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#but nobody got to him until it was probably too late
mrdrhenwardhykle · 5 months
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I'm just going to ramble in the tags don't mind me
#uh okay so I see a lot of 'THINGS FNAF FANS NEED TO REALIZE'#or 'SAD THINGS TO REALIZE IN FNAF'#and like#first when people talk about William-further trying to make Movie William book William and try to make him a sympathetic character#despite being horribly immature and corrupt he's not broken he's a pathetic loser who thinks he has the right to ruin childhoods#'realize he didn't kill the kids for fun' right-he was just uper duper curious and decided to play with animal/children corpses for#scientific reasons#he's not a good guy the only correct points in these comps they get is that Vanessa was probably gr00med into thinking that#killing kids was okay#also don't gatekeep me for saying gr00med that's what that is#or 'programming' if you will-it doesn't always mean sexual/romantic things#Also I saw one where the sad realization was that Phone Guy wanted to live#??? okay???#Like-yeah???#Was it assumed knowledge that he didn't???#the sad part about that is that he actually lived up to his word and likely waited out rescue inside the suit (proof: FNAF2 cutscenes)#for serval days/nights btw-and maaaybe was alive during FNAF1#but nobody got to him until it was probably too late#thus why the FNAF1 location closes in the FNAF3 cutscenes and you can also see a skull on the parts and service room#not an endo skull they don't look like that-#Also who knows but maybe Mike Tempering with the animatronics was his way of trying to get him out but I don't think that was the original#intention of Mike when the game was made...#:o
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alotofpockets · 1 month
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Meeting again | Part 1 - Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader
Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.
Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!
Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k
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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?”  Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.
“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him. 
You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf. 
The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen. 
Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain. 
When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”
“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”
When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.
You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.
You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.
Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?
The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.” 
The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad. 
You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son. 
Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.
On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off. 
As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team. 
“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.” 
Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other. 
You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”
You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.
Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”
As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.
You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.
As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.
Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?
You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.
Continue reading part 2!
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punkshort · 2 months
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somewhere to run | 11. austin pt.2
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You go back to Austin for another meeting with Madeline, but this time, you're alone, and you meet someone from Joel's past.
Chapter Warnings: language, some mild hints at smut but nothing explicit, angst, hurt/comfort, discussions/recollections of past DV/SA, insecurity issues, jealousy, panic attack
WC: 6.5K
Series Masterlist
Something was wrong.
You hadn't seen or heard from Joel since the diner, and that was three whole days ago. He didn't normally stop by on the weekends, but he had gotten in the habit of sending you a text here or there. Things like how was the rest of your shift? Or watched this movie tonight with Sarah, you would like it. And sure, sometimes it would be more along the lines of can't stop thinking about you, what are you wearing?
You had both stayed true to your word. The two of you hadn't had sex since the time in his truck a few weeks ago. But some of your texts have crossed the line a couple times. And yes, there might have been one small phone call that ended with your thighs clenched around your hand and him groaning quietly on the other end, but that didn't count. You weren't dating. You weren't together. And unless your phone was tapped, nobody would ever know.
Looking down at your phone, you frowned. The last message you sent him wasn't even delivered. And it was already past his usual time to stop in for lunch. Tomorrow was your meeting with Madeline. You were sure he would want to talk to you about it before you left.
It was very unlike him.
"Maria?" you called out when you happened to catch her walking by the counter.
"What's up?" she asked, carrying an armful of menus.
"No Joel today?" you tried to ask as casually as possible.
If she was suspicious, she didn't let on.
"Oh, yeah. He's out of town. We're watching Sarah til he gets back tomorrow evening," she said, looking over her shoulder when an older couple walked in looking for a table. "Sorry, gotta go," she said, then hurried towards the hostess stand to greet the customers.
Out of town? Why wouldn't he have told you?
Because you aren't dating, you idiot.
Still, it bothered you. You told him you wanted to take control of your life and do things for yourself. Did that upset him? Maybe he took it the wrong way. You had still hoped he would give you advice, some guidance on how the process works, what to expect next.
You were probably reading too much into it. Maybe there was a family emergency.
It wasn't until almost midnight when your phone pinged next to your bed. Groggily, you reached over and squinted at the screen, then opened your eyes wide when you saw his name.
Joel: Sorry, something came up out of town. I'll hopefully be back late tomorrow. Let me know how your meeting goes.
You stared at the screen, reading and rereading his text. Hopefully be back tomorrow? What was going on? Why was he responding so late?
Probably because he knew you would be asleep and wouldn't bother him with a reply.
You put your phone back on your charger without answering and pulled your comforter back up to your chin as you stared blankly at the ceiling.
You were spiraling and you knew it. You were letting your insecurities get the best of you again. There was no reason to think Joel was icing you out. He was probably just busy. You couldn't expect him to spend all his time worrying about you.
There was nothing you could do about it now, short of calling him and outright asking him what's going on, so you did your best to push it out of your mind. Closing your eyes, you tried to will yourself to sleep before hitting the road early the next morning.
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It was very early when you got up, so you decided to still not answer his text from the night before. If he was up that late, he was probably still sleeping.
At first, you were glad for the distraction. Driving the two hours to Austin kept your hands away from your phone, although you would be lying if you didn't hope to have another message from Joel when you stopped to use the restroom, just to be sorely disappointed.
There was hardly any traffic so you arrived a little ahead of schedule. You parked in the same parking ramp you and Joel parked in last time and walked the few blocks to the law firm, grateful for a few minutes of fresh air to clear your head. When you entered the lobby, you were greeted by the same two receptionists as last time, and the same one as before waved you over with a smile. She didn't appear to recognize you when you told her your name, and as you watched her scroll on her computer, a nasty part of you wondered if she would remember Joel had he been there with you.
She probably would. Joel's effect on the women he encounters wasn't lost on you. He practically had the whole town wrapped around his finger back home. It hadn't bothered you much lately, but something about his sudden disappearance and lack of contact was just bringing out all your worst thoughts. You shook your head as you sat down, trying to make the thoughts scatter. Pulling out a small notebook and pen, you flipped open the cover and reviewed the contact information you had given Madeline's secretary, along with a couple questions you wanted to ask, but your eye kept wandering to your phone, as if you were trying to force it to light up with his name.
You heard Madeline's soft voice call for you and you lifted your head to greet her with a smile. Clutching your notebook and pen in one hand and purse in the other, you stood to follow her out of the lobby. You made sure to shoot the receptionist who helped you a friendly smile as you walked past, feeling guilty for having such catty thoughts about her when she didn't even do anything wrong.
"So, I reached out to the people on your list. All except your mother, like you requested," Madeline said, jumping right in when you sat down in her office. You liked that about her. She didn't waste any time.
"I sent them texts warning them you would be in touch and they all seemed happy to help," you told her, and she nodded.
"Very much so, but I really do feel like having your mother testify would help. Mothers are great at garnering sympathy from a jury."
You chewed nervously on your fingernail as you thought about it.
"Besides my cousin, she's the only one who I confided in the most," you began, dropping your hand to your lap. "But she never seemed to see it the same way I did. If Patrick hit me, she thought it was because I was talking back or pushing his buttons. She would defend him, telling me 'he works so hard, he deals with so much stress'. And I'm sure you saw what she would say about the sexual abuse," you said, motioning towards the papers on her desk.
Madeline sighed and looked down at a copy of your statement.
"Yes, I did see that. Can I ask you a difficult question?" You let out a dry laugh.
"Just one?" you asked, and she smiled.
"Did you father ever abuse her or you growing up?" she asked gently. You sat back in your chair, deep in thought.
"Well, definitely not me, but I don't know about her. If he did, it was behind closed doors."
"Was there anything that you maybe saw or heard to make you think that would be a possibility?" she pushed.
"I mean, my dad has a temper. He would shout a lot, fly off the handle over little things, but I don't remember him ever calling either one of us names or hitting my mom."
Madeline nodded as she jotted down a note on her legal pad.
"I'm just trying to find a reason why she would think the way Patrick treated you was acceptable," she explained.
"Oh, right," you said, racking your brain for anything that would give an insight into your mom's response. "I never thought to ask. I was so wrapped up in my own shit, it never occurred to me that she might have been going through something, too." That guilt that never seemed to go away began to stir deep in your belly once again.
"Well, I'll do whatever you're comfortable with," Madeline said, tapping her pen lightly on her legal pad. "If you'd like me to reach out, I will. If you prefer to talk to her first or leave her out of it entirely, I'll stand by your choice. But in my professional opinion, I think it's worth exploring, and if I don't think she would make a good witness once we talk, we can always let it go."
"She doesn't even know where I am," you said softly, more to yourself than anything. "We obviously don't have a very good relationship. When I left, I didn't tell anybody where I was going. I only told my cousin I was leaving so my family wouldn't think I died or was kidnapped or something."
Madeline nodded, listening closely. You loved that about her: you always felt like you were being heard whenever you spoke.
"Why don't you sleep on it and let me know what you decide," she said, and you agreed, watching her flip through her other notes. "As far as the divorce petition goes, Patrick didn't respond. No surprise there."
"What does that mean?" you asked, inching forward in your chair.
"He still is allowed some time to acknowledge it. Specifically, 30 days since he was served, so he has a few more days. If I still don't hear anything, we can file for a default divorce. If we do that, Patrick will give up his rights. Obviously beneficial for you, definitely not for him, so I anticipate a response at that point."
"Okay, that sounds good," you said, feeling a bit of relief. Regardless of how this will go, the end will be the same: you will be free.
There was a soft knock at the door behind you, causing Madeline to look up in surprise, then smiled and waved in the guest. Turning around in your seat, you saw a tall, beautiful woman with warm, brown skin and perfectly styled curly, dark hair enter the room. Madeline stood from her chair, and you followed as Madeline reached an arm out to the woman to introduce her.
"This is Michelle, she's one of the firm's partners."
Michelle shook your hand, her grip firm, and she gave you a dazzling smile.
"Oh, wow, it's so nice to meet you," you said. "I can't thank you enough for taking on my case. This is life changing for me, you have no idea."
"Don't mention it, we're happy to help," she replied, her smile still plastered across her face.
"I didn't realize you were in the office today?" Madeline asked, pulling Michelle's attention from you.
"I was supposed to be in court but the guy ended up pleading guilty last minute. Love when that happens," she said to you with a wink, and you smiled. She glanced around the office quickly before turning back to you and Madeline. "Just you today?"
You paused at first, not understanding what she was asking, and then Madeline stepped in.
"Joel's out of town at the moment," she said to Michelle, and you couldn't stop yourself from frowning. How would Madeline know that?
"Oh, that's a shame. I was hoping to run into him, I haven't seen him in a while. Thought we could catch up," Michelle said, another wide smile spreading across her face, revealing perfect, white teeth. Catch up?
Madeline smiled back but you thought you could see some tension behind her eyes. Or maybe your insecurities were getting the best of you, yet again.
"How do you know Joel?" you asked, and hoped you didn't come off as defensive as you felt.
Michelle gave a soft chuckle and leaned against Madeline's desk.
"So sorry, you're probably confused. I'm sure he didn't mention it because he didn't want you to feel indebted to him since we took your case pro bono under his suggestion," she said, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep up. "We were together for a long time. Almost got married, actually, but then I got a promotion out here with a different law firm and he didn't want to move... I'm sorry, you probably don't want to hear about ancient history," she said with a laugh.
You tried your best to smile in return but you were fairly certain you couldn't move. You felt like the walls were closing in and you could barely hear what she was saying. Fortunately, Madeline swooped in and distracted Michelle while you tried to get your bearings. Slumping back down in your chair, you tried to remember how to breathe without looking like you ran a marathon. How could he not tell you about this?
Glancing back up at her, you examined her features as she spoke with Madeline. High cheekbones, curly hair, athletic build... the question slipped out before you even had a chance to think.
"You must be Sarah's mom."
The two women stopped talking immediately. Michelle looked down at you in your chair and finally you saw that perfect smile crack. Something told you bringing up Sarah was a sore subject, and that nasty, jealous part of you felt good.
Michelle forced a wider smile and tucked an imaginary stray hair behind her ear.
"Yes, actually. I didn't realize he told you about Sarah," she said, her eyes drifting back to Madeline, who just stared right back at her.
"You look so much alike," you told her, your throat tightening. "You must be so proud of her."
Another awkward silence filled the room.
Michelle looked like she was about to reply when her cell phone rang, and you could have sworn she looked relieved.
"I'm sorry, I have to take this. It was a pleasure to meet you," she said, and you actually managed a small smile. The two of you listened to Michelle's high heels click loudly against the wooden floor as she made her way out, answering the phone with an authoritative tone when she stepped back out into the hall.
You and Madeline looked at one another for a moment, each of you not knowing what to say.
"Does she know about me and Joel?" you blurted out. "I mean, you know... that we used to have a personal relationship?"
Madeline chuckled and took her glasses off.
"I didn't think she needed to know," she said, offering you a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't know she would be here today," she added with a sigh.
"Did..." you swallowed but your throat felt like sand. "Was my case picked because of their relationship?"
"Oh, no. Not directly, anyway," she said, shaking her head.
"What do you mean?"
"The partners vote on which cases are picked pro bono, so they all have to agree. I can't say one way or another if she helped sway their decision, but I do know the partners in this firm care about helping people. They see cases like yours and they truly want to help. So regardless, just know they are good people who want to see you get the justice you deserve."
You leaned back in your chair, stunned. Would Joel have asked his ex to do you a favor? And then not even tell you? Is that why he's been icing you out? Maybe he was having second thoughts about your relationship. Maybe he changed his mind but can't figure out how to let you down gently.
Stop spiraling. He's not icing you out.
Oh, but it really felt like he was in that moment, and you could feel your insecurities winning the fight.
The last few minutes of your appointment was spent reviewing what you had discussed that day and a reminder to think about the topic of your mother, but all you wanted to do was get the hell out of that building as soon as possible. Once you finally got back to the safety of your little car in the dark parking garage, you finally let the tears fall.
