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#can’t wait to get some Free Therapy
hagravenholm · 8 months
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You know what that last post just made me realize? I fucking hate Sundays
#especially now. waking up to a whole day of free time and I’m broke and alone. yippee!#also no w**d. which is horrible.#:/ i want my medicine at least damn lol.#I’m probably just gonna go get ahead of some school work since that’s all my life consists of now is school and a job I can’t fucking stand#which I actually suspect is damaging my health.#since I clock in and work 7+ hours straight w no fucking breaks on this manual labor job#I take my coffee and a breakfast bar for work in the mornings and half the time I don’t even get time to finish eating or drinking my#fucking breakfast until after my shit is over 8 hours later#I want to cry. I’m sorry I know how it sounds. I just fucking hate this life I’m living sm now and a huge part of my can’t wait for it to#be absolutely over in any way. whether it be permanently or miraculous… I kinda don’t care at this point tbh#and one other thing it’s absolutely fucking hilarious to me and by that I mean it makes my blood fucking boil#hearing privileged assholes say just go to therapy hurr durr! jus go to da doctor!#motherfucking I am the working class I do no have health insurance.#not only that but I can’t afford it! lmfao like this is the way the system was set up#for people like me to work and work and work themselves to death but no one fucking gets this bc this country & older people are braindead#and lick the corpo boot clean and say the party line just work harder just go buy therapy forehead.#thanks! I’d actually love to. I’ve actually been wanting a therapist for years now.#people love to talk over me when I try to explain my material reality. it’s just a nightmare trying to get help in a system that so clearly#just wants to suck you dry to the bone for profit use up all your labor and destroy your body and leave YOU w nothing to show for it#but of course I’m just another crazy commie kid even tho I’m 27.#but no please continue everybody to shame me for not having access to therapy.#and isn’t it funny how the onus is just always on me. Like I’m so sorry that you all have to put up w my bad behavior lmao#as if I fucking knifed someone or something. as if I don’t try to apologize when I mess up. but no one EVER ever ever ever ever gives me#any fucking credit for that. for trying my best to fix mistakes I made. whatever.#I’m just complaining what else do I even have left
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landitolover · 4 months
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𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒓, in which, if charles didn’t care for you, maybe a specific red bull driver he doesn’t really like, will.. part one here! ౨ৎ max verstappen x famous!reader
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INSTAGRAM DMS
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maxverstappen1 replied to your story
maxverstappen1
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hey, i’m sorry about the break up
charles never deserved you though
yourusername
haha it’s okay
he didn’t do anything wrong though 😊
it was a mutual break up
maxverstappen1
ohhh, alright
that’s nice to know 😃
TWITTER
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IMESSAGE , MAX & LANDO January 4th, 2024
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max
Lando
lando
Max 🤔
Rare text, what do you need mate?
max
by any chance do you have yns number
lando
oh my god do you
finally have the balls to (attempt) to pull her
max
i’ve always had the balls :/
charles just beat me to it
lando
he was quite charming
max
he’s a cheater, he isn’t very charming
lando
thats why i said ‘was’
max
ok but do u have her number
lando
duh? we’re like this🤞🏼
it’s xxx-xxx-xxx
max
okk thank you very much
lando
of course mate
goodluck you’ll need it
also u will be talked (possibly made fun of)
about in the gc. so be careful..
max
uhm ok mate
bye….. 😃
INSTAGRAM
yourprivate
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Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, landonorris, and 122 others
yourprivate new year, new me 💆‍♀️
fuck🖕🏼men 🤮
January 14th, 2024
View all 14 comments
alex_albon yk damn well ur the biggest lover girl
→ yourprivate uhmm wdym? i’m not
landonorris i know something u dont 🤫
lilymhe its okay baby 😔
→ yourprivate 😔😔💖💖 ily
georgerussell63 wake up
→ yourprivate get out my private bitch 🤮
→ georgerussell63 cunt
→ yourprivate something u never serve..
danielricciardo wow this post ate 🎀
danielricciardo it would eat even more if u reactivated the main
→ yourprivate i’ll be back in like 9 months
→ landonorris HOLY SHIT ARE U PREGNANT
→ yourprivate NO??? WHAT??? WHY WOULD U THINK THAT???
→ landonorris coz u said 9 months and thats like how long it takes to give birth Idk
→ yourprivate u are so slow gn
IMESSAGE , MAX & YOU January 14th, 2024
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xxx-xxx-xx
are you a rose?
cause i think you’re a catch 😉
yn
oh my god 😂 that was such a sucky
pick up line.. who is this? 😭
xxx-xxx-xxx
your future boyfriend, hopefully
yn
how’d u get my number though
i rlly hope you aren’t a stalker 😭
or i’m gonna contact the police
xxx-xxx-xxx
WAIT NO 😭
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it’s max
i’m sorry lol
yn
oh my god 😭
i didn’t see u as the corny pick up line type
you changed this contact to ‘max’
max
what can i say?
also sorry for freaking you out
i asked lando for your number, i hope you don’t mind
yn
nah its fine 😭
max
are you okay though?
you deactivated, saw it all over twitter
yn
yeah no, i’m ok
well not rlly but I don’t wanna like .. talk about it
max
that’s totally fine
but if you ever need someone to talk to
i’m always free
and i have cats so.. free therapy
yn
thats how u get the girl !
max
charlie should have taken some notes
unsent message
haha i guess i know how to get you now ?
yn
you’re a flirt aren’t you
max
only for you
yn
😭😭
i’ll be back in a minute someone messaged me
max
alright
IMESSAGE , CHARLES & YOU January 14th, 2024
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don’t respond
hi angel, can i come over?
i miss your kisses, cherie
can’t we get back together
yn
no we can’t
charles stop it. i don’t want you
you’re the one who cheated on me
if you were going to miss my kisses so bad, why’d you cheat?
don’t respond
it’s a new year though, new us.
yn
no charles
you need to get over it
i mean, i did
don’t respond
get over it? you deactivated on everything
that isn’t getting over it. you’re avoiding your problems
yn
yeah I’m avoiding you, you’re my biggest one
get a new girlfriend
it obviously isn’t that hard for you..
Delivered
INSTAGRAM
yourprivate
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Liked by landonorris, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 102 others
yourprivate men suck….. (i think he’s cute)
January 17th, 2024
View all comments
lilymhe u better not be talking about ch*rles
→ yourprivate no
landonorris is it ***
→ yourprivate 🤔🤔🤔???
alex_albon i thought u weren’t a lover girl
→ yourprivate i’m not
→ alex_albon caption says otherwise
georgerussell63 yw for the cake
→ yourprivate thanks georgie 😊
INSTAGRAM
charles_leclerc
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Liked by carlossainz55, pierrepasly, arthur_leclerc, and 1,309,192 others
charles_leclerc overrated
January 23rd, 2024
View all 1,099 comments
user ohh ik yn is laughing at his silly ass
user he’s going dark 🖤⛓️
user he wanna be aesthetic so fuckin bad
user this is not it ‼️ archive this post ‼️
user yeah, ur overrated
→ user we luv a self aware king
user not everyone dragging him in the comments 😭
→ user cause we all love yn 💆‍♀️
lewishamilton be so fr you have no sense of fashion, m8 😂
carlossainz55 🖤
landonorris yeah this post is not ittttt
alex_albon alright mate….
danielricciardo who did not cheer! 😂😭
pierregasly 🔥
TWITTER
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TWITTER
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IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU February 14th, 2024
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max <3
hey :)
happy valentines 🤍
yn
hii maxie
happy valentines! 💌
max <3
i bought you a little something
since you love snoopy
and me 😉
yn
you got one thing right
max <3
wowww
nevermind then
yn
kidding 🙄🙄
max <3
i’m picking you up
is an hour enough time
yn
yess
see you sooon 😊🤍
max <3
🤍
IMESSAGE, “YN FANCLUB 😊” February 15th, 2024
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landoooo
how much r we betting that he did it
alexito
£100 he didn’t
lil 🎀
£100 he did
landoooo
i’m team he did it
georgie
he aint do shit 😂🔥
i’m team he didn’t do it
lil 🎀
is alex holding u gunpoint ???
landoooo
facts
max isn’t a pussy he def said something at least
yn
hi guyyyyssss
what are you guys talking about
georgie
we’re betting on ur little bf
did he ask you out
lil 🎀
ok wow 😭 straight to the point
yn
he did 😊😊😊
lil 🎀
HOLY SHIT
HAHAHAA
ALEX, GEORGE,
landoooo
PAYYY UPPP!!!! 💰
alexito
GTFOOO
georgie
🔥🔥 my ass is not paying
yn
u better pay them
also £100 is crazy???
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look at what he got me 🥹 and he’s such a cutie
lil 🎀
SNOOPY 😭 I WISSHH
so down bad
🥹🥹 the cutest
yn
i cried 😔 he’s adorable
alexito
u guys are so cute
i hope it lasts!!
landoooo
daniel asked if u bringing back the main
cause like ur happy now
yn
2025 my year
plus u guys are in my priv why does it matter
georgie
right lmfao 😭
congrats on the bf though 🥳
hopefully he doesn’t turn out like our
good ol’ friend charlie!!!!
alexito
mate sthu
respectfully
georgie
wow that makes it a whole lot better, thanks m8
lil 🎀
how about u both sthu
INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
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Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, redbullracing, and 1,220,218 others
maxverstappen1 and here’s to my baby :)
June 3rd, 2024
View all 1,101 comments
user didn’t expect a soft launch from max fuckin verstappen 😨
user HELLO???
user this girl has style.. dressing him up? 😍😍
→ user I noticed the style change, didn’t expect all this tho
user i just know shes hot
user stop soft launching i need to know who it is
danielricciardo lucky man
→ maxverstappen1 i am very lucky
landonorris cutie
→ maxverstappen1 😘
→ alex_albon it’s official: lando is the one getting soft launched
→ landonorris shhh people aren’t supposed to know
lilymhe she’s the loml
georgerussell63 🤮🤮🤮
→ maxverstappen1 get out - the girl
→ georgerussell63 🤓🤓☝️☝️
IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU June 13th, 2024
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max <3
the sunset is in two hours
i’m picking you up
and we’re going to the beach to watch it
yn
😭😭 okay max
max
see you soon :))
yn
yeah, i love you 🤍
max <3
say that again in person
not over text 🙄
yn
okay max 😭😭
max <3
i love you though
INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
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Liked by lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 103,021 others
maxverstappen1 starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights.
June 13th, 2024
View all 1,001 comments
user AAUGGHH IM GOING CRAZY
user why are the captions so romantic… secret artist ? 😨
→ user lol she’s probably writing them for him
user charles gtfo 😭😭
user i love them (idk who she is)
landonorris 4 months tmr cutie 😍
→ maxverstappen1 i love you baby 🥰
→ user 4???? WHAATTT
alex_albon tell her to stop talkin abt u bro 🤦
→ maxverstappen1 no can do buckaroo
redbullracing our driver sure has some pretty good captions
lilymhe my gf 💖💖
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IMESSAGE, CHARLES & YOU August 5th, 2024
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don’t respond
you aren’t smart
yn
huh
don’t respond
you’re dating max?
is this just some petty thing ? cause i don’t like him?
yn
uhm no lmfao 😭
yeah i’m dating him though
don’t respond
is he better than me?
yn
yeah lol
100%
don’t respond
you know, he isn’t really the type to commit
yn
noted ? pretty sure he would’ve left by now
if that were the case lol
don’t respond
ok.
yn
lmfao.
You have blocked this person
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)
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Liked by landonorris, redbullracing, alex_albon, and 2,871,292 others
yourusername 🎀
October 1st, 2024
View all 3,202 comments
user OH MY GOD
user the man..
user i fell to my knees
user who is that
user my girl came back better than ever
user FINALLY ????
user she came back and started to soft launch a man gn
lilymhe wowwww 😍😍 i missed ur main acc posts
danielricciardo SERVED CUNT 💋
→ yourusername mwa 😚
danielricciardo i prayed for times like these
maxverstappen1 last slide kinda kinky
→ yourusername u wish, never horny on the main
→ user LMFAOO
landonorris ooooo let the light innnn
georgerussell63 odd post for ur first one back
→ yourusername sthu
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
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Liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 1,200 others
yourusername redbull is my fav btw
October 8th, 2024
View all 2,292 comments
user her smile ☹️🤍
user THAT DRINK IS SO YUM
user my aesthetic queen 🐳
user mystery man u are lucky
user she’s so captivating
user UGHHH 😔😔☹️☹️
charles_leclerc drink company’s don’t suit u
→ maxverstappen1 lol
→ user LMFAOO
→ user embarrassing urself...
redbullracing 💙💙💙
→ yourusername 🩵
landonorris papaya better actually ☝️🤓
→ yourusername errmm 🤓
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
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Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, landonorris, lilymhe, and 3,110,210 others
yourusername i want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck.
October 10th, 2024
View all 1,209 comments
user m.. suspicious
user is that not max’s new cat
user shes so cutesy
user IS THE CAPTION A LYRIC HELLOOO
user white men always win her over
landonorris mmmmmmmmmm 3️⃣🏆
→ yourusername sthu😭😭😭
→ user bro tryna give us easter eggs
lilymhe that bagel looks rlly fucking good
→ yourusername IT WAASSS
danielricciardo my bf guys
→ yourusername 😍 -m
redbullracing 🐐🐐🐐
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
yourusername
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Liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing and 3,101,119 others
yourusername new ep soon. 6 songs. ‘solo, tiwwchnt, ciwyw, dbm, sdg, and getaway car.” i hope u enjoy it.. out the 12th ! <3
November, 4th 2024
View all 5,110 comments
user i’m in a getaway car too queen
user “and here’s to my real friends” 2019 rookies & lily 🥲
→ yourusername my babies 4eva
user DONT BLAAAMEEE MEEE, LOVE MADE ME CRAZY 😩
user who cried and screamed listening to this album
user i brought a 🔪 to a 🔫 fight
user AHHHHHHHH
user thank u for yn’s not so mystery man but thank u for this ep ☝️☝️
landonorris used to being the GOAT
→ yourusername 🐐
danielricciardo getaway car on LOOP 🔂
maxverstappen1 but would u run away with me ?
→ yourusername yes!
→ user WHAATT
→ user this confirms everything basically
lilymhe so proud of u wifey 🤍🤍
→ yourusername mwaaa 💋
georgerussell63 i support this
→ yourusername thanks pretty princess
→ georgerussell63 nevermind
alex_albon lily and i will be listening on repeat
TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
maxverstappen1
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Liked by yourusername, landonorris, lilymhe, and 3,440,292 others
maxverstappen1 you said you love me, i say something back.
November 14th
View all 3,101 comments
user THE CHARLES SHADDEEE
user oh my hod. i adore them.
user ugh they’re the most bf gf couple ever
user charles could never LOOL
user these pictures im on the floor
user they’re my endgame
lilymhe she’s so cute in these pics
→ maxverstappen1 she’s always cute
danielricciardo FAVS
landonorris when they solo >
→ maxverstappen1 you’re the reason why i’m with her, thank you 😄
→ landonorris of course mate
christianhorner congratulations! happy for the both of you 🍾
georgerussell63 this is so goat coded
→ maxverstappen1 wow thanks
yourusername happy 9 months baby 💋
→ maxverstappen1 ik houd van je 🤍
→ user NINE. MONTHS.
→ user STOP NINEE…😭😭😭
yourusername wow we’re so adorable
arthur_leclerc thank you for making yn happier than my brother ever did 🙏🏼
→ maxverstappen ofc m8
→ user LMFAO EVEN HE’S TIRED OF CHARLES
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౨ৎ finally… i posted… so SO so sorry for not posting in awhile, this took so long to post but 😭😭 here u gooo…. also thank u guys so much for 400 !!! i love u all <333 💋
taglist: @landovilla @moneygramhaas @ch3rryknots @amoosarte @1655clean @dark-night-sky-99 @kortneej81 @he6rtshaker ౨ৎ
2K notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Dick loves your plushie collection.
He doesn’t find it embarrassing in the slightest! If anything he finds it more offensive that you’d think it embarrassing having plushies as an adult. After he himself has a plush bunny dressed in his nightwing attire -escrima sticks and all- that he won at an arcade game a while back perched on the top of his bed back home.
He calls it dick jr and cuddles it when he has a rough night of crime fighting.
So he’s the last person to ever cast judgment on your plush collection.
If anything he lets his imagination run wild with them and takes full advantage of them. So if the instance came where you weren’t home, Dick would always send you photos and mini videos of him taking excellent care of a plush hare called Sir John Roderick Wellington the third by tucking him in bed at night, pretending to brush his teeth, etc
Or he’d make enact a photo shoot with a couple of them and send the results to you as your left asking where’d he manage to get all sorts of accessories for them…you’re still awaiting the answer to this day. Another thing he’d do with them is take them with him as company while he’s doing mundane chores in the apartment and act as though the plush is helping him.
You were quick to catch on that Dick having a hell of blast with it with how often he spammed your phone with a plethora of photos and videos that kept you up to date with the daily misadventures of your plushy. And yet you weren’t any better either as you kept them all in a album in your phone and are still wondering why your phone keeps informing you that you are running low on space…
Your favourite picture of your plushy was one where Dick had it tucked in bed, a picture of you on its lap, meanwhile Dick’s face could be seen peaking up from the bottom corner of the screen followed by the caption; ‘he misses you and can’t wait for you to come home and cuddle him. Oh and also me. :(
It’s became your Home Screen now and it was the best decision you’ve been made because it never failed to make you smile even on a bad day.
Jason loves it when you wear his clothes.
It’s free therapy for the man seeing you in his clothes and you can quote me on that.
He fucking loved coming home to see you do your own thing while looking all comfortable and relaxed in his shirts or hoodies doing so. For all Jason could ever want for you was for you to feel comfortable with him however you saw fit.
Also it gives him the more reason to stare at you shamelessly, well more than he did already, but you get the point. Jason is a simple man who’s not above letting it known how much he absolutely adores you.
So you wearing his clothes only added onto that adoration that he had for you. No one else could be more perfect in his eyes then you and he stands by that that statement.
‘You look perfect.’ -Jason
‘Jason, I’m wearing sweats and one of your shirts while eating pizza.’ -you
‘Yeah, perfect.’ -Jason
‘Doofus.’ -you, smiling.
Some days Jason would even go out of his way to leave his clothes on your side of the bed as a hint that he wants you to wear it for the day. Other days however he would be outright and blunt with the fact that he’d rather have you in his clothes than your own at this point.
‘Why are you wearing your clothes?’ - Jason
‘Because they’re my clothes and I feel bad wearing all of yours all the time.’ -you
‘Well I on the other hand don’t, take this shirt and go back into our bedroom and change.’ - Jason says as he takes off the shirt he was wearing and hands it to you, uncaring of the fact that he was shirtless in the living room.
‘You’re being dramatic Jason.’ - you as you take the warm shirt from his hands.
‘No I’m not, I just like you in my clothes a lot better than anything else.’ - Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest.
‘You’re getting jealous over clothes now?’ - you asked, raising a brow.
‘Yes.’ Jason responds instantly. ‘Now for the sake of my sanity go back and put my shirt on please.’
You kiss his cheek before leaving for the bedroom to change. ‘If you insist.’
‘I heavily insist chipmunk.’ - Jason says as he watched you walk away before following after to grab another shirt.
Jason loves it when you’re in his clothes. It’s his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.
917 notes · View notes
froggibus · 1 year
Text
The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy
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Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader
Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours
CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)
OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3
RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!
————
The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.
It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent. 
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.
“How was it?”
You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.
He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.
You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.
Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.
Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”
“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.
He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.
It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.
You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.
You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.
He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”
“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”
He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”
You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.
“Leon?”
He hums in response.
“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”
“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”
You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”
“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”
Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.
When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.
Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.
After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.
Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you
You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.
“Come in!” He shouts.
You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”
“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”
You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.
Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.
He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.
He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.
You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding. 
You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.
You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.
When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.
Did he leave to go get something? 
You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.
Y/N: where’d you go?
You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.
Message Not Delivered. Try Again?
You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.
You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.
It doesn’t help.
Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little. 
You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.
Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.
Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?
Message Not Delivered. Try Again?
The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.
A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.
It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.
It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.
It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.
You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.
You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.
Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?
He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.
But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.
He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.
He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro.  He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball. 
You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.
You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.
“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.
You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.
“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks. 
You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”
“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him. 
“C’mere,” he mumbles. 
You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact. 
“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.
“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”
He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”
“Then I’m always yours.”
Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him. 
3K notes · View notes
s-4pphics · 18 days
Text
click!: in frame. 3 (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: you crave redemption more than love. [idk au]
WORD COUNT: 17.2k
WARNINGS: professionalphotographer!ellie, strugglingartist!oc who’s black, FLUFF????, angst, mentions of deceased family members, weed, sexual tension, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MDNI, they fuck a lot, fingering, pussy eating/face sitting, tribbing YAAY, slut shaming but consensual, fucking on camera, dirty talk mmm, STRAP SUCKING!!! SUCK MORE STRAPS!!, squirting, i think that’s it but i don’t remember tbh
A/N: omg finally….. heyyy idk when i’ll return to this fic tbh …. 😞😞 but i love them so much and i always will. fav couple imo… HOPE THIS MAKES UP FOR THE LONG WAIT BYEEEEE LOL
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Ellie’s trying her hardest not to panic. 
Her car is quiet, not a sound coming from either of you, ears comforted by the whistling winds and rustling trees… And Pickle’s quiet coos. She sits in your lap as your thumb caresses her head; Ellie’s can see how she looks up at you, eyes full of love. She's never going to stop reminding you of how much your kitty missed your presence.
Her mind races with unanswered questions, one of the main being why you haven’t said anything to her since the two of you left her father’s home. She yearns to hear your voice. 
She yearns for you… but you’re not yourself, at least from what she can remember. She can’t shake the curiosity that’s been pestering her since you’ve reconnected; What the hell happened to you while you were apart? The energy you brought to your formerly shared home was irreplaceable: your midnight rambles, your nerve-wracked pacing, your cheery laughter… Your laugh. She misses it terribly. It’s not the same. Nothing about you is. 
Ellie’s itching to ask, but her father’s statement blares red like a sonic in her mind. 
Did she tell you she’s in therapy?
You want to talk… You suggested it! Ellie’s tummy twists in anxious knots, hands tightly gripping the leather of the steering wheel. 
… What the hell happened to you? 
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“We… we can sit anywhere.” Ellie whispers to you. 
She stands next to you by the front door while Pickle wanders around with her toy mouse between her teeth. You nod in acknowledgment but your gaze stays forward. Ellie peers downward when she hears subtle brushing of skin, catching glimpses of your thumbnail digging into your index finger. She grabs your hand to get you to stop. “Sit with me?” She asks gently, and you allow her to pull you towards the black cushions. You finally sit and she follows, keeping some space between you. Every bit of her attention is on you; She hopes it isn’t suffocating. 
“Your…” 
Ellie follows your gaze at your croak, inspecting the framed photo of young her and her parents at her high school graduation sitting proudly on the bookshelf. Your pupils are overcast in sorrow, and Ellie’s heart jerks painfully. 
“Your dad’s really nice.” You whisper. 
Ellie wasn’t expecting that, but she nods, “He… he really likes you. I know he was a little… standoffish, but he likes y—“
Her words are cut when two large tears dribble down your face like rain on glass. She scoots closer, brows furrowed in concern, one hand intertwining with yours while the other cups your wet cheek. “Talk to me, babe. What… what’s going on?” Ellie pushes as softly as she can. She doesn’t know how to help if you don’t say anything. 
“… Is it me? D-Did I do something?” She asks with a heavy heart, and you instantly shake your head. Your free hand comes up to land on top of hers, warmth radiating off your fingertips. 
“Y… Your dad’s r-really nice.” You exhale before releasing a choked sob. Ellie’s up in an instant, squatting in front of you as she tries to get you to calm down, telling you to breathe, to count, but you don’t. Ellie catches your weight as you fall against her, arms wrapping around you as she whispers comforts in your ears, blinking away her own tears. You’re holding her like she’s slipping from your fingers, each guttural sob synched with the squeezes on her shoulder. 
“Shhh, s’okay… S’gonna be okay.” 
Her whispers aren’t only for you. They’re for her, too. 
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“Ellie…” 
“Yeah, babe?” Ellie’s lips brush against your forehead, and you sniffle. 
“… Ever been to therapy?” 
“Um… no?” She ponders with a huff at the ceiling, “I thought about it, but…” 
“It’s really hard,” Ellie’s heartbeat sounds like the beating rain outside, flowing into your ears like water on rocks, “Never do it. This shit sucks,” You snicker wetly. 
“… Noted,” She laughs softly and plants a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes shut when she whispers, “Wanna talk about it?” 
You nod into her neck as she rubs your back, “I just… I dunno where to start…” Your mind races, brain filled to capacity with every mistake you’ve made in the past year. 
“Just… say how you’ve been feeling,” She suggests. Her heartbeat seems louder… or is that yours? Your tears fall from your cheek and into her shirt. 
“I just… really miss my mom.” You say shakily. Ellie sighs from above and holds you tighter. 
“Me, too… it hits me out of nowhere sometimes,” She mutters, “We weren’t even… close like that, but it hurts…” 
“What happened?” 
“She died.” She says plainly. 
You snort, “N — not that! I mean why weren’t you guys close?” Ellie mumbles oh, fuck, sorry between hearty laughs and you smile. 
“I dunno… like, whenever I think back on good times, my dad’s always there. I never…” She pauses and your head rises to look at her face. She’s deep in thought, and you patiently wait for her to resurface. You brush the flyaways back from her face. 
“She just… wasn’t there…” She mumbles, “And when she was, we fought. All the time…” 
There’s so much more that she wants to say — you can see it in her eyes, how the trees in them brush with memory — but she chooses not to elaborate. She nervously fiddles with the charm of the necklace around your throat.
“My dad was like that.” You whisper back. 
“What happened?” 
You grin, “He died.” Ellie’s brows droop in confusion. 
“… I’m sorry?… ” 
“Don’t be. He ruined my life… Your dad’s really nice, by the way.” 
A small smile stretches across her face, “So I’ve been told.” Her fingers travel over your face, over your nose, “Wanna talk about him?” 
“… I think I should…” 
“Up to you,” She whispers and your chest nearly bursts, “I’m listening—“
Meow!
Ellie cranes her neck to look up at Pickle sitting on the arm of the couch, right above her head. “Sorry… we’re listening.” You giggle and pat Pick-Pick’s head before laying your head onto Ellie’s shoulder. Words escape before you can stop them. 
“I hit rock bottom when he died.” You breath wobbles, “Like, I thought I was there already when I dropped out but—“
“You dropped out?” 
Oh… You never told her. Fuck. You’re pitiful, “… Yeah…” 
“Why?” She asks, concerned. You cringe in embarrassment. 
“Just… I was sad. I couldn’t focus on anything. My grades were fucked, regardless, so.” You can practically hear the whirs in Ellie’s brain turning with a billion questions. You answer the most recurring. 
“No, it wasn’t because you moved out.” 
“… I’m sor—“
You sit up, “Don’t you dare. Stop.” 
The sadness in her eyes is evident, but she quiets. And then stands and bolts to her room like a fucking track star. 
“E — what the fuck! Ellie!”
You rush after her but she’s miles ahead, already chest to chest with you in her bedroom entryway…
Or chest to folder. 
No fucking way. 
“I — I owe you this.”
“Ellie—“
“Please.” She whispers, “I want you to see it.” 
After all this time. Her fucking portfolio. 
“It’s the most… important thing to me. I want you to see.” 
Her hand is gentle when it closes around yours and guides you to the couch. She simply sets the leather binder on your lap and kisses your cheek. 
“Consider it my therapy… or whatever.” She huffs. 
You laugh wetly. Why the fuck are you crying? 
Listening to her explain her passions to you was… an enlightening roller-coaster. She’s captured imagery that reflects her emotions in the most subtle, but brilliant of ways; there’s joy, there’s anger, there’s sadness, there’s loss. You two were a wailing mess when she dedicated an entire section honoring her mother. Her father. They have the most beautiful relationship. 
Romance was last. And it’s filled with you in red, right in front of that makeshift backdrop from your old apartment. You’re never gonna stop crying. 
There was a time where you couldn’t look at yourself no matter what you did, completely shrouded in self-hatred and neglect, but seeing these photos of you from another perspective, from Ellie’s perspective… 
You’re a wreck, but she holds you. Tells her how pretty you are. How happy she is to have you back. 
Your sobs are eventually tamed by her rubs on your back, the kisses on your forehead. She hasn’t said it, and neither have you, but you feel it. That electrifying pull that takes over whenever you are separated from each other. 
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You wake up with a dead arm on Ellie’s couch… with Ellie’s arms around you. Your heart’s rhetorical legs are kicking its feet in the air with sparkles in its eyes. You attempt to adjust your position to alleviate the static in your hand, but Ellie’s arms squeeze around you with a grumbled whine. You hold back a snicker. 
“Ellie.” You whisper. “C’mon, babe, my arm’s asleep.” 
Another irritated whine. You laugh quietly and push your hips back to put some space between you. A bolt of electricity flies down your spine when a cold, stern hand latches onto your hip. 
“You know better. Stop.” 
Your brow arches curiously, “Whatchu gon’ do, Ms. Bott —“ You gasp, “Ellie, holy shit, are you a bottom?” 
“… We’re talking about this now?” She croaks, sleep cracking in her throat. 
“I’m curious! You’re great at it so I had to ask.”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” 
You scoff, “Um, it’s a compliment. You take it like a G. Say thank you.” You push back again for emphasis. Another threatening squeeze on your hip. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth to hide a smile. She's so cute.
“I said stop. And I’m not a bottom.” 
“Okay, lemme paint the picture. Fuckin’ milf from the club asks you to slide some silicone in her ass for shits and gigs. You doin’ it or nah,” You snark and push back harder on her, “You squirted in my mouth six tim—“
A thundering smack rings through Ellie’s silent living room as pain ripples through your asscheek. “I’m not a bottom.” She says in your ear and you attempt to hide a shudder. 
“Light work, no reaction,” You groan and Ellie snickers, rubbing over the sizzling skin to soothe the ache. “You gotta strap?” 
“Do you ever stop talking.” She snaps in annoyance and lets you go. You take the opportunity to jump in her lap, suddenly full of energy. Her hands land on your hips to steady you. “I don’t have a fucking strap.” She mumbles, eyes full of your tits.
“I know that’s right, baby! Hashtag BringBackTribbing,” You laugh giddily. This is the most alive you’ve felt in a year, “I look good on top? Huh?” You ask, goofily squeezing your breasts over your shirt. You jiggle them for emphasis, and Ellie flushes. 
Ellie tries to hide a smile, “You’re—“
“Hot? Sexy? The best you’ve ever had?” You suggest playfully. 
“— Incredibly annoying.” 
“Annoyinglyyy sexy?” You hum, and Ellie’s eyes twinkle with adoration. You smile and grab her hands, lacing her fingers with yours. She squeezes gently before inspecting your fit. Her dad’s fit, moreso. You hope Mr. Miller doesn’t hate you for snagging his drip… again.
“Did you pack a bag?” She asks quietly. You shake your head, kissing her knuckles. She flushes. 
“We gotta get you some stuff… if you wanna stay a little longer?” 
Your jaw drops in excitement, “Are we… officially U-Haul lesbians?” 
“I didn’t say that—“
“Don’t have to,” Your voice lowers as you unravel your hands, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Wanna get me some trinkets to remember me by? Fucking…” You ponder, “Forget Me Nots or whatever?” You peck her ear, and her hands grab your ass. 
“T-That’s not what that means, you idiot.” Her back arches when your lips travel down her neck, “Are you in heat or something, what the fuck—“
“Mhm,” You grind down on her and she sighs, “been outta commission for a very… very long time.” You gasp like you’re dying, “Must… drink… life-blood—“
“Does tribbing —“ You move your hips faster, and whines escape you and Ellie, “aw, shit — fuck, cause chaffing?”
“Tryna find out?” You gasp when your clit catches on fabric. 
