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vanteguccir · 2 months

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TikTok trends | Matt Sturniolo | pt. 2

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: 4 times that Y/N and Matt made a couple's trend on tiktok.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anons.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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It was the beginning of the pandemic, everyone was in lockdown, businesses were closed, and meetings in person were only held between people who were sure they weren't with the virus.

TikTok was the only distraction for the young ones as their schools were closed, and online classes were difficult to maintain their concentrations.

Y/N had created her account on the app a few months behind and spent hours watching the videos that her For You brought with Matt, her best friend and neighbor.

Since their houses were right next to each other and Mary Lou and Y/N's mother were keeping everything extremely clean and taking every precaution possible, Y/N spent almost all of her days with Matt, whether at his house or hers.

But what no one knew was that Y/N had a crush - huge one - on Matt, and who could judge her for that? Matt was affectionate, protective, and caring. His heart was huge, and his kindness was even greater. His different personality and unique characteristics embraced the girl's heart.

That's why, when she saw the trend of kissing your best friend to the sound of Electric Love, she decided to make her first move with him. What so bad could happen?

Matt and Y/N had been sitting on Matt's bed for a few hours now, talking and spending time together, when Y/N finally got up the courage.

She took advantage of the fact that Matt was texting Nate and reached over, grabbing her own phone that was on the bedside table. She unlocked it and opened TikTok, quickly turning down the volume so the boy couldn't hear the audio. She selected the sound for the video and opened the camera, clicking on the recording tab and setting it to start.

Her hands rested her cell against the lamp so that the front camera took her and Matt figures before adjusting herself on the mattress, turning her body slightly and facing the brunette.

Y/N took a deep breath, playing with her fingers as she tried to take the initiative. She closed her eyes momentarily before finally leaning over, catching Matt's attention with her movements, who lifted his blue eyes from Nate's chat and looked at the girl.

Her hands snaked up his arms until they reached his face, holding his jaw gently and lifting her own body slightly, moving closer to him. She brought her lips closer to Matt's, who was watching her movements with a confused - but hopeful - look.

Y/N stopped her face close to his, asking him with her gaze if she could move forward. Matt quickly understood, dropping his phone on the mattress and putting his hands on the girl's head, pulling her closer and pressing their lips together.

Y/N opened her eyes wide for a few seconds - not expecting that - before closing them and surrendering to the gesture, feeling like fireworks were going off around the two of them. Her heart was racing, and her cheeks felt hot. A happy sigh escaped her nose as her hands went up to Matt's soft hair, tugging lightly.

The image of Matt pulling her into his lap by her waist was the last thing captured on camera, before the TikTok ended.

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Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line to stop her laughter from escaping as she rested her phone on the sink in her shared bathroom with Matt.

The TikTok screen was already open, ready to start recording. The girl took a deep breath before clicking the red button, moving away from the device.

"Baby!" She shouted, tilting her chin up so her voice echoed better, her eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Matt's response.

Low footsteps were heard from the bedroom, followed by the bathroom door opening a few inches, Matt's head appearing between the door and the frame.

"Hi baby. Do you need toilet paper?" He asked quickly, his eyes traveling around the bathroom, checking if everything was alright before looking at his girlfriend again. She had a false expression of desperation, which made him automatically raise his eyebrows in concern.

"No, it's an emergency, actually." Y/N spoke slowly, swallowing her laugh, playing with the hem of Matt's hoodie that covered her body, showing embarrassment.

The boy frowned, opening the door wider and entering the bathroom before closing it behind him.

"What happened, baby? Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice, approaching his girlfriend and hugging her, receiving a negative wave in response. "Is the toilet clogged?"

"Matt!" A surprised laugh escaped Y/N's lips as she rolled her eyes against his chest before taking a step away, bis hands still holding her waist slightly. "No, my tampon is stuck inside me. The string broke." She explained, her tongue escaping her lips, wetting them nervously.

The brunette's eyes widened, watching her for a few seconds as if he expected her to say it was just a prank - which it really was.

"Oh no. Does it hurt? Oh my God, what can I do?" Matt paused, seeming to think of a solution before exhaling. "Okay, pull down your pants and panties and sit on the bathtub edge with your legs open, baby. I know your pussy too well, I can find it quickly." He quickly instructed, leaning forward slightly and bringing his hands to the waistband of the sweatpants that hugged Y/N's waist, ready to pull them down.

"Baby!" The girl shouted, letting out a loud laugh. Matt stopped his movements, looking at her.

"What? I'll take it off for you."

"I love you, Matt." Y/N said, still laughing.

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Y/N placed her phone on the hood of Matt's car so that the front camera covered her entire body.

The screen showed the TikTok camera opened with the audio already selected. Y/N briefly glanced at her boyfriend, who was out of frame and observing her with a small smile before clicking the red button, starting the recording.

"You better lock your phone"

She took a few steps back, raising her arms so that they were straight horizontally, spinning her body slowly.

"And look at me when you're alone"

Matt's figure appeared on the right side of the camera. He ran towards Y/N, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her slightly off the ground, spinning her in the air.

The image of Y/N throwing her head back with her mouth open and her eyes closed, as loud laughter escaped her lips, was the last thing captured on camera.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N docked her phone in the phone holder attached to the dashboard of Matt's car, smiling nervously at the camera that was already recording her, before quickly straightening up in her seat when she heard the passenger door open.

The girl had taken Matt's car keys to go shopping at the mall, and as agreed with her boyfriend before, she was now waiting for him in front of their house so they could have lunch together.

Matt got into the passenger seat, mentally thanking Chris for sitting there the day before, so the seat was already in the right position for his body size.

He closed the door and turned to his girlfriend, smiling big while running his eyes over her face. He leaned slightly towards her and sealed their lips gently, his right hand caressing the covered skin of her thigh gently, exhaling her perfume.

"Hi baby, I missed you." He whispered against his girl's pink lips, smiling slightly when he heard her let out a shy laughter.

"I missed you too, my love." She responded in the same tone, sealing their lips one last time before pulling away.

"How was shopping? Did you buy everything you needed? That cropped you were dying to get?" The brunette asked interestedly, turning to the right side and pulling the seat belt, crossing it over his body and closing it.

"It was great! I bought everything I wanted and, you won't believe it, I stopped by the gas station to change the oil!" Y/N told it like it was something extraordinary, her tone loud and excited as she smiled big.

"Change the oil? But, baby, I changed it recently, it would only need to be changed again in a month now." Matt frowned, looking at her with a confused look.

"Oh, I thought we needed to change it. Can you believe they charged me $500? I thought about calling you right away, but I ended up accepting it so I could leave faster."

Matt turned around abruptly upon hearing the value his girlfriend said, widening his eyes comically as his mouth opened into a perfect O.

"$500 dollars? They charged you $500 dollars for oil?" The boy's voice was thin and broken, his heart skipping a beat.

"Yeah. The total was $1,000 because they offered me premium air, I thought it was interesting. Now our car is premium." The girl continued excitedly, making jazz hands to the car dashboard.

"$1,000 dollars? Premium air?" Matt asked aloud, bringing his right hand to his forehead as he took a deep breath, feeling suddenly dizzy. "Babe-"

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, stopping her laugh from escaping.

"What? I thought it was a little absurd when the guy told me, but it sounded amazing." She shrugged, watching him closely.

"Premium air... Can you hear yourself? Oh my God, I'm going to have a heart attack." Matt kept his right hand on his forehead, bringing his left to his chest, above his heart, feeling how fast it was.

A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat. She couldn't hold back any longer. Her mouth dropped open as she laughed loudly.

"You are crazy, I swear. Do you have a receipt?"

Y/N shook her head while still laughing, briefly pointing to the phone that was recording them. Matt threw his body against the seat, sighing deeply and closing his eyes. She still would kill him someday.

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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nouvxllev · 3 months

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closed-door policy || p2

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were more than friends but less than lovers. Where does that put the both of you in the spectrum? You were friends-with-benefits, sure, you guys are anyway, but a part of you wanted something real.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: light smut

a/n: so sorry for very late update! i got caught up in work and school. its kicking my ass. but anyway, here it is.

part 3 || masterlist.

Love.

Oh, how Wednesday loved to hate it.

A meaning that only rang true to those who were foolish enough to commit to another's heart. To those who were foolish enough to cling to the elusive hope of happy endings, to those who were foolish enough to believe in the existence of soulmates, and to those who depend their happiness on someone's mercurial heart.

It was odd. How she hated love. She grew from a family destined to fall in love with their other half or they'd simply perish from a broken heart and their own woe, the people who showed their love to another in such unique ways others can't even fathom. However, she does have the characteristics.

Loyal? She'd forever be clung to a typewriter than a phone in the 21st century. Committed? She'd stop her heart if she ever needed to elaborate on it for her novel. Devoted? She spares at least an hour or two every day for her literature. Loving? Maybe not so. She'd rather drink a gallon of caramel drizzled with honey and sweet chocolate out of someone's eyesockets before having a committed relationship with someone.

Wednesday closed off everyone from her life, built walls hard to tear down even if she met another version of herself, and kept everything locked in a safe where no one knew the code. Her heart will forever be closed, and her soul will forever be overgrown with thorns with curses and cries from those desperate enough to fall for her.

But then you came along.

Ever since then, she hated love even more.

But most importantly, she hated you.

The way you entered her life in more ways than one, the way you smiled everytime you looked at her knowing you'd just receive a glare back, the way you were considered as that one girl who always got into trouble because you just couldn't accept losing, the way you run your hands through your hair, the way it just falls back gracefully down to your shoulders, the way your nose scrunches up when you find something funny, the way your eyes shimmer in the sun, the way your face looks in the moonlight, the way you laugh, the way everytime Wednesday looks at you she's reminded that she has a beating fucking heart that she knew she closed off.

Wednesday hated all of it.

She often pitied those who willingly fell in love with her more than those who pleaded for mercy.

She often pitied those who fell in love in general.

So, why did she feel pity for herself when she met you?

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"We're friends."

No, you couldn't say that. You'd be lying to yourself.

Friends don't look into their friend's eyes as if they created a whole galaxy for them in their hands. Friends don't kiss each other behind closed doors, friends don't have this weird feeling to outright propose to them, and friends definitely don't dream of absolutely ravaging the fuck out of another.

But lovers don't wake up the morning after pretending that nothing happened either.

So, what were you to Wednesday?

You were more than friends but less than lovers. Where does that put the both of you in the spectrum? You were friends-with-benefits, sure, you guys are anyway, but a part of you wanted something real.

A tired sigh escaped your lips. The cold breeze and the familiar setting of being awake at 5:00 finally hits you. You didn't even notice you were sitting up, the creak of the bed echoing in the silent room alongside your breath. The headboard pressed against your back and that stupid pain in your chest that never seemed to go away no matter how much you yelled at your body to just stop. Or maybe that wasn't much of a treatment.

As you looked towards your left, you found yourself sighing yet again, but out of relief. Wednesday.

A calming sight, you'd think. You always found it endearing when you first saw Wednesday sleep with her arms crossed around her chest as if she's inside a coffin. Okay, maybe at first, you were creeped out and you were debating if you should wake her up. But now, it felt like even if you took a hundred photos of her, it still wouldn't be enough to capture her at peace.

After a few minutes, you found yourself in the bathroom. The sound of water running filled the closed room as you splashed your face, trying to wake yourself up.

Leaning against the sink, the cold material seeping against your skin, you stared at your reflection. Your hands going up to cup your face, your fingers tracing the marks and the scars you carried.

You were always known for being that one girl who got into trouble, it didn't matter whether it may be from your actions or the actions that were caused by others, who thought it'd be funny to put the blame on you and the explanation would be your reputation. But it didn't matter, you think, atleast you were known for something.

You loved Wednesday. But you truly couldn't.

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The room felt smaller. Smaller than it ever did.

"I just can't fucking deal with your bullshit anymore." They spat out, you yourself standing across from them with eyes that cried for nights. "It's like you expect me to bear it with you, why can't you just stop putting me in your own damn mistakes!?"

Your eyes mirrored hurt, but your body reflected with anger, replacing it as a shield for the shouts that were shooting to kill. "I'm—I'm not expecting you to bear anything," you stuttered, "I just need you to understand, to be there for me I—"

They let out a bitter laugh, "Understand what, y/n? Who would want to be burdened by your constant need to be loved?" They got closer to you, backing you into a wall, "You're unlovable, y/n. I can't keep fucking pretending that I can fix you or some shit. Why can't you get the simplest things through your head?"

"I thought we loved eachother."

"We didn't!" They shouted, "we never loved eachother, I never loved you, no one fucking did."

"But I loved you."

They stepped back to you, going over to their own place to pack up. "But I didn't alright? I never did, and I never will."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, just please don't leave me—" You reached out, desperation in your touch before they pushed you away.

"I can't give you what you deserve, y/n. You don't even deserve half of it."

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Each time your gaze hovered over a mirror, the memory played over and over again, to the point you couldn't even tell what was real in that scene or not. You warped it into something you fear, into something you'd use as an excuse if you ever found yourself getting attached to another.

It came back to haunt you, it always did, but now, it didn't fear you as much as it did.

Maybe you were numb to it at this point, you'd think, but a part of you wanted to think that it was because of Wednesday. That she was the one, the one that would never be a relapse of the memory. The one that would erase it.

You let out a sigh—probably the 100th one all week—with the immense tiredness you were having overthinking. But it was fine, you'd say to yourself, you loved her.

"Y/n."

"Y/n!"

You didn't realize you were daydreaming a daydream until someone shouted your name across the sea of people, your body slumped over a wall holding whatever your friends poured you into a plastic cup, the bass-boosted music meeting your ears.

"Y/n! You okay?" You looked up, almost wanting it to be Wednesday calling out for you, but why would Wednesday be at a party in the first place? You'd have better luck escaping this party unscathed.

Your mind snapped back, took a while, and you managed a weak smile. "Yeah—" you hic, "Yeah, I'm fine." You wiped your mouth with the side of your hand, squinting your eyes to figure out who was talking to you with a fucked up brain.

She offered you a smile—actually, you didn't know at this point. You were too zoned out. "So sorry, who are you again?" you slurred, your free hand roaming around your pockets to make sure your phone was still intact.

The girl laughed, a sound that your thoughts didn't pick up at something familiar. Or Wednesday. "I'm Kary. I'm in your class; biology." She offered you a handshake, which she voluntarily lowered when you offered to toast instead.

The two of you were never close, not even spending two years together couldn't be enough for a friendship to start. You always seemed to notice that Kary was quiet in class, never really speaking to anybody. Even the teachers don't pick her even if she sits in front of the board; you on the other hand was always called to recite, leading you to believe you were the opposite of a teacher's pet.

Ever since transferring to Nevermore, you were always the number one attendee at parties, even if you admitted they were not your style. You always told her how they're "filled with hormones", "a competition to see who gets knocked out passed out on the cold floor first," or just "simply for teenagers to drink their troubles away."

Despite your critiques on the matter, you were always there.

The night went on, and your mind was starting to feel hazy. More cloudy than it should be with the alcohol you're drinking. Kary's touched lingered longer on your arm, her body getting closer to yours, and she looks at you with half-lidded eyes.

She leaned in close to you, her lips almost going to yours if you hadn't slightly backed away. "Where's Wednesday? I thought she'd be here after that whole thing happened."

The mention of Wednesday definitely caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat while the empty drink in your hands kept fumbling in your grip as you stuttered over your words. "Wednesday—She's… She isn't really that fond of parties. You know the gist." You laughed, awkwardly, your hands trying to push her away from undoing your belt.

"Kary, I don't—" was all you could say before you were interrupted, "Don't what, Y/n? It's a party, enjoy it a little—"

"Kary, please, I said I don't—"

"I must say, y/n would rather be entertained by pigsty doing acrobatics to save their souls." A sharp voice cutting through the haze you were so desperately pleading your body to get rid of it.

Kary's hands withdrew from your belt almost immediately, her eyes widening in surprise. You turned to see Wednesday there, arms crossed as her gaze pierced through yours. But more on Karys. The party lights illuminating her presence.

"Wednesday! Why—Why are you here?"

"You've left me a string of incoherent messages that I would not like to decipher if not for Thing becoming a translator." She reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone that had a dozen of text messages—most if not all of it from your contact—flooding her homescreen begging for her to come to the party.

"I assume you needed my company."

"I didn't expect you'd, you know, come." You fumbled, your hand almost crushing the cup that was offered to you.

Before you could even respond, Kary interjected, "We were just having some fun, Addams." She spoke, for you. "Y/n was getting plenty of company."

"I assure you, having at least a dozen men falling under your belt should be much company for you. Not if you keep it hidden, I suppose," Wednesday stated, her tone cool and composed, but her fists were clenched under her arms and her jaw was locked.

You didn't know Wednesday was even calling your name out for the last 40 seconds, the alcohol finally taking a toll on your body as you just looked at the both of them.

Before anyone could say another word, Wednesday took your arm, her grip firm, tugging on you as if to call you back. "We're leaving. Now."

You stumbled alongside her, wondering where the hell did she even get all that strength to push you around. You shot a glance back at Kary, looking at you with crossed arms. You could almost feel sorry for the girl, you feel sorry for anyone who Wednesday decided to darken their footsteps. But you couldn't think of anything. Not when Wednesday had the most tight grip on your heart at the very moment.

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You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Wednesday pushed your back firmly against the door, her cold hands lingering on your chest, the click echoing through the room. Her eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense.

You couldn't hear a thing, every sound that entered your ear was distorted and meshed. "Did you even see the way she looked at you?" Wednesday's voice was low, a hint of possessiveness in her tone, her hands going to your throat.

Your breath hitched, your mind wandering through places as your hands sought freedom in her hips, your fingers gently sliding into her waistband. "I never pegged you to be the jealous type, Wednesday." You teased. A smile appeared across your lips, your eyes taunting Wednesday's serious ones, blinking. A falter in her gaze, you noticed.

Wednesday's grip on your throat tightened just enough to send a shiver down your spine, your mouth opening to let air out as she let her hands roam up to your face, her thumb grazing your lips. "Because I never am," she whispered, you whimpered.

Your smile turned into a foolish smirk, slightly laughing, "Then is there another reason why you're tearing my shirt apart?" you asked, your gaze drifting down to where Wednesday's free hand was frantically unbuttoning the blouse you had.

Her eyes followed yours, a faint red tint painting her cheeks as she huffed a puff of air, stopping her actions. "...That would never change my desire to slit her throat in half."

"Oh, aren't you a romantic?"

"Some would call it demented, I'd say effective."

She grabbed you by your collar, feeling your lifeless body obediently following her every move, staggering as you do so.

Soon enough, Wednesday let go of your collar and pressed you against the bed, your body fell and she followed suit. You feel dizzy, zoned out even, your hands going up to cup her face as she looms over you.

"You know, romantic or demented, it doesn't matter," you breathed, your voice rasped as you brought her face closer to yours as you allowed her fingers to unbutton your blouse, "it still won't help the fact I want you to fuck me."

Wednesday pulled back, a raise in her eyebrows, you couldn't see it if not for her messy fringe and hot breath on yours.

Her fingers, now paused onto the last button of your clothing, she traced a tantalizing trail on the edges without continuing, waiting for something.

You almost rolled your eyes, if not for the pleasure building inside you.

"God—fuck, please, Wednesday." You whimpered, pleaded out of desperation, running out of patience.

"Wasn't hard, was it?" She pulled you into a kiss, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Fuck, how she was so addictive. Her fingers roam freely around your chest of your body, letting your blouse fall open, while your hands wander down her back, caressing her curves as she perfectly arches her body against yours.

Every touch brought you to ecstasy, every silent whimper Wednesday gave brought you to heaven, everything about Wednesday made you feel as if you weren't alive.

You break the kiss, letting your lips fall to her neck. You let out a moan as you feel her body shudder against you, your chest rising and falling against hers while your hand slid through her hair, your fingers wrapping against her messy strands.

"I never thought you were into this." You look up to her, smirking.

"And I never thought you'd be attracted to someone like her." She fumed as if her name was taboo.

You sit up, an eyebrow arched in amusement. "You're still onto that?"

"I'll take it to my grave."

"Jealousy fits you, baby." You teased, a smirk playing on your lips as you pulled up your thigh, tracing lines against her clothed clit.

"It's—It's horrid." she stammered, her breath hitching as she shut her eyes and shuddered at the endearment, her jaw clenched to prevent anything from coming out of her.

You couldn't retort back, a sly comment was about to escape your lips until Wednesday took both of your wrists and pinned them together, her body adjusting and going up to your chest.

"Behave."

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a/n: damn i realized i do not know how to write atleast a tiny bit of smut to save my life. also probably going in more about how Wednesday feels about their rs next chap!

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega

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querenciasturniolo · 8 months

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Could you do one where Matt and reader have been dating for like, a year and reader has been in multiple vlogs and car videos, and the fans love her. So, when the internet starts going crazy speculating that Matt has a girlfriend, they do a podcast about reader and Matt's relationship and they're flirting the whole time, Nick and Chris can't stand it, jokingly, but put up with it. So, when they release the pod episode, the fans go crazy, and Matt and reader are just openly flirting with each other online and it's all just so cute and fluffy. If you can't, I completely understand. I hope you have a wonderful day and / or night! <3

sick ⮕ m.s.

word count: 759

warnings: swearing, mentions of kissing, scooby-doo reference

summary: request

a/n: this was so fucking cute, i loved writing it

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Good morning campers, welcome to the Cut the Camera Podcast. I’m Nicolas Sturniolo.”

