining with the hair on the back of his head.
"how's that?"
"for thinking i'd flirt with someone else when i'm here with you," you say.
"they've known you longer than me," he shrugs. "it's not that crazy."
"i guess,” you shrug. “but you’re forgetting something.”
his eyebrows furrow. “what?”
“they’re not you,” your lips pull together in a smile. "i mean, sure, i've known them longer. yes, we're friends, but they don't hold a candle to you, alright? no one's ever made me feel the way you do."
and it was true. your entire relationship with jj, there was always an uneasy feeling in the depths of your stomach that made you feel like there was always someone else—and it was right, because there was kie. but with rafe? he made you feel like the only girl in the world. it was healing.
"not even jj?"
you chuckle and shake your head. "not even jj."
"and how do i make you feel, doll?" his head tilts to the side, an amused look on his face.
a smirk comes across your lips, eyes locking with his. "how 'bout i show you?"
—
"shit, baby, what's gotten into you?" rafe smirks against your lips, your body rolling against him and your fingers entwined in his hair.
the two of you were now in the backseat of his truck, tongues dancing together while his hands roamed over your body.
you shrug, jokingly. "wine."
"damn," he muttered. "should get you wine drunk more often."
without your lips ever leaving his, one of your hands trail down his body to slide over the hardness under his pants, eliciting a groan from him.
he pulls away and shakes his head at you, the look in his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. "don't tease me, pretty girl."
"i don't plan to," you smirk, hands coming between the two of you to begin unbuckling his belt.
you pull away from him and he leans back on the seat, as you position yourself on your knees, hands working at his belt to pull down his slacks and boxers. his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your fingers around it, rafe's hand landing on your ass to give it a squeeze.
you slowly lean down to take him in your mouth, your mouth swirling around his length as you cupped his balls with your hand.
"fuckkkk," rafe groans, hand trailing up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "just like that, doll."
you lick up his length and swirl your tongue around his tip, making his head tilt back as he began guiding your head to bob up and down.
you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you gag, only making rafe hotter.
you release him from your mouth, and tilt your head up to look at him as you began stroking his length up and down. "you gonna cum for me, baby?"
"uh-uh," rafe shakes his head and grabs your hand to stop you, before grabbing you by the waist to sit up so he could untie the back of your dress and pull it off you, until it's lying on the floor of his truck. "come ride me, pretty girl."
he guides your hips to move over him, and you place your hand over his shoulders, your soaked center hovering right above his length.
he doesn't give you the chance to tease him, and immediately pushed you down, his entire length sinking into you and making you throw your head back.
you begin rocking your hips against him and he groans, one hand moving up to grab your tit.
"oh rafe," you moan, your orgasm inching closer and closer as you tangle a hand into his hair and lean against him.
his lips connect to your neck and begins trailing wet kisses, his fingers pinching your nipple and heightening the pleasure you were already feeling.
"so close, baby," rafe whispers against you. "you gonna cum with me?"
"mhm," you nod, barely coherent as your high washes over you.
you tremble when rafe shoots his load and keeps you steady, his head falling against your shoulder.
"did that answer your question?" you pant.
you feel his smirk on your skin before he picks his head up to look at you. "oh yeah."
"and how do you feel about me?"
he brings a hand up and pushes you hair back, eyes scanning every inch of your face. "you're everything."
anddddd that concludes this little series... i think. i've considered writing an epilogue but it'd take place several years after this, so let me know if that's something y'all are even interested in. but until then, i'm very excited to start working on some new fics, so stay tuned :)
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe obx#obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#outer banks#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe fluff#cute rafe#rafe being bf material#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#obx fic
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Flirting With Fiction ~ BC
⤜WORD COUNT: 0.8K
⤜GENRE: Established relationship, cute, fluff, couples being cute, chan finding out the reader is reading smut
⤜PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
The sun dipped low, casting a warm, golden glow into Chan's living room as he and you lounged together on the couch, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he lazily scrolled through his phone. It had been a day of lazy contentment, filled with shared laughter and easy conversation. But now, as the shadows lengthened, a curious silence fell between the two of you. Which was a little odd since you were usually the type to fill any kind of silence in the air.
If there was one thing Chan knew about you it was that you hated when it was too quiet in the air and you needed to fill it. Chan glanced over at you, his brow furrowing in confusion at your uncharacteristic quietness. He worried something was wrong, maybe something had upset you or maybe he'd done it somehow. Panic built up inside of his chest and he swallowed the lump in his throat, putting his phone down.
"Hey, what's up?" he asked, nudging you gently with his elbow. "You've been unusually quiet." He added a soft chuckle on the end to let you know he wasn't being mean about it, Chan didn't want to upset you or make you feel judged for anything but he needed to know you were okay. You jumped slightly, tearing your gaze away from the book you were holding in your hands, you shut it instantly and smiled up at him.
Whenever you opened a book the words danced before your eyes, and you could feel yourself slipping from reality. It was like a siren's call, luring you further into the depths of the world the book was created for you. Books were the one thing in your life that you had always used as an escape in life, the one place you choose to go to when things got tough, or just for fun. You'd read in front of Chan before but never got so lost in the pages as much as you had tonight. The book just had a grip on you, something you couldn't put down.
"Oh, um, nothing," you murmured, attempting to hide the title with a feeble attempt at nonchalance since Chan had already caught you acting suspicious about it.
Chan arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a mischievous grin as he leaned closer to peer at the book, you pulled it to your chest doing your best to hide it from him but it was too late, he'd already caught a glimpse of the title.
"Hmm, 'Forbidden Desires: A Tale of Passion'?" he read aloud, a teasing lilt to his voice, your body heating up as you heard it said in a suggestive way from your boyfriend. Within seconds the book was taken from your grasp and Chan flicked through the pages, his eyes landing on the different highlighted passages you'd done. All in different coloured highlighters, some sentences or paragraphs underlined with small written words next to them.
"Now, what might you be doing with a book like that?" He chuckled softly and you felt your whole body tingle with embarrassment as you attempted to snatch the book away, but he lifted it from your grasp and smirked a little. Chan knew you liked to read but he never would have imagined you liked to read something so steamy and suggestive,
"It's nothing," you insisted, though your protests were weak at best, Chan couldn't help but look through the pages as he kept the book out of your reach.
"Nothing, huh? You sure seemed pretty engrossed in it," he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement. His eyes moved back to the book as he read the passages highlighted in pink and instantly his cheeks began to turn red.
You huffed in mock annoyance, swatting at Chan's hand in a futile attempt to reclaim the book, he stared down at you and you bit down on your lip.
"Fine, you caught me," You admitted with a sheepish grin. "But it's not like I'm reading it for any particular reason." You mumbled a little and Chan raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk playing at his lips.
"Oh, really? So you just randomly decided to pick up a steamy romance novel?" You rolled her eyes, though there was a sparkle of amusement in your gaze. You picked up books all of the time, spice or no spice but this one just so happened to be one of the spicest books you'd ever had the pleasure of reading.
"Okay, maybe I was looking for a little... escapism," you confessed, your cheeks burning up so hot you were sure you'd be able to cook on them at this point. Chan laughed, finally relenting and handing the book back to you.
"Well, as long as it's keeping you entertained," he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, you settled back into a comfortable reading position, finding the page you'd been on since you hadn't had time to place a bookmark earlier.
"But next time, maybe just tell me you need some alone time to indulge in your spicy reads." He whispers against your ear, his breath catching on your skin making you shiver.
"Or I can maybe help recreate any scenes you want, it's up to you," He added as you whimpered, snuggling closer to him,
"Deal," You agreed, feeling a warmth spread through you at the easy familiarity of your banter.
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#skz#skz x reader#skz imagine#skz imagines#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagine#stray kids imagines#bang chan#bang chan x reader#bang chan imagine#bang chan imagines#chan#chan x reader#chan imagine#chan imagines
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Hey!
Do you have an Head Cannons on morning or night routines for the cast?
This stuff has been very fun to read :) keep making things! (No pressure ofc just fun to see people being creative)
MORNING ROUTINES W HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡
characters: vox, husk, valentino, lucifer, adam
warnings: slightly ooc adam (lets be fr this man does NOT wash his face)
VOX:
☀︎ vox wakes up at 5 am
☀︎ he says he needs to "seize the day"
☀︎ he probably got that from the time you watched dead poets society together
☀︎ of course, he clearly took the movie differently
☀︎ you'll wake up some time after him, to find him already working
☀︎ "you know, you talk about 'seizing the day' yet i don't see you really enjoying it"
☀︎ "that's because you hadn't woken up yet" he walks towards you as he pulls you by your waist and kisses you
☀︎ leaving his coffee cup in a nearby table
☀︎ "how many already?" you ask, nudging towards the cup
☀︎ "only like- 3, i think?"
☀︎ that man is addicted to coffee it's crazy
☀︎ as the sun rises higher in the sky, you find yourself looking for vark's leash
☀︎ ready for your daily walk to the park
☀︎ hand in hand, you stroll as you chat about nothings
☀︎ sometimes you don't even have to talk
☀︎ you simply find his presence comfortable
☀︎ and he very much finds yours comfortbale as well
HUSK:
☀︎ genuinely, you and husk could spend hours laying together in bed
☀︎ secretely, husk is one of the clingiest people you'll ever meet
☀︎ he's just that good at hiding it
☀︎ and at that moment, both of you cuddling in the bed, he knows he doesn't have to hide it
☀︎ he honestly doesn’t care the position, he’ll big spoon, little spoon,
☀︎ really just likes to be able to see you
☀︎ and he loves when you play with his fur
☀︎ sometimes, he'll play with the fabric of his clothes
☀︎ “husk that tickles stop,” you says one night, between giggles, as he plays with the hem of your shirt
☀︎ but truly, you enjoy his touch above everyhting
☀︎ he looks so happy and adorable
☀︎ really, he’s just obsessed with you
☀︎ if you’re happy he’s happy.
VALENTINO:
☀︎ valentino is the type to drag you to keep sleeping
☀︎ especially if you have something else to do
☀︎ one morning, you and him are curled up together in bed
☀︎ he’s scratching at the nape of your neck, playing with your hair
☀︎ he has your favourite stuffed animal held to his chest in a vice grip with his other arm
☀︎ you kiss his chest, falling in and out of consciousness
☀︎ that day you had a very important work meeting and you were probably going to be late already
☀︎ "val, please. you know this is important"
☀︎ he groans as he shifts in your embrace
☀︎ "at least kiss me goodbye"
☀︎ the kiss is long, soft, loving
☀︎ he still presses a million kisses to your crown before you’re gone
☀︎ he texts you nonstop
☀︎ before you're already there, you have 14 texts from him
☀︎ i know this is morning routines but let's say you come back early enough to find him still laying in bed
☀︎ still hugging your stuffed animal
☀︎ "seems like you love that thing more than me"
☀︎ "you know, i can't seem to get out of bed whenever this thing is near me"
☀︎ referring to the stuffed animal
☀︎ “really? why not, val?”
☀︎ “i think it's 'cause it smells like you.”
LUCIFER:
☀︎ waking up besides him is always a surprise
☀︎ he's probably the biggest fan of cuddling
☀︎ it doesn't matter what position you fell asleep in
☀︎ you could've been meters apart in bed, backs turn against eachother
☀︎ you'd still wake up with him wrapped around you in some way
☀︎ "hey," you murmur
☀︎ he turns around to face you
☀︎ "morning," he mumbles
☀︎ a big smile on his face as he just looks lovingly into your eyes
☀︎ you nestle closer, comfortable in his warmth
☀︎ minutes pass in comfortable silence
☀︎ his breaths syncing with yours, creating a rhythm of their own
☀︎ before you know it, you're asleep again
☀︎ you won't realise how or when it happened but suddenly you are alone in bed
☀︎ lucifer already changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, did his hair...
☀︎ to this day you still don't know if it has to do with his powers or if he's just incredibly fast
☀︎ all you know is that, after you're done tidying yourself up, there's breakfast ready
☀︎ if there's something lucifer loves in this world, it's cooking breakfast
☀︎ especially if he's cooking breakfast for you
☀︎ you enter the kitchen to find him mixing something up that smells amazing
☀︎ you hug him from behind as his smile grows
☀︎ "look who's up"
☀︎ "this smells amazing"
☀︎ he turns around to meet your eyes, holding your face with his hands
☀︎ "you're amazing"
☀︎ you cringe a bit at his cheesiness but can't help blushing as he places a kiss on your nose
ADAM:
☀︎ adam is definitely a slow morning person
☀︎ and even more so when you are with him
☀︎ the alarm will go off and he will immediately roll over and take you in his arms and cuddle up with you
☀︎ "adam!"
☀︎ you'd giggle as he buries his head in your neck and mumbles
☀︎ "five more minutes"
☀︎ you'd run your hands through his hair as he'd press a couple kisses to your neck
☀︎ you'll stay like this for about ten minutes or so.
☀︎ and eventually you get into the habit of setting your alarm a little bit earlier, so you can make sure you have time for adam's morning cuddles.
