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#why are the weeks so damn busy lately
dukeoftheblackstar · 10 months
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It's Monday morning for me.
Watch me cram everything I was supposed to have accomplished over the weekend to an ungodly extent of burning myself out, lose sleep for the 1st shift of the week, whine about it, drown in so much coffee to function, and still have the audacity to do absolutely nothing first for the next three more hours because that's how just how it be.
I should be really getting a head start, maybe pencil in my to-do-list for today, but nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.
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leviismybby · 6 months
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How the aot veterans notice that you and Levi are secretly an item...
Erwin
Let's be honest, he knew it even before you two got together. Erwin is a very observing man, hardly anything that is going on in the headquarters can get past him. The first time he noticed that something was up was when Levi started to butt in while he was doing the plans for expeditions, always sneakily trying to put you in the safest position possible. It was always "Name isn't skilled enough to be here" or "She would do better if you put her over here". Another thing he noticed is that you two started to attend meetings late with some lame excuse, he just dismissed it but enjoyed how much you both struggled to keep the act up.
However one day you two don't show up to work at all, spending all day having "fun" in Levi's room and the excuses Erwin heard the next almost made him laugh. "And where were you two?" He asked as you and Levi entered his office, his eyebrow raised. "We were busy." Levi says but he knows that it's not enough. "I was giving her private training all day yesterday." Erwin nods, not believing a single word. "Is that so? And why didn't you inform me about this?" Levi scoffs, he knows he shouldn't lie to Erwin but he can't just say that you two were fucking like rabbits the whole day yesterday. "I thought that it wasn't important." Erwin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose at Levi's words. "For Ymir's sake just say that you two were having sex and stop with this nonsense." Your mouth drops right open at the commander's words, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks meanwhile Levi scoffs at Erwin. Guess he did not have to lie to his superior officer anymore, the cat was out of the bag anyway.
Hange
It was their number-one entertainment besides spending the whole day doing titan research. They noticed it mostly because of Levi and how his behavior would change around you. Little things like, how often he sat next to you, how close the two of you would stand to each other anytime you were next to one another. One of the biggest giveaways was Levi's hand on your lower back which suggested that the two of you were already intimate with one another. They saw you once brush a fur off his uniform jacket, that was where Hange got their confirmation. For the next few weeks, they noticed even more, on one occasion, you had your hand resting on his thigh while you two were sitting down. It took everything in them not to bug you or Levi about it that is, until they saw love bites on your neck, they couldn't help but look at your neck and that's when they had to say something. "Damn name. Someone is getting it good huh?" You start to cough at their words and Levi looks up from his tea. "What are you talking about?" Hange snickers. "Your neck, Levi isn't going easy on you is he?" "Shut the fuck up four-eyes."
Miche
He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Levi had your scent on him one morning. "Hmm.." He would hum, finding it strange just how strong your smell on Levi was. So he waited to see if you would smell like Levi too and he got his opportunity when you sat next to him in the mass hall at dinner. He side-eyes you, you indeed had Levi's cologne on you. "Mhh..." He hums again and looks between you and Levi. "So do you two use the same shampoo and soap or?" Miche asks, looking at your reactions. "What are you japping about?" Levi asks, already annoyed that Miche is asking such a thing. "Don't play me for a fool. You two smell like each other. Why is that?" You and Levi stay quiet and the silence is enough for Miche. "Ah, I see..." He can't help but nod in approval. "Well good luck. At least know we know where Levi is taking his stress out."
Nanaba
Now....she downright catches you two making out and it was by pure accident. She borrowed a shirt from you and wanted to return it so you told her to just bring it to your room when she had the time. Bad idea. Levi was sitting on your bed, you on his lap as you kissed passionately. His hands were rubbing your back under your shirt, you moaned softly against his lips. Levi's hands move to your hips and he grinds you on top of him, you get the message, and just as you are about to pull your shirt over your head when. "Name here is your shirt back- oh..." Nanaba stood in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she saw the position you two were in. It took a few seconds to register what happened but Levi spoke before you. "Fucking...fuck off. Can't you see we are busy?" He says, his voice harsh, his hands still on your hips. Nanaba chuckles. "Alright, alright, keep on....yeah. And use protection" "Out!" Levi yells and Nanaba smiles before closing the door behind her. "....I forgot to lock the door..." You try not to laugh at the situation when you see Levi's annoyed face. "Whatever. Now let's get back to what we were starting." You smile as he resumes kissing you.
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grippingbeskar · 1 year
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small favours
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— joel miller x fem!reader
— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts
— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.
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You hadn’t asked for much.
It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?
Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.
It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.
It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.
All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.
There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.
Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.
“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.
“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”
Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.
“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”
“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.
“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.
You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.
You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.
“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”
The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.
When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.
“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“
“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.
In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.
“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.
“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”
“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”
“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.
“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.
“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.
“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”
“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”
“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.
“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.
“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”
“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.
“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”
“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh
“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.
“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“
“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”
“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”
“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.
“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”
“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”
“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”
“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.
He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.
Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.
“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.
“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”
“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”
“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.
“You want me to stitch your face together?”
“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.
“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.
“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.
“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.
“Sorry. Shit—“
“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”
Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.
The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.
“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.
“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.
“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.
“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.
It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.
You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.
You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.
“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”
Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.
At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.
“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.
“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”
“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”
“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.
For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.
He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.
“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”
“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”
“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.
“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.
“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”
“But I want—“
“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”
“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”
“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.
He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.
Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.
He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.
“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.
“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.
It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.
There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.
“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“
He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.
You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.
“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”
“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”
“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.
He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.
“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”
He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.
He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.
“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.
“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.
It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.
You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.
“So fucking tight around me.”
“God, you feel good.”
“You are so beautiful.”
“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“
“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.
The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.
He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.
“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.
“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.
“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”
You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
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~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals���or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
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~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
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chastiefoul · 1 year
Text
stood up pt. 2
characters: alhaitham & ayato
read part one here!
a/n: cannot thank u all of you enough for how well-received the first fic was, hope you can enjoy the second part just as much!! also i hope you can forgive my limited knowledge of flora (and the things i made up) on haitham's part!!
tags: comfort / summary: wallowed in guilt, how will they make it up to you?
Alhaitham
“You look like shit,” Kaveh commented nonchalantly, as if currently watching some character on a show. “Shut it,” Alhaitham replied, having zero intention in dealing with his roomate. It has been a week since he finished his research, but relief didn’t wash over him at all, it was the same day as he had cruelly stood you up, making you wait for three whole hours before he finally came. There were a lot of upsetting feelings he’s been experiencing through for the past few days, but lately he felt giving his past self a good punch for forgetting such an important day. In a way too he had blamed the research that’s been occupying him. Although he quickly perished that thought, since it’d be too easy—blaming something other than himself. When in fact he is wholly at fault for forgetting the date.
Everyday Alhaitham had been coming to your house, wanting to talk to you but what always greet him was your roomate, telling him that you’re busy. Feeling like he had no right to push it further, he left it at that. With clenched fists and a pang on his chest everytime, he was forced to go home. Today he was at his wits’ end, he had no idea what to do and how would he make you to meet him even for a second. Other than forgiveness that he’s looking for, he missed you terribly. With all the times he could’ve spent with you taken by the damn research, he longed to embrace you, to see your smile, and listen to you rambling about what’s been happening in your life.
Alhaitham wasn’t really one to be experienced in ‘love’, he knew that, you knew that. That’s why he loved your patience in guiding him through this thing, but now the only person that would be able to tell him what to do was the very one person he couldn’t talk to. Alhaitham groaned, thinking if you were in his position you’d probably know to do—scratch that. If it’s you, Alhaitham was sure that you wouldn’t even allow yourself to do such a careless act.
“He’s here again,” your roomate claimed, seeing him from the window. “Just tell him the same thing,” you said, hugging your knees as you sat on the couch. It's true that Alhaitham looked horrible, but you weren’t any better. You’ve been crying yourself to sleep every night, it especially hurt, when you had to hold back the sobs over a pillow that your throat hurts; since you didn’t want to disturb your roomate. What happened that day was like a slap to the face, that you were forced to recognize a fact that perhaps you love Alhaitham way more that he loves you.
Your rommate just nodded to what you say and went to the door. Not long she came back bearing a message. “He said he’d wait for you outside until you feel like talking to him.”
“Just leave him be then, I’m sure he’d go back soon, it’s especially cold outside today.” You said, really having no idea just how stubborn the gray-haired male is going to act. “Well, just keep an eye out.” Your roomate went back to her room. Tell that to him. You thought. You turned the television on to distract yourself, but you couldn’t help but peek outside the window every few minutes, to see if he’s still there. And he always was.
And that went for more than an hour, until you felt like you couldn’t do it anymore. You were mad at him, but you’re not heartless. You couldn’t be. However you didn’t intend to forgive him so easily, you told yourself that you were only meeting him to send him home and to not come back everyday.
You approach the front door and opened it.
There he stood, with an hand behind his back. When he saw you, his eyes lit up, but it quickly turns into a look of concern and guilt mixes, seeing your swollen eyes.
“What do you want?” You curtly said, taking a good look of the man in front of you who’s in terrible shape. His complexion doesn’t look good, there are bags under his eyes, he hasn’t been taking care of himself at all. A part of your chest twinge at the fact that not being able to see you was the cause of all this. You weren’t used to seeing Alhaitham so all over the place, when he always showed a perfect picture of a man who got it all together.
“I’m sorry,” He quickly cut to the chase, afraid that you’ll be out of his sight yet again as he revealed a purple hyacinth, handing it to you. The flower that represented regret and remorse. Then he continued meekly, “Of course, I don’t expect you to forgive me with one lousy flower, but I hope you will believe me when I said I truly regret that I had forgotten about our date, it seethes me with terrible anger to remember that I let myself be so caught up in my business, resulting you had to stand in the snow for hours; hours of you thinking of the reason why I didn’t come, and hours of doubting my feelings towards you. It must’ve felt terrible, I am so sorry.” His voice was close to trembling, however he knew to hold it in, since the one who should be upset was you. “I understand if me being in your vision may infuriate you, but please, please don’t shut me out.” He pleaded, it’s the most vulnerable expression you’ve ever seen on him that it tugs on your heartstrings.
Of course the truth is you missed him as much as he does, but you had to be sure of his feelings towards you. And seeing him now yet again after many failed attempts of meeting you over the days with a flower you didn’t even know where it came from since every field should be covered in snow and a heartfelt all-over-the-place apology, you couldn’t help but soften up. You reached to take the flower. “Come in, let’s talk inside.”
You both sat on the couch, your right hand went to rub his cheek. It was incredibly cold. “What were you thinking, standing in the cold like that? What if I hadn’t come out?” You mumbled gently. “It was nothing compared to what I put you through, I would’ve wait even for days.” He frowned as you leaned in to your touch, putting his hand atop of yours. Oh how he missed this. However he didn’t indulge on the touch thinking it was forgiveness, it’s just because you were that kind.
“You really hurt me,” you started, as he listened. “I had been looking forward to the date for days and then seeing you late looking like you just barely woke up—it made think that maybe you didn’t love me as much.” Your voice sounded so small as you reached the end of your sentence. Alhaitham felt pricks on his heart at the confession, swiftly pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed your temple. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. But I can assure you that was not the case. I was so caught up on my research that I mixed up the date of our meeting, though that’s not an excuse for such a careless act.” He paused.
“(y/n), I love you very much.”
Alhaitham was really having trouble telling you just how much he loves you. If you’d asked, he would wait on the cold for days until you’re ready to talk to him, even today he thought that it was okay if it was only a second, he had to see you, to know you’re doing fine and well, that was what he thought the most important thing. Just the way he kissed you so gently at the top of your head, you thought that you had a grasp as to how much he loves you. “Thank you for letting me see you,” he smiled, he cupped your face planting kisses on each of your swollen eyelids.
“Promise me you’ll make up for it, haitham,” you said softly. A chance. Alhaitham felt an unexplainable tingle feeling on his chest, “I promise.” He then said kissing you gently on the lips, as he made a mental note to always, always pick you up at your place for the dates that are more to come.
“The flowers? I.. went to Tighnari first thing in the morning, I asked him about the language of the flowers and what they meant. I came across it as I read a book, fortunately I could find the one I was looking for.” He explained, strangely bashful.
Flower picking? On this weather?
“But where did you even get it, isn’t everything either covered in snow or had withered already?” You asked genuinely curious. “Well Tighnari said there would be some on the cliffs of The Chasm, so I went there.” He said.
Cliff? The Chasm? That terribly dangerous place? Of course it’d be nothing for Alhaitham, you thought. But still, traveling that far and so quickly just for a flower.. you couldn’t help but smile.
“Thank you, I like it.” You smiled, the one where it made Alhaitham’s inside all tingly and warm. At this he felt like he really could do anything, as long as you were the one who asked for it. “Tell me what kind of flower you want on our next date, I’ll definitely bring it to you.” He took your hand, trailing little kisses along your fingertips to your wrist. Your stomach fluttered. You really do love him.
As if lesson was strictly learned, from that day forward Alhaitham had never once made you wait anywhere anymore at all. He's always ready in front of your door, sometimes with a flower, sometimes with something that you'd nonchalantly said the day before; for instance a food you were craving for, a necklace that you stared a second longer than the other that were on display, or even a stuffed toy you mentioned was cute even though you only said it to make a conversation.
Before, Alhaitham usually passive, most times always being the receiving end by your spoiling, but it was because he didn't want to take initiative, he just didn't understand how. Now, he understood just how delightful it was to see his loved one smile because of the things he did, and he only had you to thank for that.
Ayato
“My lord?” Thoma’s voice snapped the blue-haired male train of thoughts. “Ah, yes just leave the tea there Thoma.” He said. “Did something happen, my lord? You’ve been pretty out of it all week.”
“I’m fine, you can return to your duty,” Ayato calmly said. The blond housekeeper only nodded and went out, understanding very well that it was futile to probe any further. Ayato looked blankly at the unattended pile of papers he needed to take care of, he hasn’t been working well—or even at all. Since everytime his mind would wander off to you, to your meek voice that day telling him that you were tired, with a tone so hurt his heart couldn’t help but ache. This regret, this remorse; he wondered if he even had any right to feel them? When even to this day he unconsciously stilll waited for you to barge in to the estate, wanted to see you smile happily while greeting him without a care in the world. But that didn’t happen, of course it didn’t.
Ayato shut his eyes with an unpleasant expression for the nth time that day, remembering the date he had forgotten. For how long you were waiting for him? What were you thinking while waiting for him on such a harsh weather? What was it that finally made you give up? All these questions swirled inside his mind as he couldn’t even imagine how terrible you must’ve felt that day. Ayato was a formidable man, he was responsible and someone with a strong conviction, it was what the political people said at least. But he knew you’d laugh, if you hear it. Responsible? That Ayato? Who made his lover wait for him out in the cold for hours?