You glanced over at Matt, eyeing his side profile as he tightened his arm around your shoulder and pulled the mic towards him. It was your fault the secret came out when it did, you made googly eyes at him every chance you got, and he knew every single time.

“I’m Matthew Sturniolo.” He said, looking down at you with furrowed brows and a soft smile.

“And I’m gonna be sick.” Chris said, your jaw dropping in amusement as you whipped your head towards him. He laughed into the mic and shrugged his shoulders. “It isn’t my fault you’re staring at Matt like the sun shines out of his ass.” He said.

You rolled your eyes and pulled your mic close to you. “And what about it?” You shot back, Matt scoffing and running a hand over his face.

“Well, I guess that is one way to start the topic. Why don’t we go ahead and introduce our special guest, Matt?” Nick prompted, Matt uncovering his face and adjusting his headphones. He looked into one of the cameras and smiled, looking back down at you. “Go ahead.”

You cleared your throat and looked into the camera, pulling your mic towards your face and sighing into it. “If you don’t know me, I’m Y/n. I’ve known these losers for a couple of years now.” You said, turning your head and smiling at Matt. “And dating this specific loser for a little over a year, and if it wasn’t for you meddling kids, we could have gotten away with keeping it a secret for a little longer.” Your eyes met the camera again with raised eyebrows and an amused smile. “No, in all seriousness, it’s funny the way everyone found out.” You said.

Matt chuckled and shook his head. “So, basically, this podcast episode is talking about how we met Y/n, how she somehow got stuck with Matt, and how you all figured out the secret.” He said, his fingers tapping against your arm lightly from where his hand was draped over your shoulders.

“And Nick and I are going to try and keep our food down while we’re at it.” Chris said. You rolled your eyes and adjusted your mic.

“Chris is just jealous, don’t listen to him.” Nick said, Chris scoffing into his cup. You threw your head back and laughed, grateful that the microphone only picked up the slightest sound of the raucous noise.

The pod went by smoothly, the four of you bouncing off of each other with jokes and stories that all of you loved. One particular story, you noticed, the fans were editing like crazy.

“Look at this.” Matt said, holding his phone so you could see it from where your head was laid in his lap.

“That isn’t how it happened!” Matt exclaimed, the camera panning to Chris rolling his eyes, and then back to you with your face in your hands to hide your embarrassment.

“That abso-fuckin-lutely is how it happened. You were walking Y/n out, and I ran downstairs to remind her to bring her camera the next day, and I caught you kissing her goodnight! Don’t tell me what I remember, that shit still haunts my nightmares.”

The edit continued, more clips of Chris rolling his eyes at the camera and laughing in slow motion to a song you couldn’t recognize.

You sighed and looked up at Matt. “Out of all of the stories we told on how Nick and Chris found out, that isn’t the one I’d expect to be blowing up.” You said, pressing the comments icon and smiling at all of the sweet things being said about your relationship.

“I mean, it is probably the funniest story we told, Chris was more animated than he’d been in a long time.” Matt said, liking the Tiktok and locking his phone. With his hands free, he traced mindless designs on your arm with his fingertips, and ran his other hand through your hair.

You hummed and closed your eyes, completely relaxing onto the couch. “I saw one the other day, and it was a gag counter. I think Chris hit like thirty before the end of the pod.” Matt said, a huff of air leaving your nose as you grinned and looked up at him.

“There’s no way it was less than fifty, it was ridiculous.” You said, Matt laughing softly above you and shrugging his shoulders.

“Not my problem we make him sick.”

tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @tuktuk34 , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @babytomatoes , @jellybeanbby

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo imagine

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creativesaturn · 2 months

Note

Could you write something fun about Reid dating a Master/PhD student and everyone is like “how could you???” making jokes about how he is the weird teacher that goes out with his students.

She is not his student, she doesn’t even go to the same college he teaches.

Summary: Spencer's new girlfriend happens to be a student, raising questions and laughs from the team members.

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: None but lmk!

Word count: 645

a/n: I hope this is okay!🫶 also, if you're wondering why I only include three members.. I'd be lying if I said I was only on season 10 of criminal minds and I don't know any of the characteristics of anyone else.....

"I'm not sure, this guy's got a real temper." JJ commented as she read through the case file, her eyes darting from words to the pictures.

Spencer looked up for a split second to look at JJ, but when he did he got a glimpse of a familiar face through the blinds. You were looking around, confusion written on your face as you looked for, what he safely assumed, was himself. His eyebrows furrowed and suddenly everyone's words were going in one ear, and out the other.

"Uh, give me five minutes." He announced to the table, everyone staring at him in confusion as he got up and walked out the door.

"What are you doing here?" He asked as he approached you. You had your hands in front of you that held onto a brown paper bag, a smile on your face.

"You forgot your lunch!" You quickly frowned, holding the bag up in front of you.

"You're supposed to be studying." He stated, bringing a hand up to rub your forearm.

You groaned in response, "I need a break, Spence! I've been studying all day." You whined, throwing your head back.

He moved his hand to the back of your head to bring your face back to his.

"Exams are coming up, y/n." He sighed, "I'm sure you'll do great, but you really need to study." He added, grabbing onto the bag with his other hand.

You rolled your eyes, moving your head to the side only to catch eye contact with every member staring at the both of you. You laughed, amused, but not surprised everyone was being nosey.

He followed your eyes to everyone staring, as he looked back he brought his hand down from your head with a tight lipped smile.

"Fine, I'll go study." You sighed in defeat, placing a hand on his shoulder. He subconsciously aimed his head down, giving you access to his forehead to place a soft kiss.

"Bye, Spence." You smiled, turning around and making your way out the bullpen.

"Study." He called out, causing you to laugh as you walked out the glass doors.

He placed the paper bag on his desk on his way to the round table. The moment he stepped foot inside, everyone watched his with wide eyes.

He hadn't taken in account that when he left, he left the door open as well. Meaning they could've easily heard the conversation without needing to get up and move closer.

"Study? Is she some sort of student? She looked pretty young." JJ asked, being the first to raise suspicion.

When she spoke, everyone else looked at her and nodded in agreement.

"Uhm, sorta. I mean yeah, she's a student.." He answered, sort of mumbled as he took his seat.

"Wow, Spence. I didn't take you for the student, teacher type of guy." Emily teased, amused laced in her tone.

"What are you--?" Spencer attempted to ask, considering you weren't his student, he didn't think it mattered. But his words were cut short from Rossi butting in.

"How could you, Spencer Reid, be comfortable with that?" Rossi asked, genuinely curious, Spencer could tell by the way he narrowed his eyes and leaned closer.

"It's not that weird?" His brows furrowed, and it wasn't. It wasn't weird at all, you met how anyone would meet Spencer. He didn't see how you, being a student was relevant.

"So, you're just the teacher that goes out with his students now?" JJ went on, raising a brow at Spencer, and a look on her face that said, 'Did you think about that?' without words.

"She's not even--" But before Spencer could defend himself, Emily finally decided that they were getting too off track and needed to focus. Which annoyed Spencer, he's being accused of something that wasn't true and now, had no time to defend himself.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

#creativesaturn #syd's spencer fics #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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sl4sh3rsub · 4 months

Text

billy lenz hcs (nsfw: mdni)

billy lenz x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: this is set in the mid-to-late 70s, perversion, old school + kinda one-sided phone sex, billy is loud as fuck + a creep + delusional, scent/musk kink, cumming on clothing, copious mentions of cum + precum, using cum as lube, dry humping, extremely dubious consent (somnophilia), masturbation (+ billy edging), oral sex (both giving + receiving, facefucking reeiiving), reader is referred to as 'piggy', p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), ass eating/nondescript tongue fucking (giving + receiving), handjob mention, implied violence (not towards reader), overstimulation (giving + receiving), diy home reno gloryhole, old school cum tribute, foot humping/light cbt??, light bondage (pun), sex toys (for billy), hickeys + biting (giving + receiving)

a/n: kinda edited. happy holidays folks!! this might be ooc but i swear i tried. was gonna add more feet stuff bc it's billy, but decided against it. if you're into that kinda thing, use your imagination - i only mentioned it once and i think that's enough tbh. this one also doesn't have as much literal sexual intercourse as my other hcs (just a heads up) it's been a hot minute since i've watched the film, so the characteristics might be off (i based this on my own interpretation of him and i haven't really read any billy fics recently.. oops) it's a little rushed but i really did try! hope you like it

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

billy got bored of all the sorority piggies and moved, hiding in a mixed residential college dorm building - a creaky colonial-style residence with a spacious attic. the first time he sees you, you're getting dressed to join the other boarders for dinner. billy heard you humming to a radio and peered down between the cracks in the stained floorboard. he's been unhealthily obsessed with you since then <3

billy is an absolute pervert and will sexualize anything and everything you do. from scratching your neck to wandering around your room in your underwear, he's already ogling and muttering how much of a fuckin tease you are

he becomes bolder over time and eventually sneaks into your room at night. after you catch him lurking in the darkness of your room and he doesn't get immediately thrown out, he grows more and more trusting of you. billy becomes accepting of your begrudging attraction to him and he definitely takes full advantage of it :< you reluctantly give him permission to venture into your room if he needs company or an outlet for his pent-up sexual energy - it must be pretty cold and lonely in the attic, what's the harm in cuddling with the lanky man? he's already your dirty secret and at this point, he'd kill for you

his favourite pastime is calling your room's rotary phone during the day and either making mundane conversation with you or having you listen to his rambling as he strokes his cock, not even ten feet away from you. if you start bashfully touching yourself to his babbling or accidentally let slip a moan, tilt your head towards the ceiling so he can see your blissed-out expressions (he definitely cums on the spot)

if you want to get in his good books, put some old cabaret music on your cassette player and give billy a show - whether it's a sensual strip tease or you touching yourself on your bed, billy will be over the moon. as the music ends and the room is quiet - apart from your heavy breathing and thumping heartbeat - little gasps and applause drifts down from your ceiling, making you blush and whisper your thanks

there is not a moment when this man is quiet. in sexual situations, of course he's going to breath loudly, growl and spout obscenities, but even in regular conversation he rambles and expresses his opinions in long, convoluted trains of thought

billy loves it when you're just with him - in reality, you're alone in your room with a creep peering down at you from above, but it's better to let him be delusional. no harm has come of it... yet

don't worry your silly little head about the opaque liquid dripping from ceiling, directly above the bed :< it's either his spit, tears or precum drooling down between the wooden paneling from him constantly edging, the sight of you just existing is enough to turn him on. if it somehow lands on you, billy will cum instantly at the sight of you with his love painting your skin. you look like his perfect piggy, he can't help it :(

he has a habit of dragging his leaking tip over your face while you sleep, smearing his musky precum over your skin for you to smell when you wake. his favourite hobby is staining your skin in his stinky, salty scent - from cumming in your underwear as a way of marking you to wiping off his pre on your lips (as to not stain his boxers), he will make any excuse to clean off his cock on you. if you've been dismissive of him or too caught up in studying, he'll threaten to wake you up by dragging his musty balls over your face. just saying.

whenever he sneaks down to spend time with you skin-to-skin, billy practically goes feral. he's already jittery and constantly rock hard, so expect him to hump you like the degenerate mutt he is. every time you hug or lie next to him, he'll wrap his arms around you and start grinding against you, burying his face in your shoulder. he might not even want to initiate sex!! billy just wants to show his affection and attraction to you :(

billy isn't lying on the phone calls about what he wants to do to you. his inexperience is second to his enthusiasm and need to tongue-fuck you at every given opportunity. your spit-shined, sloppy hole is his favourite view on any day of the week and you bet he's going to make the most of it. make sure to place down a towel under his hips while he goes to town, he tends to leak precum freely and stain your bedsheets whenever you two so much as hug :>

he is a massive drooler, so watch out for the spit puddles on your pillow and mattress after he graces you with a visit. billy is also massive fan of visiting you in the dark - be it night or whenever you have your curtains closed - as he is pretty embarrassed about his constant ahegao face. it's especially prevalent when you touch him just right or suckle on his skin in that perfect spot

billy is constantly babbling about how much you can take his juicy, meaty cock in your tight piggy hole and frantically escalates whenever you pick up the phone. he always describes how he's gonna taste your arousal and fuck you until your legs are shaking, his fingers itching to touch every inch of you. billy's third-person descriptions throw you off a little, but he gets the point across pretty well. his insane squeals and huffs get louder as the lewd, wet rhythm picks up with every passing minute

if someone picks on you, he'll find their phone number and target them with streams of profanities and harassment until they leave you alone and back off. if you come home crying from a bad experience around strangers or tell him of someone who attempted to hurt you, he'll take it upon himself to dispose of them. how else would he rid himself his violent urges? he has to protect you and keep you for himself somehow

expect weird, out of place stains on all of your clothing. from small splatters to large and obvious splotches, every clothing item has remnants of his visits to your dorm room

billy has long-winded phone calls with you, about everything from your life to your interests and favourite things. there's shuffling above you every once in a while, but don't worry about it. it's not possums or raccoons in the insulation, just billy trying to get comfortable - his back aches from craning his neck to see you in, leering from in between the wooden gaps

he will leave you little scribbled notes on crumpled, used envelopes - his barely legible chicken scratch goes on about how pretty you look when he's looking down at you and how fun you are to play with

billy is incredibly touch starved - he'll regift items he finds laying around in exchange for kisses or even a rushed handjob (if he asks nicely enough). the nicer and less dusty the present, the better the reward

his idea of heaven is the feeling of you gagging and choking on his dick, especially the dazed look in your eyes while he fucks your face. the way you catch your breath and let him just stand above you, staring at the mess of cum he made on your face, has his heart pounding in his chest. billy's gaze is one of pure adoration, especially when you have his throbbing cock resting safely in your mouth

prepare to be overstimulated!! he's a fuck machine and will go until he's shooting blanks, or you shove him off to take a break. he is so conditioned from his constant masturbating that he does not get soft after shooting his load - he keeps hissing through the sensitivity as he drills into you like a jackrabbit, hitting your deepest points and sending shivers down your spine. he uses his thick, goopy cum as lube half of the time - he often cums the second he pushes into you, feeling your warmth around him. good thing he has animalistic stamina and strong thighs :>

billy is extremely noisy but will gladly attempt to muffle himself if it means he won't get found out, if it means he gets to stay in the residence - with you - for longer. he's a whiny and breathy moaner though, so never expect complete silence

his pale skin practically glows under the moonlight whenever he pays you a night-time visit. his cock bobs whenever you ghost your fingers over his side and through his hair, precum pooling and dripping down his long length as he gently moves his foreskin back to reveal his flushed - borderline purplish red - cock head. the few freckles scattering his tummy and the wild, wispy brown bush surrounding his base makes him feel pretty insecure about his body - it's not at all like the buff, tan men in the risqué mags or porno tapes. reassure him that he's mouthwateringly attractive, swollen cock and all. the one downside of giving billy head is that his cum tastes very acidic and bitter - invite him to share a healthy lunch of salad and fruit with a healthy jug of water every once in a while, it'll benefit you both

most of the encounters between you two will happen at night or with him partially obscured, but eventually he'll gain enough confidence to emerge from his den and visit during the daytime

he makes a glory hole at the top of the stairs that lead to the attic - he knocks out a section of paneling that's hidden next to a cabinet, perfect for you to hide behind while kneeling :< he's not that considerate though, he still forces you to be vigilant while he makes you choke on his length without a care - you can't give him away, not in a compromising position like this!!

he sneaks into your bathroom and showers with your hair product and soap whenever he feels lonely. he's too musty to change his clothing and wear some of yours, but he's not above nicking your clothes detergent whenever your scent starts fading away.

billy is also in the habit of hiding in the shower behind the partially see-through curtain, lurking - his presence makes you hum in greeting as you wash your hands in the sink. he might stick his hard cock out from behind the curtain and giggle as it bobs just in your line of sight. if you decide to glance up at the tall silhouette while you take him down your throat, you'll see his hands scrunching the material into a wrinkled mess. at least you have billy's musty cardigan to kneel on, bruised knees are never fun

if you fall asleep while studying on your desk, he'll scuttle down and shift you ontop of the bed - he can't have his object of affection feeling under the weather. strained muscles and unnecessary soreness are gonna get in the way of your fun time with billy!

you might think you're going insane from time to time... don't worry though. the giggles, shuffling and faint moans echoing in your head are real, he's living directly above you after all. nothing to worry about :<

he is a little bit of a hoarder and definitely a thief - from strands of your hair on the floor to dirty tissues that landed in the bin after a masturbation session, it all ends up in billy's little gross pile of stuff in the corner of his lair

billy is creepy and definitely sneaks into your room at night to jerk off furiously in the corner - he loves looming in the shadows as his tip leaks like a broken faucet, groaning at the peaceful sight of you sleeping without a care. if he's feeling adventurous, he'll use your limp hand to hold his balls as he drips all over your mattress and strokes his length

whenever he's bored of the stashed porn mags in the attic, billy watches you below as you study and his hand wanders south. he uses your speed of writing as the metronome of his strokes and tries his best to not fuck his hand at the thought of giving you some 'under the desk support'

while you're out in classes, he beelines towards your bed and takes a nap in your bed, cuddling with one of your plushies. you may have caught him mid-snooze more than once, but you'd best not bring up how cute the stinky man looks or else he'll start sulking

billy guilt trips you into paying more attention to him - he needs someone to talk to plus he can fuck you too, what else could you possibly want? you see how needy he is firsthand when you return after class, walking in on him pinching his nipples as he bucks his hips and humps into your pillow. his desperate whines of your name tug at your heartstrings as you coo at his pathetic display. he really does get lonely though - billy likes imagining how it would feel to be hugged by you whenever he's feeling chilly upstairs

he will sit on your face as he gets off on demeaning you, sensually running his fingers over his cockhead as he rests his tight balls on the bridge of your nose. he has a knack for degrading you but isn't able to resist praising you, babbling about how good you're being for him and how hard he is because of you

he scatters polaroid cum tributes around your room whenever he visits without you noticing. all of the photos he took of you are eerie and at angles that could only be explained by him tailing you throughout your day-to-daylife. don't feel paranoid though, he's only wanting to ensure your safety! unfortunately, the evidence of his lurking was too tempting for him... it's now permanently stained with evidence of his lust. hope you like the present

billy asks you to buy him a vibrator for christmas! why- what do you mean no? but he gets lonely, he'll need something to keep him company. would you change your mind if he says you can use it on him too? :>

he cleans up your room to the best of his ability! he's not all altruistic though... billy steals your chewed pencils, sniffs your dirty underwear and swaps out your sweaty pillowcases to cuddle with and huff your scent from later

billy lenz is actually gross. he will want to bend over you and bury his nose into your chest, armpits and crotch after a long day. your sweat is such a turn-on for him, his cock swelling the moment you swing open your dorm door with a tired groan

if he wants to be more submissive to you, he'll beg you to help him cum by lightly grinding your foot into his throbbing cock. billy's bulge may strain against his sweatpants and tears may roll down his face, but the damp patch betrays his filthy arousal as it grows progressively bigger. the moment you comment on his enjoyment, he flushes deep red and his masochistic grin betrays how drunk he is on the pressure of your foot

tie him to a chair with old christmas lights he found in the attic, the glass bulb clinking together as he shivers at your teasing - slowly suck his cock and trail up to his tip with your tongue, edging him to the point of tears. he drools as you squeeze his cock slightly in his hand and scold him for being such a pervert

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but billy never fails to groan how amazing you feel as you clench around him

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'juicy piggy cock' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout a night when billy pays you a visit, he'll palm and kiss at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each passing moment. his guilty pleasure is dragging his tongue along your length and hearing your bleary whimpers

find two dildos that have a similar size and shape as you! he is pretty inexperienced in same-sex relationships, so why not help him practice? it'll be much easier for him to train his hole and gag reflex if he can practice on your size, even when you're away from your dorm :>

billy gets extremely jealous whenever you speak to anyone ever :( if he catches you planning a date or even talking to someone else, he'll whine a lot more than normal and sniffle down the line the next time you pick up the receiver. he might be able to pass it off as his normal attitude and shenanigans, but you know him better than he gives you credit for. invite him down to your room, cuddle him for a bit and fuck him into the mattress to show how much you care - whisper about how good he's being for you and mark up his neck with love bites

tangle your fingers in his hair as you kiss down his jaw, guiding him to sit in your lap as you shift in your seat and buck up into him. watch as his eyes roll and his tongue lolls as you hit his prostate over and over, fucking him dumb so easily

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him down to the balls

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy cunt' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your pussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark his territory your whole body

he wants you to sit on his face!! billy will eat you out like no tomorrow, throbbing and leaking uncontrollably into your sheets. he slurps and sucks on your clit until you see stars - despite his inexperience, his vigor and obvious enjoyment makes up for his sloppy movements

he squishes and squeezes at your tits as he sits crisscross on your mattress, staring in fascination. his excitement visibly increases at every mewl and whine from your mouth, jolting at your louder noises and chuckling at your breathless gasps. the softness of your breasts always catches him off-guard, his constant need to cum all over your chest becoming more and more obvious

the lewd sounds of him stroking his cock and you fingering your cunt are all the more prevalent whenever you're lying down together and he's spooning you. he's panting into your hair, wrapping his free arm around your waist from behind as you circle you clit firmly. the obscene, sloppy sounds echoing throughout your room end up on replay in both your heads for the next day

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how handsome you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you take him to the hilt

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'wet piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

billy cums all over your boypussy as you sleep, leaving you to blearily wake up in confusion as it cools on your skin. it's already a messy cleanup, so be thankful he didn't choose to mark your skin up as well. he's a notorious biter and will not shy away from leaving bruises to ward off competition

he loves cornering you against your wall in the middle of the night - everything from the feeling of your arousal coating onto his fingers as he jerks you off, to the sharpness of your teeth biting into his shoulders as you muffle yourself. his favourite part is feeling your muscles slowly relaxing as you come down from your high

he suckles on your tcock as you leak down and coat his chin in your cum. billy will be a menace and run his cockhead against your hole and use your precum to jack off, coating your heated skin in his thick spend

he loves hearing how ruined the both of you become whenever you fuck yourself on his cock - he has the perfect vantage point to watch you bounce on his lap as he digs his fingers into your waist, sloppy sounds echoing around the room as his balls slap against your ass. billy's panting whimpers sound so pretty as he grits his teeth whenever you clench on his length

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

he mutters how soft your skin is and how pretty you look under him. yes, he might narrate the entire time (in third person, nonetheless) but he groans out how amazing you feel as you clench around him. he has a habit of burying his nose in your hair whenever he bottoms out, needing to be drowned in your scent and the feeling of your pussy

if you lie quietly in bed, you'll hear obscene and muffled ramblings about your 'pretty piggy hole' and billy's perverted fantasies drifting down from the paneled ceiling

if you roll onto your back throughout the night, he mouths at your bulge as you sleep. he hisses in delight whenever you hump into his warm mouth, muffled noises becoming breathier with each throb against his lips

he will swipe a lipstick or two for you - the sight of you with it smeared all over your face after a rough facefucking makes him giggle with glee, the pigment staining the base of his cock. he thinks you're all the more beautiful when he gets to ruin your makeup after you're all done up for him

billy latches onto your tits whenever you're shirtless - he loves leaving teeth marks and bruises around your nipples, practically marking his territory. he especially loves when the purple love-bites peek out over the cup of your bra :>

he loves bending you over your bed whenever he fucks you, your face buried in your pillow to muffle you loud noises as your girlcock dribbles all over your sheets. it's not like billy isn't making a mess either - his drool flying everywhere as he fucks you in a frenzy, balls slapping against the back of your pretty thighs. no matter how much or how deep he cums in you, it always dribbles back out of you and stains your bedding with the drying droplets

_ _ _ _ _

if modern day billy lenz had a ph account and made videos of him masturbating in the dark (while making his weird noises and shit), he would have a solid fanbase of weirdos who find it creepy and hot. i'm saying this as someone who would watch him religiously btw :>

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

Text

no one speaks to you like that

r deals with a cruel coach at the world cup. misa makes it better. feat. the girls finding out that their friends are together.

