#day 3: we've got your back not matter what | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devilfruitwriter · 9 months

Text

falls in love easily {Taz Skylar}

Summary: Life comes at you fast, and often in uncertain ways, at least that's what you find yourself thinking when it's almost five in the morning and you're waiting for the cast of the upcoming Live Action One Piece Netflix show in their makeup trailer, and you realise you might have finally found your people. (And the way you try not to think about how you might genuinely be falling for the actor who you've been joking about being in love with since day one.)

Need to Know: They/Them Reader. Makeup Artist!Reader. Fluff through vignettes. No use of Y/N.

A/N: 3424 words. Unedited and probably a mess but I love him your honor. Now idk if it's good, but I hope you enjoy it. There's mentions of drinking. Let me know what you think, or if you have any prompts for Taz or any of the rest of the cast! <3

Taglist is always open, please comment or message me to be added! xx

Taz has started bringing you coffee, and damn if you don't love him for it.

"Don't let it go to your head; they love everyone," Emily rolls her eyes but her expression is fond. You stick your tongue out at her, still cradling your steaming take away cup with both your hands, looking between them in the makeup trailer they share with you and Emily's makeup artist.

"Yeah but me the most," Taz sits a little higher in his chair, his smug little smile is levelled at his co-star, though you see his gaze flick to you and the grin you're trying to hide behind the rim of your cup, "that's the point of the coffee, isn't it?"

"You have a few other redeeming qualities," you chime in, struggling not to laugh at the whole situation, especially as Taz makes a show of practically preening at your decidedly backhanded praise.

"Told ya," he's outright beaming now, "loves me the most, as they should."

"As I should?" You hear the disbelief in your own voice rise as you lower your cup, crossing your free hand over your chest.

"Obviously," Taz, however, does not seem phased by your indignance, looking at you with wide, bright eyes, like it's the most simple thing in the world, "you're my makeup artist, if you loved one of them more I'd consider that a great betrayal of our bond."

Emily can no longer contain her laughter.

You take a moment to ponder and sip the coffee he'd brought you, mulling over his words.

"I've known Emily longer," you pointed out, though Taz shook his head, managing to keep his composure and keep up with the bit.

"And I've worked with other makeup artists in the past; what matters is the here and now," he says with an almost believable sincerity, "and here and now, I love you the most, and I buy you coffee, and I'm gonna be real sad if you don't say it back." Endeared by his antics, the words tumble from you -

"Of course I love you the mostest -"

"- the mostest! -" he echoes under his breath with a pleased kind of triumph.

"- the mostest? -" Emily, however, has her whole face scrunched up, muttering amid her laughter like she can't quite believe she'd heard you say that.

"Of course I love Taz the mostest -" you doubled down, now outright grinning, "not that it should have to be stated; this is a well established love affair we've got going on here, was that not clear?" Gesturing between yourself and Taz, who's once again looking particularly pleased with the bit, the two of you share an amused look before both turning to Emily in the makeup chair beside you both. She gives you both a thin, amused smile, her laughter having died down.

"Oh it's clear," she smirks at him, "considering that even Kiki won't swap trailers with me -" though there's no real malice behind it.

"You have not asked Kiki to swap with you," Taz rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "you love us."

"And we love you," you assured her, playing up the saccharine quality of your voice once more.

"But not as much as you love each other," she pointed out.

"Obviously," Taz nodded, right as you agreed;

"That goes without saying."

(Later, when you ask him how he takes his coffee, he cracks an eye open where he's relaxing as you're laying his wig for the day, slight smile on his lips, telling you that's not how this works.

Music fills the little trailer in the in-between moments, loud enough that Emily and her own makeup artist can't hear the specifics of your conversation. You give pause, waiting for the spirit gum to dry, echoing his words back to him as a question, amused at his apparent courteousness. He nods, now watching you, as if confused by your question.

"How am I meant to let you know I love you otherwise?" You snickered, playing off the earlier joke. It did the trick, however, as he huffed a quiet laugh of his own. Still, he tells you how he takes his coffee, and you, triumphant, turn to the counter for your next product.

"Or you could just say," he adds after a moment, and you can't help but freeze. You don't even need to be looking at him to hear him grinning - this moment is doing strange things to the affectionate feeling in your chest, but you do your best to ignore it. Turning back, his eyes are closed again, settled back in his seat, waiting as patient as ever.

"That's too easy," you hope he can tell you're smiling too.)

----

"I'm so sorry, love," Taz is leaning against the side of your trailer, cigarette in one hand, and blue, plastic lighter in the other, "my lighter's dead, you don't happen to have one?"

After being called in even earlier than usual to assist with Jeff's Buggy makeup for the shoot today, it takes you a moment to catch up. It takes you a moment, and a yawn, but you reach into one of the side pockets of your backpack.

"Yeah, gimme a sec," you mumble through your yawn.

"Fuckin' love you," Taz mutters gratefully, shoving his own, empty lighter into his back pocket, "I know it's a filthy habit but -"

"I don't judge," you shrug, finally handing over the lighter that had been buried in the bottom of the pocket. Instead of heading in, however, you joined him, leaning against the trailer, tipping your head back to look at the lilac sky as it began to turn gold.

The quiet spark, pop, sizzle of the cigarette isn't an unfamiliar sound given the industry you work in. Taz thanks you quietly as he hands back the lighter, and you give a tired smile in return; you had an energy drink and probably a coffee waiting in your trailer but you would rather take these few moments of peace where you could get them.

"I thought you vaped," you mused after a moment. Taz makes a noncommittal noise as he breathes out a lungful of smoke.

"Left it in the accommodation," he admitted. He offers the cigarette, but you shake your head, "probably smart, like its a bad habit, yeah, but also I don't exactly know where this came from, I found it in the bottom of my bag, it's..." he gives a thin, self deprecating smile, "questionable."

"Sounds like a you-problem, my guy," you tell him, shifting over to lean against his shoulder, closing your eyes for the moment. You hear him laugh and agree, and a comfortable silence stretches out between you.

"It definitely is," he agrees after a moment, "can I ask why you carry a lighter with you if you don't smoke? Not that I'm not grateful -"

"That's why."

"What?"

"In case someone needs a lighter."

"That's sweet, that's very lovely."

"I do try," you hum with a slight smile. After a moment, he wraps an arm around your shoulders, continuing to blow smoke into the wind, away from you.

"You doing alright, love?"

"Always," you sigh, leaning into him in the moment, "I'll be alright, I just need to get some caffeine into me."

"Coffee's waiting for you inside," he told you warmly, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

"Yeah," you mumbled, before admitting, "I like hanging out with you though."

You can't bring yourself to open your eyes and gauge his reaction, but he doesn't let you go.

(He keeps borrowing your lighter. Sometimes it's those early mornings, sometimes it's on set, during the few scenes where Sanji's smoking; before anyone else he'll come to you. You start carrying your lighter in your pocket just in case.

"So you've just given up on having a lighter of your own?" You teased, lighting the herbal cigarette they were using for filming.

"Why would I need one? I've got you," he smirks back, and damn he's just as charming in character as he is out of it. "Thanks, love," he wraps you up in a one-armed hug, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before the cast and crew is called to stand by for the shot.

Taz is the kind of affectionate you could really see yourself getting used to, and he's definitely taken notice.)

----

Between the wig, the makeup, and covering up his tattoos, Taz's spends just over an hour in your makeup chair, depending on how much of Sanji will be seen on any given day.

"Scenes like today might be my favourite," You're working diligently away, already a half hour into your routine and mind on autopilot as you take Taz's hand to keep it still while you added product to your brush. You hadn't even realised you'd said that out loud until he responded.

"Scenes like today?" His voice is gentle but amused; you can hear him smiling but can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling flustered that you'd voiced that thought at all. "Come on, love, you can't just say that, what d' you mean by that?" And it takes you a moment of deliberation to decide if you want to answer honestly, applying concealer to his tattoos as you feel yourself grow flustered.

"I like all your scenes," you mutter dismissively, "I feel lucky that I get to see so much of the show being filmed." Which isn't a lie, you're on standby on set to touch up makeup throughout the days, and you love the production and what you've seen of the show thus far... but it's also not the whole truth, and you know Taz can tell.

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, and when you look up finally, you can see the way he's smiling, but he's thankfully not looking at you. For a moment, you're glad Emily's not filming until later in the day, her call time not for several hours, so it's just you and Taz, and his playlist to fill the silence. But you make the call to swallow your embarrassment and voice the compliment that had been idling in your mind.

"I like watching you cook on set the most," you say without a hint of hesitation, and he looks to you quickly, almost like he's surprised by your honesty, but you weren't finished, "I know you've really immersed yourself in the role and put in a lot of effort and training; it really shows, especially when you fight and when you cook." There's something in the way he's looking at you that starts to overwhelm you, and you have to break the moment, break eye contact, go back to covering his tattoos or your not sure what you might do. Even your tone shifts, a little flustered, a little awkward, a little jarring after how sure you'd just been, "I, you know, I appreciate you and stuff, but you knew that."

There was a warmth to the silence that followed. When you finally sat back to grab the colour correction pallet, you could see Taz still watching you with genuine affection in his gaze.

"You're very kind," he says softly.

"Nah, it's just true," you huffed an awkward laugh.

"Don't hit me with that 'nah, it's just true' shit," he snorted, shaking his head, "you're being very kind and I appreciate that," he told you with firm honesty, matching the tone you'd addressed him with just moments ago, "lemme cook you dinner some time, 'cos I have been practicing," he agrees with pride, "and I'd take any excuse to show off, 'specially to you."

"Thought we established that I already love you, you don't have to prove anything to me," you ducked your head as you loaded your brush with product, unable to keep the grin from your face.

"Yeah, but this love-bit is a two way street."

"Okay," you said after a pause, finally meeting his gaze once more, and your smile grows wider.

"Okay?" Matching your excited energy, Taz grins widely at you, and you nod.

"Yeah, dinner, eventually," you laughed, "whenever we both are up for it. I'd really like that."

Something is... different now. Something has changed. Taz can't help but mention, as you're securing his wig, that it's going to be hard for him to think of anything but your kind words during filming today. Sheepishly you apologise, but he waves you off quickly - nothing to apologise for, he assured you.

But something is different.

(The silly, little fantasies you've been having on occasion, or more accurately, have been trying to ignore on occasion, have only gotten worse.

And more domestic.

They leave you feeling that kind of giddy-sick and unprofessional, the kind of daydreams that remind you at two in the morning that you should be sleeping and really shouldn't have a crush on your coworker.

Except you can't stop picturing small moments, like a sunlit, mid-morning, music playing on your laptop, the two of you moving around each other to make breakfast together on your day off. Or sharing quiet conversations and laughter while making dinner and -

When you both finally have a night off, he mentions how he's invited some of the other cast members to join you both. You've never been so relieved and disappointed all at once.)

----

Lines and jokes get messy and blurry; late nights on set, Taz almost falling asleep in your makeup chair as you're removing his wig for the day, nights out that both he and Emily invite you to, and a burgeoning friendship with the rest of the cast, and quiet moments spent in the back of Ubers lamenting how early you all have to get up the next day.

Usually you're the first one to bail, considering you're usually getting calling in even earlier than the cast, but some of the more responsible ones, or the other members of crew who have been roped into these various shenanigans, will split the Uber bill with you. The others all seem to understand why you have to leave early, but still, they're sad to see you leave.

What you tell absolutely none of them is that your self restraint is wearing incredibly thin when it comes to Taz already, and you know you're so close to doing something you can't take back.

Because he gets somehow more tactile when you're all out together; his arm around you, kisses your temple, your cheek, elated to see you whenever you meet up again after any amount of time. The way he laughs, the way he just talks to you, making you feel like you're the most important person in the world in the moment he gives you his focus and attention, and your brain gets all giddy and foggy when he calls you 'my love'.

So you need to leave, before you do too much, or say too much... well, too much more.

("My love -" and there it is again, his voice above the music, cutting through the crowd where he's spotted you.

"Yes, my darling Taz," you greet him with a sunny smile and open arms as an invitation to join you. Beside you in the booth, Emily and Inaki are playing slaps, and somehow neither are doing well, but thankfully they're both enjoying themselves.

Taz slides seamlessly into the booth beside you, pressed up to your side. Immediately his focus is stolen by his castmates' various yells and shrieks and slaps, and he half drapes himself across you and the table in front of you to get closer to their game. You don't even really mind, simply enjoying the moment, his proximity, and trying to figure out how long before you should head home. These three have the day off tomorrow, but you've been called in to assist with the hair and makeup for Mihawk.

"You're thinking very hard," Taz muses, as if remembering on whom he was leaning. Giving him a nudge, you grin.

"Just got work tomorrow unfortunately -"

Emily pats you sympathetically on the shoulder, Inaki immediately shouts that she's cheating, his eyes bright and wide. You push Taz back so he's no longer half-leaning over you to instead offer your shoulder to Inaki; he gives a decisive pat and declares he and Emily even, while you lament that you should probably hit the hay.

Emily and Inaki put their game on hold to say goodbye, Emily hugging you tightly and telling you to message when you got back to your accommodation, before they returned their focus to each other, and trying to pick a new game. Taz slides from the booth, giving you room to get out, and walks with you to the door.

"Surely you're not leaving," you grinned, but he's already shaking his head, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you get out onto the street.

"Making sure you make it to your taxi, or Uber, or whatever, okay."

"My hero," you teased, but still pulled out your phone to order your ride back to the hotel. Taz is humming something to himself that you can't quite pick all the while, "should be here in three minutes," you say softly, turning your attention back to him for the moment. The sight of his affectionate, smiling face has something softening in your heart - "you don't need to stay out here, I'll be fine, the bouncer's -"

"I work hard to my top ranking with you," Taz tried to muster up as much seriousness as he could, but it only served to endear you further, "no way I'm letting something happen in these three minutes and you end up liking some fuckin' bouncer more than me."

What you want to say is 'that will never happen'.

What you actually do is kiss him.)

----

It's not nothing.

This thing between you both is something, but you're not quite sure what. Because at first neither of you talk about what happens on those nights out, or how it keeps happening, but it never feels strange when you see each other at work. Still you tease each other endlessly, and there's something about the way he tries not to laugh when you're doing some kind of nonsense bit while doing his makeup, and how you'd fallen asleep against each other when Inaki invited people over to hang out and watch movies together.

Somehow after the wrap party, you, the main cast, and a few other members of the crew all ended up back at your accommodation. Most had left in the wee hours of the morning, but Inaki's passed out on your sofa, and a few of the other makeup artists had decided to squeeze into your bed like sardines, while you and Taz haven't moved from the wicker armchair on your balcony for hours.

