#i still have to go pack a few more boxes sobs
Text
Comfortable
omega!joshua x beta!reader (mentioned alpha!seungcheol x omega!jeonghan, implied ot13 x reader)
genre: angst (kinda) with some good ole fluff
wc: 1223
warnings: reader has periods, mentions of blood, a/b/o dynamics
summary: joshua sees y/n having a bad day and finds a way to make her more comfortable.
a/n: Wow I actually wrote again! As suggested, I'm going to make this and "Understand" into a little series, with snippets of this ot13 x reader pack. I'll try my best to cover each member at least once. Anyways this means I need a name for the series so if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know. Also how did so many of you like/reblog Understand without telling me that I wrote ot8 instead of ot13 :/ (I guess that's what I get for writing at 3 AM). Enjoy!
Joshua knew something was wrong when you emerged from your room wearing your own sweatpants. Half of your closet wasn’t even your own clothes at this point. You had to have gone out of your way to put on something that didn’t originally belong to another pack member. Were you fighting with someone? Were the scents too much? Did you not want to be part of the pack anymore? He tried his best to push the negative thoughts to the back of his mind, but to no avail.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as you trudged into the kitchen in silence, stopping halfway through like you forgot what you came for. You didn’t greet him or even acknowledge his presence in the living room. Okay, something is definitely wrong.
Eventually, you remembered your purpose in the kitchen and scampered to the fridge, opening the freezer. After a few moments of shuffling and mumbles of, “where is it,” he heard a sniffle. Then another. Concerned, Joshua turned around, watching in horror as you dropped to the floor and started sobbing. The scent of distress permeated the room and he was quick to scramble to your side.
He crouched down next to you, reaching out slowly. You lifted your head slightly to look at the man in front of you, before throwing yourself into the omega’s arms. Joshua fell back onto his butt with a small oomph.
He couldn’t care less though, he just wanted to comfort his beta. He hugged you tightly, letting your tears soak into his shirt. After a few minutes, your hiccups started to slow and he felt it was the right time to ask, “what’s got you so worked up?”
You mumbled something into his shoulder. He furrowed his brow trying to understand what you said. “You gotta say it louder honey.”
A beat passed, then you lifted her head and looked away from him. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid if it has you crying on the kitchen floor.” He paused for a second, debating his words. “And clearly something has you upset. You’re wearing your own sweatpants instead of that pair of Jun’s that you really like.”
You snorted. Your scent finally cleared a bit and Joshua gave a small smile. “You don’t have to tell me right now, but I want to make sure you’re okay.”
You sighed and looked longingly at the fridge for a second before turning back to the omega with a deadpan expression. “I thought we still had some Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in the freezer but I guess we don’t.”
Oh. Joshua’s smile grew. “That’s it? I thought you, like, didn’t want to be part of the pack anymore or something.”
An expression of horror crossed your face. “Why on Earth would you think that?”
This time, it was his turn to deadpan. “You came out of your room looking like shit, wearing your own clothes, and then dropped onto the kitchen floor sobbing! Of course I thought something was wrong!”
You rolled your eyes, but Joshua saw the hint of a smile on your lips. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, before softly saying, “the ice cream really doesn’t explain the first half of that though.”
You laughed for a second before pointing to the calendar on the fridge, where a small red dot was drawn on the top right corner of the box marking today’s date. “I’m on my period Joshie. I don’t want to accidentally get blood on Jun’s pants.”
Suddenly, Joshua felt really, really stupid. It was all right in front of his face. “Oh.”
His surprised face was enough to make you cackle, and he giggled to himself at you rolling on the floor. This time laughing instead of crying. Joshua doesn’t really know what possessed him to blurt this out so abruptly, but sure enough he asked, “do you want to come sit in my nest with me?”
It was your turn to be surprised this time. “You want me to sit in your nest with you? Like right now?”
You didn���t think you had ever seen the omega be so shy since you started living with the pack. His cheeks turned red and he looked away from you. “Yeah I mean, if you are okay with it. It really helps me feel better during pre-heat, so I figured it might help you?”
Joshua finally looks back up at you and is relieved to see that you're smiling. You start to stand up, pulling him with you while saying, “okay Joshie lead the way.”
You don’t miss the way his face lights up. He pulls you along to his and Jeonghan’s shared room. He’s grateful to catch the other omega’s scent coming from Seungcheol’s room. He figured he would be there, Jeonghan spends more time there than his own bedroom. And yes, Joshua is selfish enough to want some alone time with you (and maybe have an excuse to have you covered in his scent).
Finally, you both make it to his room. He feels you pause and linger near the door as he begins to rearrange his nest. He knows exactly what you are going to say before the words leave your mouth. “Are you sure you still want me in your nest?”
He deadpans to you for what feels like the millionth time that day and says, “y/n, if I didn’t want you here I wouldn’t have said anything. Now get your butt in my nest before I carry you there myself.”
Slowly, you approach the side of his bed, unsure of how to enter without messing up his hard work. You don’t miss the hoodie that you thought you lost pushed into the corner closest to his pillow. You run your hands across it before Joshua begins to get impatient and finally tackles you into the nest. As you make contact with the bed, his nose accidentally brushes against your neck. He takes a deep breath and inhales as much of your scent as he possibly can. Before he can realize what he’s doing, he’s pushing his nose into your gland and scenting you.
Your body stiffens and he pulls back, realizing his mistake. “Oh my god I’m so sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to scent you without asking first.”
He feels relieved when he notices the happy undertones peeking out in your scent. Your body relaxes underneath him and you grin up at him before saying, “do it again.”
Joshua doesn’t waste a single second, immediately burying his face back in your neck. A contented sigh leaves your mouth, and god, he would do anything to hear that sound for the rest of his life. You don’t leave him much time to dwell on it though, because you’re suddenly pushing him onto the bed and scenting him like your life depends on it.
He can’t help but giggle as your hair tickles his face and neck. “I guess you’re feeling better?”
You nod into his neck before pulling away to look at him and say, “it's still not ice cream but I’ll take it.”
Joshua is one step ahead of you though, he’s got DoorDash pulled up on his phone already and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream in his cart.
#joshua hong#joshua hong x reader#svt#svt x reader#hong jisoo#hong jisoo x reader#svt imagine#joshua hong imagine#hong jisoo imagine#a/b/o#lu writes#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagine#understand series
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something to Fight For (Series) Part 18 Joel Miller x f!Reader
Rating: 18+
THIS CHAPTER'S TRIGGER WARNINGS: Emotional Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Drug Addiction, Mentions of Death
A/N: I rewrote this fucking chapter about 8 times. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. It was a real hard one to write, ya'll. A lot of my own shit is mixed up in there with the story. MC is part me after all (and part all of you). So it was hard. Harder than I think I expected it to be. So I dunno how it ended up. Couldn't re-read it too much. I really need your reviews on this one folks. It's real important to me, 'specially now. I need to know how you feel, the good and the bad. I gotta get this right.
Story Masterlist HERE
You're overcome.
There's no other word for it. You've been sobbing in your shower for the last hour. After running from the barn, taking a taxi home and bursting into your suite you immediately fell to your knees, the warm water pelting down onto your back.
It's as close to being held, at being soothed that you can manage right now.
You can’t stop replaying tonight’s events. The song Joel chose. The one of longing and deep yearning.
"She may be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough and ready years"
But also of a love gone by. A regret.
"She may be the face I can't forget
A trace of pleasure or regret"
Is that how he views you? A love gone by?
Of course he does.
Paul's engagement ring is in the velvet box it came in. It's being returned tomorrow. You'd have done it tonight if it weren't so late.
You need to end things. It's the only way forward. No matter what, no matter if Joel is in love with Tess, no matter if you'll never be with him, you *can't be with Paul.
You don't love Paul. It's obvious to everyone including yourself. It's been obvious for so long. You've wasted so much fucking time and energy on him.
You think of all the boxes packed here, the ones you were going to move to Leander. You think of how strange and sad it is that your whole life can be put into less than twenty cardboard boxes.
And even though Joel can't be yours and even though that hurts more than words can begin to say, you are so fucking grateful for him. You are so grateful you met Joel Miller because he's shown you what love is. True, caring love.
Even if it's not yours to keep.
You will never forget the way he looked singing tonight. The goodbye song from his heart to yours. You'd felt it. The bittersweet finality of your time.
More tears are coming.
"I love him," you say to the tile in front of you. You need to hear the words spoken out loud in the universe, even if it's hidden in the fall of the shower and heard only by you. "I love Joel."
You need to see Joel. You need him to hold you. Need his calming presence. You need to wrap your arms around him and press your face into his neck and just feel breathe that sweet, spicy scent of home.
He's not yours.
You don't get to see Joel. You don't get to have him. He's Tess'. You can't be his friend, you want him too much. So what does that leave?
That leaves you replaced and alone.
You pull yourself from the shower, shivering as you towel off, drying your hair the best you can. You go to your dresser and pull out one of the few remaining pieces of clothing there.
Joel's shirt.
You've washed it so it doesn't smell like him anymore. Doesn't smell like the laundry detergent he uses or that wood shavings scent he sometimes carries. But when you put it on it feels like he's there in some small way. You pull it on over your sleep shorts hiccupping a soft cry.
You remember so long ago, standing in Joel’s den as you pondered if he just played guitar or if he sang as well.
“S’weird how something can make you feel so good and then outta nowhere become the pain”
That’s how it feels now. Joel, the thing that makes you feel good has also become the pain. The wedding is tomorrow. You need to collect yourself by then. You'll see Joel and you need to be controlled. You need to be okay. You need to not ruin this for him.
Because you do love Joel. You love him in a way you never expected to love or be loved. You love him so much that you are determined to make his life better. Determined that you will not take away what he has carved out for himself.
You crawl under the covers, your face buried in the pillow.
"I l-love Joel," you whisper it again into the pillow only now it's broken by sobs. You curl up under the covers, your body trembling. "I love him I love him."
You feel lost. So hopelessly lost.
And then the phone rings.
///
It's late in the Miller house. Quiet. Sarah's been asleep for hours thanks to the sugar crash Bill's cupcakes provided.
Tommy's asleep in the basement apartment, exhausted from the evenings festivities and anticipating a long day tomorrow.
Or, as Joel glances over at the bright neon numbers of his digital clock, later today.
He's laying in bed, one arm behind his head, one hand over his sternum as he stares at the ceiling. In this pose he feels every breath in, every breath out. The studying rhythm bringing him peace. It's impossible to shake the image of you free from his mind.
He'd done it out of love for you. Out of a need for you to know how much you'd changed him. Changed his heart, his outlook, even his fucking idea on the concept of romantic love.
But the look on your face? The way it had fallen before you had dashed out?
Sarah had been bouncing up and down in her seat when he finished his performance, hugging him tightly and throwing things at him as he tried to contain his disappointment ("Daddy you sing so pretty!" And "Daddy will you teach me guitar?") Everyone was clapping him on the back, telling him it was wonderful, so romantic, that Tommy and Maria loved it.
He refused to let his eyes search for you, knowing you were gone. He refused to let his heart believe that you'd come back.
Joel knows he has to stay away from you.
Knows that singing tonight was a terrible idea because not only did he make it so obvious to everyone that he’s so deeply in love with you, but he also made you cry.
Watching your face crumple, watching the way your eyes fell to the ground at the last string. He’d thought you’d be happy singing, Maria had said how often you’d felt happy when you did. But that wasn’t happiness he saw tonight. It was pain.
Joel doesn’t know what to do. He feels so lost.
And then the phone rings.
///
"Joel, I need you."
Four little words over the phone at 2 am.
Four little words that have Joel stumbling out of bed, murmuring he'll be there before he's pulling on his jeans and a t-shirt.
He's half asleep, his mind whirring. He goes to the basement, rapping on the door. An equally tired Tommy answers, blinking in the light.
"She- I gotta go," Joel tries to explain in a rush. "I'll explain later. Can you come watch Sarah?"
Tommy gives a few bleary eyed blinks before nodding and following his brother up the steps.
Tommy settles himself on the sofa as Joel runs out the door. And all the younger Miller can think before he falls asleep is:
Finally.
///
Joel's shoulders nearly take up the doorframe. You notice this when the rap of his knuckles pulls you sniffling from the sofa and you open the door to him.
His eyes are sleepy, but wide. His hair is tousled from sleep and you can see the indent of his pillow faint in his left cheek. He scans your face, concerned.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm so sorry," you say as soon as Joel takes a step towards you. "I never should have called so late. I’m so so sorry, Joel."
"Just let me in," Joel insists, his hand coming to go to your cheek and then dropping. He doesn’t want to overstep. "Tell me what happened."
You try to make the words come out; you force them crackling and trembling out into the world.
"I don't want... I don't want to go back."
Joel doesn't have any context, but that doesn't stop him from rushing in. He closes the door behind him gently before bringing you into his arms. Your forehead drops against his sternum as he does this, your tears warm and free flowing.
As he rubs a soothing hand along your spine he realizes you're wearing his t-shirt again. For some reason this small thing makes Joel's eyes wet.
You're so warm in his arms, trembling against him as you hold in sobs. He wants to kiss away the tears rolling down your cheeks. He wants to carry you to bed and strip every bad memory and experience from you with his mouth and body.
That's not what she needs right now. She needs a friend.
He takes your hand in his, leading you to the sofa. A place where you can talk. The fireplace is on, bathing you in a warm flickering glow that makes his breathing hitch when he glances over at you.
Your eyes are puffy, your nose red and he thinks you might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
He can't help himself but reach for you, bringing you to his lap as he sits. There's nothing sexual about it, just the need to hold you close, to make you feel safe there. Your arms wrap around his neck and he rocks you, his arms banding around your waist.
"Honey," Joel whispers into the crook of your neck. "What's wrong?"
Honey.
You melt into him just as easily as the word. This was a terrible idea. What had you been thinking? How could you ask Joel here?
Because of the song, your traitorous heart cries. Because you love him! Because his face is the first one you want to see!
You hold him tightly to you, unable to break from him just yet. Unable to tell him the awful ugliness. Instead your mind drifts to the rehearsal dinner. Your hand plays with the fabric of Joel's shirt, twisting it under your fingers.
"Joel . . . The song."
Immediately he tenses and you can't see his face, but you can imagine it. Eyes nervous, mouth hooked slightly to the side. The same way he’d held his face that night in his den, your hand around a glass of soda.
"Maybe one day we'll have reason to make music again.”
Joel smiles softly around his glass. "Maybe."
"Did you like it?" he murmurs into your hair. You can't help but hold him tighter, your eyes filling. He sounds so unsure of himself, so worried about what you’ll say.
"Yeah, I loved it. It was beautiful."
You feel him physically relax in your arms at this admission. The tension, the uncertainty is drained from him. You force yourself not to tilt your face to his, not to search for his mouth with yours.
"I thought you didn't play anymore,” you tell his shoulder.
"I don't. One time performance I guess. Shoulda charged for tickets."
There, the humor you both needed to break the intense spell that weaves itself when you're in Joel's arms. You're thankful to him for that. Now you can pull back, still seated in his lap, but in control of yourself.
"I hope you keep playing forever."
Joel smiles wistfully at you, nodding. You let his dark eyes search your face. You let his hand cup your cheek, his wide thumb brushing away the tears there.
"I never told you about why I went back to Chicago," you sniffle. "Why I didn't call."
"You don't have to tell me," Joel insists. "It doesn't change why I'm here. I'll stay here all night just holdin' you if it's what you need."
He doesn't want to push you, doesn't want you upset because of him. This time in Chicago, the separation, it feels like an ugly part of your shared history that he just wants you both to forget.
"No, I want to tell you," you say in a sorrowful voice. "You deserve to know everything."
Joel nods and he wants to keep you there in his lap. But you shuffle back from him, sitting across from him on the sofa. It takes several minutes of staring into the flames of the fire before you feel you can begin.
"My dad has been in and outta the hospital a lot," you explain, looking at your hands in your lap. "It's because he's waiting for a liver transplant."
Joel is shocked. The way you spoke of Chicago, of your family, he'd assumed your father was dead.
"The thing is," you continue, unaware of his shock. "He can't get one unless he stops using and, uh, he won't."
"Using?" Joel is still taken aback by the revelation, not thinking clearly.
"Coke and heroin mostly," you say with a wince. "He's a drug addict."
Your father has been a junkie for most of your life.
And it's in part because you exist.
The same year you were born he'd gone to a party without your mom. She was tired, still breastfeeding you and encouraged him to go out and have some fun.
He did.
The kind of fun that had started as a party drug passed around and ended with him burning through the family savings and growing gaunt in the coming years. The kind of fun that had him doing eight balls during your soccer games and shooting up on your graduation day.
You were four when he first went into rehab at the insistence of your mother. A few weeks before your fifth birthday he'd come home sober and ready to change his life back around. You hadn't really understood what was happening. You'd just been so happy to be a family again.
That photo on your desk, the one the flood destroyed, the one that meant so much to you is from the only birthday party of yours that your father ever attended sober.
In the passing years he turned to drugs again but he hid it well from you and your mother. You never knew the severity of it until you turned fifteen.
Until you came home one day from your part time job at the Chicago humane shelter to find him covered in piss and his own vomit and barely responsive.
He died on his way to the hospital, a full forty two seconds he was clinically dead. Until they revived him and he sputtered back to life. You remember all of this because it was you in the ambulance with him.
Your mother was at work, unreachable. Your dad's sporadic unemployment meant she worked two jobs.
So it was a fifteen year old you with tears running down her cheeks that watched this unfold, completely terrified.
You were sixteen when he got out of rehab for the second time and promised his life was changed forever. He and your mother had almost two years of no fighting - a change of pace for you who had grown up to their constant shouting matches.
You were eighteen when he relapsed at a friend's house party. Twenty two and twenty five when he went back to the various rehabs that your mother always paid for in more ways than one.
And then he just stopped trying in the coming years. Still using, but not enough for your sweet mother to kick him out.
It's like he's infected by some insidious being inside him. A forever hungry thing that takes and takes, warping your once sweet father into something subhuman. A being that is frighteningly underweight, hollowing his cheeks and making his eyes bulbous in his face. He isn't your father anymore, not really.
But he is. That's the worst part.
Because if he wasn't your Dad you could hate him.
You tell Joel all of this, it spills from you like a stream and he sits across from you, nodding and never speaking. When your voice hitches or the tears begin fresh he instinctively moves towards you on the sofa, stopped only by your raised palm. You need to get all of this out and if he holds you, you never will.
"That night you left, like, two hours later my mom called me to tell me that my dad had a really bad seizure," You shake your head, wanting to stop the memory. "And she sounded so scared on the phone and I just had to get back. I had to get there, back home to help. I was on autopilot."
Joel recalls the hollow look in your eyes when he went to see you that day.
"I know you came to see me but I don't even remember it," you tell Joel. "All I could think of was that I fucked up, that I should have been there in Chicago with my mom."
Joel is stiff, watching you without speaking.
"And I got home and it was just as awful as I thought it would be." You start to shudder at the memory. "My dad could barely talk. And when he did all he wanted to do was blame me for leaving. Telling me I was selfish for leaving my mom and him. Telling me that without me around to help pay for things that there was more pressure on him and my mom to afford their place."
You break off only to hold in a sob, breathing deeply and continuing.
"And he was right, you know. Coming to Austin for school was so selfish of me. I could've just as easily gone to school back in Chicago." A look of disgust crosses your features as you talk now to yourself. "So fucking selfish."
"No," Joel's voice is quiet but firm. "That's not true."
You're ignoring him though, so caught up in your own devastation. Your eyes are shut tightly and your head is giving short jerks.
"I just run from everything, Joel. I ran from Chicago and I ran to Austin because I thought that if I kept running far away enough that, that his ugliness could never touch me. But it lives in me, Joel. That ugliness is in me forever."
Joel's eyes have grown glassy, even now he remains sitting there looking at you with unending patience and his hands twitching to hold you.
"I stayed there for a month,” you continue, not even aware that your head is tilted so low Joel has to lean forward to hear. “A month of my dad telling me I was selfish. A month of my mom trying to tell me that it's just his disease talking. A month of seeing your name come up on my phone and wanting so badly to talk to you but just thinking about how horrible I was and how you and Sarah deserved better."
You force yourself to breathe between sentences, your air hitching in your chest. Joel is staring at you, his eyes swimming over your features. Horrible? You?
