Tumgik
#they are best friends and its unfair to the BOTH of them
angladeofthesea · 8 months
Text
.
#did a big scary thing and vocalized that i was a little hurt by certain responses to some personal stuff i shared and#expressed what kind of things i really appreciate hearing when im struggling like 'what do you need rn' 'that must be hard - how r u doing?'#i feel so scared and selfish and immature bringing up this stuff bc i KNOW they dont like feeling like their interactions are#scripted when it comes to ppl they feel safe around... but also i know that any friend should care if they were to find out#the way they respond or support friends is actually hurting them bc i have literally been told that myself and my response was like oh no im#so sorry thank you for coming to me with this!#and luckily so was theirs :')#not in those words bc thats not how they talk lol#but they are willing to try for me bc they know it's important to me#even if it does feel a little scripted#i literally had to reread our messages this morning to make sure i didnt do something evil and cruel bc i was panicking again that i#was cruel and unfair to them#i literally Was Not At All#and their response was genuine even if a bit confused and frustrated#(confused abt how they can help me before i elaborated and frustrated bc it sucks not knowing how to be there for ppl u care abt the way#that they need)#sometimes i feel like a burden for needing certain kinds of emotional reassurances esp when they dont rlly need it like i do#so it makes me feel better knowing its actually frustrating for them when they find out theyre not giving me the kind of support i need#like ok... ok we are both learning and are both people who care abt each other trying our best#anyway. sniffles a little#proud of myself#and so grateful bc the last few partner-like ppl i came to with my needs like this#either talked abt how guilty they felt but never made any actual change or outright gaslit me into thinking im fucked up for being hurt or#having emotional needs#ang.txt
1 note · View note
ethereal-night-fairy · 3 months
Text
Mistletoe Kisses
This is part 3 of this drabble part 2 is here.
It's Christmas day and the boys are acting even weirder than usual. And coincidentally all the mistletoe you placed has been moved. Your in for an eventful day.
Poly!141 x GN reader
Words: 3.6k
Sleepy - pre poly ask
Masterlist
Warnings: Kissing, suggestive language, flirting, pining, stealing kisses, slight hint of BDSM. Sorry if I missed any
You wake up at 5:30am a little later than usual since it was everyone's day off. You dress in your gym gear, ready to get some cardio and weights in for the day. You'll have so many calories to burn after the Christmas dinner your going to have.
You walk into the gym to find it empty. No surprise there. It was Christmas who wanted to exercise on Christmas. Majority of people were probably in the common room opening and exchanging presents. Or calling their loved ones. Saying sweet words to spouses and children. You might do the same, give a few friends a call later on to wish them well.
You settle in your usual gym spot and begin your stretching routine. You only get about halfway through when you hear the gym door bang and clatter like it was being pushed and pulled with aggression. You watch through the glass door as Gaz and Soap fight each to get through first. You laugh at the absurdity as you call out to them.
“Didn't know the gym was in such high demand on Christmas day!”, you laugh at them, finally squeezing through together. What you failed to notice was that Price and Ghost had used the other entrance to sneak up behind you as you laughed. It was too late by the time you noticed.
“Not the gym luvie, just you”, you felt a shiver run down your spine as a hand snaked its way around your waist preventing you from escaping. You twist your body to find Ghost right behind you with his arm on your hips now. It's when you look up that you notice the mistletoe right above your workout place. The dots click in your head but not soon enough. You feel the kiss on your forehead before you can move away. The second kiss comes from Price on your cheek as you move away from the mistletoe a second later.
“You sneaky bastards”, you laugh with mirth. They finally caught you. You look up again at the mistletoe a few feet away as Gaz and Soap approach clearly vexed by the situation. Price gives them both a smug look as he goes about getting ready for his workout. Ghost was already on the weights.
“That's so unfair!”, Gaz exclaims.
“You think it's unfair, it was my idea to put the mistletoe there”, Soap grumbles as they all go to their respective places.
“You guys are so silly, all this effort for a kiss?”, you look at the high ceiling where the mistletoe was taped. It must have taken a while to figure out how to get up there. You shake your head as you get back to your work out. If you think this was a one time occurrence you were sorely mistaken.
You enter the mess hall to find it full and go over to your usual sitting place once you had gotten your plate of food waiting for the guys to show up after their showers. You watch them enter and Gaz immediately makes a beeline for you with Soap closely behind. Your confused until you look above your head to find a string and mistletoe hanging about a metre above. You quickly try to change seats but Gaz was right in front of you when you stood up. He gives you his best disarming full canine smile before placing a kiss on your nose and hauling you in his arms away from the mistletoe so Soap couldn't get a kiss. Causing him to curse in frustration.
“What's gotten into you all..”, you eye them suspiciously. “You guys have another bet going on don't you?.....you do, don't you?”, you give Soap a questioning look as he looks away sheepishly. Gaz puts you down not before snuggling into the side of your neck saying he'll be back in a sec. You watch them both leave to get in line for breakfast, not answering your question. You pick another seat away from the mistletoe as you watch Price and Ghost approach with their plates. You all eat normally as if the events of the morning hadn't happened. You really were going to let it all slide since you thought this was the end of it but that was far from the truth. You'd find that out soon later.
Though today was everyone's day off, you still preferred being organized. You did dip into the common room to wish everyone a Happy Christmas before going about doing little tasks. You spent the rest of the morning being preyed upon by your teammates. Whether you were going into the Price office to collect something or grabbing something from your locker you were always met with someone stealing kisses from you. You had gotten too comfortable with the placement of the mistletoe that you hadn't realised they had moved them. You've lost count with how many kisses they've stolen from you. Except for Soap that is. He was always interrupted in his early attempts with the others sabotaging his chances. And by then you had caught on to their little game and started surveying your surroundings. A cute little game of cat and mouse. The only fragment of peace you got was when you went into your room to call a few friends or went into the bathroom. But you couldn't hide there all day; you had things to do. Your friends laughed at your predicament and told you ridiculous theories they had about your teammates. You ended up laughing off their jokes. There's no way….right? Right? Why would they be interested in you?
You shake your head as you grab the festive apron you had just bought not long ago. It was mid day and Price had said he'll help you with the dinner prep. You still needed to make dessert as well so you scurried off to the kitchen while keeping an eye out for mistletoe. You arrived to find the kitchen empty. The dinner for the rest of the troops was going to be delivered by a restaurant this year around. But you wanted to do something special for your boys. You walk to the fridge while trying to put your apron on. As you're doing so, you feel warm calloused hands engulf your own taking the ties of your apron from you. You let go startled, feeling a very familiar beard brush up against the shell of your ear.
“Captain..?”, you let out breathlessly.
“Aren't you a pretty little thing working so hard to make your boys dinner.” His hot breath fans the side of your face causing goosebumps to raise on the skin of your neck as he ties your apron behind you with careful and precise movements. His touch leaving behind a burning trail of heat. Air gets stuck in your throat as you go to turn around. You're trapped between the counter and Price's toned body. His eyes look hungry and it doesn't seem like the hunger is for food. His blue orbs roam your body up and down as you stand there frozen. You watch his hand reach up above your head to open the cabinet behind you. As he does so your eyes look up to find mistletoe taped to the inside of the wood. Directly above your head. How convenient. You let out a laugh. You wondered why they were trying so hard to win this bet you knew nothing about.
You brace yourself for another kiss to the forehead or possibly a cheek or even your nose. But he has a mischievous glint in his eyes as his gaze dips down to your lips making your heart pound knocking against your ribcage. It felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at this rate. His eyes flicker to your eyes before dipping back down to your lips. He's never looked at you with so much want and desire before. You don't know where to run or hide but it felt like he was stripping you with his gaze alone. Ever so slowly you watch him lean down to bring his lips closer as if he wasn't sure if you'd allow his advances. When he doesn't get a rejection response from you his mouth comes closer as you stand there questioning every lingering touch and flirty joke you've been on the receiving end of.
Your eyes flutter shut as his nose brushes against yours. His warm minty breath fanning your face. You hold the air within your lungs awaiting the prickle of his beard and the soft touch of his tender lips….
“Oi!!”, your eyes fly open your head immediately turning to the door of the kitchen like you've been caught red handed. Even though it wasn't you that did anything.
You find Soap standing in the doorframe with his arms crossed.
“The rules were no kissing on the lips Captain”, Soap walks in clearly annoyed. As the captain grumbles something you take the chance to slip past Price to go towards the fridge again fanning your face.
OMG YOU WERE ABOUT TO LET YOUR CAPTAIN…YOUR CAPTAIN KISS YOU ON THE LIPS. There must be something seriously wrong with you. You don't engage with the bickering that was happening as you got the meat out to sear. Trying desperately to get that almost kiss out of your mind.
You don't get that luxury though as Ghost and Gaz walk in to find their captain and sergeant getting into a heated argument. Which ended with Johnny snitching on Price. Both Simon and Kyle started arguing too, saying ‘its against the rules’ and ‘its unfair to everyone else who's waiting’. You had no idea what they were going on about and you didn't have the mental capacity to try to figure it out. You just wanted to cook dinner in peace.
“Can you all please go argue somewhere else, I have dinner to make”, you raise your voice to get their attention. They all look down to floor or somewhere on the walls acting like they were schoolboys being scolded by a teacher.
“Sorry luv…didn't come all the way here to disturb you.” Simon is the first to move to take the ingredients off your hands as he sets them on the counter. He gets you settled on a stool beside the counter telling you to rest, that they'll take care of the dinner from here.
“What am I supposed to do then?” You watch as they put aside their feelings and get working together to prep whatever is needed for dinner.
“Just relax you've already done so much”, Gaz pats your head as he passes you by to gather something from the pantry.
“If ye really want tae do somethin’ ye can help me decorate these Christmas cookies”, Soap brings out a tray cookies from their hiding spot. You wonder when he made them considering how busy everyone was yesterday. He grabs a cookie decorating kit from a cupboard dropping the icing tubs on the large counter opposite to the stove where Simon is searing the roast. Soap gently grabs your stool pulling your weight with ease to his side.
The cookies are slightly burnt and lopsided but you could tell Soap had tried his best. You begin piping the icing on the odd shapes while sneakily eating bits that break off with Soap swatting at you from time to time. It was a nice atmosphere where everyone worked together. You catch your eyes drifting to your captain every time he brushes past you. Watching him roll up his sleeves had your mouth going dry. He definitely caught you ogling because he had a smug look on his face every time you two made eye contact. You could tell the others weren't happy about your reaction to Price after he had almost kissed you on the lips. By the looks of it. Price may be winning the bet they had created. Surprisingly no one tried sneaking a kiss from you again.
The next few hours go by without a hitch and by the evening the table was set and you all were enjoying dinner. You crack Christmas crackers between eachother. You laugh as Gaz grabs all the paper hats refusing to share any with Soap. You watch as he struggles to keep them all on his head while eating his dinner. And Price sneaking a few off when he wasn't looking. You didn't end up winning any of the little prizes but Ghost gifts you all the items he wins placing them in a pile beside your dinner plate. It was very lovely dinner. It had your heart feeling all warm and fuzzy. Like you had a family here away from home.
You could see Soap grumbling toward the end when everyone was having dessert. He still hadn't got a kiss from you yet and you could tell it was bothering him. So as you all make your way to Price's office to open presents and have a glass of some well deserved expensive alcohol you keep your eyes peeled for some mistletoe. For different reasons this time.
You spot one hidden in the corner of the hallway, not thinking you slow down your steps to match Soap as everyone walks ahead. He gives you a questioning look as you stop and so does he. You gently push him towards the corner. He's so confused you end up laughing at his odd expressions. He goes to open his mouth but before he could say anything you place the first kiss on his forehead, the next on his two cheeks, then his nose. By this point everyone else has turned to face you two. You place another kiss on his nose. As he gives you his broadest smile. You watch Soap fistbump the air, as you laugh at his reaction to you kissing him.
“One more for the win, please! One more for the win!”, he practically begs you. You think about it for a moment as you eye everyone else. You see the playful jealousy in their eyes. Gaz and Ghost make a run for it to get you away from the mistletoe to stop Soap from winning the bet between them.
“Don’t!”, Both Gaz and Ghost shout at you. But it's too late. Your lips are already grazing Soaps' jawline with a smile on your face.
“Fuck yeah!! That means I win the bet!”, Soap practically crushes you in a hug as he hauls you away from the mistletoe so neither Gaz or Ghost could steal a final kiss from you. He places you beside the captain as he runs away from Gaz and Ghost who are chasing him to the office.
Your laughter is cut short as you feel very familiar lips on your ear.
“Such a naughty sergeant, you'll be punished for taking my win away from me”, you gasp as Price growls low in your ear. You don't get much time to think because as quick as he came he also left you standing there as he followed the boys.
Every nerve endings was set alight as you entered the office to find things relatively calm. Apart from Soap brandishing a very triumphant look and boasting about his win.
Your eyes meet Prices, he has such a devilish smirk on his face. Like he's about to pounce on you any second now. He probably would have if he wasn't interrupted in the kitchen. You turn away immediately not being able to hold his heated gaze. Preferring to look at the decorated office instead. Price sat on his plush chair as everyone else found a place to settle in his office. You decide to walk over to where Gaz is seated to squeeze in beside him. He places an arm around you immediately bringing you closer to his side complaining as to why you had to go make Soap win. Ghost goes around handing everyone their respective gifts. Before settling beside Soap.
You watch everyone open their gifts with excitement. There were thank you and kisses exchanged between them. You're a little more aware than usual. A little more alert after Price's last comment. You still couldn't get that almost kiss out of your head. You watch as they hug and kiss each. It didn't seem so friendly to you anymore. It didn't seem like friends having a laugh. They were like kisses exchanged between lovers. You watch them more closely as everything clicks into place.
They were…. together…like… all four of them. They were in a relationship. But now that had you questioning every encounter with the four men. On when and how they would flirt with you. How their hands always found themselves on your body somehow. How they would find any excuse to get rid of people hitting on you. Were they flirty like that with everyone? No…you knew they weren't. So why you?
Your brought out of you deep thoughts as Gaz crushes you with a embrace so tight you think he might be trying to crack your bones but he lets go just as quickly to get up and remove his shirt. You look at him shocked only to realise he was putting on the jumper you had made him. You cringe at your awful knitting but Gaz doesn't seem to notice at all. Showing it off to everyone in the room that you had gifted him a handmade jumper. You glance around the room to see slight jealousy at the handmade gift but that's quickly replaced by thank you as they open their own presents. Soap particularly happy with his Scottish flag scotch glass.
You don't realise until everyone is looking at you that you haven't open the nicely wrapped box sitting in your lap. You make eye contact with Price to find his eyes to have softened compared to before. You work your hand on the wrapping paper making sure to open it with care. The small black leather box sits in your palm. You glance at them one last time before opening the box to find a ring…well not a ring exactly…it was on a necklace so a pendant. You smile thanking them for their gift as you remove the chain from the box…
Price gives Soap a knowing look. As Gaz hugs Ghost's shoulders from behind his chair. You're about to put the necklace on but Soaps hand stops you midway placing the necklace back in its box. You look at him confused before silently asking for an explanation for his actions as he kneels before you.
“Since ah won the bet, the honour was given tae me tae ask ye this question. Would...ye consider…being ours?”, he looks at you with so much adoration.
“Being yours…?”, you look at all of them and they all held the same look in their eyes. “But you have each other…you don't need…you shouldn't..want…me”, you watch his face fall slightly at your words before recovering.
“But I do…we all do…we can't help thinking about ye when ye're away. Can't help getting jealous when someone flirts with ye. Can't help want tae be close tae ye all the time…We can take things slow…”, he looks at you for your reaction. But you're deep in thought fidgeting with the ring on the chain.
“It doesn't have tae be all at once. Ye can get used tae the idea”, he looks at you hopefully as you glance at everyone else. Your eyes lock on Price who also looks at you longingly.
“So I'll be…dating? All of you?”, you watch them all nod in eagerness. “And you're all dating each other too..??”, they all nod again confirming their relationship status. You watch them hold their breaths as you decide on your answer.
“That explains all the touchiness”, you laugh as you play with the ring on the chain. On closer inspection you see engravings on the inner band. You bring it closer to your eyes to see the initials of the four men neatly engraved on the inside. It made your heart melt. They seemed serious in wanting to be with you. It explains all the flirting and tender touches. Soap watches you carefully, still kneeling at your feet waiting for an answer.
“It's a bit overwhelming….to be with four men... all at once…but I-I....really like you all…I'd like to see..where this goes…”, you feel heat rise to your neck and cheeks when the words leave your mouth.
Not a second later Soap has you in his arms peppering your lips and face in small kisses and thank yous. Gaz and Ghost come up to you immediately as well taking the chance to hold you close to their chests. You return their warm embraces with eagerness of your own. Ghost helps you place the necklace around your neck as they all take chances to kiss you gently trying their best not to overwhelm you as you laugh from joy.
Price stays in his chair watching everything unfold. He has adoration written all over his face but there's also the underlying lust and desire you felt in the kitchen and then again in the hallway.
“Well now that's settled…come here love. Over my knee…A naughty sergeant like you needs to be punished for taking sides.”
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2023. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or use with AI technologies.
850 notes · View notes
tiannasfanfic · 1 year
Text
Conviction
Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)
Tumblr media
| Masterlist | AO3 Link |
Summary: Life takes an unexpected turn when a one time fling with your best friend leads to an unplanned pregnancy. Will years of friendship be enough to build a solid marriage off of...or are you destined for heartbreak due to a wandering eye like the town rumor mill predicts?
Rating: Explicit 18+
Author Note: Afab Reader, no pronouns used. Angst with a happy ending.
CW: Town gossip; bullying; unplanned pregnancy (no details); marriage; mentions of cheating; mentions of alcohol use; smut (p in v, fingering, kissing, dirty talk); consensual role play of a non-con situation.
Word Count: 8,332
Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore
Tumblr media
con·vic·tion - noun: a firmly held belief or opinion.
If you were to ask the people in Hawkins, life for you and Eddie Munson turned out exactly how they expected.
Eddie was branded an outcast while he was a child thanks to his dad. Edward Munson Sr had long been known in Hawkins as a hard-working criminal. Your car was stolen? The cops always checked out Munson’s place first. While no one blamed Eddie for his father’s mistakes, no one really wanted their kids to be around the son of a no-good common criminal either. It honestly surprised no one when Ed was finally put away for a long time due to car theft, which led to his parental rights being transferred to Wayne.
But despite Eddie going into his uncle’s care, the unfair reputation he’d gained during childhood followed along after him. He wasn’t a bad kid, by any means, nor did he get in much trouble. But once the town thinks of someone a certain way, it’s hard for them to break free of that. And, by this point, he’d taken a liking to heavy metal and playing the guitar, which further cemented his outcast status in their minds. Then his interest in fantasy led him to D&D, which led to the rumors of Satan worshiping. He evolved from being seen as just a mere outcast into a full-blown freak by the time he hit high school.
You, on the other hand, managed to fly under the towns radar for quite some time. While the two of you met the year before middle school and became fast friends, people only began to notice how your close friendship was during sophomore year. That’s when a spotlight finally found its way over to you. The rumor mill went absolutely crazy. Even though you weren’t dating Eddie, and this was a known fact, that didn’t really matter to anyone. You got labeled as his and the bullying began almost immediately.
After a while, Eddie tried to save you by severing the friendship, and made a big production of it in the cafeteria, much to your horror. But the damage had already been done. The teasing only got worse when people thought he’d grown tired of you. You weren’t even good enough for the freak, they said. It ended up being a miserable two months for both of you before you finally reconciled your friendship. Fortunately, the whole thing brought you two even closer together afterwards.
After that, the town knew exactly what was going to happen to you two. They predicted Eddie would have you knocked up before senior year and that you’d drop out of school. They seemed split on what would happen after that though. Some said Eddie would run off right away and leave you a single mom. Others said he would stay but would cheat and run off on you later, leaving you a single mom. They were quite surprised when you graduated high school without a baby in tow.
Since people in town didn’t expect Eddie to amount to anything, it surprised no one when he had to repeat his senior year twice. They felt vindicated in their beliefs when it was rumored Eddie was dealing drugs. The murder charges were a bit of a surprise, but nothing actually changed in the way the town thought of him once he was absolved of those. Eddie was still an outcast and a freak, just not one that was wanted for murder.
But that Spring Break led to everything changing between the two of you.
Once his name was in the clear and he had graduated, Eddie’s new group of friends combined with his old ones to throw him a party to celebrate. Everyone was able to cut loose and relax at Steve Harrington’s huge house, so a fun time was had by all. Sometime during the night, feeling both happy and a bit on the horny side, you made a drunken pass at Eddie. His response was favorable, which led to a romp in the back of his van.
It was an impulsive thing, nothing that had been planned or talked about or even thought about beforehand. Neither of you had really spoke about it afterwards, which you took as an unspoken agreement. It was a onetime thing, a moment of physical connection fueled by alcohol and a much-needed reminder that you both made it out of everything alive.
Three weeks later, a little white stick turned blue.
Once the shock wore off after a few days, Eddie became determined to do the right thing. He asked you to marry him. Not knowing what else to do, but knowing he was a good man and you could do much worse, you said yes.
That first eight months of your relationship was a whirlwind. Between planning and executing a small courthouse wedding, getting ready for the baby, and the pregnancy itself, you two didn’t get the opportunity to breathe much less get to enjoy each other’s company and feel each other out as a couple.
Once the baby was born, a baby boy you two named Eddie Wayne, life only got crazier.
Now that the expenses for a baby were added into the budget, money got tight with there only being one income in the house. Childcare was too expensive to justify you working, so Eddie picked up as much extra work as he could, working even longer hours at the garage where he was a mechanic. It was the only way to keep up with bills, but this meant he was away from home even more, sometimes not getting home until well after you and Eddie Wayne were already asleep.
And that was how it quietly went for almost two years. You kept up with everything in the house and the baby, and Eddie brought home the paycheck. It was a routine you both fell into, barely seeing and talking to each other except in passing, even on his rare days off. While you missed your best friend and the friendship you had before, you thought this was just how life went for new parents.
But then the people in town started to notice how often Eddie wasn’t at the house. People saw his van parked up at the garage until all hours. People noticed how you two were rarely seen together anymore.
And so, the rumor mill started up again.
Your relationship was on the rocks, they said. You two had grown apart, they said. You both were too young, they said. It was only a matter of time before this happened, they said.
You did your best to ignore it, like you always did.
But as the months went on though, you noticed the random looks you normally got from strangers became increasingly sympathetic looking. You noticed people whispering around you more. Then, oddly, people actually began approaching you to speak with you. It wasn’t idle chitchat, like you do when you bump into someone, but instead were asking you specific questions about how you were and how life was going. They seemed to be checking in on you with genuine concern, though that was a bit baffling since no one had bothered to care about you before now. You kept the interactions polite but couldn’t help wonder what their ulterior motive was.
It wasn’t long before you finally heard the big rumor that was prompting such a response from people.
Eddie was cheating on you.
They said that’s really why he was up at the garage so late, said it was the only place he could get away with it since you were always home. They said he actually had several girlfriends on the side, and never had to be with the same one twice in one week. And his poor wife, they said. Stuck at home with her head in the sand, blissfully ignorant to her husband’s nightly activities.
It angered you at first. Not what they were saying, but why they were saying it. It struck you as petty and juvenile. You couldn’t help but wonder if they had anything better to do, if their lives were really so dull that they had to focus on yours instead. Despite the way you two ended up together, you doubted Eddie would actually cheat on you. Eddie Munson was many things, but a cheat in any capacity had never been among them. The town was always wrong about him before, and they were definitely wrong about this.