The sunrise paints him golden in this moment you never want to end.

He's halfway through telling a story that has you practically wheezing, and you want to tell him that you'll miss him, miss these moments, miss whatever it is the two of you are, that you might actually love him, but instead what comes out is -

"You bastard, you know you've ruined me for other actors," you're beaming from ear to ear, watching the sun rise, and you hear him practically giggling as he leans against you.

"My grand plan has succeeded then."

"Grand plan?"

"Grand plan," he confirmed with a slight nod, "since I met you and you pointed at me," he points out to the horizon for emphasis, "and you said I was going to do great things with this role, even though you'd barely even met me; I've been gone for you ever since," he admitted with a snort of laughter, as if embarrassed by the recollection.

"You what?" You shifted back, eyes wide with surprise, only to be met with Taz's confused smile, like obviously.

"You've been nothing but a support this entire time, how is this a surprise?" He chuckled; seeing how obviously flustered you were becoming, his smile softened to something endeared, "you make yourself very easy to love, you know that, right?"

So much is running through your head at once, a million things you'd like to say, questions you have, what-ifs you could dwell on, but you don't.

"Oh thank god," you breathe, wrapping your arms around him, "I love you too," you're beaming until you're kissing him, this moment golden and absolutely perfect.

----

Taglist: @annssell @deadsnothere @hobbitsnapes @notdaninotfound @uncertainturquoise

#taz skylar imagine #taz skylar x reader #opla cast imagine #opla cast x reader #opla cast #opla x reader #opla imagine #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #writing tag

2K notes · View notes

itsharleystuff · 11 months

Text

↳ I. 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 𝘚𝘐𝘕𝘕𝘌𝘙

Gif not mine! | Read part two here.

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dbf!Joel Miller x afab!fem reader (no outbreak au)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After two years of absence and finally graduating college, it’s time you go back to Texas; to come home with your dad. But the prospect of facing the Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend and your secret crush, has your mind scattered.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), smoking, alcohol consumption, age gap (reader is twenty four, Joel is late forties), oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, spitting, mentions of masturbation, pet-names (sweetheart, darling), moral conflict, semi-public sex, slight dirty talk, pussy-drunk Joel, no use of y/n. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed something:)

— a/n: I honestly have tons of ideas for this particular universe, so I might make more parts if y’all like it<3 btw, reader is a fashion designer in this. Thought it might be important to mention, lol.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏

You had never met him before. Not in person, at the very least.

Up until a while ago, you'd only seen him in the pictures your dad kept hanging around the house. And he had plenty of those: both of them in college, a road-trip with other friends or even after a hunt. Of course, you'd heard a lot about him too, but whenever you visited Texas your dad would dedicate his whole days to you exclusively. No time to visit his best friend-slash-neighbor, despite all the opportunities presented.

So the first time you ever saw him face to face was two years ago, in a Fourth of July barbecue he hosted.

Joel Miller.

Joel mother-fucking Miller.

Tall, broad, rugged looking, moody and with a seemingly stern exterior. An absolute dilf.

You always found him rather appealing— nothing but a silly little thought from whenever you would stare at the photographs. But meeting him personally was a whole eye-opening experience, like getting glasses after discovering you’ve had astigmatism your entire life.

"He liked you, y'know?" your dad had told you the next day. "Joel isn't usually that nice."

"Maybe it's because I'm your daughter," you joked. "I bet that helped with my impression."

"No," said him, laughing and shaking his head, "it was something else."

You didn't interrogate him on the matter. Whatever it was, you sure were glad to be in his grace.

That summer you saw a lot of him— specially since it was the longest you had spent in Austin ever since your mom passed away. You were twenty two at the time, right in the middle of your college studies. But the amazing thing about Joel was that he never made you feel patronized, neither did he treat you like you had to fit in the 'best friend's daughter' box. He was nice and made you feel comfortable in all ways possible.

Frankly, deep down you wanted him to be an asshole. If that were the case, you could've had the perfect excuse to push him away. Instead, your crush simply grew stronger.

Because, fucking hell, the man was hot in a striking, yet brooding manner. Joel Miller was attractive in the way a man is supposed to be attractive. Which was quite a contrast compared to the boys that usually neared you, who had no sense of themselves and were always fooling around with no idea what they were doing.

It was so bad that even now, after two years without seeing him —or your dad, for that matter— you feel anxious and eager at the thought of a reunion.

You're now officially graduated, and after a lifetime of traveling the states to visit both your parents, added to four years of college in New York, it's finally time to settle down for a while. To move in with your dad and make up for the lost time.

"Are you really going to stay in Texas?" Sophie, your best friend, asked through the phone speaker. "After all these years in the big city?"

"Yeah, I ought to stay with him. After all, we're the only family we've got," you replied, staring out the window of the cab. "When I told him I was coming he got so excited, you should've heard him. He said he'd throw me a homecoming party, can you believe that? Who's even going to attend?"

You hear her giggle on the other side. "What about that Mr. Miller you always brag so much about?"

"What about him?" you wondered with half strained voice.

"Oh, don't play coy, honey," she mocks. "We both know how much you want him to give you a sweet old Texan welcome."

"I have no idea what that is," you respond, smiling.

"I just made it up. No idea what they do in the south. I'm from Brooklyn." Of course she made it up. "But I meant it's pretty obvious how much you want his head between your legs..."

"Okay, yeah- I get it." You interrupt, starting to see familiar houses from your dad's neighborhood. "You're right. But he's... Righteous. Apparently."

"Sweetie, let's be honest," Sophie talks softly, "no man is righteous. Just show them a bit of skin and they'll be wrapped around your finger forever."

"I'm not sure I-"

"Try it. And keep me updated," she mumbles hastily. "I've got to go now. I have an appointment with the Ralph Lauren executives in ten minutes."

"Treat them nicely, Sophie. Don't waste my recommendation letter," the girl laughs.

"Yeah, yeah... I'm serious about Miller, though. Be sure to wear something low-cut. Bye, bye!"

She hangs up right when you're outside the house; the one you knew so well and at the same time felt so unknown. The one where you spend each summer and occasional holiday in. Your childhood home. Oddly enough, the door is open but you can't see your dad anywhere near. You hoped he'd be around to help you with the luggage, though it didn't seem like it.

"Dad?" You call for him from the entrance, carrying both heavy suitcases. "Anyone here?!"

The faint noise of footsteps is barely audible before you see him leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed over his sturdy chest.

Breathtaking.

"M'not your old man but pretty sure I can help you with that," he says with that characteristic Texan drawl of his, gesturing towards your cases.

"But if it isn't Joel Miller in the flesh," he tilts his head with a faint smile, approaching your side. "You haven't aged a day since I last saw you."

It was true. Perhaps his skin looked a bit more tan, his hair somewhat longer and curlier, his beard starting to gray. But everything else remained the same. He smelled just like you remembered —fresh soap and musky cologne—, and still held onto the same mode choices: flannels, boots and dark jeans.

"Quite the opposite to ya," he says, taking both your suitcases from your hands. "I like your new hair."

"Are you implying I look old?" Joel grins smudgily.

"None of that, darlin'. I'd say mature." His words manage to make your pulse raise. "Shall I take this upstairs?"

"Yeah, I- I'll walk you to my room," he chuckles as he steps on the stairs. "What?"

The man shakes his head as he makes his way to the second floor, followed closely by you. Nothing about this house seemed different. Nevertheless, you felt different.

"Nothing. S'just..." he takes a deep breath, but changes the subject quickly. "Your dad went to the store to get some beers. He'll be back any second."

You nod, opening the door to your dorm. It was exactly the same as it was two years ago, simply tidier and with a poster that read 'welcome home and happy graduation' in messy, colorful handwriting over your bed.

"He made that himself. Though, I've gotta say, I'm glad he didn't pursue an artistic career." You both laugh at the comment.

"A for effort." Joel sets your luggage next to the doorframe, being monitored by your keen eye. "Will I see you tonight? I know you're not a big fan of social gatherings."

"Your dad'll kill me if I'm not. He's got me here since ten o'clock to help him out." You look up at him, feeling vaguely nostalgic when watching your surroundings. "But I'm also hoping we'll catch up. I'd like to hear all about your adventures in the big city, aight?"

"Oh, I'm not sure you'd like that," you retort. "I'm afraid you'll see a side of me you might disapprove of."

Joel's brows shot up in a cocky expression. "And here we were all thinking you were such a nice girl. Forget 'bout me, sweetheart. Your old man would drop dead if he gets the news."

You can't hold back the smirk that spreads across your face as you look him dead in the eye. Truth be told, you had wished for him to change, in any sort of way. Maybe if he had gotten a couple more wrinkles or grey hairs you'd be able to not find him attractive anymore. But age suited Joel. Maybe if he stopped being so warm to you, so kind, it might be able to fade away.

'Righteous', you'd called him.

But he isn't so much. No man ever is.

In your last visit you weren't bold enough with him, but each time you'd say something slightly suspicious, every occasional brush or brief skin to skin contact during a shared moment, had an effect on him. He reacted to you, even if he thought you wouldn't know. Sure, he was well restrained and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you weren't actually looking for any signs. That didn’t change the facts, anyway.

"I've never really been much of a nice girl, to be honest," you retaliate, dragging the words. "But I bet you can keep a secret, can't you?"

Something in your voice causes him to unconsciously stop breathing. His brows knit together and it takes him a second to regain composure. However, he doesn't get to say a thing, your dad's voice suddenly floating from the floor beneath.

With your blood rushing, you practically flee downstairs, seeing his face change completely at the sight of his beloved daughter.

"You're here early, what the heck?" The man mumbles with a kindhearted smile, embracing you in a tight hug.

"Figured I might surprise you." The boxes of beer he bought were quickly discarded when he saw you. "So, are you surprised?"

"Very. But I was supposed to pick you up at the airport. Did you take a cab?"

"Don't worry about that," you reassure with a gesture. "It was included in the airport bill."

"Oh, man..." your dad turns to see his friend, "you leavin' already?"

"I have to pick up Sarah," he explains, peeking at his watch. "She had soccer practice today."

"Can I expect to see her later, too?"

Joel nods at your question, faintly beaming. "F'course. She loves you."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

Shortly after Miller's departure your dad sent you off to bed, arguing that you were probably tired. And even if you wanted to stay and chat with him for a while, you had to admit he wasn't mistaken. Either way, you still had the rest of the day —and plenty more ahead— to do that. Besides, he still needed to sort some things out before the party.

So, without unpacking or undoing your bed, you slept for hours, dreaming about how your new life was going to be.

(...)

When you finally woke up, night had already fallen. Your dad mustn't have wanted to wake you, but it made you feel in a rush to get ready. You took a cold shower and kept your makeup neutral in order to be quick. Furthermore, Sophie's advice to wear something low-cut was taken under consideration.

Judging by the noise coming from the backyard, you guessed the guests had already started to arrive. You heard talking and music, aside from smelling the hamburgers your dad was preparing. There were kids running around and a couple of people chatting in the living room when you entered, setting all eyes on you.

You knew most of them, neighbors and friends of your dad's. They immediately monopolized your attention, asking questions regarding your career life, reasons why you chose your major and saying how much your dad loved and missed you. It wasn't bad, you liked the courtesy and praise; nonetheless, in the back of your mind you were solely expecting the Millers' arrival.

After a while, you excuse yourself and decide to join your dad outside, stepping onto the fresh air.

"How's everything here?" you ask friendly. "Need any help?"

He was surrounded by some other of his pals, all of whom you'd met in your last visit, except for one– still, you couldn't help but think that he had a familiar air.

"We're alright, honey." You greet them all with a smile as your dad hooks an arm over your shoulders, offering a beer that you decided to decline.

"My niece was right," said the man you didn't know. "You're quite beautiful." He spoke subtly and on the right lines, giving you a affectionate smile.

"Ah- I don't believe you've met Tommy," your dad chimed in. "He's Joel's younger brother."

"Oh, yeah..." you remembered, "he mentioned you last time I came. It's nice to finally meet you."

Now that you saw him up-close, he did resemble his brother in a certain way. There was something very emblematic that all the Millers had, a sparkle in their eyes that you picked-up on Sarah, but that enchanted you in—

"Speak of the devil..." your head jerked to the side, watching as your most expected guests come to join you.

"My goodness!" you speak in surprise, sharing a hug with Joel's daughter. "You've grown so much in the last two years... You're even taller than me now and I'm wearing heels." The girl giggles, charming as always. "Didn't you just turn seventeen?"

"A month ago," she answers. "But let's not talk about that, it makes dad feel old."

"Joel?" You look behind her, locking glances with him. "But he's in his prime!" he rolls his eyes sardonically.

"Come on, sunshine," Tommy says, "you know it's not polite to make fun of the elderly."

They laugh and you can vaguely hear your dad scolding him, but don't really pay attention to it as they go back to their conversation. In the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of his smile.

He looked handsome. To you, he always did. Tonight, however, he decided to change the flannels for an olive button up shirt and a black leather jacket. His curls seemed carefully styled and he smelled of sandalwood.

"By the way," you address Sarah, "I brought you something from New York. It's one of my designs..."

"Seriously?" Her whole face lit up at your words. "You know how much I love your work!"

"Yeah, thought you might like it. But I'll give it tomorrow. I haven't unpacked and my things are real a mess."

"That reminds me." The girl turns to Joel. "Did you bring it?" he nods and takes a small box from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to her.

"What's that?" you question out of curiosity.

"I got you a lil' present," Sarah answered.

"You, did what?" Joel countered with a reproachful tone.

"I mean- I chose a present..." the man clears his throat and she rolls her eyes. "We chose a present, which he payed for. Buuut, it was my idea so-"

His dad snorts and shakes his head, turning to chat with the rest of the men. The younger one drags you away to have some privacy, taking a solitary spot under the big apple tree. During your conversation, you discuss the details of your so called 'highlife' and open the tiny box they gifted, finding a shiny ring sitting on the bottom.

"Do you like it?" You grin and nod in response, deciding to put it on in that same instant. "Dad noticed you like wearing lots of rings.”

Joel noticed.

"I love it," you remark. "Thank you. Both."

Your eyes drift to the crowd gathered around the grill, men laughing and sharing beers. The surprising part was that when you finally found your target, he was already staring at you. If he was expecting you to notice or not, there was no sign. But the older one held your lingering glance and everything else seemed to fade away, suddenly becoming white noise in the background. There was a challenging fire behind his brown orbs, kind of like he was saying 'I know what you're doing and I can do it too'.

"So," you turn back to Sarah with a strange, thrilling sensation in the pit of your stomach, "what's up with you? How's high school?"

"Boring. You know the drill."

"And the boys?" she almost looks flustered at the question.