He didn’t even realize he’s been clenching his fist until he saw the crinkled paper scattered across his desk. Why the hell did I forget such an important day? He fumed, gritting his teeth. But the truth was he had no excuse, he had simply forgotten, perhaps he could blame the endless meeting he had to go through, but even then he was the one who made the promise that he could come. The guilt overwhelmed him, he hoped it would just swallowed him alive, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. He considered calling one of his soldier to try and punch him in the face so he could feel a little free from the binding shame, but only to realize the person who even had the right to do that was none other than you. So Ayato was determined that he’d do anything to beg for your forgiveness.
But more than forgiveness, he’s been worried about your health. He thought that if you hadn’t forgiven him, at least you could be well and healthy, though it was extremely hypocritical to say since he was the one who made you sick in the first place. Ayato stood up, planning to go to your place yet again even though his work was piling up, there are meetings that are waiting to be attended. But at the moment it was clear to him that nothing else matters except seeing you.
This was truly the worst.
Lying down with a fever with nothing to do, surrounded with nothing but unpleasant thoughts roaming around your mind. You blinked the tears away once again as they keep coming occasionally, remembering that day.
You sighed, your head was throbbing and you couldn’t really sleep as you just woke up an hour ago.
As if on cue, a familiar voice called out from the door. “(y/n)?” Ayato called out. Another tired sigh escaped. Does this man not know how to take a hint? You’ve been driving him away for the past few days, his face was the one thing you couldn’t stand to see.
“Please (y/n) open the door, even just for a few second.” His voice was now strained, laced with desperation and plead. You got up all wobbly from the headache, body still feeling sluggish. “What?” You said, frowning.
Seeing your condition Ayato’s expression contorted into utter displeasure, as if you being this way had hurt him too. What a joke, you almost laughed out loud. He looked like he wanted to say something based of how he gaped and closed his mouth like a fish, still finding the right words to say.
“Your few seconds are up,” you said, already on your way to closing your door. “No, no, please.” He hold the door, and of course with your condition and his ridiculous strength, there’s no way you would win that one. “Can I come in?” He finally said. “Why?” You said, leaning on the doorframe intending to look intimidating as you crossed your arm, but really you needed the support to stand up straight on your currently weak body. This didn’t go unnoticed by the sword-wielder of course as the worried expression deepened across his face. “Please, sweetheart let’s talk inside, I’m worried you’ll faint any minute with your condition.” You let off his slip of a tongue, too tired to reprimand him on that. And honestly you wanted nothing more than to return to your bed but you still had something to say. “Worried?” You laughed mockingly, and Ayato had never felt smaller. “Yes.” Still, he managed to say. “Would’ve been nice if you were worried when I was waiting for you in the snow for hours.” That one stings, and Ayato knew he deserved that.
Too tired to chase him away, you just return to your bed and inside your blanket. Ayato just stood awkwardly near the bed. “Have you been taking medicine? How is your head? Would I be allowed to check your temperature? What do you want to-“
“Ayato.” Your tone was chilling, felt like a definite warning—Ayato knew, it was a warning. Right now he doesn’t have any right, there are other matters he should be groveling to take responsibility of, he thought.
“Will you be willing to listen to me?” He kneeled beside the bed, putting his hand on the edge of it, hesitating whether he should touch your hand or not. Your back was still facing him, but you were quiet. Assuming that it was a permission, Ayato continued to talk.
“First of all, I apologize. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how I regret my action, that you had to stand there alone waiting for me—who stupidly didn’t even remember, I apologize.” He whispered, his voice was weak. “No, even way before that the way you always come to the estate to visit me and stood by my side no matter how crazy my work got and how I never thought how it would take a toll on you, I truly truly apologize.” You felt a little part of your heart melted at how meek his voice was.
“I took your unconditional kindness and patience for granted,” he said. There was silence after that, “you did,” you finally said. “I’m sorry.” Ayato repeated once again. He then very hesitantly grabbed your hand, and as soon as he saw that you gave the okay he brought it to his face, kissing your palm very lovingly. You turned your head to him as you were lying down, he looked disheveled.
“Don’t go to the estate anymore.” The blue-haired male announced suddenly, your stomach dropped as he quickly continued.
“From now on I’ll come to you.”
You blinked. “I’ll make sure to be here every day, greeting you first thing in the morning.” Ayato smiled, determined. He was sure on his decision to do this. “As of now, I know very well I don’t deserve your kindness, so I’ll try hard to do better, to do my best, for you.”
Your heart softened at his words.
“Can you please give me this chance?” He was desperate. Your anger slowly dissipated, a warm light like a candle flickered inside your chest, a hope. “Okay.” Ayato was over the moon hearing the response, that he couldn’t help but kiss your temple. Your stomach fluttered, it knew you missed his touch. “For now can I ask you to eat and take medicine?” He asked while gently tucking your hair behind your ear. You nodded, as he got everything ready. He ended up beside you all day, taking care of your needs.
Since that day Ayato did not break his promise even once. Always coming in the morning, sometimes with gift on his hand, other times with breakfast all ready. Then he shared his schedule with you for the day, and even then he’d always be the one to visit you when he was free, showering you with such overwhelming love. It was clear that the man love you very very much, and now he didn’t let you forget that.
“Ayato, thank you.” You said, on a random night. He just looked at you, adoration was apparent on his expression. “Anything for you, love. I mean it, anything.” He kissed your lips gently, the nightfall continued comfortably.
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Hydro Dragon
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Neuvillette is a type of man (or dragon) that barely shows emotion. If he does, well damn, your heart can't take it.
Neuvillette has this smile that can melt your heart, a smile that makes you want to squish his cheeks together, a smile that you want to cherish forever.
When he's mad? He's scarier than the archons. But thankfully, he rarely gets mad (at you). Thus, not having you witnessing his wrath, since the two of you rarely fight.
Having Neuvillette as a lover is fun and all until he confessed to you that he's the Hydro Dragon, the same dragon you always sang to whenever it rains so that the dragon won't be sad.
Therefore, it is your mission to be sunny every day in Fontaine. But right now, it's stormy and raining as hell.
You and Neuvillette had an argument. It's the usual argument about him overworking himself. But instead of you guys talking about it and cuddling in bed (even giving him back massages), he shouted at you and said things he didn't actually mean.
You knocked on the door that leads to his office. When you hear a small "Enter." you opened the door and entered.
"Neuvillette? It's already late. Come and cuddle with me."
Neuvillette's body is stiff from all the paperwork that seems to be endless. The dragon sighed and shook his head.
"As much as I wanted to feel your body, I have important things to do."
You frowned at his words. You're not clingy per se, but seeing your dear dragon's slumped shoulders in a mountain of paperwork makes you want to cradle and massage him.
"But love, the sun has already set, the stars and moon has long made it way to the sky. Come and sleep with me, fi—"
You didn't get to finish your words when Neuvillette interrupted you in an unpleasant way.
"CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR ONCE?! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M BUSY AND DON'T NEED YOUR PAMPERING?!"
Now, that's the outburst you didn't expect. Right, he's exhausted and tired. You get that. But, really? Pouring his frustration out to you is just petty.
You stared at Neuvillette and left his office, not slamming the door, closing it softly like he didn't just shouted at you. Neuvillette, who still hasn't registered what he did continued to do his work.
It's been two days, and it's been raining cats and dogs ever since. You see, you've been avoiding him since he lashed out on you. Sleeping in a different room, making breakfast, lunch, and dinner early, and not visiting him at work. All the things he has been so used to do, like sleeping on the same bed, eating together, you sitting on his lap while he works, and you two cuddling together.
Neuvillette can't deny the fact that he missed those things. Yes, it's only been two days, but those two days have been torture to him. Without your sweet kisses and hugs, his work has been ten times harder for him.
Neuvillette is now walking in the streets of Fontaine, soaked in his own emotions as the heavy raindrops landed on him.
In the past, the chanting of children Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry, used to cheer him up, but now? It's all useless. He didn't feel the same warmth as it used to have. The only warmth he can feel is through you. The sun and fire can't compare to the warmth you give to the love he received from you. He's been so used to receiving it that it feels so weird not to have it.
Neuvillette continued his aimless walk, and raindrops continued to pour on him until an umbrella was placed above his head.
"I was worried. You weren't at your office or at home."
Neuvillette turned his body around, and he saw your figure, holding up an umbrella at his soaked form.
The rain suddenly got heavier.
You panicked as the rain poured with more vigour.
"H-Hey! W-Why are you even sa—"
For the second time this week, you had been cut off, but this time, in a way you love.
Neuvillette immediately hugged you as soon as he saw your figure, burying his face in your neck, hugging you tightly.
"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry, punish me all you want, but, please, don't leave me."
The rain got heavier, you sighed as you guessed that he's imagining you leaving him forever.
Holding the umbrella with one hand and other is hugging him back.
"Neuvillette, the time that you told me that you were the Hydro Dragon, the time that you put your trust in me. I already set my mind to never leave you ever since."
You look up at the rainy sky.
"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry."
You whispered softly at him. There it was, the warmth he had been craving for. The warmth he can only feel around you.
You hugged him tighter to comfort him. Slowly, the rain started to calm down until the sky I now clear and bright.
"Thank you, I'm really sorry."
Neuvillette kept apologizing and you shutted him up by kissing him.
"Just don't do it again, okay?"
You caressed his face as he slowly nodded. You smiled and pat his cheek softly.
"Now, come on. Let's take a bath, you're soaked, we don't want you to have a fever do we?"
Neuvillette chuckled and nodded. Holding your hand tightly as he followed you home like a lost puppy.
Having a dragon as your lover is certainly hard, but worth it.
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daycourtofficial · 4 months
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I’m Still Bejeweled
Summary: based on this ask - Azriel’s been busy lately with his work, unable to delegate. You’ve had enough and decide to try to get his attention by going out to Rita’s with Mor and Nesta.
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You knew what you signed up for when you started seeing Azriel. You knew at times it would be difficult due to his trauma and his job - which is why it surprised you easy it is to love him.
The past few weeks he has been flooded with work. Azriel is very good at his job, but his biggest flaw is his inability to delegate. You know most of his work right now could easily be delegated to the spies he trains himself, however that doesn’t make it easier for him to actually pass the task off to someone else.
You’re tired of asking him to take a day off, to see him more than at night when he comes to bed. You want to spend time with him outside of your bed, so you and Nesta decided to do something about it.
You were getting dressed, Azriel’s attention never straying from the papers at his desk as you do so. You contemplate the merits of this plan as you put your hair up to show off your neck and shoulders.
You’re wearing a dress Azriel bought you with the intention of taking it off of you. Pitch black, thin straps holding it up on your shoulders, a hemline that barely covers your behind, a triangular cutout across the top to peak at your breasts.
It was a dress that drove him wild - and he wouldn’t even look at you. Putting on your earrings and necklace, you take one final look and head out. Azriel’s attention be damned - you looked hot and you were going to have fun with Nesta and Mor no matter what.
Azriel didn’t look up until you had walked out the door of your room, his shadows urging him to look the whole time you were in the room.
Pretty, pretty, pretty.
Their whispers resounded in his ears, practically begging him to look up. He had gotten used to it over the years he had known you - his shadows thought you were the prettiest thing in the world, constantly annoyed when they couldn’t just look at you all day.
He glanced up in time to see your backside walking out and the realization of what dress you were wearing made him stand up, causing his knees to hit the desk.
He slides out from under the desk, abandoning his report in search of you. He remembered you saying something about Mor - dinner? Dancing?
He can’t recall, but he’s only ever seen you wear that dress to Rita’s, using it to keep him by your side all night. “You’ll have to spend the whole night by my side keeping others males away from me,” you had told him once.
He bats the memory away as he follows your scent through the house, attempting to intercept you before you left. Surely you weren’t leaving dressed like that without him.
Unfortunately Cassian decided to turn the corner at the exact moment Azriel was, causing the two to collide.
“Whoa where’s the fire?” Cassian asks, mocking his brother’s hurried steps. Cassian peers behind himself, at where you had just passed him a moment ago, and chuckles. Azriels growls in response, his instincts dialing up the further away from him you get. Cassian shakes his head and laughs at his brother, thumping his hands on his shoulders as he moves to pass him. “Ah, women. Wonderful creatures.”
Cassian walks away as Azriel continues following your scent. He knows you’re playing some kind of game, teasing him like a cat with a mouse, he just can’t figure out what the game is. He thinks back to your most recent discussions, only to come up a bit blank. His feet move down the steps of the house depositing him to the streets of Velaris, where your scent has mixed with Mor and Nesta’s. He keeps following you, thinking about your last conversation. You had asked him to take the day off, he had declined, keeping focus on the task he was doing.
He stops dead in his tracks, a pedestrian running into him at the abruptness of his stop. Oh Gods, he thinks, I didn’t even look at her. That conversation was days ago, surely he’s spoken to you since? Showed you love and affection?
His mind comes up empty, the days passing by him in a blur of papers and strategizing. When was the last time he kissed you? Held you? Talked to you?
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the Sidra as he picks up his pace again. Azriel has figured out what game you’re playing - you want him to grovel.
For you? Anything. He’d crawl to you if it’s what it took.
The sounds of Rita’s flood your senses as you dance with Mor and Nesta. You know Azriel isn’t purposely ignoring you, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. You decide to let go, enjoy the night, the music, the dancing.
The three of you take the dance floor, getting lost in the sounds, letting go of the stress the week brought. You don’t really even register the male dancing with you until you open your eyes and meet a green gaze.
He smiles at you, reaching out to put his hands on your waist when a larger make intercepts you, pushing the offering male out of the way.
“I believe I have first dance with the lady,” he says to you. The other male throws his hands up in shock, but quickly leaves at seeing the face of the male who took you.
“What’s a beautiful creature like you doing here?”
You turn to look at him, his hungry gaze taking in every inch of your dress. You smirk, staring into the hazel eyes you adore. Azriel has relaxed a bit now that you’re in his arms, a place where he doesn’t have to worry about fighting off other males.
“I was hoping I’d find a male who wants to actually spend time with me. My boyfriend won’t stop working and hardly makes time for me these days.”
You pout a little at him as he comes closer, swaying with the music a little. “He sounds like a fool, letting you come here alone, not paying you any heed.”
You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol warming your stomach as it went down. “He certainly is a fool. I’m much more interesting than silly reports he has to write.”
He smiles as he looks to the floor. “Can I dance with you?”
You tip your glass up to your mouth, finishing off your drink. “After you buy me another drink.”
He leads you to the bar, ordering what you had just finished off. The bartender hands it to you, and you ask him, “what brings you here?”
He smiles down at you, his hand going around your waist, “I had a feeling I’d find my future wife here tonight.”
You look around the bar, pointing over to the corner where Nesta stands. “Is that her? She looks delightful.”
Azriel follows your finger as Nesta gives him a scowl for 1) his earlier treatment of you and 2) for interrupting girl’s night. He laughs, offering her a two finger salute. She offers one finger in response.
“I am not a strong enough male for her.”
“I don’t think such a male exists.”
You face each other, leaning against the bar.
“What does she think of your inattentive boyfriend?”
You peak over at Nesta, who has moved back to dancing on the floor with Mor. “she thinks he’s usually better than this.”
“Oh?” He asks, quirking an eyebrow at you.
“She likes him a lot, just thinks his priorities weren’t in the right place for the past few weeks.”