☀︎ when you are finally able to drag yourself out of his arms, you get out of bed and he follows a few minutes later
☀︎ you brush your teeth and hair in tandem
☀︎ and he often likes to nudge your elbow, causing you to smear toothpaste on your cheek
☀︎ cue his familiar giggling
☀︎ you take turns washing your face and doing your morning skin care
☀︎ whoever does theirs first makes the coffee for the both of you
☀︎ after lounging on the couch together drinking your coffee, you make breakfast
☀︎ you do most of it while adam 'helps'
☀︎ his way of helping often includes his arms wrapped around your waist as he hugs you into his chest
☀︎ sometimes swinging you side to side
☀︎ or squeezing you to make you laugh
☀︎ he is a food thief as well
☀︎ he can't wait until it's done he has to eat it as soon as he see's it
☀︎ the two of you eat breakfast together, often with your feet intertwined under the table, or your leg's propped up on his lap
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar imagine#lucifer morningstar headcanon#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel adam headcanon#hazbin hotel adam imagine#hazbin hotel adam x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#vox x reader#vox x you#valentino hazbin hotel#valentino x reader#valentino hazbin hotel headcannon#husk#cursed cat alastor#husk x reader#husk headcanons#husk imagine#husk hazbin hotel#husk hazbin hotel headcanon
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Matching Tattoos
Eddie Munson x reader
Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, DO NOT GIVE ANYONE OR YOURSELF TATTOOS AT HOME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO TO A PROFESSIONAL THIS IS FICTION AND A VERY UNHYGIENIC SITUATION FOR NEW TATTOOS, blowjobs, gagging, swallowing, friends to lovers, Eddie is so fucking sweet, porn with some plot followed by fluff.
Part 2
"Isn't she pretty?" Eddie grins, producing the homemade tattoo gun from under his bed. Pretty was a very strong word. More like a clump of sketchy looking metal held together with even sketchier looking screws and rubber bands.
You scoff. "If you think she's pretty I'm seriously starting to question your taste, Munson. Going from Chrissy Cunningham to this? That's quite a decline."
Eddie rolls his eyes.
"You're never going to drop that are you? Chrissy was a 5 minute crush, besides, she's been dating that douchebag Jason Carver for ages now." Eddie waves his hand to signify his distate. "Anyway, nowadays my taste is more...refined, thank you very much. Hence why I am going through the world's longest dry spell at the moment. Now shut up, and get on the bed. We're doing this." He buzzes the tattoo gun for extra effect.
"Yessir." Giving him a cheeky salute, you lie down on Eddie's bed as he messes around with the ink, and something crinkles beneath you. Your brow furrows as you dig underneath you, and you pull out a dog eared magazine. You flick through the pages, your cheeks flushing. "Jesus, Eddie, resorting to porno mags? You really are suffering." You throw the crusty magazine at him, laughing. Eddie quickly kicks it under his bed.
"What? I got needs, Y/N, and its not exactly like there's a line of babes wanting to fuck the town freak."
"Not even with the whole struggling rockstar vibe you've got going on?" You cock your eyebrow, shooting him a smirk.
"Right? I should be drowning in pussy," he grins, and you roll your eyes. "Still want it on your hip, right?"
"As long as it can be covered by a bathing suit so my parents don't murder me, have at it."
Eddie gulps as you unbutton your jeans, shimmying your hips out of them and exposing your simple black panties to him. You then roll your shirt up your stomach and tie it in a knot to prevent it from getting in his way.
It wasn't like he hadn't seen you like this before, he'd seen you in a bathing suit hundreds of times but this....this was different. This was you, half naked, on his bed. You that Eddie had been harbouring a crush on for a good year or so now, hence the dry spell. He didn't want anyone else, he wanted you, his best friend, his partner in crime, his girl. Nobody in this deadbeat town even came close, not anymore.
He was ashamed to even admit that the magazine you'd fished out from his bed was merely a distraction tool. So many nights he'd fucked his fist thinking of you, the way your body glistened in the sun that time when you sunbathed out the back of his trailer in that black bikini, the way your breasts threatened to spill out of the cups and your ass peeked out from the bottoms that left very little to the imagination.
He had to get you out of his head. It was sick, it was wrong, you were his best friend. His beautiful, funny, smart, sexy as hell best friend. If he had to beat off to some random chick in a disgustingly cheap porno magazine just to stop him thinking about you, so be it.
But honestly, when you'd asked him to give you a tattoo on your hip, the magazines just weren't doing it anymore.
Eddie cleared his throat. "You sure about this Y/N?"
"Eddie, shut up and ink me already," you smile, playfully nudging him with your foot. "You drew it up, yeah?"
"One bat comin' at ya," Eddie grins, showing you the little stencil he'd drawn. It was an exact copy of the largest bat out of the swarm on his arm. "You know we can never not be friends after this right? Matching tattoos is a pretty big commitment."
"Until death do us part." You teased.
"I fuckin' do," Eddie kissed your hand, making you snort. Your friendship had always been like this, flirty to the point where people were always wondering if you were together or not. But that's all it ever was, all bark and no bite per say. "Can you move your, uh, your-"
"Panties, Eddie? For someone who used the phrase 'drowning in pussy' earlier I refuse to believe 'panties' gets you all flustered." You tease, pushing down your panties and exposing your skin to him.
Eddie can feel his palms sweating as your panties slip dangerously low, almost exposing that dip between your legs. His mouth is as dry as the fucking desert when he catches a glimpse of your smooth, soft skin. God, he wants to put his mouth there. He wants to put his mouth all over you actually. He coughs once more.
"Right, let's do this, pretty girl." He carefully cleans the area you want tattooed with some antiseptic liquid before laying the stencil down, carefully pulling it away to reveal the outline on your skin. "Looks metal, babe, you ready?"
You nod, clutching his comforter in one hand as he brings the needle to your skin and the buzzing starts. You bite your lip as you feel the needle meet your flesh, a searing burning pain but not too unbearable.
As he drags the needle across your soft skin, Eddie is sweating. He's so close to a part of you he desperately wants to explore, to kiss and lick and make you scream his name until you're sobbing in ecstasy. But he can't. Why would someone like you ever be interested in the town freak? The nerdy metalhead that spends his free time planning extensive D&D campaigns, or playing in shitty dive bars to a crowd of not even 10 people didn't compare to the jocks who went to endless parties, or did something better than spending their spring break in their trailer getting high and watching horror movies.
"Whatcha thinking about, handsome?" Your sweet, sweet voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he looks up at you. God, you look like a fucking angel right now, all draped across his bed with your hair over his pillow. He knows he'll be able to smell the shampoo you use on that later.
Eddie, always one to almost never lose his cool, shoots you a cheeky grin.
"Thinkin' about how I could tattoo my name on you, pretty Make sure everyone knows who's girl you are."
"Everyone already knows, I've only got eyes for you, dungeon master."
Fuck, he wishes you wouldn't call him that. Not like this anyway. Not with this amount clothes on. Or not on.
"Less of the dirty talk, you. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growls, wiping the residual ink off your skin, refilling and continuing his work. You try to ignore the throbbing in your panties and how good his hands feel on your bare skin.
-
35 minutes later, it's Eddie's turn. After cleaning and covering your new artwork, you get yourself dressed (much to Eddie's disappointment) and turn to him with a wicked grin.
"Pants off, Munson."
"Yes, ma'am." Copying your salute from earlier, he unbuckles his handcuff belt and undoes his jeans, shimmying out of them and tossing them somewhere in his room. He also pulls off his Hellfire shirt. You raise an eyebrow. "What? Can't risk anything happening to it, I gotta wait another week before I can get more!"
"Alright, nerd, lie down." You smile, rummaging around in your bag for the little design you'd drawn up for him. You pass the small design of the devil from the Hellfire logo to him and he grins.
"That's metal."
"So metal that nobody is gonna see it unless they're going down on you."
"Yeah, but we'll know it's there. It'll be like our dirty little secret, Y/N."
"Hot," you laugh as Eddie lies down, putting his arms behind his head. He tilts his head down towards his hips.
"Get to work, missy."
You'd been practising on that gross fake skin stuff in preparation for this, but nothing could have prepared you for touching Eddie...here. His skin was so soft and warm, and he smelled so good. A mix of his old cologne he'd gotten from you last Christmas, smoke and a hint of sweat. It was so Eddie, it made your heart flutter and somewhere else flutter too.
You think Eddie takes the needle like a champ, but when you look up at him about 20 minutes later, his eyes are screwed shut.
"Hurt that much?" You grin and he shakes his head, eyes still closed.
"Nah, babe, honestly, I'm...fine." He hesitates. You stop for a second, tilting your head to the side in question. You go to wipe off some of the excess ink and your arm brushes over his boxers accidentally.
Oh.
"Eddie, are you-"
"Shut up, shut up, shut up, don't talk about it." Eddie chokes out, his cheeks flushing. His loose plaid boxers had done a good job of hiding his semi, but when you'd brushed against it, it was game over.
Eddie was hard.
"I-is this like a normal reaction to getting tattooed, or...?" You stutter, your mouth feeling dryer than fucking Gandhi's flip flop.
Eddie sighs, throwing an arm over his face.
"No, it's a normal reaction to a very, very pretty girl hovering near my dick, babe." He says in a small voice. Your cheeks flush as you place the tattoo gun down on his bedside table.
"O-oh. Well, do you want me t-to stop? Or I could help with...I could help you with that?"
Eddie groans behind his arm.
"Babe, don't tease me like that, that's just cruel. 'Sides, wouldn't you feel...weird jerking me off?"
Your mind had not gone to jerking him off. In fact, it had gone a step further.
"Oh, I-I wasn't...I was gonna, um-"
"Blow me?!" Eddie throws his arm off of his face and stares at you, and you pretend you don't notice his cock jumping in his boxers. "You, my super hot best friend Y/N, are seriously offering to suck my dick right now?!"
"I-I’m sorry-"
"Sorry?! What the fuck are you sorry for?! Making all my wet dreams come true?!"
You giggle. "Eddie, shut up."
"No, I'm serious, Y/N, you've been in here-" he sits up and taps the side of his head "-doing some nasty shit for so fucking long. Why do you think I'm jacking off to shitty porno mags instead of chasing pussy?"
You're silent, a slow smile spreading across your face as your hand creeps over his crotch, gently palming at his cock which jumps in your hand.
"Well, lucky for you, dungeon master, you've also been the star of my wet dreams."
Eddie falls back onto his pillows with a groan. "Fuck, I can't believe this is actually fucking happening."
"Tell me what you want to do to me, Eds." Your voice is low and sultry as you give him a squeeze. He looks at you, tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips. You tug at his boxers, giving him a questioning look. He grabs your wrist.
"Are you sure about this, Y/N? Cos if it's a choice between getting off, or keeping you as my best friend, I'd rather keep you babe. Blue balls and all."
You smile softly; Eddie was too sweet for his own good. It was one of the things you loved most about him.
"What about if you get to get off and still keep me?" You say, pushing his hand away and slowly pulling his boxers down. His cock springs out, slapping against his lower stomach. He was long and thick, uncut with an upwards curve that the very sighmade your pussy clench. You huff out an exasperated laugh. "Holy shit, Eds."
"Good 'holy shit', or bad 'holy shit'?" Eddie's cheeks are flushed as he smirks.
"You know the answer to that." You wrap your hand around his cock, making him hiss as you stroke the silky skin. You pull the foreskin down to expose his angry looking, reddish purple mushroom head, and a drop of precum blurts out. You continue to stroke him, eyes fixed on his face.
"Fuck, stop looking at me like that," Eddie groans, his cock twitching in your hand. "'S too much."
"Like what?" You smirk, straddling his thighs. He can't answer you, any sort of answer immediately wiped from his brain as you lower your mouth to the head of his cock and lick, tasting him for the first time. His hips buck, forcing more of his cock into your mouth, making you gag out of surprise.
"Shit, sorry, sorry," Eddie gasps. "Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good, don't be surprised if I come like, super quick, okay? Been thinking about this for so fucking long you have no idea. And you look....God, you looking so fucking beautiful right now."
You shoot him a soft smile, pressing a kiss to his cock before taking him into your mouth properly, swallowing as much of him down as you can.
Eddie's hand comes to your hair, gently stroking it as you bob your head up and down. The flavour of him blooms over your tongue and makes you hum in appreciation.
"Fuck, babe, your mouth...shit, it's so fucking good, taking my cock so well..."
You pull up and suckle the head, flicking your tongue over the slit. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me, sweetheart."
You smirk, pulling back and pursing your lips, allowing a glob of spit to fall from your mouth onto the head, dribbling down the shaft. Eddie falls back onto the pillows. "That's it, you've killed me, you're blowing a dead man, baby."
"A dead man who's gonna come in my mouth, right?" You mumble, jerking him quickly, your spit allowing your hand to slide over his shaft with ease. Eddie keens, his teeth gritted.
"You can't say shit like that, angel, I'm about ready to blow as it is."
"Do it, I want it." You reply, taking his cock into the warmth of your mouth once more. You allow him to fuck your face, both hands now resting on the back of your head as you swallowed around him.
"Shit, fuck, oh my fucking god, baby, Y/N, I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so fucking hard in that pretty mouth of yours, yeah? God, you're such a good girl, so good f'me, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck!"