"Complicated. Bet you know all ‘bout that." Your brows furrow slightly.

"What gave you that idea?"

"Just an impression," her fingers fidget nervously.

You shrug, deciding to change the subject. "You're graduating soon... Have you decided on any universities yet?"

"Not quite," she sighs. "I'm worried about my dad, really. I don't want him to feel alone if I move out."

A sly smile parts your lips. "He won't be. There's my dad, your uncle and... Me. I'll make him a Tinder profile. He'll be fine."

Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. "He talks about you, y'know?"

"What, Joel?" you ask in a sarcastic tone, cocking an eyebrow at her. "Hard to believe."

"It's true! I think he admires you, in a way..."

With a hand gesture, you stop her. "Are we talking about the same man here?"

"Ask him. He might deny it, but it's often your name is brought up in conversations," she unfolds. "When you got that internship in Ralph Lauren, the articles you've written, magazines you've appeared in..."

"It sounds extremely rare for someone like your dad would be interested in the fashion industry. Even if it's just for me, cause I'm certain my own dad is the one forcing all this information onto him."

"Maybe," Sarah agrees. "Whatever it may be, I'm sure he'll be alright if you're around. At least happy, I think."

⩇⩇:⩇⩇✧˖°

The kitchen was a good shelter from all the gossip and noisy kids that turned out to be overwhelming after some time. No one came in there unless they needed to; and as of now they all seemed more concerned with other sorts of business. Besides, it was pretty late and most people had already headed home.

A bottle of wine was opened and poured into a glass, accompanied by a Marlboro cigarette from the depths of your purse, enjoying them while watching the night sky through the window. All your mind could think about was him and his odd behavior: Joel picking up on details, Joel talking about you with Sarah. Him. Just him.

"Am I interrupting somethin'?" you shake your head without looking back, recognizing his voice.

He walks over to you silently. The man is somehow very silent for someone so big, to the point where you didn't even listen when he opened the door. He leans against the counter, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth even if you're not seeing him.

"Want some?" you ask, raising your half-empty glass of red liquid and whipping your body to face him, standing shoulder to shoulder, closing the curtain in the meantime.

"Thanks," he mutters, showing his can of beer, “m'not that fancy." You titter, taking a short drag from the dart. "I'll have one of those, if you can spare."

With the fag between your teeth, you take the pack of smokes from your bag and hand it to him, shooting an inquiry expression.

"What?" he asks with an arrogant beam.

"Nothing..." your voice comes out weird from holding back laughter as you take the lighter in your fist. "I just didn't know you smoked."

He takes one to his lips, keeping close eye contact with you all the while. The action sends a rush of excitement throughout your whole body as you duck forward to burn the unlit end, staring back at him with hooded eyes.

"I rarely do," he admits, setting the package aside.

If he wasn't hot enough already, the practiced mannerisms he had when smoking simply added to his sultriness.

"Why you hiding?" you wonder, ashing the cigarette over the sink.

"Not hidin'. Just sent Sarah home, but I wanted to catch you before leavin'."

It didn't surprise you, they lived across the street and, after all, he did say he wanted to talk.

"Did I mention how handsome you look today?" He sneers shortly.

"Well, my daughter was very clear 'bout not wanting me to wear flannels around a fashion designer." Joel takes a sip from his drink, holding the cig between his fingers.

"She gives me too much credit," you say, a bit embarrassed.

"You deserve it," the man replies grimly. "And you look absolutely beautiful, too. One of yours?"

His eyes briefly set on your chest, for such a short second that you actually believed you had probably imagined it. The dress you chose for the occasion was one of your first designs; pearl colored, cinched from the waist above and slightly loose over your thighs.

"Yes," you gulp, diverting your gaze to the glass on your hand. "So how's everything 'round here?" Joel shrugs his shoulders with indifference.

"'S alright. Same as always," he meditates on it. "Boring without you to keep us entertained."

You utter a mocking snort. "Do my silly little experiences really entertain you?"

The older one tilts his head to blow some smoke. "You always talk so freely about your dreams and the goals you've accomplished. And your dad's enthusiasm is contagious, I might say." He licks his bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know... I'm glad someone close is doing all 'at. Feels like you ain't afraid of anything."

His words put a bright smile on your face. "Life's a risk, isn't it? Better be bold if you want to end up somewhere."

He huffs a laugh, nodding in agreement. A comfortable silence veils between you as you enjoy the alcohol and cigarettes. It was always nice to hang out with him like this.

"By the way, how are you holding up?" the question clasps his curiosity. "Parenting a teenager can be quite difficult, I've heard."

"Jesus," he grunts, "it's driving me insane. Not her per say, but the whole 'boy talk' 's just too much."

"I bet," you chortle, "although, I wouldn't worry too much. It's just a phase."

"Yeah?" Joel scoffs. "You gon' tell me you ain't got tons of guys chasing around ya' anymore?"

"Oh, they're there," your tone matches his energy. "All these old ladies kept trying to introduce me to their sons a couple hours ago. Nevertheless, I gotta say..." He leaves the empty can on the bar across him. "Boys make me sick."

His eyes widen in surprise, but the rest of his face remained in composure. "How so?"

The atmosphere swiftly changes, a kind of heated tension rising to the top, palpable in your fingertips and waving in his chest.

"I've had my fair share of them," you explain playfully. "Guys my age never know what they want or what they're doing. I've decided to change my focus to men, instead."

He knows what you're up to. You can tell he does.

The question is: will he take the bait?

"Meaning?" Joel's lips curve around the orange filter in a smug smirk. You jerk your head to the right, setting the glass of wine aside.

"I'm not sure..." he laughs dryly at your hesitation.

"I think you are, sweetheart."

The abiding silence that followed that statement was nothing but electrifying. Clouds of burning tobacco linger around as you share an intense gaze, creating a solemn, intriguing ambience.

"Well, how am I supposed to tell you, out of all people, that I'm looking to get attended by an older man?" you rag. "Don't you think it's inappropriate?"

"Mhm," his grin is still visible under the dim, warm lights in the kitchen, "clever girl. I see what you're tryin' to do."

"I don't know what you mean," you murmur, scowling and intending to sound clueless.

He doesn't buy it.

"No-uh. You're many things, darlin', but dumb isn't one." He leans forward, his face barely inches away from yours, eyes scanning your features. Eventually, he decides to keep playing your little game. "Why's that, anyway?"

"See, Joel," you blow some smoke right under his nose, "boys I've been with always take. Everything's gotta be about themselves. I've never been the type to believe in relationships, but if they're gonna suck at that too, the least they could do is make you cum, not leave you drier than a fucking desert." Your words daze his mind and he finds himself pending for something that he wasn't supposed to. "Shit- I'm sorry... I shouldn't talk like this."

"Damn right you shouldn't," he rasps out, "what would your dad think if he heard you?"

Joel Miller never considered himself a weak man. Not once in his life. It's not who he is.

But right now, under your curious, passionate gape, he's slowly crumbling.

"Good thing you aren't my dad, then."

His heart is pounding in expectation and confusion. He keeps thinking 'this can't be happening'. He tries to convince himself that it's all in his mind, like he did last time you were in Austin. But you bat your pretty eyelashes at him an it feels like you're begging to be taken away.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you know what you're asking for," he talks strictly, like you wouldn't actually understand. "Say this things to the wrong person and they might take advantage of you."

You laugh under your breath. "Are you the wrong person?"

He remains silent for a couple seconds, contemplating your question, meditating this whole parade in order to keep his head cold and ignoring the increasing heat that soared all around.

"M'not sure," he huffs.

It's true. He doesn't know anymore.

Your cig has burned out.

"I think you are, Mr. Miller."

Oh, such a clever girl indeed.

Suspense is killing him, like he's walking on the edge of a blade. Your closeness is intoxicating, the smell of your perfume gets him dizzy and his skin burned there where your limbs brushed against each other's. His lungs felt like crushing under the weight of anticipation.

"Quit beating around the bush," he downright demands. "Tell me what you want."

Honesty is a virtue; one you didn't lack with him.

"You," his chest puffs with a shaky breath. "Ever since we first met, you've been the only man on my mind."

Dangerous. This whole situation is dangerous.

But Joel would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same. That was the worst part of it.

For little more than a decade he had been perfectly content with his singleness; the sole thought of going on a date being absolutely terrifying. His best friend did try to set him up with a couple of his female acquaintances multiple times; yet he declined or merely accepted out of sympathy, never taking things further than a one night stand. Joel never expected that the one woman that would grasp his attention would be you.

He had never been into younger girls, at least not that young. But there was something enchanting about you. Whether it was your charming smile, your cunning eyes or your confident, determined nature that made all heads turn in your direction when you walked into a place.

Something about you bewitched him.

Perhaps it was none of that and he was simply depraved. Perhaps it was all of that and more.

For all he knew, you could've put a spell on him. Since your last visit, you had been on his mind like a mist that fogged his senses. He felt torn apart by his morals and desires, trying his best to get rid of the ghost of you.

That was until your dad told him you were coming back to stay for an undefined amount of time. What kind of sick game was fate playing with him?

"You tryin' to get me killed?" he locks a snarl behind his teeth.

His cigarette has burned out too.

"I know I'm asking for much," you say, "that I put you in a difficult position. With my dad and all 'at." Swallowing hard, you muster enough courage to raise a hand to his jacket, just laying your palm flat there. He allows it. "So I understand if you say no. You can decline and we’ll just act like nothing happened."

If Joel were a better man, he would've.

He definitely should have.

"It's okay. I can always call the next older lad on my hotline," you joke. "Your brother Tommy... I think he'll be interested."

He'd be damned.

No. Joel was just a man, and like every other, he could only take so much.

Quicker than you'd expect, his hand catches your wrist and moves your arm away from his body, the other raising your head up with two fingers under your chin. His face is so close to yours that his breath tickles your skin.

"Is that so?" his voice drops an octave. "You disappoint me, sweetheart."

Your legs quiver, feeling suddenly weak on the knees and hot on your lower abdomen. "How?"

His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, staring down at you as if he had you wrapped around his finger. Truth be told, he really did.

"Thought there was a bit more fight in ya'," he whispers, letting go of your hand and laying his palm flat on your hip. "I haven't yet given my answer and you're already thinking of fucking my brother?"

You lick your lips nervously, glancing at his own and then back at his eyes. Your breathing pattern is completely altered and the ache between your legs starts to grow.

"Or was that just to tease me?" he asks with a grin.

"I don't know..." your hands clench in fists, wanting to touch him but wallowing in this new power dynamic. "Maybe."

"That's rather vague, darling." He takes a step forward, eradicating the distance that separated your bodies. "I'll ask again..." his fingers curl around your throat, not applying pressure but merely holding you in place. "What do you want?"

It's too late to look back now. Though you wouldn't think of it. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

Music to his ears.

He doesn't respond, eyes boring into yours intently. The unholy words that you spoke scatter his brain and all he wants to do is accept. But he wouldn't indulge so easily. If you wanted to play games, he'd teach you how to play better.

You tilt your head upwards, searching for his mouth with limited mobility. Your eyes briefly close at the feeling of your lips barely brushing against his own, waiting for him to kiss you. Except he does not, simply caressing the soft flesh teasingly.

Joel's body is flushed against yours, keeping you caged between the counter and him. The hand that rested on your hip gradually travels to your ass, splaying his fingers over your covered butt and giving a firm squeeze that makes you squeal. Every breath he takes is the very air you breathe. The proximity and his scent are slowly —but surely— making you lose your sanity.

"Such a pretty girl," he mutters hoarsely, "with such filthy thoughts." You look at him through heavy lids, gaining enough courage to move your hands to his broad chest. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Please, just- kiss me." The plea is so desperate and pathetic that it doesn't even sound like you.

"Can't do," he says at last. "If you want to be treated like a slut, you'll get treated like one. Sluts don't get kissed." You feel yourself get wet with his attitude, trying to clench your thighs together in order to create some friction. "I can't give you what you want, sweetheart. Not tonight, at least."

His lips move to your jawline, tracing open-mouthed kisses along your bare neck and collarbones that have you panting in seconds, his facial hair scratching your skin deliciously before coming back up again.

"But don't worry, angel," he pours into the shell of your ear, "I'll make sure you cum, since you want it so bad."

"Fuck, Joel-" you stutter when he abruptly spins your body around, his growing bulge grinding against your lower back.

His face nuzzles on the crook of your neck as his hand roams over your thigh, leisurely making its way beneath your dress. You feel his teeth lightly scraping your flesh, the hardness of his crotch poking your ass and your own arousal pooling in your panties.

"Jesus..." he groans when his fingers reach the dampness between your legs. "I've barely touched you and you're already soaked."

"I meant it when-" your sentence gets muffled by a strangled moan that escapes your lips, "when I said I've been wanting you for so long."

His body vibrates with a laugh, ruffling your hair with his breath. He starts rubbing small circles on your clit, making your whole body shiver and squirm while he pushes the fabric aside, gathering your slick with his index and spreading it all the way back to your bud, repeating his actions until your arousal covered his knuckles.

"Wanna know a lil' secret?" his voice comes out soothing and husky as he eases two digits inside you, stretching you out in a way that makes both of you groan. "I felt the same."

His fingers are thicker, bigger and rougher than yours, adding to a new, unlocked satisfaction you had not yet experienced.

Joel took his time to explore the spots that provided more pleasure, that had your hips chasing him and biting your lip to refrain from making noise. His other hand gropes your breast, caressing your delicate nipple over the thin fabric, easily done due to the lack of a bra. He keeps altering his ministrations, collecting the wetness from your core and bringing it up to your bundle of nerves, prior to sliding into your cunt again. All that can be heard in the kitchen are the squelching, utterly pornographic sounds of your pussy and your pitiful whines, inaudible to everyone but him.

"You like this, sweetheart?" he hums, feeling your sticky arousal drip down your thighs, rejoicing in your responsiveness to him. "Being fingered by a man twice your age while your dad's just a few steps away?"

You squeeze his thick fingers, picturing just how big his cock must be just from the boner pressing your back. "Y-yes..."

He simply loves the way he's got you so needy, coming undone with so little. You were easy to please, so he wondered how awful your past lovers must've been if they couldn't get you wet. A primal instinct surges on Joel, wanting to erase all of them from your mind, as he wanted to be the only man you ever think about if you're having an orgasm.

"That's my girl," he coos, thrusting his fingers at a nice pace, curling them upwards to hit that soft spot that made your knees tremble.

You hold onto the counter for dear life, throwing your head back and laying it on his chest. He sighs every time your cunt tightens around his digits, mesmerized by your enticing cries and whimpers that had him painfully hard in his jeans. The sensation is overwhelming, adrenaline filling both of you at the prospect of getting caught.