"So when I eventually got back to Austin I was just so fucking sad, Joel. So tired. I couldn't get out of bed. I didn't want to be around anyone. Not you, not Sarah. I couldn't do that to you guys." You swipe at your eyes with the wrist of your sweater. "I should have called you and seen you but I was so selfish only thinking about me and how I felt.
Your eyes jerk open when you feel the warmth of Joel's hand on yours. He's leaning across the sofa, his wide hand placed gently over yours. A thumb gently strokes your knuckles.
"No," Joel breathes in a voice of gentle warmth. "Never selfish. Never. It was me that fucked up."
"No."
"Yes," Joel tells you and you can see the way his dark eyes are damp. "You are the least selfish person I've ever met."
"Oh yeah?" you challenge, your chin wobbling. "You know why I called you tonight? Because my mom just called to beg me to come home again. Apparently my dad's saying that if I move back to Chicago that he'll go to treatment again. That he'll stop using. That he'll be able to get the transplant."
Joel's eyes widen but he remains silent.
"And I don't want to go," you say, lips trembling. "I don't want to go back there. I don't want to fucking go even if it would mean helping because I'm a horrible, selfish cunt."
The sobs that burst out of you are pure anguish that you muffle in a pillow to keep Maria from hearing all those floors above. Joel is physically holding himself back, dying to embrace you but giving you your space.
All he can do is stroke your head, desperate to convey all of his care and affection for you through the gesture.
"He was always promising he was going to get clean," you say hollowly, moving away from the pillow and Joel's touch. "And my mom, she just, she just kept carrying on like there was hope. But there is no hope. Just this endless, bleak, fucking pain."
Your eyes meet his and you're overcome. You stand abruptly, feeling the scrutiny of Joel as sharply as if he were stabbing you.
"Joel, just go. I'm sorry I called. This was a terrible idea to have you come here. This isn't your problem. I'm so fucking sorry."
Joel stands and for a moment you think he's going to leave. You think that might be a relief because you're feeling too vulnerable, too exposed.
You aren't expecting Joel to quietly close the distance between your bodies and wordlessly pull you into his arms. You're shocked more however at how willingly you allow this, how easy it is to fall back into his embrace. To tangle your arms around his neck and hold him as tightly as you can. He's warm against you, his cheek resting on the top of your head as you press your face to his shoulder.
"I hate him. I hate what he put my mom and me through." Your chin is trembling as you blink back the onslaught of more tears. "And I hate that I love him so much because he's my fucking dad."
Your hands are gripping Joel around the middle as he holds you, his broad shoulders curling, his arms tightening.
"I hate that I just want him to die," you cry through clenched teeth. "To stop holding on. To bring my mother some fucking peace."
More tears come.
Joel thinks of James and the cocaine and how upset you'd been. He'd thought you were justified in the way you'd acted, the heated punch across James slimy face for treating you so rudely. But now he realizes why you'd been shamed, so terrified of your own fury.
"And I hate that I'm just like him."
You break off as Joel's large hand is cupping the back of your head, and he's gently swaying you, the way a mother would a newborn.
"It's okay," Joel murmurs in your hair. "I've got you. I've got you."
You don't know why, but this quiet utterance from him is that breaks you, and the wall against him that you've built so high for yourself collapses. Heavy sobs break free from you, stark mournful things that you muffle in Joel's shoulder. They make your body jerk, causing Joel to hold you tighter against him.
"Shhh," Joel soothes. "Just breathe, baby. Slowly, like me."
He takes a few steadying breaths, urging you to match the slow pace. After a few shuddering exhales you do so, your breathing staggering into a steady, even rhythm.
"Good," Joel whispers. "Good."
"I'm just like him," you again whisper the words you've only ever thought into Joel's collar. "I'm selfish and horrible and -"
"You're nothing like that," Joel assures you, pulling you back so that he can look into your eyes when he tells you this. "Not at all."
"Really? What do you call what we did in your kitchen?" You scoff. "Knowing that we were with other people? Or how about when you pushed me up against that wall over there?"
Joel is silent, only his eyes move around your face while the rest of him is like a statue. He doesn't need to look at the wall to know what you're talking about.
"I can't stop wanting you," you say with a look of torment in your eyes. "I can't fucking stop, Joel. I try and I try and I can't. I'm just like my dad. I want what I shouldn't. I want what's only going to hurt other people and hurt myself."
"Honey-"
"I can't stop," you repeat weakly, trying to step back from him. "So I have to stay away."
Joel hands are on either side of your face again and he's peppering your face with soft kisses and everything in you wants to rejoice because Joel is here and he's holding you.
"Don't stay away from me," Joel's tells you as he rains compassion down on you. "Never."
You can't keep him. He's not yours.
Both of you are being incredibly selfish right now. Tess is probably at home right now taking care of Sarah and Daniel. Tess who was made to be a mother. Tess who understands Joel. What is wrong with you?
Selfish.
Horrible.
"Stop, Joel," you say twisting from him, out of his grip. "I told you all of this so that you can understand why I won't be around as much. But I'll call Sarah every other night, if she still wants to speak to me. And when I come back for visits I'll take her to the movies and-"
It's like Joel is only just now noticing all the moving boxes. He's glancing around as you talk, his eyes widening.
"You're not actually thinking of moving back to Chicago," Joel interrupts in a horrified voice. "You can't be."
"Just for a few months, just until he's settled in rehab-"
"No," Joel is wild-eyed shaking his head, his eyebrows saddling. "You can’t. You just. . . You can’t do this. You can’t sacrifice everything. Your work - that sanctuary. You won’t come back. I know you, you’ll feel like you have to take care of your dad. You’ll stay there."
"It's complicated-"
"It's not."
"Joel, my dad needs me."
"That was a horrible thing to lay on your shoulders," Joel says and he looks furious and sad all at once. "And I'm sorry for your parents, I really am, but no. You can't go. You can't do this to yourself."
"I have to go," you tell Joel. You falter, pulling back from him, needing to be out of his orbit.
Joel stands there as you pull back from him, looking so out of place in your suite with its low ceilings, the space almost emptied of furniture. He’s like this beam you can’t look away from, this tall broad angel with eyes that look at you as if you’re actually worth something.
He breaks off, uttering a pained "Jesus Christ" and you're sure he's going to yell at you about Paul just like Maria did.
You’re sure he’ll run from the room shouting that you’re selfish. Positive that he’ll tell you that you’re not worth all this hassle.
Instead Joel does something you're not expecting.
He crosses the room over to you and slips to his knees, holding you around the middle before he presses his forehead gently against your abdomen. It shocks you, this action and this pose from him. He sits like this in silence for several minutes, holding you, breathing against you in heavy shudders. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, glancing down at him in confusion.
"I'm so sorry," he finally whispers, a little murmur against you. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there."
"I didn't need you to be," you insist, your hand going to his neck, urging his face up to look at you. He won't move his face from where it is lodged against your stomach. He can’t.
"But I should have been," Joel insists, his voice a low rasp.
“It was so long ago.”
Almost six months since the awful incident. And you don’t carry it with you, not like Joel apparently has because now his head tilts back from your abdomen.
"I never should have walked away that day. I should have stayed. If I had none of this Tess and Paul shit would have happened. I would’ve gone back with you to Chicago." Joel's voice sounds thick with escaping emotion. "I ruined us."
His beautiful eyes open and you watch as tears slip down his cheek. You suppose that's what makes you freeze up, your heart sinking. You've never seen Joel cry before and the sight is as shocking as it is heartbreaking.
"Forgive me," he whispers brokenly. "Please."
You can see the anguish in his features and realize he's been living in it since you got back. This hellish landscape of grief and regret. He's been wearing it like armor weighing him down.
"Nothing to forgive," you tell him honestly, your knuckles trailing down his cheek to wipe the tears away. "Joel it was never a matter of fault. It was just how things happened."
His head drops against your stomach again and you can feel his strong shoulders begin to quake jerkily.
"I was fucking weak."
"You were human," you reply, rubbing at his shoulders, wanting to soothe him as much as he wants to soothe you. "You couldn't have known."
"I just left you there, all hollow and quiet and I walked away," Joel's voice is ragged. "I should have stayed. That's what you do when you love someone."
Love.
It hits you with a strong, visceral acuity. Starting in your rib cage and then spreading outward, causing everything in your body to wake up. It makes you breathless to hear it, though you've long suspected it, secretly hoped for it.
"Joel-"
"I'll never stop being sorry for it," Joel tells you simply, his face tilting up to look into yours. "Never."
Without thinking your hand is gently carding through his tousled curls. His eyes shutter closed as he leans into your hands. The moment is overwhelming in austerity and you need to break it.
"Not even if I asked nicely?" you say with a teasing lilt to your voice.
His eyes open and he gives you a small, watery smile before he stands. He towers over you again, taking your face in his wide hands and now it’s you leaning into his touch.
"I'd do anything you asked."
And all at once you know he's going to kiss you and that you want him to.
He tilts his head forward and lips move over yours so gently that you sigh into his mouth. Your entire body sags towards him and instead of the fervent kisses from not that long ago, this kiss is different. It’s soft and sweet and unhurried. His soft lips move over yours, taking time to memorize how your pliant mouth moves under his, the way you inhale softly when you break apart, his wide hands still cupping your face.
Tess.
Marmalade.
Selfish.
"I'm sorry I called," you sniff, tilting your face from him. "I never should have done that. You should go, Joel."
"You want me to go?" Joel's voice is a low aching sound. You can't look at him. You can't look into those intense, beautiful eyes of his so instead you face away from him.
"Yes."
You feel yourself floundering, that unmistakable voice in your head screaming to run. Run from the conflict. Run from your feelings.
Run. Run.
"You're lyin'," Joel insists.
"I'm not."
You feel his strong fingers on either side of your chin, dragging your face to meet his. But still your eyes remain closed.
"Look at me."
You shake your head the best that you can in his grip.
"I can't have you here, Joel. I'm sorry I called you, it was wrong.”
Joel's hand is flying to slide around the back of your neck. "Stop."
"You’re with Tess," you insist with a shake of your head, pulling back from his sweet touch. "She's perfect for you. She'll make the best mom to Sarah. It makes sense, Joel. You have to see that."
"I broke it off with Tess," Joel bites off. “I don’t want Tess.”
Your eyes fly open."What?"
"How could I keep dating her? I knew I couldn't stop wanting you. I never will." Joel feels his neck growing warm. "And she told me what she asked you to do, to stay away from Sarah."
You nod brokenly, feeling the tears gathering just at the memory compounded by this new guilt.
"Why would you do that?"
"Because I just want what's best for you and Sarah. A chance at a real family."
You've ruined this for him. Joel's chance at a family, something for himself. Something for his own. Selfish like your dad.
"Go back to Tess, Joel. Tell her it was a mistake."
"I'm not gonna do that."
"You have to, Joel. She wants you."
“And you don’t?”
It hangs there, the truth between you. If you admit it, it’s over. Any pretense you would have carried is gone. He’ll choose you because of this unknowable, untenable connection. But you’re not good for him. You’re not the kind of woman Joel Miller needs. You’ll take and take from him, leaving him with nothing in the end. It’s how your father operates, and you are your father’s daughter. Your engagement isn't even officially off. You're moving to Chicago. So what? You'll confess you love Joel? Make him feel compelled to follow you to Chicago? And what about Sarah? You're going to disrupt her life too? How is that not the most selfish thing in the world?
“No.”
Saying it physically hurts.
You love Joel. You love this man in front of you. And it’s precisely that love that sends you pushing back from him. But you’re stopped by his hand on the back of your neck again, holding you there.
"Don't," Joel says through clenched teeth."Don't stand there and lie to me of all people. You wanna lie to yourself? Fine, but not to me. Never to me. I don’t deserve it."
It is. It is a fucking lie.
"Tell me the truth," Joel urges gently, pleading. "Tell me to my face that you don't want me as much as I want you.”
You try to form the words that tell him exactly that, but you can't.
They don't exist.
Joel nods in understanding, his warm eyes even warmer. But he can see the fear in your expression, the panic.
"Just let me take care of you tonight," Joel whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek. "Please."
You're trembling against his palm, tears coating your lashes. "Okay."
Joel seems surprised by your easy acceptance but he nods, reaching down to take your hand in his.
"Let's go to bed."
You follow him without question to the bed. He shrugs off his jacket, watching you watching him. You're eyes are owlish in your face, the tension clear. Joel brings himself up on the bed still dressed in his jeans and shirt. He lays overtop the sheet before bringing it back for you to crawl under.
You hesitate. There is nothing more enticing than the thought of Joel making love to you right now. But it feels wrong, rushed. Too many things going on in your mind.
"I just wanna hold you," Joel explains when he sees your eyes nervously move from him to the bed. "If that's okay?"
Relief floods you and you nod, moving under the covers of your bed. And all the aching loneliness, all the terror of being lost? It’s gone. It’s gone the second you snuggle up against Joel in your bed.
His broad hand moves through your hair gently, moving it back from your flushed face before stroking it in tenderly. He stares at you, barely blinking. You muse that you could have entire conversations like this, just staring into each other's eyes. That perhaps you're having one right now.
His eyes are so soft. How can a man made up of sharp angles and broad planes look at you with eyes so fucking soft?
"How can you look at me like that?" you ask blinking through new tears. "After everything I've told you how can you lie there and look at me like I'm not a piece of shit?"
"Because you're not," Joel replies swiftly. "None of what your dad did is your fault. How could it be?"
"If I was there-"
"He'd still be using," Joel tells you simply. "And he'd have a new thing or person to blame for it."
"Even if that's true," you insist. "I'm his kid. I should go back."
"You're telling me if I told a grown up Sarah she had to move back home to take care of me, even if I'd barely been in her life, even if she had a whole life somewhere else, you'd tell her she was selfish for not doing it?"
Your eyes widen. Sarah. Sweet, genuine Sarah. No, you wouldn't blame her. But that's Sarah.
"She's just a kid-"
"Same age as when your dad started." Joel's eyes are watery. "How come you're so unkind to yourself? Why don't you think you deserve good things?"
"A lifetime of experience," you reply darkly.
///
And for a moment there is sudden clarity for Joel that hits him in such a way he's shocked he never understood it as easily before.
In the job you chose, in the immediately natural way you were with the screaming Daniel, even quicker than you were with his sweet and calm Sarah.
In the way these animals, hurt and abandoned and ignored are so much more than just pitiful creatures that pass along your desk in files.
You see yourself in them.
You see yourself in their haunted eyes and terrible histories. You see it in the plaintive cry of the frustrated Daniel. In this world that turns its back and its ears to them you want desperately to embrace them, to hold them to you and communicate a perfect, unending love for them.
Because no one did that for you.
Your mom tried, Joel is sure of it. But love is hard to share when so much of it is reserved for a husband in constant crisis. When you're a frazzled mother working two jobs to keep your mortgage and your marriage and family together. Love is there of course, but it's not overt. Not like you crave.
The kind of love that Maria gives you without question. The kind of love Joel would give to you every fucking day if you said you wanted him to be yours.
"I know I have no right to ask you to stay or demand anything from you, but, fuck, please don't do this," Joel whispers earnestly. "Don't move back to Chicago."
You're silent.
“If you do you’ll never come back,” Joel murmurs, his voice full of so many emotions it would be impossible to pick just one. “I know you. You’d sacrifice everything for him.”
“I. . . I don’t. . .”
Your eyes are so heavy, almost as heavy as your heart. You’ve shared so much with Joel, brought up so many painful memories it feels like you’ve run a marathon. Your head tilts against the pillow.
"Go to sleep, baby," Joel tells you, holding himself back from kissing you. "I'm here. Just sleep."
When you finally fall asleep Joel continues to look at you. His dark eyes travel the curve of your cheek, takes in the length of your lashes and the way your mouth looks half open in sleep. He memorizes each part of your face knowing that this may be his only chance to do so.
You’re engaged. You still have that connection to your parents in Chicago. There is so much that exists in this world to take you away from him.
He still sees it this way, outside forces wanting to rip you from him, as if he has some claim on you. He doesn't care if Paul gave you a ring. You’re his. You’re his and he has never stopped feeling this way, even though he's tried. He doesn't know he'll ever stop.
He stops himself from kissing your sleeping mouth on more than one occasion during the night, desperate for that contact if this is really the end.
It can't be the end. It can't.
You sigh in your sleep, shuffling closer against him for warmth or for comfort. Joel allows this, his eyes skipping closed at the calm your nearness brings him.
I'll never ask for anything as long as I live. Just let her be mine.
He finally falls asleep with your soft breathing in the crook of his neck
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#smut#dad joel miller#fanfic#fanfiction#joel miller#pedro pascal
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
Purring with love
PAIRING || Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader
WORDCOUNT || 4.5K
SUMMARY || As you're walking to your car through the pouring rain, you suddenly spot a completely drenched cardboard box in the bushes. As you peek in, you find an abandoned little kitten who is only a few weeks old at most, so you decide to nurse it back to health, creating a strong bond between you two in the process.
RATING || Mature (M)
TAGS || Sugar Daddy AU. Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark. Sugar Baby!Reader.
WARNINGS || Unspecified age gap. Use of nicknames (Sugar). Mutual pining. Idiots in love. Overheard love confession. Animal abandonment. Animal rescue. Light sexual tension. Sexual content.
A/N || This amazing story has been brought to life with love and support from my bestie @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'll forever be grateful! Thank you for proofreading, loving, and supporting me because this wouldn't have existed without your help! Eu te amo 3000 💙
EVENTS
Masterlist || @avengersbingo || Clothes sharing
Masterlist || @fandom-free-bingo Wild || 'Hoping for more good days'
Banners: @nicoline1998enilocin || Divider: @rookthornesartistry || Photo: @ccbsrmsf1
Main Masterlist || Tony Stark Masterlist || AU Masterlist
You sigh as you look outside from your place in the library, where you have been holed up all day to finish a few assignments. As soon as your alarm goes off, notifying you that it's time to go home, you quickly pack up your stuff to get to your car before the rain worsens.
Seeing how the clock is already creeping closer to 7 p.m., it is relatively quiet on Campus, except for the few evening classes that are still being taught. As you go to the door, you adjust your jacket and put the hood on, hoping to shield you from the rain for as long as possible.
With a last deep breath, you swing open the doors leading to the parking lot while inwardly scolding yourself for parking your car so far away today. With a bit of a jog, you make your way to the entrance of the lot, and you can already see your trusty car when your attention is suddenly pulled away.
Right next to the parking lot entrance is a small box that is half open. The rain is steadily pouring inside as you go over to see what is in it and throw it away if it's nothing important. When you crouch next to it, you forget all about the rain as you see a tiny, pitch-black kitten lying in a rapidly growing puddle.
The first thing you do is take off your jacket, rain be damned, and pick up the kitten to keep it warm inside. It's clear that it's still alive as their chest moves with every breath, but as you run to your car, you can't stop the tears from flowing, thinking about how anyone could even begin to think about doing something cruel like this.
As soon as you're dry in your car, you look for something to keep it warmer, suddenly remembering the blanket you have in your backseat. You wrap up the kitten safely, and it doesn't take long to stop shivering in the warmth.
Meanwhile, you find your phone at the bottom of your bag, and with tears streaming down your face steadily, you call the first person who comes to mind: Tony.
It only takes him two rings to pick up, and the worry on his face is immediately visible when he sees and hears how distraught you are.
"Who do I need to hunt down, Sugar?" Tony asks, worry laced in his voice as he sits down. He is technically in the middle of a meeting, but when he sees you calling, he drops everything and answers immediately.
"I-I don't k-know," you stammer out between sobs, tears constantly wetting your cheeks the second you try and wipe them away. "I-I found a-a kitten in a b-box in the p-pouring rain." More sobs make their way through your body as you look down at the kitten on your lap, your camera now aimed at them as well.
"Oh, poor Sugar," Tony whispers, his brows knitted together in concern.
"Are they still alive? Can you take them to a nearby vet?" he asks, and you nod, finally calming down a bit now that you're talking to Tony. His voice always manages to calm you during moments like these, and you wish he were there with you now, but the FaceTime call would have to suffice right now.
"Y-yeah, they're still breathing. Do you think I can keep them if they're okay? I can't abandon them in a shelter, and maybe I won't be as lonely in my apartment if they're around as well," you ask, your tears and sobs having reduced to sniffles now.
"Absolutely, you can, Sugar. Please keep me updated about their well-being, okay? I will ensure they have the best medical care and at-home care," he says, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly at his words.