Eddie comes with a broken moan, his hips thrusting upwards and his hands holding you in place as his cock pumps rope after rope of cum down your throat. You moan, relishing the taste of him, which makes Eddie shudder at the overstimulation. You swallow everything he gives you. "Fuck, sweetheart, can you show me?"
You begrudgingly take your mouth off of his cock and open your mouth, tilting your head back slightly and sticking your tongue out to show him that you had indeed swallowed his cum. "Holy shit. I'm gonna get hard again." He groans, his chest heaving and his cock twitching slightly. You giggle and place a kiss to it, and Eddie grabs you, pulling you on top of him, careful to avoid the new ink. "I can kiss you, right?"
"I think we're past that, Eddie" You smile and squeak in surprise as he pulls your face to his, capturing your lips in a hasty kiss. It's a chaste kiss, experimental and you break away briefly. His eyes lock with yours, as if he was trying to search them to see if this was okay. "It's okay, Eds" you whisper, nodding gently. His eyes dart to your mouth and back up to your eyes.
"Do I get to keep you?" He whispers, his fingers softly stroking your cheek. You brush your nose against his.
"You get to keep me."
#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie smut#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#stranger things smut#stranger things fluff#eddie munson
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The landing | joel miller x f!reader, 13.2k
Summary: You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
Or
The one where your orbits finally collide for the final showdown.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, NO SPOILER (read A/N), ANGST, cheater!joel, discussions of infidelity, mention of food consumption, yelling, crying, the briefest mention of smut thoughts, sprinkle of fluff (blink and you'll miss it), as always let me know if I missed anything 👀
A/N: Ok, *deep breath* I know I can't make everyone happy unless I write alternate endings 😅 and I understand that infidelity can be a very triggering concept. I gave them the ending I felt they both deserved, but if you're looking for a story where they are at each other's throats for 13k words, maybe this is not for you and you are more than welcome to kindly move on.
I won't spoil the ending in the Warnings, so proceed with caution, you know what the main theme is all about. All I can tell you is that this part of the story is divided into two main scenes because I didn't want to drag it out with one little scene after another. *she says after spilling 13k words🙄sorry about that👀*
As always, I would love to read your thoughts on the last part and please keep in mind that writing is almost always self-indulgent.
P.S. I want to thank each and every one of you for the love I received for this mini-series, I never thought it would engage so many people. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. You've all been so kind and sweet to me, so this journey filled my heart with joy!
I love you all, take care of yourselves and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments!
Oh! My asks are always open if you want to know more about their story. I could even write drabbles or one-shots about anything you'd like to know in particular. Ily, bye 😘
P.S. I deliberately left the last two lines without clarification of who says what, I leave that up to you. 🤍
Dividers by @cafekitsune @saradika-graphics @plum98
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FOUR YEARS AFTER THE FALL
Are you still falling?
You’re not sure anymore. Maybe you’re just used to it. Or maybe you just learned how to fly. It certainly feels like everything has slowed down. Sometimes it feels like floating. As if you’re a feather, so lightweight, swirling around aimlessly. But you can never touch the ground. Gravity can’t quite pull you down. Every time you feel like you’re finally landing, a force of nature pulls you back up.
Maybe it is a soft, warm, summer breeze, a memory of Joel.
Maybe it is a whirlwind, a contact from the lawyers.
Maybe it is a snowstorm, sign the papers, please.
Maybe it is the whispering of a gentle wind, the possibilities of what might have been, or the lack of real closure.
But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
You never thought you’d enjoy leaving the big city and making a home for yourself on a ranch. But you loved it. You loved the peace and quiet, you loved this new community of people, you loved taking care of the horses, riding them, being around them. And then there was the house. A place you could almost call home. It was beautiful, rustic, warm, inviting, lacking none of the comforts a modern house needs, because you can’t quite get the big city girl out of you. The entire land had a soft, yellow-golden light enveloping every tree and every rock, everywhere your eyes reached, as if the sun shone differently here.
The days are easy. The chores are more than enough to keep you focused, there’s always something to do around here. It feels good to be busy, to keep your mind from dwelling on the past. You welcome the exhaustion of a full day’s work that accompanies your body when night comes.
Evenings are mostly good. You shower the day off, you cook, you chill on the couch with a good book or a film and more often than not, as the time passes and you feel more comfortable sharing the privacy of your home, you have friends over for dinner and drinks.
Nights though, nights are hard. At night, you pray that you are tired to the point of exhaustion so that you can sleep through it peacefully. Sometimes it works, but most of the time, not so much.
Time has intensified and lessened your emotional burden simultaneously.
The sharp pain that feels like thick acid being poured into you mellows in an inexplicable way. It still hurts, the pain oozing out of your every single pore even in a physical way. Only now, it has transformed into a sweet, slow poison conquering every hollow of your body, every vein leading from your heart to the ends of your limbs.
It’s almost a welcoming feeling, this pain, reminding you that you’re still alive, that he was real, that everything that happened was real. Because sometimes, sometimes, when you let yourself relax, when you let your guard down, all of this feels like a dream. Sometimes, you wake up in the middle of the night, confused, reaching with your hand for the other side of the bed and finding it empty. And for a split second you get that feeling. The feeling of how it used to be with him next to you.
Then you remember.
You know why this is happening and who’s responsible for it. This is a mix-up. This is what your treacherous brain does to mess with your resolve. It blends the bad stuff into the good, creating the strangest of concoctions. The clear image of black and white, neatly and perfectly hung in the center of the walls of your mind is now splashed with colorful memories from your life together, like a Pollock painting. You do your best to resist, to bring back scenes from all the vivid recollections of the night your life changed forever but your uncooperative brain pops another memory up, a good fuckin’ memory, like a projector, illuminating those bare imaginary walls with laughter and touches and whispers and scents and warmth. It’s relentless.
This dichotomy creates an uneasiness inside you, you choose to reject and pretend not to notice. Which in turn leads to self-contempt because, as always you can’t lie to yourself. You may lie to others but deep in your core you have to be honest with yourself. That is something you’re owed. To be aware, present in the reality of your life. So, you know, you know, you just sweep things under the carpet as a copy mechanism. You know what you should do.
You should confront him. You should demand answers and then finally say what you need to say to him. Not for him, not for his sake, but for yours. But you can’t. You've lost count of how many times you've picked up the phone and your thumb hovered over his contact to call him but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. And every time you tried to text him, to start a conversation, it felt too awkward. The only acceptable subject of discussion initiated by you was the progress of the divorce papers. You were unable to even remotely insinuate a more meaningful encounter. And he didn’t make any advances either. Not that you gave him any room to try and talk to you, but still, he seemed more settled with that, rather than not.
Maybe that fact itself was your cue to let it all go. He’s probably moved on. You don’t cheat on someone so blatantly and then want them back. Obviously, this whole delaying of the divorce is a power play, like everything else, it seems.
Good, yeah, that’s it. That’s it.
Now, let go. Move on. You solved it. Let go.
But this annoying little voice is scratching the walls of your weary brain, nudging the limits of the carefully made up serenity that’s hanging by a thread.
You should confront him. For your peace of mind, for your equilibrium.
But it’s nice here. Even between the earth and the sky.
Joel, will you please sign the papers?
It’s early in the evening and you’re in the garden in front of the house near the porch, on your knees, plucking a few weeds from the ground. The fatigue of the day’s work has begun to take its toll on you, your shoulder is slightly trembling as you rest your weight on one palm to dig around with the other. Sweat covers your torso, rolling down between the valley of your breasts and the hollow between your spine, leaving your t-shirt clinging to your skin, your hair sticking to your forehead, which is lightly covered in a thin layer of dirt at some places as you keep wiping your forearm over the little beads of salty water that concentrate over your brows.
You feel him before you see him. He’s still taking up space in your micro-universe. His sole presence creates ripples through the atmosphere as he walks towards you, softly nudging you to turn your head from your spot to look behind you.
There's an overload of sensations before you shift your body around to confirm what you already know in your bones. You can smell him, taste him, feel him on your suddenly tingling skin, all at the same time.
You turn slowly and your breath hitches on your throat. You just stay in place, frozen, time infinitely stretching as you take him in from where you kneel on the ground. He stops abruptly the second his eyes meet yours and you could swear he’s holding his breath, his face completely unreadable.
He looks.. he looks like your Joel and nothing like him simultaneously. Soft yet imposing. Handsome yet battered. Determined yet lost. His clothing is simpler, dark jeans, green flannel over a black t-shirt and laced boots, as if he just returned from a working site. His curls are longer, framing his handsome face in a ridiculously good way, more white hairs nestle in his beard that is not that trimmed. Neither of you speak quite yet, taking each other in.
Your mind, your bizarre, ridiculous mind is working on figuring out what day it is. Why does it matter? Did you have an appointment? This is unexpected and a long time coming all at once, regardless of the day of the week. What comes next? Do you draw up an astrological map to determine if it's a compatible date for you to meet? Get it together.
Your facial expression must be pretty funny because Joel smiles awkwardly while scratching one side of his bearded cheek; hey, it’s me.
No, shit, you mentally respond, as if you could ever forget him. Furious is the word that best describes you because these are his first words? Hey, it’s me? And that feeling escalates into an explosive retort because you now realize that you had expectations. His first words? Who cares what his first words are? Were you expecting a tearful reunion, masterfully staged and executed like a romantic film? The guy betrayed you in your own house, sorry, his house. Wake the fuck up.
“Did you sign the papers?” you spit as you rise from your spot and he reacts as if you have punched him in the stomach. His face falls; you see a series of micro-expressions pass over his features before he settles on the last one. Has he been hurt? Did you hurt his feelings? Did he also have expectations?
“Uh-”, Joel raises his brows in genuine surprise, things probably not going the way he expected or hoped.
“It’s nice to see you, too.”, he replies with mild mockery.
Your eyes snap shut and you laugh in anger, lowering your chin to your chest and then looking back up at him, your eyes blazing, your brows mimicking his previously surprised expression, “Are you serious right now?” you cross your hands defensively over your chest.
You stare at each other for a good minute, both of you taking a moment to compose yourselves and regain your balance.
You break first, dropping your head back to your chest, looking down at the heel of your shoe scraping the ground beneath you, exhaling audibly.
“Hey,” Joel tries again, after speaking your name tenderly, your name on his lips, his head dipping down and to the side to try and get your attention back to him, his gaze filled with a mixture of warmth, regret and fear, “hi.”
You shake your head from side to side in repentance, what a great start this is, you keep thinking, “Hi.” is all you give him, still not looking at him.
“Hi,” he repeats, “it’s really nice to see you, bab-, shit, sorry.”, he winces, covering his mouth with his palm, embarrassment creeping into his features. You let out a quiet laugh, exhaling through your nose. You don’t comment on the slip of endearment that leaves his mouth, you don’t correct him, accepting privately that you liked it, you missed it, you longed for it.
Joel studies your face, but makes no comment on your silence. “You look...” he pauses for a split second before deciding to continue, “you look really good.” He hesitates, he doesn't want his compliment to come across as a feeble attempt to patronize you, because he really means it. You do look good, all sweaty and muddy and human and real. You are real. If he took a few steps forward, he could actually reach out and touch you, feel your skin under his fingertips, smell your heady scent, perhaps discreetly lick the remnants of your sweat from his thumb after carefully removing the strands of hair sticking on your forehead. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t do any of that.
You don’t quite know how to respond to that, any answer crossing your mind seems stupid or cheesy or dismissive. How do you respond to a compliment from the man who made you worship in his altar, only to have your faith ripped out of your heart?
His eyes keep roaming over your face, your figure, memorizing everything he can, like a blind man who has finally found his light, while he fidgets with an envelope in his hand which reminds you-
“Did you sign the papers, Joel?”, is what escapes your lips before you can think twice.
“No.” and now it’s his turn to lower his head, his eyes avoiding your gaze, as he looks down at his feet.
“Joel!”, you exclaim infuriated, rolling your eyes at him, knitting your brows together in a sign of frustration.
“No, no, it’s not like that. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you want.”, Joel raises a hand in your direction to stop you from what seems to be a fair assumption, his palm up, facing you in an unspoken surrender. “I thought that- me, not signing, was a way of showing you how deeply sorry I am, how much I wanted to fix our marriage, but I understand now,” his voice wavers slightly, “that I need to respect your wishes. It’s the right thing to do. If this is still what you want, I’m gonna sign it.”
You don’t reply to that last part, only pointing out that “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that.”
“No, I didn’t.” Joel agrees.
“Then why are you here?” you insist, reluctant to entertain the idea that he has actually come all this way to apologize.
“Because I owe you an explanation.” is his honest and direct answer, sending little jolts of electricity through your nerves.
“Joel..” you sigh in exasperation. Not in warning or frustration, not really, but in something else. A feeling you can’t really put a name to, the closest you can come to describing it is that of a burden, woven deep into your heart, blossoming rapidly with each beat. There are so many things left unsaid; it makes you feel helpless, like you’re drowning. You want the dam you’ve built around your soul over the years to break so everything you've been holding back can finally pour out of you, but there’s just so much of it, of everything, that you’re terrified. Will the overflowing tank of emotions be completely empty? Will there be anything left unsaid? Untouched? What if the remnants left behind keep licking around your wounds, their waves pushing, shaping what’s left of you into something new, unrecognizable?