A burning sensation builds on your lower belly, tiny beads of sweat rolling down your temple at the incoming crescendo. His thumb kneads over your clit with the right amount of pressure and your body gives in to him, all tension melting away as your muscles relax.

"Just like that, darling." His deep voice reverberates through you, holding you up by the grip on your waist. "Take what I give you."

"Joel, Joel, Joel-" he chuckles once again at your delirious state, biting down the sensitive skin on your neck as he helps you carry out your high.

He pulls his fingers out and you mewl in complaint, mouth slightly agape. You can't see his face but you watch as he takes both his sticky fingers to his mouth, your chest rising and falling while trying to regain composure. He licks them clean, savoring your sweet taste and feeling his cock twitch from the mere idea of his tongue exploring your folds, taking that same flavor straight from the source.

"I'm not done with you," he growls, swirling your body around.

He's fucked up now. He has found his own, favorite drug between your thighs and can’t seem to stop himself from getting it. He had a small taste and now craved for more like he was a famished man.

"Can I get a kiss now?" Joel finds your insistence amusing.

Those eyes of yours were driving him insane, staring at him wildly, sparkling with an etching desire. Your lips were plumped and glossy, cheeks flushed red and hands fisting his shirt. Seeing this side of you was like displaying one of his darkest fantasies, the kind that would randomly appear in his dreams and had him waking up guilty and needy.

"No," he grumbles, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to glance up at him. "Open up."

You obligue without hesitation, parting your lips shamelessly— which further spurs him on—. Almost instinctively, you already know what he's going to do, catching that inquiring look in his darkened eyes. With a light tap to his chest, you give him the green light and he spits right into your mouth. You don't think about it twice; in fact, you can't even process what you're actually doing, unconsciously swallowing down while keeping eye contact.

"Good girl," he purrs, caressing the side of your face with gentle stokes of his thumb.

His voice and praise send you to oblivion, managing to give you goosebumps. But Joel won't allow you to catch a break, glueing his lips to the hollow of your throat and making his way down, down, down, until he's kneeling before you, feeling the way you tense and shake for him. He grips your body strongly, the pads of his thumbs dipping on your hipbones as he rests his forehead on your lower abdomen, taking a deep breath in. Your hands run through his curls, tenderly grazing his scalp with your nails.

The man feels as if he's wasted; your scent, all around him, on him, intoxicating every fiber on his body. He'd be haunted by it, by you, in the upcoming days.

He reaches beneath the hem of your dress, fingers skating along the band of your panties and tugging them down at a tortuous pace, meanwhile his eyes pierce your soul. Joel lets the drenched underwear pool at your ankles and drags the thin, satiny fabric all the way up to your tummy, inhaling sharply at the sight of your sticky slick covering your inner thighs.

"Fuck..." he touches you like you're sacred, like he was granted permission to do so but couldn't fully believe it. "Jesus Christ, you're beautiful," he mumbles when he coaxes your legs apart.

You blush at the comment, growing partially embarrassed. A shadow of pure lust covers his gaze as he stares at your exposed, wet cunt. He basks in the view of your damp skin and swollen clit, feeling his mouth water and his pants strain.

"Joel-"

"Forgive me, darlin'. Been a while since I..." he clears his throat, trying to regain hold of himself, "since I went down on a woman."

Your fingers tangle on his locks and you give him a reassuring smile. "You don't have to-"

"But I want to," Joel blurts out. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. Would you allow me to?"

Did he even need to ask?

"Yes- god. Please..."

It's all he had to hear. He leaves small kisses on your swollen lips, taking pleasure in your silent gasps as his mouth inched closer to your clit. Your hips buck against his face when his tongue finally landed on that sensitive bundle of nerves, making you moan a bit louder.

"Fucking hell," you babble, gripping his hair tighter.

He groans, his tongue flattening above your delicate bud and sucking on it. Joel can see in your face how hard you're trying to refrain from making any noise, your brows slightly furrowed and mouth partially open as you throw your head back. His chest swells with pride, knowing he's the one making you feel this good.

Then you have to hold yourself up when he suddenly hooks one hand around your calf and lifts your leg, placing it over his shoulder to keep you open for him. His face buries between your thighs, tongue sliding across your wet folds and savoring your arousal mixed with your previous release. He uninhibitedly whimpers, lapping up the slick that kept pouring out of you, devouring your pussy like he had never had anything as good.

The man can't take it anymore, he's reached his limit. One of his hands snake down to fumble at his belt, as he sloppily palms his bulge through the briefs, trying to get some relief. He's drunk, feral, when he eats you out most earnestly, finding your weak spots rather quickly— the ones that made you shiver, that made you shut your eyes from sheer pleasure or grind against his face, but specially the ones that had you tugging harshly at his hair.

"Joel- please, I'm so close..." you cry out lowly, the only thing that kept you standing being his hand on your waist.

His beard makes your skin feel feverish and it's nearly impossible for you to hold back a whine when his nose grazes your clit and right in that instant you're coming hard, nerves buzzing and ears ringing. You feel lightheaded, white spots appearing in front of your eyes as the orgasm rips through you intensely. He drinks you down, licking you clean as if it was a crime not to, and you gasp at the overstimulation.

He helps you steady yourself as he gets back on his feet, hovering above you. His lips were shining with saliva and your own juices, dripping down to his chin. You breathe rapidly, pulse still racing while you look up at him with glassy eyes.

It's right in this moment when Joel knows for certain that he'd do it all again, consequences be damned.

If he was going to hell for what he'd done, then he would gladly do it, knowing that he had seen heaven the moment his tongue was inside you.

"Did I live up to your expectations, sweetheart?"

Instead of replying, your hand shoots to his jaw, the pad of your thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He lets out a shaky exhale and you don't miss the opportunity to finally lean in for a kiss. And despite his previous declines to your wish, Joel happily corresponded. You taste him and yourself when his mouth explores yours in depth, feeling his unsteady heartbeat against your own chest.

It's madness; a blur of wet, messy kisses as your hand coasts down his pants and underneath his briefs. You swallow down his lewd moans when you grasp his throbbing length, a deep groan coming from his throat when you circle the tip with one finger, coating it with his leaking precome. He takes your wrist to prevent you from going any further.

"Enough of that," he grunts, still not pushing your hand away. "I'm too worked up, I don't wanna be coming in my pants like a goddamned teenager."

You respect his decision, drawing your hand back and guiding your fingers to your lips with a cheeky smile. Fucking tease.

"I think it'd be hot," you murmur, dragging the words and leaning next to his ear. "Maybe afterwards I can help you clean up the mess..." you carefully nip at his earlobe, delighting in the way his body jumped and a sigh escaped him. "With my mou-"

"Fuuuck..." the mental image you were describing was not helping his situation. "We- we’ll do that next time.”

And before you can move a muscle, he gives you a soft forehead kiss and rearranges his pants, asking you to say goodbye to your dad in his behalf as he sneaked out. You stand there for a couple of minutes, dumbfounded and completely blown away from your post-orgasm bliss, still processing that all this had actually happened and it was not just another of your sexual fantasies and daydreams.

Joel was in a similar position. In spite of taking a cold shower and fucking his fist in the meantime, tonight's events kept being relived every time he closed his eyes, making him yearn for you all over again. It was a tough night of not much sleeping.

He thinks he might feel guilty in the morning.

Maybe he should. But he honestly doesn't.

Not even when he faces your dad the next day and he tells him how happy he is to have his darling daughter back home.

Nor do you. There's not a hint of guilt in your body when you go to his house in the next few days, solely to spend time with Sarah. No shame in the looks you share, regardless of the little to zero time you could spend together, always being surrounded by other people.

None of that mattered. All the while, the only question that roams your minds is: when will you do it again?

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #dbf!joel

1K notes · View notes

imbored1201 · 4 months

Note

do you think you could do a mapi, alexia or lucy x teen!reader where reader is really rude and arrogant and has to run extra laps all the time or is grounded at home (because she lives with someone from the team) and then she gets tired and sad because of all the stress and apologises (and then gets lots of hugs)?

Love You No Matter What

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Word count: 2.6k

You knew it took a lot of deal with you, and you also knew the only reason Jonatan hasn't let you go was because Alexia didn't want to give up on you.

She was determined to get your attitude right. You were an amazing player, but those actions of yours were going to be your downfall, and she knew it. You came in as a prodigy; at just 15, people always said you were a mini-Alexia. That alone was a lot to carry.

So she knew half of that attitude came from that stress, like after a long media day or a bad game, you were snappier than usual. The other half was just you trying to get on her nerves, and it always worked.

You were a teenager; she knew you shouldn't already have those media people talking about how you had to lead the team, just like Alexia did now that she's injured.

Unfortunately for her, the attitude just got worse when the team started relying on you more. With all the injuries, they had no choice but to. But after your first game as a starter, you got into a little arguing match with the referee and got carded in the first 20 minutes.

They declared Barcelona had to focus on another youngster to be the future of their team because you would become nothing with how you acted.

The whole arguing with the referee thing wasn't actually the main reason for those reactions; it was the fact that you were arguing with Mapi and Alexia after the game. Of course, everyone recorded the heated argument, and you said some pretty harsh things that was able to be heard in the video.

Your reasoning was you were already angry with yourself for the card, and Alexia and Mapi yelling at you after the game didn't help, especially Mapi grounding you. You were living with her and Ingrid after Alexia's last surgery. Alexia just couldn't deal with the stress of worrying about you anymore and wondering if she would still be the same player she used to be. You had tried to be kind and comfort her about it, but you were absolutely terrible at comforting people.

You would sneak out at night, making her call Keira and Lucy to look for you at 3 a.m. You would sneak people over, which turned into her yelling at them and threatening to call the cops on them.

Everyone knew when you gave Alexia a hard time because of the tough training she would give you after. It also helped her a lot since you had less energy and slept longer, giving her more time to do things in peace.

————

Your last outburst was Alexia's last straw. Not only did you get yourself a red, but you left early instead of waiting in the locker room for the game to end.

You couldn't imagine the heart attack you had given her when she came into the locker room 10 minutes before the game ended to scold you. When the girls came in, they were met with a panicking Alexia on her phone, pacing back and forth.

Alexia couldn't drive right now due to her leg, so she was picking up rides with Ingrid, Mapi, and you, but you just sat in silence with your headphones on and ignored everyone.

"Where's Y/n?" Ingrid asked, looking around for you. "She's gone!" Alexia yelled, panicking. Mapi put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "Alexia, calm down; she always does this; she'll meet us at the house."

"What do you mean she always does this!" Alexia yelled as everyone went to shower.

"She just gets frustrated and leaves. Me and Mapi have tried to talk to her about it since it isn't safe, but she just gets defensive about it. We've learned to just let her go as long as she gets back within an hour."

"And you just let her!" Alexia was angry with them; it was dangerous for you to be out there on your own.

"We've tried Alexia, but yelling at her just makes everything worse. She's never gone long; trust me, she'll be at the house," Mapi told her as she got her bag ready. The sooner they got home, the sooner Alexia would calm down.

————

Mapi and Ingrid were wrong, so wrong. You weren't there. Alexia went back to her pacing while trying to call you, while Ingrid went out to look for you. Mapi, poor Mapi. She was stuck on the couch with her leg on a pillow, forced to watch her captain freak out.

"She's fine, Alexia; that kid is tough." Alexia scoffed. "She could be in jail for all we know, and knowing her, she probably is in jail." Alexia now started to call the jails.

Mapi rolled her eyes at Alexia's actions as she turned on the TV. "She'll be fine; I had my buddy teach her how to properly fight just in case." "Mapi!"

————

After multiple phone calls, Alexia got confirmation that you weren't in jail. Ingrid had came back 10 minutes ago, and Lucy had just called 4 minutes ago, telling them about how she found you and was taking you back home.

Alexia sighed in relief upon hearing the news. She started getting her voice ready; she had never been so worried and angry with you at the same time. She was exhausted; everybody was. Ingrid came back nearly crying when she couldn't find you; Mapi's knee was hurting worse than usual, and Alexia was stressing out more now, about her knee and about you.

Right when Lucy knocked on that door, everyone jumped. Ingrid quickly answered it and pulled you into a tight hug.

"What were you thinking?!" You sighed and pulled away from Ingrid, hearing Alexia's voice.

"I needed time to think," you simply said, pushing past Ingrid to go to your room. Ingrid grabbed you by your shoulder and glared at you. That's how you know you messed up.

"Your 16! You can't be walking around in the dark, especially after you get a red card! Do you know how fucking inappropriate that was, by the way? You nearly cost the team just because you got your feelings hurt by that girl!" Ingrid yelled, everyone looked at her in shock as she kept going.

"She fucking kicked me!" You yelled back, "And she was going to get a card for it, but no, like always, you had to take things into your own hands, and that got you a red!" She yelled again.

Ingrid's eyes softened when she noticed the tears starting to build up in your eyes. She had never yelled at you before, and now she felt bad. She tried pulling you into a hug, but you pushed her away and went off to your room. Slamming and locking your door.

Alexia sighed and turned to Lucy. "Thank you; where was she?" "We have to talk about that. I saw the kid come out of a liquor store and she had this." Lucy showed Alexia the beer, and now she was angry again. Alexia quickly stormed to your room. You were truly in for it.

————

You were freezing; you were only in a t-shirt and shorts as you stood on the field. Alexia's punishment was for you to do pacers in the freezing cold.

After the last one, you kneeled on the field, trying to regain your breath, as Alexia stood over you, watching you with a disappointed look.

"You'll never learn, will you?" She shook her head, "I've tried so hard to help you, but you just keep pushing it more. Your career would be over if you got caught with this crap; how did you even get it?" She looked at you. You said nothing, only glaring at her.

"I did your dumb pacers; now just leave me alone, Alexia; I don't want to talk about this," completely ignoring what she had just said. Alexia huffed and followed behind you back to Ingrid's car, where Ingrid sat inside.

You were happy once the two of you dropped Alexia off; now it was just awkward silence between you and Ingrid until she decided to speak up.

"She cares about you; I know she's tough on you, but you don't make it easy for her." You rolled your eyes at Ingrid's words. "I never asked for her help." Ingrid sighed and shook her head. She dropped it quickly, not wanting to rile you up.

————

The next day at training, you noticed the little looks everyone was giving you.

Jonatan didn't even bother to give you a talk about your attitude again, like he usually did. He was considering just putting you on a loan, something he hoped Alexia would agree to considering they weren't actually selling you to another team or letting you go fully, but he wanted to send you away to somewhere where he knew you would get very disciplined.

Alexia had other ideas; she had actually texted the girls to go hard on you this training session, and of course the girls listened to their captain.