“Might fuckin’ be — fuck, like that —“ Ellie’s nails dig into your hips to help guide you on top of her, right where she needs you. The friction on your clit makes your thighs quiver. Ellie cranes her neck to connect your lips in a simmering kiss; your hands plant above her on the arm of the couch for leverage, pushing your hips down hard; She gets lost in it, no longer being able to keep up with your thirsty kisses as she whines for more. 
“Can’t fuckin’ — fuck — wait —“
You try to fight against her tight grip on your hips, but she’s forbidding, stern with her clutches. She pushes you up until there’s room to pull and kick her pants off, and you follow, tugging your shirt up and over your head before clumsily yanking your pants off, tossing the discarded fabric across the back of the couch. She’s upright when your lips reattach in a fiery kiss, tongues swirling messily against one another, releasing sighs into each other's mouths. 
Ellie’s hands are suddenly shy where they sit on your waist, unsure, silently pleading for guidance. You sightlessly grab her wrists and tug them up until they rest over your sports bra. She gasps in your mouth when your hands press down on top of hers so she can cup you, feeling your nipples rise underneath the fabric. You allow her hands to wander, squeezing at your chest and tweaking your nipples, body shuddering with every brush of cold fingertips against your skin. 
Heat pools in your underwear as she massages all over your skin; your chest, your thighs, the plush around your hips, anywhere she can reach, she’s on, icing your skin like snow. You’re shocked at how delicate her touch is despite the coarseness of her skin, the complete opposite of yours. You tore her apart the night prior, sunk as deeply as you could into her brain, her core, the concave of her spine; touched her from muscle memory. Almost instinctive, but she’s curious. Not controlling or domineering. She’s explorative and unfamiliarly soft, and you’re stunted, but the wettest you’ve ever been and she’s barely touched you. 
Her hands travel rise to pull your bra up, plush lips smacking against your collarbones as it's tossed to the floor. 
You’ve never not rushed to have sex; it’s always desperate and fast, but satiating for the time being. It does the job, gives you a boost of energy, gets you through the day until you’re craving it again. The dirtiness of it all… Ellie doesn’t feel like that. Dirty. 
Her hands feel like flowers against you, littering your formerly bruised skin with petals, orchids replacing the stood hairs on your neck and arms. The array of florals and green in her gaze are being passed onto you, and it’s making you lightheaded; it’s almost overwhelming. You’re torn between hiding from and searching for her. 
“Ellie…” 
She doesn’t answer, just traces your spine with her mouth on your neck. 
“E-Ellie…?” You’re unsure of what to say, but you need to know that she’s here with you. 
“Am I doing it right?” She hums against you, and your clit jumps in confirmation. She’s doing it too right and you need her closer. You nod and tug her bun out of her hair, fingers entangling with soft pili, strands softer than wool. 
“Lay down?” She’s not demanding… Your heart pulls at her tone. You pull away and keep your gaze down, at the wall, anywhere but hers until you're laying back on the couch, the cushions melding with your spine. Ellie’s mouth returns, dousing you in affections. She’s careful, each breath on your hips making you jerk. For the first time, your hands are stiff, frozen. You don’t know where to touch, so you keep them clenched by your face. 
“Good, baby?” She lures and you hum in approval. You’re not good. You’re about to start crying and your heart is fit to burst, to splatter and bleed tears all over her eggshell walls. You don’t know what to do. 
You feel wanted with every grab at your tits, how she inches your underwear down to litter kisses along the sensitive, each trail of her tongue littered with desire. Each breath you take tremors. 
I missed you so much, she keeps whispering against your skin, I missed you, baby. Couldn’t stop thinking about you when I left. You say it back, how sorrowful you were whenever she crossed your mind, how you craved her in the wee hours of the night for years, fiending to breathe her scent. Her smell is wafts of blooming roses, fresh rainfall, the sun rays peeking out from behind the clouds and dousing the streets in light. 
Your underwear is down in seconds, but she doesn’t rush; makes you wait for her touch. You beg her shamelessly, hips twitching with every peck on your thighs, leaving maroon and purple blemishes on your legs before inching up, up, up, until her breath hits your dew. Your thighs quake when she licks experimentally; one quick swipe between your folds has you gasping, nails piercing the skin of your palm. Another swift flick over your pulsing bud, and you’re whimpering, hips bucking. 
Look at me… Look at me, look at me, look at me, please… 
The desperation in her voice lifts you onto your elbows, neck arched downward until you’re met with her clammy forehead and soft eyes, patiently waiting for your instruction. You smirk down at her with a scoff.
“You’re cute,” You mumble huskily and her feet kick like a doll behind her, kissing your inner thighs. 
“Show me what to do?” she asks with doe-eyes, nibbling at the skin. 
“Gimme your hand,” she extends her arm to you and you hold her wrist, licking her middle finger like a kitten. Her thighs press together and you smile, tongue darting out to swirl around the tip before sucking it between your lips. She makes a pained noise against your flesh when you pull her digit into the plushness of your hollowed cheeks, pushing her fingers in until in cranes at the back of your wet muscle. Your throat closes when you gag and she lets up with a soft sorry. An uncontrollable giggle garbles around her finger at her dark cheeks and scared eyes. You release her with a wet pop!
“You good. Ready?” Her head bobs. 
“Hm…” You ponder, “Pussy is like… like an Xbox controller.” 
Ellie blinks. “… Okay.” 
You explain, “You really gotta feel around for the… buttons and whatever. You needa press them from the inside and… outside. At least for me… Everyone’s different—“
“I’m not fucking everyone, I’m fucking you.” She states with confidence, and wetness gushes out of you like a faucet. She eyes your cunt like a predator to a bleeding carcass, lips curling over her fangs at the flesh between your thighs. 
Your voice shakes, “J-Just sayin’… You just gotta touch me and I’ll tell you if it’s doing the job or not.” She nods and her gaze changes. It’s focused and raunchy when her thumb lands on your clit; she wastes no time, pressing deep, calculated circles over the throbbing button, drawing more wetness from between your walls. You eye her like a hawk, how she traps her lip between her teeth, how she stares at your pussy with unwavering devoutness; she replies to every last one of your moans with her own, like she can feel the pleasure she’s spoiling you with whipping deep in her tummy. 
Her caress picks up when your hips move on their own, bucking into her fingers, desperately seeking pleasure that you’ve abstained from for so long; it electrifies the pit of your gut, your jaw slackening when a curious finger inches down until it reaches your leaking entrance. 
Okay? She asks quietly, and you nod earnestly. Please, baby, please, you beseech, walls hugging around the tip of her finger. She’s slow as she stretches you, gasping at the feel of you choking her lone digit, her hips twisting down into the cushion of the couch for friction. Pride grows hot in your core whenever her thigh twitches, dragging her pussy against the couch at every ragged breath. 
You hold a hand up to show her when she asks for help, arching your finger like a hook, and she follows wordlessly. Your head drops onto the couch when she grazes past that ridge that makes you see stars. You feel her smirk on your clit before she takes it in her mouth. Your lips part over every curse squeaked at the ceiling; it’s too much too fast, it’s sensitive, you can’t breathe, but she’s taking it, hitting right where you need, pressing all your fucking… Xbox buttons—
Ellie’s fucking messy; she’s trying to replicate your efforts from last night: every spit-filled swirl of your tongue is now being thrown back onto you… in the best way. She’s a quick learner. Spit globs on your clit, mixes with the juices that build around your spasming hole while she whines like a bitch. Her mouth glistens in the darkness and your eyes cycle. 
Wanna fuck you so baaad, what the fuck, she whines to herself over your cresting moans, begging for another, begging for her to reach deeper inside you. You feel so good, you taste so good, holy fuckin’ Christ—
Every word on your clit sends vibrations up to your ribcage, right in your chest where your heart pounds for her. The couch dips with her quick movements before you feel her breath on your cheeks, smell yourself on her, fingers still nudged inside you. Your eyes flutter open and a smile stretches, “Hi.” You whisper. 
She smacks a wet kiss on your cheek, “Hi. Am I doing okay?” She twists her fingers against your nerves and you gasp, reply sharp. She hides her satisfied grin with another kiss on your cheek, and you can’t even snap how you want to. You’re desperate to tip, to reach that peak you’ve neglected for so long, begging her please, baby, make me cum, in her ear, seducing her until her fingers dig deep inside you again. 
You praise her between jumbled swears to the heavens, and she keens, whimpering into your neck when she feels how tight your walls get on her, pushing another finger past the tightness. You’re mine, It’s a promise and she groans into your neck, fucking you harder, You’re mine, you’re fuckin’ mine, m’gonnacum! Your tongue unravels like thread and you lose focus on everything except the girl on top of you; you feel the forbidden words resting on the edges of your teeth and ready to spill, the ones you swore to never speak again; but still, the unfiltered emotions rush through your blood as euphoria spills onto her hand, dripping down to the couch. 
E-El! Ffuuuck — oh, god I l — agh! 
Your orgasm splatters thick all over your inner thighs, coating her fingers in white as she works you; you feel her smiling even as your brain wracks, she likes this… Maybe she’s not a fucking bottom. Your ears ring while a speckle of drool dribbles from your chin; she licks it up before kissing you, moans trading between both your mouths, your taste coating your tongue. It’s not until her thumb traces your clit again that your legs slam shut on her. She snickers darkly into the kiss and fights against the muscles in your legs. 
I’m not fuckin’ done, gimme this pussy, she grits over your protests; tries to nudge her fingers even deeper inside you, but she’s struggling; you’re winded up so tight. How are you still cumming this fucking hard? You grab her wrist as tight as you can, and she scoffs, letting up. 
“Fine. Meanie.” One last press to your mouth and she’s up, sitting on her knees while you whither, trying to fucking recover whatever strength you preserved… None.
You muffle into the pillow, “Ellie, what the fuck—“
Your slurs are cut with concern, a gentle hand on your thigh. For the first time, she’s not freezing, “Wait, are you okay? I though—“
You send her a shaky thumbs up, “I’m good, baby, just… fuck—“
“Oh, okay…” A moment of pause, “Can we scissor now?” 
“Can I fucking breathe!”
“You can breathe after! C’mon, U-Haul lesbian!” She pats your ass excitedly. 
“After Hot Topic. I need shirts.” 
“Nuh uh,” A kiss against your knee… up to your thigh, on your waist. “Wan’nit now.” 
“Unhand me, hooligan — ow!” You squeak when teeth sink into your side. Ellie sighs in dissatisfaction, but she lets you go. 
With one last wet kiss on your cheek, of course. 
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Hot Topic has lost their entire mind. $15 for a ring set? You almost convinced Ellie to steal them but she said getting caught wasn’t worth it. 
She did buy two new Spidey-man shirts, though… For a whopping $45. Geek. Bring. Back. Stealing. 
After ranting about price spikes to the cashier, you and Ellie barely make it three skips down the strip before your eyes catch a glowing, maroon sign. You yank Ellie back before she can continue down, a villainous smirk glued to your face. 
“Oh, Ellliiieee,” you sing.
She spins, “Hm?” Your lower lips traps between your teeth, an arm holding her tight against you. She stiffens at your hushed proposal, fingers clenching around your hand. 
“You ever been to 9M Sex?” 
You hear her swallow before a shuddering exhale. 
“That’s not very subtle, is it?” She mumbles and you cackle. 
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“So… what do you think?” You say, voice laced with seduction. 
Ellie refuses to make eye contact. She’ll die and rot if she does; her corpse will be infested with grime and maggots in the next twenty-seconds. She won’t look at you… or the twenty-inch, plastic-wrapped dildo held between your legs. 
She burns where she stands; how is the carpet not sizzling into flames from beneath her? 
“… I dunno.” Ellie mutters; She does know. Knows that you’ve been testing her since you stepped foot into this demonic space. You’re a succubus with violent intentions with every grip on her waist, every whimsy confession you throw in her direction after eyeing the lecherous items on display. 
I wanna use that on you… You whisper when you pass every vibrator imaginable, You’d look so cute in this, baby… as you point at a fucking maid costume, I wish I could touch you right here… 
It’s embarrassing how badly she wants you to. It wouldn’t take much convincing to lure her behind one of these lingerie racks and pull her underwear to the side with your tongue down her throat… again, she swears it. One more salacious twinkle from those brown eyes, and she’s all yours, whenever, wherever. Anyway you want her until you’re satiated. The rush you give her is intoxicating. 
“Oh, c’mon! It’s fuckin’ funny! How the fuck would this fit in somebody!”
“I’m sure they’d make it work,” Ellie cringes at how high her voice sounds. What the fuck is she, twelve? Closeted all over again? 
You throw the… cock over your shoulder like deadweight, and Ellie blushes. She’s oddly endeared at your shamelessness; It’s very reminiscent of when you two first met… Why does that feel like a lifetime ago?
Light is beaming off you, and Ellie can’t get enough. This is the happiest she’s seen you since you’ve reconnected; you’re goofy and loud and full of color, completely unapologetic… Is it wrong to say that she’s envious? She’s never met a person so… secure. The store is nearly empty, but she can’t help but think that you’d act the exact same if it were stacked to the ceiling with people, parading around with your fluffy handcuffs and cat ears to match with a smile that glows for miles. 
Ellie would give anything to have that… The ability to dismiss conformity. Leaving her home is still a journey for her. She’s forced out of her own thoughts by your gasp, “Ellie… oh my fucking god…” 
“What’s the matter?” 
“… Turn around right now.” She follows your line of vision and nearly passes out... There’s absolutely no fucking way. An eggplant… but silicone… With an adjustable strap? No fucking subtly. Ellie can hear the rusty, unoiled, screws in your brain churning, conjuring up something absolutely disgusting… Her spine tingles. 
“Babe…” 
“Y’know we’re buyin’ that, right?” Your lips are at the shell of her ear, voice alluring. “I refuse to leave without it.” 
Ellie gawks at that phallic vegetable; Why is it so fucking big? “I’m not having that shit on my card history.” 
“C’mon, suga mama. Get us somethin’ special…” Her spine quakes at your purr, “Don’t you wanna fuck me… Ms. Bottom?” She can hear the smile, and her teeth grit so tight, bound to snap. 
Ellie whips around with a snippy voice, “I’m not a fuckin’ — “ Her eyes travel to ensure your seclusion, “I’m not a bottom. I told you that—“
Your hands cover your ears, “Blah, blah, blah! Lalalala—“
“You’re pissing me off—“
“Get that eggplant and show me how much.” You’re sinful with the low airiness of your tone. “I’ll do whatever you want.” 
“Liar.” Her entire body gusts into flames. You pout and shake your head, “I mean it! Take care of me with the best root vegetable, mama.” 
“You’re insane…” 
Your brow arches, “Maybe so. I’ll make sure to use a coupon. Ain’t nothin’ like 40% off a nut.” You waltz past her without a care in the world, throwing all your supplies on the counter like they’re groceries. Even threw the cashier the sweetest wonderful weather we’re having, ain’t it!
Ellie swiped her card with her eyes glued to the floor, shoving the receipt that read have a sex-filled day! to the bottom of the bag. 
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The air in Ellie’s home feels heavy. 
Your eyes are locked onto her. Her back is to you where she squats on the floor, refilling Pickle’s food bowl with salmon pâte while you rest on her sofa. She can feel the intensity of your gaze through her jacket; it scorches her bones and leaves cracks in the marrow wherever they travel, goosebumps rising on her skin. 
Neither of you have said much since returning home — particularly due to Ellie being intimidated by your sudden calmness. The energy you’re radiating has flipped completely, and it’s only been an hour; The second you picked up your sex shop bag from the service counter and climbed into the passenger seat, you went docile, zoned in on every movement she made with floaty pupils. She’s still shocked you didn’t start undressing in the car. 
Ellie gives Pickle one last kiss before standing, cringing at the pops from her knees. You’re sitting on the crack of the cushions with your legs crossed, hands politely folded and resting on the point of your knee. Your eyes remind her of clouds, plush and delicate. 
“What.” She rasps. You merely shake your head, “I can’t look?” You ask, eyes glossing. Hers match, crystallizing like diamonds in the dirt, “Do what you want. I’m gonna shower.” Ellie’s legs move with the pounding in her chest, halting when you say
“I’m coming with you.” 
“That’s fine,” She rushes. It’s not fine. Her body’s going to give out. It almost does when you frolic past her, the carve in your now bare back on full display, discarded Hot Topic shirt in hand when you push the bathroom door open. 
She follows like a dog. A wolf. She’s so fucking hungry. 
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Steaming water beats down on both of you like rainfall as your mouths meld together, swallowing every sigh, every desperate whimper. But still, your arms stay pinned behind your back. Ellie’s tried everything: sucked at your throat, gripped your ass in her palms, licked up your neck, but you won’t fucking touch her. She’s dripping for you, aching for your hands to caress her; she thought pressing herself tight against your body would finally get you to crack, but you’re stone. Tough as brick. Completely unreceptive. 
She knows what you’re doing… You know what you’re doing, and your attitude is driving her up a wall. Your ego’s fucking huge, that’s for sure.
All this over Ellie enjoying bottoming; She’s not a fucking bottom, she likes to bottom, to be taken care of; there’s a difference. It’s not her fault you’ve perfected your craft; Your touch is addictive; every nerve underneath her skin vibrates whenever you glance in her direction, let alone touch her. 
When your lips reconnect, it’s harsh. Ellie’s bothered to say the least, and you try not to smile. Your giddy laughter is swallowed by her when she traps you against the cold, wet wall, your back barely arching away from it before she holds you down, attacks your neck with precision. Your thighs squeeze together with each suction on your skin, hips pushing down onto the thigh that’s pressed tight between yours. 
“I fuckin’ hate you—“ She spits in your ear. Your grin is pageant-ready. 
“Doesn’t look like it, bottom—“
A heavy, veiny hand cracks on your thigh, and you squeak, “Just admit it! It’s not a bad thing—” 
“I know it’s not. I’m not that, though.” 
“Okay, baby.” 
“Shut up. Turn around.” You teasingly kiss her chin before twirling like you’re on ice, cheek smashed against the wall and ass sticking out for her, wrists bound by an invisible string at the end of your spine.  
“I got some waterproof stuff—“
Be quiet, She snarls like you did on night one, and you’re silent. Ellie sucks the skin right under your ear and your leg kicks out slightly. Her curious fingers slip between your legs and are instantly coated in silk. Your weightless head falls onto her shoulder, sighing like an angel at the gentle flicks on your clit. Yeah? She whispers when you groan her name out, chest and ears beet red. 
Yeah, baby, fuck, you treat me so good, You mumble back and she inhales deeply, walls jerking, Such a s-sweetie pie, The noise she makes in your ear is very reminiscent of a wounded animal, nasal and high. Her working wrist gets sloppy seconds after, and your jaw slacks. She’s rushing, eager for you to cum, to make her dirty all over again. 
Ellie loves how deep your voice gets when you fuck; dry and thick and melts her like butter, makes her dizzy. She would beg you to talk back if she wasn’t on this fucking power trip; she wants you to shake under her. Humble you a bit. Y-Yeah? She croaks. 
Ellie’s blanking; She’d planned to say so much when you pulled her into the muggy space by the chain around her neck, but she can’t fucking think. You smell so fucking good and your skin is soft as cotton. 
F-Fuck yes, oh f — uck —
A nasty grin grows on Ellie’s face when your legs start to wobble, hips arching off hers to get her fingers closer to your pussy. 
Uh huh, She hums, squeezing your wrist in her stagnant hand and forcing it around until it rests over your pussy, hold it open for me. Your hips buck back harsher than she anticipates; Ellie barely catches herself, forced to hold you up, trapped completely between her and the wall, fingers attacking your well-exposed clit. Her tongue swirls on your neck as you ride her hand; She wishes she could see your face properly, take in the way your lashes flutter right before your peak crashes into you, how the brown in your eyes cascade into darkness, full of lust. 
It’s her favorite part; how your moans pitch as your walls squeeze in one tight pull. They spasm in harsh twitches as your clit jounces; Ellie feasts on every single quivery alert of your orgasm, boasts in silence after each exclamation of Ellie, Ellie, oh, fuck!
She’s officially made you cum twice. Four more out of you, and you're fair game. Her stomach twists as she holds you down; You’re so loud and she loves it, that satisfied twinge in your voice at its peak. Ellie’s arm is tight around your waist; There’s so much pressure where she whisks your clit, lips closing around her two fingers. 
A tight hand closes around her wrist when you beg her to stop, Okay, babe, fuck fuuu— ah! —
But she doesn’t let up; rubs you faster, spits nastily in your ear, Say you’re sorry, she gravels onto your cheek, Make it good, too. 
Ca — El — uhhh! —
Yeah? Want some more? Tell Ellie how sorry you are. 
Fuckfuckfuck — I-I’m — Oh god, I’m sorryI’msorrybaby—
Ellie feels merciful and drops her hand, and you go lax against her. She’s forced to smash her body against yours so you don’t drop to the floor. She lets you ride out your aftershocks, the last bits of cloud nine, lips pressing into your shoulder. 
Your panting eventually slows, “Ellie…” 
“Hm.” 
“I hope you know…” you scratch, “… that I’m boutta fuck the living shit outta you.” 
She kisses your shoulder before scoffing with an arched brow. 
“Okay.”
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Ellie’s choices in room décor never fail to amaze you. She’s so endearing. 
Her adult room seems much more lived in; some clothes scattered on the floor and slung over her black love seat, laundry baskets, open drawers with neatly folded clothes… so many mirrors. There’s one by her nightstand, two small, circular ones stood on her dresser, two full-body ones by her window. You can see yourself in every direction you turn. Her walls are made with black brick and littered with green and yellow fairy lights, draped decorative leaves surrounding her Spider-Man(Toby McGuire and Miles Morales) tapestries. Multiple black, furry rugs cover the floor. And the posters… Bless her heart. You’ve never seen so many constellations and planets on one wall, let alone four. Her bed is so messy, though. Her poor stuffies are face-down. It’s a crime how fucking adorable she is; Your heart is jumping for joy. 
“You don’t make your bed?” You ask slyly. 
She pauses her towel-wrapping, “… For what.” 
“Um, for tidiness. Aesthetic, if you will.”  
She blinks at you, “That’s dumb as fuck. You’re gonna lay in it anyway. I want a kiss.” She walks towards you and steals one… and another, and another until you’re both smiling. Your arms interlace around the back of her neck. 
“Make your bed or I’m snitchin.” Your whisper is followed by a peck. 
“Snitchin’ to who?” 
“P-Papa Miller.” 
“Don’t talk about him when I’m horny.” 
She unravels your towel and lets it drop to the floor, “S… Sorry.” 
“You’re not forgiven. Lay down.” 
You sit on her bed like a cat scoping the scenery, “Or what? Gonna hit me? In my face?” You purr. 
She rests her hands on your knees, bending her spine to kiss you, “Maybe.” 
“No balls.”
She smiles and smooches your nose, “You’re right. I would never.” 
“What if I want you to.” 
She scoffs and stands upright, “I’m not… fucking hitting you—“
“What if I ask politely…” You deepen your voice mockingly, and she shudders, “Oh, Ellie Williams, my dearest flower, may you do me the honor of bruisin’ my cheek with an affectionate handprint?” 
“Dude—“
“You don’t have to… but if you wanna, I’m not opposed.” You fall back onto your arched elbows, knees pulled high in the air. Ellie’s stare is disgustingly enticing as her eyes travel from yours, all the way down to your calves, but she makes no moves. You love how patient she is. 
“Your hands are so fuckin’ nice.” 
She snorts and looks down at them, squeezing a tight fist and inspecting the blue-green veins. “They are? They don’t feel dry?” 
“I love how cracked they are. Scratch me up, papí.” 
Ellie’s nose turns up as her ears glow, feigning disgust, “Shut up.” 
You smirk and your thighs separate, inch by inch, gooey lines of slick snapping when your pussy’s on display, “Make me.” She swallows. Ellie decides her hair has dried enough, shaking the towel from her head and crawling on top of you in seconds. Her mouth mushes against yours; Her aggression is so delicate. Her lips stroke yours until they dust your cheeks, down to your temples. You eye the neon glow-in-the-dark stickers on her ceiling, “Gonna fuck me under the moon, space ranger?” She licks over your mumbles, nibbling at your lips. “M-Maybe…” 
“Havin’ second thoughts, bottom?” You poke and her jaw tenses.
“Put your fuckin’ leg up.” 
You oblige, flattening the other so she can straddle your lax thigh, “Goin’ back to our roots, I see. Traditional lesbianism.” You sigh when her dripping pussy hovers over yours. Ellie has the prettiest cunt; You’ve told her probably a thousand times, now, but fuck, it’s perfect: soft strands of hair submerged in slick, plush lips surrounding her red clit. Your pussy flutters like she’s crushing whenever Ellie finds her balance on top. She fits her shoulder in the arch of your calf, and you’re patient, dragging a light fingertip around her areola. Her tongue wets her lips before she closes the space between your pussies. The muscles in your thighs clench at your intertwined warmth. 
Ellie holds your gaze, forest shiny with arousal with a hand gripping your raised thigh. 
“Send me to the stars, space ranger.” 
She chokes a laugh before kissing your ankle, “You’re cute.” 
“No, you,” you cheese. Her smile matches yours before she experiments, finds comfortable seating on your lap before her hips grind forward, just barely. Her maneuvers are shy, a bit unsteady, but she’s entrancing; Ellie’s face is perfect… Have you ever told her how beautiful she is? 
A trembling whisper from her, Why’re you looking at me like that? shows that you haven’t, not nearly enough, at least. Astonishment settles in your vision; You’re stunned to silence by her. Breaths leave ragged through your nose, eyes trailing over every inch of her face; the curvature of her nose, every pore, every scratch and scar. She’s an image, a neglected picture that deserves all notoriety. To be hung in ancient museums; A modern Mona Lisa. 
Ellie… 
Mhm? 
I really like you… 
She’s motivated, hips pushing forward and back, pressing down, as tight as she can get the gap. H-How much? 
Too much, and it’s a fact. A terrifying one that you can’t ignore. She moans in response and holds the hand that rests on her hip as she rides you, the cup of her breasts jumping, the remainder of shower water mixing with fresh bubbles of sweat in between the valley, glistening under the last bits of sunset. Tell me, tell me, she begs and moves faster, and your heart rate skyrockets, from nerves, from… 
You're perfect, y-you’re so— Her mattress springs wheeze under the sudden pace of her thrusts. Your whimpers seem to drive her, I missed you so much. You’ll never fail to remind her; shame on you if she ever forgets. Wetness squelches between your bodies, the friction sparking the wires in your spleen, back arching with every catch of her clit on yours. 
Stay with m-me, Her voice breaks, and your hand is numb from how hard she grips it, Don’t… don’t go… I like when you’re close to me… Your eyes attempt to close, but you can’t allow it. You drink in every inch of her, and you burn warmer when she does the same, always returning to your eyes before beginning again. 
You’re gonna make me cum, She gasps brokenly, disappointed. You’re begging now, for every drop she has. You want all of it; the claws that sink into her are desperate when her head falls back, her nipples tighten, her pleasure racking off the walls. Your hips buck into hers and she squeals, tries her hardest to keep her balance, but she’s cracking. You feel her throbbing, can almost make out her heart pounding over yours; she’s warning you, she’s right there, and the incoming destruction is evident in her voice. 
Her cry is long and drawn as her clit beats, blush burning in her cheeks as she scrapes at your skin, pulls at your fingers to center as she transports to euphoria. Tears jerk in your eyes when you hear her confession, heart shattering in your chest as darkness takes over you; it’s disgraceful how you’re silent as she lays everything out for you to take. You cry in silence as she rides out everything she deserves. 
I love you… Don't leave me… I love you, baby, I-I love you… 
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Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale… 
You count how many seconds it takes for Ellie to breathe. She’s sound asleep with her back to your chest, her arms outstretched in front of her. Your arm rests over her hip as you welcome every waft of her citrus shampoo. It’s doing wonders pausing your incoming breakdown. You’re so, so sick. 
I love you… Don’t leave me… 
It replays in your mind against your will. Over and over, it bounces around your skull until your temples pound. You’re not sure what’s more nauseating: the word she used or that she meant it. You could see it in her eyes, promises of adherence, careless and unbound yearning and devotion. You’re to blame, though. You practically pulled it out of her after your own declaration; I really like you… What an idiot. 
You admire her in every possible way. Her bravery, in particular. 
You don’t deserve to be in her presence, but still, you rob her of time. She showers without you present, and you desperately wait for return so you can hold her again. She’s scared that you’ll leave her when it should be the other way around; It’s been your only fear: her realizing that she deserves everything you aren’t. Someone happy, pure-hearted, successful, just like she is. 
Whatever attracts her to you must be an unimaginable pity. How could she love someone as manipulative and slimy as you? It’s unfathomable. 
And yet, you still lay next to her, under her stars. 
You separate from her as slyly as you can to sit on the edge of her bed, palms digging into your eyes before purring erupts from behind you. You feel nuzzles against your back and you snicker; Pickle’s a vessel of comfort. She never fails to appear when you're in dire need. She’s beckoned over with soft clicks of your tongue, taking refuge on your lap and licking at your thigh. Your lips mash against her little head, peppering kiss after kiss until leaps onto the floor, exiting the room and moving down the hall. You use kit-kat as an escape even if your heart aches to be near Ellie. 
The journey to her living room is slow due to you examining the framed pictures on the wall. Some are photos of just her, while others are her and other nameless people you don’t recognize, all smiling wide. She’s being hugged and kissed on her cheek by presumed friends — maybe family — all while holding the camera in her shaky hands, thanks to the blurred image. There’s photos of her on vacation, on beaches, photos of fireworks and birthday cakes, and so many photos of her father. 
There’s so much light in this hallway, even in void night, and she’s in the center of it. You can’t stop crying. 
Your body drags to the couch to retrieve your discarded backpack, digging for your phone. You haven’t touched it since you’ve been here, and you’re shocked to see that it’s still charged. The influx of missed calls frightens you; they’re all from work. You rush to listen to your last voicemail. 
“Hey, sweetheart! It’s Professor Meyers! Professor Rosnon’s been trying to get in contact with you, so I thought I’d reach out, as well. We’ve got an amazing offer for you if you’re interested! It’s too much to describe on the phone, so I hope we can meet up in person very soon and discuss the details. Get back to me as soon as you can. Enjoy the rest of your vacation, buh-bye!” 
That was yesterday morning. Fuck your life. 
Your sketchbook stares back with impertinence as your tears dry; It’s been months and still nothing from your imagination has transferred onto paper. Why do you continue to disappoint yourself, staring at a blank page with your pen in hand? 
“H-Hey.” 
You don’t react to Ellie’s call, just continue to tap your pen on the edge of your book. You can’t stop thinking about her hands. She appears from behind the couch wrapped in her Princess Bubblegum blanket, scratching at her nose. 
“I was cold…” She mutters with a soft laugh, “How do you stay so warm?” You merely shrug, tongue tied in indestructible knots. 
“Can I sit?” Your head jerks and she’s next to you in seconds, kissing your cheek, then your shoulder.
“What’s the matter, baby?” She whispers against your skin, and you sigh. 
“Just girly things,” You chuckle darkly before bluntly asking, “Are you mad at me?” 
“No — what?” Her voice is as delicate as rose petals, “Why would I be mad?” 
“I didn’t say it back.” You say. 
“… Say what back.” 
“You told me you loved me and I didn’t say it back. I didn’t… say it. I dunno why I didn’t!” 
She stares incredulously, “It’s… That’s fine—“
Your book goes flying into the cushion before you stand, “Ellie, it’s not fuckin’ fine! None of this is fine! I don’t know if it’ll ever be fine! I’m not… I’m not fine.” You exasperate, “Am I… I can’t stop… overthinking everything! I wanna make…” You sob and pace. 
“I want you happy. You deserve… aaalll the good shit that life has to offer!” Your arms flail, “You’re so… I can’t fucking think when you look at me! All my brain cells fucking explode and I never wanna look away! I just wanna sit and stare at your fucking face all day long! Fuck working, fuck a mortgage, fuck — fuck everything! Life is fuckin’ dumb and pointless if your not in the center of it! I’m so—“ 
“I love you.” She whispers, water in her eyes. 