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The drive home was long and quiet. Your mind was still spinning with the information about Michelle, and as hard as you tried to put it out of your mind, it kept creeping back in against your will. She was pretty. She was so pretty and smart and fit. She reminded you a little bit of Nikki - beautiful, tall, confident. They seemed so different from you. What in the world did Joel see in you if Michelle and Nikki were the types of women he usually went after?
Your phone began to ring in your bag. Reaching over to the passenger's seat, you rifled through your purse blindly, eyes still on the road, fingers searching and finally finding your phone.
You had to do a double take when you saw it was Joel calling.
Staring at the road, you listened to your phone ring over and over, your finger hovering over the little green button on the touch screen, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It finally stopped ringing and with a sigh of relief, you dropped it into your cup holder.
You knew if you had answered the phone, you would have been irrational. You needed time to think, so you slid the bar down on the side of your phone to silence your calls.
Where the hell was he, anyway? Why wouldn't he have told you he was leaving? And why did Madeline know? If he had time to tell Madeline, he could have had time to tell you, too. You wanted to ask her, but in your hurry to get out after meeting Michelle, you forgot.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your phone light up in the cupholder, and because you had no self control, you picked it up to take a quick peek.
Joel: How did everything go with Maddy?
You scoffed and tossed your phone back into your purse so you wouldn't be tempted to look again until you got home. To force your mind off it, you spent the rest of the drive thinking about Madeline's request to ask your mother to testify. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to call her. Maybe her views have changed. Perhaps she gained some clarity on your situation since you ran. You obviously wouldn't have done that unless things were really bad. Maybe she just didn't realize the severity of the situation.
You really wished you could run this by Joel, but that stubborn part of you absolutely refused.
By the time you arrived home, your muscles sore from sitting in the car for so long, you had decided you would give your mom a call. Just to test the waters. And depending on how it went, you would decide if you wanted to ask her to testify.
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Joel sat in a rental car, staring out the window blankly while he fidgeted with his phone. Why weren't you answering your phone? Maybe you were driving and you couldn't hear it. He was fighting the urge to call Maddy to see if you had made it to Austin in one piece. The only thing holding him back was his concern that she would pick up on something in his voice when he spoke about you. He had told Maddy the two of you were over, and at the time, it was true. But now the lines were blurred and it was becoming difficult for him to hide his feelings. It must be written all over his face. Even you could see it, which terrified him at first, but then you climbed into his lap in his truck and his fear melted away, leaving only his exposed heart and his very real, very intense feelings for you on full display.
Those feelings were exactly why he found himself on the seedy side of downtown Philadelphia, staring at subsidized housing with sirens wailing in the distance. He pulled out the piece of paper from his pocket and checked the address again before tucking his gun into the back of his pants and sliding his shield into his pocket, then opening the car door and stepping out.
It was colder in Pennsylvania than he expected. It wasn't quite snowing, but the wind carried tiny flecks of white. Not enough to accumulate, but enough where he felt the cold deep in his bones. He walked up the path towards the housing unit, glancing around to confirm he was alone before looking back down at the paper in his hand.
Nina Hoffman.
He approached the first unit and scanned the numbers on the doors before moving on, then stopping when he found the correct number and knocking firmly on the door. He turned around, watching as two young men eyed him suspiciously as they walked by. Once they were out of sight, Joel knocked again, louder this time.
"C'mon," he muttered under his breath, then rubbed his hands together, trying to warm up as he waited. He was about to give up when he heard some shuffling on the other side of the door. He straightened up and stepped back, then gave his most charming smile to the small pair of eyes that peered out at him through the crack in the door.
"Afternoon," Joel said with a nod. "Would you happen to be Nina?"
The eyes raked up and down his body and stopped at the bulge on his back.
"Who's asking?" her raspy voice replied.
"Sorry, miss. My name's Joel. Joel Miller. You don't know me, but I think we have someone in common," he replied, her eyes still glued to the gun he had concealed under his coat.
"Who?"
Joel took a deep breath, bracing for her reaction.
"Sergeant Patrick-"
She went to slam the door in his face but he was faster. He stuck his foot in the door as she kept pushing back, trying to apply enough pressure to make him move, but he just wedged himself into the crack further.
"I ain't who you think I am," he said, but Nina ignored him.
"Get the fuck out of here! I dropped the charges!" she cried out, and Joel tried to shush her until he realized fights like this likely happened all the time in areas like this and wouldn't draw as much attention from neighbors.
"I wanna help you! There's more victims!" he told her through gritted teeth as she slammed the door against his leg over and over. At last, she stopped yelling and paused, and he took a deep breath. "I believe you," he continued. "And I think I can help you."
"Move your leg," she told him, and Joel dropped his head in defeat.
"Please, just hear me out-"
"I will. You gotta move your leg so I can undo the goddamn chain," she replied, sounding annoyed.
"Oh, right," Joel said, then pulled his leg out from the crack in the door. She shut it and he heard the metal chain slide through the lock before she twisted the knob again, opening the door wider and revealing herself for the first time. She looked to be around your age, blonde hair that looked like it needed to be washed, and blue eyes that were bloodshot.
"You just gonna stand there or you wanna come inside?" she said, turning on her heel and walking into the apartment, leaving the door wide open. He glanced around behind him once again, still reeling from her change in demeanor, before stepping inside and shutting the door.
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You had been on the phone with your mom for nearly thirty minutes as you stared up blankly at your ceiling, listening to her drone on and on about your aunt and her newest boyfriend. Maybe you should have waited until you were more well rested to call her. The drive back from Austin was exhausting, but in an effort to avoid calling Joel, you called your mother instead. Once she got over the initial surprise, she launched into catching you up on all the drama you had missed, and you were beginning to wonder if she even gave a shit about your well-being. Not once had she asked why you left without a word or even how you were doing. She either didn't care or she already assumed the answers for herself. You weren't sure if it was the exhaustion or all the information that had been thrown at you that day, but for once you decided to stand up for yourself and fucking say something.
"Mom, I called to talk to you. It's important," you said, cutting her off, and she paused on the other end of the phone.
"I figured there was a reason you finally reached out," she replied. You picked up on the edge to her voice and you rolled your eyes. Great start.
"It's about Patrick," you began, not letting her tone sway you.
"What about him, sweetie? Is he doing okay?"
You had to take a deep breath and steady yourself before replying. Is Patrick doing okay?? What about you?
"Actually, no. He's in jail," you said, and she gasped. "For attacking me and another cop in town."
"Attacking? What do you mean?" she asked, and you scoffed.
"Attacking me like he's been doing for years, Mom," you said, sliding your eyes shut.
"Oh honey, you didn't actually call the police on him, did you? I told you, you need to watch what you say. You always have a way of pushing people's buttons, ever since you were little-"
"Mom! Stop!" you shouted, and she immediately went quiet. A dull beep echoed in your ear and you pulled your phone away to look at the screen. Joel was calling again. You clenched your jaw and rejected the call before putting the phone back up to your ear. "This is serious, okay? He raped me. He hits me and emotionally abuses me and I've had enough. I'm pressing charges and we're going to trial soon, and my lawyer wanted me to reach out to you and see if you would be willing to testify on my behalf."
The words rushed out of you faster than you expected, but once they were out in the open, you felt a wave of relief, but the dead silence on the other end of the call made you feel nervous again.
"He has his whole career in front of him. You're really doing this?" she said quietly, and if you didn't know any better, she sounded mad.
"What?" you asked incredulously.
"Everything with you is so dramatic," she said with a sigh. "I don't know what fairy tale you have in your head, but life is tough sometimes. Marriage is tough. It's hard work but you made a commitment to him. His job is very stressful. The last thing he wants is a wife at home who expects flowers and sunshine every time he opens the door."
Your mouth hung open in shock as you listened to her prattle on.
"He went down there to fight for you and this is how you repay him?" she continued as the tears began to burn the backs of your eyes.
"How did you-"
"He provides for you, doesn't he? You don't even have to work. All you need to do is be a homemaker and a mother. Do you know how many women would love to be in your shoes?"
"I never said I wanted any of that," you said, and you heard her scoff on the other end.
"Of course you don't. You've always had some silly fantasies in your head but this is real life. Relationships aren't like the movies. Men aren't looking to trip over themselves to make you happy. Marriage takes work. It's a give and take, and all you ever do is take."
You closed your eyes as the tears began to fall. She was wrong. You wanted to scream it at her, rub it in her face that someone was willing to trip over themselves for you.
"So I take it you won't be testifying on my behalf," you said after a moment of silence.
"You got yourself into this mess, you can get yourself out of it."
Then the line went dead.
You dropped the phone next to you onto the couch and sobbed into the palms of your hands. What did you need to say to make your mother understand? Was there even a point in trying anymore? Maybe Madeline was right. Something must have happened to your mother to make her think this way, because you knew now that love wasn't meant to cause pain.
A month ago, you probably would have believed her. But now, after seeing what Joel was willing to do for you, you knew better.
Suddenly, you felt foolish for reacting the way you did about Michelle. Regret clawed at your ribs as you thought about all the ignored calls and texts from him. Sitting up on the couch, you wiped your nose with the back of your hand and picked up your phone. With shaky fingers, you tapped on his contact and dialed his number, chewing on your bottom lip as the phone rang and rang until you got his voicemail. You hung up without leaving a message, the guilt tearing you in two.
Joel did so much for you and you repaid him by throwing a tantrum because of an old relationship.
As you turned on your TV, flipping through the channels to try to find some mindless show to distract you, hoping Joel would give you another chance and call you back, you thought about your conversation with your mother.
Maybe she was right. Maybe you were too dramatic. Selfish girl.
You just hoped you could still fix it and didn't ruin the only good thing you had going for you.
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Loud pounding on your front door jolted you awake with your heart slamming in your chest. Fear and confusion ripped through you as you sat up and blinked quickly, looking around. You fell asleep on your couch, your TV playing infomercials now as the clock on the wall ticked closer to three in the morning.
The pounding on the door picked up again and you scrambled to your feet. Your first thought was Patrick, but logic slowly seeped into your brain when you remembered he was in a jail cell in Austin.
Gripping your phone tightly in your hand, you cautiously made your way down the stairs, ears straining to listen for any type of hint as to who was on the other side of the door.
You opened the door a crack and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Joel waiting.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed out as he rubbed his chest absentmindedly. You opened the door all the way and sleepily waved him inside. "What the hell? Why aren't you answerin' any of my calls?" he asked, and for the first time you began to pick up on the worry in his voice.
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, looking down at your phone, now noticing he had called and texted you several times since you had fallen asleep. "I tried calling you earlier-"
"I was gettin' on a plane," he said, shutting the door behind him before scooping you into his arms for a hug. "You fuckin' scared me," he whispered into your hair, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
"I'm sorry," you said again, your voice breaking this time. He pulled back and cupped your face, searching your eyes and realizing you were on the verge of tears.
"What happened? Why have you been cryin'?" he asked you softly, his thumbs brushing gently underneath your swollen eyes. You dropped your gaze and shook your head with shame. "C'mon, let's go upstairs, we gotta talk 'bout what's been goin' on."
He tugged on your hand and led you up the steps, tears still burning in your eyes as you tried to hold them back, your eyes scratchy and dry from already crying too much earlier that evening.
"It's so late," you began, but you could see his body was practically vibrating with energy. "Did your plane just get in?"
"Yeah," he said, shrugging off his coat as he began to pace your living room. You sunk back down into your couch, pulling your knees up to your chest as you watched him dart back and forth.
"Where were you, Joel?" you finally asked softly, and he paused in the middle of your living room. "Why didn't you tell me you were leaving town? I was so worried-"
"There wasn't enough time. I had to figure out arrangements for Sarah and reschedule that meeting with her teacher at school... it was all too fast," he rambled, not catching your eye as he spoke.
"You couldn't at least send a text when you were at the airport or something?" you asked, not allowing him to make up excuses. "I had to find out from Maria you were gone. Even Madeline knew-"
"Madeline?" he repeated, finally dragging his eyes up to meet yours. "What'd she say?"
You huffed and crossed your arms, trying to fight the spiteful response that was clawing its way to your lips.
"She didn't tell me anything," you said, watching his face carefully. His gaze drifted away, lost in thought before you added "I just happened to be there when Michelle asked where you were."
Joel's eyes snapped back up to yours in an instant and he felt his stomach twist. You could see the myriad of emotions flitting across his face as he processed what you just said.
"What?" he whispered, his throat tight, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.
"Michelle," you repeated calmly. "Sarah's mom."
His eyes squeezed shut and he rubbed them aggressively with the heels of his palms. He could feel the heat rising from his chest and up his neck, and he tried to take deep breaths to quell the panic, but it was no use.
"Why-" he began to ask but he was finding it difficult to speak. He bent forward at the waist, his hands on his knees as he shook his head from side to side, trying to shake the sudden dizzy spell. He had been up for too long. He didn't eat enough. The altitude from the plane... something was making him feel faint.
"Joel?" you asked, standing up when you noticed something was wrong. You reached your hands out to grip his shoulders, trying to steady him as he struggled to drag in air. "What's going on? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he rasped, but he weakly slumped to the floor in your living room. "Just... dizzy."
"Should I call an ambulance?" you asked, your voice higher than usual. You fumbled with your phone but he managed to reach out and grab your arm.
"No, just... water," he told you, and you jumped up, racing to the kitchen for a bottle of water. You shakily unscrewed the cap and joined him on the floor, bringing the bottle to his lips and letting him take slow sips until his vision cleared and his breathing returned to normal.
You nervously watched him, your phone still ready to call for paramedics if he passed out, but the color slowly began to return to his face the more water he managed to drink. You inched forward, your hands hovering over him, not sure what to do.
"What was that?" you whispered, and he took a deep breath and shook his head.
"I don't know."
You nodded, your lips forming a tight line as you kept a close eye on him. Minutes ticked by as you waited for him to do something or say something, too worried to say anything yourself and risk causing another episode. Scooting closer to him on the floor, you rubbed his back, and his eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into your touch.
"Why was Michelle there?" he finally asked, eyes still shut.