————

You groaned as you got hit with yet another harsh tackle. This time from Ingrid, "Sorry, kid," she told you, helping you up. You let that one slide since it was Ingrid, and she was your favorite.

The tackles kept coming, and you knew Alexia had something to do with it. It was something she usually did when you did something; it was part of her harsh training to discipline you.

She would tell the girls to go harder on you, and of course they would listen to their captain. When she trained with you guys, she would give you some hard pushes and always piss you off.

It wasn't until Pina's late tackle that sent you to the floor in pain, holding your ankle. She quickly got up and checked on you, and the game stopped. You knew it wasn't on purpose, and you didn't blame her. You blamed Alexia, who was watching and walking towards you to make sure you were okay.

"I'm sorry, Hermana," Pina told you as you sat up. You glared at her and at Alexia, who now stood beside her, holding a hand out to help you up. You pushed it away and got up.

"Fuck you," you spat harshly at Pina as you shoved past her and back into the locker room. You were so angry at yourself; you knew you deserved their bad treatment.

"Fuck this!" You yelled, punching the wall; you hadn't expected to punch a hole in it. You didn't acknowledge that, quickly changing and grabbing your bag before leaving.

No one came to check on you in the locker room. They knew when you had an outburst like that, you needed to be alone for at least 10 minutes. Alexia couldn't wait though; a part of her felt bad for putting you in that position, and another part knew she had to do it. Jonatan was so close to kicking you off the team, and it was getting harder for Alexia to defend you.

————

Despite Ingrid and Mapi telling her to leave you alone, she stormed into the locker room. Of course, she still scolded Claudia for her reckless tackle. Her anger only got worse when she saw the hole in the wall, one that was for sure going to get you in trouble with the coaches again.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Alexia yelled at you, pacing back and forth as you sat against the wall. You couldn't do it anymore.

You had finally come to the conclusion that the team hated you. Ingrid had yelled at you, Mapi hadn't even tried joking with you all morning, Frido didn't give you your morning hug, Patri didn't put you in a headlock when she saw you, you could only think about the hurt in Pina's eyes when you freaked out on her, Lucy's angry ones when she snatched the bottle of beer you had in your arms and dragged you into the car.

"I'm sorry, Ale, for everything," you cried. She stood there in shock for a second. She had to process the fact that those words actually came out of your mouth.

You got scared when she didn't say anything back, fearing that she had already given up on you. "I don't know what to do anymore; I don't mean to get angry all the time; I just get annoyed so easily." Alexia quickly kneeled in front of you and pulled you into a hug.

"I know Bebe, but you know you can't flip out like that, especially at your teammates," you nodded and sniffled.

"No one wants me here, Ale. Right when I came in, the fans wanted me to be like you, and when they saw I played nothing like you, they started hating me. Mapi and Ingrid were forced to take me in because of your knee. I'm probably going to get kicked off the team, and no one on the team has even looked at me today; they hate me." Your voice broke, saying the last sentence.

The fans hating you, you were able to take it, but the team hating you? You wouldn't be able to live with yourself knowing that.

"Bebe, everyone on this team loves you; you're a good kid; you just have a couple of issues," she whispered the last part, but you still heard her. Then came the sounds Alexia did not want to hear.

You started sobbing, full-on sobbing. "Hey, hey, no, Bebe, it's okay." Alexia tried to calm you, but it just got worse.

"Take deep breaths; come here," she gently moved you so you were sitting on her lap. You quickly hugged her tightly, hiding your face in her neck.

"I'm sorry, Alexia," you cried. Alexia tried to hold in her own tears as she did her best to comfort you. She held you tightly, rubbing your back and humming. She didn't know how to comfort you, but she was just doing the same thing her mama would do when she or Alba had a meltdown.

————

When training ended, you had finally calmed down; your eyes were red, and you were anxious and clinging to Alexia as the team started coming back in.

Claudia came up to you and pulled you into a tight hug. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," she told you, kissing your head. "It's okay," you said, noticing Alexia's look. "I'm sorry for cursing at you and pushing you," you mumbled.

Alexia led you to Mapi and Ingrid. "I'm sorry for causing trouble."Ingrid smiled at you, pulling you into a tight hug, also hoping this wasn't just a little innocent act of yours to get out of trouble.

Mapi, on the other hand, couldn't believe how you were behaving. She's never gotten a sorry from you. Not even when you ate her chocolate and blamed it on Bagheera, Mapi actually believed you, freaked out, and took him to the vet.

You only told her when she got back. You slept at Lucy's for a week after that, and she never got an apology.

"Apologize for the Bagheera incident," Mapi told you strictly. "I'm sorry, I made you believe your son ate your chocolate when it was really me." Mapi smiled brightly, patting your head. "Okay"

As you went around the locker room apologizing for everything you had done, it actually made you feel better, especially when you got that hug from Fridolina. Even Patri's hug made you feel comforted, and usually Patri's hugs turned into her throwing you to the ground.

From then on, you had changed; you were calmer on the field, got angry less, but at least stopped talking back to the referees. You were a changed woman in everyone's eyes.

#woso x reader #woso #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #claudia pina #ingrid engen #mapi leon #alexia putellas #lucy bronze

580 notes · View notes

bucktommyweek · 1 month

Text

Welcome to BuckTommyWeek!

Alright, y'all, the moment we've (I've) all been waiting for! (Again, probably just me...)

Here are your Prompts for #BuckTommyWeek which is June 3-9, 2024.

Monday, June 3, 2024: Date Night Tuesday, June 4, 2024: Emergency Wednesday, June 5, 2024: Bad weather days (mental or literal) Thursday, June 6, 2024: Gift Exchange (Sentimental, handmade or silly) Friday, June 7, 2024: AU (can be: 118 Tommy (he never left), First Meeting (back from the weekend), soulmate AU or string of fate au.) Saturday, June 8, 2024: Pride (First pride, or Pride traditions) Sunday, June 9, 2024: Leaving a mark (wonder where I got THAT idea from?)

And what will the alternate prompts be, you may ask? Where are the dirty ones from last time?

The alternate prompts are the weekend prompts so:

A figure from their past.

"I'll come for you, no matter what, if you need me, I'll be there."

Their favourite firsts.

"No touching. You'll be patient and wait until I'm done."

The toy chest.

"Guess what I'm wearing right now?"

Beast mode (wonder where I got that idea from?)

Important Information Before Participating

Rules

Rating System

FAQ

Racism and Prejudice

Ao3 Collection

Optional Post Format

Resources for Writing

If you have any questions either hit up our askbox or my own personal askbox or messages @evan-privileges

Haters need not engage.

#bucktommyweek #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #kinkley #firepilot #firefly #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard

279 notes · View notes

wtfsteveharrington · 5 days

Text

c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader

we've got so much history baby

description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.

warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!

smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.

word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!

a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3

maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway.

“Where’ve you been tonight?”

Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.”

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.

When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.

For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.

Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.

And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay.

Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield.

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch.

So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time.

You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you.

It didn’t work but does it ever?

Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care.

Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right?

And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all.

You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it.

One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond?

Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier.

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well.

A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”

You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner.

Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed.

If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.

Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret.

So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up.

Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.

And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him.

Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.

Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out.

He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you.

You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that?

You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again.

“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused.

“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.

His eye twitches involuntarily.

There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen.

And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.

You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building.

As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened.

You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like.

Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you.

“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm.

His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him.

Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips.

Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place.

Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.

Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place.

“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him.

He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you.

There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit.

He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.

A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.

“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.”

Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.”

Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”

You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily

“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later.

He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night.

Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out.

It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.

“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly.

There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement.

His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how.

“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.”

He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.”

You liked riling him up.

Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain.

He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.

So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him.

Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself.

Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.”

That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.

He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible.

You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.

The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support.

Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well.

There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had.

He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”

You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body.

Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he?

He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”

The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone.

Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all.

He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail.

But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away.

“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse.

But tonight was different.

There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.

“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.”

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.

Your sheets smell like home.

He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable.

Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.

Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through.

Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms.

You never did.

But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet.

He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet.

The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.

Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen.

Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.

“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to.

In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex.

“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.

“Shitty?”

Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together.

There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.”

You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light.

He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast.

————

11:52 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets

[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going

12:17 pm

Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well.

4:39 pm

[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now

————

You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time.

You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred.

One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day.

No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it.

The bed feels so much

You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.

————

11:28 pm

Headed to bed

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest.

You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!”

Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound.

And there he is.

Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming?

The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now

————

No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning.

So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all.

A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point.

————

10:32 am

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen!

You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line?

So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you.

The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not.

Ugh!

Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.

If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out.

But alas.

You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now.

The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -

Fuck Carmen Berzatto.

You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!

This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff.

So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral.

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

#♡: c.b.#carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #the bear #the bear fic #the bear smut #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy the bear #carmy bearzatto x you

384 notes · View notes

jackhues · 7 months

Text

karma - auston matthews

notes: this is based off of @matthewshisch's idea (karma is the guy on the leafs)! so s/o to her <3 also, reader is a singer :)) AND gif not mine !

likes are good, reblogs are better!

being a celebrity meant that no matter what, one thing would always be a fixed thing in your life. and that was the rumours.

one week you were dating a new guy. the next, you were engaged to some kid from your hometown. the next week, you were back with your ex.

no matter what, the dating rumours always flew around you. maybe the fact that you never made it public with anyone fuelled those even more. whatever the case, it was funny reading them.

especially when you thought about what you had planned for tonight.

a knock sounded on your door, followed by a familiar voice, "did someone order some flowers?"

you couldn't help the smile growing on your face as you made eye contact with auston in the mirror.

you were in your dressing room at the stadium, getting ready for the opening night of your multi-month tour. you'd worked hard to get to where you were now -- one of the most successful female artists in the world.

and right there by your side, supporting you for the past year, was none other than auston matthews, your boyfriend. you'd met at a leafs game years ago, but he'd only reached out to you just over a year before. ever since then, the two of you kept your relationship under wraps for the most part, doing your best to just enjoy your time together without the media's comments.

you'd talked about going public before, but for the most part, decided to let life take it's course. of course... tonight would be a pretty big surprise.

"hi, you made it," you got up from your chair, sinking into his arms for a hug.

"i wouldn't miss this for the world," he responded, placing a kiss to the top of your head. "it's my girl's big day. first tour in almost three years. nothing's gonna stop me from being here."

you grinned stupidly to yourself, finding auston's words so comforting and sweet. even after a whole year, he managed to make you feel giddy.

"i'm really happy you're here," you whispered, pulling away. "oh! i've got a surprise for you, but i can't give it to you right now. i'll give it after, okay?"

"a surprise for me?" auston repeated. "it's your day."

"hush, i wanted to do it," you said.

another knock sounded on your door, and your assistant, jenny, poked her head in. "y/n, we've got to start in ten. let's go. auston, mark's got your seat saved. head over quick, or someone'll spot you."

"that's not a big deal," auston waved it off. "if someone spots me, they spot me. it's not the end of the world."

"well, fact remains, we need y/n right now," she said. "c'mon, you can have her back when she's done her show."

"i'll see you soon," you kissed auston, before following jenny out to your position.

you adjusted your earpiece, waiting for the lights to dim. as soon as they did, the platform you were standing on moved higher, allowing you to enter directly on stage.

the lights turned back on, and the crowd went wild.

"let the show begin," you whispered to yourself.

---

"'cause karma is the thunder," you sang, "rattling your ground. karma's on your scent like a bounty hunter. karma's gonna track you down."

the crowd waved their flashlights in the air, following you as you continued dancing to the beat of the song, singing along. getting closer and closer to the surprise you planned for auston.

"step by step from town to town," you continued. "sweet like justice, karma is a queen. karma takes all my friends to the summit..."

you paused for half a second, allowing production to ready themselves and for the crowd to pay attention to the small change.

"karma is the guy on the leafs, coming straight home to me!"

you stomped on the mark, blue sparklers going off on either side of the stage -- matching with the colour of your dress and the leafs' colours.

the crowd screamed as you continued your performance, losing their minds at the confirmation that you and auston were dating.

"cause karma is my boyfriend," you locked eyes with auston in the crowd, noticing him smiling widely to himself as people nearby recorded the interaction. winking at him, you continued your song, "karma is a god."

the crowd continued chanting throughout the song, no one truly getting over the lyric change you'd done.

you had a feeling there were gonna be rumours about this for a while.

---

tags : @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 , @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj

join my main taglist!

#naqia writes!#auston matthews #auston matthews blurb #auston matthews x oc #auston matthews fic #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews x y/n #auston matthews imagines #auston matthews blurbs #toronto maple leafs x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl #nhl one shot #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey one shot #hockey fic #hockey

596 notes · View notes

westviewtroubles · 2 years

Text

Next To You

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Synopsis: Eddie is trying to get the courage to ask you out.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff!

A/N: This is the second part to "Across The Room" but it can be read as a stand-alone, however I recommend reading that one first! Part 1 is here! Part 3!

Eddie was sure that he hadn't smiled this much in years. His lessons with you had become more frequent, and you saw each other at least every other day, for at least an hour. He was sure that you'd soon gone through the entire textbook.

He had memorized the way you smell, your perfume now ingrained in his mind. One day you'd switched up from the daisy scent, and he commented on it.

"You smell different today."

"Oh? Is that a bad thing?" You'd asked, with the cutest furrow in your brows.

"No, you smell good. I just really like your regular scent."

He swore he'd never seen you smile so widely, and he congratulated himself internally, finally achieving his goal. Eddie had caught himself thinking about you at the strangest times, and that smile was haunting him in the best way possible, the boy secretly hoping that he could see it more often.

One time during Hellfire, Mike punched his arm out of nowhere.

"What's that for?

"Dude, we're in the middle of a campaign. What are you so busy thinking about?"

"Sorry."

It was you. He had been thinking about the way you'd brushed your hair behind your ear earlier in the day, and the way it caused his heart to start beating against his chest as you kept talking about some war.

And your voice, it was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard, the words slipping off your tongue like a pro, and he thought the way you'd occasionally stumble over your words or clear your throat was the most endearing thing in the world.

Whenever you snacked on something, he couldn't help but stare at your lips, and the one time you'd brought Twizzlers, the only thing he could think about for the rest of the week was the way your red lips looked when you bit into one.

All his dreams were filled with the way your eyes wrinkled when you laughed, and how sweet your laughter sounded, the way you sighed in contentment and smiled at him when you got done laughing, and when you looked at him, it felt like you knew everything he was thinking.

Eddie groaned, sitting back on his chair. You'd told him that you couldn't meet today, and even though he had Hellfire, he was frustrated. The one thing that frustrated him the most was how he still hadn't been able to ask you out on a date.