“I can’t… accept that—“
“Me loving you?” 
“Yes! Well… no—“
“So you want me to love you?” 
“Ellie, please, I can’t fuckin’… breathe—“
“Yes, you can. And I’m so in love with you,” She says with certainty, and somehow, your brain convinces you that it’s conniving. “I was in love when I left… and I’m still in love now. You make me so… excited about life.” She continues mutedly, “If you don’t… wanna stay, I understand. But I had to tell you anyway.” 
“I…” You wail with knuckles in your eyes, “I love you so much…” Ellie’s sighs in relief at your cry. She chuckles wetly before you feel her arms around you, “You’re such a fuckin’ lesbian, it’s actually hilarious.” 
“Fuck off!” You holler into her shoulder, “This is your fault! Why are you so perfect! Fucking… fucking bitch—“
“Say you love me again,” she pleads into your sweatshirt, and you repeat it like a prayer. I love you, I love you, I love you so much! Ellie rocks back and forth where you stand, a delicate, scratchy hand rubbing your back under the cloth. 
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You're back in Ellie’s room. Your pen is moving. On paper. 
When Ellie ushered you to bring your sketchbook to bed, you couldn’t stop laughing; continuously questioned your ability, trying to convince her how pointless that would be, but that gentle encouragement in her gaze got you here: on another blank fucking page with an exhausted pen. You hate lesbians. 
The lines on the sheet are subtle, gently grazed across white with little focus; The image isn’t super descriptive, but it’s shapely. It looks like… something; That’s all you need right now. Ellie’s watching curiously, eyes flickering between your busy hand and the slowly filling sheet. 
“Pretty.” She says. 
You snort, “It’s literally a blob.” 
“To you. Art is subjective.” Your eyes roll before they land on Pickle resting on Ellie’s throw pillow. “What, you hate it, too?” 
“Don’t do that! She loves it!” 
“Look at her eyes! Nothin’ but homophobia!” Ellie nudges your knee with hers in disapproval, and Pickle blinks. 
“Be quiet. Keep doing that.” She nods down at your paper, and you smirk. “Yeah, baby? Like when I do that?” You hold her faltering stare and scribble blindly, “It’s gettin’ you there?” 
Her cheeks grow plump and shine, almost reaching her eyes, “Stop… or no more kisses.” 
Your jaw slacks, “You wouldn’t dare!” 
“I would! C’mon, finish for me — “ Your body crashes with laughter at the innuendo, and Ellie cringes. 
“Can you focus for two seconds!” She scolds between your cackles. 
“I’m so — sorry, it’s just too good, holy fuck—“
“It wasn’t that funny.” She says blankly. 
“To you! Comedy’s subjecti—“ 
Ellie holds you down by your hips before jumping into your lap, glare sizzling past your teary eyes. 
“Oooh, la la, quite the dejavu moment.” You snicker up at her, book and pen forgotten. 
“Am I a joke to you?” 
Your brow curves scoffingly, “Might be. And what about it?” 
“I think you needa break.” 
“Word?” You toss your pen and book with the quickness, “What we doin’, space ranger?” 
“You’re not doing anything. I’m gonna ride your cock.” 
Your eyes turn to globes as she undresses herself above you, throwing her tee and maneuvering so she can kick her underwear over the bed, only clad in her fuzzy Saturn socks. 
“Where’s the bag.” 
“… O-Over there,” You point where you threw it mindlessly after your couch escapades, and Ellie’s up to retrieve it. You eye the dip of her back and gawk at her fucking ass when she bends over to rummage through the bag. “Are… are you serious right now?” 
“Yup. Take your clothes off.” She calls back plainly. 
“… Alright.” You unclothe into your boyshorts in stunned silence. Since when is she this bold? She returns with full hands: cotton candy flavored lube, a small bullet, and the longest fucking eggplant you’ve ever seen in your lifetime. She throws them onto the mattress carelessly with a shrug, “I think you need some inspo. Am I the best girlfriend?” 
Your heart jerks in your chest, veins reaching out for her “… ‘Course, baby… shit.” 
Ellie holds up the strap by the leg adjustment, “I’m sure you know how to put this on.” She throws it into your lap before popping open the baby blue lubricant. Your face burns when you swing your legs over the bed to pull the harness up your legs. You can hear her giggling as the aubergine jumps up and down above your pussy. She offers to help and you instruct her through tightening the bands until they fit snug around your hips and thighs. 
Your brain’s in overdrive; the curved girth of the silicone builds arousal in your underwear, envisioning Ellie’s plush walls stretching and pulsing around the purple length, her creamy silk building around the perimeter of the green tip at the base. Your clit leaps beneath the fabric. 
“Are you… You want some head? Like… before this?” Your fingers point at the eggplant. Ellie shakes her head with the bullet in hand. 
“Just lay down.” 
“Ellie—“
Her hands clasp your steaming cheeks, her lips brushing against yours when she murmurs, shhh… take good care of me? Your heart flutters where it sits in her hands, Don’t I always? You choke, and she hums with a smirk before her lips curl against yours. Poking fun at her for being a bottom is long gone; This is the most sure you’ve ever seen her in this setting. You’re often the hand that guides, lures her in, eases the unwanted tension and leads you both to gratification, but now she’s doing that for you; her tongue slides over your mouth one last time before balancing herself on the edge of the bed and dropping to her knees, eyes lined up with the fat tip of the toy. 
Oh … Oh. 
You’re one of the most… talented people I know. She flatters, so lustful and genuine. I know that side of you is still in there. It’s all gonna come back to you… M’ just gonna help. 
Is this your proposal of being my muse? You quirk. She shrugs, her hand closing tight around the length, Could be. Depends on how good you think I do. 
Always do so good, You acclaim, I love you… fuck—
Ellie kisses the tip before purring, I love you more… Anyone ever do this to you? 
… Is this a trick question? Uhh… Like… like, one time. Despite your doubts, you choose honesty. The memory is lackluster and quick. It was decent enough. Merely for experimenting purposes. 
The twinkles in her eyes catch flame, What’d you like about it. She asks, but it’s not a question; it’s sharp, and you almost start crying. 
I-I dunno—
Before you can lie, a glob of spit lands all over the head. The glare she sends you is both icy and hot as she massages in the wetness, gliding it all over. Your knees buckle under your weight, and she leers up at you. You like it like that? Nice’n sloppy? 
You’ve had… so much sex in your life, and never once, in the history of the universe, have you ever been this fucking wet. If you were to go on a casual midnight stroll right now, sloshy noises would echo from between your legs for miles. The glint in her eye is knowing, and spit gathers all over her tongue as it swirls around the tip. The sounds her lips make are sinister; your chest concaves in a wheeze. 
When the tip slides a hair deeper on her tongue, you choke a pained noise. She releases the tip when your body stutters again. She says nothing, simply shoves you down onto the bed by your thighs, planting herself in between them once more. There’s so much fucking spit; it slides down in droplets all over the sides of the silicone as she slobbers on the crown, preps it for when it slides down her throat. Her mussed blankets are clenched between your fingers; your breathing is ragged. 
Such a good fuckin’ girl, Your tongue swells, and Ellie keens, eyes sparkling underneath stray auburn when they flutter at your praise. Your cramped fingers brush the strands away before knotting in her hair. The bun at the back of her head slowly loosens, trapping your digits in her locks. A soft whimper leaves her when you pull. 
For some reason, your eyes travel, only for a second, but you’re met with an elongated image of Ellie’s dotted spine, the goosebumps on her skin, the way her head bobs half an inch at a time, all in her full body mirror. You choke on a whine, and the muscles in Ellie’s back twitch. 
Oh my fuckin’ god, Your fingers tighten in her tresses and she whines, the arch in her back deepening. Your walls pulsate when you catch the glistens of slick spilling from her entrance at your sounds, both holes clamping down, pleading for you. Gonna let me fuck that pretty throat? 
Her moans are sloppy and wet. Her head bows, and you know she’s taking you deeper, nails digging into your thighs. It’s a curse that you can’t feel the tightness of her sunken cheeks. She pops off you, desperation leaking from her when whines, Fuck my mouth, baby, please, lips gliding all over the underside. You move on autopilot, sliding up further onto the mattress, feet planted on the floor and hips hanging off the edge of the bed. Ellie’s nasty; practically making out with your tip while you stabilize your position. It’s fucking messy, how her saliva drips down the base until it meets the harness, small beads building on your bare thigh. 
Stick your tongue out, you order before squeezing her face in your free palm. Her pink muscle lulls until it lays on the connective skin between your thumb and index, coated in drool. It’s not enough for you, though; Saliva builds in your mouth before it shoots onto hers, and she moans when it splatters all over her tongue, speckles landing on her cheek. A heavy hand comes down to pat her cheek, and she cries a quiet I love you. You smile and it’s dark, Uh huh, love you, too. Keep it out, your thumb drags on her bottom lip until her tongue rests flat over her bottom teeth. 
The hand that twines in her hair is harsh, Hands behind your back, you say and she does without questioning. You kiss her cheek before guiding her head steady towards the tip until it sits on her tongue. Her jaw widens when your hips rise off the mattress; you hold her still an inch forward, her mouth closing around the wrist. Her noises are quiet and docile, and she swallows; You shudder when you watch her throat close before pulling out. 
Okay? Want more? 
Her eyes plead like a puppy’s, tongue cycling on the prong. Breathe through your nose, Your hand loosens a bit in her hair, Just pull off when you wanna stop, okay, baby? 
One whine of approval and you’re pushing in again; Her hips twitch in the mirror as her mouth fills and you snicker; her thighs are coated in slick, a thin line dripping onto her furry rug. That’s my girl, fuck, you’re so cute, You grit and her fingers clench. The pace of your hips kick up slightly, testing to see how much she can take. You monitor her every move: the way her eyes float empty in her skull when her cheeks expand, how her breathing quickens when your thumb caresses her scalp, how tight her throat gets when you push too deep. 
Look at how wet that pussy is, Ellie moans over your thrusts. Slobber coats her lips and chin; dribbles all the way down to her chest. Your bottom lip traps between your teeth. 
You plunge too deep apparently; she gags and pulls off and explodes into a fit of coughs, forehead falling onto your thigh as she heaves. You kiss her head and apologize frantically… 
And then, she starts giggling. 
“Fuck — Fuck, I’m sorry —“
She snorts and coughs some more, and you’re stuck. You hold both of her sizzling cheeks in your hands and kiss all over her face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry —“
“You’re really hot.” Her voice is croaky and broken and more slick gushes from you. How shameful. 
“Me?! Are you fucking — are you okay?” 
“Mhm.” She hums before pecking your lips, “Fuck me now? I’m… I’m so wet,” She whispers like she told you something secretive. You can bet every minuscule dollar you own that you’re wetter, but anxiety settles in your stomach. Your girl’s asking you to fuck the daylights out of her after nearly killing her with the fucking dick-shaped vegetable on your waist, and you’re panicking. 
“Ellie, I’m scared as fuck, not even gon’ lie—“
“Nothing to be scared of. I trust you.” Another kiss before she mutters, “Take care of me?” 
“P-Promise.”
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Your mind rushes. 
The past twenty minutes have felt like a blur; you hardly recall pinning Ellie down on the mattress to keep her still while your tongue swirled inside her, how tight her walls clamped down on two fingers, how she scratched and squirted and squealed for you to fuck her. 
And now she’s beneath you, hips twirling up, desperate for friction as her nails tear at your hips, but you ignore her. You’re gawking at the lubricated strap that rests on her throbbing cunt, how the inches almost touch her belly button. You’re trapped in a daze as your hips move mindlessly, brows furrowed. 
W-What’s the matter, baby? She keens at you. 
Nothin’ You’re gruff, Thinking. 
And you are thinking… about how Ellie’s going to take this shit. The length is concerning on it’s own, but it’s so fucking wide and curves up. You recall the amount of times she’s winced when you fingered her. It should worry you; how far she’s going to stretch to take it all, how much her softness is going to resist against something so big. Your head is twisted where it wanders; conjures up disgusting visuals of her begging you to split her open, to make her take it, to give it to her as mean as you can. You can’t help it, though; She’s an angel when she cries. 
Agitation creases in her brows, “Gimme it—“
“I think it’s gonna hurt,” You slur. Her taste swirls on your tongue when you speak, and it makes you wetter. 
“I don’t care. Give it to me,” she snaps. “Want you… inside—“
Your brow flits, “Want me inside? I’ve been inside. A lot, actually.”
“Don’t fuck with me right now.” 
“Ellie, c’mon! Look at this shit! There’s no way—“ 
“I’m lying here telling you to do it! Fucking —“ She sighs in annoyance, “Let me get on top. You weren’t supposed to do shit anyway.” 
“Ellie!—“
“Stop talking and lay the fuck down!” 
You plop down onto your back with a slew of curses, and Ellie takes — snatches the reins from you; she leaps into your lap, lube in hand, scolding sizzling on her tongue. 
“I don’t wanna hear shit. Just… let me do it.” 
A cheesy smile grows, “… You’re not you when you’re horny—“
“What the fuck did I just say!” She squirts more fluorescent blue into her palm and blindly massages it into your strap. It’s horribly messy by the time she’s done, taking it in her hand and lining herself up without warning. 
“… Wha—“
Her non-lubed palm clamps on your mouth, silencing you with a hefty eye roll. Ellie arches a brow when you hold two thumbs up in silent encouragement. You love your girlfriend! 
Ellie steadies herself with a mumbled, please, God, don’t let me die, right above the tip before her hips drop not even an inch. You’re a hawk the way you eye her tiny hole expanding around the girthy crown. Her breaths are heavy and ragged, but she takes her time; hips rising when she’s taken too much, sinking when she’s comfortable, and you’re hypnotized by it all. 
Her hand drops from your mouth and plants on your chest when you’ve finally quieted — besides the mumbles of ohmyfuckinggod when her lips manage to swallow up the tip. Her bottom lip bruises from her teeth, tears welling in her eyes and her thighs twitching. She looks like she’s hurting and your heart shatters. Carnality be damned. 
“E-Ellie… baby, we don’t have to—“
You’re so… fucking big, she squirms, and you stiffen. 
Your nails latch — sink into her hips and your jaw slacks; gaping at how she struggles to take you, how she winces and gasps at the stretch until she’s halfway. You’re doing that to her, getting her nice and full; it takes all your strength to keep your hips flat on the bed despite every cell luring you to stuff her to the brim. 
… It hurt? 
I don’t — know — fuck, Ellie’s eyes flit in every direction: locks onto the ceiling, the bed frame above you, your breasts and your dick. Ah, shit — 
Good? You confirm and she hums, whimpering to herself until her ass rests on your thighs. Any traces of dark purple are no longer visible, only hints of bright green glowing from the base of the harness. 
You whistle lowly, Damn… you’re real as fuck. 
Gimme a sec, She sighs, and you raise your palms, Whenever you’re ready. 
The longer she sits, the more relaxed her face becomes; flush darkening on her cheeks and above her breasts, more slick ringing around the circumference. 
… This is very interesting, Ellie says aloud, and shocked laughter bursts through your chest. She’s fucking hilarious, actually. Scale of one to ten? Your brows give a mischievous wiggle, and she pauses, hips moving around, testing the waters. Her eyelids bat gently. 
… S-Seven ‘n a half? She moans, and you smirk, You sure? It looks like an eight to me. 
She glares playfully, Gonna have to work for that rating. 
You squint up at her before sitting upright, chest to chest, and her arms wrap around your neck for balance. I’m waitin’ on the green light, you whisper against her lips. She laughs weakly, One star rating on Yelp. Too much back talk. 
You kiss her around a smile before pecking all over her cheeks. She grabs the back of your neck to hold you still, melding her mouth on yours. You swallow her soft noises when your tongues intertwine, hands cupping her ass. Ellie’s jaw slacks when her hips raise and drop, gasping on your tongue. You lick into her mouth and hold her steady, nails deep in her soft skin when her pace quickens. 
You grin, Yeah? Better? 
Ellie nods and a hand slips between you, and you groan aloud when her fingers meet her slippery clit, the tips dripping wet in seconds as sloshing noises echo through her bedroom. Your arm wraps around her waist to yank her down, and she squeaks, back arching, chest shoving against yours. You done showin’ off? You grit against her cheek and she huffs. Ellie’s hands shove at your shoulders until you’re laying flat on the mattress, and you snicker. Her hold is strong on your chest as she bounces, her tits trembling every time she comes down. 
The way she says your name is intoxicating; so drawn out and velvety and makes your cunt tremor. Your eyes trap on how she touches herself; one hand settled on your chest while the other rubs at her clit, pulls at her nipples, makes them shine with her juices. You’re aching to touch her, but you stay put; let her have her fun.
You catch movement out the corner of your eye; Ellie’s trapped in another mirror off to the side, shrouded in pleasure: head thrown back while she cries at the ceiling, slurred flattery of how good you feel inside her igniting the flame in your core. 
Look how good you’re takin’ that shit, you groan and the muscles in her ass squeeze in the mirror; you can feel the ripples in her cunt pulling at your strap, and it nearly sends you. What you’d give to feel her flesh choking around you when she breaks, succumbs to pleasure while you explode inside her. It enrages you to no end. 
Your pupils meet at the bridge of your nose when a clammy hand inches up your chest to the column of your throat to rest. Ellie whines from above, a shaky C-Can I? You're about to make a mess all over her sheets. You hardly register the desperate bobs of your head, and her grip tightens around your neck. Pinches down on the sides, and your soul leaves your body. 
You like that? She snickers dark around a moan and fucks down harder onto your lap, You’re so fucking — holy, fuck —
Your hand clamps around her wrist and she squeezes harder; the hold is threatening, and your clit jumps. Your promises are wet and muffled; exclamations of m’yours melting on your tongue. Your girl is going to break you. 
Her efforts eventually slow, and you know she’s getting tired. You look up, right into her eyes and you nearly break. They’re pleading, imploring you to take care of me, make me cum for you; she eases into a steady grind, and the pressure from her hips add friction to your clit. You curse lowly, and she whimpers back. You’re already so close from how long you held off, but you don’t want to cum yet. She’s getting hers first. 
E-Ellie, get up—
You barely finish your command before she lifts up and off, strings of slick connecting her pussy and your dick together. Your maneuvers are quick; you’re up on your knees in seconds and grab her hips, guiding her until she’s on all fours, facing all of the mirrors at the front of her room. Your mouth waters at the sight of both holes pulsing sporadically, begging for your cock. 
Your hand deepens the arch in her spine until she’s face down on a lone pillow. Your heart swells when Ellie extends a shaky hand to you, fingers curling tight around the hand that rests on her hip. You kiss her wrist and she sighs happily. You grab your slippery dick and line it up at her entrance; her hips push back when you nudge inside, wet gasps leaving her as you split her all over again; but this time, you can see it. You’re moaning with her, a thin line of drool landing on her asscheek. 
It hurt, baby? You grunt, stupid with lust, body on fire, Huh? She can’t even talk, just shoves her face in the pillow and says your name, over and over. You push in deeper, and she groans, sobs, begs for you to fuck me, baby, fuck me fuck me fuck me, please—
That’s all it takes; your hands clutch tight on both hips to yank her back onto your cock. A shocked squeal rattles the four walls that enclose such filth when she’s finally stuffed full: she spurs on your aggression, jumbled yesyesyess hitting the pillowcase, her nails sinking into your wrist. Your strokes are deep; you watch how tight she grips your dick, plush pink milking every inch that leaves when you pull out, desperate to keep you in place, a light rim of cream building around her lips. 
You and Ellie’s teary eyes lock in the mirror on her dresser, her pink lips gaping around each crude praise she throws at you. It’s music to your ears.
You hi — hit it so good, baby! 
Just like that — oh, god, yeah! —
I love you so fuckin’ much!
Her messy hair flies in every direction, bounces with your thrusts, enticing you to grip it. Dark red wraps around your tight fist and you pull, and she goes stupid, eyes crossing in her skull and glossy drool hanging off the edge of her bottom lip.
Your yanks get her up until her sweaty back meets your chest, arch deepening when you lean into her, lips caressing her tinted ear. 
You love me, mama? 
She shudders on you, Fuck, yes — so fuckin’ much! Love this dick! 
Yeah? It’s yours?
F-Fuckin’ mine… A—All mine— 
You reach around to find her clit, and she gushes around you, Show me who it belongs to. You beg and she meets your hips, Get me fuckin’ nasty with it, cum all over your dick, baby, your words hit her like a threat, and she wails curses; sucks you all the way in when the tightness builds; you push in as deep as you can and it sends her over. Ellie’s thrashes and you're forced to hold her up, arm thrown around her chest while she grinds back onto you; you can feel how hard she’s cumming as the base jerks with her pulses, your name a constant on her tongue. You grind into her until she shakes, nails scratching at your hips to stop you. 
Ellie’s limp when you pull out, purple coated in white creaminess, and she whimpers like she’s begging you to come back home. 
Lay down, you choke. Your walls won’t stop clenching. 
She turns her head to kiss your neck before supporting her weight on her hands. 
Nuh uh, You tsk, On your back. Needa see you when I cum. You say, and she whines like a bitch, slick and cum flooding at her entrance. You help her maneuver and yank her closer until she’s staring up at you and her entrance lines up with your strap, eyes delicate and trusting and obsessed. The trees in them brush with ferocity and need for you; a tight hand squeezes her cheeks so her lips pucker, and you bend down to kiss her. It’s gross: desperate and uncoordinated tongues entangle with one another, spit spreading on the outside of each other's mouths, loud smacking noises filling your ears with lecher. It gets you hot, and you melt when Ellie’s hand blindly grabs for your dick to slide it between her sopping lips. Your body flattens on top of hers as she guides you in, her mouth opening around moans as you stretch her all over again. 
There’s still resistance; How’s she this fucking tight? 
Your hips follow her guide until you're nudged deep, barely half an inch of green exposed. Her thighs spread wider around your waist so you fit snug between, no space amidst your bodies. Your elbows rest on either side of her head, holding you up while your tongues swirl. Your knees dig into the mattress and your hips move on autopilot; your tongue dazedly licks over her lips to her jaw, bruising the skin a deep maroon. The sounds that erupt from her cunt are filthy, begging for your cum in earnest. 
Your eyes flutter open to study Ellie’s face; her body bobs when your hips meet, her eyes squeezed shut and her battered lips glistening, sinful verbiage spilling from her, completely brainless as her peak approaches. 
Your head drops into her neck and she holds you close, moaning against her throat with every deep thrust; the stimulation on your clit is nearly too much; You’re so sensitive, but you drill into her, take what’s yours. Her nails are deep in your back and it stings, wetness spilling from you from the pain. You’re hardly fucking her, just grinding your hips as you chase your release, filling her deep. 
She’s mumbling about how hard she’s going to cum. Yeah? You spit in her ear, Gonna fuckin’ cum? And she squeaks out curses in approval. Ellie’s moans pitch high before slick splatters on both your thighs, soaks through the sheets. You lift your heavy head to watch Ellie jerk and sob and confess her utter devotion to you as long as you continue to fuck her like this. You love her so fucking much; She deserves to feel this good; to wake up to pleasure and put back to bed with it.
Ellie’s orgasm breaks her; her babbles slur and crack as they hit your lips: you make me cum so good, fuck me ‘til you cum, I love you so fuckin’ much; she’s all over the place but she begs for your pleasure, begs for you to release . The pace in your thrusts rebuilds; you’re moaning in her mouth, clit throbbing in your soaked underwear. You can practically taste your release where it sits on the edge of your tongue, completely unbound when you slur promises;
Gonna give you all my fucking cum. 
You take in how far her pretty eyes roll at your confession, how cravingly she begs for you stuff her with sticky white; it makes your clit jerk, once, twice, until your walls pull in tight—
Ellie’s orgasm triggers your own; the pleasure is so intense that it’s painful and your vision whites out, all while she coats your waist in love and desire and slick. You’re both so loud and can’t keep still, sultry bodies trembling against one another. You grow lightheaded when Ellie’s hips fuck down and onto you to prolong your orgasm, voice dripping in seduction in your ear as she encourages you to fill her up, to keep her good and dirty. 
It feels like minutes pass when the pleasure finally subsides; you can’t stop shaking and there’s no strength in your limbs, resting completely weightless on top of your girlfriend. Your head rests in Ellie’s palms as she pecks all over your face, thanking you, asking if you’ve found any inspiration. 
You’ve never been so excited to draw an O face in your fucking life. You need new pens!
“… Ellie?” 
“Mhm?” She sounds just as wrecked as you feel, and a smile settles on your face. 
“D-Did I earn that eight?” 
She exhales a laugh before kissing your sweaty forehead, “And that five star Yelp review.” You wheeze out a celebratory yaaay and Ellie’s body rocks with laughter beneath you. 
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The sun is going to rise soon. Ellie’s not tired. 
She loves dawn. It’s her favorite time of day: the giant, boiling orb just barely cresting from behind mountains, birds flocking and framing the rays of light, clouds orange and pink and a misty blue. She’s taken hundreds of pictures of that gorgeous scenery alone; It’s funny how she feels like something’s missing from them now that you’re back in her life. 
She wants you in the center of every picture she takes. In all of her favorite places… In her car, in her room, in water. You’re a fucking star on camera. 
A freshly showered Ellie rests on her bed(with new sheets… her blue ones are forever ruined) as she rolls up, eyes glued to the back of your head. You’re sitting on the floor, right on her fluffy rug, the sound of pen scratching against paper surrounding you, secluded in a space of peace. Proud can’t describe what she feels. 
Ellie seals the blunt as she imagines what you’re creating. You told her she couldn’t see until it’s finished, but she’s becoming impatient. Ellie’s nosy; She thought giving you puppy-eyes would work like every other time, but you simply got up and moved somewhere private with a twinkle in your eye. 
Ellie reaches for her lighter on her nightstand and sparks, “Wanna hit?” You deny calmly, focused, entranced by your imagery, and Ellie sighs. She's happy you’re easing back into drawing, but she wants attention. She’s in love; Sue her. 
Ellie puffs in silence. The more she inhales, the fonder she grows. Why’re you so far away? She smokes half the blunt before stubbing out the end, placing it on the ashtray on her small desk. She tries to be sly and creep behind you slowly to get a peak of your creation, but the shuffling of blankets exposes her. You whip your head and shut your book with quickness, a smirk on your face. Her bottom lip traps between her face to hide a smile when you ask, 
“Can I help you?” 
She inches closer until her lips graze your ear, inhaling her cinnamon body wash on you, “Come to bed?” 
“In a minute, baby, promise.” You whisper back when she kisses underneath your earlobe. She hums in disapproval, “Now.” 
“And if I don’t?” 
Ellie says the first thing that comes to mind, doesn’t even bother to play into your frisky threat. It’s terrorized her mind for the past four years, kept her company when you were gone and she had to settle with her own hand. 
You’re a fucking star on camera. 
“… You ever made a tape?” The proposal is quiet and husky, and your eyes turn to globes, stunned and instantly filled with darkness. 
“… Are you serious?” Ellie nods, her tongue teasing the shell of your ear, lips inching down to your neck, sucking at your shoulder. 
“Oh, you’re crazy.” 
“Come to bed.” Much more stern, and you shudder, tossing your book to the side. 
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“How do cam-couples do this shit, what the fuck.” 
Ellie’s attention gets pulled from her tripod and lands on you, back arched with her iPad in both hands that extend out to the bed frame. The camera’s on you, trying to get the perfect capture of your ass, constantly adjusting your form. 
“It’s truly a skill,” Ellie mumbles back, securing her camera. She ensures that the plate won’t wobble before carrying it by the stand and placing it beside the bed. “You look excited.” 
“Excited like yaaay or excited like horny?” Your ass wiggles teasingly and Ellie snorts. 
“Both.” 
“Y’know, for someone who’s never done this, you look like a professional—“
Ellie scoffs, “I am a professional. Degree and two licenses—“
Your jaw slacks around moans and your hips thrusts back, “Fuuuck, that’s hot. Rub it in my face some more, it’s getting me so wet—“
Ellie stares blankly and you burst into cackles, dropping her device on the freshly made mattress.
“Nerdy Spider-geek wrecks school slut’s pussy non-stop orgasms—“
Ellie sits next to you, adjusting the lense, “What the fuck are you talking about.” 
You snort, “Our vid title. Or — orrr, I gotta better one! Constellation station makes astrology-loser girlfriend see the Milky Way—“
“No one’s gonna click that.” 
“I would!” The bed dips behind Ellie, and goosebumps rise on her skin when your lips connect with the muscles in her back. Graze all the way up her neck, “And you would, too. Lil’ freak.” Ellie’s core gives a tight squeeze. What a change of fucking events: used to be bullied over being the school’s freak show, and now her body’s begging her girlfriend to throw it in her face one more time. 
“I’m not posting anything.” 
You tsk, “A shame. Could’ve used that OnlyFans bag.” A dreamy sigh from you, “You know you can do whatever you want to me, right?” 
“I’ve been told.” 
“And I meant it.” You’re a fucking siren, “Your time to shine, baby. Nothing’s off limits in my book.” 
Ellie’s stern, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” 
“Whatever you like, I like. Wanna feel how wet you make me, space ranger?” 
You and Ellie are polar opposites, and somehow share the singular fucking braincell when you’re horny. You have the same effect on her. She turns her head to meet your eyes, “Can I fix the camera first?” 
A gentle peck on her cheek gets her body thrumming, “Ay, ay, captain.” And you fall back onto the mattress, rolling until you reach the other side of the bed. You’re up and running to the bathroom… with the 9M Sex bag in your hand. 
… Ellie’s never been more afraid(wet) than she is right now. 
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The set up is ready. One tripod simply wasn’t enough to capture all that you bring; Ellie found another thrown in the back of her closet and got it situated, angled and ready, at the foot of the bed where her phone and iPad lay. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous like you didn’t just beat her walls down a few hours ago. This discarded blunt isn’t helping her, either. 
Ellie’s confident that she’ll faint mid-stroke—
“Smells like pussy in here.” 
Ellie blushes and turns at your call from the bathroom entryway. She’s engulfed in flames at the sight of you. 
… You’re cute. She’ll give you that. 
She scoffs a laugh around smoke at the alien antennas in your locs, and the green alien head on the triangle of your thong. Her eyes squint as she watches you pose in the doorway, bent over, squeezing your breasts. She scales your body as you prance over until you’re standing in front of her, staring down into her eyes. 
“Whatcha think, space ranger?” You seduce, pushing your tits into her face, “Wanna teach a clueless little alien about sexual healing?” 
“You’re… insane.” 
“You love it,” … She does. Fuck, she does. You leer at her, “Is she rollin’?”
… Weed? Always.
… Camera. Camera! 
Ellie drags her free hand up the back of your thigh while sticking her blunt between her lips, blindly reaching around to the camera. Her fingers feel around until a small beep slices through the weighted silence, the red light indicating the start of a recording. 
“She is now.” Ellie takes one last rip, and it chokes her a bit, smoke wafting up to your nostrils before she stubs it out, discarding her tray and lighter to the side. The scent gets you giddy. 
You hum, and Ellie falls back at your shove, and 
she’s pounced on in no time. Your finger locks around her Spider-Man charm to pull her closer. You’re slow at first, teasing her mouth with yours before pecking, licking over her lips like a kitten while she gets handfuls of your bare ass. Boldness sparks in her chest when she thinks about the camera directly behind you; her hands move mindlessly, pulling your asscheeks apart until the string is right above your stretched asshole, your pussy lips swallowing the tiny triangle. 
You moan into her mouth when the bunched fabric rubs against your clit; the fabric is already soaked through and sticky, and the kiss breaks with Ellie’s satisfied grin. 
Adrenaline jolts through her body when her mouth trails down your jaw, a tight hand clamped around your soft cheeks to force your head wherever she needs it. She drinks up every small noise you breathe into the muggy air, mouth tickling the shell of your ear like a feather, Ride my fucking face, she whispers — demands; it sounds like she’s begging, and you gasp. 
Do it, Ellie beckons, Show out, superstar. 