The door slammed shut behind him, and you exhaled a deep breath, collapsing back onto the bed. You'd never been more unhappy to have your own room than at that moment.

You'd stepped out of the bathroom post shower, just barely throwing on clothes, when you'd heard a knock at your door. You were hoping it was Misa, but when the door opened to reveal Vilda on the other side, you felt your heart sink. He had his characteristic scowl on his face as he stepped past you.

The following 15 minutes were what could only be categorized as verbal abuse. He went after everything; your skills, how hard you were trying, how fast you were, how you were "clearly not" following the meal plan he arbitrarily changed whenever he felt like it. You stood, completely still, looking just over his shoulder, taking it. You wouldn't argue, that never ended well. You didn't let yourself cry either, because he never appreciated tears. Instead, you let the words wash over you, and dug your nails into your palm.

You thought of Misa the whole time. How if she heard what he was saying she'd probably do something to get herself more than benched this time; maybe sent home. The last time Vilda had gone after you like this, he had made the mistake of doing it in view of Misa, who completely lost it at him. Now, she was unlikely to play the rest of the tournament, and Vilda seemed to enjoy screaming at you more than anyone else.

No one knew about the two of you, even if Vilda suspected. No one else had witnessed her reaction to his cruel words directed at you; everyone just knew she'd argued with him, and she would be riding the bench no matter how far we got. The division within the team was stark, and although Misa was a Real Madrid player, she mostly hung out with the Barcelona girls; with you. You'd gotten together a few months ago, and decided to keep it to yourselves, not wanting to deal with her club teammates finding another reason to dislike her.

When Vilda finished, you just wanted Misa. You wanted to wrap yourself up in her strong arms, bury your whole body in her larger one. You never felt safer than when Misa held you tightly to her. You knew that you should probably find Alexia or Irene and tell them what happened, but you didn't want to make a big deal out of it. You pulled out your phone, intending to see if Misa was alone, so you could go to her. You needed to get out of this room; the scent of Vilda's aftershave hung in the room like a fog, and it felt like it was suffocating you.

-Are you by yourself?

-Yes. Do you need me?

You could practically see the smirk lighting up the goalkeepers face as you read her response; you did need her, just not in the way she was implying.

-Can I come up? Vilda just left.

The little bubble that let you know she was typing appeared and disappeared a few times, before her reply came through.

-Dick. Yes, of course, please come up.

With that, you slipped your phone into your pocket, grabbing your room key, and headed out the door. You yanked your hood up, trying to hide the tears leaking out of your eyes. You walked down the hall, trying to keep yourself from crying until you got to Misa's room.

You heard voices coming from the direction of the elevator you were headed too, unmistakably those of Alexia and Jenni. Fuck. You had nowhere to go, and as soon as they saw you, they wouldn't let you out of their sight until you told them what was wrong. You had no choice but to keep walking towards them, turning the corner, hoping they'd be too wrapped up in conversation to notice you.

"Y/n!! We're gonna watch a movie in Mario and Ale's room, come with," Jenni called the minute she spotted you. You didn't know how to say no, so you said nothing, trying to walk past them.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Alexia asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop your movements. Again, you didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the ground. A gentle hand came to tug your hood off your head, before lifting your chin up. Your watery eyes met the older girls.

"What happened?" Jenni questioned, looking overly protective even though she didn't know what happened. She kept her hand under your chin, not allowing you to drop your gaze again.

"Nothing, I'm fine, I'm just going to hangout with Ona," you lied, trying to shake off their hands.

"What happened," Alexia asked, in a firmer voice. It wasn't mean, or harsh, but it still reminded you of the verbal lashing you'd just endured, and more tears were flooding your eyes before you could stop them.

"Vilda," you started, before a sob escaped your lips.

"Fucking hell," Jenni swore, pulling you tightly against her. "What did he say?"

"Come on, bring her to my room," Alexia said quietly, looking furious, realizing you weren't going to respond. Jenni maneuvered you down the hall, never letting go, through the door to Alexia's room, before pushing you to sit down on the edge of her bed. You wanted to pull your phone out and tell Misa that you'd been intercepted, but you couldn't do that without arising suspicion. Also, you couldn't really see clearly through the tears blurring your vision.

Alexia spoke a few words to Mariona, who looked equally as murderous as the other 2 girls, and you knew you needed to pull it together and make sure none of them did something stupid. They were all older than you, and were quite protective. It wouldn't be the first time they clashed with Vilda over him mistreating younger players, but with the semifinals coming up, you knew you couldn't risk anyone else getting benched.

The problem was that you were only getting more worked up, even as Jenni wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and began talking quietly in your ear.

"Whatever he said isn't true, I promise. You're an important member of this team, and you haven't done anything wrong," she told you.

You nodded, but the tears wouldn't stop. The embarrassment you felt was only making you cry harder. Alexia took a seat on the other side of you, placing a hand on your back.

"Jenni's right, you haven't done any-" her words were cut off by a frantic knock at the door. You knew who it was, even as the other girls exchanged confused looks. Mariona went to answer it, as Jenni and Alexia looked curiously after her.

No sooner had Mariona opened the door, than Misa's panicked voice was filling the room.

"Have you seen y/n? She texted me that Vilda..." She trailed off as Mariona stepped to the side, revealing your shaking form sitting in between your captains. The other girls watched as Misa's face melted from one of panic into one of pure adoration; one they'd never seen on her face before.

"Y/n, baby," she said, seemingly forgetting that you weren't alone. Your teammates exchanged looks, Mariona and Jenni mouthing “baby??” at each other, as Misa crossed the room, tugging you out from under the arms of Jenni and Alexia, pulling you into hers. They were just as surprised to see you wrap your arms around Misa, clutching tightly to her sweatshirt. Your tears immediately slowed as Misa held you tight, the feel of her around you calming you down instantly.

"I'll kill him," Misa said through clenched teeth, addressing no one in particular.

"Easy there, why don't you tell us what the hell is going on before you go kill him," Jenni said, glaring at Misa. Your Barca teammates had clearly connected the dots, and did not appreciate that you were clearly keeping a secret from them. Misa made to let go of you, make this more of a conversation had with you, rather than one spoken over your head, but you only tightened your grip on her, shaking your head into her chest. Her attention was, again, solely on you as she pulled you over to the other bed, tucking you under one arm as she sat down.

Misa was still gazing at you, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp as you emerged from her chest, wiping harshly at your face. Her hands pushed yours out of the way, ridding your face of tears much more gently than you had been doing. The simple gesture was so sweet, so intimate, and Alexia cleared her throat, drawing both of yours attention back to her.

"Well? How long has this been going on?" She asked, voice no longer the soft tone she had been using with you, instead replaced by what can only be described as her authoritative voice. Misa retreated to the rather quiet version of herself that most people experienced, and you spoke up. Still, her arm remained protectively wrapped around you and no one missed the way you leaned into her unconsciously.

"Since May,"

"And you didn't think you should maybe tell us that you were in a relationship with someone on the team? A relationship that appears to be pretty important to you?" Jenni asked. Her jaw was clenched, but she didn't look like mad Jenni, she looked like sad Jenni. You realized the three of them were not necessarily angry, but hurt that you'd kept this from them. You paused, unsure how to respond to that. In truth, Misa had asked to keep it to yourselves, but you didn't want to throw her under the bus. She had no such reservations.

"I asked her to not tell you guys. I didn't want anyone to know anything until I figured out how serious y/n was about me. And by the time I figured that out, we were at camp, and I didn't want to give my club teammates another reason to be... the way they are with me."

The other girls stared at the pair of you, somewhat stunned at the vulnerability just shown by Misa in admitting all of that. She was a reserved person, a private person, someone much happier to help her friends than allow them in at all.

"Well... that makes sense," Alexia said decisively. "We won't tell anyone."

Misa nodded once, a small smile gracing her lips, before she turned to look down at you.

"What did Vilda say?" She asked, eyeing you carefully. In response, you just shrugged, refusing to make eye contact. You absolutely did not want to discuss what he'd said in front of the rest of your teammates; you trusted them, but the things he had said were humiliating. Misa seemed to pick up on this, as did Alexia, as they quickly made eye contact, and Misa stood, pulling you with her.

"Let's go back to my room, yeah?" She asked quietly, and you smiled gratefully at her. Mariona and Jenni both voiced their disapproval at that idea.

"I have like 15 more questions for the two of you," Jenni protested.

"Yeah, what are we supposed to do, just let you go back to Misa's room all alone? We have a game tomorrow, girls." Mariona said teasingly.

"Alright, let them go." Alexia said, hiding a smirk at Mariona's comment. It really hadn't been that funny, but the way you and Misa immediately blushed, and looked anywhere but at your friends was amusing.

You and Misa walked out of the room, ignoring the suggestive jokes that Jenni and Mariona were making. You walked in complete silence to the elevator and up to Misa's room. You'd broken apart the minute you'd exited the room, and Misa longed to take your hand. Now that you were away from your friends and their teasing, it seemed the weight of whatever Vilda had said to you was settling back on top of you.

You allowed Misa to pull you into her room, nudging you to sit on the bed, as she took a seat next to you. You were distracted, caught up in your own head, only looking up at her worried brown eyes when she said your name softly.

"Are you okay?" She asked, feeling like she probably knew the answer. You shook your head slightly, leaning to lean more against the brunette. "Tell me what he said," she requested, and you sighed.

"More of the usual. I'm not playing hard enough, I'm not fast enough, not good enough," you paused. You looked up at your girlfriend, not sure if you should continue and tell her the worst part. She smiled encouragingly, a smile you only saw on her face when it was just the two of you. "He told me I need to start following the meal plan better, because 'it's clear' that I'm not," you finished quietly.

Misa's hands clenched into fists once again, knowing exactly how those words would effect you. She, more than anyone, knew that you struggled with keeping your habits around eating and working out healthy, and not letting them become obsessive. The goalkeeper reigned in her anger, though, realizing that it was clearly not what you needed from her.

She lifted your chin with one of her large hands, her touch gentler than you thought possible. "He's wrong, baby. You're having an incredible tournament. We're as far as we are partially because of you," she said earnestly.

"And yes, you aren't following his stupid meal plans, because he isn't a dietician, and you need to be careful with how you keep track of what you're putting in your body. You're doing what you need to do to stay healthy, and that is what's important."

You were still looking at her with so much doubt, as though you desperately wanted to believe her, but weren't sure if you could. Deciding that maybe words had taken her as far as they could, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours, hard, in what she hoped was a reassuring way. You met her with enthusiasm, relaxing into the kiss as your mouths moved in sync with each other.

After a few moments, she pulled back pressing her forehead to yours. You looked slightly dazed, and Misa bit back a smirk at the effect she had on you.

"You are beautiful" she whispered, "you are strong, and you are fueling your body in the way you need to, in order to do your job. And I am so proud of you."

Misa often shocked you with how gentle, how kind and soft she could be. She put on such a hard exterior, all harsh frowns and flexed muscles on the pitch. Off the pitch, she was only slightly less intimidating, opting often to remain quiet and listen, her hard expression only wavering when she was around people she was comfortable with.

She was so different when you were alone with her though, the severe expression that normally rested on her face melting away to soft lips that pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, and wide eyes that looked at you with so much love.

It hadn't started off that way; it had started as passionate, rough hookups. Slowly though, you wore her down. She couldn't get enough of you, and she eventually stopped trying to.

She was enamored with you, and you with her. Privately, she felt that you made her a better person, a kinder person. You felt like she had a unique ability to make you laugh when nothing seemed funny, and hold you together when you felt like you were minutes from falling apart. Like right now. She knew exactly what to say, what to tell you.

"I'll say something to him," she said quietly, and you pushed her off of you, sitting up.

"No, Misa, you can't," you argued. She looked determined, a familiar smoldering look on her face, one she got when she was getting ready to save a penalty.

"Baby, he can't speak to you in that way," she began.

"No!" you responded, almost shouting. She looked at you in surprise, startled to see an incredibly panicked expression on your face.

"Calm down, y/n-"

"No, you can't say something to him. Promise me you won't. Please," you interrupted, almost begging.

"Why? I'm already benched what else could he do?" she wondered.

"He could send you home, Misa. And if you left, I couldn't... I couldn't do this, not without you," you responded, looking at her desperately. Misa brought you back into her arms before responding, holding you tight.

"Alright, baby. I won't say anything. I'm not going anywhere, and you don't have to do this without me," she promised.

"Thank you," you murmured. The goalkeeper smiled at you softly, rubbing your cheek gently with her thumb. You still looked nervous, still upset, biting the inside of your cheek like you were thinking hard. She waited patiently, content to sit in silence until you were ready to say what was on your mind.

"I'm sorry they found out. I just kind of freaked out when I ran into them, and I wanted to find you but they were in the hall..."

"Don't worry about that. I don't care that they found out. I don't care if everyone knows i'm with you. I just care that you're okay," she told you. "Anyway, now that Jenni has probably told the entire team, I can stay in here tonight with you."

You leaned closer against her, more relieved at her saying she'd stay than you'd like to admit.

"But you have a big game tomorrow, and you need to rest. What can I do to get you to sleep?" she asked, knowing you were likely too anxious to be able to sleep right away. Again, you marveled at how well she knew you.

"Hmm," you said, scooting down the bed and rolling onto your stomach. Misa was looking at you adoringly, and you grabbed one of her hands, placing it on your back. She laughed in response, beginning to run her nails lightly up and down. You sighed happily, and she scooted down too, kissing just above your eyebrow, before resting her head on the pillow, continuing her motions. You were drifting off, but still, the thoughts of Vilda and what he'd said to you still bounced around in your head.

"Do you think he'll yell at me again?" you asked groggily, blinking your eyes open just enough to see the girl opposite you.

"No. I won't let him," she responded, sounding completely sure. You nodded, shutting your eyes again. You believed her, inexplicably. Her tone was so confident, and more than that, you trusted her. More than you'd ever trusted anyone before. You fell asleep easily, feeling completely protected with the strong girl next to you, watching as you drifted off.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso #mariona caldentey

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miedvma · 6 months

Text

MEDDLE ABOUT

l. williamson x awfc!r

summary: jealous leah but she’s just a softie really

sharing hotel rooms with daan has always meant being up for anything she would come up with at half-past eleven at night, including painting her nails orange— and, of course, she’d have to paint yours too.

“yeah, for the netherlands!” danielle immediately reasons, her choice of colour still causing a disappointed frown on your face. “cause, you know, oranje leeuwinnen—”

you scoff. “i know, daan! it’s just.. orange is, uh, too much, no? plus, we’re like mid-season now— we should paint it red, for arsenal.”

danielle’s speech is followed by her expressing nothing but displeasure towards your suggestion, arguing that she’s constantly repressed by both her girlfriend beth and your girlfriend leah’s patriotism, insisting that you should stand by your roomie and best friend, getting your nails painted orange to rebel against the proud englishwomen’s system.

there is very little to discuss: dedonk can be particularly persuasive when she wants to win an argument, and so you find yourself with no other option than to settle your hands over her crossed legs and hope that neon bright orange suits you.

—

“hi love” leah peeps as she places a lovingly peck on the side of your neck, sitting down next to you for breakfast.

despite your strict no pda at work rule, the defender can’t really bring herself to be any less affectionate towards the girl she loves the most— and you eventually gave in on that once mutual agreement.

“hi love” you mock her tone, earning a roll of eyes and a shoulder nudge. “hi babe.” you quickly correct yourself, a satisfied smile taking place on your girlfriend’s lips.

as the defender devours her characteristic ham sandwich, her curious sparkly eyes watch closely as you sink a silver spoon on your berries bowl— most noticeably, your hands; more accurately, the weird coloration your fingernails are washed in.

“did you get your nails done?” asks a pouty leah, instantly shoving you out of the conversation you’ve gotten in.

you leave viv and her remarks about the game you’re about to attend on hold and turn your girlfriend, “mmh, do you like them?”

she doesn’t seem to like it. in fact, leah hates it when you get your nails done by yourself and don’t do hers as well— but as this had never happened before, you don’t really have any way of knowing it.

“you got them done without me.” she pouts again, her voice bathing in gloom. “oh, i’m so sorry babes, i’ll get yours done soon as we get home, yeah?” you use your nose to caress her cheek, then her own nose, and then manage to place a millisecond long kiss to her lips— causing the blonde to run out of words, cheeks blushing at the sudden interaction.

nonetheless the flushed older girl’s emotions, it doesn’t take too long before she’s back at cherishing her thoughts on the game ahead of you, herself quite really excited to attend to her favourite london derby.

as the morning progresses and you finally step into the pitch, leah’s excitement seems to fade away. which is a little strange, since you are well aware that beating spurs is still one of her greatest pleasures— so it does turn out weird for her to start acting a bit off out of nowhere, right?

well, not exactly. unbeknownst to you, leah’s got a pretty good reason to keep her distance from you (or at least that’s what she tells herself)—

“leah come on, you’re warming up with me” beth chimed in, causing the other blonde to furrow her eyebrows. “thought you’d team up with daan?”

“yeah no she’s taking the piss cause i said her nails look weird” beth’s eyes rolled as the defender worked the situation out on her head.

unable to settle for the other girls’ silly argument, leah’s gaze perked around the pitch just until she could evidence danielle’s neon orange nail polish.

it hit her harder. you getting your nails done without her? bad. you getting your nails done without her, with daan instead? worse. way worse.

—

“i literally scored a winner and you’re not even going to gimme a kiss?” you pout to your girlfriend, the both of you about to head home in her still parked car.

leah isn’t one to play differently or give any less of herself to win, but as soon as the whistle blew, there was no way of hiding it: the green monster inside her hadn’t really gone away.

“there’s um.. people here,” your girlfriend replies, nonchalant. indeed, there are people around the parking lot— teammates and staffers, all of them knowing about your relationship. besides, it’s not like she had ever cared about being seen anyway.

“right.” you mock her tone, leah giving you a stern stare until she realizes she had done the exact same thing before.

leah drives surprisingly slow, contradicting her clenched jaw and bitten lips. her lack of physical and verbal interaction, particularly in such moments, is highly unusual— especially considering arsenal’s victory, largely because of you. it’s easy for you to sense her irritation, and that is why you don’t exchange any more words the whole way home.

as soon as your girlfriend pulls up to your house you swiftly jump out of the car, hastening your steps to leave the girl alone, hoping some time apart might heal whatever conflict she’s found herself in.

it doesn’t. long after you’ve completed your extended skincare routine (usually a joint activity but not a good idea at the minute) and changed into comfortable clothes (opting not to wear leah’s, just in case), the house remains terribly silent.

your bed is empty when you leave the ensuite bathroom. the corridors are silent, and a peek into the guest bedroom reveals it to be just as empty. stepping into the dining room, you finally spot leah’s still-intact ponytail.

her head hangs down, probably slouched on the sofa; the tv is off, hinting that she’s mindlessly scrolling on her phone. you allow yourself to swallow your pride and prepare sandwiches for both of you before walking towards her.

as you hand her a plate, a mumbled “thank you” is all you get— her eyes still avoid meeting yours, or even your hand.

your girlfriend lets out a sigh before picking up the telly remote and switching on some rubbish reality show in an attempt to dispel the palpable silence— prudent, but ultimately ineffective.