"Thank you, Tony. And I'm sorry for interrupting your meeting," you whisper, guilt creeping into your gut.
"Please, there's no need to apologize, Sugar. You know you can call me no matter what, and I'll be there for you, alright?" he asks, and you nod. After your last goodbyes, he returns to his meeting as if nothing happened, and you look up the directions to the closest emergency vet.
Luckily, it's only a 15-minute drive, and as soon as you're there, the vet will immediately see you and the little kitten.
"So, what happened to them?" the vet asks, but you shrug.
"I found them in a box near the college, so I figured I'd give them a fair shot at life and bring them here," you say, tears welling up in your eyes again as you swallow away the lump forming in your throat.
"Alright, I'll check them out, and you can wait in here for now. I'll be back within 20 minutes or so," the kind man says. You nod before turning around and sitting down, ready to update Tony. When you unlock your phone, you get his incoming call and pick up on the first ring.
"Hi, Sugar," Tony says as he sees your face, this time with fewer tears. Warmth spreads through his chest as you smile at him and greet him back. For a moment, everything is right with the world again.
"How's the kitten doing?"
"We found out it's a he. The vet took him for some exams, and he should be back in about 20 minutes, so... All I can do now is wait," you say with a shrug and an unconvincing smile. At this moment, Tony decides to stop everything he's doing, as he needs to be with you tonight. You may not ask for it outright, but he can tell you shouldn't be alone, at least not on the first night.
"Do you have a name for him?" he asks, and you nod.
"I'm thinking of calling him Moon. He's a beautiful pitch-black cat with the most stunning blue eyes, and the name really seems to fit him well," you say, a smile now tugging at the corners of your lips as you think about the little kitten.
"I can't wait to meet little Moon," Tony replies as he allows himself to sink back into his office chair. There's a comfortable silence between you two for a short moment, and neither of you feels the need to fill it. Eventually, you two make some small talk until the vet returns, and you have to say your goodbyes.
"How is he?" you ask as you quickly get up from your seat, your heart going a mile a minute right now. You reach out to the kitten, petting his head gently with the tip of your finger, and he feels so soft.
"He's surprisingly doing well. I think you found him not long after he was left, so apart from his hunger, there's nothing wrong with him. Over the next few weeks, you will need to bottle-feed him until he can start eating regular food, and I would like to see him once a week for the next three or four weeks to keep an eye on him," the vet says, and you nod in understanding.
"For now, I'll give you enough supplies to last you a day or two, but you need to get more soon," he says. With that, he shows you how to feed little Moon, and you're on your way home quickly. With Moon sitting comfortably in a carrying case in one hand and the supplies in your other hand, you go out the door and back to your car.
"It's time to go home, Little Moon. Are you excited?" you ask him, and he lets out a squeaky noise that resembles somewhat of a meow, making your heart race as you hear it. As you take off, you can't stop thinking that you have officially adopted a kitten and won't be as lonely anymore in your apartment.
"Welcome home, Moon!" you tell the little kitten as your front door swings open. The first thing you do after closing it again is put the carrier and supplies down on your dining room table so you can put on something a bit warmer. It's a good thing he's asleep in there right now, so you quickly grab one of Tony's old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, changing with lightning speed.
Your hair is put up in a messy bun, and you decide to trade your contacts for your glasses, which makes you feel even more comfortable, especially since you have quite a long night ahead of you.
The moment you're back in your dining room, you look inside the carrier, and he's awake again, which is perfect timing for feeding him. His bottle is prepared within no time, and you wrap him up in the softest blanket you could find, which has pink and yellow flowers on it.
Moon latches on to the bottle without a problem, his eyes curiously looking around as you feed him. Just before you have the chance to sit down, you hear a few knocks on your door, and you make your way over to see who's on the other side. As soon as you peek through the little peephole, you see it's Tony, so you take a step back to call out that it's open.
"Tony, what are you doing here?" you ask, surprised as he's holding a duffle bag in one hand and some food in the other. He made the educated guess you still needed to eat dinner, and he was right.
"I figured my Sugar could use some extra help now that you have a baby to take care of," he winks, and your cheeks warm at his words. He leans forward to place a soft peck on your lips, and you happily accept it as you smile into the kiss.
"Thank you for coming over; I cannot even begin to explain how much I appreciate it," you sigh, and he nods.
"So, this is Moon, huh?" Tony asks after putting down the bags he is holding, and you nod.
"It is. I have enough supplies to take care of him for a day or two, so I have to go out and buy more tomorrow. Luckily, the vet gave me a list of everything I could possibly need to make sure he's happy and healthy," you tell Tony, who's now carefully petting Moon between his ears.
"He's beautiful," Tony whispers, and you agree.
"How about this: You sit on the couch and continue feeding and loving the little guy, and I get you a plate of food? I have a hunch you haven't had dinner yet, and I could use some food as well," he says, to which you happily agree.
"That would be amazing right about now. Thank you, Tony," you say, sitting on the couch with your legs crossed, looking down at Moon with a broad smile.
Tony can't stop smiling as he prepares a plate for you both. As he takes in the way you look in a pair of sweatpants and his shirt, combined with your glasses and your hair up like this, he can't help but fall in love with you just a little more, and he knows he can't hide it much longer. But for now, he will have to keep to himself, as there are other priorities to take care of.
"Who's ready for some food?" Tony asks as he walks into the living room with two plates of food, and the smell immediately invades your senses. He got Chinese take-out, and it smells divine.
"I'll just go put him down for a bit in his carrier; he just fell asleep again after finishing his bottle, so I'll be right back," you tell Tony. Before you know it, he's in the carrying case you brought him home in, but you decide to take off the top so you can keep an eye on him.
"Alright, I believe it's time for dinner!" you say excitedly as you walk back into the living room. As you stand before the couch, Tony extends his hand, and you take it, only to be pulled onto his lap with a soft shriek.
"Now I can finally say a proper hello to you," he whispers before leaning in to kiss you, his hands lying on your hips while your hands are gliding through the hair on the nape of his neck, your nails softly scratching over his scalp.
Your lips glide against his effortlessly, your bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Your hearts match each other's rhythm as they speed up, and the moment is perfect. You're held by the man you love, and even though neither of you wants to admit it, you're both entirely sure about it.
You're both head over heels in love with one another.
During dinner, you and Tony watched a cheesy romantic comedy that happened to be on; even though neither of you paid too much attention to it—you were too busy teasing one another to even care about the movie—there were still a lot of laughs shared between you two over it.
"I can't believe people enjoy these movies, and even more so that people think a happily ever after like that exists," you sigh, thinking back to your awful past and why you moved to the other side of the country.
"I don't know, I quite like the idea of having a happily ever after with someone. To love someone so deeply that you would go to the end of the earth for them without a second thought. I guess I like the idea of having someone to grow old with and someone to come home to after a long day of work," he says, though his eyes are trained on the coffee table instead of looking at you.
"I mean, when you put it like that, I think I might want it as well, as long as it's with the right person," you say softly. You look at him from the corner of your eye, trying to see his reaction. His cheeks are turning a familiar pink tint, making you smile at his cuteness.
Without saying a word, Tony grabs your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing softly as his gaze is now focused on the TV again. You cuddle into his side more, your head leaning on his shoulder as you sigh softly.
Just as Tony has finally gathered the courage to tell you what's on his mind, your next alarm goes off, letting you know it's time to give Moon some medicine. It has to be given a few hours before he's fed again, so it's a good thing he's nearby. You can easily take care of him this way.
Reluctantly, you untangle your lips from Tony's and give him an apologetic smile as you get up. He also smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes this time, and he's left with an empty feeling in his chest.
Moon is taking the medicine like an absolute champ, and before you know it, you're back on the couch with Tony, who has now wrapped his arm around you to pull you against his side, and your hand is tracing figures on his thigh as you're both watching another movie.
A shiver runs down your spine, and Tony pulls you closer to him, but to no avail.
"Tony? Can I maybe borrow your sweatshirt? I'm starting to get a little chilly over here," you ask, but he has a better plan.
"I brought you something even better," Tony says as he grabs a hoodie from his duffle bag. He wore it yesterday while working in his lab, so even though it's gotten a bit dirty, it smells like him, which you can never get enough of.
"Oh my god, thank you!" you say as you immediately slip it on. You pull Tony in for a hug, which he happily reciprocates. It feels good to be held by one another, and you two stay like that for a few minutes as you bury your nose in his neck.
"Thank you for being here, Tony. You didn't have to be, but I'm grateful you did," you tell him after you pull away. Your eyes look at his deep brown ones, and you can see a shimmer of happiness in them as he smiles.
"I know I didn't have to be, but I couldn't leave my girl alone after what happened," he tells you, and a deep red blush covers your cheeks. The thought of you being his girl makes you feel excited, but before you can say something stupid, you pull him into a kiss.
It started slowly at first, but when you moaned softly as he pulled you against him, Tony immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth. As you two explored each other's mouths for a while, you could feel yourself clenching around nothing, and he was also definitely getting aroused as well.
Just as Tony's hands wandered down your body and to the hem of the hoodie you were wearing, another alarm went off, but this time, it caught you both off-guard as you jumped apart.
"It's time for another feeding. Do you want to do the honors this time?" you ask, and he agrees after you give him a few more pecks.
"Alright," you say, and you get his bottle ready while Tony gets Moon ready, and he's all wrapped up in his little blanket. While Tony is feeding him, you take your time to snap some photos of Tony taking care of the black kitten, as it melts your heart, and you want to remember this moment for many years to come.
"Do you mind if I go take a shower? Now that you're here, I might as well make the most of the situation, especially after the rain earlier," you ask Tony after you've snapped enough photos to fill a few books.
"Course not, Sugar. You go take care of yourself, and I'll take care of him, okay?" Tony says softly, and you smile before turning around and heading towards your bathroom. As soon as you're in there, you grab a tight hold of the sink and suppress the scream that wants to leave your body.
Tony showing up for you like that and being so loving and sweet has the butterflies in your stomach in complete disarray, and you can't believe you have gotten so lucky as to have met someone like him. You thought you would never find love again after moving away, but he has shown you it's possible, and you're more than grateful for it.
The shower is quick but very refreshing as you finally get to wash away every last worry that has crept its way into your mind and body, making you refreshed and a little tired at the same time. The amount of relaxation you feel now is something you haven't felt in a long time, and you breathe a sigh of relief as a smile tugs on the corners of your lips.
Once you're done, you slip into a comfortable pair of underwear, sweatpants, and Tony's hoodie, which you bring up to your nose as you take a whiff of his scent. It envelops you completely, and it feels like coming home after a long day.
As you walk back to the living room, you hear Tony talking to Moon, and you can't help but wait on the other side of the door, partially because you're curious about what he's saying and partially because you don't want to interrupt their conversation.
"You're very lucky to have an amazing Mommy like Sugar, you know that? She'll take amazing care of you and love you so much. And maybe one day I will be your Daddy as well, making us a big, happy family," Tony says with a soft sigh, the idea of you two being together forming more and more in his head.
"I'm already so in love with you, you know that? And with Sugar, too, but I don't want to admit it just yet—I don't even know if she likes me like that as well," he tells Moon, his voice trailing off near the end. If only he knew you had fallen head over heels for him as well.
After a few more moments, you swing open the door, and you see Tony cuddling with Moon in the blanket and his bottle empty on the table.
"How did he do?" you ask as you sit beside Tony. You both look at a sleepy Moon as he's curled up in the blanket's warmth combined with the heat of Tony's body.
"He ate like a champ, just finished his bottle, so I figured I'd cuddle with him for a bit so you could see him too. He's so cute when he's sleepy," Tony says as he looks at you with a fond expression.
"You're cute when you're sleepy, too," Tony says as a yawn escapes, and you can no longer hide your tiredness. It's already been a long day, and now that you have little Moon to take care of, staying awake is only getting more challenging, as it's all taking up so much of your energy.
"Do you want me to stay tonight, Sugar? I can help take care of Moon, so you won't have to get up every time," Tony offers.
"Oh no, that's okay, I don't mind," you quickly respond, but he shakes his head.
"I think it's best if I stay; you need your rest tonight as well,'' he tries again, and this time, you agree. Once Moon is done feeding, you carefully put him in his bed again before taking him to your bedroom so you can keep an eye on him if needed.
After you and Tony have gotten ready to sleep, he sits on his side of the bed, his legs spread and arm held out. Both of you are fully clothed, but that won't be for long if it's up to Tony.
"Let's get you out of these clothes, hmm?" he asks with a raised brow, and you agree. With a few swift motions, you're left in nothing but your bra and panties, and Tony can't help but place a few soft kisses on the exposed skin of your belly.
"So beautiful," he whispers as his hands glide over your thighs and the flesh of your butt, where he squeezes as well. A giggle escapes your lips as he does, and it doesn't take long for him to be left in nothing but his boxer briefs as well.
As you crawl into bed, you're quickly followed by Tony, who, instead of lying next to you, crawls over your body to cage you in with his large frame. His broad shoulders and thick thighs cover quite a large portion of your body, and you can't help but bite your lip at the thought.
"What's going on in that brain of yours, Sugar?" Tony asks as he noses along your jaw and neck before placing soft kisses over the column of your throat that have you moaning ever so softly.
"You."
"And what are you thinking about exactly?" he asks, and a deep red blush spreads over your cheeks again.
"How good it feels when you slide that thick, delicious monster of a cock inside my tight, warm pussy," you whisper, and his eyes go wide at your words. With those words, Tony doesn't take long to do just that.
Your legs are spread perfectly for him as he gets comfortable between them, his bare cock resting on your thigh as he takes his time with your nipples first. Tugging and suckling on them to pull soft moans from you is one of his favorite activities, and he can spend hours doing just that.
When he's had his fill, and he's happy with how red and perky they are, he lets his hand glide to his cock, which he pumps up and down a few times before lining up with your entrance and pushing in every so slowly.
Your breaths mingle with every soft and careful thrust, your moans becoming one as he bottoms out, and your bodies working in a perfect rhythm together as you both roll your hips together. Your hands are linked above your head while Tony kisses you softly, and this moment feels nothing short of perfect.
Making love to the man you love is the best feeling in the world, and falling over the edge at the same time while your foreheads are connected has never felt more intimate. The way your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him for everything he's worth, has never felt this good, and neither of you ever wants to stop.
Neither of you wants this moment to end while you're wrapped in your little bubble. There is not a single care in the world, just you, him, and your love. Once Tony's finished inside you, he pulls out to clean both of you up, grabs some fruit from your fridge, and comes back to bed to be close to you again.
"Here, eat this so you can regain some of your strength again," he whispers, followed by a kiss on your forehead. You happily munch on the sweet fruits as you're cuddled against his side.
"I still can't believe you adopted a little kitten today," he suddenly says with a chuckle, making you laugh, too. This was not part of your plan at the start of your day, but at the same time, you wouldn't want it any other way.
"Neither can I, but despite finding him in a little box, it has been a good day. Meeting Moon has been the highlight of my day, and all we can do now is hope for more good days," you say, to which Tony agrees.
"As long as all three of us have each other, I think every day is great, Sugar. And maybe, some of them may even turn into perfect days if we're really lucky," Tony tells you, and you nod in agreement.
After that, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, and the first time your alarm goes off to give Moon his medicine, Tony gets up so you can get some more sleep.
"It's okay, Sugar. I got him," he whispers as he kisses your forehead.
"Thank you, Tony, for everything," you tell him, and he smiles at you in response. After another soft kiss, he gets up to help Moon, who is still asleep in the blanket he was wrapped up in. The medicine is administered quickly, and Tony's back in bed with you before you know it.
Your head is on his chest, your hand covers his arc reactor, and your leg is draped over his. This is something you can get used to and something you will look forward to in the future as well.
#avengersbingo#fandomfreebingo#fandomfreebingo: wild#tony stark#tony stark one shot#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark fanfic#tony stark imagine#tony stark x female reader#tony stark x reader#tony stark x y/n#tony stark x yn#tony stark fluff#tony stark smut#iron man#iron man one shot#iron man fanfiction#iron man fanfic#iron man imagine#iron man x female reader#iroan man x reader#iron man x y/n#iron man x yn#iron man fluff#iron man smut
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
"It started with yelling", Caretaker recalled as they spoke to the doctor privately while a nurse helped Whumpee into a sling.
"Whumpee had been asleep for a few hours already. I myself was getting ready to get into bed when I heard frantic movements coming from their room", Caretaker sighed, "I was on my way to check on them when I heard their yelling for help, I heard them fall. By then, I rushed to open the door. I saw them crash into the door frame and fall to the ground."
The doctor sighed, "they've definitely broken their collarbone. It could have been from falling or running into the doorframe. We're not sure, and they won't tell us. They seem to be shaken up still. They've also sprained their wrist. I can assume that happened when they fell."
Caretaker nodded, "I'll talk to them as I have to document all of this and file it to my board supervisors. I'll let you know what I find out."
Caretaker waited a few more minutes while the nurse finished helping Whumpee.
"Hey Whumpee, you gave us all a little scare", Caretaker came in and sat, "they're working on your discharge summary right now, so we have some time to talk."
"I-I'm sorry, I... I", Whumpee started to sob.
"Hey, shh. It's okay, Whumpee, you didn't do anything bad", Caretaker quickly got up to hug Whumpee, "you sounded very scared when I heard you, what happened?", Caretaker rested his hand on Whumpee's good shoulder.
"I had a nightmare, but when I woke up, I thought I saw them in my room still. Th-there was a shadow", Whumpee looked down, "I tried to get out of bed. Um, my foot was caught under the blankets, so I fell to the floor. I think that's when I hurt my wrist, and I called for help", Whumpee sniffled some snot up their nose and wiped some tears with their pajama sleeves, "I was rushing to the door when I saw it open, I tried to stop or move out of the way, but I hit the door and fell back, that's when my shoulder started to hurt."
"My my, I'm sorry you had quite the nightmare", Caretaker sighed.
Caretaker pulled the chair a little closer, and sat back down.
"I was getting into bed when I heard you moving around. I went to check on you, and when I heard you fall I sprinted to the door", Caretaker pulled out his phone, "and of course I saw you hit the door frame", Caretaker sighed, "so what will happen now is I'm going to document all of this here on my phone. A copy goes to your doctor, a copy goes to my supervisors, and a copy gets save to your care file, and as you know, you can access that at any time."
Whumpee nodded, "I'm sorry again, I know you haven't had any sleep yet. Now you have this to worry about."
Caretaker sighed and looked at Whumpee, "you have nothing to apologize for. Your care comes first, as for your injuries, I'm sorry to you that that happened. Don't worry about my sleep schedule", Caretaker gave a comforting smile, "I am perfectly fine."
Whumpee nodded and used their pajamas to wipe another tear.
Caretaker reached for a nearby tissue box and offered it to Whumpee.
Once home Caretaker got Whumpee into bed.
"Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere", Caretaker looked them over, "try to keep your arms elevated. The ice packs and elevation will help with swelling for your wrist and collarbone."
Whumpee nodded, "besides that, I feel okay."
"I'm going to let your nurse know what happened so they come in prepared", Caretaker pulled up a blanket, "I'm going to send in the report and discharge notes to my supervisors, then I'm going to lay down for a nap until your nurse is here."
Whumpee whimpered a little.
"Are you okay?", Caretaker looked at them with concern, "I forgot about my nurse, do you think they'll be upset with me. I'm going to be an inconvenience to both of you."
"You're not an inconvenience Whumpee", Caretaker sighed, "never think you are an inconvenience to us. We are here to take care of you. We are happy to do that for you."
"I'll go out to the pharmacy later to pick up your pain medication the doctor gave you. Are you in any pain right now?", Caretaker looked over Whumpee again.
"No sir", Whumpee sighed.
"Okay, call me if you need anything at all", Caretaker started to leave, they looked around the room, "I bet that was the shadow you saw", they pointed at a pile of clothes Whumpee had neglected, "I'll clean that up later, and see about a night light in here."
Whumpee sighed as they looked at the pile of clothing. Knowing that was their fault, and they neglected to do their one chore of the day.
"I'm sorry", Whumpee looked back at Caretaker.
"I'm not upset about it Whumpee, but I will say this as a reminder. You have a few chores to take care of. I do that so you regain some independence, I hope we learned a lesson from this", Caretaker sighed.
Whumpee nodded.
"Alright go ahead and get some rest", Caretaker smiled, "and Whumpee?"