Your girlfriend is so fucking sexy… But, of course, your dark thoughts win. 
“S-Should I make, like… alien noises when I bust, or somethin’? E.T, phone home type shit?”
Ellie snaps with a glare, “Don’t kill my fucking vibe.” 
“Okay, damn! My fault! Just tryna be cute for the vlog.” 
“… It’s not a fucking vlog—“
“Day in the life of annoying artistic lesbians who are also gay—“
“I'm drying up.” Ellie’s palms dig into her eyes. 
“No you’re not,” you purr before climbing up her torso. She grabs your waist before you reach her chin. 
“Turn around. Want the cam to see your face.” 
Your antennas wiggle on your head when you switch positions, “… Beep bop beepboop—“
You fall over in hysterics at Ellie’s hollered laughter. “Oh my — PFFFT —“
“STOP FUCKING LAUGHING!” You scream back at her, wiping tears from your face, “I’m tryna be cute!” You huff and swing a leg over her waist, and Ellie silences. The length of your back is on display for her; You’re cracking jokes about fucking alien sex but she’s not listening. How could she when your ass rests pert on her chest, when the sight of your dripping cunt and tight asshole is right there? Practically on her chin—
C’mere. Back up a little. She whispers, but you’re shy, only inching up her chest with sparkly eyes. Ellie rolls hers before wrapping her arms around your thighs to yank you back. She snickers and eyes the wet alien over your clit. 
Her smile drops when a sly hand slides over your ass, index finger hitching into the string of your thong to pull it to the side. A moan leaves Ellie’s mouth when your pussy clenches from above, and you snort mockingly. 
You’re easy as fuck. Such a cutie pie—
Shut the fuck up, you only laugh harder, and Ellie’s hands twitch, irritation sizzling in her fingertips. You’re so fucking annoying and she’s soaking. She’d drink you for days. 
The next moments go by in a flash; your thong is shredded by icy hands, dangling limply from your waist as excited squeals leave your mouth. Ellie’s tongue is aggressive where it swipes all over your cunt, arms synched tight around the meat of your thighs to hold you still. Your smell intoxicates her, turns her mind lucid, makes her squirm and ache. Every second that passes, her excitement to re-watch your creation grows. She wishes she could see you. 
You love cameras, attention — limelight. You deserve every inkling of praise; mutters against your cunt how good you are, how soft your pussy is, how bad she wants to make you cry. Ellie growls into you when your hips start rocking on her face, testing the waters with your hands planted on her thighs. Her arms drop flat on the mattress, allowing you full access to use her. Ellie’s tongue lays over her bottom lip, and your movements bolden. Your hips curl, slick smearing all over her mouth to the tip of her nose. 
F—Fuck, baby, oh shit— 
Ellie moans like she’s urging you to drench her entire face. Her tongue slithers inside your cunt and you choke out her name, nails sinking into her thighs. The muscle moves inside you with purpose, swirling up against your walls as they squeeze down. The cries that leave are too much for her; she swears there’s a puddle left on the blankets beneath her. 
When you gasp, fuck, baby, cumming for you, Ellie whimpers and her thighs squeeze together. Her arms pull you as close as she can get you, slurping and sucking at your clit as it pulses through your orgasm. You beg her not to stop, thighs quaking around her head. Ellie alternates from flicking your clit to sucking cum from your slit, and she envisions your gorgeous eyes rolled back beneath her eyelids. 
Wanna make me cum again, baby? Yeah? Your sonics tremble alongside Ellie’s thighs. She knows you're smiling like an angel at the lens and she sobs for more of your cum, more of your taste. Your moans pick up with the snaps of your hips once more. 
F-Fuck me with your tongue, Ellie, You plead and she listens; Your walls melt around her, softness closing in around the wet muscle. Ellie’s whole body twitches when a soft hand rests above her boxers, right on her swollen bud and rubs. She's bucking up into your palm, desperate for friction, but you don't... give it. She groans against your lips and sucks you harder, and you squeal.
It doesn't take long for you to peak again; slick glides down Ellie's chin and drowns her, coats her throat in dreamy stickiness with her nails in the fat of your ass.
She slurps and eats you up until you're running up the mattress with her name melted on your tongue.
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“How the fuck — oh my fuckin’ god, put your head down—“
Ellie snickers at you struggling to get her in the frame of the iPad camera. She comfortingly rubs over your ass, “There’s a camera right in front of you, babe—“
“Not good enough. I’m tryna watch you hit it.” 
More jerking around. More flipping of the device. More sighs of annoyance before you strike gold. 80% of Ellie’s face is in frame… alongside her pretty titties. Mission somewhat accomplished. You watch her smile through the lens before sending a thumbs up. The iPad gets adjusted before you throw her one behind your head. 
“Uhhh… So what now?” 
“What do you mean.” 
“I just… stick it in?” 
“Mhm. Touch anywhere. Fuck me however you want. Make love to me. I’ll love it. I love you.” 
Your voice turns her into the largest puddle of pink glitter. That deep, broken twinge gets her bones sizzling. “I love you more.” 
Your hips buck back on her so hard that she almost falls over, but she managed to catch what you’re throwing. Barely. Her heart’s in her throat. 
“Prove it…”
Ellie can see your smile and her teeth grit at your snicker. 
“Fucking bottom.” 
Your head gets pushed down into the sheet, and you smile, antennas standing tall. You grin so goddamn wide. Lottery. Lottery— 
Everything is silent… Minus the little alert of the started recording when Ellie whispers against the curve of your ear, 
“Don’t start that shit again. Don’t.” 
You whimper as audibly as you can with a smushed cheek. It seems to push her; she’s reaching between your legs and your clit leaps in appreciation. In infatuation. Her fingers slosh between a deep brown and pink as she messily kisses your sweaty back. 
“Behave.” Her rubs are deadly on your clit, 
“I-I know we were joking earlier—“
“What now—“
“You like being called daddy?” 
Everything stops. Your brain never fails to ruin your satisfaction. “No, what the fuck—“
“Damn… forreal?” 
“Dude—“
“Just asking! You may proceed.” 
When Ellie senses that you’ll finally shut the fuck up, she does, and you’re happy again. 
“If you call me mommy, I’ll strangle you.” Ellie slurs wetly against the end of your spine. She tsks when she catches your ass and cunt squeeze down at the threat, walls sucking hard on the finger she hadn’t registered slipped in. Fucking high-fiving each other. 
The curve in your spine deepens when a certain tip rubs up against your clit. Nestles right in between the plump of your lips. Slides back and forth slowly. 
You’re so loud already… You’re watching your own nut build right in front of your eyes; You can’t help it. In front of your sexy ass girlfriend. Mainly due to the mirroring of Ellie staring at where you two connect with such thirst. She’s ravenous for you and you fucking love her. 
“Fuck me, baby, please, please.“ 
“I like that.” She states plainly, so you get louder. 
“Please, Ellie, please? Ple—”
A recording alert and a flash appears in your lens. Ellie holds her phone up as she captures you from the back; all over your spine, your ass, your holes that desperately twitch and beg for her entry. 
“Shhh, gotchu, honey. Just playing with you.” She coos quietly. Your body wracks at her voice and she hides a smirk with teeth in her lip. “Wish you could see how much you’re leaking right now. So fucking sexy.”
No brain. Brainless. You’re brainless. Just Ellie and pleasure and happiness and love. Your blinks are lost. You may never go back to your dad’s again. 
You can’t see her guide herself in but you feel it. Feel that nudge inside and your mouth gapes. The iPad tremors with your shaky movements as she presses in. She takes her time, captures every pant and jerk of hips before she halts them with a stern hand. When she’s fully sat inside you, she locks eyes with you in the front frame. Drinks in your muted pleads of her to wreck you however she pleases. 
Ellie holds your gaze when she pulls out. She’s battling; conflicted between watching how your eyes welt and shine or memorizing the stretch of your cunt. Jade crystals flit back and forth. Anywhere they can reach. 
H-How ya doin’ back there? 
A harsh thrust from your girlfriend earns her a guttural noise from your lips before she mumbles, Think m’ good. 
You are, baby, fuck—
Praise gets her going. She stops her own recording and tosses her phone some fucking where before hands close around your hips — tightly, so tightly. Holds you steady and still before she takes. 
Ellie might not use this fucking iPad footage. The screen fucking rattles every time she hits and crests deep inside you, bruising you. All that’s caught in the frame is your lovedrunk eyes and your loud, slobbery mouth and glittery antennas bouncing on your head. Quick glimpses of Ellie’s tits jumping. 
There’s a constant change of pace and it gives you whiplash. Her fucking goes from brutal to passionate to leisure to just fucking grinding while she’s fully submerged in your wetness. She’s experimenting, as she should! You treasure every grab and scratch and tug at your skin. She’s yanking and pulling at you like a fucking rag doll and your body goes lax. 
So does your fucking tongue, apparently. 
“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie spits down at you. 
But she doesn’t stop. She fucks you faster, and you start sobbing. 
“Y-You fucking heard me. I know you wanna—“
“I’m not saying that shit.” Her hips snap with intent to punish and the device falls from your hands, face planted deep in her soft blankets and tugging at her sheets. 
“Just say it! Sayitsayit—“
Ellie groans like an animal from behind you. Grabs the back of your neck and shoves your face down into her sheets, muffling your shouts and begs to degrade the living shit outta you. Call you disgusting names that got the two of you in that complicated mess when you first met. The slapping of wet skin and your screams make her crazed and wound up so tight that she almost slips. 
Ellie’s trying to ignore the piercing, tearful pleads of callmeaslutcallmeaslutimyourwhore but she’s leaking like a fucking faucet. Knows she shouldn’t reopen that fucking Pandora’s box when you’re so vulnerable, but she’s fuckdrunk and so are you. 
“You gonna cum?” 
You nod. 
“You like when I’m mean to you?” 
You nod faster and Ellie’s tummy squeezes. She scoffs a disgusting laugh before her body melds against your back, your angled knees slipping down the mattress so she’s fully laid on you, viperid tongue right at your ear… 
It's just this once... You know she loves you... One little jumbled slur wouldn't do too much harm. You're begging her for it, aren't you?
Something in your mind breaks over the next minute and a half. The last memory you have is Ellie’s teeth nipping at your lobe before she whispered, 
I love turning you into my nasty little slut. 
And that was that. You entered another universe filled with white noise and colorful lights and Ellie and… a lotta wet. You could’ve been in the Atlantic with how drenched her mattress is right now. You owe her an apology. 
Top 2 best nuts of your life and it’s not 2. 
Your pussy’s still twitching around her even though she’s left you immobile. You hardly register her mumble against your back, 
“I didn’t get my pic.”
You make a questioned, weak noise. Your index finger twitches, so she grabs your wrist to kiss it. 
“I needa pic of your O face. I’m starting a collection. We gotta run it back again.” 
Another broken wheeze. A death sentence is what you have. What your girlfriend will give you. 
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Ellie was a virgin when you met her… but was she really? 
You have no idea what time of day it is, what day it is, or where your fucking cat has ventured off in the house, but you’re about seven —maybe eight— nuts deep, and your girlfriend is still fucking you. 
You thought she was joking when she shoved her phone in your hand and instructed you to capture the moment right before you bust all over her, but she actually meant it… What the fuck does she think you are? Smart? Not in this fucking state. How do you even work this goddamn phone again? 
C’mon, baby. I just need a good one. Give it to me ‘n I’ll stop. 
Her pleading moan is a double-ended sword. Your legs are so sore from being held in air as she plowed you, but you’re also a deranged, sex-obsessed, girlfriend-obsessed lesbo. Do you really want her to stop or has the dopamine melted all your brain cells? The amount of mid-orgasm photos you’ve taken over the past hour could’ve filled a museum, but Ellie’s always dissatisfied, saying that she can barely see your face because you kept wiggling around. What does she expect! 
She’s digging for that picture, though. Right at your cervix. 
Been such a good little slut. Taking it so good. Just do this last little thing for me. 
You’re nodding but you’re not listening. Bells and whistles ring in your ears as your filled hand shakes. The tightness in your walls steals your breath for a second. 
Tell me when you're boutta cum. 
You somehow manage to get a squeak out, barely audible, but Ellie gets the point. Her hands find refuge underneath your knees and bring them up higher while she mouths at your neck. It happens all over again; that cresting feeling right before you crash. 
I love you. Make it good. 
Ellie’s ears split at your shouts of her name, but she grins madly at the sound of frantic camera clicks coming from above her. She plants a doting kiss on your cheek. 
You hope you did. You really hope you did.
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taggiessssss thanks 4 waiting :3 @dyk3ang3l @ellieloml @inf3ct3dd @fromminaa @womenofarcane @sawaagyapong @mina-281 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @i00rii @sakiigami @starologist @southelroys @diddiqueen @trackinglessons @ellieswhorcrux @villainousbear @p4ison1vy @tohoko @yuckyfucky @dollyfleurs @elsbunny222 @sevsbimbo @amiorca @alittlextrahoney @gato-chino @topiatwin @r3wbeef @elliesatchel @muthafuckingstargirl @callmewhenyoukan @macaroni676 @draculurasblog @ellieaesp @@gravygranules @elsblunt
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steddielations · 5 days
Text
- nsfw, age gap, rockstar Eddie, drummer steve
Eddie should not be wearing a plug here.
It’s stupid. It’s reckless. But that inner voice that led to decades of being stupid and reckless says it’s fine, it’s just for Eddie. Steve doesn’t have to know, unless he wants to find out.
It really is just for Eddie. It’s more for confidence than kink. It’s a trick he learned back when he was still getting comfortable on stage, back when he could still handle the fast life. Started way back when he was a teenager, dear old dad made sure to turn his talent into cold hard cash.
Now here Eddie is, way too many years of coping with drugs and never any therapy later, retired rockstar doing the whole studio owner mentoring baby rockstars thing. Someone’s gotta keep rock and roll alive so long as Eddie’s still kicking.
So the first thing that comes with years of being stone cold sober is realizing he spent too much time on the road and in the closet, not enough time growing roots so he’d have someone to settle down with when he stopped being so afraid of it.
The second thing is a dick that doesn’t work half the time because maybe if someone told him doing drugs would land him limp-dick at 40, he would’ve stopped sooner. The third thing is that he’s going to die alone with his floppy dick and trust issues.
So with the wild life Eddie lives nowadays, it’s no surprise that a couple smiles and smooth words from a good looking young drummer sent him into a spiral.
Steve’s a session musician, an independent guy that looked good on paper and even better in person. He’s got more heart and grit than the last few ‘frontmans’ Eddie tried to get something real out of. Steve knows it too, the way everyone does at 28.
He’s got the same cockiness in his skills as Eddie, but he knows he’s more than just his skills in a way that Eddie wishes he could’ve known at that age. He’s confident enough to make his own suggestions to Eddie, calls him old fashioned and he’s smooth about it, strikes up debates about music and he’s fucking sassy about it.
Eddie’s gotta be under some kinda spell to be considering Springsteen is one of the greats like Steve insists.
It’s not just because Steve’s younger, there’s always been girls much younger than late 20s trying to get with him for his name, status, money. Bless their hearts, maybe if he was still 20 years deep in the closet. It’s not just because Steve’s a guy either, there’s plenty of young guys now that dare to bat their eyes and call him Daddy and want to get fucked.
No, it’s because Steve’s different. The opposite, even.
Eddie slips up and calls him sweetheart once and it’s like Steve was just waiting to open that door and let every babe and handsome and honey slip out from his lips.
He notices Eddie checking out his biceps as he’s banging away on the drums once and sends him a wink that nearly makes him flatline.
He’s not intimidated to get in Eddie’s space. He has no reason to ever be in the control room, but Eddie doesn’t question it when Steve’s close, leaning over him with a warm hand pressed to the small of his back for one second. Eddie’s so hot faced and flustered that he gets his long hair caught in some of the board switches.
“Fuck, fucking, god damn it,” Eddie curses, tangling it even more trying to yank it free and vowing to chop it all off later.
“It’s alright, here, let's get you sorted out.” Steve’s steady hand closes over Eddie’s, gentle and warm as he eases the lock of hair free. Eddie’s breath lodges in his throat when Steve reaches up, fingers brushing Eddie’s face as he combs through his long silver streaked waves and says, “Don’t ever cut your hair. I love it too much.”
God. Steve makes Eddie feel like he’s a pretty young thing getting moves put on him in the kinda club that he was always too famous, too busy and too afraid to go to at that age.
It can’t be real. Steve can’t be serious. Eddie’s mean. Bitter. He talks shit about everyone and everything. He’s nothing without a guitar. He’s got the prickly rind of daddy issues and doesn’t even have Wayne to make it better anymore. The whole world adoring him all his life only fed his ego. He’s worth millions of dollars and feels like nothing most days. His only real friends are his bandmates that he doesn’t call often enough because they love each other, but they’re sick of each other, being stuck together all those years.
Surely, Steve’s just bored and playing with him. Eddie needs a kick of confidence to deal with it until Steve’s contract ends and he’s done playing with Eddie.
So that’s why Eddie’s got a plug up his ass at the studio. At work, technically.
It helps. It gives him all the inner fire he needs to ignore when he feels Steve’s eyes burning into him, and push his hand through his hair that Steve loves, and sway his hips as Steve’s gaze follows him walking out to the bathroom.
Oh yeah, Eddie’s still got it.
And he has to piss. Really bad. His bladder just ain’t what it used to be and when he’s gotta go, he’s gotta go and for whatever reason, he can’t do it with the plug inside him.
Eddie’s locked in a stall so he doesn’t hesitate to undo his belt and reach inside to pull it out. He holds it while he uses the toilet, so distracted sighing in relief like such an old man that he doesn’t realize how lube-slippery the thing is.
It’s too late. He drops his plug and it rolls out from under the stall just as the bathroom door opens and shuts slowly.
Then Eddie feels both relief and panic when it’s Steve’s voice that asks, “Eddie, did you drop something, honey?”
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stillnotyourmusebitch · 2 months
Note
I can’t stop thinking of demon! Adam going through development and reaching the point of like,, doing something nice without anyone telling him to do it, purely for the sake of doing it. Something he never would have done before. Even if it’s something as small as sitting down with you while you’re watching your favorite movie or show and not shitting on it the whole time, just to keep you company. Or something like that. I dunno. I’m just a sucker for slow burn subtextual romance.
THAT, and the reader seeing his face beneath the mask, looking him the eyes, and smiling a little. Even if they say nothing. I feel like that would stick with him.
Exactly. Demon!Adam lives in my head rent free now. I know this weren't a request of sorts but I kinda wrote something for this
random ficlet below
Demon!Adam x GN!reader (Fluff)
DemonSinner!Adam is something that plays on my mind a lot. He still doesn’t believe in the whole redemption shit that Charlie is laying down but if it gets him a glimpse of seeing heaven again he is willing to try.
-----
Adam was bored and needed something to do that would put off the inevitable “therapy” session with Lucifer’s brat later. So that must be why he finds himself outside your room. He knocks lightly on your door. You didn’t answer, he knocked again louder this time. Still no answer. So he opens the door and peers in.
“Hey errr (Y/n) Charlie asked me to check on you.” A blatant lie but he won’t tell you that.
He sees you’re watching TV.
“Huh? What no shitty nickname this time?” You mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. Adam walks over and flops down on the couch next to you.
“Oh yeah, nah I didn’t really feel like it.” He grabs a handful of your popcorn.
You quirk a brow.
“Also Charlie said nooo giving nicknames to people that demean them and also who don’t want it and people were given names to be used blah blah blah.” He shoves the popcorn into his mouth. “So what are we watchin?”
“I'm watching a movie I really like so if you're staying either shut up or fuck off.” You sink back into your blanket cocoon.
*10 minutes later*
“What the fuck! This guy clearly likes her but she goes for the other bozo. Is she blind . . . . as well as ya know hot.”
You choke on your drink. You didn’t think that this would be his kinda thing but here he was emotionally invested in the film you had picked. You had really wanted to just wallow in your depression by binge watching trashy romcoms but what was really making you feel better was watching the ‘dickmaster’ himself rooting for the underdog to open up about his feelings to the lead woman.
You go to grab some popcorn but see the bowl is empty.
“Gotta pause.” You go to stand but he stops you.
“I got this.” He hides the good deed by quickly saying “And I need to piss anyway.” You pass him the bowl.
“Not in the popcorn I hope.” You rearrange yourself back in your blanket burrito.
“HAA, You nasty but don’t watch without me. Coz that is a dick move.”
“You know all about those.” You mutter into the blanket. But Adam had gone to the hotel kitchen to make popcorn.
You chose to scroll on your phone until he got back. There were a few messages but you didn’t really feel like answering them. You flop on your side. You can always move when he came back.
While you waited in silence for Adam. You think back on how he really was getting better. After seeing him slowly open up to Charlie’s ideas and seeing that he can be a good guy when it suits him. You smile to yourself.
Your door slams open.
“Okay I’m back bitch.”
Nevermind looks like he has thrown up his walls again.
He lays out the armful of snacks and the bowl of popcorn that looks way bigger than the bowl he left with. He sees you on your side.
“You comfy down there?”
You groan and slowly sit up again. He sits back down but wraps an arm around you and hugs you into his side and nothing more.
“Okay we can continue now.” He grabs the popcorn and rests it on his lap.
You set the movie going again and snuggle just a little bit closer. For popcorn reasons of course not that Adam was nice and warm and you felt safe next to him.
“Clearly she don’t know a good thing when she sees it.” You pipe up after about three minutes into the film again. You had seen this film so many times but there was one scene that always brought out annoyance in you.
“Right!! She needs to open her eyes this guy clearly loves her for who they are and not some fake ass bs that other . . . what?” Adam stops mid-sentence looking down at you resting against his chest.
You blink a few times before realising you are staring “Huh oh nothing.”
You focus back on the screen in front of you.
The climatic end of the film was approaching and the main lead were confessing their love and as the credits role you can here someone crying. You glance up and see Adam wiping away tears.
“You okay.” You sit up and reach for the tissues on the table to hand them to him.
“What!!! I’m fine. Of course I’m fiiiine. Shut up bitch.” He grabs the tissue box from you.
“If it helps I cried the first time I watched this movie.” You wrap the blankets tighter around yourself.
“I . . . ah . . shit.” He saw you curling further in on yourself. He feels guilt crawling into his stomach. “Sorry, I’m . . .Ugh. Look I’m bad at these feel your feelings crap that Charlie spouts. But it was a good film and yeah I cried but . . .”
“It don’t make you any less of a man.”
“Yeeeah I know. Of course I know. I’m the first man.”
“Huh back to that are we.” You bump shoulders with him, making him laugh.
He pulls you back into his side “So what are we watching now?”
------
I really didn't mean for this to be as long as it was. I'm sorry
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thefallennightmare · 2 months
Text
Just Pretend-Twenty Four
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: Did y'all bring your umbrellas and washcloths? Cause it gets a bit messy in this.
FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.
We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.
🪽🔮
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus
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NOAH
“So are you saying there’s a new Bad Omens music video on the horizon?” 
With a trick smile, I adjusted my position in the chair and shrugged to the camera on my computer. “Uh, yeah. I can’t tell you which one but it’ll be out there soon.” 
The group of people who were interviewing me via Zoom cheered until one of them asked the next question. It went like this for a few more minutes and I did my best to pay attention and not reach for my phone. Tonight was important and even with how poised and professional I looked during the interview, my knee was bouncing under my desk with nerves. Everything had been planned down to the last detail, Michael giving me shit for stressing out about nothing. 
“It’s Y/N, you know she’d be fine with just an easel and new paints,” he chuckled while watching me set up Y/N’s studio. 
I paused setting up the plants on a shelf to turn towards him. “I know. But she deserves this; all of this. She needs a place to escape by herself for a little while.” 
“You have to relax,” Michael rested his hands on my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes. “You need to enjoy the new beginnings of your relationship. You and Y/N love each other, that’s what matters. Not how many plants she has.” 
Shaking my head from the earlier memory, I hummed towards the interviewer. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” 
She chuckled. “We’ve seen some growth vocally on this new record from the last. Can you give us a little insight on that?” 
With a nod, I divulged how I recently started working with a vocal coach who helped bring out this side of me that I had always hidden under a veil of self-doubt and insecurities. 
Suddenly my phone buzzed on the desk and I quickly peered down at it, my heart jumping into my throat. 
Angel 🪽: I’m walking out of therapy right now, I’ll be home and ready to go in an hour! 
While the interviewers chatted amongst themselves briefly, I typed out a fast response before taking a long drink of my coffee. 
Me: No rush, angel. We have all night. I should be finishing up this interview soon. 
Another question and another answer. It went on like this for a few minutes until I noticed another text from Y/N. 
Angel 🪽: You already got coffee?🥺 
My heart dropped when I saw that emoji because I could vividly picture her soft lips in a pout just like it. Her bright eyes wide. 
Me: Don’t do that, you know I can’t resist that face you pull.  Jolly brought it from Fika. Astrid made an extra by mistake. We can swing by and get you one.
Thankfully, my hands were just off camera so no one who was watching would be able to see my texting. 
Wait. 
Me: Wait, are you watching? You little sneak.
Deciding to give my attention back to the interview, I finished it within the next thirty minutes and thanked them with a wide smile before clicking out of Zoom. Standing up from the desk in the studio, I read Y/N’s message as I trotted down the stairs toward my bedroom. 
Angel 🪽: Of course, I’m watching. I watch all of your interviews. I also love teasing you. I already stopped by Fika after therapy. I will say that I’m excited about what you have planned for later. 
Veering left instead of right, I stepped inside Y/N’s art studio and stood in the middle of the room, assessing every inch of it to make sure it was absolutely perfect. The memory of earlier today stumbling inside with both arms full of bags that contained a variety of different paint and drawing supplies. The guys merely smirked as they saw me struggling even having a bag hanging from my teeth before I motioned to the outside with my head and mumbled two words. 
Help. Car.
The studio was perfect and spotless when I made sure that everything was where it needed to be. As I headed across the hall into my bedroom to finish getting ready, I sent a text to Y/N; one she responded to almost immediately. 
Me: I can’t wait. I love you.
Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi. 
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READER
“Oh my god, I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite,” I groaned while stepping out of Noah’s car as he held the door open for me. 
“Greek was a good choice, huh?” He chuckled as he walked around the car towards me; a little bell jingling behind him. 
I looped my arm through his and rested my head against his shoulder. “You know I’d never turn down a chance for Greek food.” 
“I never thought I’d be such a fan of it. I’ve always thought it was just gyros. The spinakorprita was good.” 
I stifled my laugh into his bicep. “It’s spanakopita.” 
“Spa-na-ko-pi-ta.” 
Noah sounded out slowly and I kissed his shoulder. “Good job! Pretty soon I’ll have you fluent in Greek and we can visit Greece.” 
He brushed a kiss along my forehead and I peered down at the feline that rubbed his face along Noah’s leg. 
“Are you sure he’s okay on the harness?” I bit my lip. “He can’t slip out of it?” 
“Salem is fine, angel. He loves this thing. You should have seen him running through the grass when I had him a couple of months ago.” 
To reassure me worries, however, Noah picked up Salem to hold him against his chest, our cat purring loudly as I pressed a kiss on his head. 
“Thank you for letting me bring him. I figured it would be good to get him acclimated here in case you have to watch him for me,” I said as we began walking up towards the house. 
“I’ve been wanting to show him the new cat tree I bought him,” Noah smiled. 
When we came to a stop at his front door I untangled myself from him and then reached inside my purse for my camera. 
“Angel,” he started. 
Waving him off, I backed away a few feet and motioned to him to stay there. “Just one picture in front of the house. You look so cute tonight. Plus, I need a picture of my boys.” 
Even with the dim street light but the bright glow of the moon, I saw the red hue cover Noah’s cheeks with my compliment, and eventually, threw up his trademark peace sign with one hand and continued to hold Salem in the other. 
Snapping a few different poses, I pocketed the Polaroids after they printed and skipped back toward Noah, who had opened the front door and allowed me to step inside the quiet house. 
“Where is everyone?” I wondered. 
Noah hung up his keys on the hook next to the front door. “Movies. The local theater is playing the old Japanese version of Godzilla.” 
“You turned that down?” I asked with wide eyes. “You love old Japanese movies.” 
“No place I’d rather be than right here, with you,” he mused while wrapping his arms around me to place a chaste kiss on my lips. 
“How sweet,” I cooed while patting his chest. 
Noah let Salem off the harness so he could explore the house, he immediately found the cat tree and curled up in the top bed part. 
Something was bothering Noah, however, no matter how bright he smiled. I could sense it in the way he kept fidgeting with his hands during dinner to how often he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel on the way back to his house. 
“What’s on your mind?” I questioned while palming his cheek. 
He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I want to show you something.” 
“You do?” My heart fluttered. 
Linking our fingers together, Noah led me down the hallway towards his room, but we veered left instead to stop in front of a closed door. With our hands on his chest, I felt the rapid beat of his heart and let out a low laugh. 
“Mochi, your heart is racing,” I said. 
He nodded. “I’ve been working on something the last few months since I’ve moved in trying to make it perfect. I think I’ve annoyed both my roommates and yours.” 
“Chase and Malcolm know about this?” I questioned. 
“Yeah. They sent me some of the products you use, your favorite brands; things like that. I wanted to make sure that you don’t have to worry about lugging things back and forth,” Noah shifted on his feet. 
“Okay, what is it?” I bounced on my heels with excitement. “You’ve already surprised me with the vanity. What do you have hiding behind that door? 
I gasped. “Is it a puppy?! No, wait. That wouldn’t make sense.” 
Noah chuckled while cupping my face to leave a kiss on my forehead. “No puppy. Maybe down the road.” 
“Well, will you show me already? I’m getting antsy!” I patted his chest before messing with his chain between my fingers. 
I still wore my matching set, never taking them off. 
“Close your eyes,” he ordered. 
With a pout, I tried to get out of doing it but instead, Noah covered my vision with his large hand. Feeling his presence behind me, I heard the door click open and he led me inside the room. The hand over my eyes shook so I grazed my fingers over the back of it, letting him know that he didn’t have to be nervous. 
“I want to make sure you love it, angel,” Noah pressed a kiss behind my ear. “OK. Are you ready?” 
“Yes!” I exclaimed. 
Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, a hand went to my mouth as a gasp fell from my lips. It was overwhelming and almost too many different things to take in, I didn’t know where to look first. 
There were four different-sized easels in each corner of the room. 
An angled desk in front of the large window, one that people would use to draw on. 
Three shelves above that desk held various paints, brushes, and charcoals. 
Plants littered almost every inch of space that wasn't overtaken with painting supplies. 
The closet in the room was wide open, showcasing even more stock of supplies and different size canvases. 
The best part? Hardwood floors. 
With tears in my eyes, I slowly turned back to Noah, standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back. 
“So?” 
“I-,” I cleared my throat when the words came out jumbled. “You did this?” 
“Yeah. I wanted to give you your own space here. To come too whenever you wanted, even if I wasn’t home,” he wrung his hands together. 
“Really?” I choked out. “Don’t you think you should maybe check with the guys about having me come over here all the time unannounced?” 
“Angel,” he took a step towards me and grabbed my hands, his thumb brushing mine. “Jesse was the one that suggested I give you a key.” 
My eyes doubled. “A key?” 
Noah now dug into his pocket to pull out a black key, gently setting it in my open palm. “I want you to have a place to come and stay. I’m not asking you to move completely in, but if it's getting a little stuffy in that small apartment with Chase and Malcolm, you and Salem can come to spend the night here.” 
I let out a small chuckle, a few tears falling from my eyes, and then held the key close to my chest. “You gave me all of this but I have nothing in return, Noah.” 
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and mused. “Your love is enough, Y/N.” 
“I love you. Thank you for all of this.” I pressed my head against his chest while wrapping my arms around him. 
“I love you too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now, welcome to the other part of our first date.” 
I gazed up at him through lashes. “We’re going to paint?” 
“Now, I’m not a professional like you,” he snorted before pulling me over to two easels that were next to each other. “But I thought it would be a cute idea.” 
“I would not call myself a professional.” 
“Still better than me,” Noah said. 