“is something wrong?” you ask, your voice soft as always. leah usually finds your natural tone charming, but this evening even that doesn’t seem to be enough for her to open up about her troubled emotions.

she replies with a simple “nah,” but the distance between you speaks volumes to the contrary: even though the sofa can easily accommodate up to five people, your girlfriend always ensures there’s not a single atom between the two of you.

frustrated by the girl’s nonchalance, you decide to test how far her grumpiness can go. you remove both your plates and place them on the coffee table, hoping she’d take the hint— but she doesn’t. not at all.

the blonde remains in her original position, spread out on the sofa, elbow on the armrest, supporting her head against her fist, eyes glued to the screen, oblivious to your approach.

it is normally up to her to initiate closeness, drawing you in or melding you both together— so the fact that you’re moving closer on your own should prompt her to react, but nothing really happens, so you audibly huff as you stand up to leave the room in nothing but defeat.

“you’re sleeping on that sofa tonight.”

her head shoots up to look at you in disbelief. “no i’m not!”

“oh yes, you are.”

the blonde’s eyes roll back almost instinctively, and you shoot her a sharp look. “hey, no fair! you get other girl’s nails done, and i’m the one who’s supposed to sleep on the sofa?” her voice sounds genuine, yet tinged with frustration— and here she is, leah, in her purest and most absolute form, feeling nothing but betrayed by not having her nails done by her girlfriend.

“oh my god lee, is that why you’re all grumpy?” leah’s eyes dart around the walls, as if pretending you hadn’t just guessed it right. “danielle is my friend, our friend, you know that..” you chuckle, settling down next to her again.

“i know but— it’s our thing! and i mean, you’re pretty and all but that orange is just not it.” the defender glances at you with that one nonchalant expression that always reveals her disappointment, and you can only look back in amusement. how could you ever tire of how adorable she sounds when she’s jealous?

“just so you know, i’m really offended by you saying i don’t suit orange. and i do forgive you for being an asshole today.”

leah folds her arms, her look at you not good— but you had guessed earlier that calling her an asshole might irk her more (she kind of deserves it anyway). “you should be the one apologizing for breaking our rules!” the blonde hisses, though she couldn’t seem more harmless.

either way, you’re never willing to argue with your loving girlfriend. especially when you’re seeking a reward for your hard work after a tough game.

“okay, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry i let danielle do my nails, and i’m sorry i did hers. can i get a kiss now?”

a wide smile brightens the older girl’s face as her hand reaches for your hip, guiding you to lie down on the sofa with her on top of you. as she leans in and you blindly reach for her shoulders, a breathy laugh tickles your face, causing your eyes to widen.

“soon as you take that ugly-ass colour off your pretty nails, babe,” the blonde suggests, thinking she’s hilarious as she pulls herself off the mess she’s already made of you.

you scowl and toss a pillow her way, but she simply shrugs it off, fixed on watching the trashiest show imaginable.

realizing you won’t get any favours from her unless you get rid of the questionable colour on your nails, you rise from the sofa and set off to find some nail polish remover. “want me to bring the red one so i can do yours?”

you spot a smirk forming on the lips of the girl lazily lounging on the sofa. “no need love, gonna save my hands for other kinds of activities now.”

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #awfc #engwnt

918 notes · View notes

smutstevington · 7 months

Text

Resensitized (part 2) | Eddie Munson x Reader

(Find part one here)

Summary: Oh, how the tables have turned. Your porn star roommate is getting a little distant and weird after your night together. But don't worry - his attempts at avoiding you won't last long.

Word Count: 6.4K

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!! Smut (pwp), Pornstar!Eddie x Fem Reader, no use of y/n or defining characteristics, Eddie is a soft dom but has a kink for reader, grinding, pining, reader tempts Eddie and is kind of a BAMF, protected PIV sex, oral fem receiving, fingering, male self-gratification, hickies, communication/consent is sexy, things get very sweet at the end

A/N: Okay so you all loved part one and wanted more so...here we go! I tried to add what I saw requested - sub Eddie, some of his POV, the date, etc. By the way, I read ALL comments and tags, because they make me so happy. So, thank you to everyone who left feedback on part one and I hope this lives up to the hype?? xx

--------------------------------

Wait, did he just say-?

“What?” you asked, your eyes wide. His face fell.

“Uhh, shit.” He let out a breathy laugh, then jumped out of bed to put his clothes back on. “That was, uh - I don’t know why I said that.”

As you watched him hurriedly step into his boxers, face flushed and hair a mess, you couldn’t help but notice that you’d never seen him flustered like this before. Sure, during sex, his usual composure was blown to bits by the end, but this was different.

You’d heard about the concept of “post-nut clarity” before- men who think something is a good idea when they’re horny, then immediately regret it after the fact. But you weren’t offended by Eddie’s nerves, because you knew this wasn’t him regretting that he’d had sex with you.

It was him freaking out because he enjoyed it.

Let’s be real - successfully getting Eddie to bust after he’d insisted he wouldn’t be able to made you feel like a goddess. So, instead of feeling rejected or vulnerable, you were riding high.

“You probably said it because you want to go on a date with me,” you teased, sitting up in the bed and swinging your legs over the edge.

Eddie looked at you, but he didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes traveled to your breasts, lingered for a moment, then widened.

“Oh, shit,” he said.

“What?”

He pointed at your chest, and when you looked down you saw several dark splotches on your skin. You chuckled.

“Well,” you responded with a sigh. “I think it was worth it. Any on my neck?”

“No! I was careful,” he replied. You eyed him accusingly. “I just got carried away at the end, there.” You smirked at each other, and you realized that despite the fact you’d had sex, the dynamic between you both hadn’t really changed. Not as much as you thought it would have, anyway.

“Well, luckily I stayed true to my word,” you replied, gesturing at his unblemished neck. He checked himself in your mirror to confirm, then nodded, impressed. You grabbed your robe from the floor and wrapped it around yourself, tying it until it was snug, then unintentionally began ogling the way his jeans hung low on his hips, his buttons and belt still undone.

“You see something you like, roomie?” he teased with a smirk. “My eyes are up here, you know.”

Your gaze snapped up to meet his as you bit your lip, guilty.

“Sorry, you’re hot,” you responded.

“And you’re drooling.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Eddie took a step forward to close the gap between you, then dragged the pad of his thumb across the skin just below the corner of your mouth. Once again, you were mesmerized by him, your lips parting at his touch. After his thumb finished traveling along the curve of your bottom lip, his hand found a home against your cheek.

“Eddie,” you said softly. “I would go on a date with you.”

His expression went through a series of small shifts - surprise, amusement, joy - then landed on cockiness, his lips pursed and brow raised.

“Good to know,” he replied. “We’ll, uh - We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, yeah?”

You were feeling incredibly sleepy, so you didn’t fight his avoidance of the subject. Besides, you lived together - you were bound to finish the conversation eventually.

“Okay,” you replied. “Night, Eddie.” He dropped his hand from your face, and you immediately shuddered at its absence

“Night, roomie.”

He didn’t kiss you, even though you very much wanted him to. You wanted him, in all capacities. As a roommate. As a friend. As more than that. You couldn’t quite comprehend it all in your tired state, though, so you let him leave. You heard his footsteps trail off down the hall, and you swore you heard a hesitation before his bedroom door creaked closed behind him.

Fuuuuuuuucking hell.

Eddie wasn’t supposed to feel like this. This wasn’t how he did things. He didn’t like this.

Eddie closed his bedroom door and wished he hadn’t. He wished he’d instead stayed in your room and held you while you fell asleep and maybe fucked you a few more times because oh my god????

That was amazing. So amazing he’d nearly forgotten how the whole thing started.

He’d told you it wouldn’t mean anything. He’d told you that it wasn’t a big deal. That it was simply transactional and nothing else.

He stayed there with his back against the door, breathing rapidly, hearing you walk down the hall and hoping you were coming to him. Instead, you went to the bathroom. He heard the toilet flush, then the sink running, then the sound of you brushing your teeth.

You lived together. You were friends who signed a lease and who got along and had a good thing going and Eddie felt like he screwed it all up.

He clutched his chest and let it rise and fall against his hand, his heart pounding beneath his ribs.

Just calm down, idiot. You’re acting crazy.

He’d grown to care about you quite a bit since you’d moved in together. He loved any time schedules lined up and you got to spend time together. He loved joking around with you, and the way you let him be completely himself with no judgment. He loved how nervous you were around him after you watched his videos for the first time. That was probably his first clue that he kind of maybe liked you as more than a friend or a roommate. His second clue was less of a clue and more of a neon sign.

Sex hadn’t meant anything to Eddie in a long time. Now it meant everything.

Unsurprisingly, you slept better that night than you had in months. You woke up with the sun streaming in through the windows, fresh as a daisy.

You loved this apartment. You loved your room. You loved your roommate.

You didn’t love him like that. Actually, maybe you did. Or maybe he was just so good at sex you were getting your feelings confused.

It was still early - Eddie would probably be asleep for a few more hours. It’s one of the reasons why you didn’t see each other much - you woke up early, made breakfast, then left to work or run errands, and he slept in until the early afternoon, worked or rehearsed with his band, then stayed up late practicing guitar or playing video games with online friends in his room.

You walked into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee ready, then made yourself a bowl of cereal. You checked your phone to see that your horrible Tinder date had messaged you again.

Had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you wanna do it again?

Hmm. What was the classiest and least hurtful way to say, absolutely the fuck not??

To be honest, you’d forgotten him already, even though it had only been about twelve hours since you’d hooked up. He was entirely irrelevant, now. Every other partner you’d ever had paled in comparison to Eddie. That was just a fact.

Then, you realized you’d never told your friend what happened. You had passed out so immediately you hadn’t had the chance.

HEY GUESS WHAT

WHAT

I FUCKED MY ROOMMATE

Naturally, she called you pretty much immediately.

“Tell me everything, spare no details,” she greeted. You looked down the hall to see Eddie’s door still closed.

“I don’t want him to hear me,” you told her.

“Wait, are you still in bed? Did this happen just now?”

“No, it was last night,” you answered, holding your phone to your ear with your shoulder so you could carry your coffee and cereal to your room. You closed the door with your foot and set everything on your desk, then sat down with a sigh. “It was the best sex I’ve ever had, no contest.”

“I’m sooooo jealous,” your friend replied. You laughed. “So, how did it start?” You sipped your coffee and leaned back in your chair, happy to recount the memory.

“Well, I - that guy from Tinder came over, and it ended up being extremely underwhelming, and Eddie picked up on it because - um, anyway, he wanted to help me out, I guess?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for so long, you wondered if the call dropped.

“I have so many questions,” she finally said. “Why did he pick up on it?”

“He heard my fake noises through the wall,” you answered.

“He was listening?” she asked, a flirtatiously quality to my voice.

“Said he was curious.”

“Hmmmm.” You already knew what your friend was thinking. “And then he wanted to prove he was better than Tinder boy.”

“Yes.” She waited for you to continue, so you did. “He was all about communicating and doing exactly what I wanted him to do.”

“Hot,” she responded. “Did you - I mean, did he get you to - you know?”

“Yup,” you replied. “Four times.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Oh my God!”

“I know!!”

You realized that you were raising your voice, and you didn’t want to wake Eddie through the thin walls, so you calmed yourself down.

“So, what happens now?” your friend asked. “You’re going to hook up again, right? You have to. Do it for me, if nothing else.”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t just be for you,” you replied. “And I think we will. I mean, I know we will, but - well, he kind of asked me on a date after.”

“He WHAT?!”

“I was confused too!” you told her. “We’re going to talk about it more today.”

“You absolutely have to go on that date,” she said.

“Duh.” You laughed, but were interrupted by a light knock on your door. You brought your voice to a whisper. “Shit, he’s at the door. Talk to you soon.”

You put your phone down on the desk, took a deep breath and walked to the door, then opened it.

Eddie was fiddling with his rings, one corner of his mouth raised into a smile.

“You’re up early,” you noted.

“You were yelling,” he explained, his smile turning into a smirk.

“That was not yelling,” you replied. “God, these walls are too thin.”

“That is how we got into this whole mess, isn’t it?” he teased, walking into your room and looking around as if it had changed since the night before.

“It’s a mess?” you asked. He turned around and shrugged.

“I was up all night thinking about it,” he began. “I just - it’s not a good idea - you and me starting something, I mean. It won't end well.” You laughed and rolled your eyes. “What?”

“You were the one who asked!” you pointed out. “Way to dangle the carrot in front of my face and pull it away.” He ran his hand through his hair and smiled, bashful.

“There’s a joke in there somewhere where the carrot is my dick.” You rolled your eyes again.

“God, Munson, get your head out of the gutter for once,” you told him. “If it’s a bad idea, why did you ask me in the first place?”

He looked down at you, and you realized that he was wrong. It had changed things, because he’d never looked at you like this before. In an instant, he snapped out of it - clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Look, I like you. I like living with you. And you’re kinda my closest friend right now.”

“I thought you were used to fucking your friends, though,” you countered, referencing a statement he’d made in what felt like eons ago.

“I was,” he responded.

Two words, and yet he’d said everything he’d needed to say for you to understand the rest of his thought - I was that way, but I guess I’m not anymore. Not with you.

Well, fuck. He had a point, as much as you hated it. Hooking up with your roommate was a recipe for disaster, usually. It was why you’d resisted the idea for as long as you had.

“Okay,” you sighed. “So, I’m your closest friend, and you don’t want to mess with that.”

“Exactly,” he agreed. You both stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to go from there. Finally, he puffed out his cheeks and exhaled deeply. “I’m gonna go smoke.” You crumpled your face in disgust.

“Cigarettes are a bad habit,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’ve got an oral fixation,” he replied.

“Oh, I know.”

He was stunned for a moment, and then you caught him fighting a smile. His tongue grazed across his upper teeth, and then he nodded.

“I guess you would,” he responded at last. He went to leave, but paused with one hand grasping the door frame and the other giving you a halfhearted salute. “Catch ya later, roomie.”

Then, he was gone. The conversation didn’t go at all the way you’d wanted it to, but whatever. It was for the best, probably. When you returned to your desk, you saw that your friend had never hung up. You brought the phone to your ear and shook your head.

“You’re too nosy for your own good,” you told her.

“He likes you,” she said.

“Yeah, but you heard him,” you continued. “It’s not happening.”

“Bullshit,” she argued. “That man is obsessed with you. You’ve totally got him hooked, but he’s pushing you away because he’s scared. It’s a tale as old as time, babe. You live together. Any attempts he has at getting over you are doomed to fail.” You laughed, then resumed eating.

“I don’t want to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you said.

“You’re not,” she assured you. “You’re reminding him that he should do the thing he very much wants to do.”

“Maybe.”

“Please,” she begged. “For me. Otherwise I’ll just hear you pine about it some more, and it’s entirely avoidable.”

“Fine,” you agreed. She squealed into the phone.

“Yay!” You smiled against your coffee mug, then realized you’d actually taken one of Eddie’s this morning. “As always, keep me posted.”

“I will.”

She was probably right. Okay, she was right. Relationships and dating were things you had long given up on, ever since your horrific breakup. But one thing you knew about yourself was that, once you found someone you liked, you weren’t able to just…stop thinking about them.

So, you decided to be a little sneaky. You wouldn’t do anything crazy, you’d just give him a few reminders on what he was missing out on. He liked you, and you liked him, and you knew with 100% certainty that you could get him to break.

You had this in the bag.

Eddie was losing his mind.

For a few weeks, everything went back to normal. You were extremely level-headed, and things were how they’d always been between you. As if that one night had never happened. Which, granted, is exactly what he’d asked for, but he didn’t like it.

He thought about you all the time. He lingered in the kitchen and kept his door open on the off chance that you’d want to talk to him. He felt like a goddamn fucking idiot, honestly. It wasn’t even about the sex, he just wanted to be around you. He wanted to make you laugh. He wanted to make you blush.

But, more often than not, you were doing those things to him instead of the other way around.

He would walk into the kitchen and see you wearing an oversized t-shirt and no pants, reaching for something on the top shelf enough for the shirt to lift and reveal your cotton panties. He’d try not to stare, but he would anyway, and he’d fight the urge to fall to his knees and sink his teeth into your skin.

He wanted to literally bite you on the ass. What the actual fuck was that about.

You’d sense his presence and look over your shoulder to confirm your suspicions, then smirk.

“Good morning,” you’d say.

“Morning,” he’d respond, already fighting a hard-on.

And you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew that it killed him every time you asked him to zip up your dress. You knew it made him blush when you’d come home on hot summer days and walk around in a sports bra and shorts. You knew his heart skipped whenever your playful banter turned flirtatious. You knew why his eyes focused on the edge of your coffee mug after you took a sip - because your lips had just been there. You had to know.

And then, one fateful night, he dreamt of you.

He was at work, except you were the only other person there. He was confused at first, but then you told him that you were the one he was paired with that day. He nodded, but it felt different than all the other times he’d been told the same thing about other people. He took his shirt and pants off and tried to touch you, but you backed away, tutting and waving your finger at him.

“Not this time,” you said. “I don’t want you to do anything unless I tell you to. Lie down.”

So, he did. He swallowed and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you climbed on top of him and rocked yourself against him. You were moaning, your eyes closed and lips parted. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, but you weren’t going to let him. You kept your hand on his chest, holding him down, biting your lip.

“Can I -?”

“Shh,” you cooed, focused on what you were doing. “Don’t talk.”

His cock stiffened as you continued to grind on it, and the feeling was indescribable. Your motions picked up, your hips rocking faster and faster, your moaning turning higher pitched and less controlled.

He watched you - beautiful, sexy, incredible you - and felt the familiar feelings of his own orgasm building within him. Any moment now and he would -

“Fuck!” you cried out, your composure fully unraveling and your movements stuttering. He spilled onto his stomach immediately, feeling the warmth of that and himself and you all around him. You crashed down onto the bed, still breathing heavily, and pulled him into you.

“Thank you,” you said, placing a quick kiss on his cheek.

Suddenly, he jolted awake in his bed, eyes wide.

He was sweating a little bit, but thankfully hadn’t jizzed in his boxers. He was grateful to keep up his streak of no wet dreams since his teenage years, especially since he shared a bathroom and washer/dryer with you. That would have been mortifying.

Seriously. What the fuck were you doing to him???

He decided he needed yet another cold shower - he’d been taking a lot of them recently. One would think that him still having sex with other people through all of this would have helped his situation, but it was actually quite the opposite. He didn’t want them, he wanted you. Besides, the sex he was having was for work. He did try once to hook up with one of the other actors after hours, but even that didn’t curb his desire for you in the slightest.

He probably should have anticipated running into you on his way to the bathroom, considering you lived together and all, but somehow it took him by surprise.

“Hello,” you called to him casually from the kitchen.

“Uh, hi,” he said, awkwardly standing in the hallway. He saw you sitting there, fully clothed and doing literally nothing remotely sexy, but he blushed anyway as if you were.

“If you’re about to shower, just know there’s something wrong with the water heater,” you informed him.

“That’s okay,” he replied, perhaps too quickly. “I, uh - I don’t mind.” You put your phone down and looked in his direction, suspicious.

“Okay, weirdo,” you teased. “Anyway, I tried to talk to the landlord but I think he likes you better, so -”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll give him a call,” Eddie said. He pointed at the bathroom awkwardly and nodded. “I’m gonna - uh - yeah.”

Way to go, idiot. She totally knows something is going on with you.

He couldn’t worry about that yet, though. By the time he shut the bathroom door, his dick was so hard he had no choice but to deal with it. He hadn’t been this out of control horny since he was going through puberty. His face was red and his bottom lip was chapped from biting it so much. He stifled his grunts and groans to the best of his abilities, leaving the water running to mask the sound of him jerking off.

It didn’t take long. It never did when he was thinking about you.

The shower was in fact cold, but he was too busy trying to figure out what he was gonna do to notice the temperature that much. He didn’t come up with anything by the time he was finished washing up, or even after drying himself off. He put a pair of pants on and opened the door, just to jump at the sight of you waiting for him by his room.

“You’re being weird,” you told him.

Yeah. There was no denying that fact.

“I know.” You continued, taking a step closer to him.

“You’re acting like I did when -”

“I know.” You eyed him with a smirk, then gestured for him to follow you to the kitchen. He did so blindly, even though he wasn’t sure why you needed a location change. Honestly, he would have followed you anywhere.

“Okay, let’s talk about it,” you said, drying off the last of the dishes beside the sink. Ah. So that’s why you needed to be in the kitchen. “Did something happen? Did you find one of my videos?”

“Do you have any?” Eddie asked. He didn’t mean for it to sound desperate. He honestly was curious. But, combined with everything else, that’s how it came off.

“No,” you answered. “Not yet, anyway. So, spill. What happened?” Eddie took a deep breath and leaned with his back to the counter beside you.

“I had a sex dream about you.” You burst out laughing, your eyes squinting so much he could see the crinkles around them. He smiled, joining in with your laughter. “Don’t laugh at me!” You calmed yourself down and shook your head.

“It’s cute! That’s all,” you said. “We’ve all been there, Eds. Was this last night?” He nodded. “First one?” He nodded again. “But you’ve been acting weird around me a lot lately.”