It'd been over a month since you started tutoring him, yet whenever he even thought about asking you out, he couldn't get the words out. Eddie had never been one to get tongue-tied, but when he was with you, he was never able to find the right words. Even if it was just eight words. "Will you go on a date with me?"

It was like those words completely disappeared from his vocabulary.

"Eddie? What are you doing here?"

The dark-haired man raised his head, Dustin's entrance shaking him out of his thoughts.

"Hellfire doesn't start for another hour and you're never early. Or, on time, these days."

"History lesson got canceled." Eddie said as nonchalantly as possible, "What are you doing here, Henderson?"

"I got done with a biology test. Why'd she cancel your lesson?"

"She had to study for- Wait." Eddie furrowed his brows, looking at Dustin with a pointed finger, "How'd you know she was a she?"

"We've seen you talking to her, and you don't usually talk to strangers without a reason. Or smile when talking to them, for that matter."

"Oh." Eddie leaned back on his chair, fidgeting with his rings. "I was just thinking-"

"-about asking her out?"

"You're getting annoying really fast, Henderson." Eddie raised his brows, "Why do you think that?"

"Well," Dustin began, sitting down opposite Eddie, "You were grinning from ear to ear when your first lesson ended, and every time you were late because you were studying you kept humming and spacing out in the middle of the game. You wanna know what I think?"

"Sure, why not."

"Grow a set and ask her out!"

"Hadn't thought of that. Why don't I just ask her out? That's some great advice that I've never thought of before." Eddie groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"Why not do some grand gesture? Like, get her flowers or play something on your guitar. Girls like that."

"What do you know about what girls like?"

"Let's see, which one of us has a girlfriend, and which one of us is asking advice on how to ask their teacher out."

"Tutor, not teacher."

"Whatever, she's too pretty for you anyway." Dustin mumbled, and before he knew it, Eddie had thrown a cashew at him.

You'd skipped tutoring Eddie to focus on your own schoolwork, but even when you were sitting in front of your desk with your chemistry book open, you couldn't help but think about him.

Your mind kept drifting to the way his ring-clad fingers looked when he tapped his fingers against the wooden table, humming as he did a practice test, your attention solely on him.

Or the time you'd brought Twizzlers with you, jokingly offering him one that you'd already bitten into, the boy taking a bite with no hesitation, and going back to studying as soon as he was done while you kept staring at him.

"Tastes good."

One time when he'd finally memorized a topic that he had difficulties with, his arms suddenly wrapped around you and he lifted you up as if you were light as air, a wide smile on his face while you kept hoping that he wouldn't be able to feel your heart that felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

When he had almost caught you drawing his picture on your sketchbook, you tried to stop drawing him, but somehow, without even thinking, a thick head of curls appeared on the paper.

Whenever you weren't with him, you were thinking about him. You always wondered what he was doing, and when he told you he'd be going to play D&D, you wondered how the game was going.

You groaned, realizing that even now, he wouldn't leave your mind.

Eddie kept tapping his foot on the floor of the history classroom, staring down at the empty paper.

"You can begin." Mrs. Click said, and Eddie skimmed over the questions, trying to remember everything you had taught him.

The lesson went by too quickly, and Eddie seemed to be the last one left in the classroom as every other student was excused as soon as they got done with their tests. He kept glancing at his watch, taking a deep breath as he looked over all his answers before walking up to the teacher's desk, and handing the test to Mrs. Click.

"I trust you've improved." She said before glancing up at Eddie, "I assigned my best student to you."

He could feel chills running down his spine when the woman went back to grading tests, leaving the classroom in long strides, only to feel someone grab hold of his arm.

He turned to see the smile he'd already memorized as you looked up at him with an expectant look on your face, your eyes gleaming. "Well, how was it?"

"I don't know, I think it went well. We're getting our tests back on Friday."

"Good job." You said, raising your hand. "High five?"

Eddie looked around to see if anyone was watching before he connected your hands, making a decision as soon as your hands touched. If he passed the test, he'd ask you out. No matter what.

Waiting for Friday to arrive was like Hell to him, and the only thing that was keeping him upright was the study sessions you had with him daily.

However, he didn't like the fact that whenever he was late for Hellfire, Dustin would raise his brows curiously.

"If I pass the test, then I'm gonna ask her out tomorrow, alright." Eddie explained once everyone else had left.

"Sure you will." Dustin said dismissively, gathering his stuff.

"I'm serious."

"I think you're full of crap."

"Watch me! If I pass the test, then I'm asking her out." Eddie said confidently, causing Dustin to roll his eyes.

"If you were going to ask her out, you would've already done so, and you'd probably be on a date with her right now instead of cleaning."

"I'm doing it tomorrow."

"Mmhm."

It was the most restless night in Eddie's life, and even smoking didn't seem to calm him down enough to get a proper night's sleep, the boy ending up with under two hours of sleep, all of it somehow still filled with dreams about you.

Now, he was sitting in history class, fidgeting with the torn corners of a paper to try and get himself to calm down. It didn't help that history was Eddie's last class of the day, or that the boy had felt like he was going to throw up as soon as he got to school.

Mrs. Click was passing out the tests, and when she got to him, she placed the paper upside down on the desk.

Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach. It couldn't be a good sign. Everyone else had their test scores in full view.

He felt tempted to see what his grade was, but he kept reminding himself of the request you'd made to him.

"When you get the test back, can you not look at it without me? I wanna see how happy you get when you realize you've passed."

He still remembers the wide smile on your face when he agreed, and a feeling of failure washed over him. You'd worked so hard to help him, but he likely didn't even pass.

Even when the bell rang, Eddie stayed in his seat, waiting for everyone else to leave the classroom before he did. And when he was the only student in the room, he took a deep breath before exiting, knowing that he'd have to face you.

You had that excited smile on your face, your hands pressed together as you looked at him with raised brows, but when you saw the feeble attempt he made to smile, your smile was erased from your face.

"Did you look at your test without me?"

"No." Eddie chuckled dryly, "I just don't have high hopes."

"You did well. I know it."

"Can you look?" He said, holding the test out, and you pursed your lips as you hesitantly accepted the piece of paper, turning it around.

After a moment, your mouth twisted into the widest smile he had ever seen, and you held up the paper, showing him the grade.

B+

"I told you that you did well!" You exclaimed, handing the paper to him. "I'm so proud of you."

You watched as his jaw slackened, the boy looking down at the paper in his hands in pure awe, your heart fluttering at the sight, trying your best to memorize the beautiful smile on his face in hopes of recreating it in a drawing.

"Thank you."

"This was all you!" You exclaimed, "You did great."

"I couldn't have done it without your help." He said, taking a deep breath. "I made a promise I kind of have to keep."

"What promise?"

"I have to ask a girl out."

Your heart fell when you heard those words leave his lips, and you looked down at your feet, trying to hide the frown that was trying to take over your lips.

"So, how about it?" Eddie said, taking hold of your chin and lifting your face up so you'd look at him. "Will you go on a date with me?"

You couldn't help but be taken in by the way he looked at you, his brown eyes full of hope as he waited for your answer, your heart beating against your chest as you looked up at him, his gorgeous smile tempting you to come closer.

And when you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, you whispered into his ear,

"Yes."

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

4K notes · View notes

corrodedcoffins-blog · 5 months

Text

The Almost Breakup

note: short but i'm happy with it

also gonna get back into this story soon also if you have thoughts on this au (or any of my aus) please share i love hearing them <3

y/nupdates

liked by CorrodedCoffinStan, lilian_19, and others

y/nupdates: Y/n and Isla (Y/n's boyfriend's daughter) out together going out to dinner and seeming very close, and no Eddie in sight

view all comments

emails.tour.11: her and isla bonding is so cute

icarly_: Isla is so pretty

Metalhead_: she's such a slut

13taytay: JOJO!! HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING?!?!

im.a.mirrorball: in her step-mom era

y/nismyqueen: where are y/n's shoes from?? very very important!

for_our_moony: prada i think, but steve madden makes a more affordable

CorrodedCoffinStan: he is to old for her, and now making her act like a mom to his daughter. disgusting.

y/nupdates

liked by tswiftfan13, gilmore_girl, and others

y/nupdates: Y/n was out with her new boyfriend, Eddie Munson's son. They went out to lunch together, and this is the first time we've seen them together.

view all comments

dog.loverrr: only 5 years between her and her boyfriends son..

princess.y/n: love seeing her with Leo not just isla

anna.frozen_: my worlds colliding

munson_86: fr been an Eddie fan for years and a Y/n fan since girl meets world

y/nswifey: forever in love with Leo Munson

philly_eagles.fan: i think they should date instead of her and his dad, the age gap is gross

Eddie and Y/n have been together for 6 months now, about the time Eddie’s relationships would end, without the women ever meeting his kids and never any ‘I love you’s. But everything was going well, and though Y/n had met Isla when she met Eddie they had gotten really close, and she had now met Leo and despite all expectations that went well. Y/n and Leo had become friends of sorts. But no matter how happy he was, how happy she made him, Eddie started pulling away. He couldn’t help it. He loved her, yes. Not that he’d told her yet. He loved his kids first, and he has to put them first, always will.

Y/n was now on the international leg of her tour, and they haven’t talked in a while, always seeming to miss each other. This was giving Eddie the space he needs to think about their relationship. Not without zero help from his kids.

“Is Y/n going to come here after her shows in Europe are over?” Isla asked, pushing her vegetables across her plate with her fork, then picking up her knife to saw the broccoli in two.

“Um- I’m not sure, kid.” The man mumbles, hoping Isla will move on after not getting an answer.

“Why not?”

“Isla-”

“Can you ask-”

“Isla! Finish your dinner, or if you're done take your plate to the kitchen.” Sighing, Isla got up grabbing her plate to the kitchen and stomping upstairs to her room. After hearing the slamming the teens door, Eddie gets up to start loading the dishwasher. Leo, who was over for dinner, like he often did, walked over to his dad, placing his plate next to the sink. Then rounding the island, to sit at a bar stool.

“So.. What’s with your attitude?” This causes Eddie to look up from his task, giving his son a look that could kill.

“Leo, we're not talking about this.”

“No. We have to. I don’t know what’s wrong with you. You get so sensitive everytime we mention Y/n lately. Are you not talking? Please don’t break up with this one, I actually like her.”

“Leo. I ca-”

“No. You love her! And I guess that scares you, because every relationship you’ve had since mom has had this 6 month timer and that timer has gone off, and you're not ready. Or it scares you that she’s so close to us. And that if you ever break up Isla would be heartbroken.”

Eddie takes a moment, thinking over what Leo has said, and scarily accurate it is, and since when was Leo that smart?

“Leo?... Could you stay here with Isla for a few days?”

“Yeah.” Leo says, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Here Y/n was sitting in her hotel in Paris, staring at her phone, looking at a voicemail Eddie had left. It’s time. He’s going to break up with her; she just knows it. Her and Leo went out a couple weeks ago and he had let slip of Eddie’s 6 month timer on relationships, of course that was followed with Leo’s reassurance that he could feel she was different. But that didn’t cure her anxiety.

Because since she left for tour, they haven’t talked, like Eddie has been avoiding her. She had written a break-up song about him for fucks sake, they’re not even broken up yet. But now he was going to break up with her, over a voicemail at that.

Ripping the band-aid off, Y/n finally presses play on the voicemail.

“Hey, Y/n-” God her first name, it’s really happening “-um, I have a lot of this to say, but I can’t say it over the phone. So I’ll talk to you later. I care about you. I know it hasn’t felt like it, and that’s part of what I need to talk about. I just need you to remember that. I care about you. Okay. Bye.”

At least he was planning on letting her down easy. Guess that’s a plus. Pouring herself a glass of wine from the overpriced display hotels have, Y/n sits down at the dining table, staring at the abstract painting across from her. After what felt like an hour of staring, which in actuality it was 10 minutes, the young woman hears the click of the hotel door. It startles her back into a conscious state, wondering why her assistant Andrea, the only other person with a key card, was entering her room at this hour.

“Andrea?” Turning the corner, Y/n comes face to face with the older, taller man. “Eds… Wha- what are you doing here?”

“Did you not get my voicemail?” He asks, as if that voicemail held any answers.

“Yeah, but.. It was pretty vague.” Her reply caused Eddie to smile.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I was in a rush. Packing, getting the jet ready.” Silence came over the two. Awkward silence. The couple had never been in awkward silence for the entirety of their relationship, always talking, never a pause in their banter. They had comfortable silence at night, staring into each other's eyes. But never was it awkward between them.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls.”

“I’ve been avoiding your calls.” The two spoke at the same time, before Eddie continues, “I’m sorry. It’s just- Ever since my relationship with my ex-wife, my relationships have had this 6 month lifespan. And when they get close to 6 months I get ready to end things.” Here it comes the ‘it’s not you, it’s me and my commitment issues’ “But that didn’t happen with you.” Oh. “With you, you met Isla and Leo no woman I’ve been with has gotten there, and they like you! And that’s fucking scarry. So the thought of us ever breaking up and what that would do to Isla.. It killed me, so I wanted to get ahead of it, y’know break up with you before she got even more attached, but I couldn’t so I just avoided you. Which was the wrong choice because that just caused you and me more pain. So.. I came here to tell you that.. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back, but I need you to know that I’m in, and this relationship it’s not just you and me anymore, my kids are in this. And I have to think about them and I need to know that you will also think about them.”

Throughout that long winded explanation, all Y/n could think about is that Eddie is not breaking up with her, and that he loves her. He, Eddie Munson, playboy, rock legend loved her.

“Eds, I love you too.” After she said the three little magic words, Eddie leaps towards her, his lips smashing against hers. Their lips moving in sync, Eddie’s tongue tempting her lips to widen, to allow his tongue and hers to fight for dominance. Y/n’s lips grant Eddie’s tongue entrance while Eddie has her distracted by his tongue, his hands slip downwards to her thighs gripping them for support to lift the woman onto the dining table, leaning her back and lifting his lips from hers to be able to talk once again. The disconnection of their lips leave the couple breathless, panting, and staring into eachothers eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple wake up the next morning, sunlight seeping through the sheer curtains, legs tangled together, Y/n moving to put her cold feet on Eddie’s legs to warm them.

“Ah! Get your feet off me. They’re cold.” Eddie mumbles into his hair, before turning his body to face Y/n, he was the little spoon last night.

“I know! That’s why I want you to warm them.” The short woman says in a ‘duh’ tone. Wiggling her feet between his calves, Eddie grabs her ankles, moving onto his back and pulling her to straddle him. Her bare core, resting on his v-line, as the two were still naked from last night's activities.

“Hi.”

“Hi, darling.”