"She came into my meeting with Madeline. She wanted to meet me and she asked about you," you told him, dropping the attitude now.
"But why was she... there? She doesn't work there, she works at a firm on the other side of the city," he said, finally opening his eyes and then it dawned on you: of course he didn't keep her a secret from you. He didn't even know himself.
"She's a partner there," you said, swallowing nervously as the guilt gnawed away at your insides. "She said you didn't tell me so I wouldn't feel indebted to you since they took my case pro bono."
"What?" he asked angrily as he furrowed his brow. "That's not true. I had no fuckin' clue, you gotta believe me-"
"I believe you," you told him, your hand sliding to the back of his neck. His gaze drifted to a blank spot on the wall as he struggled to catch up with the new information you just dumped on him.
"No wonder you were ignorin' me," he mumbled, and you felt your face heat up, embarrassed for acting like such a child and not just asking him about it in the first place.
"I'm so sorry, Joel," you said, tears welling up in your eyes again. "I really did try to call you earlier. I should have heard you out before getting all jealous and nasty."
"Don't be jealous," he said, locking eyes with you again. "Nothin' to be jealous 'bout. That ship with her sailed years ago." He brought his hand up to gently pinch your chin and gave you a small smile. "Haven't even spoken to her in years. I got no idea why she'd even want to see me."
Leaning forward, you gently slotted your lips over his, breathing in deep and inhaling his familiar scent. The same scent you chased after it faded from your sheets.
"You gotta talk to me, baby," he reminded you quietly after he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours.
"I know, I'm sorry," you told him, a single tear trickling down your cheek. "Today was so awful and I just missed you so much."
"C'mere," he murmured, pulling you into his lap, your face burying itself into his neck.
"Where were you?" you asked him again, realizing for the first time he never answered you, and he took a deep breath.
"Philadelphia."
Your eyes went wide and you flung yourself upright in his lap.
"What? Why?"
He caressed your chin and gave you a sad look, his eyes red and tired as his shoulders weakly slumped forward.
"There's other victims."
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dumplingsfordays · 30 days
Text
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the phone call
pairing - Megumi x fem!reader
genre - smut
summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.
cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge
note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33
art credit!
and as always, thank you for reading :))
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-
Bzzt. Bzzt.
The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.
"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."
Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"
"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."
God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.
"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."
You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-
He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.
God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!
...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.
"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."
"Yeah?"
He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.
"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"
"Ah, no, I'm just..."
Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.
"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."
There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.
"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."
He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"
"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."
You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?
"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."
"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."
His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.
"I'd... I'd love to."
He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.
"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."
You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.
"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."
Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.
"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"
Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--
"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"
He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.
"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"
"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."
You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.
"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."
"What?"
His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.
"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."
"Can we..."
Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.
"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."
"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.
"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.
You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.
"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.
You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.
"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."
You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?
"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."
"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."
His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"
You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.
As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.
"This was... ah, certainly something..."
You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.
"Indeed it was."
"...But we're still going on that date, right?"
Megumi laughs. "Obviously."
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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months
Note
Ahhhh I hope you take in smutt requests cause I got an idea 🙏
Vox eating out the reader while they are sitting on his face <3 but suddenly his screen cracks
Smutt turned funny or smth hihi
Also would be very fun if reader was afab but like with gn pronouns
Glass Breaks
Vox x gn!afab!Reader
NSFW WARNING HERE! MINORS DNI!
A/N: I've seen some posts going around talking about Vox and an S/O that had some... mishaps- during a face sitting session and I am LIVING for it. Granted I wrote this really late so I don't know if it'll be any good or if Vox is a little OOC but I hope you enjoy it anon!
Vox had a pretty rough day.
Dealing with his company, reporters, the other Vees-
He wanted nothing more than to just collapse in your arms and forget the day's stresses.
Instead, he came back to an extremely sexy surprise.
He'd taken his coat off, hanging it by the door as he strolled in and looked for you.
The dead silence was quite rare when it came to you.
Hell, he expected you to just be waiting by the door with your arms outstretched for a hug as always.
But the second he'd opened the bedroom door, Vox quickly wished he'd done so sooner.
You were laying on his bed in some lingerie, a sheer robe leaving nothing to the imagination.
Not that he was at all complaining!
Vox couldn't tear his eyes away the second he stepped in.
You knew he was entranced, the tech overlord often was when you gave him surprises.
Wholesome ones or not.
It also went without saying that you loved tempting him.
So definitely his libido shot through the roof when you teased him further, making a "come hither" motion that had your beloved's screen overheating.
Va Va VOOM BABY-
The fans in his head quickly kicked on to high gear as a blush quickly settled on his face.
Despite that, an eager smile wormed onto his face as he made his way over to you.
Not willing to let just anyone stroll in however, accident or not, Vox of course locked the door.
"Tough day~?"
"If I get to come home to this? Makes it all worth it."
You cooed as your neck was peppered with gentle kisses and nips.
It wasn't rare for Vox to be this soft with you in bed, but you garnered it was probably because he was tired.
Oftentimes if he needed to release stress he'd just fuck you silly into the mattress no matter what you were wearing.
You were kind of expecting the same today really, hearing his ranting over the phone just a few hours prior-
Even so, this wasn't too far fetched of a scenario either.
On the other hand, if he was tired?
He would just service you until you were sated.
Then you both could have a passionate round two in the morning.
You exchanged gentle kisses with Vox while he did away with your clothes.
His claws carefully grazing your skin as he groped so he wouldn't hurt you.
A shiver ran up your spine as one of his claws rubbed against your slit.
Your panties even gained a damp spot from all his ministrations.
Vox only chuckled at the revelation, pulling away from the kiss to gaze at your flustered expression.
He loved making a mess of you, it was extremely fun and exhilarating knowing that only he could do this to you and nobody else.
Leaning over to whisper in your ear, his claws gently caressed your sides.
"I wanna try something, follow my lead?"
"Of course."
And that's how you found yourself in this current situation.
Sitting on your boyfriend's screen while he voraciously ate you out.
Vox honestly couldn't even get enough of your moans.
You cried his name out so much he wouldn't dare forget it now.
His hands held down your hips while his tongue worked wonders.
He was just totally drowning in you when you sat on his face.
Why didn't he think of doing this before?
Usually he'd be above you if he was giving oral but honestly this works too.
Of course- there was a really good reason why you shouldn't be sitting on his face.
Which was further proven when you heard a small cracking sound before losing yourself in the throes of passion.
Both of you froze in shock from the sound before you slowly got off Vox and your suspicions had been proven right.
His poor screen had a crack running along the edge where you were leaning most of your weight.
Your beloved only raised a hand to feel his screen to confirm what he'd been guessing before groaning in frustration.
Vox just promptly wrapped himself up in a blanket cocoon annoyed and embarrassed.
So much for that, not to mention the mood was gone.
You couldn't help but giggle at just how random it all was.
Oh well, it just wasn't meant to be.
That didn't help Vox's grumpiness at all.
"It's not funny doll."
He tiredly muttered, you didn't think he'd be so defeated by such a small thing.
Then again, maybe it wasn't exactly a small thing for him.
You shifted closer to your TV lover and lightly tugged at the blankets until he looked at you.
His eyebrows were pressed together in what you could only describe as annoyance.
Though it quickly dissipated when you started just lightly leaving kisses all over his screen.
Being mindful of the cracks that you inadvertently caused of course.
"Wh- Wait- (Y/N) what are you- mmPHF-"
You quickly shut him up with another sweet kiss, pulling away to gently stroke the side of his head.
"It's okay hun, really. We tried, and well- now we know why you're not supposed to sit on a flatscreen TV-"
Vox half-heartedly groaned at your attempt at hilarity, flipping you both over and tickling you in retribution for such a poorly landed joke.
Your joyful laugher was more than enough to sweep away his annoyance and irritation at his hardware durability failing.
Afterwards, he held you close for cuddles until the next morning where he'd inevitably have to go and get his screen repaired.
Though that was trouble for tomorrow's him to deal with.
Bonus:
Valentino wasn't the only one who noticed the condition of his colleagues' glass screen during a meeting.
Well it's not as bad as it could possibly be, but a cracked screen was a cracked screen.
"Geez, what happened to you? Did you get into a fight with the missus yesterday?"
"Uh... something like that."
815 notes · View notes
kookslastbutton · 9 months
Text
Love's Remedy, On Fire ༓ jjk (m) l ch. I
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✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.
Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader
AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 3,027
Warnings: jk is very cute and determined, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), oc is not mean here but she teases jk, feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!
Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+
A/N: um ok I swear this was supposed to be a pwp crack fic about jk wanting to get laid with a hat on. This turned into a very angsty but fluffy series and I'm sorry 😬 lmk what you think and tysm for reading! 💞 I know title is sucky
ch. lI >> | series masterlist
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Over the entirety of his nineteen years, Jungkook was pushed to prepare for one thing—college entrance exams.
It was a huge deal and getting into one of the leading universities in South Korea was a must for him. You see, the Jeons were nobody to laugh at with the bulk of them being high-ranking medical doctors, engineers, and lawyers. Continuing this legacy, therefore, was far from a choice, Jungkook had to follow suit.
When the results of the exams came back Jungkook passed with flying colors. It wasn't a surprise though since he spent all his time studying his ass off until the dawn. Jungkook indeed got accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in Seoul and his parents, teachers, and friends were quick to give their congratulations. He felt good too...no, he felt damn good.
Now he was here he was, standing in the middle of campus with his bag slung over one shoulder and a few orientation papers in his hand. It was still the first week of classes and he desperately needed to get to the science building. (He had chosen to follow his father's footsteps and go into biochem).
"Excuse me," he asks with nervous eyes and a wobbling lip. "Do you happen to know where the science building is? I'm late for class but I can't seem to find it."
The student he walks up to for directions looks about his age. He isn't sure if she's in her first year like him but she looks competent with the way she's standing, feet spread apart and a hand on her hip. The skirt she's sporting is incredibly short but the top is full length. She's smacking on hot pink gum as well, popping bubbles every now and then.
"Keep walking straight until you see the statue of President Kim, then take a right. The science building will be right there." You hardly spare him a glance but you make the mental note that he's cute with his fluffy black hair and big lost eyes. You consider asking his name but you shrug the feeling. He was cute yes, but he was too cute which isn't your type.
Jungkook gives a small thank you and walks off. Your directions are vague, but hopefully finding the statue will help him. After a few steps, he looks over his shoulder to see you laughing with your friend.
You have a gorgeous smile.
Probably the last time he'll see you though, he thinks. Jungkook isn't sure how he'd be with a woman given the fact he's never been with one. Surely he'd do better than half the dumbasses out there but guys like him don't stand a chance with a woman like you.
You look like you go for the experienced type and that wasn't him. He goes back to what he was doing, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
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"Hey man, what's your name?" A young guy with bleached blonde hair slides into the seat next to him. Apparently, he wasn't the only one late. "I'm Jackson." The man goes in for a fist bump but stops when it's very obvious it won't be reciprocated.
"I'm Jungkook," he says, more concentrated on what his professor is saying than anything else. Jackson continues talking, however, despite his focused state.
"So, I'm assuming this is your first year?" Jungkook nods. "Me too. Where you from?"
"Busan."
"Cool cool, I'm from Hong Kong." Hearing this makes Jungkook shift his eyes over immediately. The last thing he expected was to meet someone from China. Was this Jackson dude just pulling his leg or was he being serious? Nevertheless, it intrigues him.
"I'm an exchange student." Jackson clarifies. "Always wanted to see what South Korea was like and I know Seoul's got a pretty thriving economy so..." He shrugs. "Figured I'd give it a go and my parents support it. As long as I stay on my doctor's track of course."
Well damn. A doctor was not what Jungkook assumed a guy like Jackson would be going for. This was a prestigious school but it's still a gen ed class they're in right now. Anyone from most majors could be taking it. If he had to guess, Jackson would be a businessman.
"Well enough about me though," Jackson quips. "What do you study?"
"Biochem. My dad works as a physician and my mom's a chemical engineer. I'm going for pharmacology."
"Shit bro," Jackson cusses freely. Jungkook doesn't mean to jump in response but he does. Being all formal talk at home, it's unventured territory. "You guys must be a family of geniuses. Wait...what's your last name?"
"Jeon?"
Jackson nearly falls back in his chair when he hears the name fall from Jungkook's lips. He covers his mouth with both hands to keep himself under wraps. "Are you serious? You're from the Jeon family? Fuck, man, I've been hearing about your family since I was a kid that's how influential your family has been in the medical industry."
Jungkook finds himself intertwining his hands. His family is well-established in what they do but it never occurred to him that they were that well-known. Sure his dad's been featured in a couple of magazines for his work and his mom's been given several awards for her research. But he didn't think they'd gone that publicly beyond their own town.
"Oh shit I'm sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable talking about this? Promise you I'm not a creep or anything!" The urgency in Jackson's tone stirs up the classroom, peers looking over at the two of them in annoyance.
"Do you mind shutting up?" A chestnut-haired boy is the first to speak up. He looks thoroughly pissed, to say the least with his cat-like eyes narrowing at the both of them. "Some of us actually want to graduate here."
"Chill out man. We're sorry." Jackson gives Jungkook a small tight-lipped smile. "We'll talk later."
"We will?"
Jackson gives him a slap on the back. "Yeah it's a given. You and I," he gestures between the two of them. "We should stick together. Being that we're both new around here and we both studying med. Also, was going to wait to tell you but I wanna go to this awesome party that goes on that kicks off the year. You'd think I'd be confident to go by myself but if you're free, I could use a buddy."
A party. Some blonde-haired boy who could very likely become the center of attention wants him, Jeon Jungkook, to go to a party? Jungkook spends most of his time playing video games, studying chem tables, and watching p—well he shouldn't say that part out loud.
"If you don't want to then I get it." Jackson scratches his head. "I don't wanna pressure you or anything. We did just meet and I just thought you looked cool so...."