“Woah there, detective,” Eddie replied, his hands up in defense. “What’s with the interrogation?”

“You told me I could ask you anything,” you responded. Eddie groaned, realizing he had in fact said that. Fuck. “Does the dream have something to do with the moaning that was coming from the bathroom just now?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. Fuck these paper-thin walls. This was worse than the time he popped a boner in math class. You stared back at him, smug, and he narrowed his eyes at you. Making people flustered like this was his move, dammit.

“So, what if it was?” he asked with a shrug. You rolled your eyes.

“Just admit that you have a crush on me.” Eddie couldn’t believe how bold you were being. Once again, that was traditionally his move. The tables were turning, and it made his heart race in a way he hadn’t experienced before. Your eyebrows furrowed at his silence. “Um, sorry. Maybe I had this all wrong -”

“I absolutely, 100% have a crush on you,” Eddie answered. “That’s not a secret though. I’ve been down bad since we - I mean, you know. And it’s fucking annoying. I feel like an idiot for telling you I didn’t want to go out with you. I thought that repressing it was for the best, and maybe it is, but at this point I reeeeally don’t think I can hold out much longer. No help from you and your refusal to wear pants around here anymore, by the way. It’s like you’re trying to rile me up.”

You looked down at your oversized sweater and exposed legs, then smiled.

“That’s exactly what I was trying to do,” you admitted. “I’m glad it worked.”

“That’s mean,” he replied, smirking. “You’re mean.”

“Yeah, but you have a crush on me, sooooo….” He chuckled, then shoved you playfully against the arm.

“Yeah, whatever,” he responded. “Congratulations, roomie - you’ve ruined me. Let’s go on a fucking date.” You smiled, big and bright, then bit your lip. Eddie realized he’d do anything to make you smile like that any chance he got.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

You settled on going out to dinner. Nothing groundbreaking, but a date’s a date. Eddie originally suggested going to the arcade and playing laser tag, but you told him that was more of a third date kind of thing.

Secretly, you both already knew that a third date would happen, so you didn’t stress the first. It was all a formality, anyway. A symbol instead of a step. Like, you already were close friends who lived together, and you’d already had sex. So it felt like you were going in reverse more than anything.

At least that’s how you thought it would feel. Instead, it felt perfectly natural - as if this was a normal situation that went in a normal order. You laughed, you people-watched, you flirted, and all was well.

“Your place or mine?” he teased after he’d paid the check.

“Mine,” you answered. “I don’t have sex on the first date, Edward.” Eddie snickered.

“Bullshit,” he replied. You smirked, then got your purse as you both stood up from the table. He took your hand to walk you out of the restaurant, and neither of you even really noticed you’d never done that before.

“I’m serious, actually,” you responded. “I mean, I used to be that way. Before I moved here and had that one night stand.”

“That godawful one night stand,” he reminded you. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well it led to us hooking up, so at least something good came from it.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said with a grin. “Four times, if I recall correctly?” You blushed, biting your lip at the memory.

“Has anyone ever told you how humble you are?” you joked. He laughed, nudging his shoulder into yours.

“Not once,” he responded.

It was a quick drive home, and conversation continued to flow easily. You were talking about some movie you’d both seen as a kid when you walked through your front door, and you’d nearly forgotten that you had just come from a date. None of it felt new, somehow.

“Well, I’d say that was pretty successful,” you said once there had been long enough of a silence. You went to grab yourself a glass of water at the sink, when Eddie said something behind you that sent a chill down your spine.

“Do I get to kiss you goodnight?”

You spun around to face him, then nodded. He closed the gap between you and put a hand at the small of your back, then laid his other hand against your cheek, his fingers wrapping around to the back of your neck. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours - slowly, gently, respectfully.

The moment you kissed back, his composure broke. He breathed you in, parting his lips to deepen the kiss, tightening his grip on you. Your arms went over his shoulders so you could be even closer to him. His tongue grazed your lower lip, then dove past it to lick the roof of your mouth. You moaned unintentionally, then broke from him just enough to speak.

“Woah,” you said, your head spinning.

“Sorry,” he replied, putting his forehead against yours. “Too much?”

“Not at all,” you answered. “How long have you wanted to do that?”

“Too long,” he responded, breathlessly. “Too goddamn long.” You gave him another peck on the lips, then cherished the way he chased you when you didn’t go back in for more.

“You want me again?” you asked him, softly. He nodded.

“Yes.”

“Now?” you asked, as if you didn’t already know the answer. You could already feel him stiffening against you.

“Always.”

Within moments, his lips were on yours. His hands quickly tangled in your hair and pulled you deeper into him, your bodies flush with one another. He walked you backward until your ass hit the kitchen counter, then wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and lifted you up so you were seated. His hands abandoned the small of your back and went to your thighs, spreading them apart so he could stand between them. All the while he kissed you and touched you and and breathed into you.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said. He was so close to your skin, you could feel the vibrations of his words. “Please let me make you feel good again.”

He nipped at your earlobe, causing you to shudder. Your eyes flashed up to the ceiling, all other thoughts fading away.

“You are,” you responded breathlessly. “You do.”

The confirmation seemed to only motivate him even more. His fingers began trailing up your skirt as he dropped to the floor, a frenzied desire in his eyes.

Ohhh lord. Seeing him on his knees for you turned you on more than you could have ever anticipated.

“Please,” he begged, placing a quick kiss on your thigh. While it was tempting, you didn’t really want to have sex in the place where you prepared food.

“Yes,” you permitted. “But not here.”

“Why not?” he whined. “I eat here all the time.” You kicked him playfully, rolling your eyes.

“That’s gross,” you said. He stood up, grinned, and held his hand out for you to take.

“Tell me it’s gross in two minutes when I have you screaming my name again.” Your breath hitched as you took his hand and followed him to your room - you might have gone to his room instead this time, had it not been ten feet further away. You didn’t want to waste a single moment.

“You’re dangerous, Eddie Munson.”

“That’s what they tell me,” he replied with a smirk. “Now, take off your clothes and pick a number.” You were confused, but did as told anyway.

“Uhh, 7?” you said as you lifted your dress over your head. His eyes bore into the newly revealed parts of you - your stomach and chest and legs.

“Pssh, easy,” he said, his gaze still fixed to you. “Let’s get this out of the way, too.” His arms went around you to unfasten your bra.

“What’s the number mean?” you wondered, shivering at his touch. Your bra fell to the floor beside your feet.

“Oh, it’s the number of times I’m gonna make you come,” he replied casually. Your eyes widened.

“What?!” In an instant, his hands groped at your breasts while his lips went back to your neck. “Eddie, I - mf,” you murmured, already succumbing to his influence. “What if I’d chosen a higher number?” Eddie broke away from your neck to look into your eyes with a smirk. You jolted when his thumb and forefinger flicked across your nipple.

“Then we would have to be here for a while,” he said. “Do you wanna change your answer?”

You stared at him, dumbly, unable to comprehend how you’d found yourself in a situation this perfect.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you replied.

So, he did. One hand grabbed and pulled at your hair while he kissed you passionately. Then, he kissed down your jaw, to your collarbone, between your breasts, on your stomach. He left a trail of fire all the way down to your panties, your core already throbbing for him. Once he was back on his knees, he yanked your underwear down to your ankles and lifted one of your feet so you could spread your legs apart.

His mouth was on you in seconds. No time for teasing. As he licked up your slit, you searched for something to hold onto. The only thing around was him, so you grabbed a hold for dear life, gripping a fistful of his hair. He groaned in pleasure as he tasted you, and you felt your knees buckling. He slipped a finger into you as his tongue swirled circles around your clit. He pulsed in and out of you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. You felt yourself cresting over the edge as your fingers tangled in his hair, and before you knew it you were losing your balance and falling to your knees across from him. While his head had separated from you, his finger remained buried inside you, undulating against your g-spot.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” you muttered. You could tell that your first orgasm was just prefacing your second. “Don’t stop.” You shifted yourself until you could lie on your back against the floor. Eddie threw one of your legs over his shoulder and continued eating you out as he fingered you. Your hips grinded against him of their own accord as you moaned and squirmed beneath him.

And then you felt that tightening deep in your stomach - just as you’d suspected - and all of a sudden you were shaking and exploding with pleasure, tears springing to your eyes.

“Fuck!” you shouted, quickly slapping your hands over your mouth to keep quiet. Eddie used his free hand to tug your arms away from your face, tutting in disapproval.

“Don’t censor yourself, sweets,” he cooed. “I want to hear you scream.” He added another finger inside you, stretching you out. You gasped in delight. “I’ve wanted to hear it ever since that first night,” he continued. He kept his hands on you but crawled forward so his mouth could reach your breasts. He kissed one, gently. “I was hearing that pitiful excuse for sex through the walls and all I could think about was how I could fuck you better, and how you’d sound when you weren’t faking it.” He sucked right beside the last remaining hickey from the first time he’d done this. Your back arched, your heart beating so fast you were practically vibrating.

“Eddie,” you moaned. “I need you inside me right now.”

“I am inside you,” he said, flexing his fingers in a way that made your hips roll against his hand. You shook your head and reached down to his jeans, grabbing his cock and running your hand up the shaft. He stiffened, his eyes closing and motions stuttering.

“This,” you clarified, tightening your grip. “I need this.” He groaned, then nodded.

“Fuuuuuuck, okay,” he said. He pulled his fingers out of you, licked them clean, stood up, pulled you up, then started stripping as you got a condom from your bedside table. By the time you’d retrieved it and turned around, he was fully naked and waiting eagerly to put it on. He ripped the foil open with his teeth and rolled it over his length, then sat you on the edge of the bed and lined himself up with your entrance. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, his eyes dark and pupils blown out. With a final nod of your permission, he thrust himself inside you all at once.

You whimpered, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him completely filling you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels crossed under his ass. He pushed himself in and out of you, guided by your feet, falling into a steady rhythm. You bit at his shoulder and neck, drawing groans of pleasure from his lips. You could feel his body getting warmer to the touch, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. You leaned back and laid down fully on the bed, and he quickly followed you. You both crawled further onto the bed until his body was stretched out and hovering over yours. You tightened your legs around him again and threw your head back, enjoying the way he continued pumping himself in and out of you.

“Tell me that nobody else fucks you like I do,” he said in a husky tone. Your eyes were closed to keep yourself from being entirely overstimulated.

“N-nobody,” you stuttered. “Nobody fucks me like you.”

Suddenly, he was kissing you, and you were kissing him back, and he was fucking you, and you were rocking your hips against him, and his thumb rubbed at your clit, and you were coming again, and he was coming with you. Your mouths were open against each other, gasping and shaking, and then your eyes opened.

He was looking at you, really looking. As you returned his gaze, you got lost in it all. His hips stalled with his cock buried deep in you, but neither of you dared to move. You just kept looking into each other's eyes, breathing deeply, and that’s when you realized that one of your hands was interlocked with his. You kissed him again, slowly and leisurely, before sucking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting it. He moaned softly, appreciatively, then sighed.

“I lied before, about having a crush on you,” he said. You raised your eyebrows, mind still reeling from the sex.

“Oh?”

“I think it might be more than that,” he explained. “I mean, it is more than that.” Your eyes widened.

“Oh.” He waited for you to respond. “Just - give me a minute. I’m still in outer space.” He flashed a small, crooked smile, then pulled out of you slowly. After he settled back into bed, you instinctively curled up next to him, which he happily accepted.

This was nice. This was better than nice. This was perfect.

“I know that because of my work -”

“It’s more than that for me, too,” you interrupted. You angled your head to look up at him.

“Yeah?” he asked. You nodded.

“And I don’t know how I’m gonna feel about dating someone who has sex with other people at work,” you continued. “But right now, I don’t care. Usually, I’d be jealous, but - but I’m not.”

“You really wanna give this a shot?” he wondered, desperately trying to hide his excitement. You nodded again, smiling.

“I don’t think we have much choice,” you replied.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie said, grinning from ear to ear. “Let’s do this, then.”

You kissed him on the cheek, then went back to cuddling up to his chest. He hummed, content.

He was pretty sure he loved you, but that was for another night. This night would be spent making you come another four times, as promised.

Eddie was always true to his word.

(Next part)

------------------------------

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fuckmyskywalker · 8 months

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🕯️🧺 w anakin? plz? 🥺❤️

Prompt: 🕯️ "You weren’t supposed to hear that.” | 🧺 Stepcest. — Anakin Skywalker.

CW: 18+, smut!. stepcest, dub-con/non-con (reader is drunk and under other substances, they don't explicitly say yes but they don't say no either so). Anakin is quite violent in here, and mean, and a bitch. Dirty talk, Oral sex (m), struggling with feelings, Anakin is an idiot tbh but he is my filthy, pervert idiot. | Word count: 2.9k (...somebody kill me.)

a/n: This is so disgustingly delicious I couldn't help myself, sorry. It was supposed to be a short drabble but ended up being almost 3k of pure filth.

His feet tap the rug of the living room anxiously; Anakin knows he should stay away from all this, lock himself in his bedroom, and jack off before bed.

But as usual, his thoughts are even more complicated than that, he is caught between a situation that he isn’t sure has a positive outcome or even one for that matter. It’s the same conflict he has been going through ever since his wonderful mother had the great idea to marry your awesome dad who treated her as she deserved and welcomed Anakin as his son. But that wasn’t the problem.

It was you.

Anakin wanted you, so bad it burned his skin and chained his heart to a cold wall of self-restraint. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept repeating to himself every night he heard you in the adjacent room, moaning softly under your own caresses and all he could do was rub his uncomfortable erection to at least ease some of the yearning. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept whispering in the shower, closing his eyes to not see his hands squeezing your bottle of shampoo and consuming his sanity in the sweet scent of strawberry shortcake, relishing in the calmness your characteristic smell brings him. This is wrong, or at least that’s what he kept saying in the solitude of the obscure living room, waiting for you to come back from whatever fucking party you decided to sneak out that night.

It was easier to mask his desires and sinful lusts for you under a coat of anger. Always snapping at you, yelling, pushing you away. Anakin found that nasty attitude as an effective coping mechanism. For a while. You suddenly stopped talking to him, searching for his friendship or a simple common ground so you two could be in the same room without screaming and throwing insults at each other until either his mother or your father had to step in.

Neither of them tried to interfere unless things got heavily verbal and one time, physical. They both concluded it was only the edge of getting used to this new dynamic. You and Anakin just need more time to grow accustomed to each other’s presence, that’s it. Plus, Shmi didn’t feel entitled to scold you, and your father was never good at dealing with “women’s emotions”.

Deep down, Anakin was feeling guilty, and he, much like your father, wasn't good at dealing with others’ emotions, less alone his. He never tried to apologize either, which perhaps was why he was doing this. Aside from that repetitive statement of “this is wrong”, he tries to swallow his guilt and add to the mix a hint of “this is how I show my worry for her”. Which, if being brutally honest, was a pretty shitty way of doing so. Glancing at the digital clock on the fireplace, his anxious tapping gets stronger, it is almost 3:30 am. He hesitates, should he call you? Would you even pick up the phone? Should he just drop this whole act off and go to bed? Anakin feels too tired to even masturbate, or too angry, it doesn’t matter. The thoughts and “what ifs” begin to drown him, and if there is something that the unstable bastard is, is an overthinker.

As luck would have it, his head snaps up when he hears the front door click open softly, followed by a muffled giggle. He stands up slowly, careful not to make a single noise. Are you alone? He hopes you are. The idea of seeing you with someone else twists his stomach with jealousy, quickly followed by that familiar wave of guilt. He has no right over you, that is a fact, and yet he forces himself to look over it, using the poor, sick excuse of being your stepbrother to worry about you; Even if his worry is translated into being a bitch, spying your every movement, and fucking his fist to the thought of you.

He sees you stumbling through the front door, clicking the latch with what appears to be shaky fingers. Anakin remains silent as he scoots closer to you, resting on the frame of the arch that leads from the living room to the hallway that connects with the front door and the kitchen. You fail to notice his presence, too busy struggling to keep both feet on the floor as your heels hang from your right hand and your purse on your left. The tiniest bit of relief travels through his veins, at least you are alone. You walk past Anakin, but he doesn’t let you wander more than three steps.

“Had a fun time? He asks in a sarcastic, dry tone. Cold blue eyes scan you up and down unashamedly, taking notice of how revealing and tight your outfit looks.

With a loud gasp you turn around in a split second, your eyes widen and your mouth contorts into an expression of shock and drunken panic, Anakin predicts your scream and sprints towards you clasping a hand over your mouth and pushing you against the nearest wall. If he was upset before now he is fuming. “Shut the fuck up” He whispers against your face, his hot breath fanning over your nose. Up close Anakin notices how your eyes are droopy, puffy, and red. “If you wake them up I won’t save your ass”

You try to push him away but to no avail, Anakin is stronger than you, and your drunken state completely eats up your stability. Your head shakes side to side trying to remove his hand from your mouth but it only makes him push it harder until your lips begin to feel numb. “Where were you?” He asks, towering right in front of you in a frightening yet… arousing way. “And what the fuck is that outfit?”

It’s rather ironic how your stepbrother keeps interrogating you but also takes away your ability to talk— You let go of your heels that fall to the wood floor with a muted sound, trying to push him away with your palm against his chest.

Which apparently infuriates Anakin further. “Keep your hands off me, who knows where they’ve been” He hisses and slaps your hand away and pins it to your side with frustrated force. “Were you with someone?” Anakin hisses, so close to your face you can see how deep his eyes are. You never recall they were such a pretty shade of blue.

You shake your head at his last question, the only verbal indication you can give. His shoulders seem to relax the tiniest bit just to return to his usual tense shape. “Don’t fucking lie to me” He warns you and spits your name in a venomous way that should hurt your feelings and bring tears to your eyes. You shake your head again this time more desperately, this is the closest he had ever been to you ever since your father married his mother and it’s borderline scary. “You smell like a damn distillery, fucking disgusting”

Instead of pushing him again, you raise your knee to hit his hip, your goal was his crotch but you missed by a lot. Anakin grunts in pain and lets go of your mouth for a second letting you take a heavy, desperate breath. Your body feels dizzy and sweaty and it’s all because of him. The altercation only lasts a few seconds and you don’t even reach the first stair before Anakin yanks your hair and slams your body back to a wall.

“Let go of me—” You whine with little conviction. “Get the fuck off Anakin I—” Your voice isn’t a plea, it’s an irritated complaint that makes you focus on everything else besides the burning ache that is beginning to form in between your legs at the tussle between your stepsibling. You expect his hand to clasp over your mouth again and the little self-consciousness left in your mind decides to bite his palm if he does so—

But instead, his lips crash over yours messily, punching all the air from your lungs. Your body reacts faster than your mind and the first thought that swirls in your hazed head is: His tongue tastes like heaven. Anakin quietly grunts at the strong flavor of liqueur and cheap cigarettes that fills his senses, pushing his hips forward basically rubbing his half-hard cock against your hip. Using his grip on your hair he yanks your head upwards so his lips can attack your jaw and neck, rapt in your heavy panting. Anakin’s knee finds a comfortable spot between your thighs, rubbing the sharp bone over against your needy core. Your body jolts slightly and you mewl into the cold air of the staircase hallway. You want to touch him, run your hands through his hair, cup his beautiful face, embrace this sick, prohibited feeling— but the emotional grip he was on you is doing its job. You can’t seem to find the strength to move a single muscle, melting into a wordless puddle for the person who you were supposed to hate.

Anakin’s knee picks up an acceptable pace forcing you to move your hips involuntarily to relieve some of the ache. You couldn’t remember when was the last time you were this wet, and even if you wanted to— it would’ve been impossible. He leaves wet, lewd kisses over your neck before sucking and biting your skin, ravishing you as if you were his prey, and perhaps you were. Anakin’s hand which isn’t gripping at your hair so hard your scalp is burning, squeezes your hip with the same brutal, appealing force.

“You don’t have any idea how bad I want you” Anakin breathes against your neck, his voice lingering with that dangerous edge, mixed with what appears to be compassion, but not for you, for himself.— or even emotion. “You get under my damn skin, you make me lose my damn mind” His white teeth are like a threat, sinking into every inch of skin available, marking you.

To care? You don’t have it in you. Probably not even if you were sober. Your mind struggles to come up with a reply, the ocean you are swimming in has everything except guilt, which was burning Anakin’s soul. “I know…” You whispered weakly, pushing your hips forwards and biting your lip to choke a moan at how good it felt to be humping your stepbrother’s knee. “I heard you jacking last month— you moaned my name” It was a miracle you could even build the sentence together, your voice was slurred and broken, but Anakin understood every word.

He curses under his breath, and the surprising sight of his flushed, red cheeks seems to break your drunk trance for a moment. Anakin hides his face in your shoulder, resting his forehead on the muscle. “You weren’t supposed to hear that” He mutters, it feels humiliating, but the simple act of unintentional humiliation makes his cock twitch inside his grey sweats.

“I did”

“Shut up”

“I liked it”

Anakin’s head snaps upwards, meeting your half-lidded eyes. He wants to believe you. The doubt flies around his head: He is not used to having what he wants— Why would you be the exception? Is this his chance to be greedy and take the only thing he has been craving for months now? Is this how Eve felt when the Devil offered her the forbidden fruit?

Are you his forbidden fruit?

Is this the way out from Eden?

It was too much.