And what if, the tank will indeed be completely empty? What you’ll be left with, then? Nothing? Just.. empty? Will you remain empty? What, if anything, will take its place? Will you recognize your new self? Will you like yourself? Will you be able to live in harmony with this shell of a person? This you; you know. You hated and pitied and caressed and comforted and forgave and nurtured you into some version of a new you. But this? Everything will be torn apart, the wounds will be freshly opened, accessible to be examined in detail, plucked and bled and bruised in an all-too-familiar way.
Joel’s voice snaps you out of your trance, “No, I do. I owe you more than that, actually, but that’s the least I can do. And I wanna do that while I’m still your husband. I want to explain myself as your husband. Apologize to my wife, as her husband. Then I’m gonna sign anything you want me to.”
“And if I don’t wanna hear what you have to say?”
“Then I’ll just sign the papers and leave you in peace.” Joel confesses in all his honesty.
You just nod, looking down on the ground. You take a deep breath to ground yourself. You can do this. You want to do this. You need to do this.
You walk towards the house and sit down on the steps of the porch, as he looks at you awkwardly, not knowing where to stand. You gesture with a tilt of your head for him to come sit next to you. You can do this. You realize that you didn’t invite him into the house and you feel a bit rude for that, but it's beyond your empathetic capacity to deal with him being here and to let him into the house as well. “I just like it out here, it’s calm and-”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, whatever makes you feel comfortable; I know you don’t want me here any longer than I have to be..” he interrupts you as he sits down next to you, his one side pressing against the end of the stairs, where the railing begins. He places the contract between your bodies, on the wooden floor.
It makes you uncomfortable, his statement, you always want people to feel welcome and relaxed around you. You internally chastise yourself for worrying about his feelings instead of yours, but you can’t help it, it’s embedded in your DNA. “It’s OK, Joel, I don’t mind, we can talk.”
Joel nods, but he remains silent. You don’t break the silence, giving him time to collect his thoughts. He chuckles defeated, shaking his head while rubbing his hand over his face.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, you don’t look that mighty to me anymore.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself and you immediately regret it. It didn’t sound so insulting in your head. You only meant to say that he doesn’t intimidate you anymore. Which is sort of a lie and a truth at the same time. You used to find him imposing, even his mere presence had the ability to make your skin crawl, your heart flutter and your words get catch in your dry throat, you were in awe of him. Every time you laid your eyes at him, even when you were straddling his lap or gazing at his profile as he slept beside you, you always felt as if you were looking up. You admired him.
His heart loses several beats to that. He can read between your lines now. He has lost your respect. Your admiration. The time when you looked up to him in awe is long gone.
“You know, my therapist warned me about this.”, he chuckles bitterly.
“Your-” you can’t hide your shocked expression from him as you search his eyes for any sign of him joking around, but you find none. “You’ve been in therapy?”
“Yeah, I-, I spent two years hating myself,” he chuckles deprecatingly, “and then I realized it was time for me to stop being an arrogant prick, so I spent another two doing it all over again with the help of my therapist.”
You laugh wholeheartedly at that and it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. “OK, somebody’s off to a good start. Go on.”
“You mean about the therapy?”
“I mean about you admitting you are an arrogant prick”, you say playfully.
He really laughs now, his eyes crinkle up at the sides. You used to love that. You feel your heart warming up. “You can thank Maria for that.”
“For what?”
“For kicking my ass and pushing me to help myself.” Joel admits. “She’s a good friend.”
“Yeah, she is.” you agree through your laughter, the image of Maria actually kicking Joel’s ass is priceless.
“I missed that sound.” Joel is looking at you softly, as if his gaze could break you.
“Hm.” you simply smile at him, not finding it in you to respond with a snide remark. The time for that feels like it has passed, like it’s irrelevant at this point. All you really want is to have an honest conversation, irony be damned.
You both look at your feet in silent consideration for a minute or two. “I thought you’d be mad at me.” Joel reveals.
You exhale through your nose, the edges of your mouth turning up in a gentle smile. “Four years is a long time to be mad at anyone, Joel. Even you don’t have that kind of power over me.”
“Good. I have enough burden on my shoulders as it is..”, he mumbles and you decide to change the subject.
How do you admit that you are still mad at him but in a different way? How do you describe the deep scar his existence has carved into your soul making it almost unbearable to even exist without him? How do you explain that you’ll always carry him with you, no matter what? How do you instill in him that you still believe in the best version of him, the best version you know he can be, the best version of him you once lived with. Yes, you’re not mad at him for the reasons he thinks you are. You’re mad at him because the way he made you love him is stronger than any hurt he’s ever caused you.
“So, what did your therapist warn you about?”
“She, uh- she tried to prepare me for this.”
“Oh? What did she say?”
“That I should not be prepared.”, he laughs in earnest. “That I should not obsess about what I want to say and just be open and have an honest interaction.”
“I like her, already.” you say with a straight face.
He smiles softly, looking down at his boots, while he rests his elbows on his knees, one palm encircling the other. “Yeah… I had some digging to do; I still do for that matter and will be for a long time it seems.”
“Anything you wanna share?” you reply, raising an eyebrow as if you had no idea why he was here.
“Oh, boy-” he squirms in his seat, already overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, his chest almost vibrating with anxiety, he can barely swallow, small beads of sweat starting to form around his temples. You reluctantly reach for his forearm, trying to calm him down. “Hey, Joel?”
His whole body stiffens at your touch and he wishes his clothes would evaporate so he could feel your skin against his. He fixes his eyes on your delicate fingers lightly squeezing his tight muscles underneath the fabric. “The worst part has already happened four years ago, so-” you shrug, “just breathe.” Joel keeps his eyes on your hand, his heart rate dropping slightly; you ground him. You retract your arm and keep your hands to yourself in an effort to maintain a respectable distance between you. You shouldn’t have touched him at all.
“I think- I think I understand now.” he begins, still feeling the ghost of your touch on his forearm. “How I made you feel, what your words meant. You always did that, you know. And I found it so fascinating and so exhausting at the same time.”
You look at him, confused. Joel continues, “You always chose your words carefully. You had a reason for every single thing you said. In retrospect, I realized that you were handing me everything on a silver platter, but I was too self-absorbed to see it at the time.”
You nod in agreement, gesturing with your head for him to keep going.
Joel takes a deep breath, holding it inside his lungs for a while. His exhalation is controlled, measured. “Fuck. Okay. It was not just the fact itself. It was not just the cheatin’.”
Your stomach clenches violently at his words. The time has finally come and although you know what happened, you where there, when the words come out of Joel’s mouth it's as if you're pulled back to that threshold all over again. It really happened. You feel your hands sweating. “Go on.”, you pronounce carefully, already anxious your voice is going to betray you. You can do this.
“I don’t want to sound all full of myself-” Joel hesitates.
“You won’t.” you interrupt him with conviction. The truth has never frightened you. You welcome it. It feels like a form of catharsis, it feels like you’re finally being seen. Every nerve in your body is on fire. You’re ready for this, for the truth, if only he gives it to you. Please, set me free.
“I was your everything.” he whispers, almost embarrassed, his eyes not meeting yours. You don’t respond to that, not until he looks at you, although the admission shoots straight through your heart. You stare at the side of his face, almost forcing him to turn to you. He does.
“You were.” Simple. True. Clear as the light of day.
“And I ripped that from you.”
“You did.”
“In the worst possible way.”
“Hmhm.”, you don’t trust the stability of your voice.
“And no matter what I say, I can never take back what I did. I humiliated you, our home, our relationship, everything. I-” his brows furrow in an expression of disgust, “I disrespected myself. I burned everything down. I left nothing for you to hold on to, nothing for me to hope for, nothing.”
His chin trembles and his voice wavers as he continues. “The words to describe how sorry I am have not yet been invented. And even if they had, they still couldn’t take the pain away; what’s done, is done.”
He closes his eyes and rests his head on the railing. “I don’t know what I wish for anymore. That you had never met me, so you could be spared all this pain? But I can’t. I can’t wish that, because I’m so grateful to have met you. I married you, I had you. That is what has comforted me all these years, what has got me through all those sleepless nights.” He looks absolutely devastated, desperate.
It feels genuine, because he’s not directing it at you, he’s not trying to convince you, he’s not trying at all. “I have not thought about my pain or what I want from all this for a long time. All I pray for is-” his glistening eyes are searching frantically on the ground, his brows knitted together in a painful grimace. You rest your head on the palm of your hand, your elbow on your knee. Watching this moment like an outside observer, you realize that he's trying to live up to your standards, reminding you of a child trying to impress his parents, only to fail regardless of the outcome.
“Look, Joel, couples break up, divorce, all over the world, all the time. And I guess, they all thought their partners were their everything until they finally weren’t.”, you rationalize, putting everything that has happened into some kind of perspective. It is not the end of the world. It is the end of your world. He doesn’t have to carry this burden on his shoulders for eternity. All you need from him is to understand, to acknowledge what he's done to you, how broken you’ve been.
But if he acknowledges that, if he truly comprehends the tremendous pain he’s put you through, won’t all that anguish be transferred to him? Isn't it unbearable for a truly repentant man to know that he has deliberately caused so much pain?
“But, you see; I wanted that, I needed to be your everything.”
“It certainly fed your ego..” you grin at him.
“No, no- I craved that- that look on your face when your eyes were on me, like there was nothing else, no one else around you, but me. You drove me to be better, to move forward; I felt I had a purpose. You were my purpose.”
“Well I didn’t do much of a job then, did I?” you smile defeated.
“No, honey, this-” he’s determined to make you understand that it wasn't your fault, even if it is the last thing he is going to do. He licks his lips trying to formulate his thoughts, “-what happened, had nothing to do with you, I- I was just- I got in my head..”
You shake your head dismissively, “It’s a terrible burden to put people on a pedestal and expect them to-”
“But you see, baby, that’s the thing. You didn’t.”Joel dismisses your comment and if a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over your head you wouldn’t feel so frozen. You search his eyes for meaning, because deep down it stings to hear that you could give more. Is that what he’s saying? You didn’t love him enough? Joel catches on and rushes to explain. “You-” god this is so hard, he’s struggling, can’t he just rip his heart open and let you examine it? “You loved me so much, baby and you never asked for anything in return. You let me be who I was. You accepted me completely. You set me free.” His eyes are blown wide, burning into yours with intensity. You look so lost, how does all this fit in with what he did then?
“Darlin’,” he expands further, “we live in a competitive world. Everyone aims to control each other, from business partners to lovers and spouses; everyone manipulates, everyone tries to tell you where to look, what to do, how to act, how to fuck, how to love. Except for you. You let me be. You put your heart in my hands and you set me free. And I took advantage of that and I am truly sorry. I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know. That’s how fucked up I am.” you look at him dumbfounded.
“I can’t connect the dots; I don’t get it, Joel, I’m sorry, I-” you run your fingers through your hair, scratching your scalp in frustration. What does he mean?
Joel winces mid-sentence because he can’t escape what’s coming. This is his last resort. And he knows it is going to sound cruel and he doesn’t even mean the first part the way you're going to perceive it, but for lack of better words, for lack of the better person he could have been, a person who should have never put you in this position in the first place, here goes.
“She made me feel wanted; you made me feel free.”,
he spits out in a hurry, praying to whatever god is listening, that you won’t even catch it, knowing full well that these may be the last words you'll ever let him speak to you.
You are utterly, completely, perfectly shocked.
Then you feel it for the first time in what feels like ages. That old friend consuming you. Rage. It burns your lungs, twists your guts and pierces your heart like a thousand needles. Everything becomes crystal clear. You’re so infuriated, that your mind goes blank. A million words and nothing at all come to your mind simultaneously.
“Let me- let me rephrase that, because actually it was never even about her, I just-” Joel begins, in a vain attempt to stop the tide from crushing you both.
Your palms become clenched fists in front of your mouth, pressing against it, crushing the velvety skin of the inside of your lips against your teeth until you draw blood, in an effort to control yourself. You inhale sharply, keeping your eyes fixed on the land in front of you, blurred by the tears gathering in your waterline.
“She- what?” are the only words you manage to choke out.
“Baby, it doesn’t matter, it was never about her, she was a means to an end and-” your eyes bulge out of your sockets at the statement, “I know- I know how that sounds- just-” his palms come together in a prayerful gesture, begging you to give him a chance to explain.
“A means to an- what the fuck are you talking about, Joel?” the veins on your forehead swell under your skin, creating a map of the river of wrath flowing aggressively through your body.
“It was never an affair sweetheart, but a transaction; one I initiated. She was only a boost to my ego.”
..she made me feel wanted..
..a boost to my ego..
It's all starting to make sense now, and it's the last thing you expect to be confronted with. You've always imagined either a heated affair, a secret love story, him realizing he had found his soul mate in someone else, or him getting bored with you, finding you too much or too emotional or too unlovable. It turns out that you were accused of the one thing you never were.
“Are you-, oh god,” you can hear your heart pounding in your ears now and it takes every ounce of strength not to vomit, “are you saying that you fucked someone else; you fucked your secretary for fuck’s sake, you fuckin’ cliché of a man, because I wasn’t jealous of you?”. Your throat is so swollen, you try to scream your words at him but they only come out in wrenched whispers.