"Okay." Jungkook accepts before giving it much thought. Besides studying, he was told college was a time to also let loose and have fun. Freedom and all that. That's what his friends back home told him at least. They also mentioned getting laid but...who would give him that fat chance?
If anything, maybe he'll get a friend by going to this little party. Jungkook shoots a small smile in return.
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"Okay listen," Jackson says, opening the door to his black Lexus. "I heard this party gets crazy so just be smart and don't get into too much punch."
Jungkook hops in the passenger seat. "But I love punch." He straps his seatbelt in, totally unaware of the punch Jackson"s referring to.
"It's spiked Kook. And I'm guessing your alcohol tolerance is pretty low?" Jackson twists the key and pulls out of the campus parking lot. He doesn't mean to be insulting or anything but his new buddy doesn't look like the party-hardy kinda guy.
In fact, Jungkook decided to....well, wear a hat to this gig. It's not a baseball cap, beanie, or even a greasy cowboy hat.
It's a sunhat. Black at least.
"By the way Jungkook. I don't wanna sound like a dick or anything but can you explain the thing on your head? Because the rest of you looks great, black dress shirt and jeans."
"Oh um." Jungkook rubs his hands on his thighs. He's embarrassed to tell Jackson the truth but he's his buddy now, right? Maybe this can be a bonding thing for them. "I thought it was cute? I mean I wanna...ah." Jungkook lets out a nervous chuckle.
"What is it, man? I promise I won't judge."
"I wanna," he starts again. "Uhm you see I heard that if you wear something out of the ordinary that people will like you more or something. Like they'll be interested..."
"Mhm, cute and out of the ordinary things huh? What kind of people are you trying to impress Jungkook?" Jackson gives a knowing smirk. Who knew his buddy schemes these kinds of stuff.
Jungkook speeds through the answer. "Grs."
"Say it properly and slower."
"Wanna get a girl....woman! I mean...a woman." Jungkook sheepishly grins at Jackson. Please don't laugh at me, he begs silently.
"You dog!" Jackson pushes Jungkook's shoulder. "My little buddy is a man, well well well. So are you looking for a girlfriend or something else?"
"Wife!" Jungkook bugs out his eyes, no hesitation at all. Jackson struggles not to give even the slightest snort. Didn't Jungkook know what kind of party this is?
"That's very sweet but this isn't the place you're going to find a wife, Jungkook. That's more like if we were going to a speed dating thing....this, this is a frat party, little bro."
Jackson pulls up to the front of the giant, lit-up house. They could hear electronic music blasting outside and all over the lawn were shirtless guys and scantily-dressed women. Some were off making out while others were drinking in groups.
Jungkook tenses at the sight. He used to fancy black tie parties where everyone is dressed to the hill and drinking is moderate. Jackson is right, he is not finding a wife here. Dammit. But he really doesn't want to give up his hat.
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"Yo Jackson," a guy with pitch-black hair greets the man with a fist bump. So that's how it's done, Jungkook observes. "Glad you could make it!"
"Jae-beom, what's good man?! I wouldn't miss this party for the world. I brought a friend." He ushers Jungkook to come forward. "This is Jungkook. He's in my class."
"Nice to meet you Jungkook!" Jae-beom moves in for a fist bump which ends up making contact with Jungkook's fist. It's not as sharp as with Jackson but it's a fist bump. "I used to work with Jackson over the summer. Always stealing my tips this man!"
"Hey, I did not do that!" Jackson gives a hearty laugh and shoves Jae-beom hard enough for him to lose his balance a little. "You kept leaving for a smoke. I had to wait your tables half the time!"
"I wasn't going for a smoke Jack—woah hey baby. What's your name?" The man shifts his focus to the girl walking past them. She has bright red lipstick, a black crop top, and jean shorts.
"Fuck off." She snaps before looking at Jungkook. "Cute hat by the way."
Everyone looks at Jungkook at that moment who's motionless. They hope to god he says something back but he only stares. The girl smirks at him and quirks her head to the side. "What's your name? I gotta friend who'd be all over you in a heartbeat, though she'd never admit it."
Jackson throws a mouth over his hand, eyes wide in amusement. This girl did not just propose Jungkook, his buddy who's looking for a wife, to get off with her friend.
"Um...yeah no. No, it's okay but thanks." Jungkook can barely sound the words. This girl in front of him was really, really hot but intimidating. "Yes thank you but I'm looking for a..."
"Don't-" Jackson lunges forward.
"Wife." Jungkook smiles at the girl a little too angelically. "I'm Jungkook though. What's your name?"
The girl bites her lip. "Well, it's too bad then Jungkook. Because you're so fucking cute and I know you'd like each other. Why don't you meet her? Even if it's just to say hi?"
Jungkook looks at Jackson who only shrugs. "Up to you man."
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Jungkook makes his way through the heavy crowd. He bumps into a few people on the way but thankfully he's able to still see the girl, apparently who goes by Crystal.
Jungkook isn't convinced it's her real name but if that's what she wants to be called who is he to dispute?
Once they get to the other side of the room, Jungkook spots a woman with a tight black dress on. It falls mid-thigh and has laced-up sides. When they near the woman Jungkook feels himself sweating bullets.
"__!" Crystal taps on your shoulder. "I brought you, someone, to meet. This is Jungkook!"
You turn around, drink in hand. You look fucking stunning. Jungkook can't believe it's you. He's seeing you again and he wishes he didn't wear this damn hat now! He goes to yank it off but Crystal stops him.
"Hey, the hat's cute. Keep it on!"
"I-but," he looks at you. "But it's making me hot." You're making me hot.
You give a shrug. "Do what you want Jungkook. It's your head at stake." You take a sip of your drink. You really did not expect to see the shy guy from this morning be at a frat party. "Good to see you again."
"Oh, you know each other?"
"We had a slight run in this morning. Baby had to get to the science building." You take a scan at what he's wearing. Black shirt that cuts at the elbows, denim jeans, and sneakers. Not bad compared to the sweater he was wearing this morning.
"I'm—I'm not a baby." Jungkook can't stop himself from feeling offended. Whether you meant it to be condescending or not, he doesn't want to be seen as a baby! Especially not to you. "I'm a man, okay? I go to the gym and stuff."
"Okay I'm sorry," you say. "I just call everyone baby. I didn't mean anything."
That doesn't seem to relax Jungkook. "I can lift a fuck ton of weights too." He stops once he hears himself cuss out loud. Usually, he does that in his head....goddamn it.
"Mmm," you step towards him, careful not to touch him. Usually by now you'd already be in the bathroom getting railed by some punk but not tonight. Jungkook has your attention. "Can you now? I'm not sure if I believe you. You're kind of a twig, not to be rude or anything."
Jungkook's face turns to a darker shade, eyes piercing into yours. "I can show you I'm not lying."
"Go ahead, do what you will." You fake a yawn until you find yourself suddenly in his arms. They're a lot stronger and more muscular than you thought. "Jungkook! Put me down!"
Everyone at the party starts staring over, giggling at each other. Jungkook gives a satisfied grin. "I have you in my arms, what are you gonna do now? Not believe me again?"
"I-" You're certain your face glowing with embarrassment. "Um no, I believe you Jungkook. Please, set me down."
"Not til you say it --." He challenges-brat. "Say I'm not a baby."
"Jungkook I told you I call everyone baby. It wasn't-okay you're not a baby. Obviously, you lift a lot now please put me down."
Finally, he does what you ask, a proud face on. His hat is a little crooked so you reach out and fix it. It's a reflexive response, you don't even know what you're doing let alone Jungkook.
"Oh, sorry your hat was just-"
"Please go out with me. On a date I mean?" He's so terribly timid but he can't help himself now. He had you in his arms and you're just so beautiful and charming. He needs to know more about you. It's a must.
"Well, I-" Everyone waits for your answer, very nosy clearly. You look at Jungkook with his big eyes and pouty lips. You don't wanna say no but relationships aren't your thing. And it seems that is defiantly all he's in for.
Jungkook's shoulders sulk. He isn't expecting a yes but he was hoping that maybe you'd give him a tiny chance.
"Come on __," Crystal whispers. "Look at him. Don't you think he's cute? Like really cute?"
You look at your best friend with weary eyes. He's so cute but, there's that but. That relationship but. He's going to be the type to want to do all the couple things and snuggle and everything. Jungkook needs someone who is willing to do all the stuff and you? You're not good at any of it.
"I'm sorry Jungkook," you start. "I don't know if-"
"One date __. If it's a no I won't bother you again. I just....I just think you're really gorgeous and I wanna get to know you. That's all." He takes the hat off his head, letting his fluffy hair run free. You kinda wanna touch it if it didn't makes things weird.
His words, however, make your heart thump the tiniest amount. The only time you've ever been called gorgeous is when guys try to get in your bed. It's all you've known other than maybe from a relative. Gorgeous is used pretty regularly, you know that, but this time it's used in an entirely different context.
"I'll tell you what," he says, pulling out his phone. "I'll give you my number and if you change your mind text me or call. I won't bug you and you can delete it right after this if you want, I promise."
You end up taking his number and Jungkook leaves to go back to his buddies. "You should go out with him __," Crystal says.
"I don't know." You watch him stride away. "I'll think about it."
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A/N: what am i doing? Idk im running away now bye! lmk what you think and tysm for reading! Comment/ask to be on taglist 💞
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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pretty-red-garnet · 5 months
Text
Cracked Lips Give The Best Kisses
Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader • Prison • Fluff
Thank you so much for the request @cant-help-simping! I really enjoyed writing this one, so I hope you like reading it. Also, I know I have one more request, but I’m writing a part 2 to Brothers and having wayyy too much fun. So that’ll probably be out first lol.
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Daryl was an observer. He was always looking, even if nobody noticed. That was especially true when it came to you, his partner, his lover, his light. 'Girlfriend' never seemed like the correct term when it came to you. It was too simple, not strong enough to define the bond he has with you.
     One day, when he was lying next to you in your shared cot, he had confessed to you that you were the one good thing in his life. That you're the light in his life that keeps him going. It made his stomach flip, being so open and vulnerable to another person. But then, you smiled so brightly and beautifully. He makes sure to call you sweet names all the time now, even if it makes his face flush and his throat dry.
     Daryl's always watching, and as of late, it seems his light is dimming. You've been busier lately, more responsibilities. The prison was thriving after taking in the people of Woodbury, and that was thanks to you and the council you were apart of. You helped to plan runs, scout places to check, devise ways to keep the fence secure and walkers away. You were pretty much wherever people needed help. You're always a holler away.
     And it's taking everyone out of you.
     Daryl could see it. How drained you are at the end of the day. Or how you almost never have time to join him on hunts or supply runs, because you're too busy planning the next one. How maps and planners took up too much of your side of the nightstand. Perhaps the most obvious detail to Daryl was how your lips had been in even rougher shape lately.
     Your habit was one of the first things Daryl noticed about you. Even back when he first met you at the quarry, your lips always seemed to be bitten and cracked, even though you always had some flavored lip balm sticking out of your pocket.
     It seemed to happen most when you weren't realizing. When your head was stuck in a book, or when you were thinking deeply and zoning out, your fingers would always make their way to pick at your lips. Your fingers would run over the cracked skin until they were bleeding and blood was clinging to the underside of your nails.
They were bad on the road, after the farm had gone up in flames. It was a dry winter, undoubtedly making you lips even more rough. The stress of everything made you resort to picking at them even more. It was a nasty, viscous cycle. Daryl had always made sure to give you chapsticks when he found them in gas stations.
You, and your lips, got much better for a short time. The short time of peace, after the battle with the governor, but before your responsibilities began to pile on and drown you.
Even now, your picking and biting at your dry lips while laying in bed with him. There's a fresh sore right in the middle of your bottom lip, and you absentmindedly pick at in as you write notes in your planner. Daryl can see fresh blood droplets form, quickly sticking to the skin on your thumb.
"You're doin' it again," Daryl says, quietly not to disturb others that may be sleeping in the nearby cells. It's late now.
You don't answer. Your brows furrow and you let out an aggravated sigh as you scratch something out on your planner. Daryl huffs, gently pulling your fingers from your lips.
"What?" You ask. You look at Daryl beside you, and you almost look like you just remembered he was there.
"Pickin' at your damn lips again." He swipes his thumb over your lip, gently and lovingly. You smile and kiss his thumb lightly. "Have you been usin' that chapstick?"
You hum and smile sheepishly at him. Daryl huffs again, narrowing his eyes.
"Well I finished one, and I had another but I gave it to Beth." You shrug.
"You gotta stop puttin' everyone else before you," he complains. You scoff and playfully poke his side.
"Look who's talking." He rolls his eyes. "Mr. 'I'm immune doing anything for myself' Dixon." He nudges you with his elbow.
"Yeah, yeah smartass." He plucks the planner from your hands and lays it on your side table, ignoring your annoyed 'hey!' "Time for sleep. You can work more tomorrow."
You sigh again, and open your mouth to argue, but you can’t when Daryl yanks you down the bed by your hips. You giggle when your head meets the pillow, staring up at Daryl towering above you.
Daryl leans down and kisses your lips softly, not wanting to irritate what he is sure is already a painful set of lips. You hum into his mouth, pulling him onto you further by his shoulders. Your fingertips caress the scars on his back, but he doesn't mind. He leans back and looks into your eyes.
"I love you," he says, lowly. His fingers brush against your cheek, his callouses slightly scratch at your smooth skin.
"I love you, too," you say, smiling as bright as the sun.
Daryl gets up from the bed slowly and carefully, trying his best not to wake you. It's early, the dim light of the early morning sun can ever so slightly be seen through the curtain that's working as a door to the cell.
     Daryl gets dressed quickly and quietly. He's just throwing on a shirt when he hears you stir. He pauses and looks at you just in time for you to open your eyes. They're bleary and you rub them and look at Daryl confused.
     "Where're you going? It's early," you ask, voice quiet and sleep ridden.
     "Run. I'll be back in a few hours," he says in a whisper, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. You smile, nod sleepily and settle back into your pillow. Daryl's lip quirks at the sight, and turns towards the cell door.