"Y-yes sir", Whumpee looked toward Caretaker.
"I'm not mad at you. Please remember that", Caretaker promised, "you are not an inconvenience at all."
Whumpee nodded, "thankyou Caretaker, that means a lot."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @thebejeweledwatercat @painfulplots
#whump community#whump stuff#whump writing#whump ideas#whump#whumpee#whump scenario#whumper#caretaking#oc#caretaker and whumpee#caretaker#whumpee forgot to do their chores#whumplr#whumblr
100 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just One More🌟
Line: Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this 😱 will be in bold
A/N: YAY! Yet another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🐞 ... I heard the song from 'Little big town' and it was just too perfect, I had this idea, and well it ran away with me . 💕 I sure do hope y'all enjoy this ...💕
Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language🫣, angst,😱 heartbreak,🥺smut.🥵
Characters: Beau Arlen x Female Reader.
Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.
Words:2464 😅
The smell of freshly brewed coffee, fills the air, the brownish - gold liquid getting poured into the white cup, stirring in a few drops of milk, as the mug touches your lips, the liquid warms the inside of your mouth, the bold, bitter taste awakening all your senses, almost swirling around the liquid before swallowing, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to hold out reality a little longer, rubbing your fingers over the printed logo, 'M...R...S' a smirk, on your lips, regretting that you took the mug of the set of two 'Mr. & Mrs.' mugs, gold lettering, like the wedding bands, you were so excited the day you picked it up from the little décor shop, on your honeymoon, looking back now, it seems like a lifetime ago. The footsteps, coming from the guest bedroom, let's your eyes flung open, revealing the half-open boxes stacked everywhere.
The deep Texan, in his voice, almost echoing through the half packed up house, "Morning" he clears his throat "Uhmm, how do we..." Before he could finish his sentence, you look at him, your eyes throwing darts at his green-hazel eyes. "Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this"
A little sarcastic giggle escapes his lips, "oh yeah! Well we'll have to deal with this sometime"
You get up out the chair, standing straight up, but your husband, well soon to be ex-husband still towering over you, revealing how much smaller you are than him. "I said, I don't want to deal with this right now, can't I just have one last quiet morning in our... Uhmm in this house"
Irritation evident in his voice "listen, I just want this to be over so that we can go on with our lives"
"Well so sorry, I'm taking so much time, to just pack everything up and throw away the life we built" you hissed
"Excuse me! We both made the decision to get a divorce"
You voice barely audible "yeah I know" swallowing the emotion in your voice "I just got back from my shift at the hospital and I just need to freshen up first, then I will help sorting through the stuff okay"
His voice soft, "how was your shift?"
As you put the coffee mug in the kitchen sink you whisper "it was okay, we lost a patient today, bad car accident"
His eyes saddened as he knows how much it affects you "I'm so sorry darl..." He stops himself before finishing his sentence.
You just walk away, towards your once shared bedroom, knowing he most probably wanted to say darling, the little pet name he always used for you.
As you get into the shower, letting the hot water run over you, you let go of the hold on the floodgates behind your eyes, sobbing frantically now, holding your hand over your mouth, so that you can dampen the noises, your body shaking, as your mind drift, to the events of the past few weeks, you and Beau both agreed to get a divorce, the two of you got so busy with every day life, that the two of you started to drift further and further away, its so ironic the same jobs that brought the two off you together, is also tearing you apart.
The two of you met, while he came in, with a knife wound to his arm, and as you treated him, well it was love at first sight so too say. As you fall down, cradling your knees as the water runs over you, recalling the years you've been together, you always thought getting a divorce at your age won't happen, but well your here now. The thing that breaks you, is no-one cheated, the two of you just fought all the damn time, and him being Sheriff and you being a ER doctor, working mostly night shifts, you were living past each other, when you got home, he's leaving for work, and when he gets back home, your leaving for your shift.
You can't even recall the last time you two kissed, never less touched. You were so in love, so passionate and now all that has gone too hell. Getting up, and stepping out of the shower, opting out for a pair of your favorite worn out jeans, with a old t-shirt, not realizing it's one of his shirts, but hey, it's already on you, so what the heck. Throwing your hair into a messy bun, you don't real seem to care how homeless you look as your heart already feel homeless.
Glancing through your bedroom, everywhere boxes labeled his and hers, as you two are going to put your house up for rent and then split the profits between the two off you. As you take the bottle of perfume, spritzing it in the nape of your neck and some on your wrist, a small smile forms on your lips as you remember, Beau gave it to you for your birthday last year, he always did take such notice in the smallest of details. But that memory crumbles quickly as you see the stack of divorce documents, on your dresser, both of you agreed to sign it when you where done sorting everything in the house.
You rush down the stairs, furious and determined to get this over and done with, unsure of how much your heart can handle. Peeking through the living room, you don't see him anywhere, then you catch a glimpse of his brownish hair getting tossed in the wind as he sits on the porch with a cup of coffee, you always did like the way the moonlight danced in his eyes, the way the little garden lights revealed his freckles, oh damn you love his small freckles, that stained his cheeks and his nose, and not too even talk about his perfectly kissable lips. What the hell is wrong with you, your about to divorce that man. You just turn around and walk towards the living room, starting to sort through some stuff.
Getting up out of the wooden chair, holding the mug in his hand, his rough calloused fingers running over the lettering 'M...R' , his eyes squinting as he recalls the day you got that, on your honeymoon.. well that and books, both off you liked too read, but well there weren't much reading done those two weeks, he was too busy exploring every single part of your body. As he peeks into the house, seeing the way your kneeling, looking through what seems to be picture albums, he can't help but to admire the way your body fills out his shirt, the way you've got your hair up with loose strings off hair, framing your beautiful face and neck, a smile tugging at his lips, as he recalls how ticklish you were as he placed loving kisses, sending shivers down your spine. The sound of you giggling always made him feel alive, you made him feel alive, made him feel whole and now, well now his left with a hole in his heart.
Dammit what's the matter with him, his about to divorce that woman, how can he feel this way, is it just the memories, of your shared home, your shared love, why did all of these feelings have to rush back, how is he suppose to just simply act like he wants this, because he sure as hell does not want too loose you, but he loves you too damn much to not give you what you want, a chance too be happy again. So he'll go through with the divorce, knowing both of you said that's what needed to be done, so he just wants this over and done with, he can't stand being in your presence and not kiss you, not hold you, not tell you how much he loves you.
Spending the rest of the hours in an awkward silence, as the two of you sort through the memories that was build. But it's you who breaks the silence, kicking a empty box on the ground "it's 2 in the morning, I'm going to bed"
He's not really sure why he was so irritated by your comment but he started snapping at you "what? we should finish this, now"
Your jaw drops, you roll your eyes "excuse me! I'm tired" you bite your lower lip, but then decide to say it anyway "I'm tired of pretending that it's fine being in the same room as you"
A smirk on his plum lips "oh, its that bad being around me?"
Crossing your arms in front of you "you said it, I didn't"
Shaking his head "Woman you are driving me crazy"
"Oh yeah! Well you are driving me insane" you snap back
He strides closer towards you, his deep husky voice "is that the best you can come up with"
Throwing your arms up in the air "why do you want to make me angry" her voice brittle "is this what you want, me breaking down in front off you"
For a few seconds there was a softness in his eyes, but then his jaw hardens again "you have no idea what I want woman"
Enraged now "just leave it, all of this take what you want and give the rest away, I don't give a damn anymore, I'm done, with this, with you, with us, with everything"
He can't help but to examine the way your lips move, when you scream at him, he always did find you very sexy, as you were furious, going on about something, the way your whole body moves as your anger took over you, the way your hips swayed, when you'd explain what he did wrong, but by then you've lost him, he was too busy inspecting every little nose crinkle, every movement you made. Without any warning he cups your face, his lips crashes against yours. When he finally pulls away, both off you trying to catch your breath. For a few seconds you just stood there, your voice breathy "we... we can't do this" you turn around, but he grabs ahold of you, holding you in his arms, your back against his chest, his hot breath by your ear as he whispers "darling, tell me you don't want me, and I'll let you go" it send shivers down your spine.
Merely a whisper that escapes your lips, "kiss me Beau, as if you never stopped loving me" as his fingers trail down your neck, raking the loose hair away, through the kisses he places down your neck, to your collarbone, his fingers sliding the t-shirt over your shoulder, his lips, trailing against your skin, a low roar escapes his lips "I never did stop loving you darling"
Those words coming from him, makes you turn around, looking up towards his eyes, searching those hazel-green orbs, for any indication, how he truly feels. Placing your hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his beard underneath your touch, you know you're probably going to regret this in the morning, but your fingers trace down to his lips, as if you want to take in this work of art. Standing on your tippy toes, leaning in so that you can taste his lips, just one more time.
He claims your lips, as if he was starving, your tongues doing a passionate dance, his right hand holding the back of your neck, and his left hand holds on to your lower back, as he pulls you in even closer, not breaking the kiss once, your hands raking through his hair, as you want him closer, closer than ever before. He pushes you against the wall, tugging at the hem of your shirt, helping him to remove the clothing, through the kisses, and heartbeats racing, his hand roams your body, picking you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, but as he makes his way towards the couch, not breaking the kiss, he knocks over a stack of boxes, making him stumble and come to a fall, you lay on top off him, both of you laughing so hard it echoes through the house, its the first time in a long time that this house have heard so much laughter, he pulls you in for yet another kiss, and as you two lay there on the floor in front of the fire place, exploring each other as if its for the first time, not saying much, just sweet little moans, and whimpers escapes your lips, as your bodies does the talking for you. Not really sure, when but sometime during the early morning hours, both of you have fallen asleep, entangled, skin on skin, wrapped in each other's love.
You've woken up, by his calloused fingers running up and down your back, your head on his chest, slightly lifting your eyes too study his face, his glancing up towards the ceiling, a smile on his lips, his eyes almost sparkling, as he realizes your awake, he looks down at you, placing a kiss on your forehead, "Morning Darling" you smile as you sweet voice greets him "Morning babe"
He starts laughing a little "so last night happened" you mockingly hit his chest, "Not funny, were supposed to get a divorce"
He looks at you, eyes filled with love "about that! I don't want to divorce you, I want to be your husband, forever like we vowed"
Stunned "what! I thought you wanted this"
"No, somewhere during yesterday I realized, I still love, you. No! that's a lie, I never did stop loving you"
A smile forming your lips "Neither did I, I was so frustrated, I wanted you, this , us our house, but I was too afraid to say it."
Sitting upright now, taking you hands in his "Darling, that's what I want, I want us too, we can work it out, we can get through this can't we?"
Pulling the throw, a little tighter over your body, as the crisp morning air, makes you shiver a bit. "Babe I think we can, we should just make time for each other."
Nodding his head, making his longer brownish hair fall in front of his eyes, a smile forming on his plum lips, revealing the age lines around his eyes, "Yes my sweet darling, I agree, but what do you say we tear up those divorce papers, and give the two of us just one more try"
A laugh escapes your lips "Yes, a million times yes. I love you"
Leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, this time, gentle little kisses as, he whispers through the kisses I.... Love... You... Too... Darling"
You can't help but too smile through the kisses knowing your heart aren't homeless no more, your home in your husbands arms. As the two of you come up for some air, you glance at the boxes stacked everywhere, half of the house is packed up, you smile at your husband, "babe, we just have to do one more thing!"
Confused he looks at your beautiful face, "Yes my darling, and will that be."
Laughing now, "we are going too spend over off weekend unpacking and moving back into our home"
A mischievous grin on his face "Please be quiet, I haven't had enough coffee yet, to deal with this"
The two of you burst into laughter, taking in each other, knowing there's a lot of work to do, not just the unpacking but the rebuilding of your lives together. But with your husbands hand interlacing yours, you know that it's possible, anything is possible, with the person you love the most, by your side, ready to fight for your marriage and content in knowing you love each other, you sat there with your head resting on his chest, as you watch the fire place , the way the flames dances in a fiery passion after it's ignited, brings you nope, knowing, just one more try is all you need.
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cold
Warnings ! ~ Angst (a lot tee bee hach) | Possible grammatical errors |But there is comfort at the end and more to come
Steve x Eddie x Reader
y/n used briefly
Request Something ! {} Masterlist !
You couldn't have been happier in your relationship with Eddie and Steve.
They were so sweet and caring, always knowing when you were having a bad day, not to mention the sex was amazing.
But as of late you couldn't help but have a slight change of heart. Because the boys, your boys, have been hanging out a little bit too much with Chrissy Cunningham.
It was infuriating really.
Every 'Stevie can we go out today?' was met with a 'Gotta take a raincheck hun, Chrissy wants to go see a movie'
Or
'Eddie? Do you think you could come home? You haven't been home all day' was met with 'Sorry sweetheart, Chrissy isn't doing too well.'
This has been going on the last three months, you had no idea why you were still around at this point. And no, you haven't been fucked in three months.
And yes, you did have suspicions of your boys fucking Chrissy but you soon found out that Eddie and Steve were too busy fucking each other.
You had spoken to Robin and Nancy about it, about moving out of your shared apartment slowly.
And slowly you moved into their apartment, and you noticed that as you moved out, it seemed like Chrissy was moving in.
Most nights you cried in the cold sheets of your large bed. A bed meant for three people.
You blew a piece of hair out of your face as you dumped the final moving box into Nancy's car. Trying to supress the tears that had built up over the past hour.
The past hour of you packing things into a box without Eddie and Steve noticing because they were too busy watching a movie with Chrissy.
Your body shook with a sob as Robin rubbed your back soothingly, helping you into the car.
You were thankful that Robin and Nancy had a two bedroom apartment, so that you did have a bed to sleep in, rather than a couch.
And as you lay in that bed, you couldn't help but curl in yourself, crying because you knew that the boys wouldn't notice you're gone for at least a couple days.
Chrissy fucking Cunningham, with her bouncy blonde hair, strands falling effortlessly but in a perfect way. She always had a smile on her face, her cute personality making you want to vomit.
You woke up the next morning, going into the bathroom, feeling bad as Nancy and Robin glanced at you pitifully, clearly having heard you crying last night. And you tried your best to rub away the dark and puffy circles under your eyes, but to no avail.
'Swear, that dingus isn't my dingus anymore' Robin said, shoveling cereal into her mouth.
'I cannot believe them, they're head over heels with you and then they don't notice your moving out? AND they haven't even called?' Nancy added, stirring her coffee a bit more aggressively than usual.
You prodded at your cereal, agreeing with them before Nancy continued.
'I think I'm just gonna go back to bed, thanks for breakfast Nance' you smiled softly before retreating back into the dark room, being once again enveloped in a numbing cold.
Robin was at the local grocery, picking up a few things, groceries of course but also some snacks and treats for you to hopefully make you feel better.
Robin mumbled to herself, trying to read Nancy's cursive, she turned a corner, shopping trolley making an awful squeak.
She looked around for something that looked like 'tovato suuce' and saw three people she really didn't want to see right now, knowing her temper would get the best of her.
The fucking trolley wouldn't move, Robin always had to get the trolley with the broken wheel.
'Robin!' shit.
Robin pretended she didn't hear Steve's voice, trying to find what she had figured out to be tomato sauce.
'Rob' Steve said, clearly closer.
Brave face.
Robin turned around to see Steve, Chrissy and Eddie, as said, three people she really didn't want to see. Especially when Chrissy was wrapped around Eddie's arm giggling at something he said.
'Jesus, looks like you're going through a breakup' Steve chuckled looking at Robins trolley, currently filled with chocolate, chips, and ice cream.
'Oh my God' Robin gawked. Steve seriously was dumb.
'What?' Steve asked
'You know what, nothing. Just know, you and Eddie are real fucking assholes' Robin said, finally pushing the trolley away, ignoring the protests of Steve and Eddie.
Nancy knew the look on Robin's face. She'd seen it during their arguments, she winced slightly when Robin shut the door a bit too hard.
'Are you okay?' Nancy asked delicately.
'Saw the fucking assholes at the grocery store, and Chrissy was with them! Clinging onto Eddie like she was his girlfriend' Robin seethed.
Nancy had never seen Robin so mad, her face red, breathing heavy.
'Alright, it's okay, they'll realise their mistake soon. Trust me' Nancy comforted, Robin nodded her head slightly, feeling horrible for you.
It was three days until they got a call from Steve.
Robin had picked it up at first, before promptly slamming it back into the receiver. To which Nancy ushered her out the kitchen, knowing Steve would call back.
'Nancy! We can't find Y/n! She's missing! Oh my God! Eddie's freaking out, I'm freaking out, have you seen her?' Steve shouts into the phone.
'She's with us. She's fine' Nancy responded simply.
'Oh thank God! We'll be there soon'
'No Steve, you won't. You aren't coming near her' Nancy said, the rage she felt starting to bubble, only calming slightly when Robin rubbed her neck.
'What? Why? We have to bring her home!'
'Fuck me Steve, if you really paid any fucking attention you would realise that your apartment isn't her home anymore. She's been living here nearly a week and only now you're realising. God she was moving her stuff out of your apartment for weeks! Weeks Steve! And neither of you two noticed' Nancy grumbled.
'Nance I-'
'Goodbye Steve' and the line cut, Robin putting it back into the receiver, rubbing Nancy's shoulders.
You hadn't left the room. Only eating every once in a while. Your sobs being heard from the living room and kitchen.
It was a day later the boys showed up at the apartment.
Frantic knocking could be heard on the door, Robin answered it, thinking it was one of the kids, before promptly slamming it shut. It was only recently that Nancy realised how much Robin loved to slam things.
Nancy ushered Robin once again out of the way, opening the door, faced with a red eyed Steve and Eddie.
'Can I help you?' Nancy asked
'We need to see her' Steve said, it was pathetic the way his voice cracked mid sentence. Nancy full well believed that Steve had no right to be as upset as he seemed.
'Sorry, she's not here right now' Robin intercepted.
'Come on Robs, we can hear her crying' Eddie said.
The girls rolled their eyes, and Nancy pointed at the boys.
'You say anything wrong, do anything wrong, even look at her wrong, you two are out of the here' she warned, and the two nodded, before rushing into the apartment and into your bedroom.
Your body jolted when the bedroom door burst open.
'Oh sweetheart' Eddie said softly.
All the sadness quickly escaped your body, being replaced with white hot anger.
'Don't you dare sweetheart me'
'Come on honey, we're sorry for whatever we did' Steve mumbled, moving closer to you, to which you shuffled against the headboard of the bed.
'For whatever you did? So you two don't even know what you did?' you asked. Unbelievable.
'Just tell us what we did wrong so we can fix it' Eddie offered.
'Oh my fucking God you two are such assholes! For the past three months it's been Chrissy this Chrissy that. You two haven't touched me sexually in three months, too all over each other probably thinking about Chrissy' you scoffed.
'Hey, that's not fair-'
'Oh it's not fair Steve? You know what's not fair? Being sick and having neither of your boyfriends notice because their new friend was having boy troubles. You know what's not fair? finding her stupid scrunchies everywhere. A constant reminder of the fact that she's always around'
You could see the look on Eddie's face, he was getting more frustrated by the second. Unbeknownst to you, he was mad at himself and Steve. He felt like a total fuckwit, he was infuriated with himself and Steve. mentally punching himself.
'Yeah? Well maybe if you actually put a smile on once in a while, we wouldn't be with Chrissy so much. You would wake up, go to work, come home, me and Eddie would try and cheer you up but oh no, you just had to be in a shit mood all the time' Steve seethed.
'Fuck you Steve'
'She's probably a better fuck than you anyway'
'Alright that's fucking enough. Get out' Nancy said, walking in.
You stared at the disbelief on Steve's face, and the hurt on Eddie's.
'This is between us and her-' Steve tried to interject
'No, out. Get the fuck out' Robin said.
Steve scoffed and walked out of the room. Eddie following close behind, but Robin and Nancy saw the hesitance, but also the look of pure anger.
'Who does she think she-' Steve was cut off by a left hook to the cheek.
'What the fuck is your problem?' Eddie growled.
'You know how shitty I feel? I feel horrible for making her feel like that. She's the love of my life, and you are too Steve. But you aren't going to be if you keep up this shitty attitude' Eddie continued, staring down at Steve on the floor.
'God we are such cunts' Eddie huffed. Dragging a hand down his face.
Steve was about to say something, before seeing the look Eddie gave him. It was nothing he had ever seen before, something that struck a lightening of fear throughout his entire body. So instead he scrambled off the floor and left the apartment. Leaving Eddie breathing heavily.