But as the weeks went on, the rumors persisted and you heard them more, it began to gnaw at you. And, once the shred of doubt was planted in your mind, it steadily grew into suspicion and paranoia. You really didn’t want to believe it, but now you had a little voice in your head asking you, what if? It’s not like you were up at the garage to really know what was going on. And why would they be saying it so much if it wasn’t true, if someone hadn’t seen something for sure? The more time that passed, the more it drove you crazy and the more the very idea began to hurt.
You began to really pay attention and notice things after that. Whenever you tried to engage Eddie in conversation, his responses were always short and to the point. He didn’t talk about his day and didn’t really ask about yours except for things relating to Eddie Wayne. While there may have been distance between you two, Eddie never stopped doting on his son.
And the distance was clear now that you really thought about it. There wasn’t even that much affection between you two. He barely touched you and sex was a rarity. Often weeks would pass before one of you would initiate it, and, even then, it seemed halfhearted and tired. It felt more like a routine rather than something either of you really wanted to do. Even the kiss he gave you before leaving every morning was brief and chaste, given without hardly a glance as he did it.
One thing piled up on top of the other in your brain until one afternoon when the gnawing paranoia finally bit down and made you snap to attention. It wasn’t anything big or out of the ordinary that caused it. It was a Saturday afternoon and Eddie called you to let you know he’d be staying at work well past closing. He didn’t give specifics, just that he needed to get some things finished and that you shouldn’t wait up for him.
This kind of thing happened all the time, but you decided you couldn’t take the suspicion any longer. It felt more like you were more roommates than spouses by this point, and it was eating away at you. You had to find out if the rumors were true.
You knew getting into the garage to surprise him wouldn’t be hard. A long time ago, Eddie had proven himself trustworthy enough for the owner to give him his own key to the place, as well as a spare to keep at home. While Eddie always had his key with him, you knew where the spare was since you’ve had to take it up there to Eddie a couple times when he accidentally locked his keys inside the building. With that in hand, you’d have no problem getting in after closing without having to give Eddie a heads up.
But, at the same time, your gut was telling you to be cautious and think this through carefully. A large part of you was still convinced your husband wouldn’t betray you like that. He had been your best friend for years and had never tried to deliberately hurt you before. You didn’t want to just barge in and interrupt your husband at his job with accusations flying when all you had to go on was the town gossip. You wanted to have an actual excuse for going up there if this all turned out to be nothing.
Since Eddie Wayne was a little over 18 months old at this point, Uncle Wayne had been offering to keep him overnight sometime so you and Eddie could have an evening alone together. He was overjoyed when you called to finally take him up on that offer and he picked up his grandson for a sleepover shortly afterwards.
Once your son was off with his grandpa, you got a quick dinner made. It wasn’t anything fancy, just spaghetti with a small splurge of meatballs, but it was something cheap and easy that you and Eddie both loved. You made two lunch containers of it, then stored the rest of the leftovers away in the fridge. You packed up both lunch containers, some silverware, and napkins into a paper sack, and then headed up to the garage where Eddie worked.
On your way there, the nerves started building. You were nauseous with them by the time you pulled into the parking lot. You identified Eddie’s van right away, but as you got out of your car, you realized there was no way to tell if he was alone before you went inside. The parking lot was half full of vehicles, and you had no way of knowing which ones were there to be worked on, or if any of them belonged to a late-night visitor.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to prepare yourself for anything as best you could and let yourself into the front door.
There was no bell overhead to announce your presence as you walked inside, so your arrival was thankfully quiet. It wouldn’t have really mattered had there been a bell though, you could hear music drifting into the reception area from an open door behind the counter that led to the garage area proper. You could hear a song from Megadeth’s latest album drifting into the room.
Following the sound of the music, you stepped through the door out into the garage. You couldn’t see much since most of the bays had a vehicle in it and it was dark The only light you could see was coming from the far end of the building, near the back wall by the office.
You carefully made your way through the semi dark garage, being careful not to trip on any stray hoses or tools. As you got closer to the light and music, you still couldn’t see anything thanks to a few stacks of tires and a large, upright toolbox. But once you stepped around those though, you got a full, unobstructed view of the very last vehicle bay.
And what you saw made you stop in your tracks.
There was a Jeep was parked in that last bay, with its hood up and a light clamped onto it. Eddie was bent over under the hood at an awkward angle, trying not to get in his own light and stretched out as if trying to reach something at the very back. It was really hot here at the back of the garage, so Eddie had the top half of his coveralls down around his waist. He’d also shed the wife beater he normally wore under the coveralls, leaving him completely shirtless. His skin had a heavy sheen of sweat on it, and he was flushed from being under the hot work light. He’d gotten grease and dirt on his back from being under the Jeep, but rather than make him look dirty, the grime seemed to contour and enhance the lean muscle lines of his back.
Your jaw dropped a little, eyes widening.
Eddie stood up then and turned towards a wheeled cart he had next to him at the front of the Jeep, scowling at the wrench he was holding. Oblivious to the fact he was being watched, he started rooting through the various sized sockets on the cart, his brow furrowed slightly as he compared the sizes to the one he had on the wrench originally. The tip of his tongue was slightly poking out from one corner of his mouth, which is how you could tell when Eddie was really concentrating.
Your breath caught in your throat as you took him in from the front.
His hair was pulled back in a chaotic mess of a bun, his black bandana rolled up and wrapped around his forehead to keep sweat out of his eyes. Drops of sweat trailed down Eddie’s chest and stomach and your eyes couldn’t help but follow one as it rolled down the center of his abdomen. The top half of his coveralls were weighing down the bottom half, making them sag a bit in the front. This pulled them down just enough to display the front of his hips, the trim V cut of his lower abdomen on full display and perfectly framing the start of a dark happy trail that disappeared down into his front of pants.
In all of the chaos and stress of life, the turmoil of being new parents and newlyweds simultaneously, and all of the major change’s life had thrown at you two in such a short amount of time…
You had forgotten exactly how fucking gorgeous your husband is.
All you could do was stand there and gawk at him. The reason for your visit not entirely forgotten, but, for the moment, at the very back of your mind. It wouldn’t hurt to keep letting him work so you could admire the view for a little longer.
Eddie finally gave up trying to find the socket he was looking for on the cart and turned towards the upright toolbox. Halfway to it, he finally looked up to see you standing next to it. He screamed in surprise, dropping the wrench and socket he was holding as he jumped backwards. This in turn scared the hell out of you, making you scream and jump in surprise yourself.
Thankfully, you did not drop the food.
The two of you stared at each other for a moment, wide eyed and breathing heavy after the jump scare you just gave each other.
And then, quite suddenly and unexpected, the distance you had been feeling between you two disappeared.
You both burst into laughing fits at exactly the same moment. It was that deep, soul cleansing laughter that’s sometimes needed just as much as a good cry. Eddie nearly doubled over, body shaking as he tried to get control of it. You felt your stress and anxiety melt away as tears sprang from your eyes.
As your tension and worry eased, a forgotten memory flashed through your mind from your senior year, which had been Eddie’s first. It was right after Hellfire let out and, since you didn’t have a car at the time, you had hurried to get home before it started raining. Unfortunately, after a brief trip to the restroom, you got outside only to discover it was pouring and everyone, but Eddie had already left. When you went back inside to ask him for a ride, you scared the hell out of each other then laughed about it, much like this.
Presently, Eddie scooped up the wrench he dropped, then went back to the cart to turn off his music. Then he turned to you.
“Jesus Christ, Princess!” he said, his voice filled with humor, and then he dramatically started clutching at his chest. “You could’ve given me a heart attack!”
“I’m so sorry, babe,” you said, giggling at his theatrics as you wiped tears from your eyes. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, I swear.”
His eyes looked down near your feet, then behind you, brow slightly furrowing in confusion.
“Where’s our little man?” he asked, and you realized he was looking for Eddie Wayne’s car seat or stroller.
“With his grandpa for the night,” you smiled at Eddie, then danced a little in place. “I’ve got the whole evening to myself.”
“Yeah?” he smiled at you softly as he finally made his way over to the toolbox, resuming his search for the correct sized socket. “Then what’s a beautiful girl like you doing messing around in a filthy place like this?”
Even now after all these years of knowing Eddie, whenever he was relaxed enough to fall into his old flirtatious demeanor with you, it still made your heart race just as much as it did back in school.
You briefly held up the paper bag you were holding and gave it just enough of a shake to make the silverware inside rattle around.
“I was just stopping by with some food for my amazing husband so we could have dinner together,” you explained, then a playful smile came to your face. “But then when I saw you, I couldn’t help but get distracted and forget my manners.”
You don’t know why you chose that wording in particular. It just popped into your head and seemed like a fun thing to say in light of how he just caught you staring at him like some love-struck teenager.
The irony of it wasn’t lost on you though. Here you were, down at your husband’s work for the sole purpose of seeing if he was cheating on you, but now here you were flirting with him as if he were just some random hot guy you were thirsting after rather than your actual husband.
While this wasn’t like any of the scenarios you had pictured in your head while on the drive over, you weren’t complaining. Scaring each other and the laughter that followed had put you in a relaxed, easygoing state. It was the perfect mood to put you in the mindset to flirt a little heavy handedly with Eddie.
His head lifted a little so he could look up at you, one brow raised in curiosity. He took you in for a moment, as if trying to figure out what your game here was. But then a playful glimmer came to his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a while.
He stood up straight, dropping the wrench he was holding into the open drawer of the toolbox with a clatter.
“Can’t say I was expecting anyone to come by tonight,” he said, dusting his hands off as he looked you over with an intense gaze that made your cheeks flush. “But you’re more than welcome to wait around in the office, see if he turns up. I’ll get washed up, then come keep you company.”
With a wink, Eddie began to head for the sink at in the corner of the garage.
You couldn’t help but blush slightly, then made your way into the office.
The small room was cramped and served as the office and break room. It contained a ratty couch against one wall with a coffee table in front of it, a table against the opposite wall that held a microwave and coffee maker, a desk near the window at the back of the room, and a full-sized refrigerator in the corner. There wasn’t much on the desk aside from extra office supplies but considering what Eddie has said about the owner rarely coming in, that wasn’t surprising.
Forgetting about the flirty banter since you thought that was over with for the night, you started to get dinner laid out for the two of you. You knew it would take Eddie awhile to get his hands and arms scrubbed clean like it always did, and that would give you plenty of time to get everything ready. After warming up the food and finding two sodas in the fridge, you arranged everything on the coffee table so that you two could sit on the couch together while you ate.
Right as you finished setting out the silverware, you heard the office door click shut and the lock twist into place. Smiling, you stood up and turned, your mouth opening in preparation to tease him about how long it always takes him to clean up. Before any words could leave your mouth though, Eddie’s lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss.
It felt like he was trying to devour you whole, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you before you had the chance to react. You gasped in surprise as his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you tightly to him. Once the surprise wore off though, your response was just as eager, lips moving with his to make the kiss even more intense. Your arms went around his neck, and you pulled him in closer. You softly bit his tongue and Eddie groaned into your mouth, his hips pushing forward against yours. Already you could feel him getting hard in his coveralls.
Since he responded to your choice of words so well, you decided to keep the little game going. You slid your hand up from the back of his neck into his hair and grasped a handful of it. Gently tugging, you used it to pull his head back away from you. He groaned as his lips left yours, letting his head move easily along with the pull.
“I told you I’m a married woman,” you said softly, lips inches from his. “What would my husband think if he were to walk through that door right now?”
It seemed like Eddie was enjoying the game now as much as you were. A tremble went through his body, and one hand slid down from your back to your ass, taking it in a firm hold. He pulled your hips even more firmly against his. Your grip loosened in his hair, and he tilted his head down to look into your eyes.
“Door’s locked up tight, Princess,” he said, his voice low and husky, with a slightly threatening tone woven in. “And no one’s getting through. It’s just you and me now.”
Holding onto you so you wouldn’t trip, Eddie started to walk you backwards. You gave no resistance, letting him lead you until you came to a stop against the edge of the desk. Your bodies were jostled a bit at the impact, your legs inadvertently opening into a wider stance. Eddie claimed the newly empty space by quickly stepping forward to stand between your legs. The firm press of his body against yours made you start to teeter backwards, but his arms squeezed your body tightly to his own, keeping you upright so didn’t fall back onto the desk quite yet.
“Please,” you whimpered, playing up the role of a helpless damsel by letting your head fall back, which only made Eddie bury his face in your neck. “My heart belongs only to him!”
The way you two were standing against the desk put him just at the right angle to grind himself against your entrance. Even through your jeans and his bulky coveralls, you could now feel exactly how much Eddie was liking this little role play with you. His cock was close to rock hard. The feeling of him pressed against you made you bite your lip, and you found yourself suddenly have to swallow a moan as he rolled his hips into yours with purpose. He had caused the seam of your jeans to bear down on your clit with just the right amount of pressure.
Your legs jerked a little on either side of Eddie as he did it again, knees quivering as little bursts of electricity traveled through your body from the contact. He was quick to respond, stooping down quickly to pick you up by the backs of your thighs and set you up on the very edge of the desk.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rumbly and low as the tip of his tongue flicked out over the skin on the side of your neck as if he were tasting you. “If it’s only your heart that belongs to him, then your body is all mine for the taking.”
Eddie grazed his teeth on your neck, making you gasp and grip your fingers into his hair again. Falling further into the role, you slipped your other hand between your bodies to rest your palm flat against his chest in a playful attempt to push him away. At this point, Eddie had a firm grip on you and was steadily rocking his hips into yours, grinding his hardness into you over your clothes.
You tried again to push him away again, this time adding just a little bit more force into it. As you did that, your fingers tightened down again in his hair, attempting to pull his head away from you like before.
This time, Eddie wasn’t having it.
He pulled away from you of his own accord, but only just enough that he could grab ahold of your wrists, one in each hand. Keeping a tight hold on you, he then threw you backwards onto the desk, holding your hands above your head as he leaned down over you. You cried out in surprise as you landed. With your ass now hanging halfway off the edge of the desk, the sudden movement of your body caused your legs to lift as your body rocked backwards. You took advantage of this by hooking them around Eddie’s hips, trapping him against you as much as you were trapped against him. He grinned down at you, and you bit your lip to keep from grinning back.
After shifting your wrists so he could hold them in one hand, Eddie ran the tips of fingers all the way down your arm until he reached your chest. He softly squeezed one of your tits, playing with it for a moment, before continuing further down between your bodies, not stopping until he reached the front of your pants. Keeping eye contact with you, he slowly started working the buttons of your jeans open one handed.
“That’s it now, be a good girl and just lay back for me,” he cooed down at you, the tone of his voice almost sinful the way it turned you on. “Lay back and I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”
As the last button on your jeans came open, you felt his hand slide into the opening of the denim, fingers caressing the fabric of your underwear.
You let your eyes drift open more, looking up at him and finally taking in his full expression. Eddie’s face was a mask of lust, his dilated eyes intent as he gazed down at you.
You could tell he was close to letting go. That fact alone was enough to make you even more excited. Your sex life with Eddie had never really been that wild, if you were being honest. There hadn’t been too many times that he had really let go of himself while being intimate with you. The first time in his van, the first time after giving birth once you’d healed, and a couple of random times after Eddie had gone out for a few drinks with the guys. You enjoyed the hell out of it every single time and only wished it happened more often.
This was definitely an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.
Jutting your chin out, you lifted your head up in a prideful way as you playfully glared into his eyes.
“Do what you will to me,” you said with a defiant tone. “But the only name I’ll be screaming tonight is Eddie’s.”
The grin that spread across Eddie’s face at that made your heart nearly stop.
“Oh sweetheart,” he said, then leaned down so his lips were just an inch from yours. “I’m fully counting on that.”
You weren’t given the chance to reply.
Eddie brought his lips down on yours, the kiss every bit as deep and intense as before. There was no pause this time before you were returning it, your mouth eagerly opening for his. You captured his bottom lip in your teeth, not biting hard enough to draw blood but more to make sure you had his full attention.
But you didn’t have to worry about that. As your teeth were sinking into Eddie’s lip, two of his fingers were slipping past your underwear to pull them aside. His grunt at the feeling of your bite was met by a soft moan from you as he ran his fingers through your folds and began teasing your entrance.
“Always so wet for me,” he muttered against your lips, sounding more like he was talking to himself.
Any reply to you could have given would’ve been lost on your tongue as Eddie slid his middle finger into you. It met no resistance, your wetness easily letting him slide in up to the third knuckle. Since you were already so worked up, he didn’t have to build up to it before starting to finger you at a steady pace. Your eyes closed as you moaned, head tilting back to give him access once again to your neck. He eagerly took advantage of this, his lips coming down to start kissing and sucking on the exposed skin. You could tell just from the pressure that he was deliberately marking you up.
Then, as he licked across the front of your throat to start making his way to the other side of your neck, he stopped the motions of his hand for just a second in order to sink a second finger into you.
You gasped, moaning loudly as your legs tightened around him to hold yourself in that position. He moved his fingers at the same steady pace, his lips sucking at this side of your neck now to leave marks that would match the ones now on the other side.
Being with Eddie as infrequently as you were made it was easy to forget just how good in bed he was. Even the halfhearted and tired sex that was the normal with him was far better than anyone else you’d been with. It wasn’t until this very moment as he curled his fingers inside you that you realized just how pent up you’d been. Getting yourself off for the last few weeks hadn’t cut it as much as you’d thought.
Thanks to the slow pace he had to keep due to the confines of your jeans, the heel of his hand was rubbing against your clit with every inward thrust of his fingers. It didn’t take long before your orgasm built, and you were about to crest its edge.
Right when your inner walls started to tighten around his fingers, Eddie ripped his hand out of your jeans and pulled himself completely away from you. You gasped, clenching around nothing, and aching from the denied orgasm.
“E-Eddie, please,” you gasped, near tears as your body lay trembling on the desk.
“M’sorry, I need you,” he panted, taking ahold of the waist band of your jeans. “Need to feel you clenching around me. Been way too long.”
Eddie quickly pulled your pants and underwear down your legs at the same time. Your shoes slipped off easily when he pulled them off, and the entire bundle was quickly discarded to the office floor. He stepped forward to stand between your legs again, his warm hands caressing your now bare thighs.
A soft sigh left your lips as he touched you, then you watched as he took one hand away to start working himself free of the coveralls. Eddie ended up struggling with them for a moment, having to really work to get one more button undone before he was finally able to push them down past his ass. You leaned up a bit on your forearms, watching as his boxers went next and his hard cock sprang free to lay along your slit.
You couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling, still sensitive from being so close to orgasm. He gave two slow rolls of his hips, dragging the length of his cock across your clit and electing a high-pitched cry from you. Eddie grasped the base of his cock then and tapped the leaking tip on your clit, making you jump slightly, before he slowly began dragging the head through your wet folds. You whimpered, your hips arching up off the desk towards him. He pushed you back down with one hand while he lined himself up with the other. With a slow, firm movement of his hips, Eddie’s hard length began to slide into your cunt.
A loud cry of pleasure left you as your head thumped back on the desk. Since he took his time, you could feel every inch of him. He paused halfway, shifting his stance, and lifting one of your legs higher around his torso before pushing in the rest of the way. You both groaned deeply at the feeling of him bottoming out. It had indeed been too long, your body had to adjust to him again. Luckily, it only took a moment, and as soon as Eddie felt you begin to relax, he began to move.
He started out with slow, but deep, thrusts, dragging his cock through your throbbing heat. You moaned, panting as you clutched at the opposite edge of the desk just above your head. Forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, you watched him as he stared open mouthed at where your bodies met, transfixed by the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he moaned suddenly, a shudder going through his body as he spoke. “S-so fucking hot. H-How’d I get so lucky?”
Eddie paused briefly to shift his stance and to move your leg up higher, over his shoulder even. Gripping your hips with both hands, he began thrusting with renewed purpose. This new angle had his cock hitting even deeper than before. You gasped as the head rubbed against your most sensitive places, including that one rough, spongy area that always made your toes curl.
“Fuck, God, Eddie, right there!” you screamed, already at the edge again. “I-I’m gonna cum!”
Not stopping this time, Eddie’s thrusting became faster, more frantic. One hand moved from your hip to slide between you, and he started rubbing circles around your clit with his thumb. You moaned a string of curses, feeling yourself starting to clench around his cock.
“J-Jesus, that’s it,” Eddie panted, leaning over so he had one hand resting flat on the desk next to your head, the other rubbing your clit faster. “Fuck! Cum for me, squeeze my cock with that tight cunt of yours.”
That was all it took to send you careening over the edge. You threw your head back and screamed as your orgasm washed over you, your cunt clamping down around him just as he wanted. Eddie wasn’t far behind, his thrusting growing erratic before he was cussing and groaning your name. With how sensitive you were, you swore you could feel his cock pulsing, then spurting as he came, painting your insides with his full load.
Eddie tried to fuck you both through your orgasms, but he had gotten too sensitive. It really had been too long. After a soft gasp that sounded close to a yelp, his motions stilled. Still buried deep inside you, his body trembled just as much as yours did as you both came down from your highs.
Once he had caught his breath, he moved to gently lower your leg from his shoulder to around his waist but stayed inside you. Leaning over, he bent down to you, one hand softly cupping the side of your face as he kissed you. The kiss was warm, tender; a loving contrast to the primal fucking that just occurred. He kissed you a few more times before sliding out of you and helping you up.
You both were giggling as you got dressed, grinning like idiots at each other and blushing. It was as if you were kids again and had just gotten away with doing something very bad. Which, technically, you did, you supposed. After all, having sex on the boss’s desk probably wasn’t looked highly upon, no matter the circumstances.
With appetites worked up, you both finally dug into dinner, with Eddie dramatically moaning in pleasure at the first few bites before you fell into an easy conversation. Eddie asked what you and Eddie Wayne got up to that day. You told him all about everything your son did, then he surprised you by asking specifically how your day was. He surprised you again when you asked Eddie about his day, and he actually started talking about it. That was a first. You had to ask a few questions here and there when he used a term you didn’t understand, but it was all pretty interesting.
Suddenly, in the middle of a story, Eddie broke himself off and smiled sheepishly at you.
“Sorry, Princess,” he said, looking like he was afraid you might be annoyed. “I know you don’t understand most of this. That’s why I try not to talk much about work.”
You blinked a few times in surprise, then shook your head.
“No, Eddie,” you said, looking at him warmly. “I love hearing about your day. If I don’t get something, I’ll ask about it if I’m curious enough.”
Relief came over Eddie’s features and he leaned over to give you a soft kiss.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence then as you ate. But that gave your brain the opportunity to go back to the original reason for your visit. Once it was back at the forefront of your mind, it began to gnaw at you once again, even in your post sex bliss.
Knowing this wouldn’t go away on its own, you decided it was time to just address it directly. The town could say what they wanted and didn’t need to know your business, but the air needed to be clear between the two of you, at least.
“So, I’ve been hearing a new rumor about you around town,” you said, keeping the tone of your voice playful, just like any other time you’ve filled him in on the latest gossip about yourselves. “And it’s a really juicy one this time, too.”
“Yeah?” he said, quirking a brow at you as he chewed a bite of food. “Do tell.”
You felt your nerves come up but didn’t let it show. Instead, you looked around conspiratorially and leaned closer to Eddie. Playing along, Eddie leaned closer to you too, tilting his ear towards you to listen. You cupped his ear with one hand, as if trying to keep a secret
“Word around the campfire,” you whispered, pausing for dramatic effect. “Is that you’re fucking around on me.”
Eddie snort laughed so hard he ended up choking on his own spit. As he lapsed into a coughing fit and you pounded him on the back, you couldn’t help but feel relieved already just based on his reaction.
“Those old bats, I swear,” he finally said, gasping for air as he wiped the tears from coughing off his cheeks. “I don’t have the energy to see you nearly as much as I’d like, much less the time to work in a side piece.” He paused to take a bite and continued on as he chewed. “When do they think I have the time? When I’m able to sleep? No thanks. I like what little sleep I do get.”