Lowering his knee he glares at your discontented groan, placing both hands on your shoulders and forcing you to kneel. The intention is clear, and it doesn’t take you long to pick it up. Your shaky hands fumble with the little bow on his swears but Anakin just pushes them away, muttering something about ‘how stupidly drunk you are you can’t even do something for yourself’. What is also not a surprise, is the lack of underwear— but what it is— is his cock.

Your mouth waters at the sight of it, completely hard right in front of your face. Swallowing, you allow him to guide the tip to your open, awaiting mouth. The first touch is like touching heaven, or hell— Your warm tongue swirls over the sensitive head tasting the salty precum, wondering what could you do to be able to savor him again. Anakin places his large hand on the back of your head fighting the urge to push you all the way in. He is trying to be nice, at least a little. Although, it seems like you have other plans; He is bigger than other guys you’ve seen, not massive but certainly above average. Perhaps big enough that you can see the outline on your lower stomach if he fucks you. Sliding a couple more inches inside your wet mouth you roll your eyes at the way Anakin’s breath hitches and how his hips push forwards the slightest bit.

The wonderful weight of his cock on your tongue is hypnotizing, and you waste no time bobbing your head back and forth, sliding a bit more of his cock after a couple of minutes. Raising your eyes, you find Anakin staring directly at you, his blue irises dilated and almost glowing in a predatory manner.

His breathless chuckle catches you off guard. “You must be a slut if you suck cock this good.” It’s a double-edged compliment, either way, it feels good. You whine around his dick making him hiss in pleasure, biting his lower lip to keep the noises down. He can only imagine the catastrophic consequences if his mother (or your father) wakes up and finds his son’s cock buried in his stepsibling’s throat. “Fuck— I wish I could have you on your knees all day…”

You try to nod at the idea, it sounds great— it fucking does. The struggle for air starts to hit you, and the lustful haze replaces the alcohol haze in your head and bloodstream— You are no longer drunk in cheap tequila, vodka, and whatever the fuck was in that igloo; no, you are drunk in his cock, his scent, his voice, in him.

You decide to go big, because well, you already are home. Deepthroating him rewards you with a delightful moan, not loud enough to bounce over the walls of the first floor but enough for you to pick it up and moan as an aftereffect. Your throat contracts around his hard cock and Anakin is a dead man. The little restraint he had left breaks and the next thing you feel is your head banging against the wall to keep you in place as he fucks your face. His hips thrust on and on, your gags and chokes sobs only spurring him further. Your nails dig into his thighs and his balls graze against your chin with every frantic snap. Anakin is painting, sweating, sinning.

If this was the forbidden fruit, could he blame Eve at all?

Your tears, your smeared makeup, the drool that trickles down your chin is like a work of art. Anakin thinks you look beautiful, but it isn’t enough. The muted pounding of the back of your skull against the wall shouldn’t be as erotic as you register it, forcing your mouth open, letting him use you, ruin you, own you in the nastiest way possible.

Anakin’s release comes without warning. His cock twitches inside your mouth and some thick, hot ropes of cum slide down your throat before he moved out of the warm paradise that your mouth was to paint your face with his cum. He exhales shakily, stroking the base to make sure everything is out and on you. The thick globe of cum that slides down your cheek reaches the corner of your lips and you stick your tongue to catch it, making Anakin squeeze his eyes close and wipe the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand.

The silence is everything but tense, it even feels comforting; as if all the words that you two wanted to scream were now said— in such a carnal, animalistic way. Anakin’s hands are gentle as he helps you get up, giving you the time you need to calm yourself and settle the unsteadiness of your legs. His arm wraps itself around your waist, trying so badly not to look at your cum-stained face in order to not get hard again.

“Sorry,” He whispers as the familiar sensation of guilt makes itself present and commences to weigh his shoulders down. His nose scratches your shoulder, and every negative thought begins to swirl inside his mind.

“Don’t be” You reply, trying to smile but you are too tired to even do it.

The clock ticks 4:12 am.

“Is it wrong if I say I love you?” Anakin’s voice is searing with regret, what has he done? The martyrdom rings inside his chest, constricting it and echoing like big, golden bells.

“I don’t know” Your answer is sincere. You blink some tears away, wiping some of his lukewarm cum away from your face, it’s beginning to dry up. “But I love you too, so, if it’s wrong…”

He knows what you are implying.

The clock ticks 4:16 am when he helps you undress and wipes your face with a makeup remover wipe. Anakin helps you get dressed, noticing your pajama top was an old t-shirt that belongs to him, a piece of clothing he simply imagined he lost in the washer machine. His lips are soft when he tucks you in bed. You smile at him tiredly, kissing him back.

No more words were needed.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn’t my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya answers!#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skwalker #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfic #stepbrother!anakin #stepbrother!Anakin Skywalker

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proxima-writes · 8 days

Text

the harder the rain, the sweeter the sun

pairing: storm chaser!joel miller x storm chaser!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 6.5k

summary:

Storm chaser-turned-weatherman Joel Miller hunts down his old crew in an effort to serve his wife with divorce papers. When a storm interrupts his efforts, he finds himself falling back into old routines and old feelings.

A Twister (1996) AU

author’s note: are you someone, like me, who was fucking obsessed with the movie twister and at one point made it your entire personality (maybe even at too young of an age)? then this fic is for you! this may be one of my favorite fics ever and i hope you enjoy it, too. please consider reblogging or commenting or even dropping into my ask box if you like the fic, i would love to hear from you!

amazing title art by @atinylittlepain

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ only, minors do not interact), explicit language, undefined age gap, able bodied reader (actions include running, lifting, climbing), no reader physical characteristic descriptions, dual pov, established relationship, estranged marriage, mentions of divorce, alternate universe - movie: twister (1996), not a direct rewrite of the movie but pretty close, storm chaser!joel, storm chaser!reader, natural disaster action scenes, mild angst, mention of reader’s parent’s deaths, praise, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cum eating, minor character death.

masterlists: all characters | joel miller

support for palestine

The first person to notice Joel’s truck pulling up to the makeshift weather station site is his brother, Tommy.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” He says, hands on his hips. Joel gets out of his truck and Tommy envelops him in a strong hug. “Had no idea you were comin’ out here.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Joel admits. He waves the envelope in his hand. “But I can’t get her to sign ‘em unless I track her down myself.”

The expression on Tommy’s face drops and he nods, clearing his throat. “She’s around here somewhere.”

“Probably hiding from you,” another voice chimes. Tommy’s wife, Maria, jumps from the back of a nearby pick up truck where she had been fixing a satellite. “Welcome back, Joel.”

“I ain’t back,” he grumbles, giving her a quick hug. “How’re you, Maria?”

“Sweaty,” she replies. “Heard you got yourself a nice channel gig. Must explain the suit.”

Joel looks down at his outfit of tan slacks and a matching suit jacket over a white button up shirt. He tries to think of a response, but another familiar voice calls out his name.

“The prodigal son returns!” Tess shouts. Her short hair has grown out since the last time he’s seen her, but the ever present camera around her neck remains the same.

He notices movement from the back of one of the vans. You emerge, wiping your hands on a grease stained rag and for a brief moment, a bolt of longing courses through him like a lightning strike.

“Joel,” you say, a smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Wasn’t expecting you out here.”

“You won’t answer any of my calls,” he replies. A tense silence falls over the group until Maria nudges Tommy in the ribs and drags him off while Tess mumbles an excuse about checking the radio and escapes in the other direction. “Have you looked at the papers?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there a reason you haven’t signed them?”

“Been a bit busy,” you say, gesturing to the camp. “I got something you’ll want to see.”

You brush past him and Joel sighs, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation before turning to follow you to one of the trucks. You pull yourself up into the bed and stand beside a large metal container.

“She’s here, Joel,” you say proudly, hitting one of the buttons. The lid on the unit pops open. “ELLIE.”

“No shit?” Joel asks, climbing onto the truck for a closer look. He picks up one of the spherical sensors, holding it up for inspection. “I’ll be damned. You really did it.”

“We did it,” you respond quietly. The expression on your face is painfully familiar, that combination of pride and sadness that he’s grown accustomed to in the last few years. He murmurs your name, tries to think of something else to say, but a shout interrupts his efforts.

“We’ve got action!” Tess yells.

The camp explodes into a flurry of movement. Equipment is packed away with speed and efficiency while anything else that isn’t fragile is tossed into the nearest truck or van. Joel watches it all and remembers when he used to be part of this machine, calling out orders and getting on the radio for coordinates as he hit the gas and peeled out in a cloud of dirt and dust.

He’s so caught up in it all that he almost forgets why he was here, and when he remembers you still haven’t signed the papers he curses, running for his truck and taking off after you down the rural roads.

“You comin’ with, brother?” Tommy’s voice crackles over his truck radio.

“She didn’t sign!” Joel says back.

“Keep lying to yourself, Joel!” Maria calls back.

It’s a race against time and God, the storm clouds overhead dark and churning ominously. The air is filled with static, lightning striking in the distance. Joel can feel it all in his veins, the adrenaline thick as he keeps speed with the rest of his former crew. The honk of a horn draws his eyes to the rearview mirror, where a gleaming black Surburban is gaining speed on him.

“Son of a bitch,” he snaps. He grabs the radio. “We got company!”

The Surbuban pulls up beside him, a woman in the passenger seat that refuses to look his way. Marlene, once a lab mate of yours and Joel’s in the early days of your career, is now the face of FEDRA’s corporate sponsorship. Sold out for shiny toys, Joel once said.

“What’s Marlene doin’ here?” Joel asks.

“Bet she’s wondering the same thing about you!” You chime in.

The convoy of uniformed vehicles speeds past him, the old trucks his crew still uses no match for them. In his distraction, he narrowly misses a fallen tree limb, careening off the dirt road with a loud bang.

“Fuck!” He shouts. His tire has gone flat.

This is the last thing he needs.

You watch Joel through the window of the little diner you’ve all made a stop at once the storm broke up on the radar as you had been driving to catch it. He’s across the street at the mechanic to get a new tire, having driven in on the spare that Tommy circled back to help him put on. You twist the plain gold band on your finger, lost in thought.

“Hey,” Tess says, sliding onto the stool beside you. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” you reply quickly. Her keen gaze makes you fold. “Weird. It feels weird.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s in a suit.” She takes a sip of her drink. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“He looks good.”

“Sure, if you like ‘em with a stick up their—“

“What’s channel four doing here?” You ask, cutting her insult off. The news crew is unloading their gear from their van as the anchor speaks to Marlene, who’s gesturing to a piece of equipment that looks suspiciously similar to the culmination of your life’s work sitting in the bed of your truck. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you snap, racing for the door.

“This is ABBY, the first unit of its kind. It’s built to give us a look inside of the funnel, allowing more precise storm prediction that could mean a world of difference for preparation and survival,” Marlene says proudly. “Inside are hundreds of sensors that, once deployed, will spiral inside of the tornado and report back real-time, accurate measurements.”

“Hey!” Joel barks, coming up to the scene from the opposite direction. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

“Cut!” The anchor yells as Joel crowds in close to Marlene.

“You really think you can get away with rippin’ off our idea?” Joel snaps.

“I only took your idea and made it a reality,” Marlene responds, holding her hands up placatingly. “Face it, Joel. Your team doesn’t have the same resources to get this idea off the ground. Literally.” She laughs. “Besides, what are you doing here? I thought you retired.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. ELLIE isn’t just a dream anymore. We’ve got her here.”

Marlene’s smile falters. “Is that so?”

“Yep,” Joel says. “And she’s going to be the first in the air.”

“We’ll see about that, Joel.” She steps back, addressing her crew. “Pack it up. Let’s hit the road.”

You stand there together watching as they pull out of the parking lot and back onto the two lane highway. When they’ve disappeared from sight, you give Joel’s shoulder a tentative pat.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you tell him. “Hopefully you’re right.”

The look he gives you is serious, a furrow between his brow that you used to smooth with your thumb, back before things fell apart. You smile at the memory. The tension eases from his shoulders and his lips curl up the slightest bit, as if in response.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tommy says, breaking your attention from his brother. “But we got another development on the radar.”

“Alright, let’s get her,” you reply, breaking away from them to get to your truck. Joel is still standing there when you chance a look over your shoulder. “You just gonna stand there, or are you coming?”

“You still haven’t signed the papers!” He shouts back.

“I can sign them in the truck!”

He curses but jogs after you, coming up behind you and beating you to the driver’s door. “I’m drivin’,” he says.

“No,” you argue. “This is my truck.”

“You think I forgot how to drive this thing?”

“I think you’re out of practice!”

“You’re wastin’ time, just get in the fuckin’ truck,” he snaps. You roll your eyes and do as he says.

Some things never really change.

“You have to get ahead of it!” You shout. Hail pelts the roof of the truck and bounces off the windshield as Joel drives down the dirt road. Wind whips through the trees and lightning flashes in the fields while the clouds churn and peak at threatening speed.

“I know!” He shouts back, both hands tight on the wheel. “I can’t fuckin’ see anythin’!”

“Just cut across the field!”

“I can get us further ahead on the road!”

“We’re going to get stuck alongside it!”

“Do you want to drive?!”

“I’d love to!”

Joel huffs, accelerating faster. The clouds gather more tightly, stretching from the sky towards the earth. He glances out of his window and catches a glimpse of the storm, his heart pounding as he watches the funnel organize. He watches it for a moment before slamming on the breaks, the truck fishtailing as it comes to a screeching halt.

“What are you doing?!”

Marlene’s team speeds by with angry honks of their horns, but Joel’s attention remains fixed on the tornado. “It’s goin’ to shift its path.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, squinting.

“Look at it, it’s a sidewinder. It’s headin’ left,” he confirms. He throws the truck in reverse, speeding back towards the road they passed. The rest of the team has caught up and follows them down the one lane road.

“There it goes!” You shout, smacking the dashboard in your excitement. You grab the radio. “Alright, tell us what you’ve got, Maria.”

“F2, shifting south. Repeat, shifting south. This thing is unstable,” she says, voice crackling over the speaker. “You guys have a shot but you’re going to be cutting it real close.”

You look at Joel, and he sees that spark in your eyes, the determination he’s always admired, even loved, and he knows he can’t say no. Not to you.

“Let’s get it.”

“We’re running out of time,” you tell him, binoculars held up to your eyes. “We’re not going to make it.”

“We will,” he insists. Joel brakes after another half of a mile and you’re out of the cab before the truck even comes to a complete stop.

The rain immediately drenches you, soaking through your clothes and wrapping you in an icy chill. You’re removing the tethers that hold ELLIE securely to the truck bed and turning the unit on when Joel joins you.

“We have to get it on the ground!” You shout, barely audible over the wind. One of the tethers is stuck, strap not coming loose from the buckle no matter how hard you pull. Joel jumps into the bed and tries to help but with the rain and wind, both of your hands keep slipping.

Joel looks up, eyes going wide. His hand wraps around your bicep, pulling. “We have to get out of here!”

“But ELLIE—“

“Now!” He shouts.

A sound similar to a freight train reaches your ears and panic courses through your veins. Joel pulls on your arm again and this time you follow, jumping from the truck and running as fast as you can. He reaches an arm back towards you, grabbing your hand and tugging you along. He veers to the left, the two of you sliding down a muddy embankment and landing in a ditch.

“Get up,” Joel urges, helping you to your feet. “We gotta get down over there by that bridge, come on!”

Together you trudge through the mud, wind picking up speed around you as the cyclone draws closer. You have your arm held up to shield your eyes from debris and your other hand in front of you, gripping Joel’s jacket tightly.

You make it beneath the cover of the bridge, a slight reprieve from the wind and rain. Joel squeezes his body tightly to yours, pressing you against the dirt and shielding you from the storm. You open your eyes, peering past his shoulder to where you can see the edge of the wide tornado base and the debris it kicks up in its wake.

Suddenly, the world grows quiet. The air goes still, the rain slows from a downpour to a shower. You can feel Joel’s chest heaving with breath against yours, cadence of it matching the pounding of your heart. He backs away slowly and lifts his hands, gently cupping your face.

“You okay?” Joel breathes, eyes searching. You wrap your hands around his wrists and nod. His thumb strokes across your cheekbone, slowly, before he releases your face. “Good. That’s…good.”

“Hey! You’re alive!” You both look up to find Tess at the top of the embankment, hands on her hips. “Tommy owes me twenty bucks!”

“He should know better than to bet against me,” Joel says. His attention returns to you. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Back at street level, you assess the damage. Your truck has been flipped, the ELLIE unit dented but still intact. More notably, the sensors didn’t deploy.

“Fuck,” you curse. “All of that and it didn’t even open.”

“There’s always next time,” Tess assures you.

“You know…we could all use a shower….and a meal,” Tommy says. You shoot him a look.

“No.”

“Come on,” he needles. “You’re covered in mud. We’ll need to get your truck towed somewhere for repairs.”

“I said no.”

“We haven’t had anything but shitty diner food and granola bars for four days,” Maria adds.

“You must really want a hot a meal if you’re willing to face Uncle Bill.”

“That a yes?” Tommy asks. Everyone watches you expectantly.

“Fine,” you sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Joel rides in the van with Tommy and Maria while you go with Tess in her truck. It doesn’t take long to reach the familiar ranch style home that sits on four acres of farmland, complete with a barn that’s become more for show than for function in your Uncle Bill’s older age.

When the van pulls up to the house, Bill’s husband, Frank, is outside on the porch, sitting in a rocking chair with a drink in hand. He waves as Tommy honks to announce their arrival.

The front door opens, Bill’s large frame filling the doorway. His beard has grown since the last time Joel saw him, and it seems as though his ever present frown has too. Joel watches you run up the porch steps and wrap your arms around both men, though Bill is quick to shove you off when he sees the state you’re in. Despite the reaction, Joel can see the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Joel stays towards the back of the group as they approach. He won’t go so far as to say he’s hiding, but it’s a near thing. Handshakes and hugs are exchanged right up until Bill catches sight of him.

“Joel,” he says, crossing his arms.

“Uncle Bill,” Joel replies.

“Just Bill is fine.”

Joel clears his throat, avoiding the man’s gaze. you appear behind him, breaking the tension.

“I’m going to take a shower and then I can help you with dinner,” you tell Bill.

“Who said I was feeding you?”

“Frank did.”

“Sorry, honey!” Frank yells from the kitchen.

Joel escapes Bill’s attention with your distraction, darting into the kitchen to join the others. He helps Frank peel and dice potatoes while Maria and Tess make biscuits and Tommy helps Bill grill up a towering plate of steaks and burgers. Despite his outward show of annoyance, your Uncle Bill is a good guy who always takes care of the crew when they come rolling into his driveway, half starved and exhausted.

“Didn’t expect to see you back,” Frank comments, tone light.

“Didn’t expect to be back,” Joel replies.

“What brings you here, then?”

“Got tired of waitin’ on her to sign the divorce papers.”

Frank hums in response and Joel braces himself for a speech but a minute passes in silence. Then two minutes. Frank sets his potato peeler down and leans his hip against the counter, facing Joel.

“It’s a real shame,” he says, shaking his head and staring out the window to where Bill and Tommy are laughing together. “You two were really good together.”

Joel doesn’t reply, because what is there to say? Frank is right. You and Joel were good together. Where Joel was hotheaded, you were calm. Where Joel took things too seriously, you were more carefree. But perhaps the greatest difference between you two was where Joel let fear stop him in his tracks, you let it drive you.

It’s what started the arguments in the first place. He started feeling like he was getting too old, too worn out for chasing storms. He wasn’t as sharp as he used to be, not as quick, and it was starting to hang heavy over his head. Thoughts of retirement came to him more frequently and each time he brought it up, it would ignite an argument until he just didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. It was just easier to walk away.

“Shower’s free,” you announce as you enter the kitchen, no longer caked in mud.

“My turn,” Joel says. Frank gives him a sideways glance but doesn’t say anything about his silence and swift exit.

Dinner is ready when he's finished with his shower and he takes a seat in the open chair beside you. The whole scene, the normalcy of it, makes Joel feel like a ship returning to port after rough seas. He missed this -- the inside jokes, the playful ribbing, Bill's annoyed huffs and Frank's wide eyed stare as he listens to you recount the events of the day. You even pat his knee when you notice his leg bouncing beneath the table, like the gesture is second nature, even though you haven't done it in the two years since he's left.

He helps with the dishes after everyone has finished eating and puts away what little leftovers remain. Tommy and Maria decide to go to bed in one of the guest rooms while Tess remains in the living room, watching a rerun of Jeopardy with Frank. Joel notices that you're nowhere to be found, but he has a feeling he knows exactly where you've gone.

He leaves the house through the back door, heading through the field towards the barn. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange glow as the sky begins to turn shades of purple instead of blue. The old wooden doors creak as he pries them open and steps inside the building, the smell of hay hitting him in the face like a wall.

There's a loft, accessible by a ladder, that he knows you've made your own. It's been your escape ever since you were a kid, when you came to live with your Uncle Bill after a storm that destroyed your home and ripped your parents from you. He climbs up to the loft, hoisting himself onto the platform.

You're sitting on the wood floor, a quilt from the house spread out beneath you. You’ve brought a lamp up with you, warm light beating back the rapidly oncoming darkness. You look up when he stands.

“Hey,” he says, stepping closer. He kneels onto the quilt with you.

“Hey.”

You shift your weight until you’re lying on your back and Joel does the same beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. You’re both quiet for a long moment, sounds from the field drifting in through the cracks in the wood.

“When will it be enough?” Joel finally asks. You sigh.

“Not this again,” you complain.

“What is it about retirement that scares you so damn much?”