Eddie calmed himself down, feeling the piercing glare that Nancy and Robin were giving him, unaware that you had opened the bedroom door slightly and were watching him.
He walked over to the kitchen, grabbing the phone and dialling Chrissy's number.
'Hello?' you heard her sickeningly sweet voice say.
The apartment was dead silent.
'Chrissy. It's Eddie'
'Oh Eddie! Hi! Are you still coming over later with Steve?'
'I don't know what Steve's doing, but I'm not coming. In fact I'm not going to be talking with you again, it's really affecting my relationship and I put my partners above anything else. So, we can't be friends anymore. And I'm not sorry.'
'What? Eddie! No wait!'
And the line went dead.
You watched as Eddie composed himself, Robin staring at him rather than glaring. Seeming somewhat happy with what he did.
You shut the door carefully, crawling back underneath the covers, feeling a small bit of joy crawl back into you, knowing Eddie still cared.
The bedroom door creaked open slowly, and you heard the familiar thumping of Eddie's boots, and then the mattress dip.
'Sweetheart I know how upset you are, I'm so fucking sorry. I don't agree with what Steve said at all. I just, I just love you so much and I don't know why I was such an asshole, and I know that's not an excuse, trust me. And I don't know if you heard but I kinda punched Steve, I'm sure he didn't mean it honey, you know he talks before he thinks, just like his asshole dad. And I'm not excusing him either-shit this is not coming out how i wanted'
'I forgive you' you mumble
'really?'
'Well telling Steve and Chrissy off is a start'
'I don't know what's wrong with him' Eddie mumbled
'Me either, but I think I'll find forgiving you a lot easier'
You rolled over and really noticed how disheveled Eddie looked.
'Eddie?'
'Yeah sweetheart?'
'When-when did you realise I was gone?'
'Soon as I heard that door close, I knew if I tried to go after you that it would make things worse, so I let you be for a while before basically yelling at Steve after running into Robin at the grocery store'
'You seem to be doing that a lot lately-yelling at Steve'
You watched him smile, a breathy chuckle escaping his chest.
'Robin-Robin said that Chrissy was holding your arm and laughing at something you said'
'Yeah, she thought I was joking when I told her to let go of my arm'
'Oh'
'Yeah, I'm really sorry sweetheart'
'I know, can tell by your hair' you smiled into the pillow
'Oh! You wound me! Not the hair!' Eddie pretends to be shot in the heart, falling back and into you.
You laugh at his antics and shove him under the blanket with you.
'You owe me hugs Munson, I haven't slept properly in nearly a week'
Eddie smiled, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that flooded him.
You felt his arms wrap around you and smiled into the pillow, faintly hearing Nancy yelling at somebody before falling into a deep sleep
Part 2 !
Oh boy Bozos have I had a rough day, as in I didn't have a rough day I just forgor to take medication and couldn't figure out why i didn't feel right!
Steve being a cunt instead of serving cunt </3
btw guys I love Chrissy's character, I just made her bitchy because I have the power to do that ig
cough its coming out later tonight aka 9th of april aka 8th for yall americanos
ANYWAY PART TWO SOON TEEHEE IM GONNA GO SLEEP !
#steve x reader#steddie x you#steddie x reader#steddie#eddie x steve#eddie x you#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x reader#king steve#STEVE IS AN ASSHOLE IM SORRY#stranger things au#stranger things
353 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wanna be with you everywhere
Surrounded by your earthly possessions, boxes upon boxes stacked and looming over you in your new home, you don’t know where to start. Steve reminds you that the most important thing is right in front of you (and has a box of his own for you to open).
Word Count: 2.7k
Content / Warnings: This is fairly tame and sweet. Reader is overtired and overwhelmed, but other than that - total fluff. Moving in together, a brief sex mention, Steve being romantic and totally down bad for reader. Maybe a big question is on the cards, idk.
Reader is referred to with one gendered honourific. (No spoilers…👀) I have tried to leave physical descriptions as neutral and inclusive as possible 🧡
If you are not 18+ please do press the back button
Author’s Note: Once again, soft Steve Harrington has invaded my brain. This is pretty short and sweet. Oh to feel safe and loved in his big beefy arms, amirite?
I hope you enjoy! Thank you for the love on Clean Slate & Pinch Me recently - it means a lot!!! Once again I had way too much fun on Canva... Let me know what you think / if you catch any typos!
Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.
Boxes. Heavy, full and labelled with a blocky scrawl. They are everywhere, stacked by the coffee table you had thrifted, the big squishy armchair for you to read in. You haven’t seen so many since your high school weekend job filling shelves and scanning groceries and wearing your customer service smile until your cheeks ached.
The smell of fresh paint and cardboard combined with the dry feeling that the boxes left on your hands makes you want to peel your skin off. You look around the room with your hands pressing into the small of your back while you stack more tasks on your mental to-do list. The room was empty a few hours ago, a total blank canvas.
The floor calls, grounding you.
With a sigh that pulls from the tips of your toes, you lie back against the cool wood and stretch your arms out by your sides. This is where the couch will go when it arrives. You close your eyes and feel the all-over ache from packing, carrying and lifting. Before the carrying and lifting was days of packing and organising.
That’s when it dawns on you - you still need to unpack them all.
Tears push themselves up and you feel your ugly-cry face break the dazed-but-happy expression you had been wearing all day. All you want is a hot shower and your comfy new bed. And -
“Hey.”
Steve.
Your dry hands cover your face, swiping your wet cheeks as your boyfriend closes the door - the door to your first apartment together - and navigates his way around the boxes to get to you. His presence cuts short your catastrophising.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, sounding almost panicked. “Do you hate it? I know the paint dried a little darker than we thought, but we can redo it. It’ll be okay.” Steve is quick to join you on the floor, lying on his side by you with one arm wrapped over your shaking body. “Babe…”
When you move your hands to look at Steve’s concerned face, you see that he looks as tired as you feel. Despite that, he’s still the most gorgeous person you have ever seen. His hair is crushed under a backwards baseball cap and there’s pizza sauce on his tshirt. His deodorant and aftershave has long worn off but you let him hold you, lying half on top of him on the floor, not ready or able to speak yet. Big hard-working hands sweep soothingly up and down your back. Steve’s good at that, letting you just cry it out, holding you steady and safe when you need to weep. He always seems to know what you need; a distraction or silence, gentle words or just the steady thud of his heart against your ear.
Despite the sweat and dust, Steve presses kisses to your forehead as you slowly settle. The fact that he’s so handsome and nice to you makes you sob shakily one more time.
“Just breathe, you’re okay.”
Steve is calm, but you know that inside that he’s wracking his brains to get to the bottom of why the love of his life was crying in the middle of their brand new apartment while he was waving off the friends who had helped you move. Had he said something stupid, was the paint really that ugly… Steve didn’t let his mind even go near the idea that you might be second guessing moving in together.
When he sees you peering up at him, his heart beats double time like it always does when you look at him. His attention is back on you now, out of his own head. You can see the cogs turning in his head and feel worse for making him worry about you, feel insecure or like he was the reason for your tears.
“Hi,” you whisper. “Sorry. Overwhelmed.”
“Don’t say sorry, honey. It’s okay.”
You rest your cheek on his chest again. His tshirt is stained wet from your tears now too but Steve doesn’t care.
You lie together on the floor, both aching and bone tired. From somewhere, you summon the energy to squeeze Steve as tight as possible, needing him to know how much you adore him. He makes a small happy noise before returning the squish.
“We’re here,” you murmur against his chest, before you free each other to lie side by side in the golden glow coming from the big un-curtained windows.
“Here we are. Welcome home, baby,” Steve says, turning his head to look at you again. He covers your hand and stroked his thumb over your racing pulse. “What’s going on in that big juicy brain of yours, huh?”
“Ew.” You laugh, wincing when your body reminds you that it has clocked out for the day, and meet Steve’s gaze. “All the boxes freaked me out. We still need to unpack everything, and the couch won’t fit if we don’t get some of them out of here -” Your voice shakes and catches and you make yourself take one slow deep breath. Steve squeezes you once, no rush. “I’m just so fucking tired, Stevie.”
Steve gives you a little smile. “I bet. You’ve been running the show today, making sure everything is perfect.” Steve had been up before you, excited to get going, and had spent the day lugging boxes with Eddie, never letting you take the heavy ones. You had caught yourself staring at how his biceps bulged deliciously a couple of times - Steve had caught you too and made sure to come give you some kisses when his hands were free. And he had checked in with you, not wanting you to get too caught up in making everything perfect or taking on too much of the responsibility - you were just better organised than him. The brains to his brawn, though he knew you didn’t like when he thought like that.
He sits up, then stands, groaning like a man older than his twenty-odd years. He holds out his hands to help you up, and he puts his arms around you once you’re upright.
“Everything’s where it needs to be. You and Nance had that list. Everything’s all colour coded.” You had both been armed with coloured markers and sticky notes to make sure the boxes were in the right rooms. “What’s the word? It’s meticulous, baby.” You can hear a smile in Steve’s low soft voice; he’s proud of himself for remembering and of you, for everything. It helps ease the tension bunched in your shoulders.
He kisses your head with a fierce amount of love. “It doesn’t need to be perfect right away okay? We’re in this together and we’ll figure it out. All that matters is you and me, yeah? You and me in our first place together. S’already perfect for me.”
Your heart hurts with how much love it holds for Steve Harrington. He’s right; all that matters is the two of you, boxes of bed sheets and belongings be damned.
Steve starts a slow sway, his fingers tucked into the belt loops on the back of your old jeans as you settle your hands on the base of his neck. He hums a song you both loved, one that had come on the radio in a moment of pure fate when you started the short drive from his old place to your new one together.
I want to be with you everywhere…
The smile Steve had graced upon you then was like pure gold and you turned the volume up loud, rolling down the windows as you sang together.
Now you feel his smile, wide and lovely, against your temple and peel back to look up at his face. “What’s the smile for, handsome?”
“M’happy.” You see that boyish twinkle in his eyes, and when he smiles Steve looks so innocently happy, the little boy who had to grow up too quickly. You press up on your toes, ignoring the burn in your feet to lessen the gap between you. He is quick to meet you halfway and accepts the kiss you land on his smiling mouth. Steve’s joy is contagious and he is as generous sharing it with you as he is with his kisses.
“I’m happy too, promise.” Foreheads pressed together, you close your eyes and let the calm feeling wash over you as Steve starts the sway again. You’re pressed together, head to toe.
“S’okay if you’re not. You don’t have to say you are if you feel shitty.” Steve’s voice tickles your cheek and he chases it with a kiss there.
“I am. We’re going to be so happy here, Steve. I love this place.” You feel the truth of your words deep in your bones, beyond your aches and pains. “Love you.”
Your words make his heart zing. “Love you more,” he whispers, nudging your nose with his own as he kisses his way back to your lips. “M’happy with you wherever we are, I just want to be with you.”
As you hold each other, swaying in the setting sunlight, you let the thought of unpacking shrink and enjoy the moment, calmness washing over you like a balm. Over the next few weeks and days you and Steve will place your things side by side, hang up pictures and clothes and fill the blank canvas. You’ll try the diner down the block for breakfast in the morning as a treat, and do your first grocery shop together. You have already promised each other that you’ll have sex in every room to christen the place (Steve’s idea, you loved it) and in a week or two you’ll invite your friends around for a party. You’ll make up the spare room for when the kids who aren’t kids anymore come to visit. There’s no rush, you have the rest of your lives to feather your nest together, find a bigger one when you’re ready.
You breathe him in, finding that scent that is simply Steve behind the fresh paint and sweat and the lingering smell of the pizza you shared with your best friends to say thank you for their help - the first party of many in your home together.
Steve presses his love into you with his kisses and stroking hands, thinking of the only box that matters to him; a small ring-box housing soft gold and sparkling jewels that reminded him of you. It’s not in any of the cardboard towers, or the overnight bags with the basics for your first night and morning. The little green velvet box sits heavy in his back pocket, plucked from the Beemers glove compartment while he was waving Eddie and the girls off (all of them had whispered their good luck while they hugged Steve fiercely tight).
Seeing you in tears made him second guess his timing, but as he sways with you now he couldn’t be more sure that you’re the one he wants to marry.
“Hey. Lemme take a picture of us,” he whispers, “The disposable still has a few shots left on it. Stay there.”
“Steve I look so gross,” you whine - but you have to admit it’s a sweet suggestion. His lips meet yours and he pecks the pout away.
“You’re beautiful,” he says in a murmur against your lips. “We can show our grandkids someday. You’n me, young and cool in our first place together.”
Steve’s heart beats double time at your grin and he makes your nose scrunch up when he dots kisses all over your face. “Wait there. The light is..” He kisses his own fingers with an over exaggerated ‘mwah’.
He leaves you laughing as he dodges boxes on the way to quadruple check the ring and fetch the camera.
You had both been snapping pictures all day, pictures that would end up in a photo album with little annotations of the date and who was in each shot; Steve & Robin hugging outside their apartment before hopping in the moving van, Eddie in an Iron Maiden tee with the sleeves cut off sticking his tongue out as he carried a box under one arm, you and Nancy deep in conversation on the sidewalk, you and Steve stealing a kiss in the empty kitchen (Nancy was stealthy with that one). There were three clicks left.
When Steve arrives back you’re poking through a box of books and thinking about how you’re going to stack them on the shelves (which will be dropped off tomorrow). Your smile when you see him lights up the room already glowing with the setting sun. You both think ‘how’d I ever get this lucky’ and find your way to each other, sharing another kiss before getting your picture taken.
Steve stands in front of the windows, tucking you under his arm as you both make the most of the golden light illuminating your tired smiling faces. After the click, he rolls the film on.
His heart beats hard and quick with anticipation, but he’s not nervous - he has never been so sure of a decision in his entire life. You are the one; his one.
Steve places the camera on the windowsill before taking your hands. “You’re the love of my life y’know?”
You look up and nod, squeezing his hands. “Mhm. And you’re mine. I love you so much I could scream.” You mean it too, thinking about how you could open up the window right now and shout to the city that you love Steve Michael Harrington.
He presses a single soft kiss to your forehead. “The best day of my life was the day you smiled at me in that little dive bar, baby. Ever since then, I knew I was a goner.” He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand. “I don’t ever want anyone else. Waking up next to you every day, and going to sleep with you every night... I feel like I’m dreamin’ sometimes. Like, how’d I get this lucky?” Steve squeezes your hands three times ‘I love you’. “You’re my love, my best friend.”
Your face hurts from smiling, about to quip that you promise not to tell Robin or Eddie, but instead you see Steve lowering himself down onto the floorboards - dropped down on one knee.
For a moment your mind goes blank until you see that little green velvet box, which he flicks open to show you the ring inside.
Steve says your name so quietly as he gazes up at you, “Will you marry me?”
All capacity for speech evades you. Your focus is all on Steve, barely comprehending the gorgeous ring winking at you in his hands. Every cell of your body is screaming S T E V E. You manage to nod as more tears press and push up and spill down your cheeks.
You let him take your hand to slide the ring on. A perfect fit. If you could think straight you would remember one of your favourite rings going missing for a week a while back - the culprit kneeling in front of you.
You pull him up this time, crushing your body to his as you babble ‘yes!’ a thousand times, even as he kisses you with his own wet cheeks pressing to yours.
Everything feels soft around the edges, luminous and dreamlike, as you see Steve and his smile and his love for you in bright high definition. You take his face in your hands - the left one ever so slightly heavier now - and you bring your faces together.
“Hi Future Mrs Harrington,” he whispers, each syllable filled with an almost-giggly bubbling joy.
“Hi Mr Harrington,” you whisper back, feeling his hands squeezing your hips. You kiss him again, smiling too much to make it last pass a few slow romantic pecks and you’re just holding each other, glowing.
In that moment everything is perfect, your previous sense of total overwhelm replaced by utter joy. Tired and still a little sweaty, dust on your jeans and your hair coming undone, you’re still the most beautiful creature Steve Harrington has ever laid eyes on - even more so now with the promise on your hand.
Steve reaches out to take up the camera again. “Still got two more. Engagement pic for the grandkids?” he asks, and you practically squeal with delight when you realise he had it all planned.
As he angles the camera in front of you both, hoping the light is still okay and that he’s not chopping off his own head, you hold your ring up to make sure it’s in frame. That picture, and the next one of you two sharing a kiss with diamonds glimmering in the dipping sunlight, will take pride of place in that little album of the day you moved in together, the day Steve Harrington asked you to marry him.
Likes, comments and reblogs are absolutely cherished and adored!
Bonus next day diner breakfast Steve for the girlies - thank you for reading 🩷
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington x f!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#platonic stobin#Steve Harrington x you#stranger things#Steve Harrington x fem!reader#Steve Harrington x y/n#steve harrington is a total dreamboat#my fic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#stranger things fanfiction#steve stranger things#bangaveragefics
179 notes
·
View notes
Text
Some Kind Of Stranger.
(Sirius x Reader)
Cw: Angst, Smut, Dub/Noncon. Afab reader. Prisoner (also falsely accused) reader and they are having a very bad time™️ Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Comfort Sex in a very uncomfortable place.
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Condemned to rot in Azkaban, you find yourself thrown into a cell already inhabited by a particularly infamous wizard. Perhaps you can stave off the torment together…
Dividers by @/saradika
Your life is forfeit.
Until now, the threat of death never seemed real. Not when you were seized by the officials and dragged before the ministry, not when those cold, sneering faces looked down upon you and sentenced you to a life in Azkaban for a crime you didn’t commit. It was a farce, a bad practical joke. It couldn’t be real.
Perhaps you were simply enduring some nightmare; this was only a dream, you’d soon find your coworker, Mildred, shaking you vigorously - wake up, you lazy git! Do you even know what bloody time it is? - And then, you’d wipe the crust from your eyes, pull on your Honeydukes apron and go back to peddling sugar to those titchy new Hogwarts kids, who shrink more and more each year.
No. It’s now that it feels real. Now, you're forced behind rusty iron bars, stranded in the middle of the ocean, trapped forever. All you can hear is the crying and moaning of the other prisoners, who sob and bay like animals. You’re still frozen in shock.
Then, the panic sets in. Sinking and emptying, like a vast hole has opened up in your stomach. But you can’t even scream anymore; it dies in your throat like a broken whistle. Instead you just cry, sliding down to the filthy floor in a pathetic heap. No matter how you plug your ears, the older inmates howl louder, joining in a cacophony that almost deafens you.
After a while, the din thankfully quiets down. Exhausted, you drift off into uneasy sleep for a few hours, until some damp chill startles you again. You feel numb and heavy. For the first time since you came here, you take in your surroundings, though there isn’t much: You’re boxed into a container of rock, packed like a product. In one shadowed corner, there’s a pulpy grey lump stuck to the wall like mould. You blink away the darkness and realise it is a vaguely human shape: one with filthy, matted hair.
He is a man; or the sordid remnants of one.
He’s wearing the same drab, striped clothing as you, though older and rattier and crusted with grime. For a moment, you’re convinced he’s dead. The idea of being locked in with a rotting corpse flashes horrifyingly through your mind. But then, he raises his gloomy head. He must be waking up, too.
“Hello?” You gently call out to him. Your voice echoes around the room. You scrape your knee on the floor as you crawl over, trying to see him better.
Almost immediately, you regret your decision.
This is a mistake. Oh, god, it has to be.
The prisoner sharing your cell is Sirius Black.
That Sirius Black.
Sirius Black, who once fired off a curse that killed twelve muggles before you. Sirius Black, whose gaunt and hollowed cheeks now recall the skeleton you first believed he was. Sirius Black, who’s gazing fixedly at you now, in awe, as if you’re an apparition.
“Hello,” he echoes back, and his voice is so gravelly that he sounds like he’s swallowed a bag full of glass. His eyes are wide and strangely bright.
“I…”
Your throat constricts.
The panic from earlier almost drove you into hysterics. Now, you’re just a deer in the headlights.
He rises, advancing towards you.
“You don’t look like one of them,” Black rasps. You follow his line of sight towards your empty forearm.
“N-no, I’m not a Death Eater!” You cry, and scramble quickly away. Still, you feel the urgent need to clamp a hand down there. It’s as if his gaze burns you.