You stand up abruptly, dizziness causing you to close your eyes tightly as you see a million white dots behind the blackness of your eyelids. Your whole body vibrates with rage. You steady yourself on the railing and then begin to pace back and forth, your hands unable to stay motionless, but moving over your face, through your hair, lowering and squeezing the sides of your waist as you lean slightly forward in a subconscious way to soothe yourself.
“Oh my god, oh my fucking god,” you laugh hysterically now, as angry tears run down your cheeks, as if you've been let in on an inside joke. “It’s my fault, everything is my fault-”
Joel is frozen in place, he’s not sure if he should get up and try to reason with you or stay where he is.. or run for the hills. He’s witnessing the unleashing of a caged animal. His tongue feels heavy and numb in the cavern of his mouth but he dares to speak again, “That’s the exact opposite of what I said, sweetheart,” he tries to explain in vain, “I’m sorry if that’s what I-” but you’re not listening to a single word he utters.
“People kept telling me, urging me on, all my life;” and you slap your palms on the sides of your thighs, looking at his direction, but not really looking, “I should be more controlling, more pushy, more..” your voice begins to fade, muttering to yourself through your teeth. “They warned me, you know, that the lack of pressure in any kind of relationship would be perceived as a lack of interest.”
Don't trust completely; hold something back; men like the illusion of power; show them you need them; make them jealous; be jealous, like a manual to a pre-installed setting.
Do you agree to the Terms & Conditions?
Press ‘Enter.’
“But I didn’t listen. I never listened. Because in what world do we choose a leash over freedom?” You turn to look at him now, addressing him as if you were talking to a third party, an outsider, asking for advise or affirmation.
Maria’s words come back to Joel’s mind, words that he had long forgotten about, finally fitting like missing pieces of a puzzle to the bigger picture.
“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”
“I was really stupid, was I not? What on earth made me think that this time would be any different, what made me think that you’d be any different? You’re just- you’re just another man-” you spit your vile angrily as your eyes sweep over him. The look in his eyes is devastated, he feels shuttered, reduced to nothing.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid little girl. When the fuck will I learn? When the fuck am I going to accept that I don't really belong? When?”
Joel is staring at you bewildered, he never felt more helpless in his life. A thousand new thoughts and questions form in your head, things you didn’t even begin to imagine would cross your mind.
“Did you use her?” you ask with renewed vigor, a surge of energy running through your body.
Joel’s cheeks burn with humiliation but he has already admitted it once, what will it do to him to say it one more time? “Yes, I never had any feelings f-”
“No,” you interrupt impatiently, you don't care about his feelings right fuckin' now, “that night, did you use her? On purpose?”
Joel looks lost for a second but the cogs in his head finally turn and “NO! No baby, I wasn’t even aware of you coming home earlier than expected, no. Don’t even entertain this idea; it wasn’t intentional, I swear to god.”
Oh. There’s a new question for Joel. Why did you leave your business trip early? He had never thought about it before, solely focused on everything else that had happened, which now made him wonder, “Did you- did you know?”
“What?” you frown, lost in your own thoughts, not following his line of logic.
“Did you know? Is that why you came back early from your trip?”
You’re still a bit too far gone in your head to think clearly and try to prevent the next question from coming, “Of course I didn’t know, Joel, did it look like I did?” is all you say with a bite, annoyed.
“Then why-” Joel insists, pressuring you for an answer, but he doesn’t get to finish his sentence.
“I- fuck- I need a minute.” you declare and start to walk towards the house.
Joel waited on that porch for almost an hour, watching the sun set behind the mountain, afraid to move, barely breathing in case you stormed out and threw him back where he came from as if him standing still would somehow make him part of the landscape; as if he belonged.
And you certainly delivered.
He hears the screen door open, his back still to the house. You are standing behind him, your arms crossed stiffly over your chest, your face tilted down, to avoid his gaze. He could see the red-rimmed and swollen eyes of yours, despite your efforts to hide them.
“I can’t do this-”
“Please,” his whole face contorts in agony, “please, hear me-” you both speak at the same time.
“-tonight.”
“What?” his voice matching the look of confusion on his face.
“Maybe another time, but not tonight.”
“I-” he doesn’t know how to articulate his thoughts without sounding like an idiot. He drove all this way, four hours straight, to finally get things straight. His brain has short-circuited, unable to put a plan into action. Should he check into a hotel or a motel or whatever the fuck is around here in the middle of nowhere? Should he go back to his place? Do you really want to talk again? You sort of said you did. You said maybe. Fuck. What does he do?
But honestly, what did he expect? That this would be over in the course of one evening? Of course he would have to come back. His eyes are fixed on yours like a deer caught in the headlights. “I came all this way-” he mumbles, choking on the last part, already regretting the words that came out of his mouth.
“Well, too bad.” you spit emotionless as you turn and head for the safety of your house, leaving him stunned on the goddamn porch.
Joel returned the next evening, but you weren't there. He made the four hour journey and came back empty-handed. And you weren't there the next evening, or the evening after that. But he kept on driving the miles, hot wheels under the Texas sun. He didn’t check in anywhere near your small town. He went back home and then back to you again.
The last time he found nothing but a closed door, he finally got the message, so the next time he left the house, before he turned on the ignition, he texted you, as a sign of respect for your boundaries.
Is it all right if I come and see you?
Backspacebackspacebackspace
Is it OK if I come and talk?
And the answer was
Not today.
So, every day he texted you. He didn’t mean to be intrusive, he just wanted to remind you that you were never far from his thoughts, that he was always ready and eager to finish what he started.
You denied him for quite some time. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him again. The confessions he made have knocked you off your axis. Just when you finally felt like everything was falling into place, he dropped this bombshell, making you rethink everything you thought you knew and had sorted out in your mind. You just couldn’t wrap your head around what you’d heard coming out of his mouth. How could he think like that? Why couldn’t he just talk to you? You used to talk about everything; what the fuck happened? How did you not see that coming?
You were sure that he would give up, that he would stop bothering to contact you at all. Was it the monster of self-deprecation? Was it a deep disappointment in human beings and their general lack of persistence in trying to nurture and repair a relationship, or at least trying to give it a proper closure? You didn’t give it much thought afraid of the answer you might get. But you kept saying Not today, until one day, for some reason-
Can we talk?
Yes.
Joel’s heart is beating through his chest so rapidly, he has to cough to regain some of his composure. He almost drops his phone, trying to confirm the most convenient time for you before you change your mind.
That was the first Yes after the day you saw him again. You weren’t sure what you wanted to talk about; if you could pick up exactly where you left off. You weren’t even sure you could look him in the eye again, but you had to see this through.
When you hear the sound of his engine and tires on the dirt road, you take a deep breath and walk out of the house to wait for him on the porch.
“Come on in, I’m cooking dinner.” you announce as you open the screen door for him to enter the house.
“Are you sure?”, Joel is taken aback, he thought the inside of your house was strictly off-limits to him. You were also cooking dinner as if he was an old friend visiting you. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should lower his defenses or not but with the way you looked tonight you didn’t give him much of a choice.
You’re wearing a pair of warm cream jeans, paired with a white front tie shirt, the first few buttons left open, giving him a glimpse of your tanned sternum. It almost looks like a man’s shirt, just messily tied up over your soft skin, revealing bits of your stomach. Could it be another man’s shirt?
You are barefoot. The nails of your toes are painted in a fresh glossy black color. Your hair is casually tied up in a messy bun, loose strands falling around your beaming face. Joel has to restrain himself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you on the spot, by clenching and unclenching his fists. His mouth is salivating at the sight of you, excitement building in his groin. It's been so long since he's felt this way, a different kind of hunger is growing in him at a rapid pace, as if something buried deep inside his masculinity has just awakened from hibernation.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you quirk back at him, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, what you’re both doing. “I’m starving. Coming?” you leave him at the entrance and go back into the house.
“You have a beautiful home.”, Joel admits as he takes in his surroundings, thinking that this is going better than he expected. He also can't help but prepare himself for the fact that this might not end the same way.
“Thank you.” you laugh nervously.
“What?”, he catches the note of disbelief in your voice. “I'm serious, the light is just right, it’s open and warm; it actually reminds me of you.” he says matter-of-factly.
“No, no, I know you mean it, it’s just- I guess it’s high praise, coming from you.” you admit. You always admired what he did for a living and how good he was at it and him seeing your place for the first time gave you another reason to feel kind of nervous.
“Oh, come on, none of that now.” he dismisses the compliment, his voice wavering slightly at the praise.
“Well it’s true, you are excellent at what you do, I mean, the house you built is a work of art and that’s a fact.”
“Which one?”, although he knows exactly which one, he presses on.
“The one we used to live in, together.” You can’t call it your house. You cannot. The mere thought of it makes your tongue feel like it’s on fire.
“Oh.”, Joel smiles as he presses his lips together in a thin line, “You mean our house. It was built out of love, that's why. It's the one I'm most proud of.”
“Hm.”, is all you give him. Déjà vu brings back memories out of the closet -pun intended- for both of you.
“Ok, now you really have to tell me. What is it?”, Joel crosses his forearms over his chest. He has to know.
“What do you mean?”, you try to buy some more time, cause you’re not so sure you want to go in there.
“You had the exact same reaction when I mentioned that, four years ago.”
“Ah, that.”
“Yeah, that.”
“It’s just- it always felt like it reflected your personality rather than mine. Or at least ours.”
Joel looks at you perplexed.
“I’m not complaining, I mean, how many people can claim that their husband built them a house the size of a small hotel as a wedding present?” you chuckle while you continue as nonchalantly as you can muster, “I would have lived in a cave with you, Joel, you didn’t have to go to these lengths to house two people. If you want my honest opinion, this was an ego project. I let it slide because it made you happy. And I liked you happy.” Joel looks stunned, his eyes darting back and forth between yours.
“Baby, I- I wanted to make you happy, to give you the best I could-”
“Joel, I’m not judging you. I am not. But you didn’t show me a single blueprint while you were designing the damn thing. You didn’t ask me what I wanted or how I imagined it. Sure, you equipped it with all the best stuff money could buy, but you never asked me what I thought about it. Not really.”, you see the hurt in his eyes and it unsettles you, but now the rabbit is out of the hat. “Again, I’m not judging you and I’m not being ungrateful, all I’m saying is that for some reason you needed your shinny new wife to live in a shinny new castle. It was a prestige thing. Just think about it.”
“Jesus..” Joel mutters, pinching the sides of his forehead with one hand, feeling defeated.
“Hey,” you give him a wry look, “I tried to avoid answering that question for four years. You were the one who insisted.” you defend yourself, clearly amused by his reaction.
“What else do I need to know?”, Joel wonders in a desperate manner.
“Well.. for how long can you keep coming back?” you joke absentmindedly.
“For the rest of my life..” Joel answers a little too quickly, not a hint of playfulness in his voice.
Your heart tightens at his eagerness, forcing you to admit a consideration that you have had more than a few times before. “You know,” you look over at him, lost in thought, almost like reminiscing, “sometimes I wish I had met you before your company took off.” You snap out of your daydream and consciously look at him and he looks pained as if some kind of realization has hit him. You change the subject for the sake of both of you. “Anyway, speaking of which, how is work? I heard you closed that deal, after all.” you grin mischievously.
“Yeah, I did.”, his voice takes on a strange timbre, almost like regret. But you’re not so sure about anything these days, so you let it pass. He puts the envelope with the contract on the counter in the kitchen and sits down in the chair next to the table already set for dinner.
“Good, that’s good. Let me guess, you’re all over it? First in, last out? Is it almost done?” you word vomit to cover your nervousness.
“Uh,” Joel rubs the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t know.” is all he gives you, clearly trying to avoid getting involved in the discussion.
“Um, you don’t know?”, you laugh lightly in confusion. “How is that possible?”, you ask stirring the vegetables in the pan.
“I’m not involved in the project and I have no idea about the status of the construction;” Joel answers your question and continues, revealing, “I quit. Sold my shares and got out.”
“Yeah,” you draw the vowels, still not looking in his direction, “right. Big, mighty Joel Miller left his enterprise-” you laugh mockingly, but you are met with silence. “You’re joking, right?” You turn to look at him, not believing what you have just heard. You feel your blood freeze in your veins.
Joel shakes his head in denial, “I’ve actually left the city and the only reason I haven’t sold every asset in my name is in case you want to claim any of them. They’re all yours if you want ‘em.” Your mouth is slightly agape, as you try to process what has just been delivered to you.
You open your mouth to protest but he beats you to it, by raising his hand to stop you. “I know you don’t want anything from me, but that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want them either. Not without you. Just take them. Burn them for all I care, liquidate them and use the money as you see fit.”, Joel insists, trying to find ways to convince you.
“You can do that yourself, Joel.” is all you say; you don’t give a damn about his money. Joel nods and leaves it at that, he knows better than to talk about money right now.
You’re curious where he lives now, but you’re not sure it’s appropriate to ask, so you don’t. You prepare dinner and make small talk about simple things like your lives over the past four years. Joel asks you about the ranch, the horses, the chores; you ask him about Tommy and Maria, their newborn son, whom you haven't had a chance to meet yet. None of you dare to break the bubble of normality in which you have effortlessly found yourselves.