“Retirement doesn’t scare me. I could take the easy way out, too. I could make a pretty little weather woman for some local news channel, but that’s not what I want. It’s never been what I want.” You take a deep breath. “So stop acting surprised that I won’t change for you or anyone else, for that matter. And if that’s something that you can’t love about me—“

“It ain’t about not lovin’ you. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you,” he interrupts, lifting himself so that he can look at your face. Your eyes are glassy, streaks of wetness stretching from the corners to your temple. “But I can’t ever be enough for you.”

Your expression changes, shifting from sadness to surprise to anger. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m gettin’ older, I’m not as good at this gig as I used to be.”

“That’s why you left? Because you think you’re…what? Holding us back?”

“Wasn’t I?”

“No! You big fucking idiot,” you snap. “I can’t believe this.” You sit up, shoving his shoulder and knocking him onto his back. You throw your leg over him, settling over his lap. His hands settle on your thighs, a reflex that hasn’t faded. Your expression is stern as you stare down at him. “You will always have a place with us. With me.”

Joel lets your words sink in, the light of them illuminating the dark parts of his mind that had convinced him you were better off without him. He slides a hand up your belly, over your chest, curling it around the back of your neck and urging you forward.

You come to him easily, your lips finding his.

It feels like coming home.

Joel’s mouth is eager as he kisses you, devours you, hands hot on your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. You missed this, the feeling of being consumed by him, from your body and down to your soul.

He rolls the two of you over, easing you down onto your back and hovering over you. You gaze up at him, noting the deeper creases by his eyes and the grey that has started to become more prominent in his hair and the only thought that comes to you is how beautiful he is.

Joel leaves wet kisses on your neck in three spots — just below your ear, right over your pulse, and just above your clavicle, a pattern he established years ago. The warm air chills the spots he’s left behind as he moves lower, down your chest, pushing up your shirt to give the same attention to your belly. It makes your stomach flip, the way he peeks up at you with dark eyes when he reaches the waist of your jeans.

Instead of moving lower, his focus returns to your breasts. He moves the cups of your bra down to reveal your tight nipples, warm tongue circling each bud in turn. You squirm beneath his weight, cry out when his teeth scrape the sensitive skin. You can feel the smile that graces his lips.

“Still so sensitive,” he says. You gently whack his head in retaliation. “Quit it. Be a good girl or you won’t get your reward.”

“Yes, sir,” you murmur.

“That’s it, knew you could be good for me.” He squeezes your breast in one large hand. “Just needed the right motivation.”

He sits back on his heels and makes quick work of unbuttoning your pants, tugging the zipper down before curling his fingers into the waistband and dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear. Barrier discarded, he settles on his belly between your thighs, face close enough to your core that you can feel the quick brush of his breath on your needy cunt. You wiggle your hips, hoping to spur him into action, but a strong arm holds you still and you let out a low whine.

“What’s the matter, pretty girl?” Joel asks, fingers lightly tracing your skin. “Somethin’ you want? Somethin’ you need?”

“You,” you mumble.

“Louder.”

“You, Joel.”

He kisses your inner thigh, stubble scratching the sensitive skin and making you shiver. Your breath catches in anticipation as he draws nearer to your heat.

The first swipe of his tongue through your folds is like a bolt of lightning to your system, every nerve ending lighting up and your blood coursing hot in your veins. He starts off slow, just the way you like it, broad circles over your clit until you’re squirming in his hold. Then he dips lower, thrusting the tip of his tongue inside of you while his nose continues to nudge your aching clit.

He brings you to the very edge of release before backing off, just enough that you don’t tip over before he’s ready for you to. It drives you crazy, has you cursing his name and begging for him in equal measure, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, generous yet greedy.

“Joel,” you cry, his name a plea. “Are you going to let me come?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he says. His chin is shiny with with spit and slick when he looks up, eyes a little wild and hair messy from your fingers. “But not yet.”

“Fuck!” You snap, head dropping to the wood floor with a thud as he presses two thick fingers inside of you, curling them with each drag from your body. His mouth rejoins the effort, lips wrapping around your clit. It’s too much and so good, that wave of pleasure finally coursing through you as you shatter from his ministrations.

He works you through it, tongue gentle and fingers stilling inside of you, your cunt pulsing around them. When your muscles finally relax, he sits up, holding his hand up to your face and pressing his fingers to your lips. You open your mouth obediently, the earthy taste of your release exploding across your taste buds as you lick the digits clean.

“Missed this,” Joel murmurs, watching you intently. “Missed you.”

“Missed you,” you reply. You reach your hand up, running it down his chest until you’re cupping the prominent bulge in his jeans. “Missed this, too.”

He laughs, shoulders shaking with the force of it. It pulls a smile from you, your beautiful man so carefree, no sign of that troubled wrinkle between his brows and his cheeks flushed with life, the same way they are when he’s coming down from the adrenaline of a chase. He unbuttons his jeans, shimmies the denim down just enough to free his cock.

Joel grips himself at the base, flushed head peeking from his fist. He teases your entrance, slipping his length through your wetness and bumping your still sensitive clit. Your back arches and a moan escapes your lips, one that Joel echoes himself as he slowly, slowly, slowly pushes inside of your tight heat.

“Joel,” you whisper, fingers curling tight into the quilt beneath you. “Joel.”

“I know,” he says. “God, I know.”

When his hips are flush with yours, he leans forward, elbows on either side of your head propping himself up. His cock fills you so perfectly, the stretch almost too much to bear as he starts to move. Each purposeful thrust has you seeing stars, has you gasping and moaning his name. He silences you with his lips, so messy and uncoordinated it can hardly be called a kiss. You clench around him, desperate to keep him inside of you with each drag from your body.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” Joel groans. “Can you come for me, baby? One more time?”

“Mhm,” you hum. He picks up the pace, quick strokes that hit your g-spot with impressive precision. You feel the knot of your release grow tighter, tighter, until it finally unravels, every nerve ending lighting up like you’ve been struck by lightning. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he presses deep, cock twitching and spilling inside of you.

Joel presses his forehead to yours as you both catch your breath, sweat cooling on your skin as minutes pass. When he lifts his head and stares down at you, it’s with a smile on his face.

“That was—“

“Yeah,” you agree. “See? You still got it, old man.”

“Nevermind, I still want a divorce.”

You laugh, loud and carefree. For the first time in years, you feel a sense of peace.

A sense of home.

The two of you get caught in an unexpected downpour as you leave the barn and Joel follows the sound of your laughter as you run through the field back to the main house. Inside, you press a kiss to Joel’s lips, water dripping to the floor beneath you. You’re smiling and he swears he’s never felt more alive, even when chasing the biggest storm.

When you break apart, you whisper that you’re going to take another shower and change. Joel tells you he’s going to clean up the mess to avoid Bill’s wrath. Another kiss, and another, until you finally break away and shut yourself in the bathroom down the hall. He stands there for a moment, lost in thought, until the sound of the shower running spurs him into motion and he goes to search for a towel to clean up the water that’s pooled in the hallway.

As he passes by the living room, heading for the linen closet, he notices the TV is on, the room illuminated in its flickering glow. He stops in the doorway and Frank looks up at him, a knowing smile on his face.

Joel smiles back.

For now, it’s their little secret.

The next day, Bill deems your truck operational. It has a fresh new set of dents and scratches, but it’ll otherwise drive despite the abuse. You spend some time inspecting the unit and determine the lid latch is a little too secure, which explains why the sensors couldn’t deploy. Joel helps you loosen the bolts, the simple task taking twice as long with how often he distracts you when your crew members aren’t looking. You replace the latch with another tether strap that can be quickly released on deployment.

When all is said and done, everyone takes turns saying goodbye to your uncles. Frank tells you to be safe and Bill tells you to not be stupid, which is essentially the same thing. You watch as Joel receives a handshake from Bill that’s a tad too firm, if the grimace on his face is anything to go by.

“Alright, let’s head out,” Maria says, eyes scanning a computer screen. “Radar’s got something forming about twenty miles north of here.”

“What kind of something?” You ask.

“A big something.”

Joel catches your eye and gives you a wink.

“Let’s go get ELLIE into the air.”

The sky ahead of you is pitch black, clouds churning ominously. There’s a certain liminality when you’re driving into a storm that never ceases to amaze you, the image in the rearview mirror bright with sunlight but a foreboding darkness ahead of you.

“You okay?” Joel asks, drawing your attention. His hand rests on your thigh, fingers tapping against your knee. “Not gettin’ cold feet, are you?”

“About this?” You nod towards the sky. “Never.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Guys? You won’t believe this,” Maria says over the radio. You grab the transmitter.

“What is it?” You ask.

“There’s two cells. Radar maxed out.”

“They’re funneling back,” Tess adds. “This isn’t looking good.”

“You saying we can’t do it?” You ask.

The radio is quiet for a moment before Tommy says, “If anyone can, it’s you two.”

“What are we up against?” Joel asks.

“Cell one is measuring at the cusp of a three, cell two is reaching four,” Maria continues.

“Joel.” You tap his arm. “Look.”

A funnel has formed ahead of you, still teetering in the air and not quite making contact with the ground. It’s only a few miles ahead and Joel hits the brakes as he takes it in.

“What’s the trajectory of this?” He asks.

“Northeast.”

It’s heading your way. You both scramble from the truck, climbing into the bed to prepare ELLIE — Joel removing the tethers while you turn the unity on. The wind picks up speed as you work, dust from the road whipping around you and making it difficult to see.

“Let’s get her down!” Joel shouts. He jumps to the ground and together you ease the equipment onto the ground, removing the lid tether. After what feels like ages, ELLIE is ready and you both return to the truck.

Joel turns the truck around and drives in the opposite direction of the cyclone’s path. He stops and you can hardly breath as you watch the storm tear across the landscape.

“This is it!” Tess shouts through the radio.

You grab Joel’s hand as the funnel nears ELLIE, the wind making the unit shift and sway. You swallow nervously.

“It’s too light,” you murmur.

“No it’s not,” Joel says confidently.

Closer and closer the funnel moves, but ELLIE doesn’t lift from the ground. You’re biting your lip so hard that the taste of copper blooms across your tongue.

“We’ve got a shift!” Maria says. “We’ve got a shift, due north. Due north.”

“Fuck!” Joel shouts, slamming a hand on the steering wheel.

“Guess who just showed up?” Tommy adds.

Far across the field, a familiar caravan of black vehicles speeds towards the cyclone.

“What channel are they using?” You ask. There’s a brief silence until Tess calls back, “Six. Why?”

You switch the channel. “Marlene, you have to anchor the unit.”

“I’m a little busy right now,” she calls back. “Trying to make history over here.”

“Listen to me. Unless you manage to position your unit right under a touchdown, it’s not going to get picked up. And if it doesn’t pick up, it doesn’t deploy.”

“Maybe that’s just an issue with your unit. I can assure you ABBY will succeed where ELLIE failed.”

“Goddamnit,” you snap, tossing the transmitter down.

“Can’t fix stupid,” Joel says. He hits the gas, bringing the truck back to ELLIE. “Let’s load her back up, maybe we can catch the second cell.”

Pack loaded once more, you return to the cab. Joel is about to put the park in drive when you place a hand over his chest.

“Do you see what I see?” You ask.

Joel watches the twister, then Marlene’s team. He grabs the radio.

“Marlene, listen to me. That monster is going to shift and if it does, you’re in the path of destruction and that base is too wide for you to get out of there. You have to hang back now.”

“Radar isn’t showing a shift. I’m not missing this chance,” Marlene replies.

“You gotta look at the funnel action, too. Not just the radar. You’re goin’ to get yourself killed!”

“Clear this channel, Joel. I’ve got work to do.”

“Fuck!” Joel snaps.

Sure enough, the cyclone shifts its path, a minute change with dire consequences for Marlene and her team. The twister barrels toward the caravan, vehicles lifting from the ground.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.

“I know,” he says. His throat bobs around a pained swallow. “We did what we could.”

Joel switches the radio back to your team’s channel, a flurry of panicked voices filling the cab. Maria’s voice snaps your name.

“Do you read me? The second cell has organized, five miles east moving north along 80.”

“Copy that,” you say as Joel drives in her suggested direction. “What’s it looking like?”

“Too soon to tell but the cloud base is massive.”

Joel drives parallel to Maria’s path suggestion, racing to get ahead of the storm. The funnel begins to form, dropping down from the restless clouds. It’s one of the biggest you’ve seen, more of a column of wind than a tapered cyclone. The strength of it grows as it hits the warm air, touching down with a contact point as wide as the funnel base.

“Wind speed is measuring at an estimated 270 miles per hour. We’ve found ourselves an F5,,” Maria says. “She’s slow, but strong. Movement only measuring at ten miles per hour, still heading east.”

Joel changes direction, heading towards the storm from the back, rather than trying to get ahead of it.

“ELLIE needs an anchor,” you remind him.

“I know,” he says, looking over at you. “I’m giving her one.”

“We’re using the truck?”

“You got a better idea?”

“No, no, go ahead. Can’t wait to explain this one to insurance.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and take the radio one more time. “We’re sending the truck up with ELLIE. If this works, get ready for the best data in history.”

“Roger that,” Tess replies. “Ready for the feed.”

Another mile ahead, Joel gets the truck speed up to fifty miles per hour before setting the cruise control. He unbuckles his seat belt and you follow suit, throwing the passenger door open and holding onto the grab handle.

“One,” Joel shouts. “Two!”

“Three!” You finish, jumping from the cab. You hit the ground hard, rolling through your landing, the air punched from your lungs. When you’ve caught your breath, you get yourself on your hands and knees, frantically searching for Joel.

He’s kneeling in the road, watching as the truck continues to barrel towards the twister. You crawl to him and he pulls you close, an arm around your waist to hold you up beside him.

“Go, go, go!” He shouts.

The sound of brakes squealing has you looking back over your shoulder to see your team has arrived. They gather behind you, Tess snapping photos at rapid speeds, Tommy recording video, and Maria’s eyes glued to her computer. You look ahead, just in time to watch the truck disappear into the swirling mass of debris.

Everyone is silent for a long moment, waiting. Watching. Hoping.

“I’m getting a read!” Maria shouts. “She’s up! ELLIE is flying!”

“Oh my god,” you murmur. “Joel, we did it.”

“You did it, baby,” he says.

The twister doesn’t last long. Its power wanes, the cyclone breaking up and retreating back into the sky. You have no idea where your truck has landed, but you don’t care. You and Joel stand up, your legs shaky from the rush of adrenaline. He takes your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss.

“You owe me one hundred dollars, Tommy!” Tess shouts.

Joel pulls away with a laugh. “What did I tell you about bettin’ against me?”

“Does this mean you’re back?” Maria asks.

The arm around your waist tightens, pulling you closer.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “I’m back.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic

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gatitties · 1 month

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hi so can you do a fic where The straw hats thought we died but when they retuned to scabaody we also come back?

Like the straw hats are like

WAIT YOUR NOT DEAD? HUH

─Strawhats x reader

─Summary: Everything seems to fall apart before their eyes when you die, only to find out that you were enjoying yourself in Sabaody and not in your grave.

─Warnings: none

lmao this was fun to write for no reason 😭🤌🏻

The loss of a loved one is a difficult battle, everyone on this crew has experienced at least one death of a family member or someone close to them to call them family, they hoped that pain would not damage their hearts again, unfortunately, you shattered their hearts when they found your limp body on Sky Island when you decided to go your own way.

With their hearts in their throats and their eyes red, they had to say goodbye to you bitterly, burying your body in a cluster of soft clouds, they were silent for a minute until Luffy was the first to give the signal to leave, he knew you would have liked that they were not so sad and that their adventures had not yet ended like yours.

They lamented your lack of presence, you always made everything a little more enjoyable with your nonsense, you managed to fit in perfectly with each of them and although you were not the smartest, most cunning or powerful on the team, they did not expect your early departure.

It was when they arrived at Sabaody for the first time that they thought they were going crazy, thinking that they had gotten over your loss, someone strangely like you seemed to be hanging around that island.

Luffy could clearly see how you were riding some attractions, Nami was confused when she saw you trip over a huge root, Chopper thought that the smell of disinfectant had made him hallucinate and see you eating cotton candy, Usopp simply thought he saw a ghost, Brook thought you came back from the dead to exact revenge when he saw you beating up a couple of guys who seemed to bother you, Franky could only catch your laugh, but it was so similar that he thought his brain was playing tricks on him, Zoro and Sanji bumped into you, but neither you nor they were paying attention as something bigger was catching everyone's attention and practically everyone was jostling each other.

While, oblivious to all the suffering, pain and coping that your companions had to do, you woke up buried in clouds a while ago, managing to get down and reach Sabaody miraculously like a stowaway on another pirate ship, you had planned to look for them and scold them a little for thinking you were dead, but your plans were thwarted when you found the island too much interesting, well, you had been 'dead' for a while, it was okay if you enjoyed a little time at the attractions before looking for your companions.

The thing is that you got so distracted and forgot to find them, if it weren't for the fact that, coincidentally, Jinbe ─who you didn't know since you didn't get to know him─ recognized you from the brief conversations they had with him about you, he was waiting in the queue to buy something and you were just behind, you started a chat to kill time.

"You look terribly like a person who died in the crew I'm part of now, I mean, because of the descriptions they made."

"Oh…"

The blood on your face disappeared at his words, remembering now that you had a crew to return to, and that in fact you were that supposedly dead person, you laughed nervously, wanting to resume your search, although there was no need.

"Hey, Jinbe, here! We were looking for you."

You blinked like an owl as you saw Luffy greet him with his characteristic smile, calming down as you saw the others walking a little further behind calmly, you smiled fondly when you saw them, making eye contact for a second with your captain as you sipped the drink you had gotten before, he casually greeted you by saying your name and you waved back, focused on finishing your drink.

"Wait a moment, you…" he narrowed his eyes looking at you again, drawing the attention of the others "Are you the twin of our dead comrade!?"

You choked on your own drink, Chopper patting you on the back.

"No uh- in fact it's me, the original, only and loved-"

"WEREN'T YOU DEAD!?"

You covered your ears when you heard Nami's scream, your tongue went dry and your body seemed to get smaller when you saw her gaze, everyone had different emotions reflected ─Luffy and Zoro were still a little confused because they really thought you have a twin─ but Nami was the most furious, she started hitting and pushing you.

"GIVE ME BACK THE TEARS I SHED FOR YOU!"

"AW, OH, SORRY!? YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD!"

You ran in circles avoiding the navigator, protecting your head from her light blows while you apologized for not having warned that you 'rose from the dead'.

"Well, who knows, maybe it's a zombie."

"Robin, you're not helping me."

You whimpered, hiding behind Sanji and Franky, waiting for Nami to calm down, it wasn't a reunion like you planned ─you didn't plan anything─ but everyone felt a little relieved, leaving behind the bitterness of losing a partner and enjoying your company now that you were with them again.

#op #one piece #one piece x reader #strawhats #strawhats x reader #request #reader insert #sfw

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watermelonlovershigh · 23 days

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another sickfic/period prompt.. living together as friends/housemates and H finds her on the floor in the night feeling really sick from her period and sits with her + helps her out 🥲 changes her sheets for her, rubs her back and just holds her on the floor with a blanket round them. she's absolutely mortified with no choice but to be accepting of his help and all he wants to do is make her feel a little better :(

Period Cramps Are No Fun {part 1.} (housemate!harry series)

AN: thank you for this request. it's not exactly as the request said but i hope it's close enough. and i normally don't write harry as anything other than y/n's lover but made an exception with this story. please share your feedback with me and let me know how you liked it. enjoy. xoxoxoxo

This story contains: small period leak, severe period cramping, puking due to period cramps, crying due to pain and embarrassment, mentions of sex toys, comfort, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friend!harry - softrry - any harry era - au!harry }

word count- 1,956

You wake up in the middle of the night with severe period cramps and when your housemate and friend Harry happens to wake up for a glass of water, he sees you on the bathroom floor crying and has no choice but to be by your side and comfort you.

You were looking to be someones flatmate or housemate. You'd put offer after offer online and one day a guy named Harry accepted your offer. He had a pretty nice townhouse in London and from his brief description of himself, seemed to be an alright guy. You didn't want to move in with some lazy scumbag and you'd come to find Harry is the opposite of that.

He's probably the cleanest guy you've ever met. He enjoys keeping things organized and loves to keep the house smelling fresh with candles on every shelf and table. And you get along quite nicely. You'd even go as far to say over the six months of living in his townhouse that you've become friends.

Doing things friends do such as order take-out food together, watch movies on the couch, paint each others nails, share juicy details about your love lives (or lack thereof). Harry is a very fun guy to be around and if you're being honest with yourself, you'd say you've developed a slight crush on him. I mean how could you not? He has nearly all the characteristics of what every woman's ideal man would have. Physical characteristics and things through the actions he does.

Now even though you've became great friends over the six months of living here, there is still stuff you try to keep private. For instance, your periods. Harry's not dumb and obviously knows you get a period. Mainly from seeing your sanitary products under the bathroom sink or in the bin by the toilet. You don't try to keep your periods a secret, just private.

And though Harry knows you get periods, as do most females, he has yet to see the bad side of your periods. The periods that make you sob on the bathroom floor from the amount of pain your cramps are causing. The periods that make you nausous and throw up. Luckily those periods aren't a monthly thing but they do happen a few times a year for whatever reason and it sucks.