“I’m Innocent! I didn’t do it, I swear, I… I… ”
But you’re choked up with tears again. Now the dam is breached, and you can’t staunch the flow. You were so sullen and distant before the actual judges, but as you’re confronted with death at the hands of a possible madman, you’re desperate to prove yourself. It’s all completely pointless, but you can’t help it. You felt it when you failed your N.E.W.T’s, too. The weight of inevitability; the realisation that a door had slammed permanently shut on your life.
You’re so beside yourself, you don’t register how close Black has gotten. Now, you can feel his warm breath tickling your ear, almost pleasantly. But then you flinch, as images of brute, bloody violence force themselves into your head. All you know of this man is that he’s a ruthless killer, that’s he’s…
“Not going to hurt you,” Black tells you. He’s backed you into a wedge in the stone, with nowhere else to turn to but him. You feel like a cornered animal.
“Don’t cry, now,” he says quietly. A bony, shaking knuckle comes to wipe the wetness from your cheek. “If you are Innocent, don’t you forget. It helps not to.”
Don’t Forget… Black’s words solidify in your mind. You swallow down a lump. The scrape on your knee is beginning to sting painfully. You realise it’s bleeding.
“Wouldn’t do to catch an infection here, eh?” He quips. Black clumps together the cleanest strip of cloth he has and dabs at your weeping knee.
You blink owlishly. It’s so starkly conversational, it sounds like it came from an entirely different man.
“Um… No. No.” You sniff and rub your eye; it smarts. “You’re right, It really wouldn’t do.” You glance sheepishly back up at his pale face.
“…Thankyou,” you sigh, and you mean it.
For a brief second, this encounter feels precious. Without realising it, you’ve relaxed so much tension in your tired body. Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation you’ve found yourself in hits you like a ton of bricks. How could you have ever imagined you’d be comforted by a convicted murderer? He’s bent forward, staring intently at you, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. A little too intently.
Black’s tattered shirt gapes open like a wound, and your gaze dips instinctively downward, tracing black-inked, swirling tattoos. His bare chest is coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Black’s hand brushes momentarily against yours, and you hurry to pry your wandering eyes away.
It’s no use, though, because he’s rather caught on. You believe you half-fantasise the ghost of a cheeky smile, twitching beneath his rugged whiskers.
He would’ve been handsome, once. He still is.
“Tell me your name,” Black murmurs, and licks his cracked lips. “I want to know.”
You tell him. He nods faintly, and draws closer.
Black’s grey eyes are half-lidded. He’s leaning flush against you now, breathing huskily, almost clinging to you, like he can’t bear to be apart from your heat. Maybe you’ve already lost the plot - after barely a day here - but the anguished, far-away longing in his expression makes your heart pang.
Eleven years ago now, it must’ve been…
A shrill, unwelcome noise cuts through the silence. Outside, another inmate is shrieking.
Then, the nightmare truly begins: an eerie rattle dragging across the air, knife-sharp, closing in, as certain as death. You realise immediately that it is the Dementors - your prison guards- even without seeing them. You feel them, cold like a sheet of ice, crushing you, inescapable.
You shift, darting your eyes around your cell; you must think of something, anything else.
Your distraction comes in a rush of warmth, cocooning you in a grimy coat. Black has caged you into his arms, and will not budge.
“Stay here with me,” he breathes. His voice is raw and hoarse, pleading: “Just for one moment…”
He shudders violently, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Black squeezes you so tightly, so desperately, you feel like you’re suffocating.
“Sirius,” you croak out a protest. “Wait, let me go.”
The sound of his own name jolts him out of his panic, but his grip on you remains unrelenting. Sirius turns a sharp glare on you that makes you shiver.
Before, his gaze was fond, almost gentle, but now there’s a hungry glint in his eyes. It reminds you of the starving, feral dogs that roam the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the ones that’d rip your throat out for a mere scrap of meat. No, he may not have tried to kill you, but that doesn’t mean you should’ve let your guard down. You’re powerless to stop him now.
“Don’t leave, don’t you dare leave me,” he’s chanting through dirty, gritted teeth.
“I’m not going to leave, Sirius,” you muster. “I’ll stay, I’ll stay here with you…” The words seem to pacify him a little, and he softens his touch once more. You see again the sad, forlorn expression, and pity floods your heart. He’s a hurt man. A lonely man…
Another frigid spike of mental agony is driven through you, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You no longer have the willpower to resist. He’s so warm, his body wrapped around you like a protective blanket. You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat underneath his striped shirt, pounding like a drum.
“Help…” He sounds so lost, feverish. “…Stave it off.”
You find yourself nodding, pressing yourself closer to him. He’s right. It hurts you, too, the Dementors’ presence. All you have now is each other. Sirius strokes a clammy hand over your tear-stained cheek, lifts your chin and kisses you. His lips taste salty and bitter, and your teeth clash together clumsily with the urgency of it. You rush to hook your arms around his neck, fingers raking across knots and tangles in his dark, unkempt hair.
Sirius groans heavily into your mouth, bucking his hips. He’s so malnourished you can feel the harsh angle of his pelvic bone jut against you. Something else, hard, twitches fervently over your thigh. He tightens his hold on you before you can react, grasping your thighs and grinding powerfully over your still clothed cunt. You whimper as his heat radiates into you. Sirius doesn’t stop, panting frantically. Maybe he can’t stop. He’s trapped you between himself and the cold, hard stone, and you start to crave friction and relief from him. Something you can focus on that isn’t discomfort or pain. But you’re completely at his mercy in this position, and can only rub your clit wantonly against the throbbing outline of his dick. A low, pleased grumble resounds in his throat, almost canine.
Sirius paws at the confines of your inmate’s rags, and without warning, he forcefully disrobes you. You gasp as a freezing gust of air pimples gooseflesh on your exposed skin, but he’s on you just as fast, You cling instinctively onto his jacket as he hoists you onto his waiting lap. He latches onto your throat with a greedy bite, sucking ravenous hickies down to your collarbone. Sirius rolls a hot tongue over your hardened nipple, and you tug again at his tangled locks as he grazes tantalisingly over it with his teeth.
His hands are everywhere, movements once well-practised, natural, stirred into a lustful frenzy. One comes to pinch at your other nipple, another is slipping past your stomach, down in between your thighs where you’re needy and slick. You can’t help the moan that escapes past your lips as the pad of his thumb circles over your sensitive clit.
For a small, blissful moment, you rock into his palm as he holds you, stifling your mewls into his shoulder as he massages the bundle of nerves there. Oh, fuck, you need him, as much as you need air to breathe. If you shut your eyes, you can almost pretend that you weren’t here; that you are joyful and unfettered, making love to a free man.
“Mm, Sirius!”
Sirius curls another long finger into your wet slit, and you could swear the glint in his eye is smugly satisfied. He pumps mercilessly into your pussy, not sparing your clit from his attention, and it isn’t long before you feel a thrill rippling up your spine; tight, warm pressure building in your abdomen.
But then he seems to grow antsy and impatient. You whine as he pulls his hand away, but he hushes you, pressing a consoling kiss to your temple. The lucid side to him, the one that still cares for your comfort, provides you with his coat to rest your head on. You lie down, shuddering as the frigid air assaults you again. You grab at his rags as he quickly undresses. He’s taking too long, too long…
Sirius drags down the waistband of his slacks and releases the straining hardness of his cock. It’s erect and veiny, leaking precum from an enraged tip.
He’s left you so soaked that he meets no resistance as he buries himself deep into your ready cunt. You groan as you adjust to the girth of him, stretching your gummy walls. Sirius grunts, clutching your thighs so tightly his nails leave indents on the tender flesh. Sweat is pouring down his forehead in rivulets, and you reach up to brush damp hair away from his haggard face. It occurs to you faintly that maybe after such deprivation, this much sensation is overwhelming him. That notion is swiftly dashed as he stutters his hips jerkily into yours, and you squeak out a moan as your nerves jolt with pleasure. You clamp your legs down over his waist, rocking back into him with all the force you can muster.
Sirius is picking up pace faster and faster; he’s had enough of being attentive. He braces you against the thin material of his coat and begins fucking you in earnest, and his rough, sloppy thrusts knock the breath clean out of you. The impact of skin on skin echoes around your cell, drowning out the screams of agony from outside. You arch into him, clawing meagrely onto his biceps for purchase as your shoulder blades burn across the ground.
Sirius growls and grips the back of your neck, lifting you up to pull you into a hungry kiss. His free hand slips down to ruthlessly tease your clit again, and the inescapable power of his body dumbs your senses. It’s a mercy: now all you can feel is him, all you can think of is… The taut razor wire in your belly is threatening to snap. You’re so close now, and it’s like he can taste it, muffling your cries with his tongue as he buckles down and pounds into you.
Then it all breaks, a flash of heat rippling through you like an electric shock. The force of your climax is so strong that you instinctively writhe away from him, but Sirius holds you firmly down and only fucks you harder as you come, rumbling with satisfaction as you spasm and clench uncontrollably around his dick. You can barely comprehend how his movements are faltering, growing increasingly messy and desperate…
Sirius groans hoarsely before he drags himself out of you. His cum splashes over your still twitching stomach in a thick, white rope. He slumps, shuddering out a jagged sigh. Your orgasm lathers over you until it tapers off into a pleasant buzz. For a while, all you can hear is your intermingling breaths, panting in sync. Now that he’s pulled out, you feel strangely hollow and empty inside.
Uncaring of your still sticky belly, Sirius heaves his sweaty body on top of you and smothers you like a blanket. You only wish he could clog your senses, too, so that this reality could fade away. Seeking sanctuary in his warmth, you press your eyes shut and resolve to fall asleep and dream of better days.
Your life is forfeit. Now you will exist without sun, without moon, without food or water. Someday you may forget your own name.
But you will have this. You will have this.
#was trying to write some fun sexy smut then it turns out quite angsty#but for me I think that’s just par for the course#I honestly haven’t read the books in years I just think escaped prisoner Sirius is hot 🤷♀️#the wiki is my friend#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#sirius black#sirius black x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black in azkaban#tw dubcon#afab reader#smut#angst#my writing
161 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m about to come onto my period and ur dad Spencer blurb has sent me!!!! Pls pls pls do an other one May be with like elementary school kid (only if u want of course!)
okay this is what i came up with because it's so spencer
The morning sun is peeking through the blinds as Spencer stands in the doorway, watching Maisie pack up her backpack and lunch box. She's at the age where she loves her independence, but Spencer is a planner, and he needs to know she has everything she might need for her first day of school.
He's feeling some big feelings - a phrase you've both used with Maisie. It's a mix of emotions, some excitement for her new journey, but also a sense of sadness that his little girl is growing up so quickly.
"Daddy, are you okay?" Maisie looks up at her father with concern.
Spencer blinks away his tears and smiles down at her. He knows he needs to be brave for her. "I'm fine, sweetie. I'm just a little sad today. You're growing up so fast."
Maisie gives him a tight hug before grabbing his hand and leading him to the car. "It's okay, Daddy. I'll always be your little girl."
That makes him want to sob more.
As you drive to school, Spencer's nerves begin to set in. As much as he doesn't want to, he can't help but feel a sense of sadness at the thought of letting her go. There are some nerves too, a lump forming in his throat as he runs through the worst possibilities.
All three of you go in, making sure she remembers where her classroom is and ensuring she's okay. Once it's time to say goodbye, she's happy to leave you both, a welcomed surprise considering she's clingy with her dad. She waves goodbye to both of you with her wide, Spencer-like grin.
He's not okay on the way to the car. You can tell he's holding back tears and you squeeze his hand affectionately.
It's when you're back in the car that he lets it out, tears falling down his cheeks that he doesn't make an effort to hide.
"Baby." You coo, still holding his hand as you wait for him to tell you what's going on in his big beautiful brain, even though you can guess.
He leans his head back on the headrest, sighing. "It's just... she's growing up so fast. It feels like only yesterday that she was a baby, and now she's starting school. Before we know it, she'll be graduating, going off to college, and starting her own life."
All the memories of her younger years flood his mind. He misses the times when she would fall asleep on his chest,= and how he could hold her tiny body in his.
It seemed like only yesterday she was a newborn, wrapped in a blanket and sleeping soundly in his arms in the hospital. Then she was a toddler, gaining confidence on her feet and getting into everything. And now, she was a bright, curious five-year-old eager to start her education.
You run your hand through his curls before wiping his slower-flowing tears. "I know." You agree. "But we still have so many more memories to make with her between now and then. And she'll be okay." You know that's one of his worries, deep down, after what happened to him. "She's already so smart, and she'll make so many friends."
Spencer nods, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "You're right. I just... I can't help but feel like I'm losing her. Like she's slipping away from me."
You lean over and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "You're not losing her, Spencer. You're just sharing her with the world. And she's going to do amazing things, I know it."
He smiles at you gently, grateful for your endless support. "Thank you, sweetheart. You always know what to say."
You sit there for a few more moments, thinking about how much fun she's probably already having. Spencer feels endless amounts of joy, knowing she's going to have the best time in her new chapter.
323 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii i was wondering if you could write gerard way x fem reader angst?
Hii sorry it took me so long, i was going through stuff, but I'm back on Tumblr now. I hope you'll like it :)
A million little pieces
Word count : 738
Pairing: Gerard Way x reader (gender neutral)
Description : In which reader wants to get married but Gerard doesn't really like the idea
Gener: angst
Warning : language ¿
"Will you marry me?" I got down on one knee, looking up at the man of my dreams, smiling up at him and holding out the open velvet box with the ring in it
"Y/n please get up..." I looked at him as i got up, my smile slowly disappearing as i realized how stupid it was to do it
"I'm not gonna marry you" my heart shattered in millions of little pieces that would never be put back together, all i could say is a quivery "why?" As i closed the ring box, not looking at Gerard's direction
"Because I'm not ready to get married y/n. God this is so stupid why would you even ask me to?" His voice sounded irritated
"The idea of marrying me is that stupid? Really?!" My voice came out angrier than i intended "god how stupid uh? Marrying the person you love? So so fucking stupid." I rolled my eyes and looked at him, waiting for him to say something but he stared at me, not a single emotion detected on his face
"Say something Gerard" I swang my arms up in frustration, the ring box dropping to the floor, he looked at it as if he was waiting for something to happen
"I don't want to marry you y/n" His words hurt me more than anything before
"You're amazing, really"
Tears were rolling down my checks, my entire body was shaking "then why?"
"I don't know y/n, i. Dont. Know" he was frustrated by the situation, and so was I
"Yes you do know Gerard, just say what you have to say"
He looked at me and took a deep breath "i do love you, but.." he stopped for a few seconds, I felt nauseous, i was sceard my knees would give up and i would fall to the ground
"But I'm not in love with you anymore, and it wouldn't be right of me to marry you if I don't feel the same as you"
I nodded my head, closing my eyes 'please this is just a bad dream please' i kept repeating in my head
I opened my eyes after a few moments and looked at the man standing in front of me and took a breath, not letting myself brake infront of him
"One of us should move out then" i said and turned my back to him, walking to our bedroom, i felt him come after me
"We should talk about it first don't ypu think?" All i wanted to do was slap him when je said that.
I stood at the door of our bedroom looking at our bed, the bed we've been shearing for the past year.
How stupid was i to think we were in love with each other. How stupid...
I walked to the closet with a suit case and started packing "you're leaving now? Y/n we should talk. I can sleep on the couch, let's just talk about what we should do"
"I'm not leaving, you are." I said as i put a few of his clothes in the suit case, not thinking rationally, and not wanting to.
All i wanted was to get back to the way we were, but that was impossible
"And we have nothing to talk about. You don't love me anymore, we're not getting married and we can't be together cuz, like you said, you don't love me anymore"
I gave him the suit case and looked at him waiting for him to get out, he didn't
"I do love you, just not the way i used to, not the way you want me to love you. I don't want us to lose each other."
I rolled my eyes, tears were still streaming down my face
"We can stay friends"
I laughed at the idea of staying friends, how could i ever be friends with him after all those years of being in love with him
"Get out Gerard. Get out and don't ever talk to me again"
He didn't fight this time, he knew it was worthless to fight me now, he took his stuff and got out of the house
As soon as i heard the front door closing i fell to my knees, i started sobbing, I don't know how to come back from this
I just lost the only man i ever loved. Forever.
#gerard way x reader#gerard x reader#Gerard way x gn!reader#Gerard way x reader angst#x reader#gerard way#mcr x reader#my chemical romance x reader#my chem x reader#angst#mcr x reader angst
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
@blacklaces my darling, this one and the next (that I'll write soon I promise lmao) are for you!
Part 1 | Part 8 | Part 10
Tennis AU - Part 9 (1.5k words holy hell)
Max shuffled uncomfortably on the sofa, shifting his half hard dick to rest more comfort in his sweats.
He'd flown into Paris this morning and was waiting on Daniel to finish his media duties for the day. He was playing tomorrow in the semi finals against Novak Djokovic, someone who even Max knew about in his limited tennis knowledge. He knew Daniel was…nervous about the match up, knew that Daniel had a losing streak against the almost robotic champion.
They had matched up a handful of times over the last few years at different majors tournaments. And Daniel had lost all but once. In 2018.
In 2016, they had played each other in Center Court in the Wimbledon Men's Finals and Daniel had lost in spectacular fashion after a tie break. It was apparent even to Max that he hadn't had the right conditioning at the time and his game had broken down. Novak had smelt blood in the water and had the match won in no time.
Max had watched the highlights in the plane, his heart ached at seeing Daniel's pissed off face while he stood there with his consolation prize, listening to Novak thank him for being a good opponent. Max knew the feeling, and knew that his lover had internalized it deeply and made himself a better player because of it.
They'd met again in 2018, an almost mirror of their circumstances two years prior. Max had put on the full match on the big screen the moment he settled into the Parisian apartment he was renting. He’d had a few hours to kill before Daniel was available and already knew that he had won it, it was the lone Wimbledon win in his stat list. Pundits and journos alike lauded it as an amazing comeback story. A redemption London.
He found himself in a daze, he wasn't sure which set they were in anymore. All he could focus on was the grunts and groans of exertion (not completely dissimilar to his moans of pleasure) and the tight clench of Daniel's ass as he ran, heaved and lunged along the grass. His little white shorts showing to all and sundry the perfect shape of it. The tattoos on his thighs– the collection not yet complete, were stark against the soft white of his shorts and the tanned olive of his skin.
The roar of the crowd broke him from his daze, and from his unconscious palming of himself. Daniel on the TV had fallen on his back in the grass, his hands cupping his face and hiding his overjoyed reaction from the camera and crowd. He eventually sat up with his legs bent, shorts riding up sinfully, looking around the packed stadium with glassy honey eyes as everyone stood to their feet cheering for him. The camera zoomed in on his wet smile and the commentators waxed poetic about how his grin was one of the brightest and most recognizable on the circuit. They spoke about how much he deserved it and how much better a player he was since 2016.
An official motioned to his family and Daniel jumped to his feet and waved to the still cheering crowd before picking his way to the family box. He crumpled into his mother's arms, sobbing into her hair while she rubbed his back. His father and sister crowded around them, knowing it was best to go to him than wait for him to come to them. By the time he collected himself, an official was leading him back to his bench to prepare for the awards ceremony.
Max paused the feed and grabbed his ringing phone;
"Hey Daniel."
"Hey Maxy, I'm just about done here. Are we still on for lunch?"
"Yeah, I was thinking we could order in at my apartment?"
"I thought we were going to like a beestroh."
Max snorted at his exaggeration. "I've thought about it, and cafe bathrooms are too tiny and I want to do more than just give you a quick handjob."
"Maxy-" Daniel sounded scandalized, then he muttered; "thank God I didn't have you on speaker. I'm sure that would have been the story of the Open."
"You know better than that." Max said coolly, pressing his palm again against his now half chub. He could hear Daniel's smile and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"Send me your address."
They hung up shortly after and Max texted over the apartment's address as requested and then ordered food from a nearby café.
Daniel arrived before their lunch and Max kissed him hello at the door, pressing him into the heavy wood. Daniel moaned, fisting his hands into Max's soft cotton shirt.
There was a sudden knock and they detangled themselves bemusedly so Max could accept the food delivery. Daniel walked further into the space, blushing at the paused video still on the screen. Max joined him in the living area, wrapping his arms around Daniel's rounded shoulders.
"Watching my greatest hits?" Daniel bit his lip.
"Do you still have those white shorts?" Max asked instead, pressing Daniel's back into his chest, hooking his head over his shoulder. Daniel barked out a shocked laugh,
"I'm not sure, probably. Liked what you saw?" He turned into the circle of Max's arms so they were face to face.