It was so casual the way Eddie spoke, not even thinking about what he was saying. There was no filter behind those words, nothing but the straight, stream of conscious Thoughts by Eddie. And so, it hit you straight in the heart, making it skip around a few times.
“That’s a very good point,” you said, unable to stop yourself from chuckling at yourself for even entertaining the idea seriously.
Eddie chuckled, then looked over at you with a grin.
“They say the same thing about you, you know,” he said, then took another bite as he watched for your reaction.
Now it was your turn to choke, though you choked on your food, and Eddie pounded you on the back until you got through it.
“For real?” you asked once the coughing fit was over. “When did those start?”
“Not too long after the wedding,” he replied, grabbing your soda to hand it to you. “Apparently, you’ve been fucking anyone they see come around the house, including the mailman, since day one.”
Your mouth dropped open in shock. That was a new one on you. It certainly explained some of the flat glares and head shakes you’d occasionally gotten since you two got married. You never paid much attention to them when it happened, thinking it was about something stupid.
As it turns out, you were right.
“As if I’d really cheat on the guy I’ve been crushing on since the sixth grade,” you scoffed, then took a drink of your soda. “There would be no sense in it. Besides that, pretty much like you said, when would I have the ti-“
“Wait, what?”
You looked over at Eddie to find him staring at you with a shocked expression and his fork halfway to his mouth.
“What?” you asked, not sure what he was asking about.
Eddie tossed the fork into his bowl, set it on the table and turned to you.
“We’ve been married for,” he said, then stopped to think for a moment. “Just over two years now and this is the first I’m hearing about you having a crush on me?”
You blinked at him in surprise, your eyebrows going up.
“I didn’t figure it mattered once we were married,” you said, shrugging. “We’re together now, so I didn’t think it needed to be said.”
The expression of shock on Eddie’s face would’ve been funny had you not known it was completely genuine.
“Princess, that would’ve been really helpful to know a long time ago,” he said, the tone of his voice incredulous and slightly shaky. “I’ve spent these past two years worried about if I really made you happy. I honestly keep wondering if you really want to be with me, or if you only agreed to marrying me because you didn’t want the stigma of being a single mom on top of being the town freak’s whore.”
There was no trace of cruelty in his voice since Eddie wasn’t calling you that name to be mean. That was something people started calling you near the end of junior year. By senior year, it had stuck, and you got called it every day until graduation. Some of the old bullies still liked to shout it at you when they saw you out. It was part of the reason why you didn’t like to leave the house most days unless you absolutely had to for errands.
“Admittedly, that thought did cross my mind,” you said, then sat your own bowl on the table to turn to him. “But I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t really want to marry you, baby or no. If you were the type of man that would’ve made me miserable, I’d still be at my parents’ house.”
The smile that came to Eddie’s face then could’ve lit up the entire garage. One of his hands came up to softly stroke the side of your face as he gazed at you fondly.
“And I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t truly want to,” he said. “Baby or no.”
You moved one hand to rest it on his leg, giving it a soft squeeze, as he leaned in to kiss you.
As the kiss gradually started to ramp up from loving to more intense, Eddie pulled away slightly, looking at you with a worried expression.
“Does this mean I can touch you more?” he asked, sounding unsure of himself suddenly as he started to ramble. “I thought you didn’t really want me to, so I never do, but, god, it’s all I’ve wanted to do since ninth grade, and I want to so much it drives me fucking crazy sometimes.”
Your cheeks blushed a bright pink at Eddie’s admission. It was a good feeling knowing he desired you as much as you did him, and your heart soared knowing he felt as deeply for you too. This hadn’t been a marriage of convenience for either of you, after all.
Taking his face in both of your hands, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, pulling back at the end to gaze into his eyes.
“Baby, you’ve always been able touch me,” you said softly. “Whenever you want and in whatever way you want.”
A grin spread across Eddie’s face, the glint you saw out in the garage coming back to his eyes. His hands found their way up to your shoulders and he pushed you onto your back on the couch. Climbing on top of you less than a second later, he laid himself between your legs, his lips finding their way to yours once again.
Like always, the town rumors about Eddie had turned out to be nothing more than falsehoods thanks to bored rumor mongering. There was absolutely nothing wrong with your marriage apart from the fact neither of you had properly communicating your needs and desires. And that was something both of you recognized now. The two of you made a vow to each other that very night, right there on his boss’s couch, promising to be more open with your feelings and thoughts.
And, as it turns out, you were given the opportunity to put those newfound communication skills to the test soon enough. When you left the garage that night, you left with more than just hearts in your eyes and very sore legs.
Just over three weeks later, another little white stick turned blue.
Oh, how the rumor mill had a field day with that one.
4K notes · View notes
Text
I was in a Baxter mood today so I went swimming in GB Patch's blog for all the Baxter facts:
General
His personality, at least defined by GB Patch, is that he's sheltered and out-of-touch without being elitist or self-centered. He's preppy/posh, quite sociable, and hates conflict, but likes to go against what's expected of him. He grows out of being such a rich kid trust fund baby by Step 4.
His parents are bigots. He's the unlucky one in a sea of characters with supportive parents.
He has a distant French origin.
His birthday is the day his DLC came out, meaning May 19th.
He's 5'11" (180cm) in Step 4 (this was apparently reconfirmed on the Our Life Discord as well).
His natural hair color - a dark dusty gray that he hates - is uncommon to be born with (as opposed to aged into) in the Our Life universe.
Childhood
His dream job as a child was to get into investments, having a strong portfolio with diverse assets (he does not fully know what that means at the time).
He's a late bloomer.
Baxter's crush on Qiu from Our Life 2 is at its peak when he's 12 and 13 (13 being his age in Our Life 2's Step 1), but he's moving on by 14 (when he can potentially meet the MC in Soiree).
He met Qiu at their local dance hall (as they both took lessons there, just in different forms of dance) and also met Ren/Renee (Darren in Our Life 2's Step 1) through Qiu, as the two had known each other since they were very young.
He wasn't thrown off by his crush on Qiu despite Qiu being a boy, as Qiu was popular and it seemed "unfair" to Baxter not to be able to like him. He puts more thought into it as he grows older and what it means, deciding that he'll feel however he'll feel and not worry about what's expected of him. In Soiree, the MC can notice this if they're male or non-binary, as Baxter isn't bothered by dancing with someone who isn't female.
Abilities (or Lack Thereof)
He's a weak swimmer. He can swim fine in pools but would probably struggle in the ocean.
He can sing.
He's experienced in multiple types of dance (though his favorite is the waltz).
Step 3 Baxter is a lazy, bad cook who doesn't even want to bother with cooking, but Step 4 Baxter takes an interest in trying more fancy/restaurant-style food and is able to do so.
Likes/Dislikes
He likes things being clean, but isn't always motivated enough to maintain that.
He liked video games when he was a kid, leaning towards action/adventure ones, though doesn't anymore in his late teens and beyond. He would play life-based games (such as the Sims series) with the MC if asked, however, either playing innocent like he didn't know what he was doing while messing around with the characters or being blatantly obvious about it.
He doesn't like dancing in clubs/discos. He would try it once because he enjoys trying different types of dance, but would only go regularly if he had a friend/partner who liked going to such places.
He would absolutely approve of an MC who chooses to only wear black and white.
Romantic Inclinations
Beyond his crush on Qiu (who he never confessed to), Baxter dates people, but never for long or seriously.
The reason he backs out of asking out the MC if they say that he's their first crush (unless the MC is referring to his Soiree self) is that he feels they have idealized feelings for him and he'd disappoint them. He essentially panics, not wanting to get the MC's hopes up and especially on their very first feelings of romance.
The best way to romance him is to Not Let Him Escape.
When it comes to what he's attracted to in another person, he likes seeing nail polish, false lashes/heavy mascara/naturally long eyelashes, and full suits (especially if they're expertly tailored).
His love language in terms of receiving is Quality Time, but in terms of giving, he will happily adapt to whatever the MC wants.
Clothing Choices
When it comes to Step 4 Baxter's personal dress code, he's always meeting/formal ready (even when not working) unless he's doing anything athletic, in which case the button-downs get a break.
- Likewise, his closet is basically all button-downs and fancy suits with a few exceptions including clothes suited for the cold.
Assorted
He immediately finds the MC and Cove appealing (not necessarily crushing on them) at the start of Step 3 as "beautiful beach strangers."
He'd be flattered to hear from an MC that they love his laugh/find it charming.
He says "hallelujah" because he's pretentious.
He doesn't know French, but does occasionally drop a French word he knows during Step 3 to "add to his formal flair." His Step 4 self considers it embarrassing in hindsight.
During the wedding in Baxter's Step 4, he will have Jude send along a vegan cupcake to the MC if they're vegan.
Semi-revealed during one of his mornings with the MC in Step 4, he has a multi-step daily skincare routine.
His Future
He has no preference over who he'd prefer to be the one to propose to the other in his relationship with the MC.
He would absolutely want to plan his own wedding (whether for or with the MC, depending on whether they want to be involved). He would not want another planner included.
He doesn't have a preference when it comes to last names during a wedding. He's just in awe that he's marrying someone at all.
He might consider having facial hair at some point in his life.
When it comes to having kids, he doesn't have any particular age he'd prefer to have them and is more of a "when it feels right" kind of guy. In terms of the number of kids, none is his default but he'd prefer to have two if the MC wants them, as he finds the relationship between the MC and Liz to be lovely and was personally lonely as an only child.
🍋 (below are asks that might be considered risqué - especially going to the posts themselves on some - but I wanted to include them for the sake of having all the information in one place; know that me and my prudish nature pushed through this for the people who want it and I hope you appreciate it! >:o) 🍋
This one definitely goes without saying due to being a love interest in a game where the MC can be she/they/he even down to being intersex, but Baxter is pansexual.
Baxter isn't good at being sexually active beyond being with an MC who wants that. He tries to bond with others but either fails to have his interest reciprocated due to being too forward or backtracks if he senses that someone is actually into him. His relationships are short/inconsistent for that reason.
He would never sleep with the MC during Step 3. He's already planning on leaving and wouldn't risk souring the relationship at any point even if the MC would want it. He wants company more than he wants sex and would not want to be remembered as the guy who slept with the MC and then just left without contacting them again.
Between chests and backsides, Baxter prefers the latter.
Baxter is a top (though is flexible on the matter), is into BDSM, and "kind of" has a sir kink.
398 notes · View notes
yeosbbm · 6 months
Text
Since Way Back…
Tumblr media
Smut | MDNI
starring: toxic! wooyoung x moving forward! reader
genre: smut, reconnecting, exes to lovers, pinch of angst
summary: Wooyoung had a lot on his plate and due to feeling overwhelmed broke up with you, soon after seeing you out with someone else… he realizes he never really was over you..one of his attempts to win you back leads to you and him together in a hotel bed.
warnings/prevs: wooyoung toxic more so toxic in a sense he won’t let go, mirror sex, mentions of drinking, mention of masturbation, praise, dirty talk, exhibitionism, cunnilingus, protected piv
A/N: hey guys this week I haven’t been feeling well so the push it series has been paused, but a yunho fic will be out tmr LOVE YALL ! ciao 🫶🏾
“I feel like this is just what’s best for us you know?.”
Like a scene out of a terrible romance movie, he invited you over and you both drank coffee. The conversation started with a bland “how are you” “where’ve you been” exchange..you knew something was up within the past 3 months. Then he says it..crushing you. You had to keep yourself from dropping your cup and crying.
“I think we should break up..I just can’t pull you into everything that’s going on with me…I feel like this is just what’s best for us you know ?.” You sat wordlessly, biting your lip as if it’d burst. You both got through it, talking it out and sharing a last final embrace before you left the dorms.
He was able to date you through company policy but unable to be seen with you. Having to make you sign an NDA as if you were a painful secret. That with schedules, exhaustion, his mental, and life in general. He didn’t want you to get caught up in it. He didn’t want to press his stress and burdens onto you..and he felt that it was unfair. Unfair that he has to secretly refer to you..unfair you two can only go out if it’s dark out..unfair he can’t post and gloat about you, unfair he can’t love you how you deserve..so he thought it was best to let you go.
It’s been 6 months. You’ve had to piece yourself together. You got a new job as a brand ambassador, you have a workout routine, you go on walks/jogs now, you journal, you’ve been going on dates..though your feelings for them are short lived and still don’t compare to him yet.
“Healing” phase as most call it. Tonight you have another date that you met through a mutual friend.
You have on a black slip dress, light makeup and some cute wedges. You walked into the restaurant and search around for your date. You find him and you both talk and eat. However, it just wasn’t clicking. The conversation felt so one sided and it was as if he cared more about taking you home with him than getting to know you.
And of course, as if the universe wanted to play a funny but horrid joke on you two, Wooyoung walks into the same restaurant. He’s with San and Yeosang..they’re dressed somewhat smart but not anything too loud or else they’d be recognizable.
Wooyoung, looks around the restaurant with its low white light helping with the dim and minimalist design. Luxury but somewhat, bleak. However, something was pulling at him..his intuition made him seek something out. His eyes scan across the space, eyes darting across the many tables and people. Finally as if a blackhole controlled his vision… sucked all of his attention and gaze onto you.
His heart caved in. Seeing you there, your presence and beauty putting him in a state of pain and adoration. A peaceful harmony that gets squashed once he sees your plus one. You’re touching that guys arm..you’re smiling at him ? Wooyoung sees this guy’s gaze drinking you in, the same way he used to. He doubts that this guy sees the things he saw in you though.
Yeosang notices Wooyoung’s stare and his pause at the dining room entrance, “Everything ok ?” Yeosang whispers to Woo.
“Yea yea let’s find the table.” Wooyoung says with a shake of his head beginning to walk off.
San nudges Yeosang and lightly points over to your table. “Fuck..did you know she’d be here.” San shakes his head with his eyebrows raised in mutual surprise.
Later that night, you went home alone luckily after coming up with an excuse good enough to not go home with your date. Then you get a notif from “Kpop News” about an ateez member sighting and realize Wooyoung was just at the same restaurant…
Wooyoung couldn’t sleep that night. He tossed and turned; memories of you kept invading his head.
Your laugh, your love and care, the inside jokes and how your presence calmed him. A painful twinge hits his chest. Your curves, legs, lips..the way you cried out his name and how he’d have you shaking. He looks down and sees the tent in his pants. He had to relieve himself in the shower.
-The Next Morning-
“….Roses..?” You stare at the bouquet that was at your front door and inspect it. It was a beautiful combination of red roses, baby’s breath and black lace bows. You see a notecard stamped to the wrapping reading, “You looked lovely last night, hope you’re well.” You quirk a brow and assume your date was the one who sent it.
“Last night was nice and the roses are beautiful.” You texted and got a quick reply back.
“Roses ?”
You think he’s probably doing a little joke about not knowing about the roses but then you get a text, assuming it’s him admitting to his ruse but no, it’s from an unlabeled number.
“Did you get the flowers ?”
“Yess but who is this ?” Your mind ponders on who could send them anonymously, and which date would go out of their way to surprise you like this. Then it clicks, and your heart stops and you stare at your phone incredulously.
“Wooyoung ? …”
“Can we talk or can I see you sometime.” Sent . Wooyoung put his phone down without the screen facing up. He’s in the middle of a meeting with the members. Yeosang can sense what’s up. “A flower bouquet is bold…don’t you think” Wooyoung quits biting his nails and looks up at Yeosang annoyed. “I’m not getting back with her we just need closure.”
Translating to, he needs to see you again because watching you give yourself to someone else is eating at him. “Closure ? Sending roses is not what closure is,,” Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders, “So ?” Yeo rolls his eyes and begins to rub his forehead. “It’s ok to want her back Wooyo but be honest with yourself.” San reassures while patting his back.
“ You guys don’t understand...that guy she was with….absolute sleaze.” Wooyoung tried his best to hide his frustration.
“That doesn’t mean interfere with her love life now after 6 whole months..”
“Plus you’ve had your share of sleazy girls since then.” San carefully reminds Woo.
“ First of all there’s been one girl and it lasted 4 days max she was rude and showy and full of herself and…ANYWAYS.” How stressed he is has fully became transparent. “I just think she needs someone better and not as lame or boring..(like me).”
“What.” Yeosang clocked the last part immediately, his bestfriend was down bad.
Ding. You replied to Woo’s message. Wooyoung and Yeosang looked up at each other. “Well…answer her.” “Shit. What if she said no.” Woo covers his face with his hands “Then you’ll have to leave her alone.” Woo checks it, and makes a face of confusion. “She said ‘Meet and talk about what.”
You sat there staring at your phone and sigh. It’s not the first time Woo has interacted since the break up. He’d check on you every now and again. It is sweet but would sometimes make your chest hurt all over again.
You’re torn on meeting with him because the chances of you bringing your hopes up and it being a disaster, as well as it being better than you thought but the possibility of getting lost in old emotions and ruining your progress.
Fuck it.
“You have to respond to get a solid answer.” San chimes in.
“Well should I tell her just to talk and something to drink or-”
Ding.
“She- she texted again” Wooyoung stares at the notification appalled.
“…well…..LOOK AT IT ?” San says while whacking Woo on the shoulder. All Wooyoung did was stutter and fumble his phone.
“Jesus Christ Woo.” Yeosang whispers sliding his hand down his face, exhausted from the ridiculousness. Yeosang picks up the phone and raises his brows.
“She said you could meet her, you need to choose the time and place.”
Hongjoong begins scolding the trio of guys for having a sidebar convo during the meeting. Whilst Hongjoong is lecturing them, Woo mentally starts planning for the date.
-The Date-
Wooyoung chose for you to meet him at this newer restaurant. He actually put a lot of thought into the meet. He sent you a dress a few days before once again leaving a note. “Can’t wait to see you in it.”
You were surprisingly excited about the date. You initially dreaded it because you couldn’t tell if when you saw Wooyoung if you’d cry or want to punch him in the chest. Plus the day before the you and your previous date got into a heated hurtful argument that had you emotional. So maybe seeing Wooyoung will help you feel better.
You walk into the restaurant early, needing time to prepare for seeing him face to face again. You talk to the hostess, “Hello I’m here for a reservation under the name Jung Wooyoung.” She types it out on her server, “Oh ! Yes, your plus one is already at the table.” God. You walk to your table and see Wooyoung sitting there.
He looks terribly handsome. You’re hoping you don’t look like a hopeless dope staring at him. You both chirped quick hellos to each other, Wooyoung is smiling which of course, is so contagious you smile as well. You take a seat and can smell his cologne. “You look gorgeous,,I’m glad you came to see me.” You fix your hair a bit and adjust yourself in your seat, all you can do is utter a “Thanks.” Your nerves were killing you and Wooyoung could tell. “Are you nervous..I know it’s been a while but it’s just me.”
You shrug and cross your legs. Wooyoung uses your lack of attention on him to stare at your body. He knew this dress would be the best fit. “Idk I guess I’m not sure how to feel about seeing you again.” You look up to see Wooyoung staring he’s observing you. He quickly grabs his glass and gestures the waiter over to pour you both a drink. “I understand what you mean…I’m nervous too…when I saw you a few days ago my heart dropped to my feet.” You remember the headlines about him being at the same restaurant.
He passes you your drink and takes a firm hold of his. He lifts it up. “But, anyway,, cheers to us getting over our fears.” Your heart isn’t speeding due to you finally relaxing. Wooyoung still looks handsome, flashing his prince like grin towards you. “Cheers.”
- Time skip -
It has been hours and you and Woo were still at the restaurant. Drinks upon drinks have been poured for you both but luckily, neither of you were drunk. Even little phases of being tipsy has passed. You guys talked about everything and reminisced about the past. The physical distance between you closed while you sat directly by him. This is the best conversation you had at a date in months.
Wooyoung was finishing a joke up before you both broke out in laughter you leaning into him and hiding your face in his shoulder. This made his heartthrob and he’s back to staring at you with heart eyes, you’re too caught up in your laughter to notice of course. You two’s laughter finally settles while you both returned to sipping your drinks.
“So..what about that guy…that you’re with.” You look up from your now half empty drink and squint. “Guy I’m with ?…I’m not seeing anyone ?” Wooyoung bites his lip and taps his hand on the table. “The guy at the restaurant.”
The argument you had with him the other day replays in your mind “..yea I don’t think I want to talk about him.” Wooyoung’s hand that’s next to your’s fully slides over on top and lightly squeezes. “If he did anything to you know I’ll ask the guys if-” You take your other hand from your drink and place it on his shoulder. “Wooyoung no, no we just got into an argument..we just didn’t mix well.” Woo relaxes a bit.
“What was the argument about..if I can be nosy…” You want to call his question nosy but you know you REALLY had to vent. “He thought we were taking things too slow, so stupid, we argued at a drive in and I cried. Ugh.” Wooyoung has to keep himself from clenching his jaw and balling his fist, the mere thought of someone talking to you sideways still angers him. “You don’t deserve that at all that guys a damn idiot.” However, through his anger he realizes this is a great opportunity plus when you two were together he’d always use humor + flirting to cheer you up.
“I remember when we argued I never made you cry..except you know every now and again.” Wooyoung smirks a bit. “You never made me cry when fighting what do you mean.” You laugh while trying to remember when he made you have anything but happy tears. Wooyoung leans back, manspreading his hand on your knee. “I mean in bed….”
A flash of heat runs across your face, you can’t tell if it’s from the margarita or flashbacks. Flashbacks of you falling apart on his dick and becoming a pliant mess for him. Tears welling in your eyes from pleasure while being praised by him.
Wooyoung’s eyes are on you and he licks his lips. You attempt to ignore his stare. “Of course that’s what you meant.” You turn your head away and wave the waiter over to bring another drink. Wooyoung is tracing light shapes into your knee and upper thigh, something you haven’t noticed till now and once again..must ignore.
Wooyoung sees the look on your face..it’s a face he knows all too well. When you’re starting to get needy.
“Is he as good.” Woo’s head is tilted and a sly smile plastered on his face. “At what..as a person..no he’s super shallow and lowkey is a fuckboy but..” You pause because of Woo’s chuckle.
“What’s so funny.” You’re smiling but heavily curious. “I mean is he as good as me…does he please you.” You feel another flash of heat, you adjust yourself on your seat and now realize how close you and Wooyoung are in this booth seat. You’re a leg movement away from being propped on his lap. “Mm we never really got to…you know.”
Wooyoung looks overjoyed to know you didn’t let him hit. A grin is now plastered on his face. “It’s not like he could handle you anyway..pussy would’ve destroyed him.”
You both laugh and lean into each other. “No but seriously, it’s not like anyone can do it like me.” You roll your eyes and sip your new drink. “Oh really.” Wooyoung’s hand on your knees gradually gets higher up. “Yes really I mean..I’d have you shaking from my hands alone.” Wooyoung experimentally brush his hand on your inner thigh, you know that this is wrong. Letting your ex get you all hot in public and letting them play with you under the table but. Fuck it.
You opened your legs up a bit more, giving Wooyoung the green light to do as he pleases. He lightly brushes his hand up and down your cunt through the thin lingerie. After some teasing touches he finally brings his hand down your panties.
You gasp and go to reach for his hand but he swats your hand away. “Shhh don’t want everyone to see how needy you are do you.” He rolls and rubs deep circles into your bud and lightly prods your hole, but never fully bringing it in. Your breath is shaky and he starts rubbing your clit faster making a small moan tumble from your mouth. “So wet…did you miss me that bad.”
“Let’s get outta here…..please.” Wooyoung smiles and takes his hands from your panties. He then takes his phone out to reserve a room at a hotel.
-At the Hotel-
You and Wooyoung finally walk into the room, it’s on the hotels highest floor, a penthouse. Wooyoung and you are pawing at each other and kissing fervently. He removes his shoes and jacket and unbuttons his dress shirt. You slide down the straps of your dress causing it to slide down a bit further showing your cleavage.
You and him finally get into the main bedroom. It has a large king bed with blunt but warm golden lighting and a grande body mirror in front of the bed.