He smiles, a hand caressing your waist. “So she likes the two of you together?”
You look into his face, meeting his gaze again. “Oh yeah. Just the other night she got drunk and went on and on to me about how much she liked us.”
His thumb starts grazing across your hip.
“She told me how she loves the way he looks at me.”
“And how does he look at you?”
You smile up at him, “supposedly like I’m the sun and the stars, like the lone light out on the open ocean.”
He smirks, “quite impressive to have him ensnared to you like that.”
Your eyes dance with the light of Rita’s, “I’m a great lay.”
He throws his head back and laughs, squeezing your hips. “Is that it? You seem like much more than that.”
Your hands connect with his hips, “and what do I seem like?”
His eyes have that look that only happens when he’s looking at you, the first of his undivided attention in so long causing you to buzz more than the alcohol could.
“Like what’s the point in doing things if you aren’t there? Like maybe life could be so much more than I ever imagined because of you. Like burdens aren’t so heavy if you’re holding my hand. Like I’ve never really taken a full breath before. You feel like a warm hearth and I’ve spent my entire life afraid of fire, but you taught me it can do more than burn.”
He reaches a hand out, moving a piece of your hair out of your face.
“At least, that’s what you seem like.”
Tears line your eyes at his words. The two of you have been together for years at this point, so his devotion is no secret. He was a man of few words, but he opened up to you more and more as time goes on. He whispers sweet words to you all the time, but never in such a public place.
He holds your face in his hands, so softly, as if he could shatter you.
“I would crawl home to you.”
You can’t take it anymore - this game, Rita’s, the hands on your hips. You surge forward, pulling his hips to you and your lips meet his. You pour everything into the kiss, pour everything into him. The neglect you’ve felt, the love you feel for him, how badly you want things to be okay.
The kiss starts off slow and hungry, his lips soft against your own. As it continues, it becomes more ravenous and harsh, and by the time you come up for air he’s winnowed the two of you home.
Your shared bedroom is dark and cold, but your body heat quickly warms the room. Azriel puts a hand on your jaw as he kisses down your neck, soft, delicate kisses.
“I’m sorry,” he says, a kiss between each word. “I neglected you.”
He pulls his head up to look at you. “Sometimes I’m still that little boy, unable to use his hands, feeling I need to prove myself to have a spot somewhere.”
He sighs, his grip tightening on you to remind himself that you’re here.
“Sometimes I just… feel like I have to keep proving myself to my family and that’s why I overwork myself.”
You touch his jaw, a movement he leans into. “You never have to prove yourself to me. And I promise - no one will find you unworthy if you delegate and take days off.”
He smiles into your hand. “And if they do - they’ll have to deal with me.”
He laughs fondly, “my attack dog girlfriend.”
You balk at his clear teasing. “I’ll have you know I’m quite scary and strong. In your absence these weeks I’ve been training with Cassian.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “and have you beaten Cassian in a fight?”
“No,” you sigh, “but once I was able to pants him, pushed him over and ran away.”
He throws his head back laughing, “well let’s hope any naysayers will be wearing pants for this altercation.”
You capture his laugh in a kiss, knowing that you’ve made progress with him. It will take time for him to learn how to delegate, but you feel confident he’ll get there.
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joelslastofus · 13 days
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[SUMMARY: Joel sleeps with his innocent married next door neighbor after fixing her sink.]
Smut
“He could see the guilt you felt, the confusion you felt when you suddenly smacked him across the face. He barely moved, accepting your hit with his hand still around your waist.”
The phone sitting right beside you, Joel could read the name on the called ID. It was your husband.
“Answer it” he whispered.
A tiny hint of Javier Peña in this
“Damn it, Henry” you sighed checking under your sink to see it was leaking much more than earlier. Of course your husband was coming home late once again from work leaving you to a messy kitchen. The water over flowing and it being late in the evening you knew no plumber would be available to come now. The thought of asking your neighbor Joel Miller was tempting but also a bit embarrassing this late in the day. Joel knew you and he knew your husband, the two of them weren’t exactly friends but whenever they’d see each other they’d have a quick talk about whatever game was going on. With a sigh you snapped yourself out of it and marched yourself to Joel’s front door.
It didn’t take long before Joel opened his door, intrigued to find you on the other end.
“Stella” he greeted you with half a smile.
“Hey, Joel…I’m sorry for bothering late. Henry won’t be back until God knows what time and my sink is leaking and-“
“Say no more,” he chuckled before calling out to Tommy letting him know where he would be.
Grabbing some tools from the back of his truck he followed you to your house right behind you. Not being able to stop himself from enjoying the view of the way you walked up the stairs, the move of your hips with each step his eyes were glued to your ass.
“Sorry again about this” he quickly looked up as you turned around opening the door for him.
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’” Joel always had a way with words, yet it wasn’t exactly what he said but more of how he said it.
Standing to the side you watched how he got to work under your sink. One of his legs lay flat while the other was bent, you couldn’t help but notice his navy blue shirt being pulled up slightly, revealing a light soft patch of hair that led to his-
“How long has this been like this?” Joel’s question distracting your thoughts, distracting your eyes.
“Oh uh-Henry tried to fix it but-“
“Yeah I could see that” he chuckled, his arms flexing as he worked. There you were again checking out Joel as he lay under your sink when your house phone rang.
“Not again, Henry” Joel heard you speak with disappointment, he couldn’t help but take a peak at you as stood by the counter.
“We’ve had to change it so many times, silly me for thinking you’d prioritize your wife” Joel looked down at you and watched as you sadly hung up the phone and pushed it aside. Before you knew it he was finished wiping his hands clean.
“That’s it?”
“Yes mam’” he smiled yet noticed the sadness in your eyes.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah” you sighed not being able to hide the disappointment you felt.
“Henry and I made four years last week and we’ve yet to celebrate it because theres always a reason for him to come home late, even bought this damn bottle of wine to surprise him,” you rolled your eyes. Joel tilted his head and crossed his arms listening to what you had to say.
“I can’t remember the last time we went on a date and we don’t even have children keeping us busy…ain’t that sad?” You chuckled sarcastically.
“I even bought this new stupid dress I’m wearing now to see if he’d like it and now I’m blabbing away-“
“You look beautiful in it” Joel’s compliment completely catching you off guard.
“Thank you” he watched as your eyes lit up before you realized you hadn’t even offered him a glass of water.
“Oh god, how rude am I? Would ya like a glass of water or tea? Coffee?”
“How about wine?” A playful look in his eyes as he motioned to the bottle you had just mentioned.
“You know what….why not?” You grabbed two glasses and the wine opener, pouring each a cup. Joel watched as you took a sip from your cup and tried to hold back a smile.
“What cha smiling about?” Joel asked with a smirk.
“If my husband knew I was standing here having wine with you-“ you laughed as he stepped closer to you.
“How would he feel about that? ” He asked curiously, a squint in his eyes.
“He probably wouldn’t like it” you looked down with embarrassment.
“Oh yeah?” He took another step closer.
“Or he’s probably too distracted right now with his secretary anyways too wonder what the hell I’m doing” you rolled your eyes before chugging the remainder of your wine. You always suspected your husband wasn’t faithful. Joel watched as you wiped your lips still lost in thought before you realized he was staring at you.
“Sorry- I know you don’t care to hear about any of that”
“Hmm..I don’t know darling I just find it hard to believe a man could get distracted with another woman when he has you at home” a light shade of red appearing on your cheeks as you quickly looked away. It had been a while since another man flirted with you so directly you didn’t know how to respond. Quickly pouring yourself another glass Joel chuckled as you chugged down what you poured. Silently he walked towards you, slowly pulling the glass away from your lips and setting it aside. You could feel your heart racing, leaning back against the counter as he looked down at your lips.
Was this actually happening?
“Joel” you whispered as his eyes found yours, his hands gently falling on your hips.
“You..you now I’m married..” you whispered as he pressed his body against yours. He was hesitant for a moment, analyzing your face.
“Happily?” His question making you react with a look of defeat.
No you weren’t happy, you hadn’t been for a long time and Joel could always see it whenever he saw you and your husband together yet you never expected this from Joel.
You couldn’t respond and before you even realized, he closed the distance between your lips and kissed you sending a shock through your body. Your eyes were open as he took you by surprise, his hand slowly closing around your waist pulling you harder against him before he gently parted away.
“I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t thought of doing this for some time now” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead.
“This ain’t very much gentleman like of me but for some reason….I don’t care” he smirked before kissing you again. This time you closed your eyes, your hands brushing up his chest and wrapping around his neck, your body melting into his. You were losing control forgetting what was right or wrong, he pushed aside the dishes behind you and quickly lifted you up onto the counter without parting his lips from yours. His hands sliding under your dress making you gasp and turn away from his lips.
“Joel….” You whispered. No other man beside your husband had touched you in almost a decade.
“I…I’ve never done this before…I have a husband” you spoke as if you were trying to remind yourself of the man you married. Joel could tell this was the first time any other man aside from your husband touched you. The thought giving him a rush.
Refusing to look up into his deep brown eyes barely able to make out your words you swallowed nervously.
“This is…it’s wrong” you made the mistake of looking up at him and found him staring at your lips, yearning to feel more of them.
“So tell me to stop” he whispered before looking up into your eyes.
“Tell me to stop and I promise I’ll leave, darlin’”
You knew you couldn’t.
You didn’t want him to.
Slowly you could hear the sound of him unbuttoning his jeans, his lips pressed against your cheek before slowly finding yours again. Joel knew you had never done something like this before, somehow that intrigued him more. He moved slowly, giving you the chance to stop him but he knew damn well you wouldn’t. Feeling his hands between your thighs you felt him slowly slide your underwear off your legs, throwing them to the side. Shoving your dress higher he positioned himself right at your entrance slowly sliding himself in you. Breathing each other in you moaned as his thrust pushed your body up against the wall. It felt exactly like you what you wanted.
What you needed.
Your arms slow grabbing onto his shoulders as he penetrated you deeply. A louder moan than you expected escaped your lips, Joel smirked looking down at how much you creamed all over his cock.
“Look at that..” he whispered roughly.
“Wanted it that bad, huh?” He thrusted harder when the house phone rang making you gasp. The phone sitting right beside you, Joel could read the name on the called ID.
It was your husband.
“Answer it”
“What?” You panted as he continued to move into you.
“Answer it” he demanded, his hand sliding behind your neck grabbing a chunk of your hair. A look you had never seen from him as he eagerly waited for you to do as he said.
Looking at the caller ID your heart sunk, what the hell was Joel thinking?
“Joel..I can’t” you whispered when he tugged at your hair.
“Yes you can” he held himself inside you deeply making you gasp.
“Hello?” You whispered, the phone shaking in your hand against your ear as Joel looked dead at you. Your husband of course making more excuses on how he would get home even later than he first said. Yet, for the first time in months…you didn’t care. Joel unexpectedly began to slam into you faster, a panic arising in your eyes as you felt yourself about to cum.
Your husband speaking as you attempted to control your breathing but at this level of pleasure it was impossible.
“I don’t know what damn time I’ll be home tonight so please don’t wait up for me, maybe I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t call my office either” Your husband continued as Joel watched your eyes begin to roll back. Biting his bottom lip as sweat dripped down his forehead he felt you tighten up around his cock.
“Hello? Are you even listening?!!” Your husband yelled when ecstasy exploded throughout your body.
“Yes!” You screamed uncontrollably, the phone slipping from your hands falling into pieces onto the floor. Grabbing onto Joel you moaned as he watched an orgasm take over you completely.
“Please…please-“ you begged as your body arched against him. Joel grunted pulling your hips closer to him thrusting his hips against you as you came.
“Joel…” you whispered, your body collapsing back against the wall. Out of breath you could barely say a word Joel quickly pulled out and came on your thigh making a sound of sweet relief.
A twist of emotions exploding through your chest. A pleasure you had never felt before mixed with a guilt you never knew you could feel.
“Oh my god…” you whispered as he turned away fixing himself up. Grabbing some paper towels you cleaned yourself off still in shock with what you had just done. Getting off the counter your legs felt like jello practically making you lose your balance. Joel quickly turned and held you up by your waist as you looked up at him feeling confused yet you didn’t know what to say. He could see the guilt you felt, the confusion you felt when you suddenly smacked him across the face. He barely moved, accepting your hit with his hand still around your waist. You attempted to push his hand off before he abruptly pulled you tighter against him. You gasped not expecting his reaction as he stared down at you intensely not saying a word.
“You-“ Joel grabbed your face pressing his lips to yours as you struggled to push away for just a second, his hands grabbing your wrists before you melted once again in his arms. Parting his lips from you he looked down breathlessly.
“It’s alright” he whispered as you looked up at him innocently. He knew what he had just done, but Joel didn’t regret it, hell he wished he could stay with you.
Kissing your forehead he silently left your home as you stood against the counter in shocker. Your phone still on the floor, your underwear right beside it with a drop of his cum you had noticed.
What the hell did this mean?
Joel went to his home and walked in casually passing Tommy who sat at the table eating a sandwich. Tommy didn’t even get to say a word with how quickly Joel hid himself in the bathroom starting the shower.
Staring at himself in the mirror he didn’t know what to feel. This wasn’t like Joel to sleep with a married woman yet the guilt he felt was more from you. The look in your eyes as you had realized what you had done he felt responsible for…yet he couldn’t keep himself away….
Part 2?
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msbigredmachine · 30 days
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Black Sweatpants (Roman Reigns)
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Why did the Tribal Chief arrive late to the Pat McAfee Show? Based on Roman's appearance on March 22 2024. Pat was forced to cut a promo on the fly because Roman took too long to come out 😂
Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC
Word Count: 1.8k
Warning: Smut
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You knew he would get out there late, and you accepted full responsibility. But given the way you were getting dicked down right now, it was totally worth it.
Your blood-red lace thong dangled from your right ankle as Roman jackhammered into you, his thick shaft stuffed inside your tender walls. Biting down on your bottom lip, you wrapped your arms tight around the big man, long-awaited pleasure coursing down your spine all the way to your pastel-colored toes as he pounded you out in the corner of the spacious locker room.
"Oh, ohhh fuck," you couldn't help but cry out at one particularly deep thrust.
"Keep it down before someone comes in here," he growled. Hunched over you, the wicked gleam in his eyes watching you struggle to suppress your moans, told you he was relishing every second of your agony.
"I'm trying, you ain't helping," you whined back.
"Not hard enough," he countered, nudging your legs wider and making you watch his dick disappear inside your wetness. He slapped your hand away when you placed it on his abs to push him back because he was getting too deep. "Naw, you wanted this dick all day, you better take it now..."