"I, of course, prefer you with nothing on. But those white shorts are a close second." Max watched as Daniel's smile widened. He leaned in for a kiss and Max met him halfway, pressing their lips together and licking into each other's mouths.
"Did Blake send any instructions?" Max pulled back as Daniel snorted.
"I can't even be mad at you because of course he did." Daniel giggled, dropping his forehead on Max's shoulder. "Pretty much the usual, curfews at eight and 'nothing too rigorous'."
Max laughed, "we shall save the 'rigorous activities' then for when you win, of course."
"Are you trying to incentivize me to win?" Daniel’s eyes crinkled in his mirth, his body shaking Max’s with the force of his giggles. Max smiled widely.
"I was going to rim you, but that might be too rigorous so you'll have to wait until tomorrow. After you win." Max smirked as Daniel's smile fell into a slack O.
"You can't just say that! Now I'm gonna have a hard on the whole time." He whined, pressing his hips flush against Max's, their cocks meeting.
"I'll help with your pre match prep—"
"Don't you dare fucking— fuck what's the word— pavlov me. Is that the word? Don't you fuckin make it so that I think of you while I'm prepping for a match. That's the most evil thing—" Daniel accused with a laugh, he watched as Max's eyes turned into crescents while he laughed.
"That is the meanest thing, I'm gonna fuckin make sure you get hard before every race now." Daniel continued to tease.
"I of course am ok with this, it means I get to keep you, always." Max stilled as he realized belatedly what escaped his lips in his happiness. He watched Daniel's reaction as honey eyes widened briefly then softened. Daniel opened his mouth to say something and closed it once, then twice before settling on a small, tender smile. A blush high on his cheeks.
"I'm ok with that too." Daniel whispered eventually, licking his lips nervously and looking into Max's waiting, blue eyes.
Max surged forward, contracting the small space between them and molded Daniel's kiss swollen lips with his own. Daniel moaned into his mouth, relaxing into Max's lead and eagerly massaging their tongues together.
Max eased them into the sofa, crowding on top of Daniel's pliant form. They made out languidly as if they had all the time in the world. Reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies, almost reverently now with this new turn of their relationship.
Soon, Daniel's sweatshirt and Max's Tshirt were discarded to the floor. They groped and stroked each other, careful to not leave any marks or bruises. Contrary to what Blake, Michael and Lando thought, Max had self control around Daniel. He may not exercise it, but he at the very least was aware of its existence.
He, as much as everyone else, wanted Daniel to win tomorrow. He wanted Daniel to be 100% ready for the battle ahead. Daniel didn't need to be worried about a bruise pulling at an inopportune moment, or a muscle cramping from being held in a position (more than likely over Max's shoulder) for too long. He could hold back. He'd show them.
Shucking down both their sweatpants inelegantly, Max pulled back from Daniel’s sinful mouth and spat into his palm. He cradled their dicks together in his large hand and swallowed Daniel's moan as he stroked them off slowly, rocking his hips a little to help provide some friction.
Daniel panted, clenching his fingers into Max's blonde strands to almost center himself. He whispered curses and praise into Max's lips, the other man feeding off of his pleasure. He always enjoyed taking Daniel apart.
With a shudder and a long moan, Daniel came first, shooting his hot load over Max's hand and against their bellies. Max hummed in satisfaction, using Daniel's cum to further lubricate his grip before he too came with a groan, mixing with Daniel's mess.
They breathed shakily into each other's mouths, feeling their lips brush lightly with the movements. As if their mouths couldn't help but touch.
"So are we gonna do this before every match day or…?" Daniel broke the silence, smiling at Max's snort.
"If that is what you want."
"As long as I get you, I'm good."
"I'm glad."
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)
Chapter Four
Rats, Dinner, and Deals
Prologue and oc intro
Chapter one
Chapter two
Chapter three
Gaston came as quickly as he could, you were locked in the bathroom for only a few minutes before you got a text from the composer telling you that he was here. You made your way to the front door from the bathroom and opened it to see Gaston there with just as a panicked expression as you. Without a work he grabbed you and hugged you. “Are you alright? What happened? Are you safe?”
You choked on a sob and hugged the Frenchman back. You weren’t able to get a coherent response out at the current moment so he leads you over to the couch in your living room. He sat and held you for a long minute, letting you calm down. Your breathing slowly steadied and you calmed down. He slowly let go, still staying by your side and he repeated his questions. “What happened? Are you safe?”
“I can’t tell you, they’ll find me, they’ll find you Gaston. They were at the shop.” You spoke in a hushed tone, terrified as before.
“Who? The Port Mafia?” Gaston questioned, his worry clear and apparent. You nodded and he silently cursed under his breath, “Fuck, this isn’t good. I…” he paused on his words, the nervous demeanor of the composer you knew changed to somewhat of a protective demeanor, “…Something doesn’t feel right… this isn’t their style. Can I see it?”
You nodded and led him over to the table where everything was set. Gaston walked around the table inspecting it, then his eyes stopped at the roses. He tilted his head and picked one up, spinning it around in his hand. Then Gaston asked a rather odd question, “How does your shop prepare the roses you sell?”
“It’s two dozen roses, the thorns cut off and the stems angled cut so they last longer.” At your explanation he hummed and handed the rose to you, and then you noticed it, the stem wasn’t cut. and then you realized. “Someone else set this up, trying to make it look like that mafioso did this.”
“Exactly, which means you have someone following you.” He sighed and tossed the rose aside onto the table. He stood in thought for a long second before sighing. “I have a friend you can spend the night with, I’ll call her and… I’ll get things cleaned up. You get some clothes packed and in the morning we’ll go to the Armed Detective Agency to hire them to look into who did this.”
“But we don’t kno-“
“Trust me, (Name).”
“Fine, but if anything goes south we end it then and there.” He nodded at your request before you ran off to your bedroom to get some things together. Gaston took out his phone and dialed up a number and someone in an apartment not to far away answered.
“Ma’am, I have a friend who needs a place to stay right now. Could she stay with you for the night at least?” As the other person on the line answered Gaston began to dig through the things left on the table, the underside of the flower vase, the table cloth and the the gift box. He opened it and saw a necklace, more expensive and anything you have ever owned. He flipped it around you see a small symbol engraved on the back.
“Yes, just keep an eye on her for a bit, I don’t know how safe she is. What will I be doing? Well m’lady…” He glared down at the engraving on the back of the necklace, a smiling rat. “I have a rat to catch.”
—————————
Gaston took you back to the same apartment building that he lived in, but not to the same room, it was the door before it. Gaston knocked and a moment later a young maid answered the door, allowing Gaston and yourself to answered. The entryway was absolutely beautiful, white wallpaper with golden details, hard word floors, and furniture with beautiful detailing, and expensive paintings hanged on the walls. The maid took your jackets and led you to the sitting room where you saw a young woman sitting a velvet chair. The woman was beautiful, someone straight out of the Regency period, she had her brown hair tied up in a low bun with a blue ribbon tired around it, and dawned a blue dress that matched her hair ribbon and eyes. Gaston walked forward and kissed her hand, something normal between the two and he looked at her and then back at you.
“(Name), this is Miss Jane Austen. Jane is a close friend of mine from Europe, she came here as well to handle a few loose ends in her family business,” Jane smiles at you and saw you uneasiness and Gaston noticed as well and spoke up again. “Don’t worry she’s like us.”
She smiles and nodded gesturing for you to sit down across from her. “You can relax, I’m having my chef preparing dinner at the moment. We’ll have dinner here soon.” Jane had this beautiful and kind glow about her, something that was so hidden these days, it was something that Jane wore with such pride. “These are dark days, my dear. You are welcome to stay with me as long as you wish. Besides I like having guests, it’s enjoyable, especially these days.”
Gaston watched from the side with a smile before taking a step back. “I’m afraid this is where I must take my leave, I have some work to tend to before I turn in for the night.” He bowed to the both of you before taking his jacket and making his leave. So now it was only you and Jane in the room.
“Where do you come from, Miss Austen?” You questioned, trying to find something to break the ice. You have a vague idea for her homeland with her accent, British in origin from what little you could tell.
“Steventon, a village in Hampshire, England. I was born and raised there. I’m the seventh of eight children actually.” She laughed to herself at that fact. “I was lucky enough to have a traditional family, nothing like things these days.”
“I see, how do you and Gaston know each other?”
“Social events and a mutual friend, Dr. R.L. Stevenson. She lives here as well, in the apartment building that is, there is a medical convention in Tokyo that she’ll be attending.” Jane answered, she seemed to be an honest woman, if anything a bit formal, but honest. “She won’t be joining us tonight, she has a meeting with a donor to her work, anonymous to me I’m afraid.”
“Oh that’s alright, does that mean someone else will be there tonight?”
“Yes, another friend of Gaston’s and mine, Victor Hugo. An architect, he is the designer and owner of this building actually. He’s a bit of a jumpy thing, but his genius is undeniable.” You remembered Gaston mentioning Victor earlier today, he had just described him as a good friend, not much else. Before you could get to keep into your thoughts there was a sharp knock at the door . “Ah and that must be him, Joan may you get the door please?”
The maid nodded and walked off to answer the door. You heard a brief chatting and the shuffling of shoes and fabric and then turning the corner you saw a man with light brown hair, a fine complexion, and a fine clothing. He smiled at the two of you, his hands tucked into his pockets, and he sat on the corner of the same couch as Jane. From him you cold only hear a small. “Hello”
Jane smiled at the shy man before looking ack at you, waiting for someone to say something. You picked up her queue and reached out a hand to Victor. “(Name), pleasure to meet you.”
He took your hand and gave it a shake, not exactly firm but good enough . “I know, Gaston told me about you. I’m Victor.”
“Oh what did he say?”
“T-that you were nice… I-I don’t remember anything else.” He turned red at the embarrassment of forgetting what he was told about only hours prior. Jane set a hand on his shoulder and a gave it a comforting squeeze.
“It’s alright Victor, we all forget things.” Jane’s voice was kind and gentle to her friend. He gave her a weak smile in return as if in silent conversation with her. Then a bell rang that made Victor jump in surprise, it was the dinner bell. Jane stood up and gestured to the both of you. “Dinner is ready, you you two would be kind enough to follow me to the dining room.”
Jane lead you down another hallway into a large hall, more fit for a palace, it was a dining room with a ebony table that contrasted the white and cold wallpaper and the golden chandelier that hung above the table. The table was set for three, you could smell the scent of roasted vegetables and freshly baked bread, it smelled like heaven. The maid, Joan, lead you your seats, Jane at the head of the table, and you and Victor next to her on either side.
As you took your seats the maid spoke up. “The chef has prepared a Ratatouille with roast lamb with honey, mustard and thyme glaze.”
You had to process that for a moment, you had never had something this fancy in your life. Jane nodded and told Joan to go thank the chef on her behalf. Turn the other two began eating and chatting, you went to take a bite out of the lamb and when you tasted it, it was the best thing you have eaten in your life. Jane looked at you with a smile. “Hope it’s not a problem that we aren’t having dessert, normally I skip it so the chef doesn’t prepare it.”
“It’s fine, this is more than enough.” You said as you swallowed. “Thank you for letting me stay here for the night, ma’am.”
“You are welcome to stay whenever and for as long as you desire my dear.”
—————————
The rest of the dinner was filled with small talk, Victor and Jane asking about your life, job, hobbies, family, and so on. After all this small talk Victor excuse himself, he had loosed up throughout dinner, whether that just relaxing or the wine’s doing you don’t know.
“If you would please excuse me, I have a meeting I need to tend to.” The maid brought his coat as he stood from the table, and he gave a nod to you. “I’ll be escorting you to the Armed Detective Agency tomorrow and then to work, just to make sure you stay safe, Miss (Name). For now I wish you a good evening.”
He left you and Jane alone once more. You retired to your guest room shortly after, which was just as beautiful as the rest of the house. The bed was more comfortable than anything you had ever slept on before. But while you were slipping into sleep, there was a meeting happening between two organizations at the docs.
Stepping out of a black car, old European in design were to figures, one familiar, the other not. It was Victor and a young blond man in a blue suit that matched his eyes. They had pulled up in front of a docked ship, a luxury liner. The two walked up the gangway onto the ship under a watchful eye. Victor leaned over to the blond man and whispered in a nervous tone. “Are you sure about this, Alexandre?”
“No but I am never sure about anything, but I trust Miss Jane.” Alexandre responded in a bit of a nervous tone himself, but never showed it. “If it comes to money or status, just remember you are a self made genius, one of the richest me in Europe and well I’m not doing so badly myself. Just let me lead if you aren’t comfortable to.”
“If you say so.”
The two stepped up onto the deck of the ship where there was a man waiting for them, a blond man in his thirties and dressed up to the nines. The man greats them with a warm smile and extends his hand to the both of them, first Victor then Alexandre. “Mr. Hugo, Count Dumas, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you two.”
“Mr. Fitzgerald, I understand there is something you would like to discuss with our organization.” Alexandre stepped in, immediately knocking down Francis’s warm tone with his stern voice. “I’m afraid we are busy people and do not have all night.”
Fitzgerald’s eyes crinkled at this but he sighed and continued on. I understand, I just hoped Zelda would come instead of you two, old sport.”
Alexandre’s eyes narrowed at him and a scowl grew on his face. “Her name is Miss Jane Austen.”
Victor’s head snapped at Alexandre and quietly reprimanded him with a small “Dumas, calm dow-“
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just hard to get myself out of old habits, to me she is still my wife after all.” Fitzgerald said, cutting off the shy architect. “Now how about some drinks while we discuss some business?”
They were lead into the cruise proper and into a lounge where some sort of cocktail was poured for the three of them that smelled strongly of oranges. Victor and Alexandre sat, tight and ridged, while Fitzgerald sat back, slouched and relaxed. “You two don’t have to be so rigid, I’m not going to bite, especially someone my wife holds dear.”
“Ex-wife.” Alexandre corrects, still sitting rigid, but relaxes a bit at Fitzgerald’s words. “Now what did you wish to discuss?”
Fitzgerald took a long sip from his cocktail before setting it on the side table the separated the two. “Well we all now this conflict is going to get ugly and quickly, I have a proposal. Zel- Miss Jane, comes back to me and I make sure the two organizations left standing after this conflict are The Guild and your little secret society. You’ll have more funding than you could ever dream of and protection from the Armed Detective Agency, the Port Mafia, or anyone else would try to hurt and or exploit you.”
“And if we refuse?” Victor asks, speaking up in he is nervous once for the first time in this conversation. Fitzgerald looks at him with almost a glint in his eye.
“I will personally make sure your society is destroyed and each one of you exploited to the point where you won’t even have a cent to your name.”
At this Alexandre stands up, silently, setting his cocktail on the table with a light thud. He glared down at Fitzgerald with a harsh eye. “I have had everything stripped from me before and I have built it back up within a year from the dirt, I don’t fear your threats and neither does Victor for he is similar to me, and I know Miss Jane certainly does not fear you. So to that, what is it you Americans say… oh yes, bring it.”
With that Alexandre grabbed Victor by the arm and dragged him off the cruise and back to the car, leaving the stunned Fitzgerald with a scowl forming on his face.
“We’ll see about that, Count of Montecristo.”
#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader#yandere bungou stray dogs#yandere bsd#original character x reader#bungou stray dogs oc#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#yandere dazai#yandere chuuya#yandere mark twain#yandere mori ougai#yandere Fukuzawa#Yandere Edgar Allan Poe#Yandere John Steinbeck#yandere fyodor
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whumptober Day 10 (Aaron Hotchner x y/n Hotchner)
No. 10 POOR UNFORTUNATE SOULS
Taser | Whipping | Waterboarding
Alt: tears, whimpering
Warnings: child abuse (straight after the cut), alcoholism, homophobia, f-slur, homophobic parent, internalised homophobia
Word count: 1629
A/N: we’re bending canon a little, Hotch joined the BAU a lot sooner (like 8 or so years before aha hope yall don’t mind, we’ll say after he got his law degree thing, he did a few years of law-ing until aged 24?)
@whumptober-archive
“No, no, no, no, no, I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I s-swear-” Your words are rushed and messy as you say them, scurried back.
"Shut up, boy," Your father slurred. “My son, the faggot,”
You gave a sob, your stomach dropping. You felt like you were going to be sick. You had been cocky and it got you caught. His car wasn’t there, how were you supposed to know he was home? You had kissed your best friend, Michael, after the two of you had decided to test the waters into being more than friends and gone on a date (to see a movie). And he had seen through the blinds.
“I’m sorry, dad, I’m sorry, I swear-” The strike was expected, but still took you by surprise. You didn’t fight back, knowing that there was no point, that he was too fueled by hatred and alcohol to care.
When the hits eventually stopped, you waited, curled up on the floor, waiting for him to leave the room. You heard him wander upstairs, shutting his bedroom door loudly behind him. You drag yourself up, wincing in pain as you do. You climb the stairs slowly, knowing that moving any faster would cause more harm than good. When you enter your room, you shut the door gently behind you.
You limp to your bed, throwing yourself down, whimpering as you did so. You reached blindly under your bed hidden at the bottom of a box of photos is the cellphone Aaron got you, telling you not to tell your father about it. He'd just take it away and right now it was your only link to the outside world. You pause when you’ve got the phone in your hand, letting your emotions flood through you for a moment, sobbing loudly, hand covering your mouth in a desperate attempt to muffle them. When you’ve recovered, you dial Aaron's number, you knew that because of his work he had to keep his phone on at all times.
Aaron’s phone woke him up, turning over with a roll, he saw at the time. 3 AM. His stomach dropped seeing your name flash on his phone. “(Y/N)? What happened?”
“I pissed him off,” Came your pained reply. “I just wanted to hear your voice. Calms me down,”
Aaron gave a sigh at his brother’s words. “I’m coming to get you,”
“I can take it, Aaron,” You mumbled.
“I don’t care. I’m coming to get you,”
“I can take it,”
“(Y/N), I’m doing what I should have done at eighteen,” Aaron said strongly, “I’m picking you up and you are going to live with me and Haley,”
"No, Aaron, it's fine, really, I'm fine,"
"No, (Y/N), it's not. You're not fine either," Aaron said, "Lock you door, pack your things. Don't open the door unless it's me, okay?"
You nodded, mumbling an okay as you walked to the door, locking it. "I've locked the door,"
"Good, now pack everything you can." He said, you heard shuffling, assuming it was him getting out of bed. "I will be there soon, pack as much as you can, we'll come back for the rest."
"Okay," You whispered, "Are you sure this is okay? Haley won't mind?"
You heard Aaron quietly explaining the situation before another voice popped up, "Of course I don't mind, (Y/N)," Haley responded. You relaxed, okay, Haley didn't mind. That was all that mattered. If she didn't mind then it was okay. Everything would be okay.
"How long until you get here?"
"I'll be there in half an hour, okay?"
"Okay,"
“How bad is it?” You paused, wincing in pain. “(Y/N)?”
“I’m fine,” You hear Aaron sigh on the other side of the line.
“(Y/N)-”
“I’m fine.” You don’t mean to snap, but you do.
"Are you going to be okay until I get there?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine."
"(Y/N), come out, come out wherever you are," Your blood ran cold at the slurred voice from the hallway.
"Aaron, please hurry," You whispered.
"I will." You gulped as your father slammed his fist against your door.
"Come on (Y/N)!" He yelled, "Just open the door,"
Ignoring the voice of your father and the pain spread throughout your body (motivated by the time limit Aaron had given you), you looked around your room, gathering your school work from your desk and floor, shoveling it into your school bag. When you had finished with that, you moved on to your clothing. You knew that if push came to shove, Aaron would let you steal some of his clothes if you needed it. You were just hoping you didn't necessarily need to.
You don’t reply, trying your best not to listen to the comments he yells through the door, the threats, taunts, you block them out the best you can as you continue to pack. You’re nearly done, school work all in your backpack and you’ve got the majority of your clothes in another bag.
You hear the front door open and slam shut and you know it’s Aaron. Your father is silent on the other side of the door as Aaron loudly climbs the stairs, letting you know he’s here. Perfect timing, you’ve just finished packing all of your essentials into the bag. You zip it up, clutching it and your backpack in your hands tightly.
“What are you doing here?!” His slurs are more pronounced now and you imagine he’s also swaying on his feet.