It feels like coming home after a long day, the way you both fall into a comfortable silence. Joel speaks your name softly, drawing your attention and your gaze back to him. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re eating?” Just a little longer, let me have it just a little longer.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “no, I mean, what are we doing?” he gestures with his fingers between him and you.
You look at him and then at your plate, playing around with your food, lost in thought. How do you acknowledge that? How do you confess that you’re trying to stretch time? How do you admit that you’re scared out of your mind of how it's all going to end? How do you even come to terms with the fact that you’re not sure you want any of this to end? How do you accept how natural it feels to have him back in your life? How do you admit that after four years the pain has never stopped, but the force, the roughness of it has changed into something softer, yet persistent; never quite going away, lingering.
How do you admit that all the good memories are emerging, because that’s what the mind does, that’s how it protects you, that’s how it helps you survive another day, that’s how it tricks you into falling back into a comfortable routine with him. Even if what binds you together now is his betrayal. How do you admit that you’re afraid of what will become of you once you've finished confessing your truths?
Will he cease to exist for you? Will you cease to exist for him? Will he ever bother to contact you again? Do you really want him to? Will you matter to him or will he move on, start again and shake off the last vestiges of your life together?
Or maybe- maybe he has moved on with his life and that's why he's doing all this, putting all this effort into it. Maybe he is preparing a new, clear path for himself and whoever is in his life right now. Is it her? Is it still, her?
You’re spiraling, lost in your thoughts, biting your lower lip anxiously, like a snake eating its own tail. “Baby?” his baritone voice snaps you out of it, he must have called you several times before you heard him, suddenly aware of hot, fat tears streaming down your face, his thumbs gently brushing them from your cheeks.
You let out a shuddering breath; it’s the first time he’s touched you, in so, so long. And here he is again. The familiar, old friend. He’s pounding on your door now, relentless as he is, screaming for you to let him in, lead the way, take charge, take care of you. You can almost feel his maniacal banging, vibrating through your chest, let me in, let me in, let me in.
Let me in, better angry than scared.
Better angry than scared.
Your shoulders slump, your head feels unbearably heavy. The world has stopped moving. The world is moving too fast. You savor his features as he leans further in, his intoxicating scent filling your nostrils, his eyes pleading, the brown of his irises inviting you to let him in. Joel’s face is that of a man still in love as he continues to caress your skin and you let him.
You let him, because you are a weak person.
You let him because you have been deprived of his touch, of any touch really, for far too long.
You let him because you want to have something for yourself, selfishly.
You let him, because for once you just want to take. Take, take, take.
You let him because you just want to be held and touched and loved.
And even though your mind knows that you shouldn’t want all that from him, your heart allows you that little moment.
“Joel, I’m tired.” you begin, your voice breaking as fresh tears run down your face and onto his thumbs. “Tired to my bones. All I want is to be honest with each other. Do you think we can do that? Can we talk like two adults with nothing left to lose? Can we just be truthful to each other? I know there’s too much history between us, too much hurt and resentment but we both have to try and put it all behind us. I can’t go on like this.”
There’s a stillness in him, realization and clarity dawning on him. He thinks he understands now and it shocks him somehow, as a fact, that there are still things to uncover, to revel in, to acknowledge. Every time he thinks he’s reached the end of this journey, a new sun rises over the horizon.
You don’t need the specifics of his action, at least not right now, or not anymore. What you need is closure. True, honest closure. And that can only come from him baring himself to you. “Yeah, yeah, we can do that. We can do anything you want, baby.”, he squeezes his eyes shut, knowing where to begin, but resisting the thought. He leans back in his seat, dropping his hands from your face as he lets out the breath he seems to be holding in and begins.
“Remember that night before your business trip when you came to my office?”
“Uh, yeah? I guess.”, what a strange thing to mention, you think confused. “What about it?”
“You came to me for sex.”, Joel says bluntly, no need to beat around the bush. This is it. This is how he loses you. Once again.
You stare at him and then, for some reason, look down in embarrassment. You’ve fucked him in almost every way you can think of and now the very admission of that fact makes you feel like an exposed nerve. It dawns on you, how far away this era has slipped away. You feel vulnerable as if you’re talking to a total stranger about your most intimate moments. At the same time, you still know exactly how to touch him, how to please him and a light warmth begins to shimmer inside you.
“Well, that’s one way of putting it, but- yeah..”, you admit, still nervously picking at your food with your fork.
Joel sees your apprehension but he presses on. This is what you asked for. “And I refused you.” The look on your face betrays your confusion. Where is he going with this? Only now, he sees more. He can finally see more. The hurt. The disappointment. “What happened next?” is his next question and does he really think that you can remember all these years later? Does he honestly believe that you can recall yourself leaving his office defeated and crying yourself to sleep? “I don’t remember.” you lie, shrugging your shoulders as convincingly as you can muster.
“You said you loved me and then you left.”, Joel reminds you.
“You- you remember all that?”, your eyes are wide and the look on your face vulnerable, Joel wants to pause it all and hold you in his arms.
“I can’t seem to forget anything about you,” he reveals, “believe me, I’ve tried.”
“What’s your point?”
“Why did you do that?”
“Uh.. why did I do what?”, you narrow your eyes in confusion.
His eyes are piercing yours, provoking you to figure it out on your own.
“Loved you?” He shakes his head almost imperceptibly.
Your eyes widen again, in surprise this time, as you finally see what he means.
“Walked away?” You’re fucking shocked to the core, your voice choked, you’re not sure you spoke out loud.
“Why didn’t you insist?”
Your mouth is wide open, you’re speechless, you flatter your eyelids in search of the right words. This is your second encounter and once again he says what you least expect him to say.
“You refused” you remind him now, “and I respected that.”, your hand moves to rest on your chest, palm open, to calm your racing heart.
“I didn’t want you to.”
“You know how that sounds, don’t you?”, you mock with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, please,” Joel is quick to respond, his brows knitted in a dismissive frown, “like you could ever force yourself on me.”
You genuinely are at a loss for words, your gaze unable to stay in one place, your mind running a million miles an hour.
Apparently you both are, because Joel is no better at explaining how he feels. “I wanted you to-”, he stops, his eyes still searching yours for the right words, pleading with you to feel him.
Oh my god. Oh. My. God.
It dawns on you. All at once. You see it all playing out. You know exactly how this conversation is going to go. “-claim you? You wanted me to claim you?”, your voice rises, as does your tone. You feel the presence of your abandoned friend again. You don’t want him here. But he creeps in through your veins, nonetheless. He is not giving up. If the pounding doesn’t work then he’ll poison you, slowly and persistently.
“From who? You were supposed to be mine!”, you exclaim exasperated, immediately correcting yourself “-not that I owned you, you know what-”
“That! That’s what I’m talking about!” Joel points his finger at you, “That’s what I needed. To be yours!”
“But you were! Are we really haggling over semantics? Of course you were mine! I just never wanted you to feel suffocated by me. You were not my possession Joel, you were my partner!”
“I swear to you, I would die a happy man, baby.”
“I- I tried so hard to control myself-” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes back to your head as you shake it in denial, “-all that hunger inside of me, eating me up-”
“What?” is Joel’s turn to look like a lost puppy. What the fuck is going on here?
“You,” you point a finger at him, “you were my first and last thought every passing day, it wasn’t even healthy anymore, Joel. But- I saw that look in your eyes sometimes, a hunger, one I thought mirrored mine and then it was gone in the blink of an eye and I thought that something was holding you back; I- I was holding you back. I thought- maybe I was undeserving..” you divert your eyes from him, embarrassed at your feeling of inadequacy, “So, I accepted what you gave me if it meant I could have any part of you.”
“Oh, baby..” Joel’s hiding his face in his palms and his heart breaks as he realizes where you both stand. How did the two of you get to this point? How could his judgment be so clouded, how could he be so blind to what was happening under his own roof? How could he be so arrogant as to seek validation, one he didn't even need, from someone else? Someone whose validation he didn't even care about. It didn't matter to him. She didn’t matter to him. How could he not sense the insecurity tantalizing your very core to the point of feeling inadequate? If only you had told him sooner.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you mirror his thoughts with your voice.
“What should I say to you? I couldn’t put it into words, even now I'm not sure I can. It was an all-consuming feeling, an absolute necessity, an overwhelming need that was impossible to handle. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally prepared to deal with it. I loved you with such force that it became an obsession. I couldn’t even entertain the idea that you might not want me back in the same way. I felt helpless, vulnerable. How could I come to terms with this? With the realization that I had fucked someone else just to get a rise out of you or to prove to myself that I didn't need you that much after all?”
Joel’s palms are clenched into fists on his thighs, trying to keep himself from pressing his lips against yours. Feelings and desires that had been buried in his subconscious for too long came back as he tried to make you understand.
“A r- so, you did fuck her on our bed on purpose.”
“You asked me that before, darlin’, I promise you I did not.”
“Then how would you provoke me if you didn’t mean for me to find out?” you look at him incredulously.
“I-” Joel winces, “it wasn’t a conscious thought, I just kept fantasizing about you finding out and burning the house down for me and that single image made me so h-” Joel shuts his mouth abruptly, not the best idea to describe to you how fuckin’ hard he got, fantasizing about you while fucking someone else. You, bursting into the bedroom all raging and furious, turning the whole place upside down reclaiming what was rightfully yours.
Him.
What a sick fuck he was. “I swear to you, no. I’m not that fucked up. It was a gigantic lack of judgment, I was fuckin’ drunk, my mind was a mess at that point. That whole week was-” he’s biting his tongue hard to stop himself while rubbing his forehead with his fingers, “I was just being an idiot.”
“The week I was gone?”
“Yes.”
“What about it?”
“Nothing, ‘snothing.” and he doesn’t elaborate. “Just a bad fuckin’ week.”
The atmosphere suddenly feels suffocating, as if all the words that have spilled out of both your mouths are hovering over your heads like a black cloud. You need some air to clear your mind, so you make your way out of the kitchen without looking back and walk slowly to the porch, sitting on the steps at the bottom of the stairs. You know he will follow. Your bare feet touch the soft soil beneath you and you try to ground yourself through the little patch of earth you call your own. It doesn’t quite work. There’s a beautiful golden glow, a last gift from the parting sun, warming your soul. Everything is going to be all right.
“Strange fantasies we both had.” you say as Joel seats down next to you, the contract once again a barrier between you. “You kept fantasizing about me finding out about your affair-”.
“It wasn’t an affair-” Joel corrects you.
“Fine, fine. You imagined that, while I kept fantasizing me holding you so tightly while we fucked that our flesh became one; that’s how deep I needed you inside me, that’s how obsessively I wanted to carry you with me all the time, isn’t that totally fucked up?” you laugh dejectedly.
“I guess we are the same kind of fucked up. If only we could admit it to each other..”
“Did you really feel that I didn’t love you enough?” you whisper, almost too scared to be heard and to get an answer.
“I think we loved each other too much. I think we were both too afraid of losing each other. I think,” Joel pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts and calm his voice, “in our efforts to keep each other we did the exact opposite. More me than you, for sure. I have handled things badly and badly is an understatement.”
“You were always so patient with me. You’d always wait for me to come to you, to take my time. I needed the savage in you, or I thought I did at the time. That desperate thing I felt creeping out of you in stolen glances or bitten lips between your teeth, or when we fucked; no one has ever fucked me like you did. I did see all of you then, you know. And I think you saw all of me. If I made you feel confident or safe enough, you would have talked to me. And if I wasn’t so self-absorbed I would have asked.”
You never thought you’d hear these words from Joel, but all this time of self-reflection has changed him in a way that reminds you of the Joel you fell in love with. The one you could see behind all those layers of self-protection, the one you’d always hoped would emerge for you. And then he goes on, and you wish you knew what was coming so you could protect your heart from being torn to shreds.
“Maybe-” he closes his eyes looking pained, “maybe I was a narcissist. Maybe you gave me all you had and I kept wanting more, maybe I needed every part of you for myself. Maybe I needed you on your knees, on a leash, at my mercy, just to have the illusion of the certainty that you would never leave me. Maybe freedom is for those who can bear it, after all. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed the leash in the end. Maybe you gave me too much credit, my love, when you deemed me worthy of freedom.”
His words are earth-shuttering, obliterating, final. There’s nothing left to be said, at least nothing of substance. Final. The fucking word plays over and over in your head. Final. This is final. You could swear that you have felt every possible kind of pain during these four long years but new depths of agony are being discovered right now. The acid in your stomach makes your throat constrict. You feel petrified.
Joel can sense your distress, his words have been of no comfort to you. Your skin looks pale, covered with a thin layer of cold sweat; you look physically ill. Your forearms rest on your knees and he gently cups your elbow to check in on you. Are you OK? You smile weakly at him, the expression not reaching the corners of your eyes.
“You know I would give anything to take it all back, right?”
Your laughter is more lively now, not with malice or sarcasm, but with a sense of humor.
“Yeah, yeah, I think I do.”, you shake your head in twisted amusement, tilting your head up, to let the last rays of the sun warm your face, maybe bring back some of your lost color. It's getting dark now, the day is coming to an end, the curtains of the last sunlight are almost closed. Your eyes are closed too, your head still tilted back as you laugh to yourself, “You did that backwards, too, you know.”