“You’re not drunk right ? You actually want to do this..if not I’ll take you home right now..” you shush him with a quick kiss on the cheek. “I do…I’m sober.” Wooyoung nods assured and after looking at you once over ensuring you weren’t intoxicated, he goes in for a kiss.
The kiss is deep, it felt like no time passed between you both at all. The kiss made your knees knock and consumed you with heat, the sexual tension between you two finally being broken. He takes his hands and rubs up and down the back of your thighs and slides the bottom of your dress up to your waist and grips your ass. “Go to the mirror.”
You both step over to it, your dress still pulled up exposing your lower half. You can feel Wooyoung’s bulge straining his pants behind you. Without any hesitation Wooyoung pulls your panties to the side and begins playing with your folds, taking note of the amount of arousal already pooling there.
He wordlessly pumps a single finger in a while maneuvering to play with your clit. You let out small sighs and whines. “Only I’ve seen you like this right, nobody can even get you this wet can they?” He brings another finger in, you can hear your wetness and feel the vibrations of his fingers hitting the right spot flow through you. He alternates between slowly curling and scissoring them into you to finger fucking you without mercy.
Your eyes are closed, too lost in all the feelings. They flutter back open when he suddenly removes his fingers and goes in front of you. He pops the two fingers in his mouth and sighs of satisfaction. Then he gets on his knees.
“Hold this for me baby or I’ll ruin it.” You grab the front of your dress and hold it up for him. He pulls your panties fully down before licking along your slit, stopping at your clit to playfully flick it. Your knees buckle again but Wooyoung places a hand on your calf. “No. Stand and watch us.” You look back into the mirror, your eyes are in a daze and lips are plump and swole from the constant biting out of pleasure.
“None of them make you look like that.” Wooyoung heads back into your cunt and buries his face. Lapping and messily eating you out with no neatness. You struggle holding yourself up and having to see your own eyes sinful look in the mirror. He begins to raise his hands on your hips making you grind yourself on his face.
You look down momentarily and see Wooyoung looking up at you, his eyes giving nothing but a low intent stare. You’re riding his face and he sucks and tongues down your cunt, occasionally bringing a single hand down to use his fingers on your hole.
Soon it all starts straining and you can feel yourself on the brink of cumming. Wooyoung already knew that tho, and stops. Popping his mouth off your clit before pulling away. Before you can protest from the edging he backs you into the bed and takes his cock out. He reaches in his pocket and takes out a condom to put it on.
He opens your legs and begins to rub the tip across your folds and tapping it on your clit making you cry out from the stimulation. “Tell me if it’s too much.” It never was too much. However, Woo was cautious and you nodded. “What’s the color if you want to stop ?” You remember it automatically, “Red.” Wooyoung let out a soft grin and coo’s “Good girl.” then Wooyoung slides his cock in and begins deep stroking. You start to moan uncontrollably, feeling that one spot inside being constantly hit and prodded by his cock. Your moans spur Wooyoung on making him fuck into you harder.
Wooyoung bends your legs to your chest and starts making deeper thrust. He leans down and brings a breast into his mouth, nipping at teasing the bud while crashing his hips into yours.
“None of them can fuck you like I can, can they ?” You struggle to say an answer from the haze of pleasure you’re in. Wooyoung grabs your neck causing you to focus. “Did they ever make you cum baby?” He says in a fake empathetic tone. Finally you control your moans and utter your truthful answer. “ Barely, none of them,,they- they weren’t you.” A string of moans fell from you as Wooyoung’s dick kissed your cervix.
“That’s right, stand up for me baby.” He pulls out which makes you let out a quiet gasp by the sudden emptiness. He brings you back to the mirror and has you lean forward, hands on the wall from each side of the mirror. Your back naturally arches from the position and Wooyoung runs his hands down your back. He makes you look into the mirror. “Look at you, so so pretty I missed seeing you like this…I think about it every night.”
The face you saw wasn’t new..before you and Wooyoung went your separate ways he managed to pull this fucked out face out of you frequently. One hand is caressing your jaw while the other is sensually running it down your back. This bent over position has you anxious for more. “Wooyoung please..I need you.” Wooyoung places light kisses on your back. “What do you need.” You’re clenching around nothing, “Show me how much you missed me.” He aligns his cock at your entrance again and plunges right back in.
He fucks into you once more this time with a consistent rhythm that makes you see stars. You can’t help but get louder practically crying on his cock. He fucks you at a pace all too familiar, your body knew it like clockwork. Then you feel the build up inside crashing down. “Go ahead baby..cum I know you can’t take it.” The orgasm washes over you, making your muscles stiffen and eyes rolled back.
He continues to fuck into you, causing you to be overstimulated and tearing up. Skin slapping and both of your moans and pants fill the room for what feels like hours. You came all over his cock again and then after a few more moments of him chasing his own high, his cum spills into the condom.
He ruts into you a couple more times to ease himself through the orgasm. He hasn’t felt a release like that in so long, his vision is blurred in a sense and he shudders. With the small bit of strength he had left he pulled you close to him and backed you both onto the bed.
After disposing the condom and a shared shower you’re both in the hotel bed nude. Wooyoung laid on his back while your head rests on his chest, legs entangled with each others. His presence causing you internal chaos and bliss simultaneously.
But then, it dawns on you..what if this was a quick needed fuck. What if it’s all the same again tomorrow and you’re back to being strangers. You decide to get your hopes down and not allow them to rise.
“So when do you plan on leaving.” You whisper. Your expectations are tomorrow in the morning he’ll be gone and fade back into the wind as someone you once knew.
Wooyoung gives a puzzled look before shaking his head. “Not until whenever you want to leave..I’m staying y/n.”
“You’re crazy..” you run a hand over your face, avoiding his gaze. He holds you tighter, “I mean it y/n, I’m back for a reason, I can’t let you go…I’ll find a way for the both of us.”
You don’t answer knowing that you’ll short circuit and become another crying mess; tears from frustration from the past few months releasing and how he’s back after months of moving forward. As well as tears of relief and being glad he’s there.
He snuggles you closer onto him and begins whispering sweet nothings and a repetitive “I’ve missed yous”. In contrast of the sweetness he also has a firm hold of your body that screams possessiveness whilst also mumbling about how no man understands you or your body like he does.
Through the silence, Wooyoung can sense you’re still awake, and begins tracing shapes on your skin again. “Before all this what have you been up to.” You laugh from the sudden calm casual question.
“Mm what’s with the sudden interview.” You joke to him with a half smile, already falling asleep. He kisses your forehead and rubs your side.
“I can’t help but wonder how you’ve been babe.”
492 notes · View notes
netherfeildren · 8 months
Text
Greener Memories of Better Men
Tumblr media
Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…
Joel Miller is one of them. 
-OR- 
Sarah’s gone and Joel wants to feel close to her again. He reconnects with someone he used to know along the way.
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: No outbreak; Grief; Child loss; Emotional hurt/comfort; Angst; Fluff and smut; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Oral Sex (f!receiving); Size Difference; Size kink; Dirty talk; Truck sex; Praise kink
A/N: This was planned for a long time, and then just happened all at once today without prior thought. Enjoy! :)
Word Count: 10.8K
Read on AO3
When she got very sick, towards the end, they used to listen to “The Weight” by The Band all the time. He’d sit at her bedside playing it for her over and over again, and he’d watch her breathe. For hours, he’d sit there and watch the rise and fall of her chest, the slow, weak thrum of her pulse in her neck beneath the wan and clammy skin, listen to the sound of her fight to continue existing. Sometimes, when she was a little more on this side of lucid, when she’d let him look at those gorgeous green eyes, she’d mouth the words at him through cracked, parched lips. Hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed? The still beautiful sound of her laughter, not made any less lovely despite its weakness now, when she adapted the lyrics to suit herself, take a load off, daddy. 
And sometimes, when she was keen on showing that superior and tremendous wit, that intelligent mind, the eye she had for seeing within and through him, she’d say that Fanny was the friend they’d always needed, but had never had. Like she knew, she knew there were times, only sometimes, where there was something missing, an imaginary figure that would have been nice or helpful, that was sometimes wished for. A mother, a wife, a partner, a friend, something they might have both needed or liked to have, perhaps, even especially, now, at the end. 
It had been a slow crawl towards death, for a long time, and then, suddenly, a mad dash to the finish line she’d seemed desperate to win. 
At times he’d been angry, angry and resentful and so fucking filled with a rage so deep it terrified him at the unfairness of it all. Sometimes there were parts of Joel that wished it was him lying in that bed, rotting away from the inside out by that invisible poison crawling through his little girls veins, but then the idea of Sarah being the one left behind, the one left alone, seemed an equally terrible fate, and he could not discern which was the worse of the two evils. And so he was left with nothing but this terrible impotence warring inside of him against his equally terrible anger. 
If he could have carried the weight of her illness for her, he would have. If he could have bore the pain and suffering of it, he would have. He would have eaten his own heart, cut off his own limb, forsaken everything he’d ever known, to have taken her suffering from her. He’d told her they’d be brave together, that they’d get out of it together. Eventually though, that mad dash had ended, and after it was all done, she’d been the only one to be brave, and he’d been the only one to get out of it. If that’s what it could even be called. Sarah had died and Joel had been left with nothing more than whatever half life he pretended at now. 
It’d been a year and a half since then, five hundred and sixty seven days since he’d put his only child in the ground. Days of living his life as if a thousand raging gladiators screamed and readied for battle in his mind while he lay limp and motionless in their midst. While he lay limp and motionless as the rest of the world went on around him. He failed all the time now, it seemed. Failed at being a father, a man, a brother, in his waking hours and in his dreams. And sometimes he wondered or worried at what she’d think of him now, if she saw what he’d let himself become. A limp and useless thing in the shadow of the memory of what he’d always been or wanted to be. 
But he remembered love, he remembered loving her, and he thought that if he held onto that, perhaps, he could be something again. Certainly not himself, or who or what he’d been before, but he could find the wherewithal or the strength or the conviction to be something, surely, he could be something again. How could death have the ability to touch such perfection? He could not understand. So, if he could no longer be a father, Sarah's father, then he could find it in himself to at least be alive, couldn’t he? For her, at least, for that memory of loving her. 
He sees the flier at the YMCA one evening, after he’s finished his workout. For months he’d gone from work to bed and bed to work. Gotten soft and lazy and horrible, half dead, but he’d had a dream a few weeks ago, a memory of them at Lady Bird Lake when they’d go and feed the ducks. She’d wanted to burst into the water after them, catch one for herself. Skinny little arms and legs flailing as he caught her around the waist, stopping her from rushing in after the poor things as they paddled madly away from the lovely little terror that she was. The thing he was now was not the man, the father, he had been before, not even a fraction. And he’d felt disgusted and ashamed and frightened with himself at the thought of her ever seeing the creature he’d become. He’d gone for a jog that evening after work. As exhausted and beaten down from the day as he’d been, he’d tied on his sneakers and forced his body to move. It had felt terrible and cathartic and he’d thrown up in his front yard afterwards, pathetic, heaving sobs wracking his body as he emptied the contents of his stomach in the overgrown grass and tears dripped down the tip of his nose, right there for the whole world to witness. But he’d gone out again the next day and the next and the next, and then he’d gone and gotten a membership for the Y, paid the thirty dollars and promised himself he’d make it there a few days every week. Pushed himself week after week to exhaustion and tears, even, sometimes. Wilting into bed at the end of the day like a felled weed, but he couldn’t stop. 
Don’t stop to think, don’t interrupt the scream. 
So he tried to not think, and he tried to keep going. 
They used to walk down there all the time before, to the Y, Joel, Sarah and Tommy. She loved to swim, and the three of them would jump in the pool together and play for hours every summer. They were good memories he knew he needed to keep fresh in his mind, like a muscle that needed to be exercised constantly. He couldn’t, didn’t want to lose them. 
The flier called for volunteers to show up for an event at Sarah’s old elementary school, “Breakfast with Dads” requesting fathers who could show up for those children who didn’t have a father figure in their lives. He’d stood still as a statue, reading the poster over and over again for almost ten minutes there, in the middle of the bustle of the busy gym around him. He could still remember the last time he’d picked her up at school with perfect clarity, the way she’d looked, curls bobbing around her, green eyes shining, shooting out the double doors towards him. She’d always been good in school, smart and lovely and friendly. He’d had to make the difficult decision to pull her out almost a year before she’d died, when she’d started getting too weak from the treatments to continue going in person. He’d not been back to the place since. Didn’t know if he was capable of walking through those halls she used to walk through, where she’d been happy, had friends, been a kid. 
He thinks about it for days afterwards, afraid and unsure and awkward with himself. Worried the children will be able to smell the deceit on him, the fact that he isn’t really a father anymore, lying on the soft purple rug of her perfectly preserved bedroom. A mausoleum to her memory that he meticulously cleans every Sunday to maintain exactly as she left it, staring up at the stick-on stars of the ceiling. He thinks that perhaps it would be good for him, that perhaps he would like the chance to feel like a father again, to remember what it is to have some spunky little kid talk at him for hours on end the way Sarah used to. And if nothing else, he thinks that there might be some child out there without the commodity of a father, the way he is without the blessing of his daughter, who would appreciate the fact that he’d shown up. Perhaps, he can make some kid not feel as alone as he always feels now. 
The morning of the breakfast dawns bright and warm, but with the faint scent of impending rain in the ether. She’d died on the same kind of sunny, tremulous day, and Joel’s hands shake as he walks up the steps of the elementary school. Flashes of the memory of her running out of these same double doors, skipping down the steps, curls flopping and gap toothed smile more luminous and sillier than any sight he’d ever beheld before. His heart beats like a hummingbird in his chest, hands clammy and shaking and ridiculous. He cries all the time now, at any and everything and it embarrasses him but is also so strangely freeing. He’d watched that ridiculous, but not really, movie Uptown Girls last night and had wept like a child at the end of it, all throughout it if he’s being honest. Huge mistake for the night before he was supposed to show face bright and early and have some kid inspecting him. Tommy’d shown up this morning with coffee and burritos and told him his face looked swollen, fucking asshole, and he’s once again ridiculous and embarrassed and awkward and shaking with nerves as he takes a few deep, calming breaths, before stepping into the Sarah’s old cafeteria. 
The large room is loud and chaotic, the bright sound of children’s voices and laughter and commotion, and people, there are a lot of fucking people. Two different lines of men, traversing the entire wide room, starting at a long table on one end and snaking through the lunch tables. It seems he wasn’t the only one who’d seen the posters, who had felt the need to come here today. He’s inspecting the lines, deciding which one seems to be moving faster when he hears his name, soft and breathy and incredulous, voice like a fucking angel: “Joel?”
He turns and there you are. “Joel Miller?” You almost stumble towards him, hand almost outstretched, eyes almost swimming. The last time he’d seen you was the last time he’d picked Sarah up here, and there’d been real tears in your eyes that time as you got to your knees, and his daughter buried her face in your neck, your soft hair, as she cried and told you how much she’d miss you, how much she didn’t want to go. You’d been her last teacher before she’d had to leave school – she’d never gotten to finish the year with you, and it had been a painful and difficult parting for the both of you. One he’d not appreciated fully in the moment, but now, looking at your shocked face, like you’ve seen a ghost, the memory rears its head in his mind, the sound of your voice trying to soothe her, trying to remain strong, stifle the sound of your own tears. You’d gone to the hospital once, near the end, the nurses had told him, in the quick hour he allotted himself to go home and shower every day, to say goodbye to her. Had sat at her bedside and laughed with her, brought her a card and a bright bouquet of yellow daisies in a pretty, blown glass vase from her entire class. It had been near the end of the school year, what would have been the end of Sarah’s second grade year, and he’d been glad, after the nurse had gushed about the pretty young woman who’d come in, made Sarah laugh and smile, perked her up for even a few brief moments, he’d been so fucking glad he’d missed you. He hoped he’d never have to see you again, could avoid the memory of his daughter in your care, the way the two of you looked at each other, like you shared a secret, a friendship, a connection, that of pupil and teacher, but also just two girls, something special and sacred. He envied it and resented it and was glad he’d missed you and grateful he’d not had to see you, but he was also grateful for the fact of you, that you’d been able to give her something she’d needed and he could not provide. 
He whispers your name, and you finally reach him, hand fully outstretched now, not an almost anything anymore, and your small, delicate fingers grasp at his thick forearm. The soft touch burns. 
He places his big hand over yours, completely engulfing you, and when he whispers your name back he feels a tremble in your limb. “Joel, I’m so glad to see you,” said with so much sincerity he feels the backs of his eyes pinch. He did not think the hardest part of this day would be seeing you again, a person who’d known and cared for his daughter so deeply. 
“I– I’m glad to be here,” he chokes, coughs, tries to take a steadying breath. “I saw the posters– just thought… I just thought it’d be nice for me to come around.”
“Yes,” you squeeze his arm gently, “Yes, of course. Welcome, please, I’m really so glad to see you here. There are so many great kids here today–” you cut yourself off, and your face does a funny sort of uncertain thing, you shake your head, try and give him a small smile. A deep breath, and then: “There are so many kids here that need someone. It’s a real good thing you came.”
“Yeah, well… I just wanted to– to feel– to remember–” he shakes his head too, unable to continue, but he sees that you understand. You slide that small hand into his, wrapping around two of his thick fingers and pull him around and further into the room. Nodding your head and smiling back at him like you’ve got the best sort of secret you’re about to let him in on. “Of course. Come on, I’ll show you to your seat. I know just the person for you.”
-
“Joel, this is my niece–”
“Who the fuck is this guy?” All the sass in the world and a scarred eyebrow to boot. 
“Ellie,” you say nice and slow, voice soothing as if trying to calm a wild banshee on the verge of revolt, it makes him smile a small smile, “We’re gonna be nice. You promised this morning.”
“Ugh, fine,” she drops her head back on her neck, and he can see the whites of her eyes flash as she rolls them as far back as they can surely go. “Stick me with the dinosaur, what do I care?” Christ, he mutters under his breath, trying to hide his scoff of a laugh with a rough cough. He turns his head to rub his chin against the hill of his shoulder, running a hand over his whiskered face. 
“Ellie– Mom said you can’t go to the sleepover tonight if you aren’t nice. Right?” You try and reason with her. 
“Fine. Whatever – nice.” And she flashes a big old, saccharine grin, wagging her eyebrows at you. 
“Okay,” you turn back to him, bringing your hands together in a soft clap beneath your chin and giving him a small and painfully sweet little smile – worried and probably a little afraid for him. He shakes his head, “It’s alright, we’ll be okay,” he says low, distracted by the sight of your small hands, fine and delicate looking, and the dainty gold necklace that sits at the hollow of your throat, a little golden pendant of your initial. 
You nod your head slowly, turn back to give the kid, Ellie, one more stern look, and then turn to walk away, leaving him to face her alone, and no, he most definitely does not glance at your ass as you walk away from him.
He turns back to look at the kid, and she rolls her eyes again, turning back to flip open the book she’s got infront of her on the lunch table, a one Will Livingston’s No Pun Intended: Volume Too. 
He snorts a little, sighs and settles into the cramped bench made for a child, thick thighs barely squeezing into the space between the table’s edge and the seat, knees bumping the underside. “Well aren’t you a pleasant one.”
“Yeah, a ray of fuckin’ sunshine. What’s your problem?”
“Jesus, kid. How old are you?”
“Thirteen. How old are you?”
“Forty eight.”
“Old.”
“Yeah.”
“So, why'd you get stuck with the leftovers? Where's your kid?”
He clears his throat, “Uh well, she– she’s not here anymore. Or I mean– she doesn’t go to school here anymore. She died. A while ago.”
“Oh, shit.” She’s quiet for a beat, looking down at the open page of the book, It doesn’t matter how much you push the envelope. It’ll still be stationary. “That sucks, man. I'm sorry.”
He supposes the correct response is: “Thank you,” he nods his head awkwardly, still unaccustomed to going through the motions of having to tell people and accept condolences. He doesn’t think it’ll ever be something he gets used to. 
“I think…” she tilts her head side to side, letting the thought slide between her ears, flips to the next page, I walked into my sister’s room and tripped on a bra. It was a booby trap. “That my dad is dead, or at least a dead beat or something,” she snickers. “Don’t know. My mom never talks about him.”
Dead or a dead beat, he mutters, shaking his head, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s hard– being a parent, right?”
“Yeah. Yeah… hardest thing in the world–”
“Is it like – like weird… to not be one anymore?”
He feels his stomach drop out from under him, coughs roughly, “Dunno… I guess– I guess in ways I still feel like a parent. Think I’ll always feel like that. But in other ways, yes, it’s… weird.”
“Yeah… I guess that makes sense. You don’t forget how stuff feels, right?”
“Yeah, you don’t forget how stuff feels.”
“Do you like space?” she asks suddenly, very seriously, knocking her head to the side, looking up at him with big, baleful, hazel eyes. His heart twists in his chest.
“Sure, yeah. Space is alright.”
And then another seeming one eighty: “If you could do anything you wanted, where would you go? What would you do?”
“Don’t know, never really thought about it. Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land, a ranch.”
“Cool. What kind?”
He shakes his head, Jesus, I don’t know… “Sheep. I would raise sheep.” She nods, doubtful, unimpressed look on her face, and he frowns at the look, “They’re quiet, do what they’re told.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. So, just you and a bunch of sheep. Romantic,” she says sarcastically. 
“What about you? What would you do?”
She points a single finger up towards the ceiling, ah, space… “Probably because I’ve always been here, never left Austin, single mom and all, ya know– I’ve read everything I could in the school library… Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?”
He could understand her on this. He felt, too often, like he was still right where she’d left him. “Sally Ride,” he says, of course.
“Sally fuckin’ Ride!” She slaps her hands down on the table, “Best astronaut name ever,” Shakes her head, whistling through her teeth appreciatively. 
He nods his head, yeah, figures. “So, your aunt…” and he feels a hot flush spread over the tops of his cheekbones, real smooth, Joel. At least he’d waited this long. 
“She’s my mom’s sister. She’s great. The three of us live together – kind of like my second mom, I guess. Or like they take turns being mom and dad. We’ve always been together.”
“That’s great, kid. She’s great. She– she was my daughter’s teacher, I’ve known her for a while now.”
“Yeah, she really is. I punched this girl last year,” she says way too excitedly, “Bethany,” rolls her eyes, “For being a huge dick, man, like seriously, she was. And she got me out of it. Backed me up with the principal, Mr. Kwong. No one else would’ve stuck up for me that way.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Seems like her style–”
“Protective,” she snickers.
“Yeah–” 
“And good. Her and my mom, they’re a unit, the three of us. Don’t know, I’ve never seen anyone take care of each other the way they do. Sometimes…” she looks away a little shyly, “I misbehave,” she says slowly, “Like the fighting. For no reason, I guess. And I know it worries them. But I’m trying to be better, not fight as much. My friend Riley, she’s a good influence. She stops me when I get too riled up.”
“I reckon it’s a lot easier said than done, but the fact that you’re trying to be good is what counts, is what I’d say. I’m sure being thirteen is difficult,” he says a little sarcastically, but giving her the approximation of a small, warm smile.
“Fuck you, man,” she laughs, “It’s difficult as shit.” It hits him then, suddenly, that the kid just needs someone to talk to, someone other than perhaps her mother or her aunt who she knows love and worry for her so much. A third, impartial party. Joel had come here today and been able to be that for her, and as inconsequential as it may seem, after all he’s lived through, it’s everything to him. 