When you ordered the new all-black hoodie and joggers set from Nike for Roman, you knew he would look good in it. However, when he returned for his scheduled private flight to Iowa for Pat McAfee's show wearing it, you didn't expect him to look that good. And you certainly did not expect his dick print to be on display like that. You had endured three tortuous weeks of no sex because he'd been away spending time with his two kids he shared with his ex-wife. So you were excited to have him back, and judging from that not-so-little bulge between his legs, he was excited to see you too. You could all but see it, that long, thick brown cock that time and again wreaked the unholiest of havoc in you, protruding against the cotton material and calling for your attention. But the man had the gall to play hard to get, deliberately spurning your advances, acting all platonic and professional, like the rest of his team didn't already know you were lovers. Never one to back down, you ramped up your actions, rubbing his inner thigh throughout the flight and on the ride to Field House, brushing your body against him every chance you got, teasing him right back, trying to get him to crack. As soon as he ordered everyone out of his locker room just minutes after arriving, you knew you succeeded.
Roman planted wet kisses along the side of your neck, the soft prickles of his thick beard unleashing another flood between your legs. His hulking body stretched over yours, his sweatpants rolled down to just underneath the curve of his ass cheeks for the purpose of this quickie. He was so hard inside you, demanding your pleasure as he impaled you with no mercy, his tempo hot and frenetic from the very start. His big hand slipped from your breast downwards to twirl his fingertips around your clit, your throaty whines music to his ears as your sweet moisture pooled around his fingers. The squelching noise pierced the air that was already thickened by your heavy breaths and his hips smacking into yours.
"Mmm, wet as fuck, just the way I like it," Roman grunted, leaning down to suckle on your left nipple, his saliva smearing the puckered skin when he released it with a wet pop, "I can tell you was goin' crazy without this dick, right, baby?"
"Yes, and yet your punk ass still ignored me all day, too fuckin' busy making your damn TikTok videos," you griped.
"Quit your whining, Daddy always gives you what you want in the end. Unh, how you feel so good all the time? I love it," he moaned, his brown irises rolling back briefly before they landed on yours again in an intense stare. Through the lustful haze of passion, you felt your heart thumping rapidly inside your chest as you looked into his eyes. It didn't matter if you were having sex or not; it always sped up in his mere presence.
You fell in love with him not long after you became his personal assistant a year and a half ago. You worked hard to please him, on the job and off it, and he showed you his gratitude in a plethora of ways, carnal and otherwise. You were a walking cliché, but you couldn't care less, not when it bagged you a man like that. The sex appeal oozed from his pores. He was confident and self-assured and had worked his ass off to get to where he was today. He got along with all of his team, was a decent and fair employer, and was generous to a fault, showering his staff with presents on birthdays and Christmases. The diamond pendant he gifted you for Valentine's Day currently hid between your cleavage he was kneading with his big hands. He was everything you could ask for in a boss and a boyfriend, which was honestly an impressive feat.
You placed one hand behind his neck and tugged him down to flick your tongue inside his warm mouth. His thrusts remained indulgent as you kissed hungrily, branding you, marking you, wiping out everything from your mind except the euphoric feeling that engulfed you every time he kissed and fucked you dumb. He pushed your dress further up your waist and gathered your supple ass cheek in his competent hand, lifting you right up against him. He was all up in your stomach and your walls suckled his cock greedily, holding him in a vice-like grip. The gruff yet sensual sounds pouring from him teased your core, making you need more of it, more of him.
"Awww, shit, yes," Your eyes fluttered shut when he began to wind his hips, circling clockwise and then in reverse, the head of his cock churning your sweet spot, his triumphant growl accompanying every thrust. In and out, in and out, the erotic loop punctuated by the low, husky groans of your Tribal Chief, causing your head to rock back from blinding bliss. "Ooooh baby, baby right there, ahh," you whimpered.
"Uh huh, I'm deep in that shit. Got this pussy feelin' good, huh?" Roman said, his haughty taunts disappearing in another moan as your pussy rippled around his dick over and over. He kept up his grinding strokes which seemed to intensify the throatier and more desperate your moans grew, as though the mere sound of them fueled his ruthlessness. His paw curled around your throat, his display of dominance leaving you a sopping, dripping mess as he made you take every inch of him. You were dizzy, on the verge of falling apart, and your body burned for release, yet all you could do was hold on while this man continued to destroy you, rendering you helpless and pathetic and under his heady spell.
"I'm gonna come, Daddy," you gasped. Your fingernails clawed at his forearm holding your neck, moaning his name as he fucked you harder, making sure there was no way you would last long with the kind of pounding he was giving you right now.
"Mmm-hmm, come on my dick, give it to me," he ordered, barely hanging on himself. He groaned as your pussy walls held his cock hostage, making him swell inside you as his climax beckoned. "Fuck, babe, ahhh, fuck..."
Burying your face in his broad chest, you barely kept your scream muffled as your orgasm tore through you, your body arching, legs trembling around his waist as you came hard. Time and space and coherence blurred into one sensual puddle. His heavy weight almost smothered you as he chased his own orgasm, his eyes glazing over in a telltale sign that he was right there with you. His hips jerked as his dick began to throb and twitch inside you, and you gasped at the feel of his seed spilling inside your walls, his big body shivering from the force of his release, his deep voice exhaling guttural moans as he succumbed to you. It felt so good, feeling him fall with you, toppling over the precipice of pleasure together.
After he finally caught his breath, Roman shifted back a bit to observe you, taking in your face, flushed with satisfaction, your lips plumped and ravaged by his own. You looked damn beautiful, and he showed you by brushing your mouths together in the gentlest, sweetest kisses.
"Happy now?" he smirked.
You grinned from ear to ear. "Very happy, Daddy. I've missed you. Love you so much."
"I love you too, baby," he replied with one last soft kiss, both of you moaning as his drained dick slipped out of your warm confines. You dragged yourself to a seated position when he climbed off you and hurriedly tugged his pants back up. Adjusting your dress, you checked your watch and sighed. "Great, you're two minutes behind schedule. You're not even mic'd up yet," you said, fishing out Roman's bottle of Jean-Paul Gaultier cologne from his backpack and giving the room a few quick spritzes to stifle the cloying scent of your latest sexscapade.
"Well, Pat's gonna have to wait," he answered flippantly as he raked his hair back into its trademark bun. He watched you reach for your underwear that had tangled around your foot and beat you to the punch, snatching up the tiny scrap of lingerie and tucking it into his back pocket.
"Roman!" you exclaimed.
"What? It's mine now," he declared, grabbing his gold championship belt and standing to his full height. You bit your lip as you drank him in, your gaze stopping between his sturdy thighs. You just had sex but you found yourself getting aroused again.
"Your dick print is still showing," you pointed out, licking your lips reflexively.
"Course it is, I got that thang on me," he bragged, smoothing his big hand over his groin, his body tingling from the memory of your delicious warmth. Noticing the heat in your eyes, he smiled that suggestive half-smile of his and tapped your backside. "Down, baby girl, Daddy's gotta go to work. You can have me all you want after TV tonight."
As you followed him out of the locker room and stepped into the cold sunshine, you caught the slightly pronounced limp in your man's walk, his glowing, kiss-swollen features, the extra width in his smile, and beamed with pride.
Yeah, I did that shit.
THE END
--------------
Another short one. Thoughts?
I have a few more Roman ones I'm working on and hope to get out soon.
Thank you all so much for reading!
Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.
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folkloresthings · 9 months
Text
BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.
in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.
( charles leclerc x singer!au )
track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.
✩⡱ warnings: like one curse word
INSTAGRAM.
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liked by oliviarodrigo, charlieputh, and 738,928 others
yourusername baby’s too pretty to be put in the corner
view all 56,914 comments
landonorris BARK BARK
user mother is mothering
sza i’m so in love with you it’s silly
charles_leclerc pretty indeed
⤷ user unhinged charles spotted
⤷ user he’s making moves people!!!
lewishamilton are y’all seeing what i’m seeing
yourusername added to their story!
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TWITTER.
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the pre—race buzz was electric in the ferrari garage, your phone pinging with messages beckoning you to the mercedes garage on the other end of the paddock. you knew lewis wanted to see you, he’d been the one to invite you to the race in the first place, but there was something pulling you to the room filled with red. someone.
“hello again,” your smile widened across your face as charles dodged past mechanics to find you by the wall. his decorated race suit adored his lean figure, but his head was still free of his helmet, despite the clock ticking closer to when he needed to be in the car.
that godforsaken smile of his mirrored your own, knees wobbling as soon as it graced your gaze. without thinking, his arms pulled you into a hug. a friendly one, to be sure. a happy to see you, no matter how your heart yearned for another reason. the emerald in his eyes shone down at you, that same look he’d given you when you’d first met all those weeks ago backstage before your show.
and now here you were, after weeks of texts and late night calls, staring at each other through a fog of tension, waiting with bated breath. he speaks first, and you try so desperately to ignore how his gloved fingers brush your wrist when he does.
“what are you doing tonight?”
you blink, his eyes hopeful for an answer. your head shakes, shoulders shrugging, brain nagging to be an ounce cooler than you were being right now. “i don’t know. why?”
“let me take you to dinner. it’ll be my prize, if i win,” he speaks quickly, as though he needs to say it before hesitancy can change his mind. that familiar lump of nerves turns in your stomach, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. not since austin first asked you out — a feeling that had ended in catastrophe. could you face that kind of tumble again?
“charles, you have to go!” a voice nearby urges, every other driver already behind their wheels. urges him to move, and you to answer. his feet are moving backwards, slowly, but his eyes stay trained on you, awaiting your reply.
“well, you’d better win then.”
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INSTAGRAM.
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername, and 762,629 others
charles_leclerc P1!!! so happy with today’s result, thanks to everyone who got me there ♥️ time to celebrate (even more)
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scuderiaferrari YES! 🍾🍾🍾
user THE THIRD PIC???
⤷ user bro thinks he’s slick
yourusername congrats again!! super duper proud 💌
⤷ user the hair in the pic looks so much like hers oml
⤷ user she literally just got out of a relationship like five minutes ago
yourusername i think i trust you enough to teach me to drive now
⤷ charles_leclerc only now? ouch, my heart ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
⤷ lewishamilton STOP FLIRTING
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yourusername what the fuck is patience?
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charli_xcx damned if i know
pheobebridgers a man? 🤢🤢🤢
⤷ yourusername so true bbz
user SQUINTING to see who the guy is
⤷ user maybe it’s just a friend?? who cares
⤷ user puh lease he got her flowers
charles_leclerc nice flower arrangement
⤷ yourusername i know a sexy florist, want his # ?
user I MOVED
TWITTER.
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writer’s note: they’re getting there 😭 i’m emotionally attached to this fictional couple i can’t. fyi this is just a filler to move them along there’ll be drama soon dw
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loaksky · 8 months
Note
Hi I was wondering if you wrote or if you will write a part 2 to neighbour Ellie x reader, cause I would love to see how their relationship will progress and maybe there can be a bit of jealous Ellie and insecure reader, in like maybe they meet their exes or something like that
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neighbor!ellie x sunshine!fem reader, hurt + comfort / fluff / smut MDNI!! or we’re beefing!! / established relationship, wc: 5.2k
synopsis: things between you and ellie seem to be going great! that is until you pay her a visit at work to drop off lunch and find that the threads that tie her and an overfriendly coworker tangle too much for your liking.
content warnings: language, slightly mean!ellie makes a return, reader isn’t necessarily insecure, but a little unsure of the circumstances, 18 + content / filthy make-up sex that consists of: brief shower-sex, scissoring, fingering / oral (reader & ellie!receiving), thigh-riding, so much kissing and mushy feelings.
author’s note: in love with this idea ! been mulling over how to expand on their relationship & i feel like this is a great segue ! hcs below; leave some more scenarios for existing couples (emt!abby, collegebff!ellie or others) and i’ll answer them ! (also not proofread well like usual lmao)
main masterlist | tlou masterlist
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jealous!ellie & jealous!reader are SO different, but i feel like the outcome would be so…YUM.
feel like you’d be more reserved about being jealous.
like lately, it seems like things between you and ellie seem like they can’t get any better.
the two of you spend so much time together, whether it’s having picnics in the park with some pastries you make, testing out recipes after close at your cafe or having sleepovers at one or the other’s apartment.
ellie’s lowkey obsessed with you and at times it makes you blush because after the initial stages of feeling your relationship out, you find that ellie’s extremely vocal and outright with her affection for you.
and for the longest time, you don’t question it. don’t really say much because ellie’s particularly good at reassuring you even if you don’t ask.
it’s why you think you’re overreacting when you decide to surprise her and bring her lunch on a random afternoon in the middle of the week.
the top half of her coveralls hangs around her hips, dirtied white tank exposing tanned, inked flesh and lean muscle when you enter the lobby.
she’s leaning against one of the tool carts with her arms crossed over her chest, gaze unwavering.
when you trace her eyeline, you realize there’s another girl nearby bent under the hood of a shiny red car.
she says something imperceptible and suddenly ellie’s throwing her head back with a laugh, sound muffled by the sliding plexiglass.
“hey, receptionist is on break, can i help you with something?” a mechanic is poking his head into the lobby from an adjoining office.
“uh, i’m here for ellie?” the mechanic’s glancing through the glass into the main garage before standing from his rolling chair to dust his hands on his coveralls.
“yeah, she’s supposed to be watching the front,” he laughs. “too busy flirting with her lil girlfriend to pay attention.”
he doesn’t notice the way your face falls or how you almost drop the little canvas bag altogether.
you chance another glance at the two, find that the girl has emerged from under the hood and you swallow hard because god, she’s so fucking pretty.
doesn’t help that seeing her and ellie side-by-side makes you wonder if the two of you look that good together.
they look like they were made for each other and they even share similar interests! you don’t know a damned thing about cars and ellie’s gaze nearly glazes over every time you’re talking about your recipes and coffee pairings.
“uh, actually,” you stop him. “i don’t think she was expecting me, so i’ll just drop this off.”
he pauses.
“you sure? i can get her real quick, she’s not busy.”
ellie still hasn’t clocked you, so you shake your head.
“it’s fine,” you assure him. “i’ll talk to her later.”
he merely shrugs, meets you halfway for the canvas bag, and you’re quickly ducking out of the garage.
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“babe?”
ellie’s right on the dot, you realize, when you hear her through the cracked sliding door to the balcony.
you’ve just finished watering your plants and now you’re jotting down a quick brainstorm for the upcoming spring launch.
through the window, you see ellie kicking her shoes off at the entrance before assessing her surroundings and poking her head into your bedroom for good measure.
“babe?” she calls out.
you stand, tucking the little notebook under your arm before sliding back inside.
she seems to light up when she sees you, crossing the living room to meet you halfway.
“hey, els.”
you’re letting her engulf you in a hug, arms wrapping around your waist as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.
“missed you today,” she hums, rocking your weight from side to side.
“missed you too,” you say gently.
ellie’s pulling away a short distance, finger bumping under your chin so you’ll look up at her.
“why didn’t you say hi when you stopped in today?” she nearly pouts. “zack came in when we were slow and said that someone dropped something off for me.”
you shrug, unable to tell her that insecurity was rearing its ugly head and you didn’t know how to deal with it in that moment.
“my girl didn’t wanna eat with me?”
“sorry,” you mumble, burning up under the heat of her gaze. “i couldn’t stay long.”
her brows are furrowing, hands coming up to smooth your hair from your face and brush over your shoulders.
“everything okay, babe?”
you nod once, then twice.