“What?”
“You have burned everything to the ground, only to realize that you want to get it all back in one piece. I mean it’s- it’s-” you struggle to find the right words but Joel offers one of his own.
“Ridiculous..”
“I was gonna say pointless.. But that’s the thing, Joel. Choosing to be with someone is like faith. You believe because you just know. You don't have to find evidence to prove your choice at every turn, otherwise it’s just exhausting. You choose to trust yourself.”
“Trust me as your partner, you mean, not yourself.”
“Joel, it was never about trusting you..”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand..”
“I’m not sure how to explain it- uh..”, you raise your shoulders and your brows in unison as you shake your head slightly, searching for the words. “Trust is a personal journey. ‘Trust’ doesn't mean ‘trust in you’, I’m not trusting you. No one can be sure of anyone. ‘Trust’ means that I have faith in myself, that even if you hurt me, even if you abandon me, I will not fall apart. And..” you shrug your shoulders, hugging yourself with your hands, “look at me, Joel..”, you finish, suggesting that you’re still here, still standing.
“I am, baby; I am..” Joel replies, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last time he’ll ever have the chance to, utterly compelled by your inner glow.
“I’m not mad at you Joel, not anymore. And I believe you, I really do. But I can’t get that scene out of my head. I just can’t. I can still hear the sounds, I can even recall the way you smelled when you were standing next to me.”
His hands are shaking.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, really.”
“I know.”, his voice is barely audible.
“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself. Maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”
“Do you?” Do you, really? Do you forgive him after all that has been said? Do all these confessions illuminate the facts from a different perspective? Does it change what he did and what you went through? And if so, does that mean you're letting him go? Are you leaving him behind? Is he leaving you behind? Why is it so hard to let go? Why do you choose the safety of the known, even when it hurts you?
You choose not to answer and instead firmly insist, “You have to forgive yourself, Joel, it’s okay.” Be the better person. If not for him, then for yourself. Let him go.
“I can’t do that.”, Joel is adamant, shaking his head while he rejects your request.
“Yes, you can.” you urge him again. “As I can and do.” Let him go.
Joel never thought he would listen to those words coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t deserve them. He hasn’t earned them. “You forgive me?”, he repeats in utter shock and disbelief.
“Yes.” Loud and clear as daylight.
“I- You can’t- I don’t- I don’t deserve that.” Joel feels like he’s drowning in your so graciously offered Holy Grail, desperately trying to keep his head above the waters of your absolution.
“I can’t be the judge of that, Joel, hell, I can’t be the judge of anyone. The way I see it, you chose your actions and I chose mine. You chose to hurt me and I chose to walk away. We both lost something. Have we not suffered enough, Joel?” you ask him honestly.
“I don’t want to presume, but- isn’t it a great burden to carry on your shoulders when you try to move on? All this anger, all that bitterness?” you search his eyes for an answer but he doesn’t give you one.
You continue, hoping to get through to him. “Your feelings are your burden Joel and it doesn’t matter if I forgive you. That’s why it is you who needs to forgive yourself.”
His eyes still refuse to meet yours, stubbornly glued to the ground. “I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me. We need to move forward, both of us.” is the last thing you say to him, not knowing if he even listened to half of what you just said.
You both fall into a thoughtful silence, but something you said is bugging him. He can’t quite figure it out, so he turns to look at you, to savor you while he still has the chance. He knows that his time is limited.
You’re just sitting there with him, trying to comfort him, you of all people. You seem lighter now, fidgeting absentmindedly with your fingers as if some of your burden has already been lifted. And as his gaze sweeps over you, he sees it again. He sees the white shirt hugging your body and he knows what’s troubling him.
I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume, I don’t want to presume.
His heart beats rapidly in his chest, panic rising inside him.
“I’ve been with you for the last four years.”
“Excuse me?” your hands freeze as you turn to face him, clearly confused.
“You said you didn’t want to presume anything and I need to set the record straight. There was and is no other woman in my life except you.”
“Joel,” you blush shyly, “this is none of my business, you are free-”
“No. No. I need you to know this, it’s important to me. I meant everything I said. You have done nothing wrong. My feelings for you have never changed-”
“Joel, please..” you beg him to stop, you can’t have this conversation now, it’s too soon. No, you’re wrong. It’s too late; too soon means there’s a future ahead of you. A future where you both fit in the same universe.
“I don’t want you to think that I came all the way out here just to tie up some loose ends and move on. That is not what this is about.”
“If you expect me to tell you about my personal life..” your what now?
“No, I don’t. And I don’t think I could handle it, anyway. You are a free woman and you deserve the world. Unlike me; I don’t deserve anything and I’ll never be free of you.”
Your chin is now trembling and you bite your lower lip to stop the involuntary muscle contraction. You can’t decipher if it’s from anger for the way things came to be or from deep, excruciating sadness for how Joel feels. For how he makes you feel.
“Free woman, huh?”, you whisper bitterly, looking down at your feet, willing yourself not to cry.
“Yes, free, as you should always have been and I’m sorry I couldn’t see it sooner.”
Joel then picks up the divorce papers from the floor next to him as he’s fishing a pen out of his pocket. He stares at you and then at the blank space where his signature should be, next to yours. He splays his palm over the last page as if to straighten it out, but it almost looks like he’s caressing it. He brings the ball of the pen to the white surface and for a moment his hand lingers over it. He doesn’t dare look at you again, his resolve is not that strong. Finally, finally he signs, filling the empty spot and he hands you the contract. It’s a strange moment, the one before the signature and the one after it.
Everything seems to be the same; it is just a signature.
Everything feels completely different; it is not just a signature.
Your fingertips brush his as you reach out to take it, the touch sending shivers down your spine. Your slightly trembling hands hold the papers gently, not sure you wanna hold on to them or scatter them on the ground. Your thumb swipes softly over his signature.
You feel it, now. You feel the ground beneath your bare feet, the warmth of the earth, the weight of your footing. The falling has stopped. The feather finally rests. You have landed.
Joel moves to stand on his feet, as you keep staring at the drying ink, when you feel something fall from above onto your thumb; but you can’t see anything as it is immediately absorbed by the hungry pores of the paper, slightly smudging his signature. You look up to catch him as he dries his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
“Free as a bird, baby, ready to fly over the world.”, Joel smiles at you with a look of reverence and devotion in his eyes.
You picture the floating feather in your head and smile back at him with a serenity he hasn’t seen in a long time.
“I think I just want to walk for a while. One step at a time.”
He nods, his eyes still full of emotion and you watch as he begins to walk slowly towards his truck, when suddenly he turns his body to face you but continues to walk backward in the same direction.
“Hey!” he calls to you with a mischievous smile, raising his chin to you.
“Yeah?” you answer, your voice wavering slightly as you try to hide your smile.
“Can I take you to dinner sometime?” he asks as he reaches for his driver’s door and opens it, waiting for your answer, which never comes because you think he’s joking. But he continues to stare at you, with no expectations, quietly, earnestly, sincerely, with a soft, shy smile on his lips. Oh.
Oh.
“Joel..” is all you breathe out, closing your eyes for a moment before you look at him again, because his name is all that is left in your very being right now. Joel.
He seems lighter, too.
“Maybe, one day..?”
“Yeah.. Maybe, one day..”
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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre @leggtostandon @sarahhxx03
@zliteraturehoe @msmorningstaarr @gossipgirl-03 @vabeachazn @joeldjarin
@sofiparallel
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fandom#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#fanfic#joel miller#joel miller angst#infidelity joel miller#joel miller au#joel miller tlou#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us hbo#hbo the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x original character#joel miller x oc#joel smut#joel x reader#joel the last of us#joel x you#joel x oc#angst fic#cheater joel miller
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You're Lying, Right?
Lando x Fem!Reader x Charles
*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: swearing, drinking and mentions of alcohol (might be inaccurate, I don’t drink), format might be weird (this wasn't saving the way I wanted it to),
*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1k
*ੈ✩‧₊˚Summary: Lando and Charles teach you to kiss after you confess that you've never been kissed
.ೃ࿐Request: Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙
The three of you had been drinking for whatever reason, and to be completely honest, you couldn’t exactly remember why the bottles of alcohol had been brought out in the first place. However, you knew the drink in your hand was stronger than the stuff you usually drank, but after the horrible few days you had, it was needed. Its surprisingly sweet smell inviting you to take big gulps. The burn as it passed down your throat numbing the thoughts of your busy life and failed dates. You subconsciously continued to fill your glass with the earthy-fruity liquid, one glass after another– silently watching Charles and Lando interact with one another.
"You're awfully quiet," Lando said from beside you, reaching for your drink to fill it with something new, hesitating when he noticed your slight frown.
"She had a date yesterday; I can only assume it went horribly," Charles added, moving from his spot to lean against the armrest of the sofa.
Lando hummed at the newfound information, disapprovingly shaking his head, deciding you had had enough to drink– knowing another glass would not help alleviate whatever pain you felt. “Don't tell me you're attempting to drown your sorrows with liquor. What even happened on this date of yours?"
"The date itself wasn't the worst; it was actually the best I've had in a while– but when the date ended, he expected a kiss. And I know I have to have my first kiss at some point, but I didn't want to disappoint him."
They stared at you for a long time, letting silence settle in the room– you were suddenly aware of the increased warmth. Regret and embarrassment immediately fill your body, urging you to want to vomit up everything you had been drinking. Of course, you had to have the loosest fucking lips known to man when drunk. Actually, you couldn't fully blame the alcohol; the amount you had consumed only slightly gave you a buzzing feeling– enough to feel tipsy.
“You’re lying, right? I mean, you have to be joking, no?” Lando's small laughter stopped as he noticed your humorless demeanor and sick-looking face– awkwardly clearing his throat, body shifting at Charles's glaring gaze.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone experiences life differently; it just so happens to be that you haven't had your first kiss," Charles nodded in your direction, still glaring at Lando– urging him to add to what he said, hoping to ease your embarrassment.
"Yeah, absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, some people find that sweet."
"Obviously, my date didn't find it sweet... I'm surprised he didn't laugh in my face. Honestly, it fucking pathetic," you let out a dry laugh, picking at the strings of your ripped jeans. You sighed, looking up in time to notice Lando nudging Charles and nodding in your direction. He mouths something to Lando, which you can't quite make out; you'd never been good at reading lips or people. Lando opened and closed his lips a few times as if having a struggle with himself– unsure if he should say something or let Charles take control of the situation.
"We could always teach you how to kiss," he finally says, watching your face for any sort of reaction, noticing the way your eyes widen at the nonchalantness of his words. "–only if you want to, of course," he quickly adds, sensing your hesitation and overall embarrassment over the situation.
You feel the world around you slow down, the noise slowly dissipating– replaced by a low ringing sound you can't quite place. You barely notice yourself nodding, nervously running your hands down the front of your jeans, attempting to get rid of the clammy feeling– which only increased at the soft touch of Lando's hand on your cheek. "It's weird if you keep your eyes open," he whispered, holding back a laugh, not wanting to make you any more embarrassed than you already were. You closed your eyes and swallowed the little saliva you had– an attempt to calm yourself, finding your mouth extremely dry. Your heart quicked at this; what if the kiss was too dry? The desire to vomit returned and your throat tightened itself as a final attempt to hold everything down.
Lando's hand gently caressed your cheek, trailing down to your jaw, pulling you in closer– his warm breath falling against your skin. His lips hovered over your own for a while before they finally connected in an awkwardly stiff kiss. "It wasn't bad," he reassured you, smiling when he noticed the way your eyes nervously bounced around the room– avoiding his own. "Just relax a bit, don't be too stiff."
He leaned forward again, soft lips moving against your own; in complete contrast to the first kiss, this one was looser– relaxed and something you could see yourself enjoying despite the foreign feeling. His hand moved up to tangle itself in your hair, his tongue lightly running against your bottom lip. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol that finally reached your senses helping you relax, but whatever it was that possessed you to open your lips was definitely on your side. The sweetness of your past drinks mixed with the bitterness of whatever he had been drinking. "See, I told you you just needed to loosen up."
"I don't know... I feel like you're only being nice about it."
"I'll tell you the truth; let's see what Lando has taught you– or if he taught you well," Charles says, his voice reminding you that he had been there watching the whole interaction, sitting beside you on the other side of the sofa.
His warm hand pulls you towards him, connecting his lips against yours in a confident kiss. While Lando's kiss had felt firm and loose– slightly messy, this was a lot more calculated. He pulled you closer, hands moving to gently grip the hair at the nape of your neck. "You can definitely impress your next date."
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙
#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc imagine#lando norris imagine#x reader#f1 x female reader#fem!reader
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should be me || leah williamson x reader ||
leah gets jealous when the team tease you about the obvious thing going on between you and rachel daly.
you sat silently in your cubby, ignoring the looks of your teammates. this game against aston villa wasn't overly important, no more than any others you'd played this season. still, you were incredibly nervous about it. your captains were all picking up on it, but they had different approaches for trying to help you.
leah tried to comfort you the best that she could, but it was little more than an awkward shoulder pat and reassuring comment. kim was much more motherly in her attempts to calm you down a bit. however, it was unfortunately katie who was the most effective with her knowing and teasing comments.