The teachers and school administrators begin the process of handing out the breakfast: pancakes and bacon and sausage and fruit, and Ellie tells him about her book, full of terrible puns he pretends to frown at but also can’t really help but laugh at with her, and about a comic she loves Savage Starlight. Endure and survive, she tells him, is the motto, and he can’t help but think the idea is far reaching and significant in its truth. They sit and talk and laugh together, and it’s easy, this surly kid who pretends at being angry, hiding her charm with a potty mouth and a scowl, but who’s really nothing but sweet. It makes his chest ache and his throat go tight. So much so, that after a while he needs to excuse himself. He tells her he’s going to the restroom and runs off like a coward, the devil and his memories on his heels to take a few deep breaths, a moment alone to collect himself. 
He rushes out of the cafeteria, bursting through the double doors and out into the hallway, scurrying to find a lone corner to hide himself and his shame and grief away in. He makes it to a shadowed alcove at the mouth of an empty hallway of classrooms and presses his hands to the concrete blocks of the wall, painted a soft blue color. He stares at the pockets in the aggregate and tries to take deep breaths, feels the air pass through his lungs, inflate his belly, and then back out, transformed into the world as something else. Sometimes he wishes he had the ability to transform his grief into something else – a non-memory, perhaps. Sometimes he wishes he could forget the whole thing, a terrible, selfish, disgusting thought. But pain makes terrible creatures out of us sometimes, and Joel has existed in a pool of such pain these past five hundred and sixty seven days that sometimes it’s difficult to recognize himself anymore, his desires, his goals, if he even has those anymore. Like he’d said to the kid, it’s a lot easier said than done, but the fact that you’re trying to be good is what counts, and he was trying so very hard to be good, better. 
“Joel?” That soft voice again, a shiver claws its way down his spine, and he shakes his head at the wall, letting his hot, pinched eyes fall closed. 
He coughs, trying to clear his throat, “M’fine. Just needed a second–” Coughs again. And then he feels that small hand from before, at the small of his back. You rest there, gifting him that brief, comforting touch, and he reaches behind himself to clasp you around the wrist, keep you there with him, silent for a moment while he tries and fails to collect himself. His fingers wrap entirely around your wrist and something different and hot and alive flutters deep in his belly. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t talk about it. I’m just– It’s overwhelming being here. I’m sorry. I’m okay,” he rambles. 
“It’s okay, Joel. Just take your time.” Your voice is too soft and gentle for a hard and broken thing like him. 
“She’s a good kid,” he tries and fails to keep his voice steady, comes out all hiccupped and cracked instead, and he feels you step closer, not touching him anywhere else, but he can feel the heat of you against his back. 
“She is,” you whisper.
“S’got a fuckin’ mouth on her.”
“Yeah…” You try and laugh, fail.
He cracks and splinters: “I didn’t think it would be like this coming back here… seeing you,” voice breaking, “She was sick for so long, and I knew she didn’t want to leave me. I knew she was so fucking tired, but she kept holding on just for me. And I told her it was okay, I told her to go and that I’d find her again one day, and now I don't know who I am or what I’ve become, and all I can think about every single day is that if she saw me now I worry she wouldn't recognize me anymore.”
“You’re trying, Joel. That's all that matters. I know you are. I can see it now even just here today, you being here–”
“I wish I could see her smile again, just once–” he cuts you off, not really listening. His ears filled with static noise, chest heaving. Your other hand comes to his flank, and it’s too much: this place, your touch, the kid, all of it, all of his memories and all of his grief, and he shouldn’t have come here today. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and for a second, right before he pushes you away, he squeezes your wrist tightly, as tight as he can without really hurting you, lets the heat of your skin burn him, and then lets go of you, harshly shaking you off. 
“I’m fine. I shouldn’t have come here today, I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”
“Joel–”
“Tell Ellie I’m sorry, but I have to go.” And like a fucking coward, like a man his daughter’d be ashamed of, he leaves, runs away from you and the memory of her and another child who needs something he is not equipped to give. 
He listens to the sound of your voice calling after him, and he is nothing but sorry and nothing but too much of a man he wishes he’d never been made into. 
-
You’re on your second margarita when he walks in. Trailing his brother, serious, sullen look on his handsome face. When you’d seen him this morning, after all that time, after the last time which had been so painful and so sad and so full of regret for the circumstance of it, you’d felt like your heart was about to burst through your chest. You thought about him so often, about her, more often, probably, than was warranted or healthy, but the experience of having a child such as that in your care, such a special little person, and having to witness the extinguishing of such a bright flame… Well, calling it a tragedy was entirely inadequate in the face of all it truly was. 
Anna was kind of dating the bartender that worked here, and with Ellie away at a slumber party tonight, the two of you’d decided to have a girl’s night out that you were almost certain was going to turn into a slumber party for Anna with her bartender, Ben, as well. 
You eye the two brothers as they find their spot at the far end of the bar, watch as Tommy, you remember she used to talk about him all the time, flags down Ben to order them two beers, appreciating the way Joel pulls on the glass bottle with that soft, frowning mouth of his. 
He’s so sad. There’s no other word for it. Sad and hurt and made into a sort of tragedy of a man that you wish desperately, and even though it’s not your place, that you could do something to help. The sound of him choking back tears this morning, the sight of him laughing with Ellie, she’d warmed to him immediately which was a miracle all on its own, and he is, you think, a man with so much tenderness to give that has nowhere to go now. And it is nothing but the gravest and saddest sort of tragedy. 
“Hi, Joel.” Eventually, you muster up enough courage, after one more margarita, to approach him. You think that, perhaps, he’ll be annoyed to see you again, another reminder of his past and the difficulty of the morning, but you need to just talk to him one more time. To thank him again for being so brave, to reassure him that he’d done good. Tommy’d abandoned him to brave the waters of the bar a while ago, and he turns in his stool at the sound of your voice to peer over his shoulder. You love his beard, thick and lush and so soft looking, his thick, dark curls, slightly threaded with silver at the temples, and his ridiculously broad back. He’s wearing a dark green button down that brings out the colors in his eyes, tight around the swell of his thick biceps. He’s gorgeous and so fucking hot, and he makes you feel silly with nerves and fizzy bubbles deep in your belly. 
“Hey–” he clears his throat, says your name softly, with a hint of apology. “Hey.”
“I saw you come in earlier, and I– I just wanted to come over and say hi and thank you again for this morning. It was a real nice thing of you to come today.” You try and swallow the shyness and nerves in your voice, but you’re pretty sure you fail spectacularly, can just picture Anna’s mocking giggles as she watches you twist your fingers and fidget in front of the man. 
“You already thanked me,” he says gruffly, “And besides there’s nothing really to thank me for.”
“I know, but again, or anyways,” you stutter, “And there is.” There’s absolutely no reason for these nerves, you know this man, have known him for years, “It was a good thing of you to do. Ellie really liked you–”
“You gave her my apologies, right?” He cuts you off, a thing akin to desperation and worry coloring his tone. 
“I did, don’t worry. She understood.” He looks like he wants to ask what excuse you gave her but forces himself into silence, looking down at his hands in his lap sullenly. “I don’t know… I just wanted to say thank you again.”
“Alright. And I’m sorry too, about earlier – after. I was an ass.”
“You weren’t. I shouldn’t have gone after you, should’ve given you your privacy. I’m sorry. I was nosey.”
He shakes his head, looks up at you with those hazel eyes, “No, I wanted you to come after me.” His voice is rough, like it costs him something to admit this truth to you, “Thank you.”
You have to look away, glancing back at Anna who gives you a wide, cheesy grin and a thumbs up, followed by a much more inappropriate hand gesture. You roll your eyes at her, a hot flush burning your cheeks. “That’s your brother, right? Tommy?” You turn back to him. 
“Yeah, it is… You wanna sit?” He gestures to Tommy���s empty stool. 
“She used to talk about him all the time.” You take the offered seat, nervous for a second that he’ll resent you bringing her up, react badly, but he gives a soft laugh, looking after his brother. “Yeah…” he says slowly, “They were real close.”
“That’s really nice,” you say sincerely. You catch Ben’s eye, and he nods his head at you, turning to get the two of you another round. “You two having a boys night out?”
He gives a short laugh, bringing his beer to his mouth again, pressing the lip of the bottle to his smile, “Guess he was just trying to do the same thing you are right now, distract me, make sure I’m alright or somethin’,” a quick shake of his head, and then takes another drag, and you watch the thick muscles of his neck work as he swallows. You have to look away from the sight, cross your knees together tightly, pulling down the hem of your wrap dress to keep it from riding too high. 
Ben comes around at that moment to place two shots in front of the two of you. “Here you go, baby girl,” a wink and that smarmy little smirk that makes Anna lose her head, for some inexplicable reason, “Tequila for you and your friend here.”
“Baby girl?” Joel eyes you, as you push the shot towards him. 
You roll your eyes, “Ignore him.” He takes the shot from you, fingers brushing yours briefly and you swear you feel a slight jerk move through him. You want him to want you so badly, you think suddenly. 
“Shall we?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him, and he gives you a soft laugh. 
“Seems I don’t got much of a choice,” before clinking his glass against yours, touching the base of it to the bar’s surface, and then shooting it back, not even an insinuation of a grimace as he swallows the strong alcohol, while your face puckers ridiculously. 
Gross. You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking on the lime Ben had left also. “He sweet on you or somethin’?” 
“No, not at all.”
“Huh, not so sure about that,” he eyes your sister’s boytoy almost sourly, and you get brave or reckless or something, all of a sudden, when you press right up to his ear, your breasts against his arm, emboldened by the liquor or the soft hazel of his eys, or the breadth of his shoulders when you whisper right into the peach fuzz covered shell of his ear, “He’s fucking my sister. Not me.”
He freezes, a soft, masculine sound rumbling deep in his chest before he clears his throat. He sets the glass down, and then slowly turns to face you, gripping your knee briefly as he spins on the barstool to bring your legs between the space of his spread thighs. He’s so thick everywhere. 
“Is that so?” The place on your legs where he’d gripped you burns and throbs and the other, softer place between your thighs drips and aches. You nod your head at him, temple resting in your palm propped on the edge of the bar. Ben walks by again, snagging your attention from Joel’s molten gaze, “Gimme permission to come over tonight?” he says as he passes. 
“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh after him, and you swear you feel the whisper of Joel’s touch on the curve of your bare knee again. When you turn to look back at him he’s staring down at you, a flush sitting high on his cheekbones. 
There’s something slightly bold or desperate or sad stirring inside of you, and you need to hear the sound of his voice. You wish you could make things better for him. You wish that perpetual look of grief didn’t sit so deeply embedded in his gaze all the time now. 
“You know that feeling of knowing someone, but not knowing them?” He asks you suddenly. “You and I, we’ve known each other for years. You were Sarah’s teacher, and she talked about you all the time – her last teacher – and I felt like I knew you, even though I didn’t really, not in a way that mattered, not in the way I would have liked, if I’m bein’ honest, but we knew each other peripherally. And I wanted you, all that time ago,” he laughs a boyishly shy little huff of laughter interrupting the rush of his confessed words, the crests of his cheeks flushing bright, “In that way you want someone you don't know but see all the time and want to know better. And now, it’s like… like we’re meeting again for the first time, but in a different way, in a way we’ve never met before, and yet you know so much about me already. You knew my daughter, spent time with her, you cared about her – it’s… I don’t really know what it is I’m trying to say, to be honest. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, another unsurely shy laugh, and you reach out to set your hand softly on his knee, rubbing the thick, muscular ball of it. It’s okay, you nod and shake your head at him at the same time. Confused also, with what you’re trying to convey, but knowing you want him to continue anyway. “You knew me before in a different way, and I’m not that man anymore. And I don’t know who I am now, or I’m beginning to relearn, but I’m not there just yet,” He trails off, and then softly: “Have you ever not known yourself?”
You tilt your chin slowly, watching the slow rove of the leftover tequila in the glass as you roll the base of it along the grain of the bar. “I’m… I’m not sure. Would it be very naive or arrogant or shallow to say, no? That I’ve always known myself, that even when I was lost or afraid, I was still certain of who I was, or at the very least, who I wanted to be? Like… like sometimes when you’re uncertain of the next step, or– or of what it is that you want to do next, but you still know the direction, maybe? Or what ending you’d like?” You give a brief huff of laughter, not really meaning to laugh, but expelling the air anyway, glancing down at where you’re still gripping his knee. He lays his own large paw over your much finer hand, calluses on his palm that you can feel on the back of your knuckles. “I think now we’re both, maybe, not making sense. But I think that sometimes happiness is only the peripheral thought, the peripheral ending, like obviously we all always want to end up happy. I was always open to the journey, open to the different avenues my life could take, but all I’ve ever wanted was for me and Anna, and then later, Ellie, to be okay, to be happy. Nothing else matters after that. The way I get there, the way I’d make it happen never mattered. Only that, in the end, we’re okay.”
“No… I know exactly what you mean.” His brow caves in on itself, “I know exactly what you mean because I failed at that. That was all I ever wanted too, and look at what I ended up with. She’s gone, I failed her.”
“But you didn’t, Joel,” you say with all the fervor you can pull from your heart, all the certainty you absolutely know that he’s wrong with. You bring your other hand to his other knee, leaning forward to make absolutely sure he’s understanding. “You can’t honestly say that. You’re right, I did know her, and that little girl was an exceedingly happy child. If anything, you were nothing but a triumph, and you need to hold on to that, and think of it every single day for the rest of your life. You were triumphant in that girl. Never forget it.  There is not even a shadow of failure in the memory of that child and the life she led.” And this does not seem like the appropriate environment to be having such a conversation, but you push on. His hand tightens over yours almost painfully, his blunt rough nails digging into your soft skin. “When she died – was she scared? Or peaceful?”
“She was so fucking brave,” he chokes. “She was so fucking brave. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in that heart. I’d swallowed all of it. I’d swallowed all the fear either of us could ever carry. She’s the one that held me while I fell to pieces. While I lied through my fucking teeth and told her it would be okay, that I’d be okay, that she could rest, she could go. And held me and tried to soothe me and told me she’d see me again one day, but not too soon. Eight years old, dying and comforting her father, cracking jokes. She was so fucking brave, and I’d promised her that we’d both be – that we’d both have courage and both get out of it, and in the end, I ended up being nothing but a goddamn liar.” And there are tears in his eyes, and maybe you shouldn’t and maybe you’re overstepping and maybe it’s the alcohol, but you lean forward in your barstool, that boldness and that desperation and that sadness pushing you along so that your knees are sliding further between his spread thighs to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him tightly to yourself, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, big hand coming up to cup the back of your head. 
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, even though you know the words are redundant. Even though he’s probably heard them an antagonizing amount of times. You are so sorry, and you have to tell him that you wish you could help him in some other way, that he’d not have to bear this alone, that he’d never have had to live it at all. I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m sorry that you lost your daughter, and I’m sorry you’re alone now, and I’m sorry we didn’t know each other better before, but maybe we can know each other now. I’d like to know you now more than anything else.
You feel the rattle of his wide back as he takes in a shaky breath, and you slide your hand soothingly up the broad expanse to tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck. 
“I’m sorry,” he laughs wetly into the warm space beneath your jaw, rolling his forehead against your shoulder, “I’m killing the mood,” and you feel the wet press of lips to the soft spot beneath your ear, right at the vulnerable hollow. Your heart stutters, and you shiver a syrupy sweet little jitter down the line of your vertebrae in the clutch of his arms, letting your head fall to the side to open yourself further to him, you smell good, whispered into your skin, but the two of you are sitting at the center of the crowded bar, industriously dedicated patrons hooting and hollering around you, and you can feel Anna’s nosey gaze zeroed into the back of your head so you pull away, letting your hand on the back of his head drag around along the edge of his jaw, fingernails pulling through the soft whiskers of his beard so that you can feel the snick, snick, snick of each bristle beneath your nail. 
“Let’s go outside,” you whisper, made only of boldness and desperation and want now. Wetness pooling at the center of you. 
He pulls back, and his hand slides to grip your jaw in his wide, rough hand. The architecture of you feels inconsequential and without strength or steel in his grasp. “For what?” Voice serious but also knowing, also provoking. 
“I wanna kiss you.” Might as well be honest now that you’ve got his hands on you.
“I think that if we go out there, I’m gonna do more than just kiss you. You prepared for that?”
“Yes, let’s go,” and you’re already pulling him out of his barstool before the words are even fully out. His hand goes to your elbow to steady you as your feet meet the ground, and you can’t help but give him a small laugh. “Are you okay?” Just making sure.
“Yeah, I’m okay, sweetheart. Are you?” His gaze is so warm. 
“Yes.” And you can’t help but smile widely up at him. He gives you a huff of laugh through a half crooked smile that looks a little bit like the sliver of the moon when it’s nothing but a silver crescent in the sky, hand wrapping entirely around your bicep to tug you closer. You feel a little bit out of control when you slide your hand over his belly, and his eyes go immediately dark and molten, rubbing slowly up his chest. He makes a deep, rough sound, low in his throat. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He pulls you along behind him, and as you’re making your way together out the door, you hear the sound of Anna whooping and whistling loudly behind you right before the bar door slams shut. 
He tugs you along behind him, and then passes you gently in his hands to walk in front of him as he weaves through the crowded parking lot, his wide chest, smoldering hot through his clothes, pressed up against your back, big hands wrapped around the soft of your hips. You feel him nosing into the curtain of your hair, smelling you and humming appreciatively, and you realize that he’s steering you towards the back of the parking lot, his familiar truck tucked into the far dark corner, and you twist, suddenly, in his arms, walking backwards and reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands go to the small of your back, bunching your dress in his hands tightly so that you feel the humid night air against the uppermost backs of your thighs. The look in his eyes is so dark, so wanting, and he presses you tight against his chest, your breasts squished up against the hard planes of him. He’s not even looking where he’s going, and your feet are barely touching the ground anymore as you tiptoe backwards, guided by his embrace. One of his hands comes up to grip the curve of your jaw, and then you feel the side of the truck against your back. He hoists you higher up towards his mouth, “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, and before you can even think about saying yes, yes, please, finally, he’s swallowing your breath in his mouth, eyes still slightly open to watch you as he does it, pushing his tongue into the wet gleam of you to taste everything you so desperately want to offer him. He nips at your full bottom lip, then laps at it soothingly, and you moan for him, head falling back on your neck to open further for him, cradled now in the palm of his hand. Your hands smooth down the sides of his neck and then curl to scrape your nails down his stomach, and he groans into you, one thick thigh shoving between your knees. One of his palms slides over your hip to grip the curve of your ass, the other coming up, gentle yet unyielding, to circle your throat and tip your chin up to him as he pulls back to look down at you. The hand on your ass tips your pelvis into his and pulls your core along the broad expanse of his thigh so that your pussy slowly rides the hard muscle, once, twice. “Joel–” you gasp. 
“Back seat,” he orders, tugging the truck door open and hoisting you inside. Are you really about to let this man fuck you in the back seat of his truck in a crowded parking lot? Yes, yes, you are. He follows in after you, and then slams the door shut behind him, encasing the both of you in this quiet, paused moment before he’s pulling you forward to straddle his lap, spreading his legs wide to widen your own stance perched atop him. You listen to the sound of your panting breaths as he runs his hands over your curves, squeezing and kneading as he goes, and you plant your palms on his strong chest, smoothing them down over his belly, reaching the line of his belt to tuck them inside, he growls low, leans forward to lick at your throat and you feel the tug of his fingers at the tie of your wrap dress, then the pull of the fabric as he bares you for his eyes. You pop the first few buttons of his shirt as his wet mouth moves down the thrumming line of your neck, over the wing of your clavicle to the tops of your breasts where he pulls back to take you in. You’re wearing a soft pink lace bra and a matching thong, and as his eyes move down the length of you, the fire already smoldering within seems to ricochet up to a burning inferno. There is something about the look in his eyes, compared to before, compared to the usual look, that is even more thrilling than just the fact of him gazing upon your naked body. He’s always so serious, melancholy and sad and straightforward, in a way. But taking him in like this, the way he’s looking at you now like he wants nothing more than to devour you, to push inside of you, it makes it all the headier. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, look at you,” he murmurs, smoothes his hand over your breasts, thumb catching and flicking at your nipple, down the soft swell of your belly, stopping at the little bow at the front of your thong. He pushes the sleeve of your dress over one shoulder and tugs you forwards, you feel him lift the back of your dress over the curve of your bottom, his hand following the path of bared skin, taking in the tiny scap of lace disappearing between your asscheeks, and he makes a breathy, desperate sound, “Where the fuck are the rest of your panties, little girl?” He pinches the lush of your ass, smoothes his hand down and around to cup you between your legs, and you’re sure he can feel the soaking wet there because you listen to the sound of his gasp, and then he’s pressing there, seeking out your clit and rolling gentle circles to the swollen, throbbing nub. You run your hands up his chest into his hair, gripping there, pressing your nose into the thick curls to take in the scent of him and then running them down the heavy swell of his biceps. He’s so masculine, hard in all the places you’re soft, and wet, for him. His other hand grips your hip to pull you closer, rolling you onto the thick line of his erection, and oh God, he’s big. You can tell just like this, thick and long. Your hand moves to his belt buckle, pulling at the leather and the zipper of his jeans, and then you’re slipping your fingers beneath his boxers and wrapping around the thick heft of him. “Jesus, fuck–” he gasps. 
You fist him tightly, squeezing at the thick root of his cock and sliding up to the fat head to twist there gently. His fingers move beneath the line of your panties, finally making contact with your bare skin. 
“Fucking wet little cunt. Shit, you’re soaked for me, baby.” All you can do is moan as you pull him out of his jeans. He’s heavy in your palm and your mouth waters as you take in the sight of his big cock. Thick and long, wide, drooling head an angry red verging on purple. He hooks the gusset of your panties to the side and slides the underside of the shaft through your swollen lips, pressing the fat tip to your clit, and then sliding along your slit to catch softly at your opening. “Joel, please–” you moan. The head of his cock catches again and again, and you’re so wet, coating his thick length in your slick. He reaches to pull both cups of your bra down, exposing your breasts to his gaze and when his mouth latches onto one peaked nipple, sucking sharply, his other hand wrapping around the heavy weight of your other breast you cry out, fingernails digging into his thick shoulders. You use your grip on his shoulders to drag yourself along the length of his shaft while he sucks and nips at your breasts, pulling back to gently slap the full side of one, sending a jerking shiver through you while he watches how it jiggles and sways for him. “Shit, you’re too fuckin’ pretty,” he groans, and you’re about to come just from this, just the feeling of his thick cock sliding through the lips of your sex, and you tell him so, wet mouth presses to the arch of his ear, you tell him you’re about to come, but he changes the angle, presses his hips up and then the tip of his cock is breaching the dripping mouth of your cunt, stretching you wide to take him and you both pant and gasp, burying your face in his neck as one wide hand presses at the base of your spine, forcing you to take more of that impossible length. You feel the pinch and snap of your thong around your hips as he rips the scrap of lace off of you, and you think you must shake your head or something, make some soft sound because he tuts his tongue in a gentle reprimand, “All of it, baby. The whole thing.” He squeezes your breast, strums at your nipple, presses a feather light kiss to the hinge of your jaw, and you feel your cunt flutter around him, sucking him deeper so that he can wedge that thick cock further inside of you. “Yeah… Fuck, yeah. Just like that, good girl. You asked for this, sweet girl.” You hitch and sob into his neck, clawing at his shoulders as he finally forces you down all the way onto him, buried balls deep in your weeping, fluttering pussy. “Now you’ve gotta take the whole thing, no cryin’” He sounds like he’s spitting the words through clenched teeth, struggling to get them out despite the demand of them. “You’re doing so good,” he whispers, “Taking my big cock in this tiny little cunt.” He kisses your ear, your throat, pulls back to suck on your nipples, all while his hands on your ass start to rock you on his length, working you loose and wet and pliant. 
“Fuck– fuck, Joel–” 
“I know, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it? But you can take it– deep breath, you can take it.” He fucks up into you, holding your hips steady as he feeds you his cock over and over again, and you drip down onto his balls and the leather seat beneath. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Tell me–”
“It’s so– it’s so good. Wanted it so bad–” you slur, wet cheek pressed to his shoulder, you mouth at his neck, little teeth digging into the thick line of muscle so that he’s growling, thrusting up quick and a little painful into your cunt, tip punching right at your cervix. 