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” The older man brings his hand to his girl's jaw, his thumb rubbing back and forth on her cheek.

“I love you.” This causes Eddie to let out a deep chuckle, as the two have said this about 30 times since he first did last night.

“I love you too.”

“So.. Now that we’re in love or whatever.” “‘Whatever’” “I want you to meet my parents… In a couple months when I get a break from tour. What do you think about that?” Y/n was worried about asking Eddie this, it felt so juvenile, but Eddie has never once made her feel bad about their age gap, one of the many things she loved about him.

“I would love to. And in the summer, I would really love you coming with me and the kids to Hawkins, meet my uncle and my hometown friends?”

“I would love to meet the man that raised my amazing man. I’ll have to thank him y’know. A lot.”

“Of course, he did a great job.”

“Oh shut up. I also really want to meet your friends. What are they like?”

“Well theirs the Hellfire boys, Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will. They’re a couple years younger than me, all married, all have kids. Mike and Will are married, they adopted a few. Then there’s Steve. He has a kid Leo’s age.. Then Robin, she got married to this girl from high school, Vicky, me and Steve totally got them together but she won’t admit it. They’re all great, and I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

“I want to go to.. Italy. Have you been?”

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“I’ve always wanted to go.”

“I’ll take you.”

The two have been laying on their backs staring at the ceiling, talking all about the places they’ve been and want to go. The couple haven't left the bed all day, just to go to the bathroom, and Eddie once to grab them food, all while still naked, just how they liked it.

“I wrote a breakup song about you.. Before everything, when I thought we were going to break up.” She added the last part quickly after her pause.

“Anything bad about me?” Eddie asks, clearly making a joke out of it, something Y/n was thankful for, he could always tell when she needed him to be serious and when she needed him to be jokey, another thing she loved about him.

“No, of course not. Just about how it would be super hard for me if we did break up.”

“Then good thing we didn’t.” He says, pressing his lips gently against hers.

~taglist~

@whoscamila @mystargirl-interlude @creoleguurl @witchwolflea @kissmejoey @taylorswiftsloverfr @random000000sblog

176 notes · View notes

dazed-and-confused23 · 1 month

Text

Act Naturally 3

Summary: It's been a couple of days since Lucy and Cooper married, and the vault doctor is confused when he finds out that they've not consummated it yet.

Pairings: Pre-War Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Warnings. None really? Smut with be on the next/final part.

Masterlist

It's been a couple of days since their marriage, and Cooper finds life in the vault... dull, to say the least. There isn't much way of entertainment, and his new job as Althetic Coach was pretty useless, leaving the ex-actor bored most days. Not that Lucy is boring, but the young woman had more duties in the vault than he did, leaving Cooper alone much of the day.

No, Lucy was an amazing, intelligent young woman who Cooper was getting to know little by little. She was raised to be a go-getter, with a can-do attitude, but he could see that there was more to just that. Lucy was kind and thoughtful in a way that few people truly were. Cooper didn't love her, but he could see himself falling for the young vault dweller.

A week passes by, and he's back in their shared home, mindlessly watching a rerun of some old-world cartoon when there is a knock on the door. He pushes himself up and answers the sliding door to find a middle-aged man on the other side with a white lab coat over his vault suit.

"Hello, Mr. Howard. I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting yet. I'm Dr. Gallows," He introduces himself and shakes Cooper's hand when offered.

"Cooper, good to meet you," the ex-actor, "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

The doctor clears his throat and shoots Cooper a small grin, "Well, usually a new bride has already come to see me after the consummation of the marriage, but Lucy has yet to stop by, so I wanted to do a house call to make sure everything was good to go."

Cooper blinks at the doctor, and the casual way he brings up his sex life. Lucy hadn't made a move to try and sleep with him, and Coop had been fine with allowing her to set the pace. What did it matter if they hadn't fucked yet?

"Okay... and?"

The doctor lets out an awkward chuckle, "Well. Part of the Vault mission is to rebuild human society, but we can't do that if we don't have kids, right Mr. Howard? So I'd like for Lucy to come see me in the next couple of days, that should give the two of you please of time."

Cooper wants to protest, to immediately shut this innane bull crap down, but he stops himself. The vaults were a tight nit group, and he doubted that just he would be in trouble if he decided to deck their doctor in the face. Lucy would be part of this, too.

So, instead, the man sighs and grands the doctor a look little more friendly than a glare, "I'll see what I can do, Doc."

"Ah, splendid then! I'll see you in a couple of days!"

Cooper sneers as the other man be-pops away like nothing had happened and shuts the door quickly. He would have to talk to Lucy about this when she got home.

It's near the evening by the time his wife gets home, and Cooper welcomes Lucy with a smile and open arms, which she gratefully falls into. He holds her close and presses a quick kiss to the top of her head, "Long day, baby?"

Lucy sighs dramatically and leans back so that she can look at him, "You have no idea. Dad had me sit in on all his meetings, and then I had class to teach. No one even paid attention."

Cooper chuckles a bit and leads Lucy over to the couch, where she sits down beside him. He keeps her close, one arm curled around her back as she tells him about her day, which sounds far more interesting than anything he did today.

They are having a light dinner when Cooper brings up his visitor from earlier in the day, "Dr. Gallows came by today."

He pauses when Lucy’s face erupts in , and the fork she holds falls to the plate. He cocks a brow at her and sits back, sitting his own utensils down to give his wife his full attention. Cooper sees her swallow harshly and avoid his gaze.

"What - uhm. What did he want?"

Cooper licks his lips, fingers itching for a cigarette to occupy his hands with, and says as easy as pie, "Wondering why we haven't "consummated our marriage" yet."

Lucy's shoulders draw up to around her ears, and she slaps her hands over her face, "I'm so sorry. He wasn't being pushy, was he?"

Cooper huffed and stood from his seat, "Well, he made it quite clear that he wasn't too thrilled that we've kept him waiting. I'm not a fan of these vault rules, Darlin', so we'll make him wait as long as you want him to."

He gathers the dishes and sets them in the sink for later, and then turns back around to see his wife still slumped over the table. He frowns and mosies over, one hand dropping to her shoulder and squeezing lightly, "We'll follow your lead."

Lucy reaches up a hand and curls it around his own, her fingers squeezing hard before she lifts her head and peeks up at him through her dark bangs. Cooper thinks she looks beautiful like this.

"I want to," she begins and elaborates when he lifts a brow, her voice wavering with nerves, "to have sex with you. I was just too scared to ask."

The ex-actor scoffs and stands behind her, his other hand coming up to land on her shoulder and massage the tense muscles there. She sags under him, and Cooper bends down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. He didn't want her to feel scared or nervous around him, not when he was her husband.

"You can talk to me about anything, Sweetheart," Cooper assures his wife quietly, "I'm always in your corner, no matter what, okay?"

Lucy nods, and when she looks at him again, he catches the way her pupils blow wide and watches her red tongue sneak out to wet her lips. Arousal pools in his stomach, and his hands tighten around her shoulders.

"Can we have sex, now?"

Cooper swallows harshly and searches her gaze for any time that says Lucy might not want any of this but only sees growing excitement. He smiles at her, a slow smirk that speaks for how much he absolutely wants to have sex. He lets her go and rounds the chair, then angles her chin up to look at him with his knuckle.

"Go get ready for me then, baby."

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #lucy maclean #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #cooper howard x lucy maclean

89 notes · View notes

jellyfishoreo1206 · 1 year

Text

WE ARE NOT SEEING ENOUGH OF MIRAGE GUYS

So I'm taking matters into my own goddamn hands-

Meeting Mirage ;)

Either Noah or Mirage might be a little OOC, but I'm giving it a shot

Takes place after the movie, with fem pronouns

Enjoy!

-------

Dude, where the hell are you?

Y/N was currently sent a page to Noah, her best friend of 3 years. He was suppose to pick her up from work, as her car broke down and is still getting fixed at the mechanics, but it was well over 20 minutes and he still hasn't showed. He was suppose to be there at 7:30, and now it's almost dark.

I'kl be there in 10 minutes! Domething just csme uo

Several typos, whatever the hell is happening over there is really making him either rush or panic... actually those are both kind of in the same sense.

Letting out a sigh through her nose, Y/N quickly typed out a response.

Yeah, yeah. Better keep to your promise, Sonic.

Not even letting him respond, the H/C-nette shoved the device into her coat pocket. Sure it may be the beginning of the summer, but she get cold easily.

And I mean very easily.

"Man, I really need a hot shower right now."

10 minutes breezed by quickly, seemingly in a blink of an eye. About to page Noah again, Y/N stopped in her tracks when a honk sounded in front of her.

Looking up, her eyes widen in complete surprise at the image in front of them. Her best friend, Noah Diaz, in a fucking Porsche. Well, it looked like it seen better days, but still.

"Yo, you gonna get in or are you just gonna stand there looking so surprised?" Noah shouted from inside the car, a smug look on his face.

Snapping out of it, Y/N got inside the car, buckling in her seatbelt.

Once the seatbelt clicked, Noah started the car onto the route back to Y/N's apartment complex. 5 minutes in and the two are making small talk and all that before Y/N asked him a question.

"So, what happened?"

"Hm?"

"To the Porsche. Looks like Frankenstein's monster."

Noah let's out a small chuckle at the comment, "Oh uh, some guy sold it to me for a good price. Because it was all banged up and stuff. Couldn't even start."

"When did you get it?"

"Got it 2 months ago, still has some kinks that need to be fixed. But we've made some progress." He patted the dashboard in a comforting way, a somber smile on his face.

"2 months ago? Weren't you in Perú during that time? Also is Reeks helping you fix the car?"

"Yeah. I think I made a pretty good decision going there..also Reeks is just helping me get the parts, I'm mainly doing the fixing."

"Mm, pretty good job so far. I could help with the paint job? The blue and silver seems to be fading out, but I think it a fresh coat will make it look gorgeous."

After she finished that comment, the car felt like it heated up a little. Not too much to notice, but just enough.

"By the way, what did you do in Perú again?"

"Oh, to study for a job I was doing..got to see some of the landscapes and all that..and nearly died-"

"What was that?"

"Wha-nothing! Don't worry about it at all."

A silence fell between you too, an awkward silence to be exact. He's a little more fidgety than usual.. probably from exhaustion. It's something he does whenever he's very tired. Man, he must be more exhausted than usual.

"Sorry I called you so late, like right after your new job and stuff. It must be tiring."

"Nah I don't mind, you're my best friend after all. Just returning the favor when you babysat Kris last minute." Now Y/N absolutely loves Noah's family. First time she met them, it felt like a bond just, instantly clicked within. So from that day on, she makes a little time out of her day just to visit the Diaz family, especially Kris. He was so sweet, and like the little brother she never had. So whenever Noah or his mom were busy, she babysits him, and brings some food so they can enjoy together.

"I don't mind babysitting Kris at all. He's like a little brother to me anyway."

"Yeah, that's Kris. Best little brother I could ever ask for." A soft smile comes to his face, maybe he should bring some food from that burger joint his family likes, before he goes home so his mom doesn't have to cook tonight.

"Yeah..Hey do you mind if I put in my playlist?"

"Go for it."

Grabbing a mixtape from her pocket, she inserts it into the slot right above the radio, turning the knob to hear what was currently playing.

The familiar rhythm of Virgen by Adolescent's Orquesta brings a smile to your face, increasing the volume as one of her favorite songs plays through the car. Every so often, she would sing along to the lyrics, taping her fingers against the door.

What Y/N didn't know, was a certain Autobot mech was observing her in the passenger seat mirror, noticing the small things about her that seemed to have caught even more of his interest. The moment she got in the car, Mirage had to admit, she was PRETTY. And the compliments she said? Wooo that was feeding his ego.

And she was drop-dead gorgeous, in his optics, he doesn't even know her one bit and he's on his knees just from the sound of her voice. Oh her voice, don't even get him started on her voice. Most purest thing he has ever heard since he had stepped foot on Earth. Got her filling his tanks with a fluttery feeling, or as Noah sometimes likes to refer to, butterflies. What a weird thing to say. (Ngl, I head cannon Mirage to fall in love FAST)

After those few thoughts, the mech started observing her other features. Her eyes, hair, lips, cheeks, hands, even the smallest of moles/freckles that were dotted across her face. Oh and when her smile plastered her face, Mirage felt his spark beat faster.

She was a beauty, a beauty in her own category..

Sadly he wasn't able to admire her much longer, as they stopped in front of her apartment, the sky now completely dark. About to open the car door, the lock clicks, preventing Y/N from getting out. Thinking nothing of it, Y/N goes to unlock it, but it keeps repeatedly locking itself. With a huff, Y/N turns to Noah.

"Dude can you stop that shit?"

"It's not me I swear! Li-like I said, Mir-! The car was all banged up when I got it, still got a few bugs in it.." And as subtly as possible, kept kicking right above the pedals. Not to harshly, but to get the message across to stop messing around.

Finally after what seemed to be forever, the car doors unlocked, with Y/N getting out of the car, making sure to grab her tape. Running a hand over the hood, not noticing the shudder of metal, Y/N waves goodbye to Noah before entering her building, already getting excited for her hot shower.

When Y/N was out of sight and earshot, Noah turned to the radio, somewhat pissed.

"Mirage, what the hell was that??"

"Whaaaat? I did nothing wrong. Also, ouch. Do you have to kick me that hard? I'm still recovering y'know." You could hear the teasing smile on his face, pulling the recovery card whenever.

"Mirage you can't do that."

"Why not? Not like she noticed anything."

"You just can't!"

"Aww but I wanna keep admiring la angel bonita un momento más."

"..what."

"I wanna keep ad-"

"I know what you said, but, seriously?"

"You gotta introduce me to her one day, Sonic."

"Mirage she's going to freak out!"

"Mm but what are the chances she won't? Pleaseeee? I won't stop bothering you unless you say yesss~" He coos in a sing-song voice.

"Nu uh, ain't happening. Just because you're acting like a kid doesn't mean you're getting it."

"Fine. But whenever you give her ride home, I'll just keep locking the doors."

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Noah leaned back into the recliner, pinching the bridge of his nose out of frustration. Whenever Mirage says he'll do something, he will follow through. He's ambitious like that. So either; Stay with the no but have Mirage be a brat for who knows how long, or, just get it over with.

"Sooo..Is that a yes?"

He was quiet for a bit, before letting out a sigh,"Fine, fine! Yes, it's a yes."

"Hell yeah, baby! Oh I already have so many places to meet up for dates-"

"DUDE."

------

So that concludes my first post! I like how this (somewhat) turned out, but it's a first. I've made some edits to this and the second part will be out soon, so I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting!

Part 2 here!