I raised a playful brow while crossing my arms over my chest. “Want to make this interesting?” 
He smirked while resting his hands on my hips. “I’m all ears, angel.” 
“Whoever has the worst painting has to get the winner's birthday tattooed on them.” 
“Oh, it’s a bet,” he sealed it with a kiss. 
Noah pulled out the little stool for me to which I sat with a smile, pulling up the ends of my yellow maxi skirt to sit comfortably. While Noah busied himself with setting up music to play from the Bluetooth speaker, I removed my jacket to set it neatly on the ground at my feet. 
“Do you want an old shirt of mine to change into?” He asked while pointing to my white top. 
I noticed that Noah had shed his gray button-up and was wearing a blank tank top. I licked my lips at the site of his muscles, the tattoos suddenly seeming more fitting now that he had been working out a lot more. 
Remind me to thank Ash. 
Snapping my eyes away from the broadness of his chest, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, mochi. Thank you though. I don't typically make a mess.” 
“Hm, the paint stains on the dining room carpet say otherwise,” he teased. 
Playfully smacking Noah’s arm, we both got settled as the music filtered into the air and I got lost in my mind, painting whatever my soul called for. We found ourselves in a peaceful quiet, simply enjoying each other's presence. Every so often I would glance over to Noah, making sure that he was enjoying himself only because I knew painting wasn't for everyone. 
He had narrowed eyes of precision as he stroked the brush wave after wave against the canvas. From this angle, I couldn’t see what he was painting. Instead, I leaned over to rummage in my purse, pulled out my Polaroid camera, and snapped a few shots of Noah before one of me, with him in the background. I set the pictures on the desk next to me before getting back to my painting. 
“How’s it going over there?” 
Noah’s soothing voice brought me out of my trance and I glanced over at him with a smile. “Good, I’m almost finished. What about you?” 
“Promise you won't laugh?” 
“Of course, mochi.” 
I made a show of crossing my heart but let out a squeal of laughter when Noah hooked his foot around the foot of the stool and dragged me over towards him. He gave me a quick kiss but still wouldn’t let me see what he painted. 
“I’ve been told I’m a great artist, granted that was in the second grade,” Noah chuckled before finally showing me his canvas and what he spent the last thirty minutes painting. 
I covered my mouth with a hand not to stifle a gasp but instead a laugh. He painted stick figure versions of him, me, and Salem in front of a house; even with the bright yellow sun in the corner of the canvas. 
“Wow,” I nodded. “All I’ll have to say is don’t quit your day job, mochi.” 
Noah scoffed. “Fuck, that was cold. But it's true. There’s a reason why I’m a musician, not a painter. I’ll leave that to you, angel.” 
“I love it!” I beamed while ruffling his hair and laying a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’ll hang it up above my bed.” 
“What did you paint?” He wondered. 
“Oh nothing too important, just some abstract colors. I didn’t really have an actual vision. I kind of let the paint speak to me as I go,” I said. 
When I showed him my painting, Noah’s eyes glinted and he smiled. “I like it. I’ll have to hang this above my bed.” 
“So I think it’s safe to say that I won the bet? And now you have to get my birthday tattooed on you,” I grinned while going about to clean up the paint and brushes. 
When Noah didn’t respond, I glanced over my shoulder to see that he had a very sly smirk playing on his lips and I popped my hip out, resting a hand on it. 
“Noah Sebastian. Did you purposely lose this bet so you could get my birthday tattooed?” 
He hummed along to the song playing on the speaker, still not answering my question but never getting rid of that smirk on his face. His silence, however, was exactly the answer I needed. 
What a cheeky little...
With the dirty paintbrush in my hand, I flicked it over at Noah, the leftover paint spraying over his chest when he turned towards me. His eyes bounced down to the paint splatter over his black tank top to me, a shocked expression on his face. 
“Did you just throw paint on me?” 
I shrugged. “Oops?”
“Really? Oops?” Noah dipped a larger paintbrush into a handful of different colors before throwing it all over my face and neck. 
“NOAH!” I screeched with a boisterous laugh. 
Suddenly, he picked me up to twirl me in the air before tackling me onto the ground then started painting my arms and neck as I found underneath him. 
“I’m sorry!” I giggled while trying to reach for the paintbrush I dropped; fingertips grasping at it. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m busy painting a masterpiece,” Noah responded, painting shapes on my cheek now. 
With my fingers finally grasping the brush, I flicked some paint into his hair, covering it in bright pinks, blues, and yellows. Our peals of laughter overpowered the music still playing in the room and eventually, after we both were covered in pain, I threw up my hands in surrender. 
“OK!” I chuckled breathlessly. “You win. You win.” 
Noah kissed me, smearing the paint over my lips. “Damn straight I do.” 
Somehow in the shuffle of our paint fight, I managed to straddle Noah, who lost his tank top; it was destroyed due to all the paint. So he lay shirtless underneath me and I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the sight of him with his arm propping his head up and his tattoos on full display for only me to devour. 
Reaching up towards my easel, I grabbed a few different paints and clean brushes before settling back on Noah’s hips, getting to work on painting the flowers of his chest piece. 
He hummed at the feeling of the cool brush and let his eyes flutter shut for a long moment, reveling in the feeling of me on top of him. And not in a sexual way but in a way of knowing that I was here and not going anywhere. 
“Am I an adult coloring book for you?” Noah questioned after he took a few Polaroid pictures of me painting him.
“Maybe,” I teased with a glance down at his face. 
His chest was a vibrant picture of greens, reds, and oranges. I was working on painting the headband in the girl's hair when he spoke again. 
“Well don’t stop, I like this form of meditation.”
Once the round frame was painted gold, I adjusted my position so I could sign my name just above the words across his sternum. 
Noah opened one eye and smiled. “I see you signed your work.”
“I did because you’re not it anymore.” I pressed a soft kiss along each letter. 
“I’m not what?” He breathed in pleasure, slightly arching off the ground. 
“You’re no longer desolate,” I promised into his skin then took a couple of Polaroid pictures of my masterpiece. 
Noah let out a soft noise from the back of his throat when his strong hand wrapped around the back of my neck to pull me down to his lips, we met in a fiery, air-bending kiss. Every single fiber of my soul blazed with such passion I melted into his embrace, folding into him as we became one. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, lapping up the strawberry chapstick I applied in the car earlier, him humming in delight. 
I adjusted myself as I lay flat on Noah, his hands running up and down the skin of my back underneath my shirt. The heat radiated off of him making my insides flare with so much desire that I was practically burning up at his touch. 
“Noah,” I whined when his lips began attacking my neck. 
When he pulled away, his almond eyes gazed up at me with pupils blown wide with lust; pure black over taking his eyes. 
“How about I run you a bath?” His thumb brushed along my bottom lip, voice hoarse from our kiss. 
“I’d like that a lot,” I beamed. 
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NOAH
I sat on the edge of the tub to check the temperature of the water making sure it was perfect before adding the bubbles and bath salts. As it began to fill up, I peered through the open bathroom door to gaze over at Y/N who was sitting at her vanity taking off her makeup. My heart swelled in my chest when I noticed how relaxed she was, as if she was meant to be there; here with me. 
Sitting here in observation, it struck me like a bolt of lightning. I’d been so lost in constructing scenarios for tonight that I was surprised to see how far I’d come. Y/N’s movements were so fluid, so serene as she gently wiped everything off her face and neck. I’d never been so jealous of a makeup towelette before. 
Observing her using the vanity table I fussed over for weeks made my stomach flutter, the ongoing moment of quiet bliss was by far my favorite way to let time tick by.
Waiting here offers me time to let my mind escape the boundaries of the ordinary. From where I sat here in the bathroom, watching her carefully with the faintest of smiles, I knew I wanted this view for the rest of my life. After all the bullshit endured on and off over the years, for both of us, this was what I got to see. 
Watching Y/N was such a gift, a blessing of time. Something I vowed right now that I wouldn’t take for granted.
Shaking off the excess water after checking the temp, I turned off the tub and walked into the bedroom with a light spring in my step. I snuck up behind Y/N and rested my chin on top of her head, watching her smile in the reflection of the mirror. 
“Your bath is ready, angel,” I informed. 
She reached for my left hand to lay a gentle kiss on the floral design. “You mean, our bath is ready.” 
I raised a brow at her when she stood and led me into the bathroom with her. 
“Wait, what?” 
Y/N chuckled at the slight confusion in my voice. “You heard me. You’re covered in paint too, Noah. You need to clean up.” 
I rubbed the back of my neck as we stood together in the bathroom. “I was-uh- going to take a shower once you were finished. I don’t want to pressure you into-.” 
“Stop overthinking this,” she cupped both sides of my face and pressed a kiss to my nose. “I want you to join me if you’re comfortable with it.” 
I may have nodded a little too eagerly but it didn't bother her. 
“I’d love that, angel.” 
While she shed her clothes, I stepped out of my pants and briefs, both of us watching each other with such inferno in our eyes and when we were naked, Y/N reached for my hand. She stepped into the tub first then me, positioning myself behind her. Even though it was a larger tub, it was still a snug fit for the both of us so to make sure she had enough room, I kept my long legs bent; my knees breaking the surface of the water. 
“Oh this is perfect,” Y/N groaned while leaning herself into my chest. 
Reaching for her shampoo, I went to work scrubbing the paint out of her hair, my nails scraping along her scalp. Her fingers traced over the rose tattoo on my knee, delicately following the design. 
“What’s on your mind, angel?” I questioned after rinsing out her hair and then applying the conditioner. 
“You’ve really thought about everything, huh? You have all of my products here so I don’t ever have to bring a bag over?” 
The giggle that erupted from her throat made something twinge inside of me. 
I kissed her shoulder. “I’ve already told you. This is your home just as much as your apartment is. We can bounce back and forth as long as you want.” 
Once she was completely clean of the dried paint, Y/N turned to position herself on my lap to face me. The head of my cock brushed along her folds and I grasped at her hips, trying not to let my hormones push her too far. 
“What are you doing?” I asked. 
She smiled and reached for my shampoo. “You washed me. Let me wash you now.” 
Sighing in content, I sat back against the tub to let Y/N wash my hair. Her fingers worked meticulously in scrubbing out the paint. 
“You know,” she shifted herself on me and I choked on a groan. 
Surely she had to know what she was doing. 
“While I love how you look with this new haircut. I really do miss your long hair.” 
I gazed up at her, tracing the drop of water that trailed down her neck, over the silver chain, and between the valley of her breasts that were just peeking above the bubbles. 
I licked my lips, tongue begging to trace the water in its wake, but refrained. 
“Imagine if you gave yourself bangs. You’d be in your Shelby era,” Y/N chucked while moving my hair in a certain way so I could have bangs. 
I glanced over to the mirror above the sink and smirked at the sight of us in the tub, especially me with bangs. 
“You think so?” I asked. 
“You can pull off any look, mochi.” 
She gently went about washing the paint off my chest with the loofah while I continued to watch her. 
“You’re staring,” her eyes flicked up at me. 
“I love you,” I brushed away the wet strands of hair from her face. 
“I love you too,” Y/N kissed the freckles on my shoulder. 
Once again we found ourselves in our previous position, her back to my chest, and we sat there for some time as the water began to chill. Although neither of us was ready to get out yet. 
“Noah?” 
Snapping my eyes open, I wrapped my arms around her. “Yeah?” 
Y/N shifted a bit in my embrace and with how she was wading her fingers through the water, I knew something heavy was on her mind. 
“Do you think we could listen to Bad Decisions?” 
My body stilled behind her. I knew at some point we would have to talk about the songs I wrote when I was in the dark parts of my life but it still didn't prepare me for the moment it happened. 
“Are you sure?” I asked. 
She turned slightly in my arms to leave an array of kisses on my chest. 
“I know you were in a dark place when you wrote it. It holds bad memories so I’d like to create new memories for this song with you if you want to.” 
“I’d want nothing more, Y/N,” I whispered into her hairline. 
After asking the Alexa device on the bathroom counter to play the song, I let my voice echo in the confines of the room. Y/N eased into my embrace as I linked our fingers together while I sang along with the words in a hushed tone. She hummed along with me as our bodies swayed together in the water. 
“No God. No religion. Just you,” I vowed when the song faded out, cupping her cheek so I could kiss her lips. 
Without missing a beat, Y/N returned the kiss just as slowly as I, our tongues lazily fighting for dominance as her hand snaked behind my neck to play with the wet strands of hair. 
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against my lips. 
Pulling away, I remained holding her face but furrowed my brows. “What are you apologizing for?”
Her gaze left mine. “I just hate that it took us so long to get here. I know we talked about everything at the party but I still feel the need to apologize for everything.” 
“It’s not all on you, angel. I did some things I wasn’t proud of during our time apart and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.” 
“Stop, Noah,” Y/N straddled me again to hold my chin with a stern grasp, the water sloshing around us. “You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. I’ve already told you all is forgiven. Please stop letting that moment of weakness eat away at you.” 
I blinked away the burning tears in my eyes and cleared my throat. “I only want to make better memories with you. I know in the beginning I couldn’t communicate, even now it’s a bit hard for me, especially with everything that happened. It was a mess and I apologize too.” 
Y/N bent low to kiss me; it was slow at first but soon became heavy with passion when her tongue slipped between my lips. Her hips began grinding against my cock revving me up with such force, I wrapped my hand around her neck with my thumb against the pulse point in her neck. 
Breaking free from the kiss, I dragged my teeth along her jawline and then down her neck. 
“Noah,” Y/N breathed. “I love you.” 
Her pussy was now brushing over the head of my cock and every inhibition with me wanted to plunge myself deep inside of her, feel her grip me with that vice grip I’ve missed and longed for.
Something inside of my chest rumbled before I realized it was my voice. 
“How many have you loved before me?” I rasped as my tongue brushed over her nipple. 
Y/N arched herself back so she could fully expose herself to me. “None.” 
With one hand holding her throat, my other slipped between our bodies underneath the now-freezing water to glide over the slit between her legs. I attacked her lips again with a ravenous desire, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“And after me?” I demanded to know, slipping a finger inside of her finally. 
“None,” she moaned while digging her nails into the skin of my shoulders. 
Trembling fingers trace Y/N’s skin. To be in her company is a little slice of heaven as if her aura were an elixir. Emotions swam in our eyes, in our body language, and the inflections of her voice. 
She was the one who I thought of when I needed to restart my heart and rekindle my soul; for so long I kept that to myself. Feeling the intensity of her intelligence, Y/N’s words were my medicine.
Deep inside I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve over-explained my feelings to compensate for what hadn’t been said. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t shake the fear of losing her. She needed to know where I stood, where we belonged. 
Soulmates. 
To be a possessor? I don’t know if you’d call it that. I yearned to be her protector, the one who held her heart in my hands, just as she held mine. These large hands are secured. I would grant her any wish in my power, to be the one who will always love her.
My fingers worked in sync as I pumped them in and out of her. She squirmed in my grasp, and the head of my cock nearly slipped inside of her. Every single part of me was sensitive to her touch and it felt like any moment I would combust underneath her. 
Peering up at her face, I noticed that there was worry pulling tight in her forehead. 
“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” I asked briefly, stopping. 
“No, you’re fine,” Y/N reassured me with a kiss on my forehead. “It’s just-.” 
When her words trailed off, I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Talk to me, angel.” 
Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “The water is really cold and I was hoping we could move this to the bed.” 
A playful smirk pulled on my lips and just before agreeing, I was struck with a thought. 
“How far do we want to take this?” 
“Noah, I can’t wait anymore. I need this. I need to feel connected to you again,” she rubbed herself against me. 
Shit. 
Even though I was ready for this, something was keeping me from lifting her out of this tub and tossing her on the bed to feel all of her again. The last time we slept together, it ended in disaster and heartbreak. I was stronger than I was back then but I don’t know if I could recover if it were to happen again. 
It won’t. 
It was as if Y/N’s soul could feel the pain in mine because she cupped both sides of my face so I had no choice but to meet her gaze. 
“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. I’m right here. Always.” She reassured me with a firm nod, not an ounce of lies behind her bright eyes. 
I kissed her palm. “I know. Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush.”
“You’re not, Noah. I want this. I need this. I need to be connected to you so deeply, that it feels like we’ll never be apart again.” 
Her hand wrapped around my cock, pumping it up and down under the chilled water. By now the bubbles have dissipated and I peered through the clear water to choke on my moan. 
“We won’t,” I promised. 
Y/N’s warm breath fanned over the shell of my ear. “Please, Noah. I need you to fuck me.” 
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READER
I erupted with laughter as Noah dropped my wet body on top of the bed. Resting up on my elbows, I gazed over his naked form as he stood at the foot of the bed. Water traced every bend and groove of his muscles and the tattoos that littered his skin were something that seemed to surprise me each time. 
When my gaze lowered to his cock, a starved moan fell from my lips and I licked them hungrily. 
“Y/N?” 
I hummed while tearing my gaze away from him to look into his eyes. 
“If you feel any pain, please let me know,” he said. 
“I’m okay,” I nodded. “I promise.” 
Noah towered over me as he crawled up the bed, droplets of water falling from his hair onto my chest. His chain hung just above my lips as I looked up at him, spreading my legs when his fingers tickled the inside of my thigh. 
“I want to make love to you tonight, angel. Will you let me?” He asked into the crook of my neck. 
“Please,” I nodded vigorously. 
Once more, Noah’s fingers slipped between my folds to gently tease me, slowly dragging them up and down. I whined in protest and dug my nails into his back, feeling his muscles tense from my touch. When the pad of his calloused finger pressed against my clit, I arched my chest into his, the itch I felt from the moment we were in the tub together finally being scratched. 
My knees buckled when his finger twirled in fast circles and when Noah flicked his tongue over my nipple, before slowly trailing down my stomach. The warm wetness of his tongue flicked over my nub when he replaced his fingers. His lips wrapped around my clit to suck up my arousal. 
“Noah,” I hissed. “So good.” 
I ran my fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to me as the coil in my stomach pulled tight. I’d been on edge all night, I knew I wouldn’t last long. And it was like Noah knew or understood because his tongue speared inside of me, in and out, before rubbing against my clit again. 
Stars danced at the edge of my vision, nearly overtaking my gaze when I looked down at Noah between my legs. His face was buried there as if he was meant to be there. I brushed away the hair from his face just for his eyes to meet mine, his tongue darting in and out of me. There was pure darkness in his eyes when his hand ran up my stomach and torso to grasp at the silver chain around my neck. He wrapped it around his fingers, pulling taunt, and I felt the breath leave my lungs briefly. Before I could say anything, Noah loosened the grip but still held onto the chain. 
I raised my hips off the bed to try and get closer to his mouth when his tongue began to slow, fearing that maybe he was getting tired. But I was so close that my body ached with the release it so desperately needed. 
With a tight hold against the back of his head, I tensed my legs and core when he flattened his tongue. Now I rubbed myself against his tongue and my moans echoed throughout the room. I couldn’t even warn him that I was about to cum because my orgasm washed over me without warning. Noah hummed in delight when my arousal coated his lips and chin; it dripped from him and he gathered it up with a finger before sucking it clean himself.
“Fuck,” I panted while running a hand through my hair. “That was-fuck.”
“Watching you cum is addicting, angel,” Noah buzzed with a tender kiss inside of my thigh. 
As my heart rate slowed, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and let out a deep breath in a way to center myself again. 
“Missionary hurts right?” Noah asked while leaning over me. 
“It depends,” I shrugged. “But if I’m being honest, it’s not my favorite.” 
The smirk that pulled on his lips made me tilt my head at him. However, before I could ask what he had in mind, he swiftly turned me to lay on my stomach and raised my ass in the air. 
“Noah,” I breathed while peering over my shoulder at him. 
Not saying anything, he leaned over towards the nightstand to rummage through it and retrieved a condom. Lust-filled eyes watched as he ripped it open with his teeth and swiftly rolled it over the length of his cock, which was thick and dripping with his arousal. 
“Stay on your knees but if you need to lay your lower half on the bed, do it. I want to make sure you're comfortable,” a gentle kiss in the middle of my back; against the snake tattooed there. 
I positioned a pillow underneath me to give myself some more leverage and comfort while Noah lined his cock up with my entrance. Slowly, much to my dismay, Noah sank himself inside of me inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of me. 
“Shit,” his forehead rested against my shoulder blade. “So tight. I’ve been dreaming of this feeling again, angel.” 
“Me too. Oh fuck.” 
I moaned when Noah pulled himself almost out, pumping just the head of his cock in between my folds. Then with a snap of his hips, his cock stretched me open again and the weight of his body pressed me farther into the pillow. His chest collided with my back every time he thrust into me and his nails dug into my hips to keep himself grounded. For extra measure, I managed to hook my feet around his ankles. 
“I love you,” Noah panted in my ear. 
My smile was buried in the pillow. “I love you too.” 
“Any pain?”
I did my best to shake my head. “Keep going. Please.” 
One hand caressed the grooves of my spine, up and down, while his other wandered around to thrum against my clit again. Noah’s pace was slow but steady, his words from earlier ringing true. 
I want to make love to you. 
I brushed away the hair from my face so I was able to see, noticing our reflection in the large mirror Noah had leaning against the wall next to the closet. A strangled moan crawled out of my throat when I saw the muscles in Noah’s ass clench with every drive into me. I could vividly see his cock every time he pulled out of me, my arousal glistening on the condom, before disappearing inside of me again. 
“I.” 
Thrust. 
“Love.” 
Thrust.
“You.” 
I mewled at Noah’s proclamation in between each of his thrusts. “I love you too, Noah.” 
The slow pace of his cock but the fast pace of his fingers worked in perfect harmony and I felt my second orgasm slowly creeping its way into my veins. The heat spread like wildfire inside of me with such intensity I began to shake underneath Noah. 
“I love you, angel,” he proclaimed again then bit down on the sensitive part of the skin at the back of my neck. 
I was gone, blissed out in sheer ecstasy that my words were muffled against the pillow. That wasn’t good enough for Noah so he turned my cheek so I could face him. 
“I love you too,” I huffed when my orgasm was seconds away from bursting. 
He linked our hands together as he continued to meld with me from behind and I noticed that the hands that were linked were the ones that both had our bracelets. It was almost a good omen, no pun intended, that our souls were always destined to be one. For added measure, I felt the coolness of his necklace brush along the heated skin of my back. 
Noah lightly laughed, almost as if he thought the same, and when his cock twitched inside of me, I realized he was close. I wanted to watch him when he fell apart because of me so I glanced back over to our reflection in the mirror. Then with two fingers pressed against my clit, Noah began rubbing up and down which was exactly what I needed for the coil to snap. To finally teeter over the edge where ecstasy was waiting for me. 
His name fell from my lips in prayer. 
“Fuck, Noah. Oh God, it’s so good,” I cried out through the rest of my orgasm. 
“No God. Just us,” he grunted. 
There was no God; only him and I. 
In the reflection, I watched as his movement stilled, cock throbbing between my walls, and his mouth fell open when he tilted his head back; groaning out his release. Then softly, Noah’s body fell onto mine and he buried his face in my neck. 
“Are you okay?” He wondered. 
“I’m good, mochi. So fucking good,” I lazily smiled but whimpered when he pulled out of me. 
“Let me get you a washcloth,” he left a kiss on my shoulder before slipping into the bathroom. 
I snuggled closer into the pillow on my chest to let my eyes rest for a moment. Exhaustion dug itself so deep within my bones that I didn’t even notice when Noah began cleaning me up with the damp but warm cloth then he draped the blanket over my naked form. 
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or noticed he left until the bed dipped beside me and I opened one eye to stare up at him. Noah kissed me from between my shoulder blades down my back, his nails grazing beyond the wake of his lips as he traced over the large snake tattoo on my back. 
“This sight is familiar,” Noah spoke quietly. 
I propped my chin on my hand. “But I’m not going anywhere after. I’m not leaving you to deal with my inconsiderate decisions. I’m right here with you, Noah.” 
“I know,” he nodded. “We’re creating new memories now. Righting all of those wrongs. I’ve been excited for both of us to leave the past and move forward.” 
“Me too,” I left a chaste kiss on his chin, feeling the slight stubble tickle my lips. 
Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear then began tracing the line of my cheekbone, and jaw, then booped my nose, earning a giggle from me. 
“I brought you some clothes in case you want to get dressed,” he said while handing me a pair of black joggers and a matching shirt. 
I took them with a smile. “I think I should start keeping some clothes here.” 
“Plenty of space in the closet,” Noah threw a thumb over his shoulder. 
My heart fluttered at his words, realizing yet again that Noah was allowing me to occupy parts of his private sanctions. 
“I’ll clear out two of my dresser drawers for your stuff the next time you’re over,” I promised with a kiss on his lips. 
He hummed while grasping the back of my head to keep me there for a second longer. 
“It’s a deal, angel.” 
Slipping out of the bed, I trotted into the bathroom to get dressed while I heard Noah open his bedroom door and rummaging in the kitchen. When I hopped back into his bed, Salem came bounding into the room with the bell on his collar jingling. 
“Hi baby,” I cooed when he jumped up on the bed. “So, what do you think of the cat tree dad bought you? You like it?” 
His response? Curling up on Noah’s pillow with a chirp of approval.
“I’m gone not even five minutes and he steals my spot,” Noah chuckled entering the room again; dressed in nothing but a pair of black Bad Omens joggers and bright yellow socks. 
“Get used to it. You invited him over and now what’s yours is his,” I scratched between Salem’s ears. 
“I’ll gladly share with him,” he said while handing me a plate. 
My eyes lit up as a gasp fell from my lips. “Is that limoncello tiramisù?”
“Yeah, I picked some up from that Italian bakery you love. Carlos’.” 
“Yes!” I exclaimed while quickly digging into the treat. 
As I leaned against the headboard to eat, Noah sat cross-legged in front of me to eat his share, both of us basking in the silence; beside Salem’s purring. 
“Are we a family now?” Noah asked. 
With a bright smile, I leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah. We are.”
I set both of our empty plates on the end table next to Noah’s bed then pulled my knees to my chest. 
“You know what I’d love right now?” I asked. 
Noah winked which caused me to playfully smack his chest. “Not that.” 
“OK, sorry. What would you love?” He chuckled while rubbing his chest. 
“I’d love to listen to The Grey. I’ve been dying to know how you worked in my poem ever since you sent me that video.” 
“Alexa, play The Grey by Bad Omens,” Noah said with a smile. 
“Now playing The Grey by the band Bad Omens.” 
When Noah’s voice finally broke through the music, I let out a small gasp. It was different, new, hearing this voice come from the man in front of me. It made me proud to see how far he’d come from Finding God Before God Finds Me, knowing what his work ethic was like. He was always trying to break down the typical stereotype of what rock should sound like. He wanted to make changes and from this song alone, Noah was doing that. 
Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all. Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough. Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.” 
My eyes lit up. “Oh, this was from the video!” 
Noah giggled. “Yep.” 
I continued to listen to the song when he linked our hands together, bringing them to his lips to leave a kiss on each of my fingers. 
“I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.” 
“Noah,” I beamed. “This is amazing. The lyrics, your voice, the beat. Everything about it.” 
A red hue crossed his cheeks as he sheepishly glanced down at his lap where our intertwined hands were. 
“Do you like it?” He gazed up at me through his long lashes. 
Rising to my knees, I now draped my arms around his neck and kissed his forehead, nose, both cheeks and then finally his lips. 
“I love it, Noah. And I love you.” 
He twirled my necklace between two of his fingers. “I love you too, Y/N.” 
For the first time since we rekindled our love, it was then that I noticed the tattoo on the side of his hand. 
K.E.A.T.O.N. 
When Noah realized I was reading the letters, he held up his other hand so I could read the letters on that hand. 
P.I.E.R.C.E. 
“Noah,” I breathed while putting his hands against my chest. 
“I needed to. He needs to know that he can sing his songs through me while he’s gone,” he explained with a lone tear slipping down his cheek. 
“I know.” I kissed his hands. “It’s okay.” 
Glancing over my shoulder, I took notice of the time and frowned. Earlier, Noah mentioned that tomorrow, well technically later today since it was already nearly two in the morning, Bad Omens were shooting the music video for The Death of Peace of Mind and he needed to be up early for it. 
In six hours. 
“I should probably get home,” I sighed. 
Noah’s hold against my hips tightened. “You can stay. I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me.” 
“You need your rest, mochi,” I patted his cheek. “I also have plans with Astrid to help her open up Fika then we’re going shopping right after.” 
Reluctantly with a sigh, Noah agreed and let me go, not before leaving a kiss on my forehead. 
“Salem is staying here tonight though,” he said. 
My jaw dropped as I stood from the bed and placed my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?” 
“Look at him,” Noah pointed to a sleeping Salem. “You can’t wake him.” 
“Fine,” I dragged out the word with narrowed eyes. “Tomorrow night. My place.” 
Noah towered over me when he stood to full length in front of me. “I’ll be there, angel.” 
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NOAH
Stuffing my hands deep into the pocket of my yellow hoodie, I let my black slides drag my feet behind Y/N as we walked closer to her apartment door. The chill midnight air breezed through the loose strands of hair but I was too far gone in my mind to brush it away. Even though we promised to see each other tomorrow, making plans for me to spend the night here tomorrow night, part of me was worried. Afraid that once we parted ways, Y/N would second guess everything that happened and ignore me for months on end. 
Why was I so nervous?
I kept asking myself that as we came to a stop in front of her door. I shook at the thought that what I was doing in all aspects of my life mattered. I felt the need to get it right; especially with Y/N. 
Dr. Poulos once said “Nerves are a signal of truth, of what you value, of what you need and cherish. The constant needs of what I’ve wanted, the comfort and stability I desired. That the idea of not gaining happiness brings on those telltale tremors. Always ask yourself what the nerves are telling you. It’s an important way your body speaks.” 
She wasn’t wrong. I knew in the back of my mind that I was terrified Y/N would never come back. 
What if  I wasn’t good for her?
I desperately needed to fight these demons and not let them win. 
Y/N loves me. She loves me.
“Mochi, you’re shaking.” 
Snapping out of my thoughts, I noticed that Y/N had wrapped her arms around my midsection to pull me closer to her. 
“Oh, I am? Didn’t notice,” I mumbled under my breath. 
“What’s wrong?” She questioned.
“Angel, let it go. It’s nothing.” 
Part of me wanted to remove her grasp from me; the part that was used to shrinking away from my problems. But the other part of me that wanted to be a good man for her made me cup the back of her neck instead.  
“Talk to me,” she quietly begged. 
However, I remained silent; the words weighed heavy on my tongue. 
“Noah-.”
“I don't want you to leave,” I blurted out. 
Y/N’s eyes softened. “Noah, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“No. I-I don’t know. I’m-.” I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and change your mind. I’m not perfect-.” 
“Stop,” Y/N shook her head. “Don’t even say that, Noah. You know I love you. Just like I know you love me. Nothing will ever change my mind, alright? We’re both right here. We need to remain here, focus on that.” 
I let out a broken breath and brushed my lips over her forehead, my hands going back to grasp behind her neck. “Please don’t leave, don’t leave me in the shape you found me.” 
“Never. I will never leave you like that again,” she buried her face into my chest, breathing me in. 
I rested my chin on top of her head. “I love you and I want this so bad, angel. I want you.”
“I love you, Noah. I’ll reassure you as many times as I have to,” Y/N turned her head up at me now. “But you have to trust that I won’t let you fall. I’m here with you. It’s you and me, okay?” 
I blinked while letting out a calming breath. “I didn’t mean to ruin the night with my worries.” 
She kissed the tip of my nose. “You didn’t. And don’t apologize for your feelings. I know what we’ve gone through has done a lot. But we’re moving past that, Noah. I’m proud of that and I’d like for you to start trusting me.”
“I do,” I promised her with a kiss. “I do trust you.” 
“Good,” she rose to her tiptoes to lay another kiss on my lips, this one deeper than the last but she pulled away before I could slip my tongue in. “Take care of our baby. I’ll see you two tomorrow night.” 
With a heart doubled in size and adoration in my eyes, I watched Y/N as she slinked inside her apartment, throwing a peace sign over her shoulder at me.