--------------------------

Late last night as you and Harry were watching a movie on his sofa, you began to feel crampy in your lower stomach. You asked if he could pause the film while you went to the bathroom down the hall and he agreed. And that's when you realized your period had came and you'd leaked. It's not a bad leak but it's enough for you to need to change your underwear and your shorts. Which the shorts barely had any blood on them but still called for a fresh pair.

Once you got yourself situated, you returned to the living room where the first thing Harry commented on is your changed clothes. "Did you change your shorts or somethin'?"

Quickly, you answered, "Yeah, my period started and I kinda leaked. Okay, you can press play on the movie."

Harry nodded sympathetically but followed your orders. He would have said something else to try and comfort you but knew you prefered to keep your periods more private. He doesn't understand why though. All women get periods. It's not something you should be ashamed of and he wished you'd understand that.

Now it's four in the morning and you're woken up to what feels like the worst period cramps of your whole life. Fuck, you scream in your head, it's gonna be one of those months. The longer you lay in bed the more nausous you began to feel from how painful your cramps are and that leads to you stumbling out of bed and rushing to the bathroom down the hall.

After what felt like an eternity, you made it to the bathroom and literally crawled on the floor over to the toilet. Now that you're in the bathroom you feel less nauseous but the pain is still in full force. That's when the tears start flowing. With your back against the wall and your knees up to your chest, sobs roll out your body as you fight against the waves of your uterus contracting to release its lining.

Harry is a heavy sleeper and usually don't wake up unless someone outwardly calls his name or pushes him awake. What wakes him up right now though is a dry mouth and a craving for a glass of water. So he gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen. But before he can even make it to the kitchen, he hears what sounds like crying coming from the hall bathroom.

Rushing over to the bathroom door, the sight before him breaks his heart. You didn't have the strength to shut the door so from the hall, Harry sees you sobbing in front of the toilet, back against the wall, and a hand clutching your stomach. "Oh, Y/n," he steps inside, "what's the matter?"

You slowly lift your head and the first thought in your mind was you didn't want him to see you like this. This was too embarrassing and you were too vulnerable at the moment. "Harry, go. Don't look at me."

Taken back by your words, Harry retorts in concern, "Not until you tell me what's wrong. Are you sick? Why're cryin'?"

Realising it's no use to deny your housemates help in your condition, you answer through the pain and tears, "My.....my cramps are SO bad. It hurts so much, H...Harry. *sob* It's making me feel so sick."

Harry frowns sympathetically and kneels down beside you in just his boxer briefs, which is his usual sleep attire. He would have covered up a bit more if he'd known this is what he was going to be walking into on his trip for a glass of water. As soon as he kneels down, you get the real urge to puke.

You push yourself off the wall and hang your head over the toilet. A harsh dry heave leaves your mouth that makes him cringe but nothing more, yet. Harry quickly scoots behind you and collects your hair with one hand and runs his other hand over your back. He doesn't know if you want to be touched right now but knows that when he's getting sick he finds that if someone rubs on his back it makes him feel a little better.

"Shhh," Harry whispers gently, "it's okay. You're okay. I've got you." He patiently waits until your feel better or actually get sick. After a few more jarring dry heaves, you end up throwing up in the toilet. And though the act feels like hell and is gross, you hope it will also relive the sickness your belly feels due to your period cramps.

You slowly lift your head up, taking deep breaths, and start crying again. This time not from the pain but from embarrassment. Harry's quick to ask, "Hey, what is it, Y/n? The cramps again?"

A little more coherently then the last time you spoke, you answer, "No. Just embarrassed. I threw up in front of you." That has Harry throwing his head back with a laugh.

"Y/n, I don't give a single fuck about you throwing up in front of me. Everyone gets sick from time to time. Just want to make sure you're alright. I hate that your period cramps are causin' you so much pain."

While subconsciously rubbing circles in your lower tummy, you ask desperately in a near whispered voice, "H, can you please go get me some pain medicine. It's in my bedside table drawer in my bedroom. Once I have that I think I'll feel better. At least for a couple of hours."

"Of course." Harry agrees and gets up off the bathroom floor to head to your bedroom. Once inside, he walks straight to your bedside table and opens the drawer to find your bottle of pain medication. While rummaging through to find the bottle, Harry tries to ignore the assortment of sex toys you have in there; bullet vibrator, dildo, clit sucker. Shit, this is the wrong time for him to get all hot and flustered at the thought of you using those under his roof.

He finally finds the bottle of pills and heads back to the bathroom where you still are. Within the time it took him to grab your medicine, you've stood up off the floor, flushed the toilet of course, and now sit on a closed toilet seat. Harry opens the bottle and asks, "How many? One or Two or....?"

"Two please." Harry hands you two tablets and grabs a paper cup used for rinsing your mouths out by the sink and fills it up with tap water. You carefully grab the small cup from his hands and take the pills with urgency, just wanting to be out of pain as soon as possible.

Once that's over with, Harry annonces, "Well, I'll let you get cleaned up in here and I'll be out there waiting for you."

"Okay, thank you." you respond gratefully. Harry really is the best housemate you could have asked for. While he's gone, you change out your tampon and brush the taste of vomit from your mouth. Then you exit the hall bathroom, ready to try and get a few more hours of sleep.

As you step inside your bedroom, you're taken back. Harry has managed to change your sheets and duvet, claiming a fresh pair will help you relax and hopefully sleep better. He's also set an actual glass of water on your nightstand, as well as plugged in his heating pad for you to use. "Harry....... what's all this?"

Nervously, because he doesn't know if this is all too much to do to someone who is just his housemate and friend, Harry replies, "Um, just wanted to make sure you come back to a comfy room. Hopefully you'll get a few more hours of sleep. And if you get thirsty or need to take more medicine, there's a glass of water there. Then my old heating pad that you can use across your tummy to also help with your cramps. Hope it's not too much."

You turn around with a small smile on your face and reach out to hug him. He's startled at first but soon relaxes and hugs you back. You hug for a minute before you break away first and mutter your appreciation. "No, this is great, Harry. Not too much at all. Thank you for your kindness tonight. And thank you for putting up with me in the bathroom. I know that wasn't a pretty sight. So yeah, just, thank you so much."

Looking down at you, Harry gets the urge to kiss you, but instead, says, "Y/n, it's no big deal, really. I would have helped anyone in that situation. Just want you to feel better s'all. Now get back into bed and around ten I'll wake up and make us a brunch. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds perfect." You crawl back into your bed that now has fresh sheets and maneuver the heating pad over your tummy. The pain medicine has begun to work but your uterus is still quite achy. As Harry turns around and heads out your door, you yell out, "Night." even though it's five in the morning by now.

"Night, Y/n." Harry speaks as well before slipping back into his bed across the hall. Now laying in your separate beds, all you can think about is how much you would have loved if Harry was in your bed cuddling you. And all Harry can think about is how much he wishes you were in his bed, so he could cuddle you. Maybe one day that day will come. But for now, you're just silly housemates that's turned into friends.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @skyangel57 // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom // @swiftmendeshoran

// @luv-flor7777 // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone // @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry // @shadowygladiatorlight // @manifestrry //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

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My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #housemate!harry #housematerry #friend!harry #friendrry #soft!harry #softrry #harry styles x reader #harry styles period comfort #period comfort #harry styles sick fic #sick fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #one shot #blurb

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heich0e · 9 months

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[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

Fushiguro Megumi is responsible.

He always has been, from a younger age than he ought to have needed to be. It's engrained in him now, as much a part of him as his own flesh and bone—if something falls within his scope of responsibility, he's always diligent about seeing it through.

Here's the thing about Megumi, though, the thing he doesn't even really know about himself: he's a perfectionist. Because of this, he doesn't like to be responsible for things—at least not things that he can't guarantee will be a success. Things that he knows he can execute perfectly.

But the road to hell is always paved with good intentions. Convictions, no matter how strongly-held, can accidentally falter.

Megumi has never wanted to be a father.

And maybe this all ties back to his unconscious need to do things perfectly. The pathological insistence he feels to do things all by himself, and do them right. He relies on his experience to achieve these things, and looking back on what little experience he has with fathers, he knows it's not enough—not sufficient—to properly prepare him for a similar undertaking.

And he's fine with that.

He's got enough on his hands anyway, first as a student putting himself through veterinary school, and then with the clinic he works at. The elderly vet he studied under, and who owned the clinic, retired just before Megumi turned 30, and having worked together for almost a decade—first as a part timer, then a tech, then an assistant, and finally a partner—the old man gave Megumi the option of buying the business and taking it on.

Always thought of ya like a son, the old man had said to him one evening after closing, having dragged Megumi to the izakaya down the road to get a drink. Megumi doesn't even really like drinking very much, especially when he was due back at the clinic at dawn, but he indulged the old man who ended up ruddy cheeked and tipsy about as quickly as Megumi expected, given past experience. The conversation had taken him by surprise when his mentor had announced his retirement. 'S only right I pass it on to you, if ya want it.

The offer made something uncomfortable squirm in Megumi's gut. His fear of change rearing its ugly head. His doubt that he was ready to take on such a huge responsibility. The uncomfortably foreignness of being called someone's son.

Just think about it, the old man slurred, immediately picking up on Megumi's hesitation. Yer still a young fella, Megumi, but ya won't be ferever. Gotta start thinkin' about yer future 'ventually. Settlin' down, findin' yourself a pretty girl, babies.

Ah, the future. Yet another thing Megumi hates, in all its unknowable infamy.

Megumi eventually helped the elderly vet into a taxi to get home, and then went back inside the izakaya to drown his sorrows—early shift be damned. His head was a mess, full of a terrible spiral of thoughts about his future that now looked so uncertain, and while the beer he was drinking certainly didn't help him make sense of them, he hoped, however briefly, it might help him to forget.

When Megumi woke the next morning to the alarm blaring from his cellphone, he had a splitting headache thanks to the beer and he was sleeping in the narrow entryway to his apartment with all his clothes (and his shoes) still on. But even in spite of all of that, and the smell of soap clinging to him that he didn't recognize, he felt lighter, somehow—surer about things.

The old man signed the business over to him a month later.

It's been four years since then, and while it hasn't been easy, Megumi's been taking responsibility just like he always has. He does what needs to be done to keep the lights on. He treats his staff well. He takes care of any animals that come through the clinic's door—no matter how dire, no matter how far gone, no matter how they get there.

Yuuji in particular takes advantage of this good nature—showing up frequently, sometimes even after all the other staff has gone home, with some woeful little creature he'd encountered. Sometimes it's a stray cat he'd been called at the fire station to help out of a tree, sometimes it's a dog that he'd found in the road on his drive home from work, or a little bird on the sidewalk. And he gives Megumi the same desperate look every time, the same beseeching eyes, and Megumi curses the fact that the two of them are the same when it comes to this particular responsibility—before letting him inside to examine the new patient.

It's pouring down rain one night, and Megumi has just sent everyone home for the day with a word of thanks for their hard work, when he thinks this very situation is about to repeat itself when he hears a frantic thump! thump! thump! against the glass of the clinic door. Megumi, in his office, pinches the bridge of his nose. He'd even turned the lights out in the lobby so that he could pretend he wasn't there. He knew Yuuji was on his way home from work based on the animated sticker he'd just sent him via text, before offering to pick up some beer and come over, but he hadn't replied—and certainly hadn't expected him to make it to the clinic so quickly.

Megumi sighs, pushing himself up from his desk and padding out in his slippers to the front of the clinic. It's dark out, and hard to see with no lights on in the lobby, but there's a little figure standing outside the rain-covered glass of the door. They appear to be trembling. Megumi pauses, confused, before fiddling with the lock and reaching over to flip on the light beside the door.

What he sees when the door slides open makes him freeze.

Before him is a little boy, no more than four or five, soaked through with rain and shivering in the cold. He has teary green eyes, black hair that's weighed down by the rain, and round, rosy cheeks. Megumi feels sick when he looks at him.

A mirror image of himself.

The man is so frightened that he doesn't even say anything, just stares in horror at the little boy trembling outside the door. Megumi's never heard of a ghost story like this, those were always Yuuji's thing, but that must be what this is. Some kind of spectral being who's shown up to—

A little hand reaches out and tugs on his pant leg.

"Please help me," the little boy says, his voice weak and thick with tears. "Mr. Vet, I need your help."

Megumi watches with wide eyes as the little boy opens his raincoat, revealing a small mass of fur tucked against his chest. A rabbit, Megumi surmises quickly, once he sees the ear; a bunny in fact, when taking into consideration its size. Megumi can't even tell if it's alive because the animal is so terribly still where it's cradled to the boys heart.

He feels another insistent tug at his pant leg, the boy's hand still firmly clutching it. He looks at the child, who seems more determined now, his tears still present but his gaze a little more resolute.

"So, can you help me?"

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #mini megumi #tw parenthood #tw pregnancy

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mikobeautifulheart · 1 month

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Hii idk if you write for choso but if not could you write for megumi when reader has a kitty that he gets annoyed of because she shows the kitty more attention them him💖💖thank youuuu

You know what, there's a first for everything. ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIVE. It not edited.

"What is that" Choso asked standing infront of you.

"Whats what" you asked with a smile

"That thing in your lap" He said pointing to the cat you were stroking that was slowly drifting to sleep on your lap.

"Oh, I found him but I don't think he has a home..."

"Him?" He asked with more jealousy then confusion.

"Well, yeah...Wanna pat him? He isn't aggressive at all, as long as your gentle"

You grabbed Choso's hand guiding it to the cat before it opened its eyes and glared at him. He pulled his hand away.

"No it's fine" he said glaring back at the cat. The urge to pierce it with his blood was almost unbearable.

"Any ways, are you ready to go?" You asked Choso to distract him from the cat.

"Yeah." He said as you got up with the cat in your hands. He sent another murderous gaze to the cat.

"Are you bringing that thing with you?"

"Yes...I don't think he has a home or owner and I found him all alone so I have to take reasonability now" your eyes sparkled with excitement.

He really was a cute kitten. But Choso didn't see it that way. He would lay his head in your lap and you would play with his hair. Not that creatures hair.

You guys walked home, still with the cat.

As soon as you walked through the door it leapt out of your arms and landed on the floor. Choso gave it another dirty look as it turned around to look at him and go back to exploring the home. But what ever makes you happy right? soon you'll realise how much you miss him then the cat and you'll run right back into his arms. Right?

Choso walks into your shared bed room only to see the cat laying on his side of the bed.

That was the last straw.

"Okay creature it seems I've been giving you to much mercy for your crimes." He said picking up the kitten and holding it up making it stretch.

"You have until tomorrow to disappear, and your sleeping on the couch tonight."

The cat moved its head to Chosos and before licking it.

Well maybe this cat wasn't so bad Choso thought.

Then a shooting pain went through his hand seeing that the cat had bit it before is escaped out the room and down the hall way where he heard you absolutly dotting on the cat.

"AWWWWW Who's a good kitty?" you said followed by loud purrs.

AUTHOURS NOTEE: I actually don't have a cat or seen any of my friends cats so I hop I got close with cat characteristics. Anyways I loved this request and since it's my first time really writing for Choso I hope it was up to standard. THANK YOU, YOU BEAUTIFUL ANON FOR YOUR REQUEST♡

(I might make a part 2 and reblogs welcomed)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x you #kamo choso #choso my beloved #choso jjk

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querenciasturniolo · 8 months

Text

same ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: swearing, crying, anxious thoughts, kissing

summary: nick gives you some much needed advice, and things don’t go according to plan

a/n: (part two to obviously) i wasn’t expecting the amount of love i got for obviously, and i was SO excited for this part two that i tried to get through all of my requests so i could focus on this. thank you, i had SO much fun writing this 💓 i hope i tagged everyone !!!

part one || part two

tags: @222-lia , @black-yn , @lvrsparadise , @gwenloremain , @athenalive , @mxriverse , @notmarnaa , @rainsoakedphoenix , @peter-knows-spiderman , @sunflowerchild27 , @strniolo , @jellybeanbby , @oneirophobic , @landryz , @umichlover , @ot5xhabit , @edensocool , @floofparker , @friedfirewagonhorse , @avamartino , @hoshhoshh

You didn’t answer the text.

You tried, you really did. You had ‘yes’ typed out and drafted, but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d pick Nick up from the house, or he’d get an Uber, but you couldn’t step foot in there.

You’d never been one to run away from anything, especially when it could start conflict, but this was…uncharted territory. Matt didn’t text you again after that, but every time Nick saw you, he complained about how Matt was acting like a kicked puppy, and today was no exception.

“I just don’t understand why he’s moping around all the time.” He said, flopping down on your bed and groaning. You couldn’t take hiding this from him anymore, so you sighed and opened your phone, opening the text from Matt and showing Nick. He glanced over, his eyes scanning over the text for longer than it should have taken.

It was quite a few moments before he reacted, but after fully processing it, he shot up and whipped around to face you, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Why haven’t you answered him? It’s no wonder he’s all out of whack!” Nick exclaimed. You knew he didn’t mean it in a mean way, but it still felt like a jab to your chest. You groaned and grabbed a pillow, pulling it over your face to muffle your scream into it. You pulled it away and hugged it close to you.

“I don’t know! I can’t…I can’t bring myself to answer it. I want nothing more than to answer him. Like, if he feels the same way that’s great and we can go from there, but if he doesn’t but still wants to be friends, it’ll be awkward even when I do get over him and, fuck! I don’t know what to do.” You completely let everything out, all of the worry and stress and frustration towards yourself completely diminishing as tears pooled in your eyes and a choked sob left your lips.

The crazy thing was that you knew that your crying wasn’t because you were hurting or sad—it was just such a relief to finally get everything you’d been feeling off of your chest that your body reacted in the only way it could. Nick wasted no time as he pulled you into his arms and held you, letting you get it out of your system before saying anything else.

When the tears finally stopped and your breathing was even, Nick pulled away but kept his hands on your shoulders. His eyes were locked on yours, full of love and care.

“First, never hold anything in like that. I don’t care what the topic is, it’s not worth the pain of keeping it in.” He said, his voice soft but stern. You nodded and wiped at your cheeks. Nick sighed and looked down, pulling his hands to his lap and fidgeting with his fingers before he looked back up. “Second, you should talk to Matt. He’s the only person that can find a solution to this situation that will be good for the both of you. He is the one you should be telling your worries to, because he is the only other person that knows exactly how you are feeling.”

You loved and hated when Nick was right. You knew you could only avoid this without going completely insane for so long, and eventually you’d have to get over yourself and just talk to him, even if it didn’t go well. Regardless of the outcome, you grabbed your phone and finally sent the message, locking it and dropping your phone into your lap.

Nick’s smile was all of the reassurance you needed.

You’d been pacing in your bedroom since Nick left, each minute on your clock going up making your heart race that much faster. Matt had told you he was on his way ten minutes ago, which meant he should be walking into your apartment at any moment, and it was agonizing.

Waiting had never been your strong suit, and the torturously slow build up was the proof. You had decided against doing this a million times, telling yourself that he wasn’t coming and you should just text him nevermind, but then having to convince yourself that he was coming and that you needed to chill out. It was a vicious cycle.

The sound of him knocking on your door made your skin crawl, every atom in your body at attention as you walked through your apartment and hesitated before pulling the door open. Matt was standing there, his eyes darting from the floor to you when you gestured for him to come in. You led him to the couch and sat down, not a word spoken between you until you finally looked into his eyes and word vomited all over the place.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, and it’s okay.”

Matt sighed and looked down. “Y/n.” He said, but once you start you can't stop.

“I just don’t want you to feel awkward and there’s this weird tension around every time we’re in the same room.” You said, Matt looking up with his mouth agape.

“What? Y/n—”

You dropped your head and looked into your lap. “I just hate the thought of losing you in any way, I just want you to know that it’s fine and I can get over this so you don’t have to feel wei—”

You were cut off completely when your head was lifted and Matt’s lips were on yours. Both of his hands were cupping your cheeks, his thumbs resting on your cheekbones. It was over soon before you could process it, your eyes opening when he pulled away to see him looking at you sternly.

“Would you shut up for a second?” He said, his voice tinged with the slightest bit of amusement. You nodded once, your wide eyes watching his every movement.

“Now, I want to say that you ignoring me sucked.” He started. You opened your mouth to apologize, but the look on his face had you shutting it completely and waiting for him to finish. “Thank you. It sucked, but it’s okay. I’m just glad that we’re talking now.” He said.You nodded as he sighed and leaned back against the couch. “Now that it seems I’ve made my feelings clear, I have some questions for you.” You nodded again, not fully able to speak yet.

“So, you like me?” He asked. You sighed, nodding reluctantly for the third time. You’d answer the next question out loud, once your heart had left your throat. Matt nodded and looked down, his cheeks pink. “For how long?”

You thought for a moment before scoffing—you couldn’t think of a specific moment. “How long have we known each other?” You asked humorlessly, Matt smiling and lifting his head.

“Where do we go from here?” He asked. You were staring at the pillow separating the two of you, pinching at it and removing nonexistent pieces of lint. You had absolutely no idea. You’d told yourself that you had to convince him that it was okay if he didn’t feel the same so many times, that you didn’t even think about what would happen if he did.

“I don’t know.” You said, finally looking up and meeting his eyes.

Matt was already watching you, his eyes soft and a faint smile on his lips. He hummed and pursed his lips, feigning being hard in thought. You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as his face lit up.

“How about—we take it slow, and let things happen naturally? The only thing we know for certain is how we feel.” He suggested, your heart racing as you processed the possibilities. “And no overthinking, just go with the flow.” He said, your smile growing as you nodded.

“I can get down with that.”

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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