“Lemme see you– I’ve gotta see you,” he says suddenly and presses you back. You reach back to plant your hands on his spread knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. His gaze is almost manic, licking over your skin, your bouncing tits as he fucks up into you, the swell of your tummy glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, down finally to the place where he’s fucking in and out of your swollen, blushed cunt, stretched obscenely around the base of him. “You’re so goddamned lucky we’re in a car right now,” he growls. He jerks you back into him, both hands squeezing your ass in each palm and rolling you hard and fast onto his impaling cock, your swollen clit presses into his pelvis on every thrust in, and you feel your cunt pull tight and then go loose as you start to come around him. Yes, yes, yes, fuck, yes – just like that. His cock kissing your g-spot with every press inside. You sob into his neck, pull at his hair, scratch at his shoulders and neck as you gush around him. 
He surges up then, orgasm not entirely abated, and flips you over onto your back, laying you down on the truck’s bench. He pulls his dripping cock out of your still grasping clutch to kneel down on the floorboard, hulking form entirely too large to fit in the tight space, and drags the broad, flat of his tongue through your drenched sex, tasting the echoes and throbs of your climax, sucking your clit and your come into his mouth while you sob up into the roof of his truck. He pushes your knees up to your chest, displaying you for himself entirely and devours you. “Fuck, there ain’t enough room in this fuckin’ truck to eat your cunt the way I need to,” his accent suddenly heavier, a sharper twang cutting off the end of his words, lost to the taste of you and the feel of you and the scent of you. You lean up onto your elbows, sweaty face burning bright hot with shyness as you take in the sight of his mouth wrapped around your clit, lapping at your leaking sex. He looks up at you, reaches up to wrap one hand around your breast, one of your legs is hanging down the length of his back over his shoulder, the other hooked at the bend of his elbow to keep you open and spread wide for him, and the two of you hold gazes for a moment. His eyes flash with something… different to desire or lust, something more in tune with whatever it is that’s happening here between the two of you right now, something more than just a quick fuck. You whisper his name, and his eyes flash again, predatory and desperate, and he’s pushing up, the wet sound of his mouth unlatching from your pussy and crawling back up onto the seat bench, pressing his slick wet mouth to yours and licking into you, sloppy. “Taste–” he orders, he pulls back, fists the root of his cock and feeds it back into your gaping cunt, “That’s what it tastes like when you come for me.” His voice is a growl, something like a commandment or a promise, something else that hums beneath the mere words, something that says this is happening again, I need this to happen again, I’ve wanted this longer than I can say. He fucks into the very end of you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, let him maneuver and manhandle you to his liking so that both of your ankles lay limply over his shoulders, pressed entirely in half for him to pound into you. 
“Open your fucking eyes,” he pants. “Look at me,” he begs. You do, and you watch a bead of sweat roll slowly down his temple, over the curve of his jaw to the point of his chin, and then drip and splash down onto the swell of your breast, seep into your skin. 
He’s so deep like this, right at the heart of you, and it hurts and it feels good and you can’t help but think about the next time already, hope that this can happen again. “Yes, Joel,” you gasp, “Please, don’t stop.”
“Yeah?” He grits, lifting one hand to hold on to the edge of the window above your head, the other gripping at your ass to pull you onto him harder. “Yeah, just like that– Taking me so well, baby. Taking the whole thing like such a good girl.” He’s so big, maybe too big, and he pounds into your cunt, forces you to take the entire thing, thick thighs bracketing your frame, cock punching at your womb over and over again. You feel cock drunk, Joel drunk, and you turn your face to press into the back of the seat crying, telling him you’re about to come again. 
“God, yes, yes, you’re such a good girl. Come on my cock again, one more time for me.” His thrusts speed up, harsher, stronger and he’s saying your name while you sob out his, while you leak around him. “Hey,” he grips your jaw, gives your head a little shake, “Hey, baby– you gotta tell me where. Where can I come? Inside? Can I come inside?” It sounds, a little bit, like he’s beginning. 
You nod your head, yes, gaze delirious, unfocused, the swell of his anchoring bicep is so thick and distracting, and you start to milk his thrusting cock inside of you, muscles squeezing tight, fluttering loose – please, please, please, come inside of me, please, I want it so bad. He groans, grits a curse, your name, something that sounds like gratitude, and then he’s filling you, thick cock kicking and jerking and spitting his come right at the mouth of your womb, inciting your own orgasm to throb again, again, harder, deeper. 
-
He drops his head to the damp crook of your shoulder, takes in the heady scent of your sweat and sex, licks a path up the side of your throat. He’s careful not to ask you to bear the full, heavy weight of him, and he pulls his hips back, shivering at the sensitive slide of his spent cock falling from your wet cunt. He sits back, grasps your knees to keep you spread and watches the flutter and clench of your hole as the thick white leak of his spend starts to drool out of you. He gives a low, appreciative hum, and then bends forwards to press his face into your tummy, nuzzling there softly. Your hands come to his hair, panting chest heaving, and he mouths and sucks at the skin of your stomach, the undersides of your breasts as you both catch your breaths. He looks up, then, suddenly, a thought occurring to him, “You’re going to have dinner with me, right?” Voice a little frantic. 
You give him a slow, lovely smile, eyes sparkling, “Think we’ve gone and done things a little out of order here, haven’t we?”
He frowns in mock severity, then presses his face back into your tummy, another soft kiss, and shakes his head slowly, “No,” another kiss, this one to your hip, “Not at all. This morning counts as breakfast together.” He looks up to give you a quick, boyish grin. “How I see it, that’s actually an extreme dedication to order. Breakfast, sex, dinner.”
You sigh, laugh softly, “You know… I’m actually a little hungry right now,” you say contemplatively.
“Burgers? Fries?”
“Milkshake?”
“Well, we’ve gotta have somethin’ to dip ‘em in, right?”
“Of course.” Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling him up towards your mouth, “You’re so smart.”
“Very true. You’ve gotta stick with me now, I’ll teach you everything I know.” A kiss, another and another. 
He rests his face back on your belly, looking up at you, and you run the pad of your thumb over the fan of his lashes, and he feels so happy. 
-
It’s been months since then… and still even now, when he looks at you, all he knows is that he’s sure you saved his fucking life. 
Netherfeildren's Masterlist
Updates Blog : Follow and turn on notifications for new fics!
993 notes · View notes
earthtooz · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
x : BIRTHDAY WISHES ! :*+゚
in which: you get your own surprise on todoroki shouto's birthday.
warnings: FLUFF! 1.8k words or so of it, reader gives deku the middle finger for funsies, BAD WRITING like when I SAY BAD I MEAN C-TIER AT BEST, shouto deserves better but i wanted to get this out in time for his birthday :(, kissing (oh my god... so scandalous), food cw
a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TODOROKI WHO WILL ALWAYS BE #1 IN MY HEART. that's all i have to say, try to enjoy!
Tumblr media
you're the first person to wish todoroki shouto happy birthday.
in fact, you've even taken the responsibility of driving to todoroki's residence, ringing his doorbell at exactly 11:55 pm, and greeting him with a sheepish grin when threw open the door a little too excitedly.
"hi," you whisper, holding three bags in two hands; one of them much smaller. it's thanks to the packaging that todoroki realises that it is cake, and the bakery-provided candles beside it are a given.
"hello," he greets back, stepping aside so he could let you into his toasty apartment (well- penthouse, really). "what brings you here?"
"you complaining?"
"not at all," the dual-quirk hero steps towards you to help rid you of your layers. he hangs your scarf and coat on the hanger by the entrance. "i'm just curious why you would sacrifice some much-needed rest for me."
"don't be ridiculous, shouto. it's what friends do."
friends. todoroki doesn't like the way that word sounds on your lips, especially when it's addressed to him.
before he can voice any of the distasteful feelings brewing within, you rush into his kitchen, exclaiming something along the lines of 'i'm almost out of time!' before leaving todoroki to dawdle after you. he does nothing but watch as you take the cake out of its box and stick a few candles in, lighting them with matches you brought yourself despite there being a six foot something tall matchstick right beside you.
your appearance is sudden, but not unwelcome. he likes how at home you seem, how normal it feels to have you beside him to celebrate another milestone of his life.
when you check your phone for the time, you exclaim a little in delight, noting that the time now read: 12:00, january 11.
"happy birthday, shouto!" you exclaim, clapping quietly out of excitement whilst todoroki looks at you with an affectionate smile. one that makes you melt a little, and you fear you'll soon be no better than the candles dripping their wax onto the icing of the cake.
"not gonna sing happy birthday for me?" he asks cheekily.
you scoff, a little embarrassed to sing in front of him alone. if it's anything that will deter todoroki, it'll be your singing. "ask one more time and i'll pack up and leave."
his low chuckle reverberates. "i wouldn't want you doing that." todoroki clasps his hands together, closing his eyes before blowing out the candles in one, swift breath.
"thank you, y/n," he says, sincerity lacing his tone. "it means a lot that you'd go out of your way to do this for me."
"of course," you say, handing him a classic, bakery-issued plastic knife. "anything to make your birthday memorable, shouto."
your sentence means a lot more to him than you'd think.
sharing cake with todoroki shouto at 12:04 am when you both had patrol in eight or so hours was not a point in life you'd ever anticipate being at. as you talk, you try your best to burn this moment into your memory, unsure of when you'd ever be this vulnerable with him again.
todoroki, on the other, non-existentialist hand, was comparing the sweetness of your laughter to the icing of the cake. a sound worthy of giving him another sugar rush, he concludes.
"i did beat everyone to wishing you a happy birthday, right?"
he hums in contemplation at your question, "most likely. let me check my messages."
as your dual-quirked friend fishes for his phone from his pocket, you try not to ogle at his beauty. it's unfair how good he looks, even under the harsh lighting of his kitchen, dressed in his silk pajamas that look irresistibly comfortable. from custom-installed tatami mats flooring every inch of his home to silk sleepwear, todoroki really adores snug things.
"fuyumi, natsuo, and midoriya all wished me happy birthday. midoriya texted at 12 exactly so i'm not too sure who won between you two," he informs you.
"midoriya, hm?" you mutter. "can i text him from your phone?"
"sure."
when he hands over his unlocked phone, you immediately click on the camera button, angling the device so it would be a selfie of you and todoroki. except you direct an unceremonious middle finger to the green-haired hero, sending the photo with the message 'beat you to it'.
"that was rude," todoroki teases, the small smile on his face telling you that he didn't mean any malice behind it. you give him back his phone, a small smirk on his face.
"he'll live," you joke. seriously, you've known midoriya way too long now to get petty over a middle finger. "i got you some presents."
"can i open them now?"
"yeah of course!" reaching for the bags at your feet, you present your first one to him which was, mostly, a gag gift that you couldn't resist buying when you saw it. some part of you genuinely hopes that he'll appreciate it though.
when peeking into the paper bag, todoroki's eyebrows crease in confusion, and it wasn't until he fished it out that his confusion turned into delight.
"where did you get this?" he asks, inspecting it as he holds in up in his arms.
"a local hero merch store!" you begin, unable to contain your giggles. "did you know that a recent toy campaign turned some of you guys into cats? it was so weird- i thought it was a little odd at least, but yours is adorable!"
seeing todoroki, the mystical, dreamy, and devastatingly handsome public figure of the century, hug the plush so innocently in his arms was giving you a rush of serotonin. the resemblance was uncanny too, the cat had a white base with a fair amount of red spots dotting it; kind of like a calico design but only with one colour. the best part was that the cat was seated in a perfect loaf position and if that wasn't todoroki shouto as a cat, you'd be lying to yourself.
unable to resist taking a picture, you're almost tempted to save it as a home screen because of how pure and wholesome he was.
just wait til 'people' magazine sees this photo of their undefeated 'sexiest man alive' recipient.
"isn't it cute?" you questioned, "i was almost tempted to buy one for myself."
"this is really fun to hug." for good measure, he squeezes it in his vice grip twice, grinning whilst doing so. you pretend to ignore the way his biceps flex, stretching his silk sleepwear.
"you should have seen bakugou and midoriya's. bakugou's was so funny, the manufacturer really captured his energy. midoriya's was also really cute- all three were just straight up adorable."
"was mine better than theirs?"
"of course, shouto. anyways, i just thought it'd be funny to give you, if you don't like it then-"
"-i do like it. you gave it to me."
this man is bad for your health. you had to pinch yourself to not scream from how charming he was. one sentence and you're practically gone- it's pathetic.
"okay!" you exclaim, trying to wave away how flustered your face felt from that one comment. "second and last gift!"
placing the cat plushie on the counter, todoroki accepts the gift bag you shove in his direction rather readily, furrowing his eyebrows once again as he goes to pull out the contents. does he know about his 'eyebrow' habit?
"you haven't decorated your place much since you moved in so," you begin justifying, feeling impatient, "i wanted to take the liberty of giving you a few things to decorate your home with."
four photo frames appear in his hands and he takes the time to study all of them carefully. they were all filled with photos of him with friends which you got printed.
you stand rooted to your spot with anxiety bubbling in your stomach at how he'll receive your idea. you hope he liked it - todoroki has never been one for sentimental or daring gifts so you hoped this one wasn't too out of the box.
at his silence, you begin to grow more apprehensive, walking over so you could look at the photos too. "there's more photos in the bag if you don't like the ones i chose-"
"-i love them. you're really thoughtful, y/n."
"am i?" you blabber.
"yeah. these are nice memories. this one of iida, midoriya and i at graduation is making me nostalgic," he mumbles, "but my favourite has to be this one."
todoroki shows you the picture in question and your heart stops beating for a moment. it's one of you and him together from when you went to go see the cherry blossoms bloom. uraraka took the photo if you remember correctly. it's one of your most loved photos.
"i really like this one of us," he comments, reading your thoughts. "i'm glad that i can have this in my house now. these frames are all nice additions, i didn't think i needed them. thank you, y/n, really."
he looks up at you with such fondness it almost has you throwing up, your heart ready to leap out of your chest and land straight in todoroki's hands to begin serenading him. you do, after all, owe singing him the 'happy birthday' song.
then, he unexpectedly stands up, somehow manoeuvring you so that your back was now pressed against the countertop with him hovering in front of you. your escape (not that you needed it) was now blocked by his overwhelming figure.
should you be terrified? because you are. delightfully so.
"there's one more gift i'd like to ask of you," begins todoroki shyly, leaning his hands on either side of you. "if you wouldn't mind."
you were going to explode. combust. erupt. literally detonate and paint his walls with a silly shade of love.
"a little selfish tonight, are we?" you tease, trying your best to keep your cool and- if he kept leaning in closer you were actually going to freak out so if he knew what's best for him he'd-
"can you blame me? it is my birthday after all."
"what do you need?"
the way his eyes glance down to your lips provides an immediate answer. you know he hears your breath hitch because this jester has the nerve to smirk despite the anticipation weighing down the atmosphere.
todoroki's face is millimetres away from yours when he suddenly pauses, his warm hand going to grab your face as he whispers an 'is this okay?' and your only sane response is to kiss him silly.
it's a gentle meeting of souls. not hurried or rushed, simply two humans trying to explore the other in ways deeper than anything physical. with the way todoroki's other hand roam from your waist to your hip, you can tell he is analysing how to support and hold you in the most gentle way possible, studying you like no other can.
with the same passion, your arms wrap around his neck, hand gently tugging at the hairs on the back of his head. the sensation makes him smile. his smile feels unreal against you and you suppose that this a luxury many won't get in their lifetime, not even you can recall how you got here. you just hope he understands how much adoration you have for him.
you want to uncover and understand more of the enigma that is todoroki shouto, but, as you separate from his embrace with the desire for air, you realise that you now have all the time in the world.
"you shouldn't be going home at this hour. it's dangerous," todoroki comments, briefly breaking the dreamy state of your mind.
you chuckle quietly. "i'm a full-fledged hero, shouto. danger should be scared of me," you boast, slightly unsure of how credible your statement is, but your confidence makes the dual-quirked hero smile.
"that's true, but still. won't you stay with me?"
after a faux moment of deliberation, you give in to his pleas with a nod, causing him to smile gently as he begins to lean in again.
before your lips could meet again, todoroki whispers something against them.
"birthday wishes do come true."
2K notes · View notes
psychhound · 2 months
Text
d&d 5e languages and gender
i know this is already a very nerdy blog but please indulge me a moment,,
for my homegame i've been fleshing out how different languages in the game deal with gender / pronouns based on their cultures (some of them are canon languages but some are for our setting) and it made the little nerd in me very happy so i wanted to make some headcanons for the rest of the dnd languages and share it for anyone who'd like to steal / take inspo
feel absolutely free to use these in homegames but if you use for anything streamed or for your own ttrpg/homebrew/fics then crediting/linking back is appreciated :o)
disclaimer: this blog is run by a genderqueer trans man and any queerphobic interaction will immediately be blocked
common
common started off with the standard he, she, & they pronouns but simply Loves a good loanword and so its not uncommon to hear people using pronouns from other languages in otherwise entirely common dialogue. there is some Fighting about whether this is appropriative based on the individuals culture or whether its unfair to people who only speak common to keep up with them all
dwarvish
not too much variety in what most people would consider pronouns, it tends to be more one singular neutral pronoun for someone you don't know / don't know well, and then variations that are more like honorifics than anything else. their pronoun might translate more readily to "skilled with a hammer" than anything regarding a gender
elvish
lots of pronoun options that explore different presentations of gender but they are also age/experience locked. a feminine male elf would use different pronouns as a child, teen, young adult, young adult with job, middle age, middle aged with children, etc. using pronouns from a different life experience bracket from you is incredibly frowned upon and people just dont do it
giant
there is one pronoun for giants & kin and one pronoun for not giants and the one for not giants is not derogatory at all, its just used to differentiate who is part of the family or not (individuals adopted by giants tend to use the giant pronoun)
gnomish
LOTS of variation in pronouns. gnomes love inventing new pronouns. there are general grammatical rules that they follow to Signify that its a pronoun but hearing three new pronouns a day is like. not uncommon. lots of gnomish teens go through a phase of making up at least four new pronouns they want to go by. uncommon to only go by one set. typically introduced along with your name
(more under the cut)
goblin
no gendered pronouns, all pronouns are instead structured around relations between individuals. so one person would use brother pronoun with one person, son pronoun with another, best friend pronoun to another. the family pronouns are not locked to actual family, just what the relationship is like. if you don't know someone well, its "cousin", "niece/nephew", "auntie/uncle", or "grandparent" depending on their age
halfling
pronouns are split between public and private use. in general in the community or with outsiders, there's a single pronoun that translates loosely to "friend". actual individual pronouns are only known to and used with close friends and family. there's a small handful of them and only some of them have gendered connotations
orc
there are only four categories of pronouns: masculine, feminine, both/mixed, and neither. but there's a decent amount of variations because there are varying levels of formality for each of them. there are ways to conjugate them so they're more formal and respectful, but also lots of diminutives to make them more affectionate and closely-bonded
abyssal
no use of pronouns. lots of very specific derogatory terms that are used in place of them. i shant elaborate.
celestial
lots of variations in pronouns. they are not very closely tied to gender, but are tied to very specific aesthetics. instead of having individual pronoun words, in celestial you just use root words. so one person might use the root word for things that are soft and gentle and natural for their pronoun, while another person might use the root word for things associated with dark and murky and mysterious things for theirs. tend to be tied to domains
draconic
no use of pronouns, only names and titles. if you happen to share a name with another individual who speaks draconic, you would need a unique title to go after it. the full name and full title is said at every reference of someone
deep speech
deep speech has pronouns probably but hearing them for any individual you dont share a close identity group with makes you violently nauseous and then the word immediately leaves your mind so it's just really hard to learn them
infernal
there are words for "you", "me", "us", "we", "this one", "that one", "those ones" etc but no classic pronouns as far as individual usage goes. if someone really needs to be specific they would use whatever pronoun that individual uses in their native language. tieflings have introduced a Lot of neopronouns into infernal but theyre all borrowed from other languages and then reworked into infernal grammar and tend to be localized to communities
primordial
individuals are referred to their elemental type (or "none") rather than pronouns tied to gender. so it would be more like "the windy one" or "the rocky one" than anything like he or she
sylvan
no standard gendered pronouns, it's entirely nounself. so basically infinite amount of pronouns that are easily understood by anyone familiar with that noun. so you would have things like pebble pronoun, teapot pronoun, sword pronoun, with some general affiliations with presentation but less so with gender
undercommon
pronouns are based on level of respect and not gender, but there are also pronouns specifically used for children. like craftsmen would typically all use the same pronoun unless one was incredibly successful and respected, or had a very bad reputation, etc. there are pronouns used only for royalty and pronouns used only for deities
speak with animals
when translated into common, tends to just be translated as the animal's bio sex, but it can go a little screwy when speaking about creatures who have biological sexes so outside the humanoid concept of sex and gender that even magic dont fuckin know how to translate it. kind of just makes a weird bubbly noise in its place
if you read this far thank you thank you and if you end up using these in your campaign lore or fics i would love to know :o)
141 notes · View notes
seresinhangmanjake · 2 years
Text
Touch and Go
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Jake had been sleeping together for months, and as sure as you were of your feelings for him, you were unsure of his for you. He, however, certainly knew how he felt about you, and after you decide to go on a long trip without telling him, he lets you know just exactly what’s on his mind.
Notes/warnings: 18+ (No Minors!) public smut, fingering, angsty-ish stuff, fluffiness, love confessing and all that, self-doubt, insecurities, cursing-type language, best-bud Rooster (not really a warning but I love him). This was not supposed to be this long at all, but ya know, things happen and unexpected stuff (smut) weasels its way into your careful plans without permission, which I personally think is rude, but here we are.
Words: 4101
-----
The moment you realized you had fallen in love with Jake “Hangman” Seresin, you were disappointed in yourself for an entire three months. The relentless teasing and flirting had worn you down, and while he didn’t seem to know he succeeded in making you feel something for him, it made that fact no less true.
But you didn’t know if he felt something for you. Sure, he showed his hatred when other men approached you with some suggestive smirks on their lips, but you always figured that was more of a possessive tick so that he could keep his fuck-buddy his fuck-buddy, and no one else’s. You knew how unfair it was of him to expect you to stay by his side while he went around flirting with anything that had an ass and decent tits, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. If he wanted you, he had you, at any time, any place, and you felt like an idiot for it.
When you first met, his flirting irritated you to no end. Being friends Rooster and Phoenix quickly brought you into the little group of pilots, and it took all of thirty seconds for Jake to descend upon you with his winks, and grins, and appreciative stares that traveled up and down the form of your body.
Back then, his attitude and cockiness repulsed you. For weeks you did your best to stay away from him, but he always managed to find you, pulling out his charms in full force until the day came when you started to find them less annoying and more exciting. And after you started sleeping together, being around him was something you couldn’t stop yourself from craving. It wasn’t just his cock that made you surrender every time he asked if he could come over to your house, it was the way he was with you after. Once you were both sated, laying next to each other with heavy breaths in sync, he would roll over on the mattress, wrap his arm around your waist, and tug you closer until your back was to his chest. Then he’d kiss your exposed shoulder and nuzzle his nose against the line of your neck before passing out.
Those nights, often as they were, began to make you think he had some variation of feelings for you, but the mornings would come and he’d be gone. You’d banish all hopeful thoughts of mutual affection until the next day when the two of you found one another again and repeated the same little game.
Tumblr media
“Ok, Y/N,” Rooster stressed your name as he tried to block every path you could take to get to the dresser in your bedroom. Every step you took he’d sidestep and create a muscled wall before you; over and over again until you threw your duffel bag on the ground with a loud groan. “Y/N, you really can’t leave right now.”