We’ll be okay. 
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NOAH
Grunting, I helped Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly maneuver the large board out of the truck and down the ramp to bring it inside the large warehouse where we had everything else almost set up. It was just before eleven a.m. and even with a second cup of coffee, the caffeine hadn’t seemed to take effect quite yet. After I dropped off Y/N at home last night, I returned to Salem, who was still curled up on my pillow when I left him, and as I lay next to him, my mind was plagued with negative thoughts I tried so hard to push away. It kept me up till almost four in the morning then four hours later, Jolly knocked on my bedroom door to wake me. 
As soon as we all arrived at the warehouse, I put on my best professional face and went to work going over the original plans with Orie, making sure we all were on the same page. This was our first music video in our new era so we wanted to make sure it was perfect. 
Now, as I stared up at the large board, pulling on the ends of my white shirt, I allowed my mind to wander to Y/N, wondering what she was up to right now. 
Did she like the paint idea? 
Was the sex good enough? It was great for me but I hoped there was no pain for her. She said there wasn’t. 
It sounded like she enjoyed it. 
Was I too vocal in my proclamations? 
No, I know I wasn’t. Y/N returned those proclamations every time. 
I ran an unsteady hand through my hair while letting out a long sigh, and staring down at my feet. 
My emotions were a part of me, and in this relationship, they blended with Y/N’s. Although, there are times I had these storms inside of me, never because of her, but from previous damage; the triggers from my past. I was certain things would be okay and this self-deprecation would pass. 
I desired Y/N’s presence like a madman gone awol. In those moments of a storm, I had to find my calm and center myself, typically by myself. But with Y/N, I didn’t have to do that. Like my music, she was my muse. 
“Noah?” 
Glancing over my shoulder, I gave a small smile to Nicholas. “Yea?” 
“Are you alright? You’ve been kind of quiet all morning,” he observed while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie. 
I eventually knew someone would notice my quiet demeanor. I’d only been humoring when it was dire to do so. 
Fuck, I missed Y/N. The negative thoughts monster has bitten his way through the bars.
I hated that this had come out of nowhere, sinking its teeth inside of me with no abandon. Our date last night was amazing but these fucking nerves kept trying to sabotage things once again. I did my best to not allow them to. 
I needed to stop worrying about last night, knowing I could change anything about what happened even though there was nothing that needed to change. Just like today, I needed to stop worrying about everything that could go wrong and focus on everything that would go right. 
“You know you can talk to me,” Nicholas’ voice snapped me from my thoughts. 
“I know,” I nodded curtly. “I’m fine. I just want things to go perfect today.” 
He reassured me with a squeeze to my shoulder. “It will. We’ve been planning the details for months.” 
I shifted all of my weight from one foot to the other, casting my gaze away from him and towards everyone who continued to work tirelessly. 
“You miss Y/N?” 
My eyes darted back over to Nicholas. “She texted me earlier after she helped Astrid open Fika. They’re going shopping before grabbing some late lunch. I was going to meet Y/N at her place with Salem once we were done here.” 
“So let that be the light to help you through today.” 
I scratched my chin and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” 
“Noah! Nicholas! The red lights on the masks aren't working!” Orie’s voice boomed in the vast space of the warehouse. 
Motioning Nicholas along, we spent the next handful of hours directing, watching, and redoing some scenes of the music video a few times over to make sure everything went off without a hitch; the perfectionist in me. We even stopped for a few-minute break so Orie could try and throw candy into Folio’s mouth while I peeked at the few unread messages from Y/N. 
Angel 🪽: I may have bought a few things I’d like to model for you later. If you’re up for it. 😉
A sudden burst of warmth spread to my cheeks, something that didn't go unnoticed by Orie, who snickered. 
“Oh, there’s only one person who can get you to smile like that.” 
My eyes pinned into him, a sharp look that said mind your own business. Stepping away from the group of them, I responded to Y/N’s message. 
Me: I’d never turn down a show from you, angel. Can I get a hint?
Angel 🪽: It’s red. And I’m very excited for you to take it off. 
Fuck. 
I adjusted myself with a cough and spent the next couple of minutes texting her with a bright smile. It was nearing nightfall which meant we were close to recording the next scene of the music video. 
Angel 🪽: Astrid has not stopped gushing about Jolly. It’s kind of cute though when she calls him Joakim. Did you know that she’s thinking of naming a drink after him at Fika? 
I snorted while glancing up at Jolly, who was busy texting away on his phone; most likely to Astrid. 
Me: I’d love to know the name of this drink. 
Angel 🪽: Älskling. It means honey. She’s thinking honey, Earl orange, and pomegranate tea. Because he’s “sweet like honey.” 
Angel 🪽: Noah Sebastian, don’t tell Jolly I told you because I know you can’t keep things like this to yourself. 
Feigning a hurt expression, I sent her a selfie and then typed out my response. 
Me: My lips are sealed. But I have to get back to work. Me and Salem should be at your place around ten. I’ll grab some food on the way. 
Angel 🪽: Burgers? 🥺
Angel 🪽: Also, you gave you the right to look so fucking good, huh? I can’t wait to kiss those lips. 
The way my heart jumped in my chest made it almost hard to breathe. 
Me: Whatever you want, angel. 
Angel 🪽: Just you. And burgers. I’ll always take a burger. 
Pocketing my phone, I rounded a finger towards everyone, my voice carrying throughout the space around me. 
“Alright! Let’s film this pool scene before it gets too cold for the girls.” 
Two hours later, it was nearing eight in the evening and all we had left to shoot was Bad Omens part of the video. We were in the home stretch and I was practically bouncing on the soles of my feet knowing that I’d be seeing Y/N in a few more hours. 
As the four of us were dressed in our outfits for the music video, I chatted quietly with Folio while fixing the collar of his jacket. He’d been busy on every break today either talking to his girlfriend or planning something. 
“How are things going with her?” I questioned. 
The smile that spread on his face made a faint one pull on mine, knowing that one of my best friends was happy. 
“Really good. I’d love to have you guys meet her soon.” 
I nodded. “Definitely.” 
Folio’s eyes peered over my shoulder, a smirk now pulling on his face and he wiggled his eyebrows. Before I could ask what he was staring at, that invisible string in my chest vibrated with such vigor, that it nearly knocked me off my feet. 
“Well, look at this group of handsome men!” 
Spinning on my heels, I saw Y/N and Astrid walk into the warehouse with bags of food from one of our favorite diners and both of them holding onto two trays of drinks. My heart ran amok in my chest as my stomach flipped three times over at seeing Y/N wearing the yellow hoodie I wore last night when I dropped her off. 
“I swung by your place to grab Salem and pack you an overnight bag so once you’re finished here, we can head straight to my place. And yes, I did steal your sweater,” she answered my thoughts. 
“Yellow is your color, angel,” I mused while slowly closing the distance to her. “You didn’t have to do all of this.” 
Astrid walked up to Jolly, who grabbed the things from her and laid a kiss on her lips; her laughter echoing around us. 
Y/N shrugged while I mimicked Jolly’s actions of taking the things from her hands. 
“We know how hard all of you are working today, it’s the least we could do.” 
Orie came up to grab the food and drinks from me before dispersing it to everyone. 
“Thank god you’re here, Y/N. Noah’s been really bossy today.” 
She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it out while narrowing her eyes at me. “Bossy, huh?” 
“He’s a tyrant,” Orie chuckled before taking a bite of his burger. 
I wrapped my arms around Y/N, breathing her in when I brushed my nose along her hairline. “You’re not going to turn her on your side, Orie. You’re wasting your time.” 
She raised her lips to meet mine and I hummed in delight when I tasted the milkshake she must have had on the way over here. Even though Y/N was here in my arms, I still couldn’t quiet the negative frame of mind that plagued me throughout the day. 
“I like this new look,” Y/N straightened out my jacket. 
All I could do was nod in response and her brows creased in worry. “Are you alright?” 
Linking our hands together, I pulled her through the warehouse to slip outside where I knew no one would be. We finished the pool scene a while ago and the extras had left for the night. 
“Oh, a pool? Are we going skinny dipping?” Y/N teased with a wink. 
I ran a hand through my already-styled hair, still not saying anything. My mind was a jumbled mess and I was afraid if I tried to speak, my words wouldn’t make sense. 
“Noah, what is going on? You’re worrying me.” 
Her warm hands cupped my cheeks so I had to look at her, those bright eyes pleading with worry. 
“Talk to me,” Y/N breathed. 
“Did you enjoy our date? Was it to your standards? Did I do alright with everything?” 
The questions blurted out like word vomit. 
“Of course I did, Noah!” Those eyes darted back and forth between mine. “I had a wonderful time. Did I do something to make you think otherwise?” 
I clutched her sides. “No, you didn’t! I promise. I know we talked about things last night. I wanted to make sure last night was everything you wanted.” 
“It was,” she adjusted the collar of my turtle neck. “I promise.”  
“I felt even closer to you than I ever have before. Especially when we had sex and I just wanted reassurance,” I sighed. ��That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“Mochi, I loved every second with you. I loved everything about it. I felt closer and more connected with you too. Stop fussing if I had a great time. I’d sit and watch ants crawl out of the ground if it meant I could be with you.”
Something flashed in my mind that brought a genuine smile to my face and washed away all of those worries. 
Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. "You'd sit and get a tattoo with me?"
I brushed away a loose strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear, fingers trailing against the skin of her neck.
"I'd sit and watch ants crawl out of a hole for hours if that meant I'm sitting next to you," I vowed with hooded eyes as I stared down at her lips.
I pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I take it we’re on for a second date then?” 
“I’m wide open,” Y/N winked with a kiss on my cheek. 
“Good,” I grinned. 
“Noah! We’re ready!” 
We both glanced over to the large opening of the warehouse to Nicholas who was waving us inside. 
“So, you’re staying the rest of the shoot?” I asked. 
Y/N beamed. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 
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READER
As I moved about my bedroom, tossing things into the suitcases that laid out on my bed, there was a delicate knock on my open door and Chase gave me a warm smile. 
“Malcolm and Noah are at the store right now and wondering if there’s anything else you need for this weekend,” he sat down on the edge of my bed. 
“No, just the list I gave them,” I said while zipping up my suitcase. 
“Are you nervous?” Chase asked, playing with Salem. 
“A bit, yeah,” I sighed while plopping down onto the bed next to him. “This is our first album as a three-piece. It’s completely different from our other albums so I’m afraid people won’t vibe with it.” 
Chase squeezed my knee. “They will. The reviews from the singles we already released are positive.” 
“I know. I’ve just been in my head a lot.” 
There was a slight hesitation in Chase’s breath before he asked his next question. 
“Have you talked to your parents at all?” 
My heart sank with guilt and I began chipping away at my nail polish. “It’s been a few days since I talked with my dad. With everything from trying to plan the album release party and Noah, I guess I kind of forgot to call him.” 
Chase wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. “Your dad understands how busy you are. He’d never hold it against you.” 
I snorted. “Unlike my mom. Part of me wants to call her and give her an update on my life. Because I do love her, regardless of all of her faults, but I’m just afraid that she’ll judge me; again.” 
“Do whatever your heart tells you, sweets. You never know, she might surprise you.” 
Both of us shared a knowing look before we burst out in a fit of laughter knowing the odds of that happening. 
“But stop worrying about the small stuff, Y/N. Ethan said the house is booked, the guest list was sent out, and the caterers are paid. Everything is set, all we have to do is show up and promote the album,” Chase said as Salem lay between us. 
When I nodded, he stood to his feet and placed a kiss on top of my head then slipped out of my room. Pausing packing for a moment, I reached for my phone that was charging on my nightstand and I let my finger hover over my mom's contact for a long moment, wondering if I really wanted to do this or if it was the guilt for not reaching out to her more. 
Pros: she could be happy for me and even want to show up at the party. 
Cons: she calls me a disappointment yet again and criticizes my choices. 
“Fuck it,” I groaned then clicked on her name. 
It rang twice before going straight to voicemail. I rolled my eyes, knowing that she ignored my call, but tried not to dwell on the way my stomach dropped. 
“Hey mom, it’s me. How have things been? I heard you went to Greece for a few weeks to visit family. I bet that was nice, I’d love to see some pictures. Maybe we could meet up for coffee to talk?” 
I ran my sweaty palms on my sweats before continuing. “I have some news. Hollow Souls new album releases this Saturday and we're throwing this party to celebrate it. I know you never were too keen on my career choice but it would mean a lot if you came. I’ll text you the details. S'agapó.” 
Ending the call by saying I loved her in Greek, I hit the red button with a disappointed sigh. I knew there was a higher chance she wouldn’t answer my call rather than actually answering it. Instead of dwelling on it, I texted my dad. 
Me: Can I call? 
His response came almost instantly. 
Dad: You never have to ask, sweetheart. 
With a smile, I decided to FaceTime him instead and broke out in a large smile when his face appeared on the screen. His hair had a bit more gray than the last time and a few more wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The glasses were practically falling off his nose but when he saw me, he pushed them up. 
“There she is! Oh, I’m loving the new hair!” He beamed. 
“Thanks Dad. I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while, life’s been kind of crazy,” I explained while leaning against the headboard. 
My dad waved me off as he spun around in his office chair, the large and filled bookcases now his backdrop. “It’s alright, sweetheart. How have things been?” 
We spent the next few minutes catching up when Noah entered my room, both hands full of bags. When I went to help him, he held up the bags higher so I couldn’t. With a playful glare at him, I turned my attention back to my dad while Noah went about emptying the bags. 
“So your mom didn’t answer?” 
Briefly ignoring the questioning glance from Noah, I shook my head at my dad. 
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s like she has this radar that goes off before I call to talk about my life. If it’s not about her, she doesn't care,” I pulled my knees up to my chest so Noah could sit down in front of me. 
My dad took off his glasses to rub his eyes before putting them back on his nose. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I wish she never took her own frustrations out on you. She’s unhappy with how things ended with the divorce and she can’t seem to heal from it.” 
Noah’s fingers grazed over the exposed skin of my ankle. 
“All these years later and I still try to make her proud of me,” I shrugged. 
“I know sweetheart. But sometimes, you have to think about yourself and make yourself proud before her. That’s what matters.” 
Noah’s hand brushed away the hair from my face and I smiled up at him. 
“Oh, whose hand is that?” My dad's questionable voice came from my phone. “Those are a lot of tattoos.” 
With a glance at Noah, he nodded so I shifted my position for my phone to not only show me but him as well.
“I wish I could introduce you two face to face but this will have to do. Dad, this is Noah.” 
Noah gave a small wave to the phone. “Hi, Mr. Y/L/N, it’s an honor to meet you.” 
“Shit, even your neck is covered! That had to hurt,” my dad chuckled while rubbing his own neck. “It’s an honor to meet you as well, Noah. My daughter has told me quite a lot about you. All good things, no need to worry.” 
My cheeks burned and Noah wrapped an arm around my side, pulling us closer. 
“You have a wonderful daughter. I want to assure you that I love her and will take great care of her,” he vowed. 
My father snorted while moving about his house now. “I knew it from the moment I saw that video of you two performing on stage together during your last tour that you loved Y/N. It was clear in the way you smiled at her.” 
“Dad,” I muttered under my breath. 
Noah, however, looked at me with deep affection in those almond eyes. “I think I knew it back then as well, it just took me longer to admit it.” 
“Call it father’s intuition,” my dad said. “But I have to go. I’m meeting some friends for ramen.” 
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I would kill for some Japanese ramen right now.” 
“Well,” my father started while slipping into his jacket one-handed. “Bring Noah the next time you visit and we can all go out for some. There’s this great place next to this shop that sells some kind of Manga drawings. I don’t understand it but the kids your age seem to love it.” 
“We’ll be there,” Noah promised with a kiss on the side of my head. 
“Have fun at the album release party, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hear the new songs!” 
We both waved at the screen before it went black, me hanging up the call. 
“Your dad seems like a great guy,” Noah noted while rolling off of my bed and trotting over to my dresser. 
He opened the top two drawers, rummaging around for some of his clothes. 
About two weeks ago, he slowly brought some of his things over here while I did the same at his place. We’d been bouncing back and forth between the two but with how busy I’d been planning the album release party and all the finishing touches for the album, it’d been a few days since Noah and I spent the night together. So now that we were leaving tomorrow for the weekend, he decided to spend the night at my place so we could ride up to Big Bear with Chase and Malcolm. 
“He is,” I rested my chin on my knees. “I really hope one day we can visit him together.” 
“We will.”
Noah promised with a kiss on my head before retreating out of my room so he could shower while I finished packing all of our things, the excitement of this weekend making me dance around my bedroom. 
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READER
My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I typed away on my phone, the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the party falling away from me. 
The Power Puff Girls group chat:
Me: You guys on your way back? 
Astrid: Had to stop at the store quickly! Matt texted Jolly to grab some Dr. Pepper.  We picked up Maxxine about thirty minutes ago but would have been back at the house by now if Jolly wasn’t taking FOREVER in the book section. He’s trying to find some kind of new fantasy book to read this weekend. 
Maxxine: It’s kind of cute watching the two of you giggle with your own inside jokes while I just stand here as a third wheel. 
I let out my own chuckle as I stopped in front of the large mirror in the rental house, brushing away any lint from my white dress. The sleeves were lace and stopped right at my elbows and the bottom of my dress rested mid-thigh. I was afraid that the front may have been too low cut but Noah reassured me it was fine. 
With an array of kisses between my breasts. 
My phone vibrated in my hand and I read the new message. 
Astrid: Oh hush you. 
Me: Well, we’re very excited for you to join us, Maxxine. Bring some more females into this group of male hormones. I’d been dying to introduce you to someone! 
Maxxine: No, Y/N. Please. My last date was so horrendous, I still haven’t recovered. 
“Angel?” 
Glancing away from my phone, I smiled at Noah as he came bounding down the stairs dressed in a black long-sleeve and almost eggshell white pants. I licked my lips at the sight of him dressed up. It wasn’t anything fancy but it still made my heart flutter. 
“Have you seen my shoes? The black-.” 
“The black lace-ups,” I nodded. “Yes, they’re in the closet in our room. Next to my house shoes.” 
He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Thank you.” 
As Noah retreated upstairs again, I turned back down to my phone. 
Astrid: We promise, this guy is different! 
Maxxine: I don’t know. I think I should just be single for a while. My luck with men hasn’t been the greatest. I always chose losers. 
Me: Please, you’ll be thanking us for setting you up with him. 
Setting my phone on the kitchen counter, I peered over to Jesse, who was setting up the drinks and snacks at the dining room table. Noah mentioned to me the other night how Jesse had been feeling quite down a lot lately due to his anxiety and had been falling into himself, closing himself off from everyone. While Jesse wouldn’t admit it, we all had an inkling feeling that seeing some of his best friends get into relationships, made him doubt himself in finding someone. We also knew how hard of a time he had in Pittsburg when Erra was there touring a few months ago, so Astrid and I decided to set him up with a mutual friend of ours and I invited her to the party tonight. 
“Hey,” I slinked up beside Jesse and bumped my shoulder with his. 
“Hi,” he smiled. “You look beautiful. Excited for tonight?” 
“Thank you! I am. But I just wanted to let you know that there’s someone I want you to meet tonight.” 
He set down the cups and raised a brow. “Why me?” 
“Oh, no reason,” I shrugged before patting his chest and walking away. 
“Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean!”
Giggling, I met up with Chase and Malcolm in the main living area of the house. Chase was brushing away Maclolm’s long auburn locks and I smiled at the two of them. I knew they were nervous about being open about their relationship in the beginning but now they were blossoming together and I couldn’t have been happier for them. 
“How are we feeling?” I asked them to check-in. 
Malcolm ran a hand down the front of his black dress shirt. “Nervous as hell.” 
Chase rubbed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, love. The support already has been incredible. It’s only going to get better.” 
I wrapped my arms around both of them. “In case this album flops, I want you guys to know that I’m glad we took this chance. I love what we created.” 
“It’s not going to flop,” Chase rolled his bright blue eyes but returned the hug. “Love you two, idiots.” 
I pulled away from them and turned towards the front door when it opened, smiling at Astrid, Jolly, and Maxxine who walked inside. My eyes darted from Maxxine to Jesse, who froze in the middle of his tracks. He took in the sight of her; long legs, olive skin, long black hair, and bright hazel eyes. 
Maxxine, who had her arms full of bags, gave a slow once over of Jesse with a blush and faint smile. 
“Hi,” he cleared his throat. “Let me help you.” 
“Thank you,” she allowed Jesse to take a couple of bags from her. 
Astrid and I shared a proud smile. 
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” 
Noah’s deep voice sang in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, a kiss to the side of my neck. Turning in his embrace, I pecked his lips. 
“Hm, once or twice,” I wrapped my arms behind his neck. 
With the soft tune of music playing in the background, our bodies began to sway lightly. When his eyes fell behind me, his brows furrowed together. 
“Who’s the girl with Jesse?” 
I turned slightly in his embrace to see Jesse and Maxxine laughing about something with each other. She was lightly touching his arm and the smile on his face was one that you couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard you tried. 
“Oh, that’s a friend of mine and Astrid’s. Her name is Maxxine. I thought that maybe she and Jesse would hit it off,” I explained. 
Noah’s lips left feather-like kisses along my forehead. “I love you.” 
I grasped the front of his shirt, engulfing myself in his scent. 
“I love you too. But before the party starts, I want to show you something.” 
Linking our hands together, we slipped away from the group and down the hall of the rental home to the office where I already had things set up. I closed the door behind us and motioned for Noah to sit on the long sofa while I sat on the recliner chair diagonal from him. On the table was a pair of wireless headphones that were already hooked up to my phone. 
“What’s this?” Noah wondered after falling onto the couch. 
I handed him the headphones. “I know you’ll hear this song later but I wanted you to hear it for the first time with just the two of us. It’s an important song and it means a lot.” 
My heart was drumming inside of the confines of my chest making it hard to breathe. I finished recording this song months ago and besides me, Chase, and Malcolm no one else heard it. I wanted Noah to be the first. 
Once he placed the headphones over his ears, I loaded up the song on my phone and hit play. Even though I couldn’t hear the song physically, I could hear it in my mind. 
I know it's warmer where you are and it's safer by your side. But right now I can't be what you want. Just give it time.
Noah’s shoulders went stiff as he flicked his eyes up at me, steepling his fingers together in his lap. I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue. 
And if you and I can make it through the night. And if you and I can keep our love alive, we'll fight. 
Now nothing gave way on his face as he stared down at his hands, the only movement was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. 
We can meet in the middle. Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh. 
I couldn’t bear being so far from him while not knowing how he was feeling so I rose from my chair to sit on the other end of the couch next to him. 
Well, it's cold when we're apart and I hate to feel this die. But you can't give me what I want. Just give it time
Noah’s eyes fluttered shut and I swore I saw all the oxygen leave his lungs, telling me I knew what part of my lyrics he just heard. 
But for now we stay so far. 'Til our lonely limbs connect. I can't keep you in these arms. So I'll keep you in my mind.
My bottom lip caught between my teeth as my knee bounced with anticipation, wanting desperately to know what he thought about my song. But I didn’t want to disturb him yet. 
Can we meet in the middle? Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight. Where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh.
Glancing at my phone, I realized the song ended, but Noah made no effort to take off the headphones. My lips parted to speak when I noticed a lone tear roll down his cheek. 
“Noah?” I tapped his arm. 
With the heat of my touch, it was as if he came alive again. Ripping off the headphones, Noah’s lips attacked mine with an inferno, making me fall back onto the couch with him on top of me. My fingers quickly found their usual place in his hair while he hooked my leg around his hips. 
“Angel,” he fanned in the crook of my neck. 
“Did-did you like it?” I asked. 
Noah’s tongue brushed along the pulsepoint of my neck and I shivered underneath him. 
“I loved it,” he breathed as his teeth scraped up along my jawline before slipping his tongue into my mouth. 
We had a short fight for dominance before reluctantly I let Noah win, his hands running up and down my bare thighs. When he pulled away, I was dizzy; kiss drunk. And his eyes burned as he looked down at me. 
“Are you sure?” I questioned, still filled with worry he didn’t like it. 
“Y/N,” he lifted my chin with the finger that had the small heart tattooed on it. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It was perfect.”
“Thank you,” I wrapped my legs around him to bring his body closer to mine, moaning when I felt the outline of his cock brush along my heated core. 
His forehead fell onto my chest and sighed. “Do we have to go out there? Can we stay here the two of us? In our bubble.” 
I lifted his head to kiss his nose. “Unfortunately, this party is partly for me so I have to show up.” 
Grudgingly, Noah untangled himself from me and then helped me to my feet, fixing my dress and hair for me. 
With our fingers linked together, he led me back into the main part of the house where the party was already well underway. 
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THIRD PERSON POV
The crowd of people kept congratulating the members of Hollow Souls for an amazing album. Everyone loved the new songs and was excited about the new direction they were headed toward. Chase and Malcolm chatted with one of the reps from the record label while Y/N was talking with someone she didn’t expect to see there. 
“I can’t believe you flew all the way to Los Angeles from Vermont for this! You didn’t have to,” she smiled while wrapping her arms around the man in a hug. 
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Y/N,” Joe shrugged. “Where’s Noah?” 
“Um, last I saw he was talking with his friend Bryan.” 
She glanced around the room but broke out in a large smile when Noah slinked up beside her and left a kiss on her cheek. 
“There you are. I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Joe,” Y/N pointed between the two men. 
Noah extended a hand. “Nice to officially meet you.” 
“Yeah you too,” Joe shook his hand with a smile. 
The three of them chatted for a long while after moving to one of the couches in the living room,  Y/N watching with fondness as her boyfriend and one of her good friends got along pretty well. She even stole a glance over towards Jesse and Maxxine who were seated on the couch across from them. His arm was thrown over the top of the couch, fingers grazing over the skin of Maxxine’s shoulder. Every so often she would slink in closer towards him. 
“Would you like a drink, angel?” Noah asked. 
Her eyes snapped back to him and she nodded. “Dr. Pepper, please.” 
Once Noah stood from the couch, Y/N opened her mouth to ask Joe how life was going when someone else sat down on the couch next to her, almost in Noah’s previous spot. 
Devon? Derrick? No, his name was Dennis; a mutual acquaintance of Ethan, their manager. 
“Hey, Y/N. I thought I’d sneak in to tell you how awesome the new album sounds,” he slicked back his overly gelled hair. 
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” 
While she knew of him from things Ethan would say, Y/N never actually met him. 
“I love the new vibe you guys have going on. It’s very different from your old albums. Although, I must say that my favorite is still your self-entitled. Trey’s vocals kick ass on that.” 
Joe sat up straighter from his spot on the other side of Y/N while she narrowed her eyes at Dennis. 
“Everyone has their own opinions I suppose,” she said while trying to pull down the ends of her dress when she caught Dennis staring at her legs. 
“You know,” he licked his lips and moved closer to Y/N. “You’re doing really well without Trey. How about we go out for a drink?” 
“No thank you, I’m not interested.” 
Y/N slinked back closer to Joe, who gladly accepted it.
“One drink?” Dennis tried again with a sly smirk. 
“I don’t drink,” Y/N narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest, hoping to show the guy that she was finished with this conversation. 
Joe sent a look over to Malcolm, who was standing in the kitchen next to Noah, and with that shared expression, the redhead nodded. 
“Noah,” Malcolm motioned behind Noah. 
With a perplexed look, Noah turned around and nearly crushed the glass in his hand at what he saw. Y/N was almost in Joe’s lap, trying to get away from some douchebag who kept advancing towards her. 
“What the fuck,” he grumbled under his breath, nostrils flaring. 
Tonight was not the night to lose his cool but he could feel that ugly feeling burning low in his gut; the feeling he despised. He didn’t want to come off as jealous or that he couldn’t trust Y/N because he could. But Noah did not like the way this guy was almost undressing her with his eyes. 
Joe wanted to intervene but also knew that Y/N had it handled; something she’d proven before. 
She glanced around the room with panic in her eyes until they fell on Noah, utter relief filling them. The guy followed her gaze and scoffed when he realized what she Y/N was looking at. 
Noah’s blood ran cold as his heart was thumping loudly in his ears, everything becoming white noise to him. His fingers shook at his sides, doing his best to remain calm. 
“Who is that guy?” He asked Malcolm. 
“Dennis. Ethan’s assistant.”
Matt, who had snuck up beside Noah, urged him with a look. 
“This asshole just asked Y/N to go outside with him for more privacy.” 
Fire burned in Noah’s eyes as he snapped them back over to the couch, where he nearly choked at the sight in front of him. Dennis was dragging his fingers down Y/N’s neck with intimacy that was reserved for Noah only. That was his spot. Y/N was his, it was proven tonight when she played her song for him. 
His insides burned with rage that it nearly made him unable to see anything in front of him. 
The sound of Y/N’s hand smacking Dennis’ hand away broke through the haze in Noah’s vision. 
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed. 
Joe quickly pulled Y/N up from the couch just as Noah pushed himself off the edge of the counter and made his way through the crowd over towards his girlfriend; hands shaking with more vigor now. It would be so easy to punch Dennis and show him who Y/N belongs to, however, Noah wouldn’t create a scene tonight; not when this night meant so much to Hollow Souls. 
With three deep breaths, Noah came to a halt in front of Y/N who quickly found solace underneath his arm.
“Everything alright?” He wondered. 
Y/N, albeit with the annoyed look in her usual bright eyes, wore a faux smile. “Yeah, now it is.” 
“I think you were just leaving, no?” Joe asked Dennis. 
The man shook his head while slowly rising to his feet. “No, actually I wasn’t. I heard that Y/N is single so I thought to shoot my shot.” 
Noah’s body vibrated with anger so Y/N rested a hand on his chest, her touch immediately calming him. 
“I’d like to know where you heard that,” Noah spoke slowly, even though he was on edge. 
“Does it matter?” Dennis harshly laughed. “All I’m saying is that she looks sexy as fuck tonight. I thought we could sneak away for a bit but it seems like she’s too far up your ass to even notice there are other guys here.” 
“I already said no,” Y/N’s voice was stern. 
Noah’s eyes sliced Dennis in half but remained calm; an eerie calm that seemed to have the gathering crowd of their friends on edge. His arm was still around her, claiming Y/N as his own but for added measure he left a kiss on the side of her head. 
Dennis raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, I get it. It’s fine, from what I hear from Trey, you can’t be satisfied anyway.” 
Chase appeared almost out of nowhere and grabbed him by the collar of his green polo. “Time for you to go. Now.” 
“Chase, please. No fighting,” Y/N begged still in Noah’s embrace. 
His usual bright blue eyes were dark, a deep hue of midnight, while he glared at Dennis. 
“I promise, no fighting,” Chase gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’m only going to show this asshole the way out.” 
Noah and Dennis shared one final glance, victory dancing on the former's lips before he whispered in Y/N’s ear. 
“Upstairs. Now.” 
Her eyes sparkled when she gazed up at him with a mischievous smirk. The both of them slipped away almost unnoticed by everyone, running up the stairs two at a time with Noah smacking her ass, her giggles echoing far behind them. 
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READER
As soon as we were in the confines of our bedroom in the rental house, Noah lifted me in the air to press my back against the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist while his hands gripped my thighs. There was a dire need of want in his eyes as he crashed his lips to mine in such a frenzied, hungry kiss, that it made me see stars from the force of it. His teeth grazed over my tongue and then my lips, drawing the teeniest bit of blood. 
“Fuck, Noah!” I exclaimed while dotting a finger to my lip. 
Growling, he began biting my neck, licking away Dennis’ touch. “I don’t know who the fuck he thinks he is. No one will ever fucking talk to you like that or touch what’s mine.”
“Oh god, yes,” I hissed, running my hands through his hair when he sucked on my sweet spot.
Somehow Noah managed to yank off my panties in our position and stuffed them deep into his pocket. One lone finger slipped between us when he pinned me to the door again and started rubbing fast circles on my clit. 
“Shit. Fuck. So good,” I crowed while pulling on the ends of his hair. 