     "Wait," you say, sounding more awake. "You don't have a run today. The next scheduled run isn't for three days from now." Daryl juts his chin towards the nightstand.
     "Check your planner." You eye him scrutinizingly and sit up, grabbing your planner from the table. You flip open the book to the correct date, narrowing your eyes when you see the written notes on the page.
"Really?" You ask, turning the book to show Daryl. On the planner, below your neat and concise letters, is anything but your handwriting.
In a messy, chicken scratch like scrawl, is two words. 'Supply run.' No notes next to it, no details, not even a location. Just Daryl's messy handwriting. The difference in handwritings and planning details on the page is more drastic than night and day.
"Where are you really going?" You ask again, your brows furrowed in a questioning manner. Daryl shrugs.
"Like your book says." You click your tongue at him. If your eyes were any more narrow, they'd be closed completely.
"Uh huh," you hum, crossing your arms. "Are you cheating on me? Is it a hot date you're going on?" Your tone is teasing, a smirk on your lips.
"Yeah, she's a real looker, too."
"I bet." Daryl hums and takes a seat on the bed, making you curl your legs up for him to have room.
"She's real sexy," he begins. "Slick, too. She makes my heart race, and she's got this great body." Daryl sighs. "Only thing, she's pretty loud."
You look confused. Your mouth is slightly agape, the small cuts on your lips on full display. Suddenly, it's like something hits you, and you tilt your head at him.
"Daryl," you start, a slight sigh after. "Are you describing your bike to me right now?"
Daryl's lips pull to a smirk. You shake your head, a smile bursting to your face. You laugh and smack his shoulder lightly, pushing him off the bed.
"You're ridiculous!" You exclaim once he's off the bed. "Ok, go on your hot date with your bike." You giggle again, getting cozy under the covers. Daryl bends at the waist to give you a long kiss to the cheek. He pulls away after a moment and smooths your hair back.
"I'll be back soon," he says, standing completely and taking a step towards the door.
"Be careful," you say, tired eyes already starting to shut.
"Always am."
     Daryl's back at the prison a few hours later. As it turns out, the items he was trying to find proved to be quite difficult to locate. He refused to go back empty handed, so he made a few extra stops. By the time he made it back, the sun was just beginning to dip behind the tree line, the sky an array of pinks and oranges.
     He clutches a brown paper bag under his arm and makes his way to you. He makes a quick pit stop to the area of the cell block that's used as a kitchen, handing off a couple small items to Beth.
     The girl is playing with Judith on the floor, who's laughing and fumbling with Carl's hat. Beth smiles brightly at Daryl and gives him her thanks. He just tilts his head in a quick nod and climbs up the stairs to your shared cell.
     "Daryl!" You exclaim. You're standing in the middle of the small room, probably just paused from pacing. "Where have you been? God, I was worried." You briskly walk to him to grab him in a strong hug.
     "'M sorry," he mutters into your hair. "Thought I'd be quicker." You nod into his chest before pulling back.
     "Where were you?" Daryl retracts his arm from around your back to retrieve the brown bag under his arm. He hands it to you with a shy half-smile.
     You grab the bag, a puzzled look on your face. It's a small, brown paper bag, the kind used by pharmacies for giving out medication. Except this one has a large, tacky looking red bow stuck haphazardly to the center to hold the bag closed.
     "What's this?" You ask. Daryl shrugs.
"S'for you. Open it up," he encourages. You look at him with an adorable little frown. He nudges the bag. "Come on."
You give him one last glance before finally opening the bag. You push back the folded top and peer into it, your mouth parts. You look up at Daryl with a shocked expression.
You move to your bed and pour the contents out on the mattress. The center of the mattress fills with the gifts. There's lip balms, glosses, oils. Lip masks, sugar scrubs, hydrating ointments. They all come in an array of flavors, and some are even tinted.
     "Daryl... I don't even know what to say," you mutter, in shock staring at the pile of lip care items on the bed. You turn to him, a huge smile on your face. Daryl shrugs, embarrassed by your reaction.
     "Don't gotta say nothin'." You shake your head, rushing to him to throw your arms around his shoulders. He returns the embrace immediately, smiling into your hair.
     "You didn't have to do all that," you say, pressed against his chest. "But thank you." You lift your head to look into his eyes.
     "Welcome." You brush your hand through his overgrown hair, pushing back the strays that obscure his face. "And I gave some to Beth already, so don't be givin' those away."
     "Ok," you say with a little scoff. "Deal, I won't, I promise." You bring your fingers down to caress his cheek before pulling away.
     You pick through the pile before snatching up a lip oil. It's clear, and it smells like vanilla. You put some on, rub your lips together, and smack your lips dramatically. You turn to Daryl with a big grin.
     "How does it look?" You ask, puckering your lips teasingly at him.
     "Looks great," he says, a smirk forming. "But I'd rather see how it tastes."
You roll your eyes, but the smile playing on your shimmery lips shows you aren’t annoyed in the slightest. You oblige to Daryl, stepping over to him to plant a big, loving, sticky kiss to his lips.
928 notes · View notes
lesbianrobin · 8 months
Text
you were warm when everything was cold
5,470 words
lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric
Lucas can't stop staring.
“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”
Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”
Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”
Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.
“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.
“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”
“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”
Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”
“And I earned my letterman.”
Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”
“How's that?”
“Well, you like to sew.”
“It's a basic life skill!”
“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”
Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”
Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.
Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”
“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”
“I provide.”
“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”
Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.
Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”
Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.
“Uh, for me or for you?”
“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”
It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”
Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.
There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.
Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.
Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.
And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.
Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.
It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.
Right now, half of them are asleep.
Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.
Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.
But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?
Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.
He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.
His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?
So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.
Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.
His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.
So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.
“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”
“What?”
“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”
She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.
“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”
Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.
“You're sweet.”
He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.
God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.
Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
“Huh?”
Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.
“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”
“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.
“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”
“Answer what?”
Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.
“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”
"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.
“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”
God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.
“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”
He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.
“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.
As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.
When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?
It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.
Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.
“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.
Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.
Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.
“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”
She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.
“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”
Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”
Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.
Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”
She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.
“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”
Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.
“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.
Mike sighs his agreement.
Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”
All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.
“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.
“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”
“Kill yourself,” Mike says.
“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”
“Thanks.”
Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.
“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.
Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.
“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.
“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”
“I'll get over it. You had a point.”
“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”
“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”
“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”
Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”
“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”
“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”
“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”
“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”
“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”
Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”
“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”
Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.
“You love me?”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”
“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”
“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”
“Oh, shut up, I love you.”
“Ardently?”
“If that means a whole lot.”
“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”
Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”
“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”
Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.
When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.
He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.
Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.
He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.
Steve fought off the Demogorgon.
He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.
Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.
Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.
According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?
When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.
Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.
God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.
If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?
“You seem lighter.”
“Hm?”
Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”
Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.
“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.
“And you're not gonna dump me?”
Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”
She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”
“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.
“So, you’re not…”
“No.”
“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”
Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”
“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”
“What? I don’t—”
Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”
“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”
Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”
“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”
She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”
Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”
“High praise.”
“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.
“I wanted this,” he mumbles.
“This?”
He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”
“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.
“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”
“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”
“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.
“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”
“I learn!”
“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”
Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.
Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”
“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”
He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”
Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.
Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”
“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”
“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.
“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”
“You had stuff on hold?”
Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.
She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.
“Surprise!”
Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.
“I love you.”
Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”
“Yes, shut up!”
She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”
“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”
“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.
Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.
“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.
“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.
As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.
Max will keep him tethered.
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fruithoughts · 1 month
Text
⪩⪨ Family Adams!Ateez ♡ GirlyPop!Reader ⪩⪨
cw: multiple possessive and slightly derogatory pet names, smut? probably?, VERY suggestive <- like real suggestive, jealousy, possessive behaviour, pathetic behaviour, they're losers in love, creepy behaviour? in the very end of yunho's segment, complicated feelings, poly relationship
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— Gomez!Hongjoong who gets so angry whenever his brother Wednesday!Wooyoung keeps leaving his sweetheart's neck full of angry, possessive purple marks, his princess is HIS, and whoever else has the privilege of being allowed to do so much as touch her should treat her as what she is, someone else’s most precious possession which ultimately doesn't belong to them.
— Gomez!Hongjoong who only allows his boys to touch her at all because his many centuries of living within this dark mansion has proved to him that they’re the only men in this world, other than himself, who are deserving of being around his angel.
— Gomez!Hongjoong who sometimes gets too jealous and considers taking away the boy’s "touching the princess" privileges, but as soon as he thinks of how much she likes them he stops entertaining that idea immediately because he would rather force himself to ignore his possessive tendencies than to see his sweet girl upset over something he did.
— Gomez!Hongjoong who only allows his pup into his office so he can keep an eye on her somewhere he knows nobody else in the house would dare to come in, they know better. Who bought a fluffy white rug and a vintage pink armchair to put in the middle of his big office, right in front of his desk, so he could watch his lovely petal wasting the afternoon away watching things on her phone or reading a novel the whole day, all his to watch, all his to use and break, all his to keep on his lap while he’s working late at night, all his.
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— Morticia!Hwa who woke up in tears in the middle of the night because he had a nightmare about God herself coming down to take their angel away from them and back to heaven, claiming that it was a mistake that she fell on earth and now she's taking her back.
— Poor Morticia!Hwa was in such distress he didn't even think before pounding his pretty puppy into oblivion, leaving scratches, bites, bruises and handprints all over her beautiful body as a desperate attempt to make her unholy, if there was anything about his girl that made her deserving of ever witnessing the golden gates, there wouldn't be anymore, not after he was done with her.
— Morticia!Hwa who pays for a whole new closet to be built and added to the master bedroom(which belongs to him, his princess and Gomez!HJ) all because he loves to dress her in pretty goth gowns that won't fit in just one closet, so he makes another.
— Morticia!Hwa who clicks his tongue in fake disgust when he holds his angel’s chin and judges her bright and cute makeup, who tells her that she should ask him for help to do darker makeup instead of ruining the family’s aesthetic. Who smiles to himself when his bratty doll sticks her little red tongue out at him and calls him a “toxic goth” for bothering her about her makeup.
— Morticia!Hwa who secretly adores her cute makeup and even gets off to the fact that she’s so different from everyone in the house but will keep bothering her about her looks until she ultimately goes to him to ask for help on doing a darker makeup look, then he’ll be able to sit his princess in his lap and look at her adorable face features while doing the very same makeup he wears everyday on her instead, his own little twisted way of making her his, even if she doesn’t even realize.
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— Gomez’s Brother!Yunho who was so cautious about the family’s new “pet”(who was only the pet until G!Hongjoong and M!Hwa decided to claim her as their girl, less than a week after she got into the mansion) and was so sure that her personality was all for show and it wouldn’t take more than a month for her to lose her mind with the dynamics of their home, ultimately letting her true self shine through. Who was so bitter about not being correct on his assumptions of her as soon as he got his first taste of her, god, how he needed that.
— G. Brother!Yunho who is intoxicated with affection for this girl to the point he keeps traveling around for no specific reason, the real motive being to prevent him from becoming as dependent of her as the others in the house, he misses her a lot when he’s away, but knowing his and G!Hongjoong’s temper, it’s for the best that he doesn’t get too attached to her, sick possessiveness runs on the family.
— G. Brother!Yunho who buys her cute trinkets in all of his travels, who goes to every single vintage shop in and out of sight to get her unique things from everywhere around the world, everything she couldn’t have gotten from anyone else, anyone else other than him. Who gets all warm and fuzzy when he comes home and hears his girl’s quick footsteps coming down stairs to see him.
— G. Brother!Yunho who messages her on a daily basis, most of the old souls of his family refuse to use phones regularly, especially to talk to people inside their own house, he knows she is always free when it comes to messaging him, no matter who is actually with her physically, so he takes advantage of that.
— G. Brother!Yunho who gets not-so-innocently excited when she texts him “yeah!! I’m free to call :D” so cute, he could destroy her, but unfortunately his girl isn’t truly his to break. Who tells her his phone’s camera isn’t working properly and that’s why he won’t turn it on, while he gets off to her sweet voice in the most silent manner he can manage.
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— Pet Servant!Yeosang who was not expecting to see a person coming home with his bosses after they told the whole house that they would go out on a mission to find the perfect family pet. Who was not disappointed or appalled by it either. Of course he had many actual animals to care for, The Adams have snakes, cats, dogs, fishes, just about any little thing that can show some sort of life in the house since they’re all so dead, but the girl was sure a fun new addition to his daily routine.
— Pet Servant!Yeosang who takes full advantage of the fact she loves animals to easily scoop her away all for him for the whole day whenever he starts the morning taking care of the snakes, she loves them but no one other than M!Seonghwa is allowed in the snake’s area, no one other than PS!Yeosang, who feeds them, cleans their spaces and makes sure they stay healthy. Who breaks one of his very few rules by bringing her into the snake area because she likes them, and he likes her.
— Pet Servant!Yeosang who allows her to change the pet’s collars to pretty bows just long enough for her to take cute pictures of them, then he changes it back to their black leather collars with spikes. Who sits in the garden with her the whole day while saying that he’s “watching out for the dogs”, he isn’t, he barely looks at them while she’s there. Who has decided that his favorite part of the day is the sweet kisses he gets to have with his kitty as soon as the sun starts fading out and the night arrives.
— Pet Servant!Yeosang who spends the rainy days with her lounging in The Adam's big living room, him slouched on the couch, hands massaging her soft(and often sore) thighs resting above his own while she reads a book, both enjoying comfortable silence.
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+ thing!san has a normal body, his hand is just detachable +
— Thing!San who was already very excited about his new toy as soon as G!Hongjoong and M!Hwa walked into the house, only to be pleasantly surprised by the sight of a beautiful girl in a pretty skirt instead of a smelly animal. Who as soon as he realized how sweet and pure said girl was, decided to become her living nightmare.
— Thing!San who did it all, said all kinds of vulgar things to tease her out of nowhere, all of the things that made his pretty marionette snap her, usually all marked, neck at him in dangerous speeds. Who always laughed at her big reactions, who found it hilarious she behaved so innocently even after all of the filthy things they’ve done with her, to her.