“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?”
ellie’s watching you closely, fingers cupping your neck.
“talk to me,” she encourages softly. “did something happen?”
you swallow, shake your head, and put on your most convincing smile before leaning up to give her a peck on the lips.
“m’okay,” you tell her.
she doesn’t look convinced, but she also doesn’t wanna pry.
changes the subject instead.
“so does this mean, you’ll swing by and actually hang out with me soon?” she asks, body relaxing when you start smoothing over the wrinkles in her coveralls as a distraction.
you nod, smile widening when she starts peppering kisses all over your face.
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for a little bit, you forget about ellie’s coworker and you forget about the comment that zack made, but then you’re popping in again almost two weeks later.
they’re shoulder to shoulder in the body shop, looking at something under the hood of a silver pick up truck. ellie’s engrossed, but the girl’s fullblown staring, paying no mind to whatever ellie’s explaining in the engine bed.
makes you sick to your stomach thinking that if ellie so much as chances a glance, their noses could brush.
“hey receptionist is— oh.”
it’s zack, the same mechanic from last time.
he’s wiping his hands on an old towel as he emerges from one of the bays.
“ellie!” he shouts past the propped open door.
she nearly jumps out of her skin, parting from her coworker as she throws a cross look over her shoulder.
“your girl’s here,” he announces.
ellie’s straightening up, craning her neck even more before her face splits into a bright smile.
she’s abandoning the girl by the truck, jogging across the body shop to duck into the lobby.
“hi, angel.”
your cheeks warm when she slides her arm around your waist to pull you into her.
“gonna go on lunch break, don’t wait up,” she calls & you’re sparing the girl near the truck a glance.
her name’s emma if the stitching on the right breast of her coveralls is anything to go by.
she makes a show of taking you in from head to toe before her gaze cuts to zack and they seemingly share a wordless exchange.
oh.
you have no clue what to make of that, but ellie’s steering you from the lobby and out into the crisp air.
it’s still a little chilly outside, but you’re wearing one of ellie’s favorite sweatshirts and she’s shrugging on a hoodie hanging from a coatrack by the door.
“my truck?” she offers when a chill rips down your spine.
you only hum.
when the two of you are settled, her in the driver’s seat and you in the passenger’s, she’s taking the little bag with lunch containers and setting it on her dash before pulling you towards her to eliminate every inch of space between the two of you.
“whaddya doing?” you sigh out a laugh.
“i missed you,” ellie says simply.
“ellie, you slept over last night,” you squeak out a breathy laugh when her ice cold hands slide under the warmth of the red fleece. “we saw each other this morning.”
“so?” she replies petulantly. “wanna be with you all the time.”
you’re wearing a turtleneck underneath the sweatshirt so she’s nosing along your jaw before pressing a few soft kisses there.
“you’re so clingy recently, els,” you giggle, arms winding around her neck.
“duh.” and your belly flips when she doesn’t even deny it. “you’re so fucking cute and i just wanna keep you in my pocket all the time.”
that earns her a full-hearted laugh and you really begin to wonder why you let that girl with her stupidly perfect blown out hair and stupidly rounded ass and the most stupidly pretty face ever make you question your ellie.
you live in bliss for the duration of her forty-five minute break where she does a whole lot of eating, but not necessarily the food you made for her.
the windows are equal parts fogged and frosted by the time she’s done with you and you’re shimmying your jeans back up in the back seat of her truck as she shrugging the top half of her discard coveralls and her hoodie back on again.
“you didn’t even touch to food i made you,” you whine.
“i’ll eat it on my ten,” she assures you, and your toes curl when she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.
“liked what i had for lunch better,” she says so casually, your cheeks are on fire.
“ellie!”
“definitely need dessert when i get home,” she insinuates, leaning her weight over your blissed out body.
she plants a kiss on your mouth before climbing back into the front seat.
but, in the lobby, when she’s bidding you a farewell with another peck on the lips, promising she’ll try to come home early, you notice emma’s eyes again. they’re searing, laced with obvious annoyance.
ellie’s returning to her duties and you’re ducking into their restroom for a moment to splash your face with cool water.
ellie’s never given you a reason to doubt her, has been a perfect girlfriend since the beginning, but you can’t help yourself.
especially not when you’re ducking out and you hear it.
“so i’m not the only one surprised that her girl looks like that?” you think it’s zack, but you can’t be so sure.
“i dunno, she’s hot, but they don’t really match,” another voice sounds. “especially since her last…thing was with emma.”
and, wow, fuck, you hadn’t been expecting that.
“damn, i forgot about that,” maybe zack says. “it was at the party mel and them threw, right? when they fucked?”
you’d wanted to give the benefit of the doubt. maybe they’d been a thing once upon a time, kissed on occasion, but hearing it put so crassly makes you feel like you’re gonna throw up.
the bell’s tinkling hard against the glass when you throw the door open.
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and perhaps the situation with finding out about ellie and emma goes hand-in-hand with the way ellie experiences her jealousy.
maybe the fact that ellie still works closely with a previous situationship and is obviously on friendly terms with makes you withdraw a little.
you’re spending a lot more time at your cafe, readying for spring launch and brainstorming new recipes.
you don’t want to bore ellie, especially when you’ve been so in your head about everything lately, so you’re putting in more hours, coming home late at night.
truthfully, ellie’s devastated because she misses her girl :/ why are you always so busy suddenly?
so when a familiar face comes poking into the cafe a few weeks down the line, your eyes are as wide as saucers.
“wow, alex, is that you?”
she’s an ex who’d moved abroad for work a few years back. and the break up had been amicable enough, but she’d moved on and so had you.
the only contact the two of you keep is the occasional comment on social media and a text or two during the holidays.
she’s grinning ear-to-ear.
“what are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, setting the rag down on the bartop to round the counter.
you’d been in the middle of prepping to close up shop when the bells chimed against the glass.
“visiting my parents for a few weeks,” she answers. “thought i’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
“great, i’m doing great,” you assure her with a warm smile. “what about you? how’s germany?”
“definitely miss the food here sometimes, but you know,” she shrugs and you’re letting out a laugh. “and...julia’s pregnant.”
and your brows are shooting up, arms wrapping around her middle.
“alex, that’s so exciting!” you cheer. “congratulations.”
her cheeks are red when you pull away.
“yeah,” she says softly, eyes gentle. “i’m so excited.”
and you’re glad to hear that things are working out for her, that she’s established herself well and she’s building the family she’s always dreamed of.
“and you?” she asks.
“what about me?”
“are you seeing anyone?”
it’s your turn to warm, fidgeting under her expectant gaze.
“i am,” you confirm.
her smile widens
“that’s great,” she says genuinely. “i’m glad. i hope they make you happy.”
and it really makes you draw into yourself for a moment because ellie does. she makes you so fucking happy, you don’t know what to do with yourself sometimes.
“yeah,” you hum. “she’s great.”
the two of you end up catching up a little as you close, and she even takes you up on your offer of visiting again for a tasting before she leaves!
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and this is most likely what sends ellie over the edge.
at first she didn’t know why you were suddenly so distant, knew you were dedicated, but didn’t know why you were so invested as of late.
recently, it’s been her popping into your apartment, but being disappointed to find that you’re not even home.
and the days that she does catch you, you’re pecking her on the lips and rushing out the door.
makes ellie question if there’s something she should be paying closer attention to.
honestly, she’s just really worried that she did something wrong, so as she’s trekking up the sidewalk to approach your little cafe with a bundle of cute flowers around 10 in the evening, she’s feeling a weird sense of deja vu.
finds that the open sign has been flipped and that the lights are dim, but nearly trips over her steps when she peers inside and sees you behind the counter.
you’re not alone, a tall figure leaned up against the bartop, obviously deeply interested in whatever you’re animatedly talking about.
you’re still wearing your apron, hair falling from its hold and a lump is lodging its way into ellie’s throat.
tugs gently on the handle to see that it’s locked and the motion catches both you and your company’s attention.
god, whoever you’re with is an absolute stunner and ellie’s swallowing hard as you round the counter and flit through the tables to come let her in.
“els, what are you doing here?” you ask, smiling softly.
barely registers what you’re saying because the girl you’re with has straightened and there’s something so put together and elegant about the brunette that makes a pang of insecurity begin to coil in ellie’s stomach.
“wanted to see you,” she says simply.
“oh,” you reply. “we were just finishing up here, i would’ve been home in like an hour.”
and that leaves such a sour taste in her mouth because a lot can happen in an hour, in forty-five minutes even.
“great, i’ll walk you home,” ellie says, tone pinched.
your brows furrow and you’re opening your mouth to ask ellie if everything’s fine, but alex is placing a casual hand on your shoulder to remind you she’s there and ellie can’t help but zero in on the way her slender fingers curl.
“alex,” she introduces, offering her other hand.
“ellie,” your girlfriend bites back, glancing at alex’s outstretched palm before glancing back up at her.
there’s a twinkle of knowing in alex’s eye as she nods thoughtfully.
“heard a lot about you,” she says simply.
ellie merely hums.
and god, you’re mortified because you’d spent the entire night raving about ellie even though alex was supposed to be giving you feedback on launch ideas.
you’d told her how kind and great ellie was. instead, here she is, ice cold and glaring.
“well...” alex turns her attention to you. “i really appreciate tonight, everything was phenomenal.”
you preen under the praise and ellie’s rolling her eyes, fist tightening around the stems of the flowers.
“of course, anytime,” you assure her. “thank you for visiting me again.”
and seeing the two of you side-by-side, ellie feels so small. because you’ve always been so pretty, so out of her league and the two of you look like a match made in heaven.
“always,” alex replies, and ever the instigator, she adds, “text me when you get home?”
“i will,” you tell her, brushing past ellie to lock her out. “goodnight, alex, be safe!”
she says something in return that evades ellie’s hearing, but she’s far too livid to even tune in.
you’ve barely locked the door behind her when ellie’s voice cuts through the tense air.
“who the fuck was that?” she asks sharply.
you turn on your heel, brows dipping because ellie’s rarely let her anger get the best of her.
“ellie, what are—”
“i asked you a question,” she says firmly.
you roll your lips, gaze downcast because such a good moment has been obliterated by ellie’s fiery temper.
“we dated a few years ago,” you answer honestly. “she was back in town for the next few weeks and i wanted to do something nice.”
ellie lets out a humorless laugh.
“so i’ve been worried sick for weeks because you wanna ghost me when you’ve really been parading around with your ex?” ellie huffs.
and okay, wow, you hadn’t really expected that from her because your ellie is usually relatively level-headed.
“this is only the second time i’ve seen her, ellie,” you argue. “we were friends way before we even dated and it was a clean break up. we were just catching up.”
ellie’s tossing the bouquet of flowers, now crushed by her unrelenting fist, onto the nearest table top.
“just catching up, huh?” she mocks. “so a romantic set up, just the two of you, is just catching up? you said not to wait up for you because you’d be caught up with work. good to know that screwing your ex is—”
“this is work,” you bite back. “i’ve been trying to get my bearings for this upcoming launch and she was kind enough to put up with all my crazy ideas and all my rambling,” then quietly, “given ninety percent of it was about you.”
“what, you couldn’t ask me?” ellie huffs. “you know i’d help you if you wanted me to!”
“i didn’t ask because i know all this shit bores you,” you say weakly. “alex was just being nice.”
that shuts ellie up, douses her anger like a bucket of ice cold water on a fire. and now she feels like a piece of shit because she hadn’t known that you felt that way.
“and she’s engaged,” you add, pulling away from her when she takes a step towards you. instead you busy yourself with gathering your spread and all the silverware. “they’re expecting a child.”
and fuck, ellie wishes she’d slowed down. wishes that she hadn’t talked out of her ass.
“i didn't—”
“you’re one to talk, ellie,” you add coldly. “you work in close proximity with a girl you used to fuck regularly. you’re still friends with her, and it’s obvious to every single soul imaginable that i’m just an obstacle to her and that she’s still interested. but i didn’t say anything even if it fucking ate away at me because i know you. you’ve never given me a reason to doubt us.”
that knocks that wind from ellie’s lungs because she hadn’t realized that you knew. just wanted to sweep it under the rug because her and emma were never serious and she didn’t want you worrying.
“wait, angel, i’m sorry,” ellie says. “i—”
you shake your head.
“whatever, ellie,” you whisper. “i have to close up.”
“c’mon, babe, don’t—”
“i don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” you cut her off. “i’ll be home soon, but i wanna be alone right now.”
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when you get home and see ellie’s sneakers by the door, you take in a deep breath and try to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable conversation, but instead, you’re met with the smell of your favorite take out and a soft murmur from your vinyl player in the living room.
when you make it to the end of the corridor to peer into the kitchen, you see ellie taking down a few plates.
she’s glancing over her shoulder, body seemingly relaxing when she finds you standing in the archway of the kitchen.
“hey,” she greets softly, and you belatedly realize that her voice is hoarse.
“hi,” you reply.
“wanna eat first?” she asks you, but you don’t answer, too busy analyzing her.
you put two and two together; figure that she’s been crying if the red bags under her eyes and the dying flush on her cheeks is anything to go by.
she takes a step towards you and you seem to snap out of it.
“wanna shower first,” you tell her.
you hear her gulp.
“okay,” she says.
and you hate this. you hate being upset and you hate that she’s upset and knowing that ellie cried makes you wanna cry, so you’re taking a step towards her.
she’s glancing at you.
“shower with me?” you offer timidly.
ellie’s pushing off the counter, nodding eagerly.
and truthfully, ellie had every intention of keeping her hands to herself, but then you were asking her to help work the soap down your back.
then you were turning to face her to rinse under the stream of the showerhead. the sudsy water’s making its way down the column of your throat and the curves of your body and ellie’s tongue is so dry, she feels like it could crack in her mouth.
her hands settle on the narrow of your waist, right over the swell of your hips as she presses open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
“i’m so sorry, angel,” she whispers, hands sliding to rest against the small of your back.
you give in even though you’re still in your head, arms looping around her neck as she brushes your hair to one side and starts paying a lot more attention to the spot right behind your ear.
“s’okay, els,” you assure her softly. “i’m sorry, too. i was being a brat.”
your fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of her neck, breath hitching when she grabs a palmful of your ass and breaks away from your neck to catch your lips between her own.
“you don’t know how much i love you,” she murmurs between kisses, sighing brokenly when the plush of your tits presses against her sensitive nipples.
you moan when one of her hands slides down your front and gently brushes over your clit.
“ellie,” you whimper.
“let me show you?”
your head is lolling back when the pads of her calloused fingers circle your entrance to gather the slick that’s accumulating there.
you nod.
“yeah, yeah, ellie, please,” you choke.
she’s reaching behind you to turn the shower off, ducking outside of the tiled space to grab your towel.
and she’s slow, meticulous as she dries you off, mouth watering when the cool air of the bathroom makes gooseflesh ripple over your smooth skin.
“you’re so fucking perfect,” ellie whispers, standing behind you in the mirror. “so fucking perfect and all mine.”
your eyelids are drooping shut as she discards the towel, hands wandering as her teeth sink into your neck.