"are you excited to see your little girlfriend?" katie asked as she nudged you with her elbow. both you and leah snapped your heads towards katie to glare at her. leah's glare was all anger, but yours was annoyance. "she's been asking a lot about you. i think you've really got a chance."
"whatever," you huffed. truthfully, you would have been more than happy going out with rachel. however, there was a slight problem. she wasn't leah. nobody else was leah, and that was why all of your dates led to absolutely nothing. you wanted to be with leah, but leah didn't want to be with you.
"seriously, she's interested," katie told you.
"drop it mccabe," leah grumbled. katie put her hands up in surrender, muttering about how she only wanted to help her friends. katie didn't understand why leah always got so upset whenever arsenal played aston villa. leah and rachel were friends, at least they were until the teams met up. leah was friendlier with her national teammates who played for chelsea than she was with rachel. "you good?"
"i'm fine leah," you promised her. she smiled as she ruffled your hair a bit. you groaned as you tried to fix your hair again. you were just finishing up whenever kim called everybody to huddle up for a quick pre-game pep talk. you knew that arsenal had this game in the bag, but you still appreciated the little boost to everybody's confidence.
"quick hug before we become sworn enemies?" rachel asked. you hadn't expected to see her waiting for you as the team shuffled out of the locker room. admittedly, you had been a bit eager as you launched yourself into her arms. behind you, leah scoffed as she walked past the two of you. "i'd tell you good luck, but my mates would kill me."
"we don't need it anyway." you gave rachel a cheeky smile before you joined your team. the girls all started to tease you a bit as you found your mascot and spot in line. you knew that you had done it to yourself, but their words still made your cheeks burn bright red with embarrassment.
…
arsenal's win over aston villa was unsurprising. you hadn't scored any goals, but your two assists brought you all the pride you could handle. usually, you found yourself right by leah's side after games like this, but katie was excitedly pushing you away from the team. you were about to question her whenever she directed you towards a downtrodden rachel daly.
"go on, give her something to smile about," katie told you. she gave you a good shove, which leah missed. all the blonde saw was you walking over and sitting next to rachel. the two of you sat on the pitch for nearly 10 minutes together before you got up to take a shower.
you liked longer showers, but a good amount of the hot water had been used up. you walked back into the locker room to the stares of your teammates. this time, instead of katie starting the teasing, it was steph and caitlin. even kim joined in, which was when leah finally lost her cool.
"for the love of god, will you lot stop talking about rachel? i am sick and tired of hearing her name! we get it, she's into (y/n) and maybe (y/n)'s into her too!" leah shouted. you flinched as she stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind her.
"what the hell was that about?" katie asked as she glanced over towards you. in all honesty, you had no idea what leah was on about. she had never been a big fan of the jokes, but it had never seemed like something that would result in such an outburst.
"(y/n), honey, i think you should talk to leah," kim told you. she placed her hand on the small of your back as she guided you onto your feet. you didn't know why, but you were incredibly nervous as you looked for leah. she wasn't mad at you, but there was a chance that she'd blow up on you too. you didn't want to smother her, but the team had decided that you were the best person to find out what was wrong.
"leah?" you called out as you found her in an empty trainer's room. "can i sit with you?"
"surprised you're not off comforting your little girlfriend," leah grumbled. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you stared at her. at the look of confusion on your face, leah suddenly felt a bit guilty. it wasn't you who had been making all the jokes after all. if anything, you were the most innocent in the whole situation. you didn't seem to understand the situation, unlike kim and alessia, who definitely knew all about leah's feelings.
"i don't have a girlfriend. rachel and i are just friends, leah. we grew up in the same neighborhood, we're like sisters," you told her. leah had heard it a million times before, just like most of the team had. "why does it bother you so much whenever they talk about rachel? you two are friends."
"it's not just rachel, it's you and rachel that bother me. this is embarrassing to say out loud, but i get jealous," leah admitted. you didn't understand what leah could possibly have to be jealous about. the two of you weren't dating, and even if you had been, you never ever would have hooked up with rachel. you meant it whenever you said that she was like your sister.
"i'm not yours, so why are you so jealous?" you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice. leah caught onto it, and instead of getting defensive, she decided to play along. if you wanted her to stop, you were more than comfortable telling her so.
"because maybe, i think that you should be mine," leah said. she grabbed onto your jaw and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your lips.
"don't play with me like this," you warned her.
"i'm not playing love," leah told you. you swallowed as your eyes flicked down to her lips. leah caught your gaze and took the hint. she didn't waste any time in teasing you, opting to press her lips against yours instead. you kissed leah back, opening your mouth just enough for the tip of her tongue to dip into your mouth. leah's hands moved to the back of your head as she pulled you even closer.
"take me home." you had been reluctant to break the kiss, but if things had gone any further, you wouldn't have been able to stop yourself. leah seemed to understand that, sighing as she got off of the table.
"not tonight, not yet. i want to do better than that for you. i'll pick you up tomorrow morning for coffee and breakfast. we can see how things go from there, okay?" leah offered.
"i never thought i'd see the day leah williamson turned away such a willing bedmate," you teased.
"trust me, it's not easy by any means, but you deserve better," leah said. you pressed a kiss to both of her cheeks before you leaned in for a final one to her lips. this kiss was softer and sweeter than the one you had just shared, neither one of you pressing too far in any direction. "i'll miss you."
"i never thought you could be such a sap, it's cute."
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𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲?
▌│█║▌║▌║▌│█║
pairing - best friend!sunghoon x afab!reader
wc - 1.4k
synopsis - going out to parties with your mate sunghoon meant you're gonna have the time of your life, but you didn't expect him to show up in the shirt you'd bought for him to be enough to flip your switch.
tw - themes of jealousy, making out, oral (m. receiving), curses, nicknames, lmk if i missed something !
a/n - hiiie ! first work im kinda nervous eekkk. i feel like there's a lot more story than smut idk ? it's literally 4 am i haven't proofread cause im getting dizzy lmaoo. but hopefully you guys like it ! do lmk plss <3
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ ࣭
denying you're in love with your best friend has almost become habitual to you. you don't want to ruin your friendship with him, really, but you just can't help it when he wears those sleeveless tops with his arms out. his fashion sense always stood out to you, the way every piece of clothing would wrap around his perfect body made your attraction towards him get deeper. he wasn't just a hot piece of ass, he was genuinely the sweetest guy someone could ask for. you thought you could control your obsession, but when those girls would eye your guy, you'd lose it.
going to parties was always fun for you guys, you guys would talk until some girls huddle around him and make you blurred. you'd get wasted out of your mind, and he'd drive you home. that's your idea of fun. what you never noticed was sunghoon always pushing all the girls aside to find you in the crowd.
tonight would be no different, you'd have to mask your flustered face around him once again, or so you thought.
you arrived at the party a few minutes before him. you sat at near the kitchen talking to your other friends when you felt his presence next to you. you turn your head around, only to see him wearing the shirt you had bought for him. your mouth went agape seeing him effortlessly look stunning under the flashing lights.
"something wrong?" he asks, running his hand through his hair.
"no... uh- uhm- nothing's wrong you look nice i guess.." you look away to the side mentally slapping yourself for losing it.
"you guess? i literally wore this shirt for you im gonna kill you" his eyes trail your face as he lightly slaps your shoulder.
"yeah park i get it, i said you look nice, be happy" you barely let out, processing him wearing it for you.
a group of girls walk upto him, as always, you knew the drill, your time with him was over now.
"hey sunghoon! i love your shirt, it's so sexy! where did you get it?" they blush and laugh right in his face.
sunghoon unexpectedly wraps his arm around your waist. "y/n got it for me. it looks so good right?"
the smile on those girls disappear as they compliment him and drift into the crowd.
you on the other hand, prayed to god he couldn't hear your heartbeat. such a sudden action made you lose your mind. you turn towards him staring at him laugh at the crowd. "what was that for?" you poke him slightly.
"ouch man, excuse me for showing me what my girl got me" he smirks as he looks into your lovesick eyes.
"stop that shut up!" you nudge his shoulder getting up to take a drink.
he instantly puts his arm around your wrist, pulling you back down. "no getting drunk tonight, im not carrying your ass to your 3rd floor room again bro"
you tsked and landed on his lap, eyes widening as your dress rides up higher.
you got upto move but his hands secured around your waist. "isn't this fun?" he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.
you slap his hand away and get up, now matter now badly you wanted to grind on his lap.
he watches you get up with a pout on his lips. "damn you kinda made me hard there" he smirks and runs his fingers through his hair.
heat rushes to your face at that, mind processing all this is real. "huh? made you hard?"
"yeah, well, you make me go crazy all the time. remember that the guy who disappeared right after he asked for your number?"
"holy shit no way" you gasp processing he actually did that.
"like you're driving me crazy right now" his hand trails up your thigh, your breath hitching at his delicate hands touching your sensitive thighs.
you look up and stare into his eyes, the most beautiful eyes you've seen. you gulp, cupping his face pressing a deep kiss to his soft lips.
sunghoon's eyes widen in suprise as he feels your lip gloss coating his lips. his heart races as he kisses you back eagerly.
actions speak more than words seems to have come to life as you both pour your feelings into the kiss.
as the kiss heats up, his hand grips your waist while his tongue prods at your lower lip. you quickly open your lips allowing him to suck your tongue.
your cherry lipstick and lipgloss coat his skin as he puts his hand on yours and trails it to his crotch. you gasp into his mouth feeling him grow under your palm.
he smiles into the kiss, feeling you gasp as you make contact with his clothed dick. he groans softly into your mouth as he pulls away watching you fix your lipstick. "you're so fucking beautiful"
you smile at him admiring his face full of smudges and kisses from your lips. you get up as he watches your tiny hand pull him into a room.
as you guys enter the room, sunghoon locks the door as you quickly tip toe and latch your lips onto his, not wanting to break the kiss for a moment. he smiles into the kiss as you both topple onto the bed.
after making out once again, you pull off breathless, as you watch him caresses your thighs.
"can i blow you?" you let out watching him turn into a mess.
sunghoon's breath hitches as he looks into your eyes watching you get onto your knees under him. "fuck yes" groans, his hand finding your hair. gently guiding your head between his legs.
you pull down his pants, teasingly palming him over his boxers. watching his annoyed look, you pull his boxers down and lick a bold stripe on his tip.
"ah..fuck" sunghoon bites his lip, his hips jerking up off the bed feeling your warm mouth come in contact with his dick.
you spit on his cock as precum dribbles out of his silt, you've wanted to do this for so long, and now you know he wanted it too. you take your hands and wrap it around his cock as you spread his precum all over his dick. feeling him shudder, you take his tip inside your mouth as you keep licking his silt. you fully take him in your mouth as you begin to bob your head up and down.
"fuck baby, that feels so good" sunghoon pants, gripping your hair tightly. "keep doing that.. f-fuck you're so good" he gasps as he feels you take him deeper, his hips bucking up against your mouth.
looking at his reactions, you moan around his length sending a deep vibration to his throbbing cock.
"fuck !" sunghoon moans loudly, his hips thrusting forward as he feels you vibrate his dick and take it him in your throat. his heart pounds in his chest as he feels the pleasure build up inside him. 'k-keep.. fucking. doing that.." he moans at you looking up at him with doe eyes.
you hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head faster as you feel his grip on your hair tighten. wanting to see him cum, you trail your hands down to play with his sensitive balls.
"oh fuck fuck fuck fuck !" he groans, his moments becoming jerky as he loses control.
you pull off feeling him become a mess under you and put his balls in your mouth. you begin to suck them as you stroke him faster.
"fuck !" sunghoon cries out, his fingers digging into the sheets. he gasps, his hips jerking forward as he feels you suck on his balls. "ffuck.. 'm so close.." he says as he feels his orgasm building up inside him.
you speed up your actions, sucking him messily, feeling his balls tighten in your mouth, his tip turns deep red aching to climax.
"ah...! oh god ! " he moans feeling his body tense up in the pleasure. 'fuck...just like that... don't stop!. he grips your hair tightly urging you to not stop. " 'm g-gonna cum..fuckkk !"
with a final cry of your name, sunghoon moans loudly as his cock throbs and releases ropes of hot cum on your tits. he groans, body shuddering with the intense pleasure.
"fuck.." he breathes out, "that was amazing..." his chest heaving as he watches you trying to catch your breath. "you okay love?, you're really fucking good at this"
"you're so damn hot like that" you say as you smile at him, happy to have him this way for you. you get up and press a small kiss to his lips.
"so beautiful babe" he admires your chest spoiled with his cum. "thank you for finally breaking your shell"
"hey! shut up or no head now" you pout at him before decorating his face with kisses again.
he smirks at your actions. "you must be soaking rn"
"you think park?"
end.
#park sunghoon#park sunghoon smut#park sunghoon hard hours#enhypen#enhypen smut#enhypen park sunghoon#enhypen park sunghoon smut#park sunghoon enhypen#park sunghoon hard thoughts#sunghoon#sunghoon park#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#smutblr#enhablr#sunghoon x reader#enha#enha x reader#park sunghoon ⋆
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