— Thing!San who once overheard G!Hongjoong calling her “his marionette” and decided that’s the only nickname he would ever call her, shamelessly stealing her actual owner’s little pet name, just like he would shamelessly steal his girl the second he had a chance of doing so, the chance would never come, he knew it, but a man can be delusional every once in a century.
— Thing!San who sneaked his detached hand on her multiple times a day just to scare her, his hand came right back to him successfully every single time. Who everytime she complained about him scaring her made sure to remind his dear marionette just how much she loved his hand whenever he and Wednesday!Wooyoung played with her.
— Thing!San who fantasies daily about the possibility of using his special hand to touch his pretty girl while she’s with someone entirely, the idea of him not even being in the same room as her but still being the reason behind her sweet little sounds just makes him go a little bit insane, he hasn’t had the courage to talk with her or his house members about it yet, he will eventually, it's bound to happen.
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— Manservant!Mingi who was just so, so, so shy as soon as her pretty face showed up in the door, he was so scared of her. Who never thought of himself as presentable or handsome, and was so embarrassed of doing so much as being in the same room as her, when he noticed that despite his distant behavior she continuously kept trying to talk to him, he gave up on hiding and faced the scary monster that was the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
— Manservant!Mingi who went out his way to start reading books so he would have something to talk about with the pretty girl instead of just listening to her rambles, as much as he enjoyed them, he wanted nothing more than for her to find him interesting, cool even, it was his dream.
— Manservant!Mingi who opened up about feeling unattractive and insecure in comparison to the other men in the house and listened very carefully as she explained to him that he was just as handsome as them, the only difference was that they had a very specific style wich fit them well, and they took advantage of it.
— Manservant!Mingi who went all smiley with his precious girl to the mall to search for things he liked, who was confident enough to joke with her and was just so giddy when she laughed. Who has trouble falling asleep because his brain keeps replaying all of their sweet moments together. Who after a while starts having trouble falling asleep because his mind keeps replaying all of their sinful moments that make his mouth water and his body shake.
— Manservant!Mingi who years after the arrival of his dear girl looked unrecognizable, multiple piercings and some tattoos here and there, who started dressing with clothes he liked instead of the work clothes he used to, so much more talkative, much more of a goofball, a proud goofball, who actually had conversations with the people of the house and felt like a part of their family. And about her, God, he loves her. His sweet little thing, who he leans down to multiple times a day so she can hold his face with her pretty hands and place a thousand kisses on his cheeks.
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— Wednesday!Wooyoung who was convinced upon first sight that he would have to ignore her constantly and was so sure she would be nothing but a pain in his ass with her pink clothes and her shiny hair that looked so soft and smelled so good. She smelled good all the time, it annoyed him, spending such a long time inside meant he was pretty much used to the same 8 smells for such a long time. Then this lil kitten turned human shows up with her pretty kissable face and plush red lips and long sparkly nails and the sugary tone of her voice and… Oh, oh no. He likes her.
— Wednesday!Wooyoung who kept telling her to stop following him everywhere after he started showing up in all of her favorite places in the mansion, who dreamed that at some point she would like him enough to follow him around like she did with his older brother.
— Wednesday!Wooyoung who discovers a new side of himself while he teases her alongside Thing!San. Him who was always the reserved, quiet one of their friendship, most reserved and quiet one of the whole house, had seemed to have found a new passion in bothering their favorite girl, as time went on he became louder and louder and the boys seemed to be amused watching him change into someone else right in front of their eyes, that was, until he started bothering them as well.
— Wednesday!Wooyoung who somehow always ends up as her little toy that she walks around with through the whole mansion the entire day because once they hold hands for some reason in the morning, he simply doesn’t have the heart to let go and just allows her to drag him like a ragdoll while pretending to be annoyed, he secretly loves it. Who keeps telling her every single scary story that comes to his mind(or he makes up at the spot) only to not-so-discreetly offer his companion to protect her when the night comes around.
— Wednesday!Wooyoung who gets pathetically addicted to her, her scent, her voice, the feeling of her hand on his, the feeling of her lips on his, the feeling of her body on his, he’s long gone. Who takes far too much pride in being the person G!Hongjoong and M!Hwa allow to sleep with their precious doll on the all too rare occasions that they aren’t home. He spends these glorious days teasing her about experimenting with group intimacy, said experiment would be kept as their little secret. Nothing actually happens, he knows that their girl is far too obedient and would be telling her owners about everything as soon as they arrived back home, but a boy can dream.
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— Bodyguard!Jongho who was, at the very least, really confused when he arrived to pick up M!Hwa to his monthly trip to the town’s most fancy mall and said man walked out of his mansion not only with his husband, but also with someone else, someone new. His bosses didn’t give him much information about her, they have always been secretive so it came as no surprise, they only told him that she was a new addiction to the family, therefore, outside of the mansion; she was under his protection too.
— Bodyguard!Jongho who found all too amusing just how gentle yet undeniably obsessed his bosses managed to act around their new found passion over this girl, he wondered what was it about her that would make these well put together men act like feral dogs protecting their territory. Who just after his second ever encounter with The Adam’s girl, got his answer, he, who barely spoke to his bosses during all these years of serving them, found himself laughing comfortably and even engaging in her never stopping rambles.
— Bodyguard!Jongho who allows her to doll him up while they hang out in his parked car, ready to go home, not wanting to just yet. Who lets her put sparkly makeup all over his face and test different lip combos with her newly bought makeup, who plans on letting his hair grow a little bit so she can play with his hair like she does with PS!Yeosang or W!Wooyoung, he’s sure that she does it with M!Seonghwa as well but he’s never seen it.
— Bodyguard!Jongho who shoves information about silly things she likes in the boy’s group chat, any movies she mentions, any new style she’s looking into, any new interests at all, they all do it but he does it the most selflessly for sure, while the others hide most of the information they pick from her to use to their own advantage.
— Bodyguard!Jongho who doesn’t allow himself to be delusional when it comes to The Adams’s girl. He knows that at the end of the day his little shot of a expresso of a person isn’t truly his, nor will she ever be, he’s fine with that, as long as he keeps his head in place and doesn’t let himself fall into the dreamland, which she proves time and time again to be quite the challenge, he’ll be fine and she’ll be safe, and that’s what matter the most for all of them.
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pedroshotwifey · 24 days
Text
Know Better
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Pairing: Daddy!Dave York x bratty!fem!reader
Word count: 1.2k
tags/warnings: heavy daddy kink, spanking, dom dave york, sub reader, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanking, brat tamer dave york, dirty talk, embarrassment
Summary: You disobey Dave and he has no choice but to punish you for it.
A/N: Here's a surprise Dave fic that nobody asked for because I got pissed off on vacation. Also, I saw this as a sugar daddy/brat kind of situation, but you can obviously imagine it any way you want!
*****
“Daveee!”
You whine loudly from where you’re perched and on a pool float, watching him as he makes another business call. He shoots you a sharp look that should be warning enough for you to stop, but you’ve never been one to learn your lesson the easy way.
You know it’s an important call since he paused his lounging with you to answer it. The two of you have been sitting by the pool for a few hours now, not really talking, but just enjoying each other’s presence as he read a book in his chair, and you laid out on your long float. Still, you can’t help but try to get his attention solely on you again. 
“Daveeeee,” you moan again, stretching his way. 
He turns to look at you again, gaze fiery as he points to the phone and mouths at you to quit. You should probably stop while you’re ahead, but you don’t. With all the work he’s been doing lately, he promised he would be spending this weekend with you, and only you.
You put on a heavy pout and pull yourself out of the pool to walk over to him. You can’t hear what’s being said on the other side of the phone, but it’s not like you’re trying too hard as you walk up to him and throw your arms around his neck. You nuzzle a couple of kisses to his clean-shaven jaw and whisper in his unoccupied ear. 
“Come back, Daddy. I want you over here.” 
He moves his hand to your waist, and you think for a second that you’ve won him over—quicker than you thought you would as well. But then he squeezes. Hard. Hard enough for you to attempt to get out of his grasp.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tell, but I’m going to have to give you a call back.”
Your eyes widen at the grip and the tone he speaks with. And that name…you know that name. You know they must be talking about…
Shit. That’s what you’re in. Deep fucking shit.
“Yes sir, thank you. Bye.”
He hangs up the phone and sets it slowly on the table next to him. His hand comes up to grip your forearm tightly and he leans down until his face is less than an inch from yours. 
“What the fuck did I tell you about interrupting my phone calls?” he demands in a cold tone. 
You shiver in his hold as shameful tears start to sting the backs of your eyes. You’ve never heard him talk to you in such a way. Sure, he’s been firm at times, maybe agitated with your bratty attitude, but never downright angry at you.
“Dave, I-I didn’t mea—“
“Inside,” he growls. “Now. And I don’t know who the fuck you’re calling ‘Dave’ right now.” 
He lets you go with a small but forceful push toward the door. You know what happens now. Again, he’s dabbled in the idea of punishment, but so far, he’s never actually had a good reason to act on it. 
You take a trembling step inside and head toward the bedroom, Dave hot on your heels. You don’t even have a chance to peel out of your bathing suit before he grabs your arm again and drags you over his lap as he takes a seat on the bed. You yelp as he pulls your bikini bottom down, exposing your lower half. 
“I take it you understand how important that call was.”
He waits for you to nod softly before continuing, one hand rubbing your ass in a careful motion. 
“So you understand why I’m doing this. ” 
You nod again, holding in a sniffle. 
He doesn’t wait any longer before lifting his hand and then bringing it down hard on your bare ass. You grasp the sheets in front of you and yelp in pain. Your skin is still damp from getting out of the pool, so the smack hurts even more than it would normally.
You bite your lip to hide any more sounds as he quickly does it again, your body jolting with the force of it.
“Little fucking brat. Think you can just have all of my time.”
You sniff, a rogue tear running down your cheek. 
“But, Daddy—“
Another smack, one that makes you practically scream comes down, and then another right after.
“Brats and attention whores don’t get to talk back to their daddies,” Dave barks back. He rubs your stinging ass again, and you flinch even at that contact. 
“You have three more.” He tells you, no gentleness in his tone. “Count.”
You nod and brace yourself for the next hit, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel him reach his hand lower to rub across your wet folds. A dark chuckle comes from above you as he runs his middle finger over your clit. 
“Fucking slut,” he breathes through a laugh. 
It’s only then, once you relax, that he spanks you again, this time with enough force to cause a welt. You scream out and squirm in his lap. 
“Count.” 
“O-One,” you shake. 
He rubs your pussy again, roughly smearing your slick. He then brings that same hand up and delivers another swift slap.
“Two,” you say, tears running freely now. 
And again, his hand is back, one finger prodding your hole and making you moan despite yourself. 
But then he retracts it and winds up to send the last spank onto the sensitive flesh of your ass. 
“Three!” You scream as your body jolts.
Even though you can still feel his anger, Dave relaxes a bit at your pain and obvious regret. His hand goes down to your cunt again, letting a finger slide fully in this time. His thumb goes to your clit, rubbing tight circles as a coil starts to wind in your abdomen. 
“Mm, Daddy, please,” you beg. It feels so good. You never thought pain could contrast pleasure so nicely. 
“Yeah, you want Daddy to let your slut pussy come on his hand?” 
“Mm, yes please, Daddy.”
You keeps working you, letting you get closer and closer, your toes start curling as you grasp onto the sheets and then—
Then he pulls out. You whine sharply in protest.
“Daddy, no!”
You shut up as he spanks your pussy, a wet smacking sound coming from between your messy thighs, which tremble with the rest of your body at the feeling. The build up is gone, and you’re left feeling betrayed and embarrassed. Not to mention with a sore ass. 
“No. Bad girls don’t get treats.”
He helps you up, your bikini bottoms still around your knees as he stands up.
“Go get in the shower. Dinner will be ready when you get out.” He turns to leave, but then turns back to you after a couple of steps. “And don’t you fucking dare touch that little cunt. I’ll know if you do, and you won’t be coming for a long time if you choose to disobey me again.”
He leaves the room without another word, leaving you needy and fucking furious. But you get in the shower anyway, and you don’t risk touching yourself—even though you really fucking want to. You know better than to disobey Daddy, after all. 
******
Hi, babes! Sorry I've been a bit off the radar recently. I've been on vacation (as previously mentioned) but will be coming back tmw. TTF updates and requested fics will be posted regularly once I get back home!
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sukunasweetheart · 1 month
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I have a idea‼️mutual pining and miscommunications with sukuna: Reader having huge crush on sukuna but she thinks he has a thing with uraume so she kind of gives up but it turns out sukuna likes her too
Reader is close childhood friends with yuji so she usually hears about sukuna and uraume going places from yuji. Imagine reader asking yuji if sukunas going to prom and yuji tells her that he's probably going with uraume!!! So readers gets all sad and gives up, so she spends the rest of the year focusing on herself
Timeskip a year later they're all in college and they get paired together on a assignment. And reader ends up telling him that she had a big crush on him in highschool but since he was dating uraume she gave up. And sukunas just sitting there like "wtf are you talking about😧🤨⁉️"(he still has a fat crush on her so he's shocked) and he doesn't let her leave until she understands that he liked HER the whole time. So they both just sit there mad asf that they could have started dating a long time ago. (and sukuna mad at yuji for making reader think he was dating anyone)
This ending is almost as bad as the last one sorry🙏
OMG!!! i adore this tension so much..... the awkward, teenage love that never gets resolved bc of uncertainty from both parties.... and you focusing on yourself probably got him misunderstanding that you had no interest in him, and he'd probably been wondering why you felt so distant all of a sudden, but had no courage to ask why...
and how neither you or sukuna would've been so open about your crushes on each other so nobody else would've known :( and you would've easily missed sukuna's cues that he liked you bc youre too preoccupied with ur own feelings to notice </3 the same for him as well
misunderstanding that he was with uraume, you probably would've shut down anytime he tried to approach you, which discouraged him more- and you know sukuna's not the type to pathetically cling to someone who clearly "doesn't like him", so he leaves you be, lingering around bc though you dont seem to like him back, he can't get rid of his own feelings still, and wants to at least see you from afar
neither of you know whether to be happy or not about being partnered up for a uni assignment... and then you impulsively, and jokingly talk about how you used to have a crush on him bc you want to try and let go of the past now, only for him to turn to you with wide eyes and say that he felt the same since highschool??