“oh, fuuu—”
ellie’s jostling you back into your bedroom. when she’s about to push you back against the mattress, you’re spinning so that she’s falling against the unmade duvet, taking you with her.
and ellie’s gaze is glazing over when you spread her legs to reveal a pussy slick with need and a clit so swollen, it makes you salivate.
“what are you doing?” she whispers, fingertips denting the fat of your thighs.
“wanna ride you, els,” you whimper, climbing to straddle her heat. “wanna take care of you.”
one of her legs stretches to settle over your shoulder and you’re kissing her calf as your clits bump.
“fuck,” ellie chokes when you start rolling your hips. “fuck, wait, angel, just—”
the slip is delicious, obscene sound of your combined arousal echoing through the room to mingle with ellie’s throaty moans.
ellie’s used to watching you ride her strap, used to fucking you and giving you everything because it’s one of the things that makes her the happiest, but, fuck, she could get used to this.
“you gonna cream all over my pussy, ellie?” you whine, pace relentless as you ride her.
she lets out a breathy laugh.
“you feel how wet i am?” ellie gasps, thumb coming to nestle between your heat. the friction feels so fucking good against your clit, has you throwing your head back as you fuck her. “god, you’re fucking delusional if you think i’m not a hundred and ten percent obsessed with you.”
“oh fuck, ellie, your pussy feels s’good,” you whine, eyes watering when her other hand settles on your hip to guide you.
“does it, angel?” she moans breathily. “only you can get me like this.”
“you’re so wet, els,” you marvel. “your cunt’s so soft and so...so—”
“it’s all yours,” she whispers shakily, hips jerking because she’s close. “all yours, angel.”
and she’s crying out when you slip off of her, hands grabbing for you desperately.
she’s throwing her head back against your pillows when your lips latch onto her clit.
“oh, shit,” she moans. “wait, wait.”
but you don’t wait, in fact, your ministrations quicken, tongue lapping at the slick that gushes from ellie’s cunt.
“fuck, angel, i’m gonna—”
the broken moan that leaves ellie’s lithe body has you clenching your thighs. and you think she’s gonna cum, but her palm is firm against your forehead to push you away gently.
her eyes nearly roll to the back of her head when a string of spit webs from your chin to her clit.
“m’not cumming before you do,” she swallows. “this was supposed to be about you.”
“it is,” you assure her. “all i care about right now is making you cum.”
“jesus, you’re actually something else,” ellie sighs shakily, combing a tattooed hand through her damp locks.
you’re making a move to close in on her pussy again, but she’s pushing you onto your back, settling her achey cunt over your thigh as she circles both of your wrists in one hand.
“let me take care of you and you can do whatever you want with me for the rest of the night,” ellie promises, sloppy kiss turning into her licking into your mouth.
her fingers waste no time finding your folds, pads eager against your bud before dipping lower to tease at your entrance.
“how could you think i’d want any other pussy other than yours, angel?” she whispers against your mouth as she stuffs you knuckles deep. “this is all mine, you hear me? all fuckin’ mine.”
you nod, squirming against where she’s still got you confined with a bruising grip around your wrists.
“s’all yours, els,” you whimper.
“just like this pussy’s all yours,” she husks, hips rolling over the swell of your thigh. “would never fucking dream of giving myself to anyone but you.”
and god, ellie knows all the right things to say to have you winding tight.
you’re arching into her, jaw slack and eyes crossing as she hits that spot inside you that has you feeling fucking boneless.
“c’mon, angel,” she encourages you. “just once all over my fingers, then you can do whatever you want to me.”
the squelch has ellie’s thighs shaking as she rolls her hips, knuckles curling hard inside the warm heat of your needy pussy.
“don’t stop, els,” you beg her. “i’m gonna—”
she’s freeing your wrists, climbing from your thigh to settle on her knees at the end of the bed.
“wait, els, i’m gonna—”
and the moan that leaves you can be heard by the entire apartment block, no doubt, because ellie’s sucking your clit past her lips and eating you out like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do.
the shit she’s murmuring against your folds is filthy, has you trying to squeeze your knees together because ellie’s that good.
“ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” you cry out when she adds a third finger.
it’s all it takes because a few moments later, your back’s arching all the way off the bed, thighs vibrating as she continues to toy with you through your orgasm.
“that’s it, angel,” ellie whispers. “ride it out.”
your chest heaves through the final waves, a sheen of sweat making your dewy skin look like it’s glistening under the lowlight of your bedside lamp.
“you did so fuckin’ good for me,” ellie says gently, standing naked between your parted legs as your arm drapes over your eyes in embarrassment.
“stop hiding,” she scolds, climbing to straddle you.
her hands are wandering, smoothing over every available expanse of skin as you cover your face and shy away from her.
she’s shocked when she pries your arm away and finds tears welling in your eyes.
“babe,” she calls incredulously. “why are you—”
“we wouldn’t have been in this situation if i wasn’t so immature and just talked to you about it,” you hiccup.
ellie’s face is falling, pulling you up to wrap you in her arms.
“babe, stop,” she whines softly, rocking you as a shudder rips down your spine. “i should’ve said something and i definitely shouldn’t have acted the way i did earlier. if anything i was immature.”
“you’re such a good girlfriend, ellie,” you whimper. “and i’m...i’m sorry, i—”
“hey, hey,” she stops you firmly, peeling away from you to thumb at your chin. “don’t do that.”
and you feel like such a big fucking baby as ellie repositions the two of you so that she’s leaning against your headboard and she’s pulling you against her sweaty chest.
“i’m sorry, ellie,” you choke again.
“stop apologizing,” ellie croaks, and you realize that the emotions are welling inside of her as well. “none of this was your fault, angel. i should’ve been honest and just told you, but i was scared.”
you’re still hiccuping, ear pressed over her heart.
“you’re my first real girlfriend in a really long time, and it doesn’t help that you’re so grossly out of my league, and—”
“ellie,” you chide.
“i don’t wanna mess things up with you,” she admits softly. “especially after the way we started.”
“i’d never hold that against you,” you swallow.
“and that’s what makes it worse. i know you wouldn’t even if you should,” ellie whispers. “and then today, i saw you with someone else and it made me so fucking mad because the two of you look so good together. it made me feel like i don’t deserve you.”
“els.” and you’re crying harder now, arms winding so tight around her waist, she feels like she’ll burst.
“i’m sorry,” ellie says gently. “you’ve always been so fucking good to me and—”
you’re leaning up, kissing her to shut her up before she starts crying and she’s cradling your face like you’re the most fragile thing.
“i love you so fucking much, ellie,” you tell her between kisses. “let’s just...let’s just put this behind us, okay?”
she nods, pulls from your lips to nestle her face in your neck.
“i love you more, angel,” she murmurs against your skin. “you don’t even know.”
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neng © 2023
2K notes · View notes
seichira · 11 months
Text
is it just me?
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itoshi rin is tormented by the lingering ghosts of your tragic breakup. he is cold and he lives with the burden of missing you. he wonders if you are hurting too, or is it just him?
pairing : itoshi rin x reader
content : hurt and comfort. exes to lovers. messy breakup. accusations of cheating (no actual cheating). insecurities. mentions of alcohol. cursing.
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it’s one in the morning and rin is surrounded by his friends and acquaintances but still, he feels cold. even with the alcohol in his system that he drank to purposely warm him, it’s cold.
it has been this way for nearly a year now. eleven months and a couple weeks, if anyone is counting. a few days more and it would be the anniversary of your breakup.
the nearer it gets to twelve months without you, the colder it gets. right now, even with the perfectly working heater in one of his teammate’s penthouse, rin shivers.
it’s cold.
he never thought it could be this cold.
rin knows why he feels like this. he knows exactly why he wakes up and goes to bed alone. the reason why his life is dull and empty is not a secret to him—he just won’t acknowledge it.
he refuses to admit to himself that the reason why he has been suffering for the past eleven months of his life is because you’re not here.
how could he admit it? how could he ever address that your absence it what causes his pitiful state, when he brought it upon himself.
it was his fault that you’re not here. he wanted this. well, he had thought that he wanted this.
there is no way he could welcome the thought that he misses you when he was the one who drove you away, right? there is no use.
it’s too late now. all he could do is go out with his teammates on nights like this and pretend as if he wasn’t freezing from the inside out.
“damn, this is so boring,” seishiro sits down beside him on the sofa and rin tenses at the presence of the white-haired boy.
he does not know what to do because among everyone else in this crowded room, you are most connected to nagi seishiro. your best friend. and he has long been your best friend before you and rin even got together.
how is rin supposed to act around the person who is still in your life while he himself isn’t? this man seated next to him knows where you are right now and what you have been doing, while rin has absolutely no idea how you are.
“didn’t think i’d see you here, itoshi,” nagi speaks again. rin hums in acknowledgment, “thought it wouldn’t be so bad to come.”
there is this unspoken understanding between them, that both of them are thinking about you. after all, aside from soccer, all they have in common is their connection to you.
nagi debates whether he should tell you that he saw rin tonight or keep it to himself so as to not instigate negative feelings from you.
rin wonders if he should start asking about you. he decides against it and pretended to busy himself with his cellphone to avoid further conversation with your best friend.
he convinces himself that he does not care. he acts like he doesn’t want to know how you are. he tries to make himself believe that as long as he can fake it, it will somehow be true.
jokes on him, really.
meguru approaches nagi next to him and rin is planning to ignore him like he usually does, but the words that comes out of meguru’s mouth made that utterly impossible.
“nagi! i saw y/n by the bookstore earlier this afternoon, didn’t you ask her to come? i invited her but she said you didn’t mention anythin’ about a party!”
the mere mention of your name makes rin’s heart stop. it has been a very long time since he heard someone mention your name casually around him. now that your name has been dropped, everything comes crashing down on him, and he cannot breathe.
“oh, damn, i’m sorry—“ bachira seems to notice his mistake upon not seeing rin next to nagi. they know not to carelessly throw your name around because at first, it affected his performance. now, it is apparent that you affect him in and out of the game.
“excuse me.”
rin is cold. it’s like ice is running through his veins as he stands up and rushes to leave the suffocating penthouse.
rin runs out to the street and for the first time since he lost you, he names the sinking feeling in his stomach that won’t go away.
for the first time since you walked out the door of your shared apartment, rin finally admits it.
he misses you.
he is longing for you like how the moon misses the sun but never meets it enough. it burns and it is freezing all at the same time because when you were here, he felt nothing but the assurance of your love.
he runs, and runs, and runs. it’s dark and it’s cold, but he runs. he runs in hopes that he could change the past. he runs with the burning desire to correct his faults and take back all the hurt he inflicted on you.
maybe then, you’d be here.
maybe then, it wouldn’t be so cold.
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“are you seriously accusing me of that, rin? are you hearing yourself right now?” the hurt was evident in your tone as you watched the love of your life with all of his guards up.
his glares were accusing as if what he saw was an unforgivable betrayal. he had seen you talking to his brother, sae, and rin was quick to act out of pure rage and jealousy.
“you were flirting with my fucking brother!” he spat out, and he knew it was irrational.
he knew he was wrong about and that you would never be able to do that to him, but his years of pent up frustration and hatred towards his brother made it impossible to remember his trust in you.
“and i already told you i wasn’t, rin. i was talking to him. i bumped into him at the coffee shop while i was getting your usual morning drink when he saw me and i sat down for a little chat! that was all, baby. believe me.”
you deserved an award with how well you held up, with how patient you were with him despite his hurtful accusations towards you.
no one else understood him like you did, and you knew to be more patient with him in times like these. you were aware of how his brother affected him and how he just needed someone to stick with him through it.
“well, fuck that! you shouldn’t have been with him in the first place! sae wants everything that i have and now, he’s tryna get you too!”
it almost made you flinch, with his tone rising and his voice getting louder. he is furious, and you try to disregard the sting of his words now that his fury is directed at you.
“i’m sorry, alright? it wasn’t my intention to hurt you, rin. he’s your brother and i thought it would be nice to ask him how he is and—“
rin cut you off like he couldn’t comprehend a word that you were saying. “that’s bullshit and you know it! just fuckin’ tell me the truth! that like everyone and everything else, you’re gonna leave me for him!”
it frustrated you that he blocked all your explanations out. you were growing weary with the accusations thrown at you, but you continued. you continued to reason with him because you knew him. you knew he needed someone to stay. and above all, you tried further because you were in love with him.
you loved rin three years before you finally got together. your two years together made that five. that was five years of your life being deeply in love with someone whom you thought was going to be your husband and the father of your kids.
that amount of time may not be much when viewed through the generations of people who loved each other, but for the both of you, those five years were enough to build a life and create an ideal future with the other.
so, yeah. it never occurred to you to give up in that argument. there was no chance in hell that you would leave him high and dry.
“it’s not like that, rin. i am never going to leave you for anyone, much less for your brother! i need you to listen to me! we talked! that’s it!”
“you’re lying to me. i know it.”
you shake your head in exhaustion. “i talk, and i talk, and i talk—and you don’t hear a thing.” a lone tear falls from your eye without realizing.
his sharp stare does not falter. all he could see was red. the scene of you and sae together replayed over and over again in his mind.
you, the person he loved most, with the person who took everything away from him. it killed him to imagine a future where it is not you and him, but you and sae.
“i’m in love with you. only you. i cannot see myself with anyone else and i thought you knew that, rin. i get that your brother strikes a vein in you but don’t i at least deserve to be heard? we’re better than this.”
“yeah? and i thought you’d be better than acquainting with sae like that. you knew how i felt about him, and you did this? fuck that.”
rin walked out on you that night without another word. it felt like he also walked out on your relationship because he started training more. this meant leaving before you even woke up and going home when you were fast asleep.
during those weeks when rin avoided you like the plague despite living under one roof, you felt completely alone and isolated. you were lonely. he spoke to you in words, and he treated you as if your encounter with sae was enough for him to give it all up.
until one day, he comes home to a living room full of bags and boxes. you were there, waiting for him with a tired smile on your face.
for the first time, rin realized that the black circles under your eyes have grown where they weren’t before. he noticed that you are all cried out and now, you’ve got no tears to shed as you leave him.
“w-what’s all this?”
“i’m leaving. i’m sorry for not getting out of your hair faster. it was really hard to look for another apartment that was within my budget but don’t worry, i figured it out.”
“leaving? leaving me? leaving… this house?” which one is it? or fuck, is it both?
“mhm. i f-figured it’s not healthy for us to live under the same roof after everything. i wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own space just because i’m here, so…”
did you really think he wanted you to leave? he wanted to explain. he wanted to tell you that he only acted that way because he was hurt and he was guilty! you don’t have to leave!
but he’s frozen from where he stood. the sight of all your stuff packed up and ready to go was a little bit too much for him.
you stood from where you were seated among the bags and boxes, and you stop in front of him. again, you smile gracefully, in contrast to the breaking heart that almost killed you.