You plopped back on your bed, rubbing your hands up and down your face as the pilot stared at you. “Why the hell not?”
“Because he will lose his shit, and you know it,” Rooster said. “Why, Y/N! Why on God’s green earth would you want me to suffer like that?”
“You,” you snapped. “How would you be suffering?”
Rooster rose his muscled arms in disbelief before letting them fall back into place, slapping against the outside of his jean-clad thighs with a clap. “You’re kidding me, right? He’s annoying as shit when he gets like this. He’s going to be a total ass. He’ll be so agitated in the sky that he’ll be shooting all of us down left and right. We’ll be doing push-ups until the end of next week!”
Raising an eyebrow, your head tilted in consideration. “Maybe you guys should stop playing that game then.”
“You’re really missing the point here, Y/N.”
But you weren’t. You knew what Rooster was getting at, what everyone had been getting at for months. They all had some theory that whenever you went out of town, even if just for a night or two, Hangman became even more of an arrogant, selfish prick than he already was. You, however, knew that Jake, regardless of how easily he could snap his fingers and find a woman in his bed, just didn’t want the annoyance of having his go-to sex partner out of arms reach.
“Look, it’s not even just about today,” Rooster continued. “We have a mission in sixteen days—not exactly a simple one—and if you’re not here when—”
You held up your hand to stop him. “Don’t finish that sentence, Rooster. My presence does not affect his ability to do his job.”
“You’ve never been gone when we’ve had to go on a mission,” he said, and he looked at you like those words should have been enough to make you understand the severity of the situation, but you just shrugged.
“Rooster, one does not have to do with the other. For whatever reason, you’re seeing something that is not there. I—” you put a hand on your chest “—am not an emotional pillar for Jake Seresin.”
“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled. Leaning back against your dresser with arms crossed, Rooster’s lips pursed in dissatisfaction. “How long are you going to be gone again?”
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “A month.”
He straightened his form and dropped his arms. “A month?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re killing me,” Rooster whimpered, but when you didn’t respond, he said, “You’re going to say goodbye, right?”
You stood and snatched your duffel off the ground then gently shoved your friend to the side so you could grab some underwear to toss in the bag. “I said goodbye to everyone last night at the bar.”
“Not to him.”
You shrugged again, “Well, he wasn’t there. He was probably busy with some other woman I’m sure he picked up.”
“Other woman?” Rooster’s eyebrows pinched. “Y/N, Hangman doesn’t hav—”
“Rooster, I don’t want to talk about this right now,” you said with a soft smile before you inched up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “I have to catch a plane, and in order to catch that plane, I need to pack, and in order to pack—”
His lips thinned but then his head dropped and he said, “You need me to leave.”
“I do.” You nodded. “And I mean it in the most loving way possible.”
“If you loved me, cared about my well-being and that of the rest of the team, you wouldn’t go.”
You didn’t like the concern on his face. It created a swirling feeling in your gut. “I need a break,” you said, “from here. Just a little one, and then I’ll be back.”
Tumblr media
The whole team had watched Hangman relentlessly attack a punching bag for the better half of the afternoon. The grunts he made in time with the smacks of fist against bag filled the room with an angry echo that cleared out every other pilot in the gym, with the exception of Phoenix and Rooster, who both observed the cocky blond with an eye of curiosity.
“What’s with him,” Phoenix asked as they watched Hangman attempt to release his aggression.
“Other than the usual?” Rooster snickered, but then his features straightened, and he said, “Y/N left this morning and didn’t tell him.”
“What?” The brunette faced him fast with a smack to his bicep that Rooster immediately rubbed at. “Why?”
Rooster knew exactly why; well, once he put the pieces together, he did. What he and the team eventually learned to see in Hangman, you had not. They knew that the moment he met you his womanizing days were over, but somehow, that was a change in him you couldn’t see for yourself. The irritating blond pilot was in love with you, and everyone within a ten-mile radius could vouch for that, but after Rooster’s chat with you that morning, he knew you had no idea. He knew there was something holding you back from seeing the truth.
Rooster sighed. “Because those two have very different perspectives of their relationship.”
Tumblr media
Rooster expected a lot after their day of training ended. He expected the group to head to the Hard Deck for some drinks, which they did. He expected Payback and Phoenix to pick up where they left off in their little pool competition, which resumed the moment the table was in sight. He expected Hangman to be moping, features twisted in agitation as he drowned himself in one too many beers, which he was certainly on his way to accomplishing. What he didn’t expect was to see your face, but there you were, shuffling through the front door.
When you walked in the bar, he immediately took in the state of your posture, your shoulders rolled over a little more than usual. The hollows under your eyes where darker and your hair slightly mussed. You looked miserable, exhausted, and Rooster didn’t let another beat pass before he was setting his beer down and quickly making his way over to you.
You released a heavy breath at the sight of a friendly face and he wrapped you up in his arms.
“What’s up, kid,” he asked, his eyebrows drawn in concern when he pulled back to closer examine the dulled look in your Y/E/C eyes. “What are you doing here?”
With a hand on your lower back, he led you over to the bar, and when Penny looked at him, silently asking if you needed a drink, he nodded then sat in the stool next to yours.
“I thought you left like, ten hours ago.”
Your neck craned forward and you rubbed at your forehead, thanking Penny when she set a fresh beer in front of you. Taking a generous sip, you said, “Flight got canceled. I spent all day at the airport before I decided to give up.”
“I’m sorry.” Rooster ran a comforting hand up and down your back. “When you finish that,” he nudged his head towards your drink, “do you want to go somewhere else? I’ll take you wherever you want.”
Impressively, you downed the rest of the beer, slammed it down on the counter, and hopped up out of your seat. “I’m ready now.”
Rooster chuckled. “Alright, let me just go let the group know I’m leaving.”
Nodding, you stayed put as Rooster wove through body after body until he reached his team.
“Guys, I’m heading out.”
“Already,” Phoenix asked.
“Yea,” Rooster stretched the word, and he quickly scanned the area for the blond pilot, but without him in view, he looked back to the group. “Y/N’s here.”
Bob beamed at your name. “She didn’t go?”
The confirmation was on his lips, but Rooster couldn’t get the word out before Hangman appeared and said, “Who?”
The pilots all looked at one another with questioning glances, one not knowing more than another who should speak first. But then Phoenix rolled her eyes. ‘’We have to tell him,” she said.
Of all, Rooster wasn’t surprised Phoenix would feel such a way. She was the first to notice when Hangman’s suggestive stares gave way to ones of desperate longing. She was the one to nudge his shoulder with hers and tell him that he was bound to look like a creep if he kept watching you the way he was whenever you were in the same room. She was also the one to tell him to get his shit together if he had genuine feelings for you, which clearly, to everyone but you, he figured out how to do.
He was always by your side the moment you entered into his sights. Unless he was playing pool, his arm was glued to your waist. Every time he would sit down, his first move was to pull you onto his lap. And Phoenix felt a certain level of pride in knowing that she got the cockiest pilot at Top Gun to show his true feelings.
So, it was no shock that when no one made a move to contradict her, she turned her head to meet Hangman’s stare, and stated rather directly, “Y/N’s here.”
“What!” The surprise had him standing a little straighter. Rooster knew his own expression, once Hangman glanced at him, would all but prove the truth: that you were here, you were forty feet away, hidden by masses of bodies in the bar, and you had no intention of seeing him. “Where is she, Rooster?”
He groaned at Rooster’s hesitation, and without waiting for a response, started to move in the only direction you could have been, eyes shifting around the other bar patrons as he tried to spot you amongst the crowd.
Rooster put a hand on Hangman’s chest to stop him, receiving an intense scowl in return that easily could have burned through to the back of his skull. A piece of him felt the guilt of it, of keeping a man away from the woman he loved, especially knowing the circumstances of the misunderstandings between you. But to Rooster, you came first. If you weren’t going to mention seeing Hangman, then he wasn’t going to force the subject. “She’s tired right now.”
“Too damn bad,” he growled and shoved Rooster’s hand off him.
The group watched Hangman weave his way through the room until the top of his blond hair blended in with every other head in the bar.
Phoenix shot Rooster a glance when the latter hadn’t followed after their teammate. “I’m surprised you’re not going to intervene.”
He shook his head, and a moment later as he watched Hangman lead you out the door onto the beach, he said, “It’s probably time they sort this one out for themselves.”
Tumblr media
The second the humid, salty air hit your face, Jake released your hand. You stopped in your tracks in the sand, but he kept walking, and he made it all of ten feet before he whipped around to face you, anger taking root in his stare.
“You just—” he began, but then he paused, ran a hand down his face, and turned towards the water again.
You took a tentative step forward. “Jake—”
“Don’t,” he snapped at the sea, but then he was once again twisting in his spot and meeting your eyes. “I mean, what the actual fuck, Y/N.” His tone was just short of soft, your name falling from his lips like a hopeless plea for understanding. “How could you just—for a damn month?”
You felt yourself flushing from chest to cheeks and your eyes couldn’t help but lower to the sand beneath your feet.
“No, none of that,” he said, then his hands were on either side of your face, tilting your head up. “Look at me. Y/N, look at me.”
Slowly, you dragged your eyes up to meet his. Were he not holding you, you would’ve shied under the intensity of his gaze. Something swirled within the green of his irises, an uncertainty that was asking for relief.
“Do you have any feelings for me at all,” he asked.
“W-What?” Your voice cracked around the word. The last question you ever imagined coming out of his mouth he asked with such a surety that it nearly shoved you back a step, and his eyes averted at the reaction you failed to conceal.  
“Just—” he released you and scratched at the back of his neck, “If you don’t, I want you to tell me now, because—fuck, we’ve been sleeping together for something like two-thirds of a year, so I thought…”
He began to turn away, taking a handful of steps before he paused and left you with only the profile of his face, it more defined by the background of the near pitch-black beach behind him. His hands rested on his hips and he opened his mouth to speak, but instead a laugh came out in the form of a deep huff.
“You thought what, Jake,” you pressed, a piece of you strengthening in his silence. You needed to know. You needed it like you needed your next breath. “Jake,” you called a little louder.
“Forget it—I don’t know.”
“Then why did you bring me out here?”
He shook his head to himself and lightly groaned before staring at you. That look was back in his eyes, that uncertainty; a sudden lack of confidence so unexpected in a man like him. He’d never shown a vulnerability outside of the four walls of your bedroom, and even then, you weren’t sure you could call it that. Two months into sleeping together, he switched, became soft, gentle in a way that stunned you, but that air of cockiness never fully left him. Now it seemed…different, altered by his own will, as if he knew that you needed to see it in him. Then he said,
“I love you, Y/N.”
Your lips parted just barely.
“I’m in love with you.” He walked towards you in sure, stable strides. Not the way you would have had you just confessed the same. You wouldn’t make the short distance with your knees that wobbled so traitorously you could barely stand as it was.
His hand rose to cup your cheek, hovering by your face for a moment before it dropped back to his side.
“I can never tell what’s going on in that damn head of yours,” he said, “So I never said anything. But I thought you at least felt enough for me to let me know if you were planning to disappear for a month.”
“I—” you swallowed. “I don’t understand.” And you truly didn’t, no matter how much you wanted to. Your brain overworked to collect a million memories you were sure were buried in the crevices of your mind, ones of him that would now prove himself wrong; ones of him flirting with other women since you started sleeping together, or ones where he acted like he didn’t want to be with you, but you couldn’t find them; nothing was there but the nagging piece that convinced you he didn’t care for you no matter how lost in that dream you ever let yourself get. “You—You’re always gone when I wake up. You never stay.”
“You never ask me to” he said, weakness in his tone. “I sneak out every morning before you wake up. I worry you think I will have crossed a line because you never tell me you want me to stay with you.”
You waited for him to take it back, tell you it was a cruel joke, but it didn’t come. He just stood there, patiently.
“Oh,” came out in a breathy whisper, “God.”
And before you had another second to think, you put your hands at the back of his neck, pulled him down and kissed him. If it surprised him, you couldn’t tell. His arms were instantly around your waist, tugging your body flush against his as his lips moved with yours.
You couldn’t feel anything but him, and you wanted him…now, your better judgement neglecting the fact that a bar full of people, if they had the half-thought to look out the windows or door, would have a front row seat to everything. But you didn’t care. You wanted him on top of you, your bodies in the sand, cooled only by the night breezes carried by the sea. You wanted his skin touching yours, his lips marking you with possessive kisses, his fingers inside of you, stretching and preparing you for the moment he replaced them with his cock. You wanted him to fuck you until you were crying from the mix of pleasure and the fresh understanding that you had his love. And by the way his hands started to sneak their way under your tee, he wasn’t doing much better at holding back from wanting the same.
You stepped backwards, mouths still connected as you slowly led him out of the direct light from the bar and closer to the shadows that lined the edge of the building. One of his hands slipped into the front of your leggings, through the slickness of your folds before he shoved two fingers inside of you.
Your kiss broke as a gasp fell from your lips and you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck to keep from collapsing. You breathed unsteadily into the crook of his neck, and it was only when he felt your fingers start to weave through the ends of his hair that he began to pump his own in and out, in and out, curling to hit that spot inside you that made your legs quiver.
“There we go, sweetheart,” he whispered, then turned his head to nuzzle his nose against your cheek.
It never took much to get you to cum for him. Knowing he was the one making you feel so good made everything that much more intense. He knew your body, knew your moans and sighs and cries. He could play with you and make you sing for him. And right now, you were putty in his arms, but you wanted more than his fingers.
“Jake,” you whimpered, and by the way he hummed in response you knew he had a smirk on his handsome face. “Please.”
He paused his movements and leaned is head back to look at you, making sure he was correct in what he thought he heard in your plea. You looked at him, eyebrows the tiniest bit pinched, as you chewed on your bottom lip.
“Ok, sweetheart,” he said, and nodded before he let go of you to take a few steps back into the bar’s light to check for any activity. He waited a good minute, watching the windows carefully as bodies shifted around bodies and laughs mingled with laughs, then, looking back at you, he repeated, “Ok.”
He walked to you, his fingers undoing his belt and yanking down his zipper, then he whispered, “come here,” right before he lifted you off the ground so you could wrap your legs around his waist.
Your back hit the outer wall of the building and you reached down the middle of your bodies to find the small hole you’d worn into your leggings at the inner thigh. Never had you been so happy to wear cheap clothing in public.
Jake held you stable as you split the inner seam of your leggings with one sharp jerk, then he reached in his pants and pulled out his cock. He pumped himself once, twice, then nudged the edge of your underwear to the side with his tip before shoving himself fully inside you.
His hand over your mouth muffled the moan he knew was coming, but it was quickly replaced by his lips. He groaned into the kiss at the feel of your walls squeezing him, dragging his cock out and then back in at a torturous pace until you adjusted enough for him to move faster. His thrusts reached so deep your vision practically blurred with each one, and you felt those tears stinging in the corners of your eyes.
You mumbled his name a couple of times, cried it a few more when his hips would snap into yours. He would go back and forth from watching the expression he gave to your face and leaning his head forward to nibble and suck at your neck and shoulder. But you wanted him to open his eyes and keep them on you, so said his name again, this time with a gentle kiss to his lips. His thrusts slowed.
“Look at me,” you sighed sweetly, and he did. You wished you could drink in that look in his eyes. The way he stared at you—the green brighter, like being inside of you gave him a surge of life—could make you drunk. You loved it. You loved him. “I love you,” you said.
He let out a sharp breath, as if he had been holding it in out of uncertainty. His head fell forward and warm kisses lined your collarbone.
“When you get into my bed tonight, Jake Seresin,” you continued while those kisses slowly made their way up the column of your neck, “do not get out of it until I tell you otherwise.”
With a smile, his eyes met yours. He kissed your lips and pressed a long one to your forehead. Then, just loud enough for you to hear, he whispered against your skin, “Yes, Ma’am,” before his hips began to move again.
4K notes · View notes
lolokouhm · 6 months
Text
You got Gojo Satoru wondering - and he might not be built for that.
Tumblr media
Satoru is a person who doesn't really think twice before acting. He's used to being the strongest, the most powerful and hence, always right. But for the first time in a very long time, Satoru starts to wonder.
The beginnings are innocent, as they tend to be. Why are you so easy to talk to? He's had plenty of girls before, and none of them seemed to be able to hold conversation as well as you. Why are you so pretty? Your parents must have some crazy genes, both sides, to create a creature so insanely breathtaking. Why are you so bold? You were the one who made the first step and suggested this whole friends-with-benefits type of situation and that's why Satoru blames you. He's not used to thinking like that. That's too much for his pretty head to take.
Oh, and by the way, as we're on the subject of head - why are you so good at giving it? The way your sneaky little tongue plays with his tip almost gets him crying every fucking time. You should be illegal - and it gets even worse. Your gaze somehow always finds his and it doesn't even feel like you're looking at him. It's black magic. Maybe you are a curse user after all - your eyes do something to weaken him, being especially effective when poor Satoru is really trying his best not to come too soon. And so, he wonders. Do you want to kill him? Do you want him to drop dead, just like that?
In terms of dropping, Gojo is dropping to his knees, that's for sure. He'd drop everything actually, just to be able to open your legs and worship both you and the ground you're walking on, no matter where, no matter when. Your warmth gets him thinking. Why are your thighs so soft? He could sleep on them. he could live there - right there, in a sacred place, which no other men should ever have access to. A mere thought of that makes him angry, and that again, makes him wonder.
Is he jealous? But there were no rules, no talk of exclusivity. He thought he couldn't be jealous like that, especially when you didn't have anyone except him. At least that's how it was at first, but now he's not sure. He’s never asked. Satoru is thinking. Again. It feels uncomfortable, and the feeling intensifies as he reaches for his car keys. Maybe he shouldn’t be driving in this state? Normally he’d ask Geto, but the way his best friend stared at you during that party last weekend makes him grind his teeth. He didn't worry about it back then. So what changed? The way your body feels under his fingers? The way you smile, so sincerely that it feels unfair to have you in this universe? The way you moan his name and shake, when he...
’toru?’
Your voice brings him back. He looks at you, eyes wide open, confusion yet again written all over his face. Because even though he might be the honoured one, he's just a man. A man, who doesn't notice how his fingers unconsciously get tangled with yours every time he brings you on edge. A man, who doesn't understand why you make him feel not only like a horny teenager, but also a sad, lonely puppy every single time you leave his apartment, all happy and giddy for some inexplicable reason. A man, who simply doesn't get why his heart beats as if it's completely lost its rhythm in front of you, especially now, his six eyes scanning your surprised expression when you finally open the door.
Satoru wanted to say something, but doesn't know what now. Your lips are so distracting after all.
Guess he'll wonder for a little longer.
masterlist ❤️
269 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 5 months
Note
Reader who steals clothes from both Steve and Robin (maybe a poly, maybe just the best of friends) but they always let it happen, neither of them complain! Until one day you notice half your closet missing, and when you go into family video, both members of the himbo and lesbian dynamic are covered head to toe in your stolen clothes
as per the request criteria, they all swap clothing so it's implied that they're relatively similar sized!
--
You find it rather unfair that, out of all of the clothes in your closet, your favorite jeans have gone missing. The ones that you wear every day, the ones that you've nearly worn holes through, the ones that fit you so perfectly they might as well be a second skin. They've got deep pockets and a good waistband, but the ones you'd had to shove on last-minute to get to work on time are too-tight and the pockets are sewn shut to the rest of the fabric.
You're already in a bad mood when you storm through the doors due to the uncomfortable pressure around your waist, and your belongings dangling from your hands instead of tucked safely into your pockets, but your eyes zero in on Robin's pants immediately. She's waiting for you at the door, holding a stack of tapes in one arm as she smirks at your disheveled appearance.
Her pants are your pants.
"Morning, Sunshine," She drawls, that lazy smirk over her face fitting her features like a glove, "Jeans shrink in the wash?"
"The hell- those are mine!" You accuse, jabbing a finger towards her lower half. The jeans fit her just as snugly as they do you, and you see a pen barely visible in the pocket. Your pocket.
"We decided to get you back," She explains, "You take our clothes all the time. It's time we stole yours, too."
"We?" You ask, "Where's Steve?"
"Here." He calls from behind a few shelves down, "Your jacket's really comfy, by the way."
You stalk over to where his voice is coming from and find him snugly fitted into your lush pink zip-up, the hood fleece-lined for cold winters. There's rhinestones on the back that say 'babygirl', and when he peers up at you through his lashes where he's crouching to shelve tapes, he looks the part.
"You rats," You conclude, jaw perpetually agape, "I- I'll give back your clothes, I swear! Just don't stretch out my jacket, Steve." You cast a wary glance down to the zipper that looks like it may spring free from its constraints and smack you in the forehead, "Your boobs are too big.”
327 notes · View notes
bird-inacage · 25 days
Text
Net x James: An important reminder that BL partnerships consist of two individuals and they are not just a single entity.
So the Netjames news has been a notable bombshell in the fandom of late, and I've been quietly observing this as it unfolded earlier this week, particularly the varying reactions and discourse around it.
In his statement, James explained that his current career goals are moving in a different direction, which has resulted in him pulling out of 'Love Upon a Time', and by extension his acting partnership with Net. He wants to explore his other avenues as an artist, whereas Net is presumably focused on acting for now.
Tumblr media
With BL partnerships, we often see the two co-stars tied at the hip. Its part of the gig and it comes with the territory. They don't just work together on their project, but they do a huge amount of activity (both public and private) outside of that. They travel, perform, they do fan meets, press events, and spend a huge amount of time together as a twosome. So we get accustomed to seeing them as a united entity, which means news like this tends to hit harder because it feels akin to a divorce. This is one of the pitfalls of the Thai BL industry. When you create a narrative around two people who exclusively come as a package, it makes it incredibly difficult for both the actors themselves and fans to accept or make peace with any possible deviation from that. I think it's natural for any actor or artist to desire collaboration with different people: to develop their craft, to further their experience, to broaden their versatility. If sticking to only one working partner 'for life' doesn't work for them, I completely empathise with that.
Tumblr media
In their recent Instagram lives, Net and James were clearly sad and their feelings still very raw. This led to a lot of speculation regarding any ill-feeling or fall out between the two. But such accusations can be harmful. Even in an amicable or mutual break-up where ending a relationship is in both parties' best interests - the two people involved are still grieving. Being brutally honest and transparent with someone close to you, that things can no longer continue as they are, isn't easy. If fans feel upset, just imagine how difficult this is on them both. When you've been nurtured as a partnership from the get go, your co-star whose always been at your side provides a sense of safety and familiarity. And the prospect of now moving forward without them is a scary new unknown. On top of that, they probably feel an immense amount of pressure and guilt in digesting the potential fallout and response from their fans. There will be trepidation in how well their careers will fare in the immediate aftermath.
Tumblr media
Despite this, there are also positives to be taken from this decision. Arguably, Net and James were still in the early stages of their partnership. Bed Friend really put them on the map as a couple. So for James to come forward with this realisation now, before they got too established as a pairing was a responsible thing to do. I'm sure the last thing anyone wants is for their favourite artists to feel stuck or obliged to continue working together, which would undoubtedly lead to feelings of resentment eventually.
So respectfully, these instances are not to be taken personally or to be deemed as a betrayal of your support. After all, what we know of these artists is only a very small piece of their identities as people. It's okay to be devastated, but be respectful of their wishes. You can choose to continue supporting them as individuals, or choose to no longer support them at all - either way, you are perfectly valid and entitled to your choice, just extend the same courtesy back and be mindful of casting unfair judgement on their choice.
For me, it is admittedly a shame because I did see great potential in them both as a pair, and they had fantastic chemistry which could have been nurtured with more time and experience. Regardless, I truly believe they both have immense love for one another, and I wish them both the very best. They've just come to terms with the fact they no longer share the same vision for what they want in their careers. And that's okay.
(I will always be grateful that they gave us THIS iconic moment).