“I’m taking (Y/N),” Aaron’s voice is tight and leaves no room for argument.
“You want him? Have him.” Your father snarls. There’s a soft knock on your door.
“(Y/N)?”
“Aaron?” You ask, wanting to make sure it’s him before you open the door.
“Yeah, come on,” He says, you give a small ‘okay’ as you unlock the door. You can tell that Aaron’s trying not to react to the sight of your face, littered with bruises and cuts (some of which are slightly bleeding). “You all packed?”
You nod, holding up the two bag. “Alright,” He says, “I’ll take them, you go sit in the car.” You give him an unsure look but nod and do as he says. As you’re making your way down the stairs, you hear Aaron beginning to talk. “You come near him again, I’ll kill you.”
“Shouldn’t be talking to me like that, boy, I’m your father,"
“You never were a father.” Is his response before he, too, makes his way down the stairs. “Come on, I’m taking you to the emergency room.”
You shake your head, “Aaron, no, I’m fine,” You argue as he places your bags in the boot of his car before the pair of you climb into his car.
“I just want to check, alright?” You huff but nod, knowing he won’t let it drop (and because if Haley finds out you wouldn’t let Aaron take you she’d give you her signature look of disappointment).
You watch the nurses and doctors eye Aaron up with caution at your condition. They think he’s the one who did this to you, you know it and Aaron does too - you watch his hands tense at his side. He hates the idea of people thinking he hurt you. “Are you alright?” You ask softly.
He turns to you, giving you a strange look, “Should I be the one asking you that?”
You grin, giving a small laugh, “You look worse than me,” Aaron laughs and you join in, wincing as you do and concern flashes across Aaron’s face. The nurses and doctors, seeing this realise that he couldn’t have been the one that hurt you.
You’re called in not long after that, into a small room, you sit on the bed, Aaron stood close to your, hand protectively on your shoulder, letting you know that he was here. “I think it would be best if you gave us a minute alone,” The doctor says as she looks at Aaron. Aaron nods, removing his hand from your shoulder.
“Please don’t make him leave,” You whisper, looking at the woman with wide, pleading eyes. “It wasn’t him, please don’t make him go,” She nods and you breathe a sigh of relief.
“Who was it?” She asks, you look at Aaron, unsure whether you should answer.
When Aaron nods, you turn back to her, “My dad,” You say.
“We’re looking into ways to press charges.” Aaron adds.
“What? When did we agree to that?” You ask, looking at him in confusion.
“I meant me and Haley,”
You scoff with a smirk, “Of course, she’s got you wrapped around her finger, you know,” Aaron merely rolls her eyes.
Severe bruising, bruised ribs, and a mild concussion. But otherwise you’re fine. You’re still sat on the bed, Aaron sat next to you, waiting for the discharge forms.
“What set him off?”
“I-” Aaron’s heart broke as your voice cracked and you took in a shaky breath. He knew that you were unsure whether or not to actually tell him what had happened.
Aaron gently rubbed circles on your back, “Hey, I’m not leaving - not again. I’m your brother, through thick and thin,” He soothed, “Nothing will push me away, okay?”
You nodded, “He saw me kissing Michael.” Aaron wiped the tear that had fallen, carefully guiding your head to his chest.
“It’s okay,” He whispered, you gave a sob. “It’s alright, I promise. I won’t let anything bad happen to you again.”
“I- I tried not to like him, I promise, Aaron I promise,”
“Hey, (Y/N), I need you to listen to me,” Aaron paused, waiting for you to nod. When you do, he continues, “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter who you like as long as you both treat each other right, that’s all that matters.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
#whumptober 2022#no. 10#alt: tears#alt:whimpering#criminal minds#fic#child abuse#alcoholism#homophobia#internalised homophobia#f-slur#slur#gay slur#homophobic parents#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x brother reader#male reader#brother reader#(y/n) hotchner#aaron hotchner x y/n hotchner#y/n hotchner
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dirty Laundry
Pairing: Oikawa Toru x Reader
Word Count: ~0.6k
Genre: Angst
Warnings: crying, healing from a breakup
Summary: You returned my shirts to my mailbox fresh and clean. I don’t know if you did so to be nice or to be mean. To be a good guy, give back what’s mine, fold my dirty laundry or with your detergent wash my clothes and your hands of me.
Part Five of Desiderium
A/N: If dialogue is in blue, this is irl something that was said to me or by me. Thank you for being here live for my therapy.
PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS AND THE AUTHORS NOTE ON THE MASTERLIST ON MY BLOG BEFORE READING
Swapping things like jackets became commonplace between Toru and I while we were dating. I never wore the right size jackets so he tended to leave me with his and steal mine in their place. A constant swap. I never was lacking a jacket that smelt like him.
He made me a promise, early in the relationship when he realized that I found comfort in the way he smelled, when he noticed how no matter how stressed I was, I would feel better when I buried my face into his chest and inhaled deeply, finding myself surrounded with him. He made me a promise to always have a jacket of his, no matter what. To have a shirt of his to sleep in. As long as he could steal a jacket of mine in return.
It was like that until the end. Like how it was now. Two weeks later. Crashing in a friend’s spare room. And staring at the small box in front of me. He’d left it on our friend’s doorstep for me to find. A few items of clothing that had gotten mixed into his in the move. One week after I’d seen him last. A jacket of mine laid neat on top.
I glanced over at the jacket of his in my closet, the white fabric burning my eyes from its spot there. He’d let me keep that one too. And the shirt of his that I used to sleep in the most.
I’d already packed all of my jackets by the time he’d broken up with me. The day after, I sat staring at the vacuum-sealed bag with the pile of my jackets stuffed inside of it. It was going to be cold soon and I’d made a conscious thought the day before to pack all of my jackets, assuring myself that I’d be able to just use one of his for a week or so until I could unpack mine in a new apartment.
He’d walked into our room quietly, trying to not disturb me more than he had already. Watched me glare at the jackets, building up the energy to open it, unseal the bag and dig out the one I wanted before doing it again. It was like he could read my mind. I always hated that about him. He knew more about me than anyone else. More than even I did sometimes.
“You were going to use one of mine. Right?” I winced at the implication that I’d assumed that I would be able to.
“I’m just building up the energy. It’s okay.” My voice was quiet. Scratchy from the crying, the sobbing and begging and screaming. I winced at the sound of it.
“You can still use one.” He sighed and walked over to a box of his things. “Here.” He opened the box and revealed the contents to be his jackets. “Pick one to have.”
I was hit with another wave of sadness that I couldn’t quite explain. “I can’t.” I shook my head and tried to keep myself from crying. I didn’t need to force him to give me something of his.
He sighed and dug around for a little bit. The white sleeve he tugged on revealed the rest of the hoodie easily. “Here, take this one.” He piled the fabric into my arms and I couldn’t help the hurt that panged through me. He meant it to be nice. A comfort. But the fabric wouldn’t even smell like him, he- “I never wear it anyways so you can keep it.” I knew that fact, which is why the sinking feeling was in my stomach.
It was backhanded assistance. The help that hurt the most. I would rather freeze.
The box I was staring at now had the same effect. A box with things of mine that had been caught up in his things. Some of my clothes. Washed. I didn’t know if he was trying to be nice, to be the good guy and give back what was mine. Fresh and clean and folded. Washed with the last of the detergent I’d had. None of it even smelt like him. Not even like his detergent.
I knew he meant it to be nice. But it felt mean.
It was all me. Like he left no trace of himself.
Like he wanted to wash his hands of me.
A/N: free therapy yk…
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
New house/ Vinnie Hacker x reader
Summary: you leave the hype house. You are very sad about it and Vinnie and Jack try to cheer you up
Words: 868
Warnings: fluff
-------------------------------------------------------
You and Vinnie lived together in the Hype house. Together, that is Vinnie you and your mutual best friend Jack Wright, have decided to leave the Hype house and move into your own house together.
You have been packing your stuff all week and moving it to the new house. Today you just packed up the last of your stuff and put it in Vinnie's car.
Saying goodbye is especially hard for you because you have found many new friends in the Hype house.
You hug everyone while a few tears run down your cheek.
-----------------‐--------------------------
You drop into the seat next to Vinnie. You raise your hand to wipe away your tears as Vinnie closes his hand around your chin and turns your face in his direction.
"Babe, it's not goodbye forever. You'll see them again soon." He says and wipes away your tears with his thumb.
"I know. But now I don't have them around all the time." You sob once and want to turn your head forward.
But Vinnie doesn't let go of your chin, so you try to turn in vain.
As you start to cry slightly again, Vinnie pulls you into a hug. "Y/N it's going to be alright..." he says and presses you against his chest as good as he can in a car.
Now you really start to cry. Vinnie strokes the back of your head with one hand and your back with the other.
"Everything will be all right," he whispers again. You nod and abruptly move away from his arms.
"If we go on like this, we'll never get out of here." You say and stubbornly look straight down the driveway of the Hype house.
In the corner of your eye you see Vinnie nod. Already you're driving off. Not wanting to start crying again, you don't look back.
------------------------------
Vinnie and you got out of the car. Vinnie tucked the one box you had with you under his arm and grabbed your hand.
As soon as Vinnie lifted the box, Jack sprinted out of the house. Excited like a young dog, he immediately started jumping around you. Because he is so excited he can't stop talking.
"Finally you are here. It looks so good here. I'm glad we're doing this together."
Vinnie interrupts him. "Jack, please slow down a bit and calm down. Y/N just had a hard time." He turns his head a little more towards him and whispers softly: "She cried when we said goodbye."
You pretend not to notice him whispering the previous event to Jack. Jack immediately takes pity on you and comes to your side.
His arm lands on your shoulder. He makes you stop. Vinnie wants to keep walking and continues to hold your hand. Only then does he notice that you have stopped and turns around.
Jack pulls you into a hug. "My little Y/N. You don't have to be sad. After all, you still have me." He pulls away from you again slightly. His hands on your shoulders.
You look at Jack with big watery eyes. A deep throat clearing sounds. "And Vinnie, too, of course." He hangs on and pulls you back into a hug.
"But of course I know that inside you like me more than you like him." Jack whispers in your ear. "You're absolutely right." You whisper back and laugh.
Vinnie looks at you questioningly. "What did he say Y/N?" His eyes turn to Jack. "Are you trying to steal Y/N from me again?"
Jack raises his hands and walks a bit away from you. "No, of course not." Then he whispers so that only you can hear: "Not yet today." And winks at you.
"Jack! What did you say to Y/N now?" You laugh, Vinnie starts up and sprints towards Jack. Jack realizes too late that he is in danger and Vinnie is already on Jack's back.
He tries to pull Jack to the ground. But Jack resists and tries to get you to help him.
"Y/N tell your boyfriend to stop behaving like a child!" "You're acting like a child!" protests the latter.
You just stand there laughing. "Boys, you are both acting like children. Stop it. We still have to unpack."
Vinnie slowly slides off Jack's back. He comes right up to you and takes your hand. He pretends Jack isn't there and pulls you along toward the house.
Jack comes running up beside you. "I'm so grateful to have you. Really, thank you." You say, pulling Vinnie to you and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Jack holds out his cheek too. "Do I get a kiss, too?" He asks wryly.
"No, you don't. This is still my girlfriend. Not yours." Says Vinnie possessively.
You smile and hold out your free hand to Jack. "No. But we can hold hands." Jack doesn't ask twice and immediately takes your small hand in his hand. Vinnie casts an envious glance at it. But says nothing.
You turn your head to him and say: "I love only you" and give him a kiss on the bicep.
Together, the three of you walk hand in hand to your new home.
#vinnie hacker imagine#vinnie#vinnie hacker x you#vinnie hacker x reader#vinnie hacker one shot#vinnie hacker#vinnie hacker x y/n
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
afterglow (teaser) | b.b
summary: your dad is getting called back to top gun, aka where bradley is. you haven’t seen him since before you left to live with your dad in san francisco. and he still looks the same, except for the mustache and the sunkissed tan, curtesy of the navy.
pairing: bradley bradshawn x mitchell!reader
warnings: sadness. just overall sadness. teaser for the new series ‘afterglow’
wc: 782
masterlist | next | listen
you laughed, throwing your head back as his hands moved against your sides, fingers tickling your most ticklish spot.
“bradley! stop!” you giggled and you could hear him laughing as he hovered over you. the two of you had been friends for years, being best friends until becoming something more when he finally had the guts to ask you out on a date your senior year of high school. the two of you had your plans all figured out,he would join the navy and you would go to the nearby college that had offered you scholarships.
but your plan had shifted a couple weeks ago when your dad mentioned something about them moving him to the mojave desert with new orders. so, instead, you would be taking online classes and moving with him. you had told bradley about you moving a week or so ago, the two of you promising that you’d both figure it out after a few shared tears.
you sighed as he moved his hands, letting you take a break from all the tickling.
“whats running through that pretty head of yours?” he asked, laying down next to you. he had his head propped up on his hand, looking over at you.
“just thinking about how much i really don’t want to leave tomorrow.”
his small smile faded as you brushed hair out of your face. he opened his arms and you moved into them. you leaned your head against his chest as his face nuzzled into your hair.
“it’ll be okay, i promise.”
that night, he slept over to help ease your nerves and to help you and your dad pack everything into the car in the morning. the moving truck had come for most of the things the day before, taking everything you couldn't fit in the u haul trailer and in your car. you didn’t sleep, staring up at the ceiling and tracing circles into his skin as he slept next to you.
and in the morning you were a wreck all over again, the sun setting as you loaded up the last of your things in the car.
“we’re hitting the road in a couple minutes.” you dad said, sending an apologetic smile your way as you watched bradley pack his things into the bronco. you nodded softly, your stomach doing flips at the fact that you didn’t know when the next time you’d see bradley would be.
he walked over to you, hands in his pockets as he held a small box in his hands. you gave him a confused look,”whatcha got, bradshaw?”
“a little goodbye gift,” he smiled,”i figured it would be a way for you to never forget about me.”
you laughed softly,”bradley, you didn’t have to.”
“but i wanted to, now shush and open the box.” he chuckled and you playfully rolled your eyes as you took the box into your hands. you opened it carefully, your eyes filling up with tears as you looked down at the heart shaped locket.
“b, i-”
“look whats inside.”
you opened the small door of the locket, inside sitting the picture of the two of you from your graduation. you felt the tears fall from your eyes and slide down your cheeks.
“i love it.” you said softly. he grabbed the box from your hands gently, taking the necklace out to help you put it on.
“this way, no matter where you go, you always have a piece of me. even if we aren’t together.”
you felt your heart slowly breaking as you met his eyes again.
“as if i could ever forget you.”
“you better not.”
you smiled softly, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck as his found a place around your waist. you sobbed silently into his shoulder as he stroked your hair.
“i love you.”
it was the first time either one of you had said those three words. and hearing them come from his mouth made you not want to leave even more.
“i love you, too, bradley.”
your dad sent you an apologetic look before speaking,”time to go, kiddo.”
you nodded as you pulled away from bradley’s warm embrace. your dad gave bradley a hug, wishing him luck with the navy before getting into the car.
“i'll call you when we get there, okay?” you more for yourself but he nodded, nonetheless.
you leaned in and gave him one last kiss, mentally cursing the navy for changing your father’s orders.
and after saying your final goodbye and reversing out of the driveway, you let more tears fall, watching bradley stand in the road as he watched you drive down the street.
--
add yourself to my tagged list here
tagged:
@t0msleftnut @jackiehollanderr @tomshufflepuff @behxndthemask@tsukishiromiki@i-love-superhero@scorpiostunner1027 @queensholland @lostamongstthecosmos@feeling-straange @lauren2408 @lovesick-valkyrie @kaitlynthehuman @wh3n-1t-ra1ns-1t-p0urs @cutehollands @zpidey-sense @maggie-starz @heyrogers @peterparkeroos @stephie-senpai @lol-you-thought @cutie1365@gentlethunderstorm @avengersgirllorianna@hista-girl @casualprincess77@keithseabrook27 @tomhollandsmouthfr0g@wtfholland @dark-night-sky-99 @wowitstonystark @no-aaaahhhh @sskidizzle @sholla4-314 @maggiepalma @awshucks-ace @httpmcrvel @peterparkers-waffles @casuallifexcreativesoul @shaykeijser @chennyetomlinson @pvnk-bivch @iaiabear @spidey-pal @lovelyh0lland @spicygrethan @woah-jess @embrace-themagic @annahollanddd @savethebabyseals @sighspidey @spideyyypeter @yourwonderbelle @ravynnn-12 @nichu @valkyries-bi @superserumstark @iamgabriellelambert @utsoftie @laureharrier @mischiefmanaged49 @paradoxparker @sdrecsfics @solarspidey @randomfandom3599 @quicksoldier @notunlimited @smexylemony @captainbuckyy @ashely313-blog @tom-hollands-eyelash @slytherinholland @tomsobriens @delicately-written @kiggys-newblog @peterbxrnes@alexindahouse @aoonai @babylsn @musicgirl234 @tomhollandandmarvelsworld @shortieminn @lushparkers @sweetenedangeltears @gopnista @jackiehollanderr @purple-ash27@tomsmelanin@tsukimi-ackerman @the-queen-procrastinator@estillion14@awkwardfangirl2014@mcuspidey@gorl-d @xitzbrookiex@playbucky @luutaku@kathykat243 @slytherinrising@luckyplums1@wekindadepressed @summernykole@fairydustparker@osterfieldholland01 @zaynjawy @satan-of-fandoms018@vintageroses1014516 @novaddictx @peek-a-boo-boo-boo@134340-cm@missmulti @melaerica@chennyetomlinson @shotgun-shot-to-the-heart@itsallaboutmeritenow @thequeensardine@nedthegay@exoticxstyles@avngrsinitiative @aweways @spidey-waffles11@xinyourdreamsx@wronglanemendes@sholla4-314@aussie-mantle@chubsluda @tommiboiholland @ariesirwin@rageyoudamnednerd@loveforyouwasbulletproof@stargazerholland@applenter@untainted-memories@pxterbpxrker@sunsetspidey @zoellajulien@irishfangirlxx @peteunderoos@t0mh0llandimagines@newestro@silktoyourspidey@youllbemineandillbeyours@lovcyou3000@theshortegg@peachyinparis@emmatrashforfandoms @jedi-dreea @ @cokenooodles@ttaecrackers @sleepy-zzz @annathesillyfriend@24kcalum@xjes@jemalovesfamdoms @trashparker @maggiekelly51 @alina-margaret@thedoctorselder @kingccbsblog @1-800-hamiltrash @afriendlypotatoe@spookyanairwin @qxeen-of-hearts @zabdisamor@heartbeats-wildly@funs1z3d @miraclesoflove @qrangr @parkerstylesperalta @the-puff-is-strong-with-this-one @natashassniper @let-me-luve-you @jubaydahk@multifandomgirl-us @maybemona @newsienewsie @ghostspf @tomshollandz @targaryenvoids @multi-worlds @rechema @h-oneyholland@captainbuckyy @ixchel-9275 @itseightbeats @growingthornz @rororo06@betcoop @theimpossiblehologramtree@relise-thefury @ixchel-9275@itseightbeats @spidcrparkrr @mrskitchenboy @emistrash @xxi-king@sotottalygamer @joonmail @bloomingarianda @starks-parker @corbone-besson @moonbearmeliox @peteunderoos @rin-e @httpsmoony @eternallyvenus @peter-parker-reblogs-v3 @tiny-friggin-human @staarjisung @spookyspookies @lostinspidey @tryn25 @parkerslutz @ethansnestors @tutuabby28 @hollandraul @averyfosterthoughts @soincredible @practicallylivesonline @tom-hollands-wife @zhangyixingxing1 @summergoldenrze @spideynico @geminiparkers @rumplebutterbaby @am3l1a-24 @lmaotshollandd @eridanuswave @teenwishes08 @emistrash @tomshufflepuff @zendayamybabe @parkerpeterparker2004 @zenzedana @nocturnalms @parrishkehlani @brown-eyed-doe @darling-im-moonstruck @selluequestrian @tom-softie @asyamonet22 @peterparkoure @gabicalicota @martinaityte
#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#top gun#top gun maverick#miles teller#miles teller x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#rooster imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#top gun maverick imagine
297 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dokidobe
yellow.dr.monv
zaana
Zaana's Art
pyrohonk
Pyrohonk
tick-tick-tick-boome
cHeRRyBoMb
girlwikipedia
a gift from a flower to a garden