“and rin? i’m sorry again for what happened with sae. i should’ve known better than to do that to you, and i understand that you don’t want to do anything with me because of that.”
he shook his head but you missed it because you walked past him with some of your bags in your hand. “y/n, no. i—“
you hear it and for a moment, you delude yourself into thinking that he will ask you to stay. but he doesn’t continue.
he stops because how could he ask you to stay after how he treated you? it was his fault for not listening and in the end, it was you who apologized? in what fucking universe do i deserve this angel, huh?
he doesn’t stop you from leaving because in that very moment, the thought of you finally escaping from him and his hurtful treatment towards you didn’t seem so bad.
“so, i guess… i’ll see you around. nagi will be around to grab my remaining stuff, so try not to kill each other, yeah?” you try to play it off cool, mask the fact that inside, everything is falling apart.
rin nods but he stayed with his back facing you. until the end, he did not have the guts to face you. to face what he had done to you and your relationship.
suddenly, everything grew cold. everything lost their color. the empty corners of where your warmth used to be mocked him.
for nearly a year since then, he has lived and suffered with the mistakes he did. he didn’t know what to tell people when they started asking about you. he didn’t know how to ride the train without holding your hand. he didn’t know how to be soaked in the shower without letting his tears flow freely.
he wondered endlessly as he daydreamed of speaking to you again: are you hurting too, or is it just me?
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his endless running brings him to your street where you moved when you left him. his feet takes him farther than he expected because this street is on the opposite part of town from your shared apartment, a telltale sign that you tried to get as far away as possible.
evidently, it is not far enough because on your way home from the convenience store, you run into your ex-boyfriend. rin is first to notice your presence, and instead of freezing up like he did when you left, he walks up to you.
“rin?” you are confused and nervous. after all, the last time you had seen him was almost a year ago. you never tried to see him again.
“it hurts.”
the two words he just confessed are two words that he has never said together in a sentence ever in his life. itoshi rin never admits it when something is hurting him. he never tells anyone when he is in pain.
for him to say that now, it is a cry for you to soothe him in a way that only you could, and you know this because you know him better than the back of your hand.
standing a meter away from you underneath a street lamp, itoshi rin confesses his truth.
“it hurts, y/n. it hurts without you. it feels like i can’t breathe. it is so cold without you. it hurts so badly. i thought i could live with it eventually—but i can’t. it only gets worse.”
rin sees your shoulders shake in your attempt to conceal your sobs but you are failing miserably, and so does he. you don’t say anything and rin figures that’s fair.
you already tried to talk. you already told him everything you needed to hear on the night of the fight that ruined your relationship. it’s his turn to tell you everything you deserve to hear.
but he isn’t as good as you when it comes to words. he thinks about how he accused you of cheating on him. he thinks about how he shut you out and left you feeling lonely. he thinks about every day that he could have chased after you but didn’t. he thinks about all of that and he thinks about how he’s sorry.
and he manages to get that last part out, hoping that you would get it. hoping that the deep-rooted connection between the two of you is enough to let you know what he means.
“i’m sorry.”
you drop your groceries to the ground and you close the meter of distance between the two of you. you welcome him in his arms but he wraps his arms around you tighter than you welcomed him, because he is afraid that if he doesn’t, he will lose you again.
“that is all i needed to hear from you, rin. i never wanted much from you. just you and your love. i just needed to know that you still felt that for me, and when i didn’t… i had no other choice to walk away.”
rin nods against your neck and you feel his tears staining your shoulder. “i’m sorry. forgive me, please. i love you. i love you. and i trust you. more than anyone, baby. i promise.”
“you know i could never hurt you like you thought i did—“ you recalled, but rin cuts you off because he can’t bear another second of you defending yourself when you shouldn’t be.
“i know. i know.”
his embrace around you tightens, and he does not care if anyone could look out from their windows and see the soccer star practically begging for you in the middle of the night. not when he is in your arms again after months of only dreaming about it and wishing for it.
“it hurt too much without you too, rin. i had to remind myself that i can’t run to you for warmth. i took everything in me not to throw away my dignity to beg you to bring me back.”
that answers his question.
in his absence, you were hurting too. your separation killed you just like how it killed him.
“no. no—don’t have to beg for it, baby. i should be on my knees to thank you for even taking me back like this because—shit—i swear that i wouldn’t have lasted another day.”
you run your hands through his hair before briefly pulling away to cup his cheek in your hands, and he fondly leans on your touch.
“for the entire year, i thought it was just me who longed for you, rin.”
you couldn’t be any more wrong.
“i begged the stars and the skies for this very moment. it wasn’t just you.”
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twobluejeans · 9 months
Text
HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!
charles leclerc x famous!reader
summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.
part 4: emo ponytail girl part 3: DUPEE, part 2: wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start
faceclaim: madison beer
ally’s radio 📻: PART 3! thank u guys so much for the love on part 1 & 2. IM SORRY FOR LEAVING YOU ALL IN SUSPENSE BUT IM BACK AND buckle up for some more drama (YASS) and a lot of tswift references 🫶
INSTAGRAM, (july 3)
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c16daily Charles seen entering and leaving a restaurant with mysterious girl last night in monaco via @legrandprixclub
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gaslyleclerc WHO THE FUCK
judeslvr i’m so confused it hasn’t even been a full week??
sharlleclerc i can’t keep defending u man if you keep doing bs like this😭😭
ctrly/n oh wow
s1ut4formula1 copy of y/n
bejeweled.y/n @s1ut4formula1 don’t do y/n like that.
veerstappenmaxemilian someone give me her @ right NEOWW
bbynoriss @veerstappenmaxemilian ON IT
TWITTER,
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INSTAGRAM, (stories)
yourinstagram 37m
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yourinstagram (story) 25m
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y/nflorals MORE OF Y/N AND FATHER NANDO EATING DINNER AT A RESTAURANT LAST NIGHT IN LONDON.
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444mercedes Y/N’S FERNANDO ALONSO’S DAUGHTER???? WHAT SINCE WHEN??
jpgmacvesstap @444mercedes babe ur so late 😭
lance.strollll no wonder why y/n is so pretty 💀
eversincey/n @444mercedes their relationship is v private. y/n took in her mothers maiden name so that the media wouldn’t connect the two. it’s rare when we see them together bc of their busy lives but yeah i was shocked when i found out too
voguey/n IN FATHER NANDO WE TRUST 🛐
alonsof1 judging by his face ik she dropped some really good tea
missamericanay/n id honestly be shitting my pants if i was charles knowing my ex’s father is essentially my coworker 😭
INSTAGRAM, (stories)
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f1paddlockupdates carlos, lando, and daniel have unfollowed charles on instagram.
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ferraribabe i just checked and lance stroll, george russell, and fernando unfollowed him as well 🧍🏽‍♀️
suffering_ferrarifan damn what did homeboy do 😭😭
y/nsredscarf @suffering_ferrarifan cheat obviously
suffering_ferrarifan @y/nsredscarf we literally don’t know that. not believing anything until it comes from y/n or charles themselves 🤷‍♀️
INSTAGRAM,
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ally’s radio 📻: SO YEAH. this was a little filler but might be dropping part 4 later on today to make up for the time i’ve been gone! thanks so much for the love! so fascinating n cool to hear ur ideas and feedback, v much appreciated. what r our thoughts??
taglist🦢🪩: @incoherenciass @dakotali @405rry @topaz125 @sassyheroneckgiant @hevburn @itsmytimetoodream @ivegotparticulartaste @crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010 @scenesofobx @christinabae @magical-spit @dessxoxsworld @myareadsbooks @honethatty12 @hopefulinlove @diasnohibng @gentlemonsterjennie1 @hummusxx @eugene-emt-roe @taestrwbrry @pejarma @cxcewg @chimchimjiminie16 @glow-ish
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charliemwrites · 2 months
Text
Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).
So consider this part 4.5? idk it's late.
Usual CW for this series with dubcon, mean Soap, post-trauma coping.
It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.
You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.
It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.
Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.
You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—
It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.
Laswell suggested a cat.
You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.
But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.
You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.
The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…
She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.
If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.
So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.
Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.
Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.
The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?
You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.
Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.
“Nice catch, bonnie.”
You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.
“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”
You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.
You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.
“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.
You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.
You whisper, “Soap.”
He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”
His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.
“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.
He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.
Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.
Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.
The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.
“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”
An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.
“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”
He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.
“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”
You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.
“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.
You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.
“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”
A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.
“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”
His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.
“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”
He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.
“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”
And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.
“John!”
He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.
You can get through this without pain, just think.
“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”
He grumbles. “So what?”
You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”
He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”
“You like it.”
And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.
When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.
“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”
Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.
“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”
“Squeamish?”
You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.
“A bit,” you admit.
“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”
Is that what he thinks? Christ.
You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.
“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.
“Fix it, then,” he snarls.
You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.
“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”
A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.
This… this you could work with.
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baddiewiththebook · 5 months
Text
STUFFING AND SAUCE [18+]
-> It's Thanksgiving, and the gang is all together under one roof: the Henderson house. While Mrs. Henderson and Wayne battle the turkey in the kitchen, Eddie fights his own urges with the older Henderson sibling. You're home for the holidays, and Eddie's hungry. . . but, not for turkey.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> hookup to lovers, angst, smut
-> warning - explicit content [18+]
a/n -> This is reuploaded and heavily edited from last year.
-> <-
"You keep looking in that mirror and I'll break it," Dustin warns.
Robin's hair stands on end. "You can't be serious? That bad luck is transferable, you know?"
Dustin rolls his eyes at her superstition because honestly they've all come to an agreement to help set the table for Thanksgiving dinner party that his mother has offered to host this year. And, with Eddie's lack of partaking because he's too busy blotting down his hair in the mirror, Dustin doesn't understand why Eddie's come to his house in the first place.
The older boy fidgets with the end of his shirt, and not long after Robin comes to his ear to tell him that you'll love how he looks tonight. That's right, you're coming. He's totally forgotten that Dustin's sister is in town for Thanksgiving. Eddie's hair dangles over his cheeks, so that hopefully no one sees him blush.
"When does your sister get here?" Max throws herself onto the couch next to Steve, whom scoots a seat over from her. Lately, he realizes, she's been a bit too clingy to him.
"She's late," Dustin checks the clock that hangs high above on the wall ticking the time away. "She should have been here an hour ago- Eddie!"
Eddie abandons his task once again to dash over to the front window facing the street. Frost makes the drying grass and the limp trees appear shiny like glass. Foggy car headlights grow larger as they near. Seeing your Honda pull up the short drive brings back memories from the summertime.
Last summer was a record high in heat, which left you with barely any clothes to wear that didn’t leave your skin sticky and hot. Especially when Eddie was bent over the hood of your car and knuckles deep in your engine. Greased up hands and all, he wiped the sweat from his brow to tell you that your car was fixed. When you offered him cash as payment, he declined to the manor of being friendly not as the professional Eddie Munson - mechanic. You chewed on your bottom lip while batting your lashes in his direction.
Eddie’s unsure how you can make him melt, while simply being you. But, eventually, you worked out a payment that both of you were happy with. And, you continued that payment damn near every week. In his office. In his garage. In his van. In his kitchen. In his shower. In his bed.
No space in his shop or in his apartment are left sacred to either of you. And, when the summer was done, you were off to college. No calls or texts from either of you.
“She’s here!” Max spins in the front hallway. You are her idol. She swears you are the coolest person she’s ever met (aside from El).
Dustin shoves Eddie out of the way to observe for himself that in fact his sister has come home for the holidays. Not long after, their shared mom runs out of the house with her apron around her neck like a cape in her sprint.
“Hi, baby!” Your mom peppers your face with her kisses.
You whine. “Mom!”
“Okay, okay!” She pinches your cheeks until they’re glowing, but she does let you go.
Following her is your little brother, Dustin, who grabs you around the waist and he pulls you in tight. He’s gotten much taller since the last time you’ve seen him, but that can’t be right. You’ve only been gone for a few months!
“Hi, Dusty!” You ruffle his hair.
He grins. “What did you bring me?”
“I barely have enough money for books!” You snort.
Dustin drops his grip and then he fans you away. The little sucker grumbles, and avoids helping you with your suitcase despite your mom’s request. But, Steve and Robin dogpile you with warm greetings and Steve offers to help with your bag.
“I need all the dirt on college,” Robin whispers. “Are there really stains on all the sheets?”
What she means to ask is much raunchier. But, your mother is still picking at your clothes because you haven’t ironed this shirt. She’s got this look upon her face like you’ve been away at sea for years and years, and not like you’ve spent two months away at college.
Steve lugs your suitcase inside with you in tow. The rest of your brother’s little friends have also crowded around to get a piece of you. You’re like a celebrity in your own home. Even Wayne’s got his arm around you, whom you didn’t expect to see (but, you’re not complaining - you love Wayne).
Wayne’s got himself stuck in the kitchen with your mom to help her with the turkey. You’re the top subject right now, but soon he dashes off to make sure the bird isn’t drying out in the oven. Conversation begins to swirl like normal, and you’re on the lookout for the one person you might have missed a little more than you should.
You sit on the living room couch between Nancy and Steve with Robin at your feet, and the kids are running about the home hiding a can of whipped cream from your mom and Wayne (who are the only adults capable of reprimanding them of course).
“Do you have any plans while you’re in town?” Nancy asks.
You hope she doesn’t see your neck crane over her curly head. “None, but I’m here for the weekend and Monday since I don’t have classes.”
“What’s your schedule like?”
Nancy overloads everything she can while you’re around. No offense to the other people in your friend group, but they didn’t invite intellectual conversations like you and she did. She’s got too many questions for you, while you’re overthinking that the mid-length skirt you wore is too much.
“Have either of you seen Eddie?” Wayne poses the eye opening question that has the whole gang bobbing their head back and forth like meerkats.
“I saw his van outside, right? I’ll check there,” you stand away from your spot on the sofa.
Robin wants to make a sly comment about your willingness to brave the cold for this shaggy man, who seems to have taken a full shower, shave and added cologne to his washed outfit for the evening. She bites her tongue.
“Bathroom?” Nancy suggests that she go upstairs, and Robin will check this floor.
Steve hauls himself from the couch. “I’ll check outside.”
Steve secretly wishes that Eddie be there smoking a joint that he could bum off of. Holidays aren’t Steve’s favorite because his family isn’t around either. He’s here because he can’t say ‘no’ to Mrs. Henderson.
To no knowledge of Eddie, however, is anyone looking out for him. He’s snuck out to his van while everyone else stays distracted by your arrival. Watching your chest bounce while you laugh, or your skirt flutter while you twirl - you’re a God damn tease and you know what you’re doing.
Knock, knock.
You wrap your knuckles against the glass of his van’s driver’s side window. This must be Eddie’s lucky day, and you’re thinking the same by the way you twist in front of him.
“What’s up?” Eddie nods.
You pout. “Well, you didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me and you’re already bailing?”
“I’m not bailing,” he assures. “Besides, do you think that the way we greet each other is appropriate to do in public?”
A part of you is quite offended that he hasn’t addressed the elephant in the room. Not only did he neglect to call you in the past few months, nor did he greet you at the door like the rest of your friends had done earlier. But, the other part of you is winning over this tug of war. You haven’t had sex in months, and shining your own shield only goes so far.