Tumblr media
130 notes · View notes
urdepressedslut · 1 year
Text
You could never hurt me
♡ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: Bucky realizes what he’s done to you after an episode, and starts to doubt if he deserves to be with you.
♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of choking
Tumblr media
It was fair to say that shit had hit the fan, the sliver of calm that was held before… ripped away.
Somehow Bucky was triggered into The Winter Soldier, allowing many to see how he was in action up close. Much to Bucky's dismay, nobody trusted him even more now. Besides his close friends that is, which sadly wasn't many.
The trio, Sam, Steve and (Y/n) had tried their best to subdue the soldier, but were easily outmatched.
Sam walked away with a sore back, some bruises here and there, while Steve was able to come out of the tussle without many marks himself. (Y/n) on the other hand, had some pretty bad bruising circling her neck. She felt fine physically, having taken worse damage at some other time in her life. Though emotionally she felt torn, knowing that Bucky wasn't in control, but she knew that wouldn't stop him from punishing himself.
Able to seclude them four away from prying eyes, the trio waited for Bucky to wake. Steve and (Y/n) was hoping that it would be their Bucky that would eventually stir, and not the soldier.
"How you doing?" Steve asked her from her sitting spot, a good distance away from Bucky's hunched over form.
"Not too bad... I've had worse." She answered, wincing at the discomfort from speaking.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked with a 'Really?' look.
"Guess not. Sorry... I just..." She paused, exhaling painfully, "He's been through so much, he can't seem to catch a break."
"I know." He said solemnly, focusing his gaze to a spot on the floor by her shoes.
"With everyone looking for him, now we got Tony added into the search squad."
"You really think he won't help us out?" Steve asked, making (Y/n) scoff from her spot on the floor.
"It feels unfair to ask him for help... Knowing what you know." She told him, giving him a disappointed look.
Steve looked into her eyes now surprised, having not known that she was aware. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find an appropriate response.
"Its not fair Rogers... After everything he's done for us? It's not your choice, he deserves to know." She stated, giving Steve a look of disapproval.
"I know, okay?" Steve finally spoke, running his hand through his disheveled hair.
"Hey Cap!" Sam shouted from his spot near Bucky, grabbing both him and hers attention, halting their current conversation.
Both making their way over, she stood behind the boys, watching Bucky cautiously.
Bucky let out a groan of discomfort, trying to sit upright, noticing his metal armed pinned. He glances around taking in the weary looks on the men's faces, while he notices (Y/n) hiding.
"Steve?"
"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asked, not willing to take any chances.
Bucky thought hard for a moment before speaking.
"Your mom's name was Sarah," He pauses, "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes." He lightly chuckles, causing Steve to smile in relief.
"You can't read that in a museum." Steve stated.
"Just like that we're supposed to be cool?" Sam asked him.
"Sam..." (Y/n) warned, slowly stepping out from behind Steve.
"What? A guy can't be too careful." Sam told her, receiving a glare.
"Enough Sam..." She locked eyes with Bucky, "It wasn't him."
Bucky suddenly focused his gaze on her neck, wincing at the apparent hand-shaped bruise forming.
"I did that." He stated, not needing anyone to confirm for him, he was a monster.
"Buck, it wasn't you. That doctor triggered you." She told him, trying to convince him.
"But I still did it." He retorted, watching the frown form on her face.
"No, because I know you... Bucky would never hurt me." She told him.
"Doll I..." Bucky started, but stopped himself from giving her a lousy apology.
"Can you guys release his arm and give us a minute?" She asked the two.
"(Y/n) I don't think tha—"
"Please." She begged, keeping her eyes locked with Bucky's shame filled orbs.
The two nodded in agreement, releasing his arm and giving them privacy.
"Your heads bleeding, let me see." She told him.
Bucky knew he didn't deserve her kindness, but he couldn't find it in him to push her away, he craved her touch.
"Really, I'm okay." He tried to convince her, even though he was far from it.
"You've never been able to lie to me... So don't try it now." She spoke, her voice shaking just barely.
"Doll, I'm so sorry I..." He choked up, "I never wanted this to happen, my worst nightmare has come true."
Her hands held the sides of his face, smearing away the escaping tear. Rubbing her thumbs up and down, she watched the quiver in his lip slow.
"The only way you could ever hurt me, is if you left me." She cooed, feeling both his arms wrap around her sides, pulling her slightly closer in need of comfort.
"I'm supposed to protect you. I can't protect you from myself. We can't... You shouldn't be with me." His voice went to a whisper by the end, the words feeling bitter rolling off is tongue.
"I'm sorry Buck, but you're not allowed to make that decision for me. I'm always gonna stay." She spoke strongly, no more shakiness in her voice.
He went to respond, but choked on a sob. He truly didn't deserve her, and he still couldn't comprehend that after everything, she still wanted him. Leaning forward he snuggled his face in the crook of her neck. Taking in her comforting scent, he was home.
"I love you baby... I love you so much." She promised, hearing his sobs die down, his breathing slowing.
Lifting his face so that his was inches from hers, he gazed into her eyes adoringly. His eyes danced down to her lips, then met her orbs again.
"I love you (Y/n)... I don't deserve you." He whispered.
He closed the space between them, capturing her lips in a devoted kiss. He let his metal arm pull her onto his lap, letting his flesh fingers tangle themselves into her hair. They could taste their shared breath, feeling the light thump of their heartbeats against each others lips.
Pulling away from him for air, she held his face in front of hers, letting their foreheads connect. Bucky closed his eyes in content, letting their breaths warm each other.
"You deserve everything." She whispered.
A/N: im so protective of bucky, he deserves to be happy 🥺 pls feel free to send in requests 🤍
695 notes · View notes
twig-tea · 19 days
Text
TsukuTabe S2 Is Perfection
I’ve been waffling about what to write about Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna s2, which completed last week (and which we have access to at all thanks to the hard work of @furritsubs). I have had to just give up on getting across how much this show means to me; there's no way I'll be able to communicate these feelings with words. Season 1 was excellent but Season 2 was everything I wanted and more that I didn't know I needed. This is going to be more disjointed than usual because I don't know how to be coherent about this show (and because tumblr ate my first two attempts).
Tumblr media
At its core, Tsukuritai Onna to Tabtetai Onna asks what if we were all just a little bit more conscientious and kind to one another? What if women were given space to be themselves and to make the choices that were best for them? This is the world of TsukuTabe, and I'm so grateful to have had the chance to inhabit it over these last four weeks. 
Tumblr media
I have so much love for the way Nomoto and Kasuga develop their relationship in conjunction with their relationships with the other women in their lives. Nagumo, Sayama, and Yako are integral to the success of Nomoto and Kasuga’s relationship, and they're also important relationships for the happiness of Nomoto and Kasuga in their own right. The found family vibes are immaculate. 
Tumblr media
The conflict between Kasuga and Nomoto this season was so perfectly them; the way they struggled with the transition from friends to lovers and being two people who are kind and giving in a relationship together and how that requires honesty and trust were both familiar conflicts that hit me hard in the feels. 
Kasuga's conflict with her family also hit me really hard. I once did the wrong thing and showed up to support my family in caring for someone who abused me, and it was a horrible experience that was ruinous to my mental health and took years to get over (and in the end they had to find a different solution anyway, which they could have done in the first place). Watching Kasuga refuse to make a similar decision, standing strong in the face of the social pressures of her parents and her aunt was so healing for me. And then to have her decision affirmed by someone of her parent's age? I sobbed in those scenes. 
Tumblr media
I also loved the way this season handled Nagumo’s anxiety issues and how she was given space to decide to get professional help on her own time and terms. The way her parents tried to help was also very familiar to me and realistic, and it was just a little heartbreaking how they tried and didn't understand how their attempts at helping added pressure in a way that wasn't helpful. 
The way this show covers this important beats in a person's life through these small, everyday moments, and in such a gentle way, is what I love so much about it. The show itself makes a safe space so that these subjects can come up and not feel overwhelming. 
And it's also really important to me that all of the characters get to have these moments. Sakae not only reflects on her insensitivity and the unfairness of Japan not having marriage equality, but she also reflects on the pressures on her to marry and whether she actually wants that for herself. Fujita not only helps Kasuga gain proxy acceptance for her choices but gets the same back for herself around her decision to divorce. All of these women live in ways that invoke social stigma, and the way this show gives explicit permission to these women to live their best lives is both cathartic and critical.
Tumblr media
I can't end this disjointed ramble without talking about the character I most identified with this season, Yako. Yako is an older, self-actualized asexual lesbian who makes friends with Nomoto on the Internet, recommends lesbian films to her, and mostly listens and affirms as Nomoto goes through her own process of discovering herself. I ran a GSA and have been on the Internet a long time, I've been in Yako’s position a lot (though I can only aspire to be as kind and wise). She is so patient and so genuinely happy for Nomoto when she and Kasuga get together, and she seems so quietly thrilled to have more wonderful people in her life willing to indulge her random party ideas. Her sharing a connection to a LGBTQ+-friendly real estate agency while being angry on their behalf that she even has to was perfection. 
Tumblr media
It's so important that these characters say the things they say aloud. I want to inscribe every sentence of this show into everyone's brains. This show is perfect, and lovely, and a warm bath, and a hug, and a cup of your favourite warm beverage perfectly fixed to your liking all in one. If you haven't done yourself the favour of watching yet, I highly recommend that you do so immediately. 
Tumblr media
[not an ID: Real footage of the entire audience's satisfaction and catharsis after watching TsukuTabe S2. Actual ID in alt text].
92 notes · View notes
lowkeyerror · 7 months
Text
Effort
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word Count: 1.3k
Warnings: No happy ending
Summary: Y/n is in love with Wanda, but the witch doesn't feel the same way. Y/n doesn't want to damage the relationship they have, so she tries what makes sense... distnace. Wanda doesn't like the distance
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Effort should mean something. The time, the patience, the consideration; it should mean something. Yet, as the days passed Y/n found it hard to believe that was true. She felt as though her effort had yielded no results. Her friends implored her not to give up, but it was hard. It was extremely hard to see Wanda chasing a man that didn��t deserve her, a man that broke her heart, a man that was hardly even a man in the first place. How could she love him after he led her on? How could she love him after he rejected her so quickly? How could she love him after he tortured her with friendship?
Perhaps it was the same way that Y/n found herself loving her regardless of how Wanda treated her. It would be unfair to say that Wanda treated Y/n harshly or played with her emotions purposefully. However, Y/n was still hurting. Wanda had confided in her about Vision, and though it broke her heart she gave Wanda earnest advice. She told the witch to be honest and be bold. Wanda took her advice and in turn got her heart broken. Maybe this was the universe giving Y/n karma.
Other members of the team could see very clearly how much Y/n cared about Wanda. Natasha was the one who first brought it up to Y/n asking if something was going on. Y/n was quick to fold under the spy’s questioning. Natasha only put fuel into her fire, Y/n began to believe that maybe Wanda felt something for her.
The fire was put out at every turn. Maybe it was Y/n’s nerves or maybe it was reality, but the Wanda that had trusted her seemed to be gone. There was something missing in Y/n’s mind. It felt like Wanda couldn't stand being in the room alone with her. It’s not like Wanda was talkative and outgoing with everyone, but she seemed extra closed off when it was just the two of them.
The change in their relationship made Y/n want to cry. Every time she looked at Wanda, she felt like her presence inconvenience the witch. Trying to converse with the witch was like pulling teeth. So, Y/n decided to just stop.
She put a distance between the witch and herself. A distance that everyone could see. The care she had for the witch was no longer displayed outwardly. She would only engage with Wanda, if Wanda sought her out. Even then Y/n couldn’t look at the witch, and her answers were shorter than they had ever been.
“Did I do something?”
The question catches Y/n off guard. The others had been sent out on a quick recon mission, leaving them as the only two in the compound. So, as they stood in kitchen and Wanda questioned Y/n, there was no one to save Y/n and nowhere for her to run.
“No, you haven’t done anything.”
Wanda crosses her arms,” But you know what I’m talking about. You’ve been acting different lately, and it’s only with me.”
“Y/n pauses briefly, “It’s nothing you did, Wanda. Can we please drop it?”
“Then talk to me, Y/n. What’s going on?”
For a moment Y/n contemplates putting it all out there. She could tell Wanda the truth, right now. There’s already a distance in between them. It couldn’t get any worse, for Y/n. She feels empty and hollow treating Wanda like this, but it’s the best for the both of them.
“I- don’t want to talk about it.”
“Bullshit, Y/n. I miss you. You hardly talk to me, and you can’t even look at me “
Y/n let’s out a small scoff, “It’s not like you were ever listening to what I was saying. You’d be staring off into space. I’d talk too much, and it would never hold your attention. Nothing I ever say is enough to create a back and forth. After I finish talking its always quiet.”
Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. She wanted to protest, but it was true, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” Wanda tries to catch the woman’s gaze, but Y/n won’t look at her.
“Are we done here?”
Wanda shook her head in disbelief. Y/n was trying to run from her, but the witch wasn’t going to allow that anymore.
“No, we are not done here, Y/n. I- I will do better, I promise. Just give me something, anything to work with. Don’t give up on me.”
The desperation in Wanda’s voice nearly broke Y/n. She knew that Wanda was trying her best. She could hear how much this was affecting the witch. Y/n wanted nothing more than to just move on and forget all of this. However, her heart couldn’t let her. She was still madly in love with Wanda and the thought of being close to her, but not being able to have her still hurt.
“Wanda I would never give up on you. I just… I need a little space,” Y/n couldn’t look at the redhead. Her voice was soft, reluctant to let those words even leave her lips.
Wanda sighed, “Haven’t we had enough space?”
It was a bold move from Wanda, but with her question she stepped closer to Y/n. The girl took a step back, much to Wanda’s surprise. The look of hurt in the red heads eyes only multiplied.
Y/n couldn’t meet her eyes. She took a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair, in a small voice she spoke, “I can’t do this with you right now.”
“How am I supposed to fix this if I don’t know what I did?” Wanda pleaded with the girl.
“I already told you that you aren’t the problem, Wanda. What more do you want from me.”
Wanda throws her hands up in the air, “I want you to tell me what’s bothering you because I care about you and it’s obviously affecting our relationship.”
Y/n would not be able to keep this up much longer, “I’m trying to save our relationship so please let me have this time.”
Wanda shakes her head, “Save it from what?”
Y/n can’t stop herself from yelling at the woman, “From me because I'm in love with you, Wanda. I've been in love with you for a long time and knowing that your heart lies with a man who didn't even have a heart is breaking me. Being close to you hurts because I’m never close enough. The sad part is I never expected to be. So, I just have to sit with these feelings. I’m trying to move on, I really am, but it’s hard when we’re this close. So, I just need you to give me some space, please, so that I don’t ruin our friendship.”
Y/n was out of breath when she finished speaking. Wanda stood still staring at her. The witch was not ready to hear that from her best friend. The silence was unbearable for Y/n, it was worse than she imagined. She always pictured a screaming match if she ever confessed. She thought Wanda would yell at her, and it would be welcomed over this silence.
Though nothing was funny, Y/n laughed with tears welling in her eyes, “You happy now, Wanda? This is what you wanted right?”
“Y/n…” nothing else leaves the witch’s mouth.
Y/n just nods her head aggressively,” I’m going for a walk, please don’t follow me.”
The broken-hearted girl storms out of the compound. The witch flinched as the door slammed shut. Tears of her own welling in her eyes,” I’m sorry, Y/n.”
Those were the last words Wanda said before she started sobbing. It was ironic in a way, how both women were in tears. Both mourning the loss of a relationship, and both filled with regret. Wanda wishing that she had romantic feelings towards Y/n and Y/n wishing that her feelings never developed. However, the heart was cruel and no one.
296 notes · View notes
copypastedaphne · 10 months
Text
Not enough for you.
All you want to do is join a raid and fight for the Omatikaya clan. But Neteyam won't let you. (this discription is so bad i cant even).
Tumblr media
paring: neteyam × fem!omaticaya!reader
genre: ANGST again... i apologize.
word count: 1.6k
warning(s): yelling, crying, neteyam being overprotective and kind of mean but its okay bc he's perfect ♡
notes: hello everyone! uhm surprise surprise i procrastinated and wrote this in like 20 minutes bc i haven’t finished the rotxo fic yet. i promise i'm working on it, it's just taking so so long bc i keep re-reading it and hating it and starting over. i need so much sleep oml.
p.s: again, sorry this is so rushed i promise imma deliver with the roxto fic! i should be posting soon but since a lot of people have been asking for a part 2 of much too elegant i might work on that and post that first. I LOVE YOU GUYS ok bye
Neteyam rubbed his face in frustration looking down at your ever so pleading look.
“Please Neteyam, ask your father if I can join these raids. I am as good a warrior as the rest of you!” You pleaded, holding your hands together, looking up at him.
“I already said no, Y/n. I refuse to ask and I refuse to let you go.” He stated in a harsh tone making you frown more then you already were.
You both had been alone in the Sully’s tent arguing about the planned raid for about an hour, yet no progress had been made between the two of you.
You turned to sit on a small log-like stool still looking up at Neteyam with an hopeful look. He was your best friend, but not only that. You were to be promised mates soon, to be forever lovers and look over the Omatikaya clan.
There were no objections from either of you once being told you would be mated. You had been lovers for a while and best friends since you were little. Neteyam and you hardly ever fought. You both supported and loved each other endlessly. The only issue that you two came had ever seemed to come across was one like this.
You were stubborn about following them to the raid tomorrow, you were just as good as a warrior and deserved to be there. But as stubborn as you were, so was Neteyam and he refused to allow you within a 100km radius from the raid.
“Do you think I do not deserve to fly with you, Neteyam?”
Once the words slipped out of your mouth you knew it had pissed him off. The flicker of fury behind his eyes and slight shake of his head making his braid beads click made you nervously fidget for his response.
“I never said that Y/n.” Neteyam replied stoically not a single ounce of emotion in his voice.
“You know I never said that.” he slightly raised his voice pacing backwards away from you.
“Well that is what it feels like you are saying.” you speak growling at him, standing up once again.
“Y/n-“
You turn your back to Neteyam, refusing to even look at him as you speak under your breath.
“I just want to be a good warrior. I only want to help my people.” You say raising your voice slightly. “Why must you prevent me from doing what I love?!”
“That is not what I am doing! I am trying to keep you safe, Y/n! Why can you not-" Neteyam lets out a deep sigh, lowering his voice to a much more calming tone.
"Would you please just listen to me Y/n?” He spoke, anger still laced between his words. Stepping towards you again he faces you. You shake your head still refusing to look at him.
“No, Neteyam, I will not listen. It is so unfair that you allow every other Na’vi to go but me. It is as if you think I am not capable.” You say stepping away from him.
“Y/n. I never once said any of those things. I am trying to keep you safe. I am trying to keep you alive. It is too dangerous, too risky.” He repeats once again.
Maybe it was the fact that he said that you cannot come or the way he refused to even give you the possibility to let you join him. But it made you snap your head over to Neteyam. You looked into his golden eyes watching them sparkle with frustration.
“Am I not a good enough warrior for you Neteyam?! Do I not fly my ikran well enough to be able to fly with you? You honestly think I cannot do anything?!” You threw your hands in the air in frustration.
Maybe you were trying to rile him up, get him to react. You just wanted him to listen to you. But the beast you awakened within Neteyam was not worth it.
“You know what Y/n- fine. Yes! Yes, you’re not a good enough warrior! Is that what you wanted me to say? Well there. Loud enough for the furthest creatures to hear me! You cannot fly with the warriors tomorrow because you are not good enough.” He spat in your face, his face burning and his heartbeat quick.
You went silent as you looked up at him, never had you seen him this way. So angry, so upset with you. Your eyes burned as you held your tears in. His words hurt but you worked them out of him. Yet, that did not stop the ache in your chest, the feeling of your heart beating deep in your stomach.
As Neteyam looked at you he watched as your face crumpled and your eyes teared up, absolute and utter pain etched on your face.
“Y/n.” He reasons after coming to his senses. “Y/n wait, I-.. I didn’t mean it, my love-“
“You really do not think I am good enough?” You whisper to yourself, your voice muted from pain.
“No, No my love, just listen to me I-“ Neteyam begins to try and reason with you but you push him away.
“Why.. Why would you say that..?” You whisper once again. Tears begin to pour down your face and your throat begins to close as your heart pounds.
“Y/n-“ Neteyam’s eyes tear as he tries to grab you once again but you push him off of more forcefully this time.
“Do not touch me!” You hiss at him as you begin to sob the tears in your eyes making your vision blurry.
“Just.. just stay away from me. Damnit, Neteyam. Why can't I ever be enough for you?” You speak roughly.
Neteyam's heart practically breaks at your words but before he can say anything, you leave the tent sobbing. Tears spill down your cheeks and you eyes continue to be blurred from tears.
Neteyam watched you leave, calling after you as he begin to feel the weight of what had just happened crash down on him. Newfound tears finally falling down his face.
-
It was now the day of the raid, and you laid sulking in your family’s tent recapping the argument between you and your lover.
You knew you stirred him up yet that didn’t make his words hurt any less. Neteyam’s words, ‘You are not good enough’ could only replay in your mind over and over.
Neteyam knew he must apologize to you. None of the words he meant, he was just sick and tired of arguing with you and hit a breaking point.
Neteyam peaked his head inside of your hut. Seeing you curled up on your mat only made his heart ache even more. This is not how he is meant to treat his mate; he is supposed to cherish and adore her but yet here you lay in front of him.
Neteyam took a deep breath before entering the hut fully, walking up to where you laid.
“Y/n.” he spoke softly sitting beside you.
You shuffle to sit upwards, still a great distance further than you would usually sit by him.
“I need to apologize to you, I should not-“
“Am I really not good enough?” you interrupt looking up at your lover, revealing the tears in your puffy eyes.
Saying the sentence caused your voice to crack slightly and the tears you had tried to hold in hopelessly fell down your blue cheeks making Neteyam’s heart feel like it had shattered into pieces.
Looking into your eyes he could feel your pain. He silently took you in his arms, setting you in his lap to face him before gazing into your eyes, cupping your face in his hands, whipping your tears gently with his thumb.
“No, my love. I think you are the best worrier all of pandora has ever seen.” Neteyam whispers softly.
You can only look at him, for fear if you say anything you will start to cry even harder.
“But.. But you said I wasn’t good enough. You said that. You said I was not good enough to fly with you.” You blubber out using the last of your words knowing if you speak again you will cry.
“I know, Y/n. I am so sorry, my love. I was speaking through anger, not truth. You are the best being Eywa has blessed upon me. You are more than good enough, you are the clan’s best warrior and you will make the best Tsa’hik. You are the only one I will every truly want, for you outshine the rest. My Y/n, every word said yesterday was due to anger and will never be a true reflection of the utter love I carry for no one but you.”
Neteyam held onto you tightly, staring into your teary eyes, scanning them for some sort of response. You sniffled softly, practically sobbing at his tender words.
“B-But if you loved me you would let me go. I just want to help and be like the rest. Why can I not fight along side you, Neteyam? I just want to be with you. I only wish to be with you. To be enough for you.” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see the tears you were still crying.
Neteyam lightly traced his fingers over the stripes on your back with a deep sigh.
“You are more than enough for me, Y/n." Neteyam whispers, tears swelling in his eyes, "I just cannot bare the thought of losing you. I fear a world where you do not reside, my Y/n.”
You can’t control your emotions as you finally allow yourself to sob into Neteyam’s chest. Your lover sighs gently as he peppers you with small kisses.
“Oh, Y/n. I am truly sorry my love, I shouldn’t have said what I said. I just wish to protect you, not do the opposite. Please do not cry. You deserve nothing but joy.” Neteyam whispers tenderly.
He kissed your lips softly, smiling sweetly still rubbing your back, and together you stayed intertwined with each other enjoying the others company.
262 notes · View notes