Once I was wet enough, Noah quickly pulled out his cock, rubbing a fist over it for a few pumps before slipping in between my folds with a hard snap of his hips that we rattled against the door. I felt so full, so stretched open, that I gasped; not realizing at first that Noah forgot to put on a condom. 
“I want that motherfucker to hear who you belong to, angel,” he grunted with each thrust, nails digging into the skin of my bare ass to keep me grounded against him. 
“Fuck, god. So good,” I panted while scratching at his shoulders. “Right there.” 
We both were grunting so loudly and with the banging of the door, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that everyone could hear us downstairs. But none of them mattered. 
Only Noah and I did. 
His lips attacked mine once again, teeth smacking and tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths. 
“Say my name, I want him and any other man who thinks they have a shot, to hear who you belong to,” Noah bit down hard on my neck, his thrusts were fast and relentless. 
“NOAH!” I screamed when his finger pressed against my clit again, being exactly what I needed to come apart on his cock. 
My body writhed in his tight hold on me and with the force of his hands on my ass, I knew that I would have bruises in the morning but I didn’t fucking care. 
“You’re mine.” He grunted while craning my neck back by my hair. 
Noah went back to working on the raised red mark on my neck, right alongside the other bite marks he left before. 
“Yes, I am,” I rasped, gone in ecstasy. 
“Forever angel,” Noah’s hips stilled before pulling himself completely out of me. “Fucking say it.” 
“I’m yours forever, Noah!” I proclaimed with a feverish nod. 
“You’re mine, angel,” he gruffed while now wrapping his hand around his cock. 
It was thick and red, almost angry from being denied release. 
“It felt too good and I didn’t want to risk it,” he sighed while letting me fall to my feet. 
I kissed his lips, this time more gentle than our previous kisses. “Cum on my chest.” 
Noah’s movements around his cock faltered for a moment, pupils dilating to pure black. 
“What?” 
Dropping to my knees, I pulled down the front of my dress to expose my bare chest to him and peered up at him through my lashes. 
“I want you to mark me, Noah. Mark what’s yours,” I begged. 
“Shit, Y/N,” he mused while running one hand through my hair, dragging his fingers down my neck over my chest to pull and pinch my nipples. 
His grip around his cock was tight, knuckles turning white as he moved his hand up and down with such a velocious pace, it almost made it hard to focus on it. I licked my lips when I spotted the precum Noah used to spread over the head of his cock and I whined with the desire to taste him. 
The hand he had wrapped around the back of my neck to keep me in place tightened its grip as he bent over me, resting his forehead against the door. Noah was still dressed but I could only imagine that the muscles in his stomach were taut, his release so close. 
“Cum for me, Noah. Please,” I begged with a whiny breath. 
“Fucking hell,” he howled my name when his warm release shot all over my neck and down between my breasts. 
I hummed in pleasure, seeing the white stickiness run down my stomach, reveling in the feeling of his mark all over me. Noah stared down at me through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with each deep breath. 
“I didn’t think,” he took a deep breath while licking his lips. “I didn’t think that would be so hot.” 
Allow him to help me to my feet, I couldn’t wipe the smirk from my face. “I did, why do you think I asked for it?” 
Noah’s eyes flashed as he bent low to capture my lips in a kiss. “Am I going to keep finding out your secret kinks, angel?” 
“I think so since you discovered two of them already,” I dragged a finger down his cheek. 
“You like possessive sex? I feel terrible for throwing you against the door,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. 
I shrugged. “It’s not so much the possessive side of it but more so the dominant side of you.” 
He lifted my hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on my palm. “Do you want to head back downstairs?” 
“No, I’m exhausted and need a shower,” I giggled while motioning to my chest. 
Even though his cheeks reddened, the look that crossed his face as he looked me over made my core clench. 
“Get cleaned up and I’ll sneak downstairs to grab us some snacks,” Noah patted my ass, dismissing me towards the bathroom connected to our bedroom. 
“Think Folio will share those chocolate-covered pretzels he brought?” I wondered. 
Noah chuckled while stuffing his cock back into his pants before zipping them. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” 
Right before he slipped through the door, I chastised him when I noticed the large red mark on my neck.
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ASTRID
“Okay, I think they’re finally finished,” I chuckled while walking into the bedroom I was sharing with Jolly. “The door stopped rattling awhile ago and when I walked past their bedroom, I heard one of them snoring.” 
Jolly peered up from strumming a few notes on the guitar in his lap and smiled at me. 
“It’s most likely, Noah. Do you know he wears those nose strips?” 
“No way!” I gasped while pulling down the sleeves of his sweater I was wearing, moving about the room to finish getting ready for bed. 
It was his black Bad Omens hoodie, with the hand and gun on the front.
“Yeah, try sleeping in a moving sweatbox and hearing that. I sometimes worry he’ll inhale the bus curtains. That’s Y/N’s problem now,” he chuckled while reaching for me and pulling me to the bed with him. 
I broke out in a fit of giggles when he placed me in his lap and then rested the guitar in mine. He set my fingers in the position they needed to before helping me strum a few notes. 
He placed a kiss on my shoulder. “I’m glad you were able to leave Fika for the weekend to be here with me.” 
I turned my head towards him and kissed his lips. “Jessica can handle it. I need to start loosening the reins a bit and enjoy things more.” 
Jolly’s eyes glinted as he set the guitar down on the floor before lying me back down on the bed, lifting my end of the sweater to reveal all I was wearing underneath was a pair of black underwear. 
“You walked around like this?” His voice rumbled deep within his chest. 
I innocently shrugged. “I didn’t run into anyone. Besides, I’m practically swimming in your sweater. No one would have seen anything.” 
Hooking my underwear with his fingers, Jolly practically ripped them down my legs before flipping me onto my stomach. 
“Keep the sweater on, käraste,” he demanded while spreading my legs wide. 
“Fuck, yes,” I nodded while burying my face into the pillow, hearing Jolly’s belt buckle fall to the floor. 
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NOAH
Jolly and I moved around the large kitchen, almost with ease like we’d done this countless times before as we made breakfast for everyone. It was our last day up in Big Bear and we had a full day of activities planned. 
Breakfast, a mountain hike, lunch at a diner in town, and Y/N wanted to steal me away for a few hours to go horseback riding. 
The large table was filled with everyone and I had to stop for a moment to appreciate everyone here who came out to support Hollow Souls. They didn’t need to but they did because Y/N, Chase, and Malcolm became part of our family with that tour that seemed so long ago now. 
“Noah, can you hand me the eggs?” 
Snapping my gaze away from everyone, I turned towards Jolly and handed him the carton of eggs. 
“So,” I smirked while pouring more pancake mix onto the sizzling griddle. “I heard you had a great night last night. I walked past your room to come down to the kitchen for a drink and heard you grunting something in Swedish. What was it?” 
He froze, mixing the eggs in the large bowl for a moment before scoffing. “Like you’re one to talk. We all heard you guys last night. The door wouldn’t stop rattling, shaking the walls.” 
My face was beet red and I adjusted the collar of my sweater to ease it away from my neck. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” 
“I’m surprised you even heard anything over your snoring,” Jolly shrugged with a sly smirk. “I told Astrid you use nose strips.” 
I dropped the spatula, it clattering to the counter and gasped. “You did not!” 
A sudden movement from the stairs caught both of our attention, our heads snapping to the forms of Jesse and Maxxine walking down, her wearing one of his shirts. With a shared look, Jolly and I scurried over to our girlfriends, me pulling on Y/N’s shirt while she poured herself a cup of coffee. 
“Mochi,” she smacked my hand away. “Not now. I’m hungry and need caffeine. Sex in the shower took a lot out of me this morning.” 
“Angel,” I reached for her again. 
“I’m serious,” she held a stern gaze over the rim of her cup as she looked at me. “I need a break.” 
Rolling my eyes, I turned her around just in time for her to see Jesse hold out the chair for Maxxine, who blushed up at him in thanks. 
“No fucking way!” Y/N sputtered into her cup and then looked back at me. “She stayed the night with him?” 
I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in the peach scent of her body wash, and smiled. “Look at you, little matchmaker.” 
We shared a kiss before I motioned for her to sit down at the table so I could bring her a plate of food. 
Everyone went about the kitchen, filling up their own plates while I sat down next to Y/N, handing her the plate. Once everyone was seated, Malcolm took a long pull of his coffee before setting it down on the dark oak of the table. 
“So, who do you think was louder last night? Jolly or Noah?” 
The noise of my fork falling on my plate rang loudly in all of our ears while Jolly nearly choked on his scrambled eggs. Both of us slowly sank into our seats while Astrid and Y/N shared a look across the table, stifling a fit of giggles behind their hands. 
Noticing the way our faces reddened, Folio spoke up to change the subject. “Did anyone enjoy seeing the snow dogs? Michelle and I had a great time when we were here last time.”
“Oh that’s right,” Davis nodded. “You guys were here for Valentine's Day, right?” 
While their conversation fell on deaf ears, I felt my heart stutter in my chest and glanced over to Y/N, who was having her own conversation with Michael who sat next to her. The realization hit me with such force, that I had to lean farther back into my chair. 
Even though it was well into March, we never spent Valentine's Day together, and honestly, that wasn’t something that sat well with me. My heart yearned to make up for all the times we missed during our time apart and for the rest of breakfast, I made those plans in my mind. 
“Were we really that loud last night?” 
Y/N asked me at the same time Astrid asked Jolly and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me with a chuckle, brushing my lips against her ear. 
“Want to see if we can get even louder before we leave?” I nibbled on her ear lobe. 
276 notes · View notes
latenightdaydreams · 1 month
Text
König x Disabled!Reader Head Canons
For the physically disabled lovelies 💗
Part 2
Completely gender neutral. All fluff🩷
Not all physical disabilities covered, if interested I can make a part 2.
At first König treats you like a delicate little flower
Slowly understanding that he needs to stand back and wait for you to ask for help
He goes out of his way to learn about your disability and ways to support you
If you have gastric issues
He will prep meals you can eat and buys snacks that are safe for you
Makes you home made broths instead of the box or cans
Only the best for his Schatz
In his free time, he sits down and organizes your pills for you so you don’t have to worry
Organizes your braces to be easily accessible for you
Sees a cool cane on Etsy, buys it for you
König drives you to every doctor appointment, no matter how minor
He will go in and sit with you
König is your biggest advocator
He will speak up for you when you feel you can’t
Makes sure you get the best care
THAT YOU DESERVE
Keeps an extra asthma inhaler with him at all times
If your condition requires physical therapy
He learns what stretches or exercises your PT requires for you
Always encourages you and tells you how well you’re doing
"mein Schatz, you put the soldiers I train to shame." *head kisses*
(Even though all you did were 2 sets of donkey kicks and some clams)
Chronic pain?
He learns pain maintenance at home
Königs large strong hands gently massaging sore points of your body
Win-win for him because he loves to see you better and loves to touch you
“Don’t push yourself Schatz, what can I do for you?”
Always has extra pain patches, cream, and even CBD gummies on hand for you
“Heat or ice?”
Bed is covered in pillows for any support you’ll need
Stairs your biggest enemy?
König can carry you
And your wheelchair/walker/rollator
All the uppies
Does routine maintenance on your wheelchair for you
You sit there worried you aren’t good enough for König
All the while
König sits there wondering how he got so lucky to deserve you
168 notes · View notes
epicbuddieficrecs · 4 months
Text
Weekly Recap | December 25th-31st 2023
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Happy New Year everyone! May 2024 be better than 2023, and may season 7 be good to us!!!
Complete
Battle Born by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (NHL AU, Established Buddie | 11K | Teen): Buck comes down with appendicitis during the playoffs. He decides to play through it.
🔥 through tooth and claw (to where you are) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Post-S6, Hurt Buck, Getting Together | 18K | Teen): With a reverent hush, Christopher said, “Whoa, it’s so close.” And it was almost as though Buck needed to have that obvious fact pointed out to him before the vague dread of animal instinct that had been pooling in his stomach could solidify into a real, actionable fear. It’s so close. Something’s wrong. AKA: The Rabid Coyote fic
we’ve got something permanent (i mean in the way we care) by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (PWP, Breeding Kink | 7K | Explicit): Buck has baby fever and it’s Eddie’s job to give him what he wants. Kind of.
Here Where We Should Be (Kiss Me, It’s Christmas) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Christmas, Getting Together | 5K | General): It’s Christmas and Eddie decides he can’t possibly wait any longer to start kissing Buck.
well, I hate to be a bother, but it's you and there's no other by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure (Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Eddie starts dating again and learns a few things about himself. The most surprising one? He's actually ready this time. Now he just needs to get Buck on board.
in a little while (you will find some relief then) by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure (Hurt Buck | 10K | Teen): Buck gets a severe case of poison oak. He handles it about as well as you'd expect.
🔥 The Nearness of You by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Work Trip | 17K | Teen): Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it.
We Can't Succeed but We Love Trying by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (PWP, Breeding Kink | 15K | Explicit): In which Eddie has the thought that if Buck's gonna "donate" his sperm anywhere, it should be with, well. Eddie.
all it took was a backwards baseball cap by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit) : Or, the one in which Eddie loses his shit at Buck wearing a backwards baseball cap. Seriously, can this man get more attractive? Is he trying to kill Eddie?
drawstrings by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (PWP, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Eddie helps Buck fix his drawstrings. How was he supposed to know it’d lead to him sitting in Bucks lap?
🔥 come with me, together, we can take the long way home (series) by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Canon compliant | 105K | T to M):
Get me through the night; Make me feel alright (Post-S3 Finale | 11K | Mature): After an emotionally-gutting reunion with Abby, Buck turns to old coping mechanisms. Eddie helps him find a better way. In Uncertain Times, The Uncertain Rules Apply (Pre-S4 | 22K | Teen): Covid comes to LA. Eddie copes. Or doesn't. Holding out for Something More (Stuck in Reverse) (Post S4E3/Lone Star Crossover | 26K | Teen): LA is coming out of lockdown and the world is returning to some sense of normalcy. But going back to the way things were hurts more than Buck expected. While his therapist challenges him to confront what he really wants, the team takes a trip to Austin... and El Paso. so far from being free (S4E4: 9-1-1 What's Your Grievance?, S4E5: Buck Begins | 46K | Teen): That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible.
carry my heart home to you by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After his parents join him for a therapy session, Buck starts to learn that some people are never going to be able to give you what you need. And some people are.
if you say it with your hands by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (S2 | 10K | Teen): Buck thinks it must be a habit he still hasn’t dropped from his days in the army, or maybe it comes with the territory of being a dad – but Eddie can nap pretty much anywhere. or, Eddie starts casually falling asleep against Buck, and Buck is very normal about it.
🔥 into thirty separate parts by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (S6 | 12K | Teen): “Theoretically,” says Buck, as soon as Eddie picks up the phone, “your ex writes a book about you.” There is a pregnant pause. “…Right,” Eddie decides on, finally. or, Taylor’s book comes out.
close friends (that you lowkey want to fuck, but in a totally platonic way) by rowan_wood/ @transboybuckley (Getting Together | 2K | Teen): Instagram rolls out a new feature, and Buck doesn't totally understand how it works.
I'm still standing in the same place where you left me standing by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (POV Bobby, Hurt Eddie, Getting Together | 8K | Teen) Bobby deals with the ramifications of a misplaced confession
Keep My Heart Warm In Yours by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Christmas, Post-S6, Getting Together | 18K | Mature): Christopher decides that he wants to go skiing, Buck makes it happen and the cabin at the foot of the mountains turns out to be quite the romantic backdrop for their little getaway.
Hiding the Christmas Present (of You and Me) by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Christmas | 7K | General): Buck thought he was going to spend Christmas alone. His family decides to correct that assumption.
If I Fall, Can You Pull Me Up? by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Hurt Buck, Established Buddie | 7K | General): Eddie could pick Buck from a million miles away. Buck’s entire being was like one bright light in an otherwise cloudy sky. So, he was really interested to know why some stranger was wearing his boyfriend’s turnout coat and pretending to be him.
Used to Think That Lovin' Meant a Painful Chase by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): It’d been fine when Buck had Eddie’s dick in his mouth. It wasn’t often that Buck got to see Eddie come undone but he’d been treated to a private showing and the pride he had being the one to take Eddie there was indescribable. But then things got… weird. Or maybe, it was Buck that got weird? He still wasn’t really sure where it started, to be honest.
for all the words unspoken by Maira/ @carrierofthepaperclips (Work Trip, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): "Buck." Eddie had already dropped his bag and was standing next to the bed, hands on his hips. "We've slept in the same bed before. I'm pretty sure we'll manage to do the same in this one, it's humorously large. Don't!" He held up a hand as Buck opened his mouth. His lips twitched, though, so Buck took it as a win. ... or, the one with only one bed.
underneath the tree by devirnis/ @devirnis (PWP, BDSM | 2K | Explicit): Frowning to himself in concentration, Eddie carefully folds the wrapping paper around the corner of the box. He has no idea how his mother makes this look so easy, even after she walked him through it earlier on FaceTime. Under the tree, Eddie’s present whines plaintively.
WIP
🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 20K | 8/? | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.
🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 102/? | 276K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
Love Ends. by rowan_wood (Exes to Lovers | 4/17 | 5K | Explicit): But what if it doesn't?
in my head by yourcatfishfriend/ @your-catfish-friend (Friends With Benefits | 8/9 | 30K | Explicit): Buck is confidently bisexual. Eddie isn't sure. Buck helps him figure it out.
Re-Read
🔥 Always, All Ways by ashavahishta/ @ashavahishta (A/B/O AU | 85K | Explicit): Buck’s the only omega in the 118. He’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. Eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down.
177 notes · View notes
gaysindistress · 5 months
Note
Hiya ❤️ would you maybe do buck imagine for my bday tomorrow for me? I'd really need some distraction atm. One where you have a crush on each other but of course don't talk about it. Then one night you enter the living room all dressed up for a date and buck is totally flashed by you, until you ask for his opinion for it. When he realizes this is for another guy he gets all bad mooded and leaves. Then instead of your date, you head to Buckys room and decide to finally make a move and kiss him and admit your feelings, which leads to also sleeping together and lots of cute Bucky afterwards? 🙊
Hi babes!!! Im so sorry I didn’t reply to this sooner. I wanted to wait until I finished the fic before I answered. I left it more suggestive but there’s plenty of cute Bucky!!
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Warnings: cursing and suggestive content
“I told you to stay back! Do you ever listen?” Bucky sneers when he spots a furry of black rush past him into the open courtyard.
“Yeah just not to you. I’ve learned to tune out your voice,"I plainly state back, tucking myself behind a cement pillar after making a mad dash across the courtyard.
“Would it kill you to put your ego aside for one mission? For…” he’s interrupted by the rain of bullets coming his way and he drops down to the ground, “Sam do you copy?”
“Loud and clear,” he answers through their earpieces, “It looks like there’s about five guys shooting at you. Want Redwing to take them out?”
Bucky’s nose flares at the mention of the godforsaken machine but concedes, “Cover her and I’ll do it.”
“Excuse me? I don’t need anyone’s…” a shriek cuts me short and the sound of my own bullets confirms that I do, in fact, need help and Redwing is on it within seconds, taking out the offended men.
“What was that?” Bucky tries not to sound mocking but it’s just too good of a moment to miss.
“Shove it, Barnes. You’re the one who doesn’t immediately think of his bionic arm because he’s right handed.”
“Sam you told her about that? That’s it. Both of you are fired when we get back.”
We chuckle at his false threat and focus on the task at hand; getting inside of the looming concrete building, extract the intel, and get out in one piece.
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“Sammmmmmmmmm…”
The man glances up from the book he is reading at the sound of his name being drawn out, “yesssssss y/nnnnnnn?”
“I need to talk to you,” I nervously whisper, twisting around to see if anyone is in the room. Slipping his bookmark into the book, Sam sets it down and sits back against the couch, gesturing for me to take a seat.
“I swear to god if this has to be with robo cop, your free therapy sessions will come to an end,” he teased me but comes off harsher than he intended and he cringes when my face falls.
“Oh it’s okay. I’m sorry to bother you,"I quickly try to recover the social blunder I’ve made but he grabs my wrist and tells me to sit my ass back down.
“You’re not bothering me and you know better than to take me seriously,” he gently chides me as he pulls me into his side, “what did he do now?”
Fingers twist in uncomfortable angles as I ring my hands together in my lap. Regret starts to fill me and pushes against me like the strong coastal winds, trying to shove me off of the couch and out of the room.
“Nothing. I just…I just hate it, ya know? I hate the whole shitty back and forth we have and how he’s always such an asshole but only to me. I hate that…” I trail off and lean my head on Sam’s shoulder, “I hate that I can’t just tell him how I feel. At this point just getting it off my chest is all I want; I don’t care if he feels the same. I wouldn’t even care if he rejected me, as long as I just didn’t have to live with this disgusting school girl crush.”
Sam chuckles, “have you tried talking to him?”
“We are talking about the same person here, right?”
Although I can’t see him, I can feel the eye roll and heat it in the sarcasm that drips from his voice.
“I will shove you off this couch, I’m trying to HELP you,” he jokingly pushes me away causing us to both laugh, “if you won’t talk to him, then why not move on?”
My laughter dies instantly.
Move on?
Move on?
Move fucking on?
“It’s not that simple,” I snipe at Sam and he hisses from the fake burn of my words.
“It was a suggestion. You don’t have to listen to it,” he says with mock defensiveness.
Another fit of laughter overcomes us and I fall into his lap, completely unaware of how this might look to others. That is until we hear a snort of disgust from the doorway.
The owner?
The one and only Bucky Barnes.
I scramble off of Sam and clear my throat, embarrassed that Bucky walked past.
“Come on, Sam. You can do better than her,” he says with a scowl before striding down the hallway again.
Sam’s jaw tenses and he’s muttering to himself as he stands, taking off after the super solider. He pauses at the door, “I’m sorry for him.”
“It’s fine,” I mumble but it’s not convincing enough.
“No it’s not and I’m going to kick his ass for it. And for the record I think you should at least try and date other people.”
I give him a small smile as he turns and takes off after Bucky, shouting the whole way that he better be ready to get his ass whopped.
Try and date other people.
Try and date other people.
Try and date other people.
It feels deeply wrong to even think about dating other people but Bucky clearly isn’t in a place to even hear my feelings for him.
I pull my phone out and open the most god forsaken app to ever exist; Tinder.
The profile that Yelena and Natasha helped me make has several matches and unread messages but I haven’t had the heart to respond or even open them. Scrolling aimlessly, I pick someone random and message him back.
I have to at least try no matter how loud my heart is screaming at me.
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Nelly Furtado and Megan Thee Stallion have been on repeat for the last three maybe four hours. I’m sure everyone is annoyed and would be banging on my door, shouting at me to turn it off if Sam hadn’t told literally every single person in the tower that I had a date. Tony clapped me on the shoulder, congratulating me for getting out there while Yelena and Natasha demanded to know every detail about this mystery man. I promised Sam that I wouldn’t forget this and he better be ready to lose next time we spar during training. His usual smile dropped as the fear of god struck him. Well the fear of ME struck him.
Smoothing my dress down, I cock my head at my reflection in the mirror. I have to admit that I look stunning in the simple fitted dress that Natasha practically ordered I wear. It’s a tie dye pattern of cream and red with thin straps and a scoop neckline that shows off the star pendant necklace that Tony and Pepper gave me when I first moved in. A “welcome to the tower and good luck” gift as he put it with a teasing smile. Simple hoops line my ears and two matching bracelets adore my wrists however the simplicity of my outfit feels over the top. I’d changed my shoes about 40 times and settled on a pair of tan platform sandals but something is nagging at me to change again.
I check the time and curse under my breath when I see that I need to leave in 5 minutes, which certainly isn’t enough time to change everything. The thought of canceling occurs to me but I know I’ll never hear the end of it.
Checking my reflection one last time, I grab my phone and shove it in my purse before leaving my room. Normally I’d be able to tell if someone was in the common living room but I’m too distracted by hyping myself up for this date to notice that there is someone sitting on the couch.
A certain asshole who never fails to piss me off but also makes me fall for him even more to be exact.
I come to a halt when I feel his presence and duck behind the wall, praying he didn’t see me. Peaking my head out, I’m relieved that he hasn’t and my heart clenches at the sight. Bucky looks so peaceful sitting on the couch dressed in a hoodie and joggers with a well loved book in his lap. Although his hood is pulled up, his ruffled hair peeks out, having grown longer and longer with each passing day. When I first met him, he was damn near bald with his short cropped hair but he’s let it grow long enough that he has to push it back every now and again. I jokingly offered him a hair tie during training one day after I saw how frustrated he was getting with it. He snatched it from me with a grumble and sported a unicorn hair for the remainder of training. Sometimes I think I see that black hair tie on his wrist but he’s all too eager to get away from me for me to properly look.
“I can feel you staring, pervert,” his voice cracks from not being used in hours and I flinch at the sudden noise.
“I’m not staring,” I weakly mumble and step back into the living room.
He hasn’t looked up from his book, still reading the pages as he speaks to me, “yes you were.”
I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at him which of course, he somehow sees. It’s beyond me how he can literally sense everything except for my feelings towards him.
His piercing eyes flicker up at me for a brief moment and back to his book before doing a double take.
“Where are you going?”
His question catches me off guard and I scowl at him, “what are you? My dad?”
His jaw twitches but he says nothing.
Satisfied that I got the best of him, I push my luck and ask him, “how do I look? Would you want to go on a date with me?”
Apparently that’s a big fucking mistake because he’s up and storming out of the room like a fucking child without a single word.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble under my breath and go after him, “Barnes! I asked you a question, don’t you know it’s rude to storm off and not answer when someone asks you something?”
The behemoth of a man still says nothing as he continues to stomp down the hall.
“Bucky!” I shout at him and he stills right at his door. His left hand is gripping his door knob and I can hear it crumble under its strength. He doesn’t turn to look at me. No no he turns his head just enough to side eye me as he spits out, “fuck off, Y/N.”
The use of my first name takes me back. He never calls me y/n, not even when he’s furious with me for not falling orders. It’s always my last name, Agent, or some rude nickname and on very rare occasions when he’s flirting with me to be a dick, doll.
“Excuse me?” I scoff at him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I said fuck off,” he grits out as he rips the door open and tries to slam it shut but my hand stops him.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that, no matter how much you hate me. What is your deal anyways? All I did was ask if you liked my outfit which shouldn’t matter to you anyways,” I tell him as I shove into his room. It’s his turn to be taken aback and he stumbles backwards when I push through.
“You’ve made it very clear that you despise me and I, for the life of me, cannot figure out why,” my pent up frustration and anger come spilling out as I continue to tell him off, “I was nothing but kind and friendly when I first got here but you? You were a dick from day one and only to me! You didn’t treat Yelena or even fucking Sharon that way. It was just me and it got worse! Oh my god it’s gotten so much worse and whether or not you want to believe it, I’m a person who has feelings! I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve cried in the shower because of you. It got so bad that I would cry myself to sleep like a fucking idiot and someone had to sit with me until I fell asleep so I wouldn’t throw myself into a goddamn panic attack. Poor Sam almost moved in because he was the only one that could calm me down. Did you know that?”
He’s staring at me with wide eyes but not a single emotion crosses over them. It makes me unbelievably angry that my outburst doesn’t even phase him.
So I keep going, “and you want to know the worst part? The day I got here, Tony was showing me around and he brought me into the kitchen where everyone was eating. You were there, flirting with Sam just to piss him off but you looked so happy. You were laughing and smiling so much that Tony, fucking Tony made a comment about how that was the happiest he’d seen you in a while. You hadn’t seen us yet but when you did, you gave me that charming Brooklyn smile and it was all over for me. From that single smile, I knew I was screwed because I’d caught feelings for you. Not that it mattered though because within a matter of hours, you lost that smile and were so awful. I tried so hard to make you like me but nothing. If anything it made you hate me even more but no matter what, I’ve always had these…feelings for you that I don’t want anymore. I don’t want to look at you and feel my heart breaking because you don’t feel the same way. I don’t want to pick apart every person I talk to because they’re not you and I hate that they’re not. I don’t want to cry to Sam about how it feels like a piece of me is dying when I’m not around you but you want nothing to do with me. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, Bucky. I can’t… I can’t feel like this.”
By the end of my confession, the tears I swore I would never shed again have fallen. They ruin the makeup I spent an hour putting on, pretending it was a date with Bucky because thinking about Miguel makes my skin crawl. I know I look like a mess but I don’t care. I’ve said my peace finally and while it’s embarrassing and I know I’ll regret it later, it’s done. Maybe now I can move on or at least find comfort in knowing that I won’t have to face Bucky again and live with these disgusting unrequited feelings.
He’s still said nothing, hasn’t moved or otherwise acknowledged that he’s heard me. He just stands there, staring at me with a clenched jaw and completely still. The only noises that fill his room are my sniffles and the subtle whirring of his arm as he clenches his hands into fists.
Of course he wouldn’t say anything. Why would he? It’s not surprising but hurtful regardless because I would’ve hoped he’d find a shred of kindness to show me under all of that hatred.
I shake my head as I turn to leave, unable to deal with him and with the fact that I’m now late for my date. My phone buzzes and I’m greeted with a rather rude message from Miguel about how unattractive it is that I’m late and didn’t even give him a heads up. It takes everything in me to not scream as loud as I can and throw my phone against the wall. Instead I settle for angrily shoving it back into my purse while more than a few foul words fall from my lips.
A cold metal hand clasps onto my wrist as I pull open the door and I look down at it in shock.
“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky whispers, his grip gentle but inescapable all the same. I want to tear myself away but he’s touching me. My heart begins to pound at the connection between us and I let out a shuttered breath.
“You can start by apologizing for how you talked to me,” I manage to say with a voice that is steadier than my breathing.
“I’m sorry, doll. Not just for that but for everything. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry I made you cry and made you think I hated you. I’m sorry I ever treated you the way that I did. No one deserves that and especially not you,” he says in a low voice while slowly closing the distance between us. His hand slides up my arm until it rests on my bicep and he asks for me to come closer too with a soft squeeze.
“I know actions are louder than words and if you’ll let me, I will do anything you ask of me to make it up to you. All you have to do is ask, doll and I swear I’ll do it,” his voice cracks with emotions that I never thought he could feel. Tears brim his eyes as he looks at me with such hope that I feel my own threaten to start falling again.
“No,” it shocks me just as much as it shocks him. His hand loosens and falls to his side.
“No,” I breathe out, “I can’t…that’s….Bucky I just admitted that I’m in love with you and that’s all you have to say? I appreciate the effort but it’s not…no it’s not enough.”
“You’re in love with me?”
Disbelief laces his words and I let out a scoff because he can’t be fucking serious right now.
“Don’t… don’t make me say it,” I stammer over my words as my sobs get caught in my throat.
He blinks at me for a moment before repeating it more to himself than me, “you’re in love with me.”
I wait with bated breath as he processes the revelation. He takes a sudden step forward and I take one back out of habit. Pain explodes onto his face as he steps back again and I swear to god I’ve never felt my heart break as much as it is now.
“Don’t play with my emotions, Bucky,” I hiss, the words harsher than I intend
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters while running a hand through his hair, “do you really think I’d do something like that?”
An answer materializes on my tongue but I can’t say it and he learns it from the struggle in my eyes.
“Wow, I…I can’t believe that you think that low of me.”
“No, I don't because I think the world of you.”
He shakes his head, “don’t play with my emotions either, doll.”
“Considering that I don’t know what they are most of the time, I don’t think I could even if I tried.”
There’s a shift in the tension and I can’t place what. Bucky straightens his shoulders and looks at me with a new intensity. He attempts another step in my direction and when I don’t back away, he begins to prowl towards me.
“I’m not good with words.”
“Trust me I’m aware.”
“I haven’t been able to think about my own wants and needs until recently.”
He backs me into the door but stays a foot or so away from me.
“Where are you going with this?” My voice is whinier than I’d hoped and I pray to god he doesn’t notice.
But he does and the smile that hooked me in the first place overtakes his face.