#rotb mirage x reader #rotb mirage #hes so bbg fr #wanna kiss his dumb cute face so much #transformers #transformerstheriseofbeasts #x reader #first post #transformers x reader #mirage x reader #bayverse

579 notes · View notes

genericpuff · 8 months

Text

The Mishandling of LO’s S3 Mi(n)season Hiatus - Part 3 1/2

Here we go, Part 3 of my analysis of the current FP episodes - a three-parter episode set leading up to the midseason finale of LO.

Part 1

Part 2

Truth is, I had actually forgotten a lot of the weird (and very stupid) shit that happened in this episode, that I thought Episodes 251 and 252 had already offered up the worst that this three parter set could dish out. Boy, was I wrong, because when I went back to check out Episode 253, I was reminded of a reality that my brain had wiped out in an attempt to protect my withering psyche-

I also forgot just how long this episode is. It's so long that I frankly can't even fit it all into this post, so this is gonna be part 3 1/2.

Anyways, let's just get on with it. This is the final stop on our trip into absolute nonsense.

CAUTION: THIS IS PART 3 OF A 3 PART SERIES IN WHICH I WILL BE SPOILING MUCH OF EPISODES 251-253. THIS WILL BE A LONG POST. BRACE YOURSELF.

Well, it's the midseason finale, and what better way to open it up than with the final title card-

Typo and all. It wouldn't be an LO episode without one. Granted, IIRC this typo has been edited out, but the version of the screenshots I have from it feature it in all its original unedited glory. So enjoy that.

And yes, just like the last two times, the title itself only applies to the final cliffhanger, which is an absolute doozy especially for those who were there to experience it in real time.

This is already a bit of a wild opening compared to the last two episodes, but it's quickly revealed that this is laying the foundation for the prophecy that Psyche gave to Apollo back in Episode 252. In true LO fashion, the story can't actually be linear in any regard, we're always segmented from pieces of information at a time. Loyal fans will call this a "writing style", I call it Rachel just trying to get another 70 cents out of me.

That said, I will say the art here is fairly decent, but I think that just goes to show that LO's one of worst features these days - ironically enough - is its coloring. What began as its strongest feature has now become one of its biggest weaknesses due to the sheer laziness in its rendering and the colors become more and more saturated into the grotesque over time. So at this point, you pretty much have to rob these characters of their colors to make them look decent, and of course at that point it just further highlights Rachel's same-face problems. She definitely tried to make them look distinguishable here, at least, with Hestia and Poseidon being the most unique.

Now, this isn't the first time that we've heard of this herb being referenced - it was stated by Hades that Hera was the one to originally poison Kronos with the herb after gaining his trust - but to see it suddenly just pop up and play a role again out of nowhere already gives me a bad feeling in my stomach. It feels like yet another plot device - especially when presented in this type of format - that Rachel is suddenly using to try and seem "unique" in her writing, much like the strange narration we got back during the "Run For Your Life" sequence. It's just once again LO lacking any specific identity, it's always trying to be a million other things at once.

I will say, much of this in and of itself is panel filler. Why? Because the location of the herb doesn't matter. You'll see what I mean in a moment, but the mentioning of Anthedon plays no role here, it's just yet another obligatory "see, I know how to Google things!" lip service moment from Rachel "self-proclaimed folklorist" Smythe.

Anyways, Eros is perplexed by this but Psyche immediately catches on, knowing right away that Apollo is going for Zeus. And this is where we get yet another one of the dumbest sequences in this comic.

(see what I mean that the location of the herb doesn't matter? Because Apollo already got it and laced it into the cupcake).

Now, first of all, the fact that Eros and Psyche believe Kassandra's prophecy is already hilarious in and of itself, because ... well, because it literally defeats the point of her establishing it as a curse in the previous episode. Unless it only works on mortals? It never stated as such, so we literally just have to go with it and pretend not to notice that.

But most of all, of course LO had to play this off as some joke. Like, "hahaha how awkward! I've already eaten the cupcake!" and he still doesn't seem to really be in shock. Zeus has seen what this herb has done to gods before him, and yet his reaction to this is akin to a dad getting upset that he stepped LEGO's that he asked his kid 20 times to pick up off the floor. The whole "record scratch" style formatting of this followed by Zeus' lack of reaction just really makes me not care about any of this, because clearly the story doesn't care either.

But we don't see who he makes these calls to because the comic, of course, can't spend any longer than 10 panels on a single scene, so we cut to Hades and Persephone.

Again, I don't know what the point was of having Hera relay this information to Persephone for her to relay to Hades, aside from the fact that Rachel needed to act smart with Therapy Speak that didn't even apply to Hera's situation (as we talked about in the last part). They gotta make Persephone the center of everyone's world though, so it's Persephone who's delivering this info and trying to come up with the solution.

Hades, though, wants to focus on his wife's birthday the commemoration of spring.

SIR. THE WOMAN YOU WERE IN AN AFFAIR WITH SINCE BEFORE YOUR WIFE WAS BORN IS CURRENTLY GRAPPLING WITH YOUR FATHER WHO ABUSED HER AND IS NOW HAUNTING HER. THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR FLUFFY ROMANCE TIME. THERE IS A CHILD BEING HELD CAPTIVE IN TARTARUS AND LITERALLY NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE.

Anyways, apparently (for some reason) Hades is the one who has to go meet Demeter out front. Even though Hades has literally NOTHING to do with this ceremony, it's not his domain, but Persephone literally says "yep, that's correct" when he asks if he needs to go out to meet Demeter.

This just feels like such a pointless conversation and I don't get what the point of this exact exchange is. Again, this isn't Hades' domain, so I don't see why he needs to be the one to go meet with Demeter.

But then, of course, to make matters worse, this man has the absolute audacity to pretend like he's never done anything wrong to Demeter. As if she should be obligated to be cool with sharing a bench with this man who literally terrorized her for years and then essentially groomed her daughter.

I hate him so fucking much and I can't believe we're supposed to be rooting for him. He has not undergone ANY of the character development necessary for me to want to care about him.

Anyways, Hades has a seat with Demeter, and the conversation is very brief before Hades says that he has a gift for her. And what is it, exactly?

Oh great, Hades. Sure wish you would have had this consideration hundreds of years ago. I fail to see what good this does for her now because it doesn't change the fact that he still cost her the role of Queen of the Mortal Realm and treated her like shit for hundreds of years. This comes across as such a shallow and empty "apology" because it's barely even a "gift", rather something she was OWED back then that he didn't want to hand over for his own selfish reasons. He still comes out the winner here because he's gotten to spend thousands of years being a rich slave-driving oligarch while Demeter has had to maintain the Mortal Realm on her own even without the glory of having a title.

I especially detest this "twist" because it's less of a twist and Rachel finally accepting the fact she couldn't come up with anything better than what her fans had to come up with for her. If this had been the fact the whole time, we would have seen it established back when we first got those flashbacks showing Hades being a total prick to her over the volcanoes. Instead, Rachel dragged it out for weeks and weeks until finally dumping this "twist" that her fans had been talking about all that time. This is yet another one of those "Rachel used her fanbase to come up with her ideas" moments. I know that that seems a little mean and presumptuous, but the fact of the matter is that the writing in this story is such an absolute mess that you just know Rachel's writing by the seat of her pants and has to rely on her audience's headcanons to actually fill in the gaps of her story. Most of the time when people commend her for the "great storytelling" in LO, what they're referring to are things they came up with entirely on their own because of how easy it is to just make assumptions about LO's storyline. Rachel benefits off the story being as vague as possible because then her fanbase will fill in the gaps with their own assumptions and give her all the credit for an idea they came up with.

By the way, to the "self-proclaimed folklorist" who wrote this, the volcanoes were really just entrances into the Underworld. Hades did not own them. They were owned by Hephaestus. And I would argue that the volcanoes were only seen as "entrances" into the Underworld because, fun fact - if you jump into a volcano, you die!

Hades frames his reasoning as feeling like Demeter was pushing him out of the Mortal Realm, but this makes no sense because none of that is on her. He claims that he felt like an "outsider" but the reality is that he made himself that way. He resigned himself to being King of the Underworld, he ate the pomegranate and made the deal with Erebus, and even he stated that he could still actually leave the Underworld, just not for long periods of time. So he was the only one keeping himself away from the Mortal Realm, not Demeter. We even see that in the VHS tape flashbacks where Hades stumbles onto Demeter's property and she lets him sleep it off in her home. So this whole sob story about how he felt "pushed out" by Demeter is such a bad take from someone who's routinely known to make himself out to be the victim. Because Hades can't have an actual reputation for a reason, no, this is a "retelling" told by someone who got all their Greek myth info off Tumblr circa 2016 and the front page of Google, so Hades has to be the misunderstood uwu sad underdog. Even though he routinely does things that reinforce the reputation he has within the comic, like being a slave driver, abusing lower class nymphs, and grooming teenagers.

Minthe showing up for a split second in the background is the best this comic has been since S2. We stan our girl Minthe, fucking run girl, do what Persephone couldn't do. She's the real hero of this story (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

And honestly, I'm sorry, but Demeter really SHOULDN'T be taking the high ground on this. She has more than enough reason to be upset. For a comic that tries to celebrate feminism and holding abusive men accountable, it sure is willing to make the women - often victims of the men - the real villains who have to "do better". Except for Persephone of course. Persephone is married into the system now, she doesn't have to "do better", she's a "boss babe" for being abusive and petty and undeserving of her status because she's the self-insert Y/N character.

So the ceremony for commencing Spring begins. I gotta say, for the final major scene of the mi(n)season finale, the art is severely underwhelming. You can really tell the difference between S3 and S1 art here, there's barely anything extra done to make this scene even half as impactful as the most basic of scenes from S1.

Like, it's fine, but it still feels so half-baked and rushed to attempt to replicate the kind of art that's been gone from the series for years now. The full sequence itself is actually quite lengthy, with a lot of nymph hands just moving around and playing instruments, but it's about as bland as any other panel, so it makes the sequence itself feel dragged out and boring.

This is about as pretty as the sequence gets and it's still not even as good as the original Dread Queen transformation. There's barely any rendering in the skin, and they couldn't even be bothered to make the hands look normal. It's like it's trying so hard to be "original LO" but is fundamentally missing the point of what made the original LO so captivating.

But oh noooo, looks like Persephone did a bad!

Are they actually gonna give her some kind of flaw? Are we gonna FINALLY gonna find out what she traded to Erebus?

No. We're just gonna make her the cause of winter.

Spaghettios.

And that's where I'm leaving this review for now because, as mentioned in the beginning, this episode is a LOT longer than I remember it being. There's still a whole ass segment with Apollo that we need to cover and I don't want to leave it out but I also don't want to do it entirely in text format and I've hit that pesky image limit. So I'll be posting that second part as soon as I can!

That said, I really can't stand this "subversion" by making Persephone the reason for winter.

First of all, because this is a common problem in a lot of H x P "retellings", as many of them fundamentally miss the point of why Persephone is the "Goddess of Spring".

Persephone was not born the "Goddess of Spring". She was born Kore (Κόρη), a maiden born from Demeter. It wasn't until after she was taken by Hades that Demeter, in her grief, took away the harvest and created winter. It was the return of Persephone every six months that brought about the spring, hence, she earned the name, "Goddess of Spring". What these retellings COMPLETELY MISUNDERSTAND is that the gods aren't 'born' with their titles, they're granted these titles by the mortals who comprehend them and write of them as harbingers of their respective elements, stories, and messages. Zeus wasn't "born" the God of the Sky and Heavens, he was granted that title after he overthrew Kronos and took the Heavens for himself. Hades wasn't "born" the God of the Underworld and the Dead, he was granted that title after he became the ruler of the domain of death.

Where these retellings really fuck up is constantly trying to "subvert" the H x P myth in an attempt to romanticize it, thus undoing the point of why Persephone is called "The Goddess of Spring". A Touch of Darkness also made this mistake by putting a "twist" on Persephone's character by having her start out as someone who couldn't make things grow. But if she sucks at making things grow, then why is she still referred to as The Goddess of Spring? In LO, Hades is referred to as "Grandpa Winter" and the seasons already seem to exist as we saw in this episode through the ceremony, so why has she been called "The Goddess of Spring" this whole time?

But I also can't stand this "subversion" because it fundamentally misunderstands the very myth it's trying to "retell". By giving Persephone the "curse" of creating winter, it further robs Demeter of her own agency in this story, more than it already has. It wasn't enough to make Demeter a helicopter mom, it wasn't enough to drive an actual rift between her and her daughter, they had to take away Demeter's entire role in the story and the creation of the seasons and give it to Persephone.

And this is, surprisingly enough, NOT the first time the comic has done this. There are many traits associated with different gods that have been given to Persephone and Hades. The volcanoes belong to Hades rather than Hephaestus, Persephone is "more beautiful than Aphrodite", Thanatos' and Psyche's butterfly symbolism is given to both Hades and Persephone, Aphrodite's symbolism of roses is given to Persephone, the list goes on. Every single plotline has to involve Persephone as the hero, and every single attribute that's commonly associated with other gods has to be granted to H x P in some way to make them better and more interesting than every other cast member in the comic, and yet they still come across as vapid and boring protagonists with nothing to show for themselves.

So to give the ONE thing from the source material that made LO what it is, it comes across as so unbearably cruel.

But then again, we should have seen this coming. After all, Rachel does not cite this as a retelling of The Hymn to Demeter. She simply refers to it as its more unofficial name: The Taking of Persephone.

Look, I get it, the story is meant to be told from Persephone's POV (or at least through the lens of her being the main character) so I can understand why Rachel may have chosen to reword this to make it more clear. But it's really depressing that she went to such an extent with making it about Persephone that she had to rob one of the most integral character of her moment and retribution. Especially when one of the only books in her cited "research" that's primarily about Persephone is, shocked, The Hymn to Demeter, which is listed at the very bottom of every "research" list you can find in LO's history.

LO should have just stayed as self-indulgent fluff. This isn't "subversion", this isn't a "twist", it's just yet another item on the list of making Persephone the most Important One of all. Even when it attempts to be a 'flaw', it fails tremendously by acting as yet another aspect of her being a Mary Sue, because her 'flaw' has come at the cost of another character's story, identity, and strengths. What was originally a tale of grief, retribution, and standing up against a patriarchal system, has now been warped into a consequence of a muddied plot that doesn't have anywhere left to go. For a story that claims to be "feminist", it has ironically missed the original point of its source material entirely, and completely robbed itself of the feminine strength it could have had if it hadn't tried to be "subversive".

I don't really have anything much more to say than that. I could leave it here for good, but we do still have that extra segment to talk about that covers the actual final cliffhanger in this episode, so... we'll see you on the other side.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus

197 notes · View notes