"i don't have that kind of relationship with uraume--"
"but- but- yuuji said-"
"FUCK what that brat told you! i liked- i like you! this must be a joke..."
such a conversation probably draws the attention of a few classmates. curious eyes land on the scene and you feel embarrassed, happy and confused all at the same time.
"the fuck are you guys looking at? piss off."
the professor notices the small commotion and tells all of you to quieten down.
class then continues and while you're facing the front, sukuna puts his hand over yours and whispers "we're talking again after class."
then after things are settled, sukuna probably dashes over to yuuji to throttle him or something, due to being the main cause of the misunderstanding (poor yuuji)
he probably gets uraume to convince you that their relationship isnt what you think it is at all, which still feels a little jarring for you, especially after you've been believing it for a while now...
but, it's college, and you're all still pretty young! it's late but not too late. you start dating sukuna immediately, and as if to make up for lost time, the relationship develops with ease. happy end!
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princessbrunette · 4 months
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i’ve been really projecting with these posts lately, but reader who is scared easily and sensitive to violence at a party with rafe when a fight breaks out way too close to her for her liking, and rafe has to quickly remove her from the situation before she starts panicking.
tw: some guy grabs readers ass non consensually & there’s blood n violence in this !!
before you, rafe never had to care about who was watching when he got rough with people. he knew he could take a beating — he was 6’4 for gods sake and as time passed he definitely learnt to hold his own in a fight — but since getting together with you, he’s had to be more wary. he remembers the first time he’d pummelled some guys face in right infront of you. he didn’t know what he was expecting, but the drive home you were in stunned silence, patching his knuckles up with wide watery eyes. as soon as he asked if you were okay you’d burst into tears — like, not just a little sniffle, like full on bawling, shaking, can’t hold yourself up tears. something had traumatised you in the past, clearly — and rafe had triggered that.
he didn’t like that.
he was stubborn in nature, yes. he wouldn’t change for anyone. however, you were the exception. you were his everything, his obsession. he couldn’t handle the thought of scaring you and then losing you forever. fuck no, not on his watch.
he’d gone a long time without slipping up. balled up his fists under the table when someone would disrespect him over dinner. clenched his jaw and held it together when someone would look at you for too long. he even took deep breaths when his father would be breathing down his neck over family business. he was handling it— until someone crossed the line.
some random guy, a nobody really — a copy and paste kook in a polo shirt that had grabbed a handful of your ass at a beach party, drunk out of his mind nonetheless— but that didn’t make it any less okay. you were a shy, meek thing. rafe knew you weren’t even gonna stand up for yourself in a situation like this, even after you’d yelped loudly and jumped away from the man. picking on quiet, harmless girls who won’t fight back? now rafe just wouldn’t tolerate that.
it’s safe to say he lost control. it happened in a flash really, one moment he was processing what he’d just seen, next moment he had the guy by the collar, holding him up against a giant rock on the sand. rafe doesn’t know why he looked at you, but he was glad he did. you stood, in the middle of the chaos, the crowd forming — tense, wide eyed— comparable only to a baby deer moments before its limbs are shattered and crushed by an oncoming truck. he couldn’t do that to you, not again.
“get her out of here!” he heard himself growl, directing his attention to the nearest person by you. they didn’t move until he yelled “GO!” and suddenly you were being whisked away. he hoped you were gone, but he didn’t wait to see— fist connecting with the young man’s face.
he beat the shit out of him.
not like, a few punches and some rolling around in the sand. beat the shit out of him like, blood splattered on rafes face and up his arms, the crowd falling into shocked silence, topper yanking rafe away before he had a murder charge on his hands. it got ugly, and he was glad you were nowhere in sight when he fell away from the scene, raggedly panting.
he’d stumbled home, doing everything in his power to regulate his nervous system. shit, he probably had the cops show up and shut that party down but he couldn’t find it in himself to care right then. tanny hill finally emerges into vision, and he walks with the heel of his hands pressed to his eyes, face screwed.
“stupid, stupid— fuckin’ man up.” he mutters to himself, smacking the side of his head hoping to knock some sense into himself. he sniffs, shaking himself off before deepening his voice, speaking “man up.” again out loud. he gazes up at the house, and sees the only light on being the lamp in his room. you were there.
when he gets inside, he heads straight for the shower — not his own, because he’d have to go to his room for that. he uses his fathers, washing off the blood and the sweat that had gathered at his hairline, wiping down his face until he felt like him again. he breathes into his hands, a deep hot sigh, before drying off, changing into a sweater and sweatpant shorts and headed towards his room.
you’re sat on the bed, staring at the wall. not great, but atleast you weren’t crying. he edges into the door, swaying on the spot as he stares at you for a moment. you look back at him, but don’t say a word.
“hey… baby.” he speaks quietly, unsure of what to say.
“what happened?” you ask reluctantly, like you really didn’t wanna know, like you were silently begging him to lie. he presses his lips together, frowning and waving his hand up by his head like he was trying to conjure the words.
“you know i…” he sighs, edging towards you and sitting at your side, body turned completely towards you. he hesitates before grabbing both of you hands, squeezing lightly at your smaller fingers. “i did something that i had to do… okay? i-i-i have been really trying to get a hold of my anger. i know it’s an issue, a’ight? i know. but he touched you and… i didn’t think i just… i had to teach him a lesson. you understand, right?” his eyes are wide and intense. you almost want to look away.
“i just don’t like it, rafe.”
“i know.” he responds quickly, letting go of your hands as he nods, facing away to lean forward, pressing his face into his hands. he leans back, raking his fingers through floppy hair as he stares ahead with plump parted lips. “i know.”
there’s a silence between you two, and he nearly jumps when your hand creeps around his bicep, softly resting your temple on his shoulder. he’s frozen, staring at you from the side.
“did you get in trouble?” you whisper.
“nah, no i didn’t.” you feel him shake his head.
“thanks for sending me away… although i didn’t like when you yelled. it was scary.”
“i know, baby.” he jumps into action, wrapping both arms around you so he could tuck you under his chin. “i wasn’t yelling at you though. you know that— hey, you know that, yeah?” he pulls away briefly to lock eyes with you.
“yeah.”
he kisses the top of your head, pulling you back in.
“good… i’ll try not to fight anymore. infront of you anyway.”
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freak-accident419 · 1 month
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The Unlikely Postulate of Clapton’s Love Life
Clapton Davis x GN!Reader Headcanons
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Content: a little bit of fluff, mentions of virginity, mentions of underage drug use, that’s pretty much it :)
(A/n: Just like in the movie, I made a chapter title card as if you and Clapton’s relationship were inserted. I was really in love with the names such as ‘The Terrible Ultimatum of Clapton Davis’, ‘The Lonely Ballad of Billy Nolan,��� etc. so I came up with one as if these headcanons were scenes in the movie.)
-
You knew Clapton since Freshman year. You knew of him, at least, and you didn’t actually have a conversation with him until junior year. It all started when he asked you for a pen.
You weren’t too popular like him. But you were sort of the sweetheart of the school. Nobody would talk about you as much as they did Clapton, but when you were brought up, only good things were said about you.
A few small things had progressed your friendship with Clapton. First, it was the pen thing. Then you two were teamed up for a science project. This showed him how smart you were, so he began to rely on you. You were also charming and he began to become infatuated with you, so he asked you for homework help a lot of the time. You went on ‘dates’ and things, like how he skated you home, went on a movie date with you, went bowling together, until you two were official partners.
You two were both in Spanish classes. You were passing and he was failing, so you had to tutor him a whole lot. He came up to you one day with a giddy smile and said ‘Tu es mucho bonito.’ It wasn’t completely correct, but you appreciated it nonetheless.
He burned a CD for you consisting of all of your favorite songs.
Sometimes he appeared in your front yard at midnight for a late night skate. Other times he appeared, he went to your window and you two just made out.
You made out a lot. And you probably lost your virginity to him.
You two got high sometimes. One time you had a very long, weed-driven conversation about who the ‘real’ karate kid was: Ralph Macchio or Billy Zabka. He said it was obviously Macchio, but you liked to argue for Billy. In retrospect, you weren’t sure why.
You two are basically each other’s best friends. It took a while for the school to realize you were dating.
As attractive and charming as Clapton was, nobody really expected him to be in a relationship. He seemed like one of those cool chill guys who wouldn’t involve himself in one. That’s why everyone was so surprised to know that he was in a relationship, let alone with you—it was highly unlikely. Everyone in the school thought you were the power couple, though. Everyone talked and gossiped about your new relationship with him a lot.
You both didn’t like the idea of extravagant prom-posals. Plus, it was sort of a mutual understanding, you two knew you wanted to go together.
He loves holding your hand. Whether he’s walking you to your class or home, he cannot go without holding your hand.
He tried to teach you how to skateboard once because you asked him. You fell. It was terrible. But he patched you up and blamed himself for not teaching you or protecting you properly.
He loves sharing his music with you. Sharing earbuds and everything. When he found out that your go-to slow dance song was “Fields of Gold” by Sting, he instantly knew you were his soulmate.
Sometimes when you two cuddle, you talk about your future together. You hope to stay together long enough to get married. Then you think about articulate things like where to live, what kind of house, pets, etc.
He always said ‘Clapton don’t dance’ but that was a lie. He’d never hesitate to slow dance with you.
You made each other friendship bracelets. He never wants to take it off.
Riley was very supportive of your relationship. As Clapton’s best friend, she was glad that he found someone as amazing as you.
He loves whenever you play with his hair. You do it a lot.
Sometimes you’d ditch school to hang out at a 7-11 or smoke pot. It didn’t matter what you did, as long as he hung out with you. He enjoyed quality time.
One time, before you two were dating, you two ditched school because Clapton wanted to show you a trick he learned on the skateboard to impress you. Clearly he wasn’t ready because he fell, suffering a terrible injury. But there was something so dorkishly charming about that moment, that that was probably the first time you realized you liked him more than a friend.
The first time he said ‘I love you’ was by mistake. You two were both very high. He genuinely meant it, however. And so, the very next day, he properly confessed. And you expressed your reciprocation.
-
This was my first set of headcanons I’ve written, so I hope you enjoyed it! I hope I did this prompt justice :’) I was so proud of the title that I was too eager to wait until I got a solid fic idea, so I just decided to write headcanons :) thanks for reading!
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monzamash · 9 months
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it's impossible to win — daniel ricciardo
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daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 2.5k summary – when you buy concert tickets with your ex but break up a couple of months before the gig, do you go or cut your losses? rating – mature (sexual references, coarse language) a/n – this was inspired by a lovely ask i received during my 2k celebration and based around the band alexisonfire x masterlist
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just sent you the AOF tickets.
i told you to keep yours. you love them as much as i do. read
The glow of your phone was too bright, too harsh and so was the reality you didn’t want to face any time soon. You couldn’t keep them. How could you when the reputation of being the ‘notorious ex girlfriend of Daniel Ricciardo’ – man of the people, loved by millions shadowed you everywhere you went?
He was loved more than most and certainly more than you.
She was never good enough anyway; a parasite, they said when the news broke on the petty gossip pages, exposing that you and Daniel were no longer together, itemising every little detail of your downfall for the world to see. Those years of memories, years of loving privately disappeared and in its place were painful ones to heal. They were the best years of your life, or so you thought – blissfully unaware of the distance slowly growing between you and the man you loved more than most – but it wasn’t enough.
You weren't enough to fight for and especially not enough to love more than driving around a racetrack eight months out of the year. He was never there, out of sight and out of mind, leaving you battling for his attention. You weren’t cut out for it, simply put by him while on the other side of the world. It started as a late night phone call to ease the ache in your chest and to keep him close but he couldn’t have been further away. Physically and emotionally. Drifting.
“Babe, this is what you signed up for.”
“No, it’s what I tolerate – it’s what I sacrifice to love you.”
You broke down, knowing this was the end of your relationship and the only thing you could genuinely put your name to. You had lost yourself completely to his life, no longer something you could call your own. Abandoned dreams and forsaken friendships all so you could be there for him; drawn in to his world, naively consumed by his safety and the promise of a life lived together, not divided by oceans – lost to the fishes.
That was until you re-emerged from the lavish hotels and the private planes, sans Daniel – sans your soulmate. The day you ended that phone call, you knew he would be the hardest one to let go of; eternally the one that got away and the one relationship you would have to tell future boyfriends about. And they would probably gasp and ask, not the formula one driver? and you would have to nod and quash their insecurities because everyone loved Daniel.
But nobody loved him more than you do – did. Not even close.
“He said you should use the ticket and honestly, I don’t even think he’ll show up. He hasn’t come to anything we’ve organised since you two broke up – he’s not the kid we knew back in high school anymore… That’s why you dumped his arse, right?”
Right, but you couldn’t say that.
“I didn’t dump him. I just…” Just told him that he’s wasted the best years of my life chasing him around the world.
“… Said that if he couldn’t be there when I needed him or spent more than two seconds a year with me then I couldn’t do it anymore. And that’s it.” Well, not exactly.
“Sounds like a dumping to me and rightfully so. Look, I love Danny but he’s hard to be friends with, let alone pretending to be in domestic bliss with…”
Yes, but you respected Daniel too much to admit that. Hannah was his friend too, all of them were. You were kids all grown up, now adults wading their way through the treacherous seas of the real world, pretending like they had it all figured out. Ungracefully and riddled with anxiety but finally immune to bullshit and aware of what to expect out of an adult relationship.
The standards were higher now than when you were young and in love. Daniel was your childhood best friend, after all. Or more accurately, the boy you met on the first day of high school, all crooked teeth and bundles of frizzy brown curls. You were acne-ridden and shy, the weirdo girl, they called you until you became friends with Danny. He knew everyone and was loved by everyone – that was the one trait that had followed him through life.