“Anywhere you want me to, doll. If you want me to give you space, I’ll give it to you even though it’ll break me,” he whispers seriously, “If you want me to grovel until we’re both old and forget why, I’ll gladly get on my knees for you right now. If you want me to show you how I feel, all you have to do is say yes.”
Hesitation creeps up on me because I know what I want and what I want is not what I need.
“Yes.”
Bucky takes the final steps and pins me against the door, both arms caging me in so I have nowhere to go. My hands fly up to his shoulders as he leans in, not quite letting our lips touch.
“I’m in love with you too,” he whispers against my lips before his descends upon mine. I half expected him to devour me but it’s unhurried, slow and languid as our lips move in sync. I can feel his love in the way that his tongue slides against my bottom lip before slipping in. He’s gentle with me as his hands move to cradle my head and pull me impossibly closer. He's apologizing for the tears and angst I’ve felt as my phone rings and he silences it without breaking our kiss. He’s showing that he’ll spend as long as it takes to show his love for me as he urges me to wrap my legs around his waist and takes me to his bed.
My phone rings again and he lets out a frustrated growl as he breaks our kiss to answer it. He rolls his eyes at the name that flashes and presses the answer button with a little too much aggression.
“Hello?”
I can’t hear what Miguel says but Bucky’s replies are very clear.
“This is her boyfriend.”
“Since when? Since right fucking now.”
He hangs up and tosses my phone to the other side of his bed.
“Boyfriend, huh?” I tease however it falls short when he dips his head to my neck, licking and sucking at my skin.
“Have a problem with it, doll?”
“Not at all.”
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narcissarina · 1 month
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Darkened Desires
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Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon || Chapter 4: The sun || Chapter 5: The sun || Chapter 6: The moon || Chapter 7: The moon || Chapter 8: The sun || Chapter 9: The sun || Chapter 10: The outsider || Chapter 11: The moon || Chapter 12: The sun || Chapter 13: The sun || Chapter 14: The moon || Chapter 15: The sun
Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader
Word count: 579
Thank you for making it this far!
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EPILOGUE
I got back at working on my usual, had to company and assure my mother that everything’s under control and that I am fine (haven’t recovered from that experience but I’m making progress) my friends scolded me and got worried, I’m actually fine right now since I know a man who would go lengths just to come to my aid and rescue.
The same man who stalked me, kidnap me even then gave me a tour of his own home. Sharing his stories and experiences as I take in that we live in different worlds—yet he choses to be with me. Opposite attracts, right?
He lives in the dark, and I’m in the light.
Like how the moon loves the sun, that’s why every once in a while there’s an eclipse.
Funny how he was the obsessed one, I won’t be lying that he isn’t good in bed.
It’s been a few months, I still go to therapy because Scara refuse to stop paying for my sessions, he still believes that I still need it. “what do you mean that I don’t have to pay for your therapy?” he said and give me a judgmental look.
I even ask Ajax about it and he said he can’t do anything about it, and that Scara gets snappy when Ajax talk to him on my behalf.
The Tsaritsa has been doing good and her health was improving when I’m around (she thinks I’m her daughter but I really don’t mind) she would give me gifts on many occasions, I still remember she almost bought me a car, since my old one is shit.
The more I know them like friends, the more I forget that they’re wanted criminals. My mind drifting off that they’re old friends when they’re literally a dangerous and powerful mafia.
Behind the café counter, I take orders for my customers and work on the usual routine that I normally had. But this time, something different—after taking the last order, I move my neck as it cracks some of my stiffen muscles.
I go over and clean the counter top, then made a bitter black coffee, just how he likes it.
Ding—
The sound of the bell of the door opening. I greet that customer with a smile and present him his usual.
“Welcome, here’s your usual.” I greet and hand him his bitter black coffee, “did you make sure you made it with extra love?” Scara teases, as his hand brushes over mine as he takes his coffee from my hand.
I could only chuckle at his remark, he leans in the counter—coffee in hand as he took my hand with his free one, “date at three?” he kissed my knuckles, I roll my eyes and nodded.
He smirks and got to his table to drink his coffee and wait for my shift to end.
My friend pops out of nowhere and gave me a scare, “jesus!” I yelp, she cock a brow and look at me up and down, “y’all better behave.” I chuckle at her and wink.
I watch the man who sat beside the door, drinking his coffee and reading—the same man who has dangerous connections, who is morally grey. The same man who saved me, obsessed with me.
I smile, knowing that my safety will be in his hands.
Assured that he’ll give me the future that he and I vision.
The same man I didn’t knew I fell in love with.
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A/n: Hello! This series has finally comee to an end, thank you for reading and for sticking around 😭😭🙏 I appreciate you reading my works, comments were really appreciated and motivates me to write more stories!
Started writing this at March 1, 2024
Finished writing this day, March 22, 2024.
Thank you for sticking with me!
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dreamwatch · 7 months
Text
STWG daily drabble - 28/09/23
Prompt: horse
Warnings: mentions of chronic pain
This is the longest thing I have ever shared, and the weirdest thing I have ever written. I have literally zero idea where this came from. It's not beta'd, apologies for typos etc. This is just shy of 2.5k words, so yeah... not so Drabble actually.
****
“So, what’s on your mind today, Eddie?”
He sees Doctor Pearcey every Wednesday at 2pm. Has done now for two months. And it’s the first thing she says to him every time he sits down. What’s on your mind today, Eddie? He’s responded in various ways. With anger. With humour. With distrust. On one particularly memorable day, with silence, which Doctor Pearcey matched in spades. The two of them sat there for an hour and didn’t say a single word. Eddie wanted to peel his skin off about ten minutes into it.
He’s in more pain than usual today, has a lower tolerance for her psychobabble mumbo jumbo, so he’s already looking to derail the session before he gets in the room.
“Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Eddie asks her.
“No, I haven’t. Have you?”
“Hmm, couple of times.”
There’s silence for a minute or so. It’s like they’re playing therapy chicken, who gives in and speaks first? It’s usually him.
“I like them. Like how fast they are, you know? How free you feel on them.” He digs his thumb into the leather of the armchair, leaving little crescent nail marks.
“And what’s got you thinking about that today?”
The beautiful purple Kawasaki he passed on his way here today would be the easy answer. But when did he ever do anything easy?
“Wayne hates them. I’ve been wanting one for years, but he begged me not to. Asked me to wait till I was twenty one. I think he thought I would just grow out of it.” 
“And have you?”
“Fuck no. I want one more than ever.”
She waits.
“I’m twenty one next week, and I won’t be getting a motorcycle because my leg is fucked, and I can’t twist or move properly.” He doesn’t bother hiding the bitterness. “It doesn’t matter, I mean, it’s whatever at this point, just another thing I can’t do, add it to the fucking pile, right?”
He changes the subject and she follows along behind waiting for breadcrumbs. Eventually their time comes to an end and he’s desperate to get out.
“Do you trust me, Eddie?”
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You work for the spook agency that started this fucking nightmare. So, no, not really.”
She smiles back. “That’s fair.” She walks to her desk and scribbles a note before handing it to him. Eddie takes it from her like it’s poisonous.
“Meet me at that address on Sunday. Two PM. I’ll be waiting.”
And that is definitely not how the sessions usually end.
——
Wayne is working so Steve offers to take him. And Eddie isn’t going to say no to spending some time with him, especially when he’s walking into the unknown. Although the unknown appears to be…
“A horse sanctuary? Why the fuck does she want to meet you at a horse sanctuary?”
“Maybe she’s going to shoot me and put me out of my misery.”
Steve slaps him against the chest with the back of his hand. “Dude.”
“Sorry.” 
He sees her standing at a fence watching a couple of horses wander around the paddock. The ground is a little rough below his feet and his leg has been a complete nightmare all week, so Steve walks with him, hand gently resting at Eddie’s elbow as he traverses the uneven ground with his cane. It makes him grateful and fucking furious all at the same time. Such is his life these days.
“You came. I’m glad,” she says, smiling brightly.
“Well, my curiosity door was opened,” replies Eddie and Steve stifles a laugh beside him.
Steve heads back to the car, squeezes Eddie’s elbow gently, before saying goodbye to the Doc. She watches the exchange intently, and Eddie feels entirely scrutinised. He hasn’t spoken about Steve in the sessions, has no intention of doing so and the last person he would want to know about it is someone that works for the fucking feds.
“So, why am I here, exactly?”
“I thought you might like to get out of that stuffy office for a change. You never seem very comfortable.”
Eddie laughs. “Uh huh, and what is it that gave you the impression I’d be comfortable in a field full of horses?”
She shrugs. “Humour me.”
See, it was shit like that that drove Eddie crazy. Humour me. It’s Sunday. Right now he could be lying on his bed playing guitar, reading, hanging out with Steve. He could be jerking off. All of which was preferable to standing in a field full of horseshit.
“Okay, well I’m not in a humorous mood, so I’m going to leave you to your equine endeavours.” He turns to leave.
“There’s someone I want you to meet. Before you go. Will only take a minute.” The Doc waves at a stable hand and a few minutes later Eddie is face to face with a beautiful white horse.
“I swear to god, if you tell me his name is Shadowfax…”
She laughs. “No, this is Tony. Tony, meet Eddie.” Tony whinnies, nodding his head up and down, his mane blowing gently in the wind. Eddie smiles. God damn her.
Eddie reaches over the fence to stroke Tony. This gorgeous, graceful animal, and it’s called fucking Tony.
“He’s beautiful. How come he’s here?”
“He was a race horse, I believe. But he was slow, didn’t make his owners any money. So now he gets to live here and lead a good life.”
“Doesn’t he miss racing? Like, aren’t they bred for that? What does he do all day if he can’t race anymore?”
“It wasn’t meant to be. But he’s patient, and kind and now he helps people learn to ride. And he’s very, very good at that.” She turns to face him, one arm hooked over the fence. “You said you were disappointed at not being able to ride a motorcycle? Correct?”
Where the fuck was this going? 
“Yeah… ?”
“Why ride a steel horse when you can ride the real thing?”
Eddie splutters. “You have to be kidding me?” She just keeps smiling. He stares at her, open mouthed and wide eyed. “You’re fucking serious?”
“I’m fucking serious,” she says, with a glint of mischief. “You wanted the freedom and the excitement of riding. Well, I’m offering it to you. Or, Tony’s offering it to you, really.”
He looks between her and Tony. “Did you miss the part about my leg being fucked? How the hell am I even supposed to get up there? And what if I fall? No, absolutely not.”
The Doc gives him a long hard stare. “Do you trust me?” she ask him.
“No.”
“The sanctuary has a programme for disabled riders. Tony is the best of the best. You’d be perfectly safe. Come on, Eddie. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“This was… very nice, I guess, of you to think about this, but no. Sorry. It’s not the same as a bike, like at all. I have control of the bike, my bike can’t just run off and start jumping over fences and shit.”
“No, but your bike’s not smart. Tony is smart. He’s kind. He feels his rider, he knows what they need, knows when they’re scared. He fills in the gaps, takes the lead when a rider needs it, hands them back control when they don’t. He can guide you. Look after you. Your bike can’t do that.”
He feels his resolve wane. He sighs. Animals, they get him every time.
“People get hurt riding horses.”
“Sure, but they don’t call motorbikes donorcycles for nothing, Eddie.” Touché.
He shakes his head, this is such a stupid idea, but eventually that little pixie voice in his head just says fuck it, and within fifteen minutes he’s wearing a very unflattering helmet, climbing a mounting block and being helped into the saddle on Tony’s back.
He feels like he’s going to slip off the other side, and every time Tony moves his head forward toward the ground Eddie panics because it feels like he’ll just lean forward and drop like a rock to the ground. It's incredibly disorienting.
Eddie grips the reins so hard he sees his knuckles go white until the instructor shows him how to hold them properly. They show him how to guide Tony but ultimately Tony is doing all the work here, Eddie is just along for the ride. 
He’s led around the paddock, and yeah, he feels stupid at first, self conscious sitting up in the air for everyone to see. But eventually he gets into the swing of it, and it’s… nice. Nerve wracking, but nice.
They’re going at walking speed, he can feel the rhythmic sway of Tony’s body, and it’s comforting. Why is it comforting? It’s not exactly the Kentucky Derby, but he can’t stop himself from grinning.
Eddie knows fuck all about horses, less than fuck all actually, but if he didn’t know better he’d say that Tony was enjoying himself. And as much as he hates that she’s right, he feels at peace. Feels like he trusts this animal, who he literally just met, but who seems to be having a ball wandering around with this asshole on his back.
“Wanna pick it up a bit?” asks the instructor and Eddie’s about to say ‘fuck no’ when Tony comes to a stop. Like he knows Eddie’s not sure. Eddie strokes along Tony’s thick, white mane, and pats his shoulder. 
“Eurgh, yeah, shit, okay,” he says before leaning forward and whispering in Tony’s ear, “look after me, okay? Cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing up here.” Tony answers with a swooping nod of the head and then they’re off.
They’re barely going any faster as Tony trots around the paddock, but Eddie can definitely feel the difference. The soft, comforting sway has been replaced by a harder jolt. He’s going to pay for it tomorrow, can already feel it in his hips and back, and he hasn’t got the strength in his leg to properly push up from the stirrups, but it doesn’t matter.
The last time he was on a motorcycle he was seventeen, and it belonged to a friend of Reefer Rick’s. He was riding pillion and they were going way over the speed limit, and he’d never felt more alive, more free. He was young enough and dumb enough to think he’d never get hurt. He was invincible at seventeen. He wasn’t even a little bit scared of falling off. The folly of youth. 
In three short years the folly of youth has been replaced with constant dread and a little bit of paranoia.
This isn’t the same as that careless charge up the highway, not by a long shot, but it’s exciting in it’s own way, like going on a roller coaster instead of walking through an alternate universe.
He feels at peace. A moment in time when he’s not having to think about doctors appointments, worrying about Wayne, worrying about his future. His life has got so small since March. The kids are at school and he’s not, but he can’t work so he spends endless unfilled hours at home, waiting for other people to have space for him.
The constant churn in his mind slows, his thoughts empty, his worries silence. 
They go back to a steady walk, Tony’s body lilting from side to side, a gentle rock. Eddie already loves him. He’s a fucking sap. Horses? Rich people pets? No way man, not for him. But this guy, this is Eddie’s guy now.
As they turn in the paddock he sees Steve leaning over the fence, grinning.
“Nice hat!” Asshole.
Eddie flips him off but Steve just laughs, sunglasses pushed back up on his head. Steve can read him like a book, and Eddie knows he can see it. The complicated emotions today is bringing out in him. The joy and the excitement and the little bit of sadness. Steve raises his eyebrows, that little silent okay? Eddie smiles shyly and nods in response. They’ll talk properly later, when Eddie is trying to unpack everything.
It’s over too soon. Eddie’s helped down and fuck, yeah he’s in a little pain now, but Jesus it was so worth it. He pats Tony, strokes his neck, tells him what a beautiful boy he is, and Tony leans over nudges his nose against the side of Eddie’s face. There is a conversation happening between them, just this little quiet acknowledgement of something. Eddie doesn’t want to leave him. He feels… changed, weirdly. Like it was spiritual. Like something inside him got cracked open just a little.
“So?”
Doctor Pearcey stands behind him, looking pretty pleased with herself. 
He tilts his head to the side, makes a big show of it. “Yeah, it was okay.” Eddie knows she sees through his bullshit. They’ll be talking about this next week. No need to go through it all now.
They head back to the car, Steve at his elbow again, and Doctor Pearcey hands him a card with the sanctuary number on. “Just in case you’d like to come back.”
He does. Wayne is going to enjoy giving him shit, and he doesn’t even want to think of the number of jockey jokes in his future, but he really does want to do this again.
The car ride is quiet on the way home, just the sound of some top forty shit in the background, but Eddie’s mind is elsewhere. He feels still, his head is clear and quiet. Ridiculously relaxed.
“How’s your ass?” asks Steve.
Eddie grins. “Haven’t had any complaints.”
“Jesus Christ.” But he’s laughing. They’re both laughing.
“So, you want to do it again? We can make it regular, I’ll just make sure Keith doesn’t schedule me for Sundays.”
Eddie stares at the side of Steve’s face. This guy. This fucking guy. 
“You’d do that?”
“Of course I would.” Steve looks studiously out at the road, hands firmly at ten and two. “I’d do anything for you.”
Eddie feels like he’s skipped a breath, but tentatively reaches his hand across the console and pokes at Steve’s thigh. Steve takes a hand off the wheel, reaches blindly to find Eddie’s, gives it a little squeeze before letting go. They don’t look at each other.
He leans back in his seat, imagines Tony, galloping, mane trailing behind him in the wind. Just beautiful.
Why the fuck did they call him Tony?
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strawhatkia · 9 months
Text
luvr boy.
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INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader
GENRE ! fluff
SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !
WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited
WORD COUNT ! 1.6k
A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back
reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍
MAIN MASTERLIST | BNHA MASTERLIST | TAGLIST
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— ☾⋆⁺₊ 👊🏻 📗✧
pretty boy- the prettiest 
alright!! let’s start with wash day!!
…nigga did not know shit-
 poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair
all he had was h e a t  d a m a g e
“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”
everything…everything is wrong…
aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength
and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack
chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it 
don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?
but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!
first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while
lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter
mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber  
after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet
“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth
after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size
“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night. 
the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed
when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes
“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”
he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self
which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."
to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting
golden hour, his favorite time of the day
this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you
it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this
"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"
side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised
izuku loves affection, giving and receiving
his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation
so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm
go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen
one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard
as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.
let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise 
ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so
even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)
i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much
if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise. 
and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times
remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason
poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking
he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it
later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did
and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands
he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them
he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend
i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it
please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit
he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special
he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it 
when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run
give it back and you'll never see it again.
but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red
“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*
nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-
for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka
short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in
long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !  
and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”
i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles
be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !
the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all ! 
the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while
he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else
i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together
you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price
what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?
everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !
izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you 
you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you
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wanna read more ??
lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters
boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo
love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters
taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene
izuku taglist: @cosmiles
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drdemonprince · 2 months
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Cathy was so afraid. She couldn’t have the surgery without a designated carer. My name is in her medical records, I was to drive her to the hospital, get educated by her physical therapists, get her home, and see to her basic needs. If I was too ill to help, the surgery would be postponed, and it had already taken a full year to schedule. She’s been in bed since the summer of 2020, so the thought of postponement was unbearable. I drove her over an hour to the hospital early Thursday morning. My fever was gone, and I wasn’t coughing. It had been 6 days since my first symptoms. I wore a mask. The surgery before Cathy’s went over by three hours. Her surgeon looked totally drained when he stepped in the room. He said her surgery would be “very challenging.” It went super long too. The family waiting room was empty by the time he finally came in and told me, “It was difficult, but I’m quite pleased.” I went to Cathy’s room to find her free of pain and silly chatty from the anesthesia. I stayed, because a person just out of surgery should have somebody with them. Shouldn’t they? Oh, but the drive home! Dark and in a blinding rain! I was so stressed and scared. The hour drive seemed to last three hours. Lightning and howling wind greeted me as I dashed into the house. I had to grab some sleep and be back at 8:30 for physical therapy. Cathy panicked trying to walk in her walker. She couldn’t figure out which foot to use going up and down practice stairs. She’d say the correct foot out loud, then lead with the wrong foot and cry in pain. “That went super well!” chirped the therapist. “Let’s get you prepped for discharge!” I told Cathy I was going for lunch, but I found the charge nurse. “I can’t do this,” I said. “I’ve got to somehow get her into a truck with a high running board. Then I have to get her out and up four steps into her house. She’s not ready, and I’m scared.” The nurse (bless her heart!) called the therapy team, and they put their heads together. “Don’t worry,” she told me. “We’ll find some way to justify another night. Go get some food and rest. Everything’s going to be okay.”
a harrowing story from my buddy James Finn about growing older, fighting with flu and with gout, and still choosing to show up for a fellow aging, neurodivergent neighbor in need. It breaks my heart to read. I wish I could have been in western Michigan to help them. Real-life stories like these remind me that I need to upend the entire structure of my life to show up for people more.
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mirdance · 2 years
Text
Hysteria
Dottore x f!Patient
Kinktober: Medical play, overstim, toys
TW: medical malpractice, chronic pain, vibes of self harm
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The metal creaked as I carefully lifted myself onto the chill medical table. I rubbed my arms and held my elbows.  My hairs stood at alert.
The pictures on the wall were always the same grassy hills I’d never had the pleasure of visiting. I stared at one as if meditating on a single blade of grass would push away the ache in my joints.
Salad and Biryani for lunch. Fish with cream sauce and a potato boat for dinner.  I’d been too tired to remember the menu each day even though our nutrition regimen remained stable, so I kept a food calendar on my desk.  I ran the list over and over in my head like a memory game. Sometimes I remembered to update it at the end of the week. Years ago I could remember things like my best childhood friend or what I went into a room to grab. Now I do good to crawl out of bed, bones popping with each step. The doctor always states that the most important thing is rest, but my knees stayed restless through sleep.
As if I could stay asleep with the amount of appointments and noise, anyway.
I could walk. That was good. Many lost the ability to use their legs. For me, it was just my arms. Just my arms. I could still go and see and take myself to the bathroom. Yet what was I supposed to do once anywhere? Books fell from my grasp, spoons unsteady. I held them, anyway, in exchange for the swelling throbs that squeezed the life out of every nerve within my upper limbs.
I could live. The catch was living in pain. So what was the point of living at all?
One of the scabs on my arms oozed between my fingertips. I stopped the anxious rubbing and cursed.
Two knocks on the door. I sat straighter.
“Good day. Sorry to keep you waiting. How are you today?” The depth of his voice rang through the metal table.
“Fine.” The small talk ropes pulled my voice box. Get through the appointment. Get through the appointment.
Except Doctor Dottore wasn’t a fan of weather talk.
“Well, you wouldn’t be here if you were fine,” he deadpanned. For some medical staff, it could count for a joke. With Dottore, I was never sure. “Now, you know how I dislike pattering and conversation with no sustenance,” he went on as he took a seat. “I can’t help you when you do that. How are you? How is your pain?”
I shrugged, which upon doing the action I realized how childish that sort of response would look. The man made me feel as if I were a scarab. “It has been better but it has been worse.”
“I see. Your temperature has been stable the past week.” He flipped a page in his journal. “But it seems your food intake has gone down. Any reason for that?”
“I haven’t really thought about it.” Every day felt like slogging through the mud. How was I supposed to count every crumb? “I guess I just feel full faster.”
His pen clunked. “Any stomach pains? Bloating? Constipation?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Have you had anxious thoughts? Getting along with everyone at home?” 
My eyes jumped to his for the first time.  They held not a hint of mirth. “I mean, I get along just fine. I’m sure you see me around.”
“I do.” He pointed his pen my way. “But I’m asking you.”
“I do get along with everyone.” My feet swung and tapped the table. Showing any sort of mental breakdown could result in an even busier day or worse, therapy. No, they didn’t put one in solitary confinement unless there was harm to another person. But they’d certainly be keeping a greater eye out. And I liked taking a shit in private. “I’m just more tired than usual.”
“Are the pains keeping you up at night?”
I took a deep breath. “A bit. Sometimes.” There was no use lying about it, he’d probably see the scabs, anyway.
“Hm. And you were practically scab free one week ago.” His eyes scanned the notes in his lap during an uncomfortable lingering silence.
Doctor Dottore did not care for decorum. He would ramble or stay silent for as exactly long as he needed. While the rambling was much to keep up with, at least I could pick out a few words rather than having to pick his brain.
He stood and straightened the cuffs on his lab coat. “Hold out your arms, please.”
I did so, and the scabs shined and cooled in the air.
“You must stop picking them,” he muttered as he held one arm in his grasp and had me do a few hand exercises. His hands were fucking freezing. He struck my elbow with his irritating hammer.
I jumped.
 “Your face contorted in pain just now,” he commented, feeling and pressing and squeezing my muscles and joints. “Noticeable inflammation. Do you feel this?”
He lightly tapped each of my fingers. I nodded each time. He repeated doing so up and down both arms.
“How about your legs?” He struck my knees one at a time, causing each to kick forward. “Any cysts?”
“Just a scab behind my knee.” I pointed. “It kinda numbs the leg at night.”
He lifted my calf and studied the scab. “Have you had them on your leg before?”
“Rarely. They usually heal up quickly.”
“Fascinating.”
Fascinating?
“When do you usually break out on your legs?”
“My, uh, my period.” He was a doctor so discussing such anatomical diversities was normal, but with him holding my leg in the air, I didn’t really know whether to laugh or feel gross.
“Perhaps hormones play a role in your stability.” He continued analyzing the scab a moment before setting my leg down. “Do you mind if I take a closer look?”
I consented. He pulled on a pair of gloves and knelt. His head leaned mere inches from the table. Had his hair always been so blue? Maybe the man was greying after spending time in the desert.
He pulled out a stirrup. I put my foot in and let him pull and tug around the scab. His fingers were merciless yet gentle enough not to break the skin. Why would he check the leg scab first? When there were enough arm ones to frighten a military?
“I won’t remove it since it should heal as your cycle moves forward, but if you have any trouble with it, come back to the office.”
He helped me settle my leg back down and immediately dabbed my arm with wipes. It stung a slight bit, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Kind of like scratching a place I couldn’t reach.
“Your shoulders are extremely tense.” He squeezed one to prove the point. “You know this doesn’t help your condition.”
“Probably just the stress,” I mumbled. “Just a little more than usual. It happens.”
For the first time, a look of concern robbed his brows. Or maybe it was irritation at hindering his research on the disease. Mental health was not as easy to control as inflammation or diet. And when inflammation was caused by mental health, it created more layers. I was frustrated with it at least.
“Stress often doesn’t just happen.” He sighed and let go of my shoulder. “Have you tried your meditation techniques? Stretches? Walks?”
He went on with the interrogation. I answered each truthfully. Despite the pain, I went through most days doing my duties. What else could I do?
“Maybe it’s time you spent on something…more leisurely, like a hobby.” He crossed his arms. “You do have those, don’t you?”
When was I going to have time to figure out my fucking hobbies? “I enjoy reading.”
“Well, we’ve plenty of books. Do you need more?”
“Maybe.” I didn’t know. I just wanted the pain to stop.
“I will order you some more.” He reached into one of the cabinets. “For now, I suggest you massage your shoulders nightly to loosen those muscles. You might try it on your leg as well if it is disrupting your sleep.”
How would I massage myself if I couldn’t even use my hands most days? Laughable.
Buzzing. Whatever mechanism Dottore held whirred to life. He held what seemed to be a handle and pointed the flat end towards me.
“Use this so that you do not tire your hands. Though I suggest having a friend help."
As he set the device in my hand, the skin on my palms tingled. I stared blankly at him. Was I supposed to just put it on my shoulder? I awkwardly set it against my shoulder. My skull reverberated. I quickly dropped the thing, causing it to clatter to the floor and shake violently.
The doctor tsked and knelt to pick it up. Though his brows furrowed, he held the glint of a smile, almost a fondness for whatever the thing was. “This must be the first time you’ve ever encountered such a contraption. The medical community has been using such devices for generations now, though their origins are…a tad deviant.”
I had no desire to place anything deviant upon my body. While many patients had it worse being subject to the Good Doctor, I remained satisfied with flying just under his radar.
“Nothing that will harm, I assure you.” He clicked one of the buttons. The massager slowed. “Allow me to show you.”
He placed it against my shoulder and applied a small amount of weight. The muscle ached but in such a way that it loosened. I leaned my neck to the side and closed my eyes with a sigh.
“That good?” Dottore questioned.
“Yes,” I breathed.
He moved to the other shoulder. Before long we tested it directly on the scabs, but the vibrations only caused pain. The surrounding muscles carried the most pain relief. Not that it took away the pain, but anything was better than nothing.
I stretched my arms out as he moved on to do my calf. Everything felt light. He lifted my leg and let the vibrations take over. A groan slipped from my lips. I quickly apologized. 
“No need.” Dottore stood and mechanically worked on my thigh. “Such things are also part of my job as a doctor. I’ve seen and heard it all.”
My eardrums rang. The core of my stomach turned inside out and settled hot in my abdomen. The movements shook the entirety of my thigh…I clenched my jaw to bear with the straight fire that coursed through my groin and averted my gaze.
“Is this painful,” he asked. He pulled it off the leg a tad.
“Nope,” I quickly barked. “Just fine.”
Gods, my cheeks boiled.
He cocked a brow. “Hm. I see.”
He continued his assault. I did my best to remain calm.
“Did you know.” He moved the massager higher up my inner thigh. “That vibrators were invented by doctors to treat female hysteria?”
I lightly shook my head, but the doctor seemed so lost in his own mind anyway. His free hand gestured wildly as he spewed names and dates I could not recognize.
“Physicians would often administer pelvic massages involving clitoral stimulation. Studies show that staff never considered it something erotic. At the time, only penetrative copulation was seen as the way to provide sexual arousal. Spas all across the world began adapting the vibrator into their treatments. Water therapy was also used but was hardly as efficient. Patients would flush and grow hot, so why wouldn’t they think that perhaps one were sweating off a fever? Of course, now we know about clitoral orgasms.”
The vibrator hovered over the exact area he spoke of. I held my breath.
“Which,” he continued. “If you were to use the device for such actions, it would most likely greatly impact your mental health, and no one here would reprimand you for it.”   
I exhaled shakily. How long had it been since I’d touched myself? Occasionally I’d attempt, but sharp pains would stab throughout my fingers and joints as if a fork were dragged across every nerve.
I would definitely use this in the privacy of my own room, I decided.
“I don’t suggest holding it for too long.” He applied the barest amount of pressure. “Though theses were created to rest the exhausted hands of doctors, I am afraid if you grip something too long in your condition, the repetitive motion might trigger more pain.”
While I wasn’t born yesterday, the stoic calmness that Dottore’s demeanor held starkly contrasted with the teasing push of his hands. Was he waiting for me to make the next move? The doctor never cared before for ethics, so why did he pause just before administrating the rest?
His knuckles brushed my inner thigh as he repositioned.  Every muscle I’d tensed fell to pieces; my thighs quivered. “I’d never known that history. But it makes sense. I suppose there’s multiple…uses for these.”
“Indeed.” Another press. “Would you like for me to continue helping you figure them out?”
While not touching the skin directly, the vibrations settled over my clothes and guided the seam against my slit. It stung. It burned. It throbbed. I needed more.
I guided my hand around the doctor’s and pressed the vibrator flush with my cunt.
That was all he needed to flash a pearly white fang and a low chuckle. “This is also my duty as a doctor, so I do not mind. Tell me if you experience any pain or release of pain or anything out of the ordinary.”
I shrieked. Whatever setting the man had turned it to whizzed and rang around the room and doubled my entire body over. My forehead crashed into the doctor, and the flood of fire that shot through my vulva multiplied as he kept the head firmly pressed. It engulfed and seized the entire lower half of my body with pulses that squeezed the life out of my clit.
I came? I came. That was an orgasm. My hands trembled and held onto his collar. My head felt as if I had drank three glasses of wine one after the other.
Another round of fire bubbled within my nerves.
I gripped his shoulders. “Do..doctor please, fuck, gods, I can’t, it’s a lot, shit.”
His lips calmly shushed me. “Good girl. Thank you for telling me how you feel. But I believe you can do more, yes?”
Could I?
“Okay,” I whined. My head thudded against his chest. Hot tears threatened the corners of my eyes.
“How is this?”
The buzzing grew louder.
I screamed.
The screaming did not stop until my second high settled into a wet throb. I sobbed into his coat as snot dribbled down my chin. He lowered the vibrations. The change of speed made my legs kick forward, and they clutched around his waist instinctively. The action pressed him and the device harder into me. I groaned and bit the lapel of his coat as I grinded. I needed more I didn’t need more I needed it I needed it
“How is your pain,” Dottore asked in a whisper that lingered in my ear.
Pain?
Oh.
For a few seconds, I’d completely forgotten.
The pull of Dottore’s lips that morphed to a grin heated against my earlobe. “It seems the experiment was a success. Please, do use the treatment wisely. If it is ever too strenuous on you, come see me, and I will treat you very well.”
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