During the summer, you got what you wanted. You and Eddie screwed like rabbits. When you left, a nagging itch was left that couldn’t be scratched. Admittedly, you got cozy in his apartment. Your sleepovers became ‘Good Morning’ with a side of eggs and toast. Soon began you washing the dishes after, and Eddie asking about what you’re studying for school.
After a while, his apartment became a second home and you no longer had to ask where the bathroom was. You pretended that this little game was to keep Dustin’s watchful eye out of sight, but sipping your morning brew without asking Eddie to add anymore cream or sugar became a bit more than you bargained for.
You’re leaning forward now to press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. But, before you have a chance to pull away, Eddie slots his lips to yours like he’s made his way home.
“You want to take advantage that there’s no one parked behind me? Like old times?” Eddie pinches your chin with his index finger and his thumb.
It just so happens that the Beyers family is running a tad behind schedule. Will couldn’t find his Christmas sweater, and Johnathan had to second his shower because according to his mom, he still stunk like a skunk had run through their house. But, as they finally do pull up to the lively home with Christmas lights twinkling on the roof, Joyce Byers spots the eldest Henderson twisted in close conversation with the Munson boy.
Joyce parks their car halfway onto the sidewalk because Johnathan is jolting out of the car murmuring something about the food smelling so good. This leaves Will to juggle the grocery bags full of potatoes and Mac and Cheese into the house. But, Joyce stops to interrupt the conversation you’re having.
“Hi, Miss. Byers,” you pull away from the conversation to greet her warmly.
“Joyce, honey! Joyce!” She corrects. “I didn’t mean to- oh, I’m sorry. Hello, Eddie!”
Eddie waves his hand in her direction. That’s not to be rude, but he would rather not have Joyce see him in a pair of tight denim with his dick as hard as it is right now.
“We’re just going out for a last minute grocery run,” your lie leaves a sour note on your tongue.
Joyce knows very well that the last grocery store to stay open on Thanksgiving has closed about thirty minutes ago. But, she doesn’t tell them that she knows this. She quite fondly looks back to her own memories of when she snuck out of her family ‘s Christmas party with her boyfriend at the time.
“Be safe,” Joyce winks, then turns on her heel to go inside.
You’re quick to hop into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. An old bitter cigarettes scent stains the interior of the vehicle like a thick layer of butter on toast. You buckle up, then kick your feet out in what little room he has under the dash. Eddie’s abused the passenger side of his van for fast food wrappers and travel mugs he hasn’t taken inside for however long.
Aside from a tire whining, Eddie cuts the headlights to sneak out of the drive without anyone noticing from inside.
Eddie places one of his hands across your thigh, “Grocery shopping?”
"What was I supposed to say?" You shake your head
You’re biting at the edge of something wonderful here. Looking on to your left, Eddie’s got his lip tugged between his teeth. His eye on the road. His mind in the gutter. The hand he’s got squeezing against the fat of your inner thigh dances dangerously across your skin. Your spine arches straight back. Eyes shut blissfully as you let a whine escape you.
Then, he dares flick your awaiting clit while driving solo with one hand on the wheel and an eye on the road. Not to be crude, but he’s been here before with you. Tight on time. Sneaking about like high schoolers still. You’re on his mind most of the time these days because he wants to know if what you did with him all summer is what you would do in college with other people. He’s subjected himself to exhausting torturous hours at work just so he doesn’t have to think about you in your back getting railed by a random dude.
Somehow he’s got you here now, and your putty under his fingers. Your eyelashes flutter. Brows furrow. Your chest rises and falls at the lightest touches from him.
Clenching your legs against his large grip he's got on you, Eddie pulls off to the side of the road. He’s waited far too long to revisit this little charade. Pulling in behind a few trees, he doesn’t have to ask because you’re already climbing into the back.
You land on a set of blankets he hasn’t taken out since you left.
Eddie crawls into the back after you. Kisses like he never left. Nostalgia makes your heart skip inside of your chest. He keeps you there under his touch, and squeezing at your sides as you sink deeper into his embrace.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Eddie breathes onto your neck, before attaching himself there and nibbling into your flesh.
Your whines acknowledge that he’s got just the right spot - like he could have forgotten. The embrace is so familiar that your chest burns for him.
“More,” you beg into his hair, while gripping your hands into fists of the fabric on his back.
If there was more time, Eddie would have stayed there all night just to hear your heart beat against his eardrum. Yet, he’s undoing his belt, the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down to match you flipping up that sinful little skirt you wore just to tease him. Wetting his fingers, he then hooks his pinky in your underwear to move them to the side. Rubbing your clit, Eddie hears your moans bounce from each side of the van. You’re on full display. Deliciously beautiful and all for him.
You’re both aware of this, so there’s no need to say anything.
“Eddie,” except you do. “Please. I need you!”
“I’ll never stop needing you,” he finds your lips again, as he pushes himself deep inside of you.
Groaning together, your core aches a familiar feeling. Tightening your grip against him like you’re scared he’ll run away. He’s got his eye not on your eye, but on your soul. Reaching far beneath the depths that anyone could ever fall into, and at its core is you. Your being is the only part he’ll ever need - the only thing he longs for. And so, as he’s fucking you at a punishing rate, he holds on tight for he’s afraid to let go.
You break the eye contact when you toss your head back. Stars form in your vision, as you topple over the edge of bliss. Following soon, you hear Eddie groan one last time and he’s spilling inside of you.
“Shit,” he rolls onto the blankets trying to catch his breath.
You’re doing the same, and with one long exhale, you swing yourself over so that you’re laying across his body. Eddie drowsily opens his eye to see the most beautiful creature he’s laid his eye on. Lipstick smeared. Mascara smudged. Your heart sounds as though it’s going to burst from your chest.
“Hi,” you say breathlessly.
Eddie chuckles. “Hey, beautiful.”
Beautiful. That’s an unspoken word between you two. Usually, after sex, the two of you either dress in silence or roll over and go to sleep. You miss the feeling of being wanted, and you’ve got your fingers crossed that he’s not just playing his cards.
Eddie’s hand finds the small of your back to bring you closer.
“What are you thinking about?” He touches your forehead with his index finger.
You nibble at the inside of your cheek, before bravely making the leap to ask. “Did you mean it?”
“What?”
“That you’ll never stop needing me,” you swallow thickly.
Eddie’s fingers make patterns along your bare back. Eyes locked onto yours, he studies your face through the shadows of the arriving evening. All this time you’ve been away, you’ve been on his mind. If he knew what dorm you live in, he’d be there in a heart beat to keep you warm during these cooler months.
“I’ll never,” he folds your fingers in with his just so he can bring your hand to his mouth, and so he can kiss every knuckle on your hand, “stop needing you.”
“Oh, Eddie,” you lean in for a kiss.
Someone bashes a fist against the back door to the van, and you know your screwed. Red and blue lights flicker and flash outside the window.
"Shit!" You scramble to pat down your hair, and your skirt.
Eddie tucks himself into his pants, while muttering curses to himself.
“Police!” Jim Hopper’s voice is easily recognizable. “Come on, Munson. Don’t make me come in there.”
With a few run-ins with the law, and making a reputation as the “freak” of Hawkins High School, Eddie’s van became a staple around town. Even the police knew just about where ever he is at any time.
Tumbling over each other, you’re sure the guilt is written all over your faces. Nearly blinded by a flashlight to the face, you shield your eye away from Jim Hopper, who squints at you two. Clearly caught in the act of a wild youthful fantasy, Jim clicks off his flashlight and speaks to you both;
“I was on my way to your mom’s house,” he makes a point to stare you down, before continuing, “when I was radioed that there’s a suspicious van lingering off the side of the road. Care to explain?”
Not like there is much explaining to do. The story is pretty black and white, but that doesn’t discourage Eddie to come up with an aching bumble of lies.
“We were just on our way to the grocery store when we ran out of gas,” he began with your earlier plot. “We ran out of cranberry sauce.”
“Right,” Jim grunts. “I better give you a ride back.”
Walking back into the house to explain why you and Eddie disappeared has been mute to your ears. All of the funny faces from the younger kids, or the suspected glances from the older friends. God, you’d never hear the end of this from Robin. She’s been on your behind about fixing you up with Eddie for a while.
“You okay?” Eddie nudges you.
Jim says with his back turned, “Come on, kids. No use standing around a dead car. I’ll see what I can do about getting you back here with a gas can in the morning.”
“I’m fine,” you're embarrassed, but you're warm knowing where you stand with Eddie.
You’re crammed in the back of Jim’s Chevrolet with Eddie. Also stuffed between you two, is a sizable Tupperware full of mashed potatoes. El twists around in the front seat to let you know that she made them this year.
Bumps in the road weigh heavy against the beating inside your chest. You’re not speaking a language that Eddie totally understands, but he knows where your head is at. He touches your pinky with his sending a few jolts straight to your heart and your stomach flips. You continue to manage the Tupperware from tipping all over the seats.
The Sheriff spins the wheel to turn down your street. That empty spot Eddie left has Jim’s name written all over it.
Somehow the home has become busier than when you left earlier. Sounds of laughter bubble through the chill of the evening. The blinds are drawn, so you can see the Christmas tree in the living room lined with a calamity of decorations that have been collected over the years. Tinsel shines against the living room lamps draped across doorways, and the window frame. Your mom insists on putting the decorations up the day after Halloween.
You can almost hear Wayne’s boyish laughter that he’s never quite grown out of, while he tortures the young kids. He’s cornered Lucas and Max with a fake bushel of mistletoe in his hand. Max squirms when Lucas kisses her on the cheek, but later blushes while no one is looking.
The car tilts as the group climbs out and down onto the driveway. You’ll never understand the love for a lifted truck like this.
Despite wanting to be useful, El takes the mashed potatoes from you.
“I’ll be taking that!” She announces proudly.
With El and Jim both taking the lead, Eddie sneaks in to tug at your hand.
The front door swings open.
“Jim Hopper,” Wayne announces. “And- erm, Eddie?”
You poke your head around Jim’s back, and Wayne’s mouth draws agape.
“Their grocery store run ended on a flat tire, so I brought them back here,” Jim says.
“Thank you for rescuing them,” he replies. “Well, come in. Dinner is just about ready.”
Jim, El and yourself enter the home without too much inquiry from Wayne. But, you hear a thunk and Eddie’s protest, so you can imagine Wayne just knocked some sense into the back of Eddie’s head.
“You must be cold, darling,” Wayne snaps his finger. “I’ll bring you some hot chocolate. Go on and sit by the fire in the living room. Your friends have been waiting for you.”
Pinching Eddie on the ear, Wayne drags him away to the kitchen where you just know he’s getting scolded.
You bite the bullet, and find your friends in the living room surrounding the fireplace. Steve’s fought for and gotten the prime spot, so that his back is to the flame and he’s heating up in the knitted sweater that Nancy made for him.
Johnathan is still unhappy about the exchange by the way, even if she knitted him a pair of socks later. You can’t imagine a world where Johnathan and Steve might get along anyway. Nancy has false hopes.
“There you are!” Nancy worries like a mom who’s lost sight of her kids for more than five minutes. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“Really?” You plop down next to Robin on the couch, who’s got this grin that you beg won’t start talking.
“Won’t you enlighten us?” Robin bats her lashes.
Steve clears his throat. “Don’t think she’ll have too.”
“Warm up with this,” Eddie’s come from the kitchen with hot chocolate in hand. He hands it to you, and kisses the top of your head.
“Shut up!” Robin yells. “Really?”
“Really what?” Dustin pokes his head from around the corner before Eddie can snake his hands away from you. “Oh, damn.”
-> <-
tags: @ali-r3n
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rogueddie · 4 months
Text
Steve Harrington is six years old when he first speaks to Eddie Munson.
Steve vaguely recognized him from school, sure that he was in the year above Steve, but he thought that Eddie hadn't looked as lonely in school as he had in the public library that day.
So, determined to make a friend, he decided to go over and talk to him.
He only hesitated because Eddie looked immersed in his book- that is, until some other kids went over and bothered him. They don't do much, only seem to jeer and knock his book down as they passed by, but Eddie looked upset.
Steve got up as soon as the boys left through the doors. Eddie was clearly just trying to enjoy his book- and a big book too, Steve had thought that it must be interesting for him to be so far into it.
"Hi," Steve greets. He gave a little wave and his cutest smile- even his mom thought it was cute and she was so busy in those days that she never noticed those smaller things. "What are you- you, um, reading?"
He stared at Steve blankly for a moment, seeming confused. "Lord of the rings. Why?"
"Thought it must be… interesting. It looks so long and you've, just… you've read so much!"
"Oh. Yeah, it's pretty fun. You read a lot of fantasy?"
Steve shifted, glancing away for a moment. Uncomfortable. "I don't really… read a lot. The words get a little, uh, confusing."
"The Hobbit is a little shorter? And it's part of the same world as Lord of The Rings. There's three of these ones."
"What are they about?"
Eddie lit up. He kept the explination short, not wanting to ruin the book. He paused a lot, tongue sticking out as he tried hard to think, constantly noting that 'it will make more sense when you read it' or 'but then a thing happens, but I can't tell you because it will spoil it'.
"And the- the trees talking is, like, normal in this world?"
"Yeah! It's all great!"
Steve didn't quite understand, but he loved how Eddie made it sound.
"You still think you'll read it?"
"Maybe when I'm a- a bit older. I don't think I'll really, uh, get it? It sounds real neat though."
"Do you think it might help if I read it out to you?" Eddie's smile dropped a little when Steve hesitated. He leant close, lowering his voice. "I had to have my uncle read it out the first time."
"Really?"
"Yeah. A lot of words I don't know and because he was reading them out, I could just ask him if I didn't get it. Plus, I kinda still like being read to. It's like having a personal narrator."
"Oh. And... that's ok?
"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be? Uncle Wayne says it is so it must be."
"Is your uncle really smart?"
"Super smart. He knows a lot."
"Ok."
"Ok?" Eddie perked up. "You want me to read to you? Because I've been practicing doing voices and it is really fun."
Eddie flipped the book back to the start.
"I'll only read a little. Don't wanna give anything away."
Steve was fascinated. Despite how much some of the voices wavered, Steve adored them. He had to bite the inside of his cheeks at times to keep from making noise, or commenting. He hadn't wanted to interrupt Eddies flow.
It took him a while to realize that he'd stopped checking the time and, by the time he did, it was almost too late.
"Oh, damn," Steve jumped up, wincing at how it made Eddie flinch. "Sorry! I have to go, my dad- I'm sorry."
"No worries," Eddie shrugged. "Will you be here next week?"
"Yeah, should be."
"I'll wait for you here, same time."
"Gocha!"
Steve scurried out, running out the door. He ignored the yelling for him to slow down, panting by the time he jumped into the back of his dads car.
"Sorry I'm late."
His dad hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in the rear view mirror. "Good day? Make any new friends?"
"Yeah! I met Eddie and he's really nice and cool. He read me some of this big book and he wants to meet me again, next week!"
Steve hadn't noticed the way his dad winced when he went on to describe Eddie. He was too busy thinking about the next week and how excited he was to spend another afternoon with his new friend.
But, the next week, his dad dropped him off with a babysitting. He made sure to tell her that Steve was to be kept away from the public library.
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