He was the class clown and a cute distraction from the torture of high school but you weren’t the only one who thought so. Lunchtime quickly became your favourite part of every day because you got to sit beside him and eat your Vegemite sandwich, knowing all the other girls in your year seethed seeing you with him. 'That weird mole and Riccardo being friends doesn’t make sense' they’d whisper thinking you couldn’t hear them. But you could and they were right about one thing – you were only friends.
The slightest scent of a spring breeze reminded you of the hours you spent sat under the shady gum trees, watching him playing footy with the other boys while you fiddled with your walk-man and scratched the discs beyond repair as you changed them out, battling with the Sony aux chord that was hanging on for dear life by a slither of duct tape. You were fifteen when Daniel handed you a burnt CD with a hand-drawn skull in the shape of a heart and the letters AOF written in bold black sharpie, smudged from his impatience.
“What’s this?” You asked with squinted eyes, looking up at him and the blistering sun.
“The best fucking album you’ll ever hear.”
He told you years later that he was so proud of himself, thrilled that he was showing you new music. His competitive streak wasn’t exclusive to the karting track – no, it snuck its way into everything he did, specifically when it came to album recommendations and especially with you.
“It’s called Watch Out by Alexisonfire… you know, that punk band I said you would love. Give it a try. I promise it’s better than that fuckin’ Offspring album you won’t stop listenin’ to.”
“Well even if I do like it, I wont tell you now dickhead.”
But he was right. So infuriatingly right. You loved it, maybe because you loved him. He was your best friend, your closest confidante, your twin flame – all cheesy grin and beautiful brown eyes. Lips so full that whenever he spoke, you couldn’t look away. Dangerously entranced by your best friend. A label that haunted you every time it slipped from his tongue and one you desperately wanted to rip off like a band-aid.
You thought those feelings would be the kind of ones you'd painfully bury and take to your grave, heartbreakingly unrequited – until you found a hand-written note crumpled up at the bottom of the ripped CD sleeve. The blotchy blue pen and creases in the lined paper made it hard for you to read his distinctive, yet messy boyish cursive.
song 4 – side walk when she walks (made me think of you)
The sound of frantic clicking bounced off your lilac coloured walls as you skipped to track four; a spinning screech filled the anticipated silence before the sound of a melodic guitar filtered through the muffled headset.
Dressed to kill, you look so right I am drunk with lust tonight Your wounds are opening wide And they might be just my size
Warmth rushed to your chest, your neck and up to your cheeks when you realised what it all meant. And it wasn’t the last time Daniel made your body feel like it was on fire, sitting on his messy bedroom floor and kissing until you couldn’t breathe, the soft sounds of your new favourite band playing on his stereo – heart beating so fast you could’ve died, happily in his arms.
But you weren’t horny teenagers anymore and that memory was blurrier now than it had ever been. It had been muddied with all the sad ones, the fights and the tears – the irreversible emotional damage that you had done to each other. You weren’t a saint, god knows and you took full responsibility for your part and so did Daniel. But that was where it ended – in a seemingly amicable split.
No love lost, only misplaced for a while.
It felt like all eyes were watching you as you walked into the small club, ears already tingling with the reverberation bouncing off the blackened walls – if only they could talk. Musky bodies and the hint of cigarettes filled the air while your combat boots stuck to the floor with every step you took into the lion’s den, making your path to closure hard fought. Maybe it was a sign to turn back; anything could’ve convinced you to swing by the exit on your left until you saw him.
He was dressed head to toe in black with a cap securely pulled over his eyes, hiding away from the curious ones. In any other crowd it would’ve been a piss-poor disguise, so obviously him but he blended in with the dark walls and the growing crowd, all wearing the unofficial uniform of an elder emo – baggy sweater, ripped skinny jeans and torn up Vans. And you were no different.
"You made it!!", a friend greeted, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug while you took in the circling faces. There were a few you never thought you would see again, people who were only your friend by proxy and ones he’d picked up along the way. And it was clear by the way everyone greeted you that he hadn’t dragged your name through the mud, maybe he kept the details of the break up quiet like you.
But the reality for Daniel was that he was too broken to even process what had happened. He came home to an empty apartment after a double-header with no way to contact you, to make things right. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the couple of months you’d been apart was enough either. And he was right. The sharp pain in his chest and the way his hands shook when he saw you confirmed it. He was fucked.
“Fuck,” Daniel groaned and turned to his mate, “What am I doing here, man…” 
All he could do was let out a soft laugh and pat his friend on the shoulder, “You’re an idiot.”
Daniel readjusted his cap and let out a strangled, “I know.”
You promised your friend that you’d be fine, like water off a ducks back. All the side glances and murmurs meant nothing to you anymore, the insecurity you had now was nothing compared to when you were actually dating Daniel. Consumed in his bubble, unable to escape the crushing scrutiny. Another wag bites the dust, they said, gone with no explanation other than your obvious absence in the paddock.
It didn’t matter anymore; nothing could hurt more than losing him.
But you still felt it, bubbling away in the pit of your stomach. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night, especially when you thought it would last forever. Nostalgia won the battle against the wound in your chest for a moment, still festering without treatment – knowing the only person who could heal it was miles away emotionally but was now in your line of vision. Seeing him in the flesh hurt more than you’d anticipated, more than you could’ve ever imagined. You still loved him, after everything.
The bubbles of excitement quickly dissipated and twisted into knots when you thought about what you had lost – a wave of anxiety washed over, churning away at any ounce of courage you’d mustered to even turn up to this stupid fucking show. You were cursing yourself, cursing your friend who had convinced you that he probably wouldn’t even turn up and that the odds were in your favour. She was so, so wrong.
“Ignore him and come dance.”
She was in damage control, dragging you away from the small gathering of friends and Daniel, who couldn’t tear his eyes away. His warm stare burned holes through your leather jacket as he watched you walk off into the crowd – and away from him again. It was becoming a habit of yours that he loathed. The house lights felt like a spotlight on your bruised ego but you pushed through the warm bodies, putting as much distance as you could between you and your past. The support band sounded great, mostly because it drowned out the soul-crushing thoughts swirling in your mind and brought you some much needed reprieve from your pity party.
You didn’t feel like yourself at all – you were the shell of the woman you used to be and you certainly weren’t the woman you wanted to show up as either. Strong, independent, single and thriving – you were none of those things, entirely the opposite in every way, so you had to dig deep and fake it. And you were a great actor but not tonight.
Not when you felt a gentle poke to your bicep. The lights rotating and strobing above made it impossible to see who was standing beside you, hand offering an icy bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime. It nearly slipped from your shaky fingers when you grasped it, whispering a soft thank you as the house lights went down and the swell of the surging crowd rumbled under foot.
“I wanted to have a chat but…” Daniel pointed to the stage, yelling over the drummer that had taken his rightful place behind his kit.
“Maybe later?” And you nodded yes, sending him a reassuring smile as the band began to play.
You could be diplomatic and hear him out – you owed yourself that at least and deserved closure from all the unanswered questions.
Daniel kept his distance, knowing he was in the wrong and that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life. And it wasn’t long until his heart stalled in his chest when he heard that painfully recognisable guitar riff filter through the thick air, the one he couldn’t listen to without thinking of you and he could see the way your eyes glazed with tears when you heard it; the opening chords to the song he had dedicated to you all those years ago on that stupid burnt cd.
Maybe you missed him too.
“This ones called side walk when she walks.”
You reached down, without even looking and grasped his hand that was hanging loosely between your stiff bodies. Daniel interlocked his shaking fingers with yours and squeezed them as your head dropped to his shoulder, resting there while you both swayed to the music. You felt safe for the first time in months, comforted by his presence.
Of course you missed him. He was your person.
And this was your band; the band you shared together for over half your lives, their songs played while you fell in love with one another. They were the band you lost your virginity to, humming softly in the background and wishing that feeling would last forever. You remembered blasting ‘to a friend’ in the car on the way to your graduation and Daniel nearly getting pulled over by the cops, laughing until your sides hurt. And they were the band you would always save for your road trips along the coast, both there in Los Angeles and back home.
These were the songs that soundtracked your life with Daniel.
They were your band – and they’d brought you back together.
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a//n – this was wildly self indulgent so if you hated it, let me know lol but also lmk if you liked it because i loved writing it x masterlist | askbox
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 3 months
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loved the beach Jake drabble!!! It got me thinking about one of the daggers ACTUALLY catching him full on in the act (if that's something you'd wanna write of course xx)
YES I DO, YES YES YES - also thank you sm, glad you liked it!!!! disclaimer for this one: i know nothing about the us military so. haha. if he'd get fired for this um. ignore it.
as always, feel free to keep requesting (here)!
top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs
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It's risky. You're well aware.
But it's also late. And you're pretty sure no one's coming back into the locker room anymore.
So you don't say no. You don't even say maybe. You just cross your arms behind Jake's neck and pull him down to you before he can finish asking if you're sure.
You've got him out of his flight suit in half a minute, let him work his fingers into you for about two more and then mewl so pathetically into his kisses that he chuckles and gives in to your pleas.
He's thrusting into you a few moments later, your legs wrapped around him, your fingers tangled in his hair, scratching down his neck, your back against the cold metal of his locker, his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your chest - sloppy, wet and quick, all of it.
You're needy and whiny and entirely too close too fast as he rubs circles against your clit, your moans carrying far and deep into the empty room.
"Jake", you whimper, over and over, strung together incoherently as he hits all your sweet spots, groans into your skin and sinks his teeth into your throat. "Just like that."
His skin is so warm under your fingertips, so easy to drag your nails along, and he's doing everything right, everything, and you're so needy, so desperate, so close-
"Holy shit!"
Jake freezes and snaps his head around and you genuinely feel like your soul leaves your body for a second there, your heart thumping against your ribcage so hard and fast that you wouldn't be surprised if it jumped right out of your chest.
Over Jake's shoulder, you can see Bradley standing in the middle of the room, phone in his hand and door wide open behind him.
You'd been far from hearing the door open.
You'd been far from hearing anything.
Bradley's mouth has fallen open and his eyes are so comically wide that he looks straight out of an animated movie. He stares at you for one, two, three seconds too long.
You stare right back.
Nobody moves. Nobody says anything.
Then Jake presses his palms against the locker next to your head, shields your body with his.
"Get! Out!", he seethes, enough anger in his voice to snap Bradley out of his trance, who immediately throws up his arms in surrender and spins on his heels.
"I'm going! I'm going! Sorry!", Bradley calls out in blind panic, nothing short of sprinting out of the locker room with an unintelligible string of what you think are probably another few hundred sorry's.
You gawk after him for too long. Much too long.
So long that Jake drops his head against your shoulder and takes in a shaky breath.
You're panting as well, heart still racing too fast and too much adrenaline pumping through your veins. The reality of the situation takes a while to sink in.
There'd been a risk of getting caught, of course. But a risk that you'd kind of dismissed in the first place, because the squad had already left when you'd sneaked into the men's locker room after Jake.
And now... Now, Bradley had actually caught you.
He'd caught Jake fucking you against the lockers, plain and simple.
"Shit", you mutter. Jake pulls his head back and looks at you. He's still inside of you, his hands still caging you in, his lips still kiss-swollen and smeared with your lipbalm.
His eyes roam your face. You let him. You wouldn't know what else to do anyway. So you just let him take you in and slowly try to calm your breathing.
Then, softly, he presses his lips against yours - just once, touching briefly, lingering for a second too long. Your eyes flutter shut instinctively, waiting until he kisses you a second time, then a third, then a fourth, each one longer and longer and longer. You've stopped counting when his tongue brushes along your lips and you part them eagerly, scratch your nails down his neck again.
When he starts moving, you're meeting his thrusts - deliberately at first, but the desperate need for him hits you like a wave and within minutes, you're moaning again, whining and whimpering as his kisses get sloppier and his fingers drop to your clit once more.
Tomorrow, you'll have to deal with Bradley and the squad, who he's probably already texting frantically. But tonight, you'll take Jake home and he'll make you forget about all of it for a few hours.
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scintillyyy · 1 month
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the interesting thing about tim's parents' kidnapping + janet's death is that it's honestly so intertwined with the technological limitations of the era. international calls are hard for batman to make, let alone tim's parents--communication is limited to sporadic letters and postcards. calls would be a rarer thing, probably only for truly important events or dire emergencies, so there's no ability to constantly and immediately communicate where you are and what you're doing. just. the overall blankness of where you are at any given moment--people didn't know exactly what you were doing at any moment, where you were, who you were with the way they do nowadays. the fact that they were able to disappear and be gone for a bit before anyone even had an inkling they were kidnapped to begin with & the fact that nobody knew exactly where they were when they were kidnapped is what led to bruce not being able to find them until it was a minute too late.
and with today's technology, it'd be a lot easier for them to be in touch, right? that would make it harder for the chain of events playing out the way they did.
so have you considered. janet sent tim a text saying they were getting on a plane & she'd call/text to check in when they got there. tim is kind of busy with his robin training, so he barely registers the text when they text him that monday, let alone remember his parents were supposed to call. they usually do a saturday call anyway, so he doesn't really notice until they don't call that weekend. he goes to tell bruce his worries, only to find bruce already knows and has the ransom tape. by then, bruce has already been looking for a couple of days--drake industries had heard on thursday they were kidnapped & brought it to the gcpd's attention. by the time anyone is looking, though, the drakes have been missing two days already and could be moved anywhere. all anyone knows is that they went missing in the caribbean (bruce was able to ascertain where their plane was diverted to, but there's no sign they're still there). they could have been moved anywhere at this point by boat, the leads keep going cold. their phones are gone, gps tracking is a bust. batman is finally able to track them down, but it's too late.
tim knows--if had paid attention to his robin training, like he should've...they could have started the search on monday when they didn't check in. wouldn't they have had more of a chance of finding them on time if they had?
when he gets his robin costume after his mom's funeral, he knows he's not ready to go out as robin, even if bruce says he is. robin wouldn't miss something so obvious.
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