Tumgik
#he ain't getting paid enough for this
ace-lemonade · 2 months
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only appropriate reaction
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apricusapollo · 4 months
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luke in the other side of stars
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thedreadvampy · 1 year
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Otis started eating again last week so that's a relief! Gonna take him back up to 2 mice next week and the week after so he's well fed when we go away ❤️
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I only use this site maybe thrice a year but I just want to share that my supervisor uses all of his breaktime for each break he has to clean every inch of the new hires' desks the day before they arrive and I think that speaks a lot of that guy.
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blondwhowrites · 18 days
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ꨄ Mattheo with a shy girlfriend is literally the best thing to ever exist AND I WILL DIE UPON THAT FUCKING HILL 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️
ꨄ He's walking to his class one day when you accidentally stumble into him. Of course, you're just so embarrassed. I mean, this was THE Mattheo Riddle, son of the dark lord and one of the most attractive boys in the school. While you're busy apologizing and scrambling to get your things, he's just staring at you absolutely stricken by your beauty and presence. He almost wants to cry when you run away from him because—HOLY SHIT HOW DID HE NOT KNOW YOU EXISTED UP UNTIL THAT MOMENT?!
ꨄ He is instantly going to Pansy and asking about you after that incident. Literally is so pressed when she doesn't know anything about you. Now he has to do all the work and by that, he means stalking you and learning everything about you 🙄
ꨄ Congratulations you now have a stalker 🎉
ꨄ But seriously he has a few uhh... interesting ways of getting to know you 😃 It's a bit creepy and obsessive but he means well.
ꨄ The more he learns about you, the more he falls for you. He notes all your little, mindless habits. He makes a list of things he knows you like to spoil you in the future. He threatens anyone who treats you badly. He also makes sure no boys try to steal you away from him because there's no way he's gonna lose to some pathetic Ravenclaw. (Caw caw motherfuckers)
ꨄ He knows you're shy, so he takes his time when it comes to actually interacting with you. At first, it's just little interactions, like smiling and waving at you or holding the door for you. Then he's starting conversations with you, and interacting with the very few friends you have. He wiggles his way into your life like a little worm. HE'S IN IT FOR THE LONG GAME GIRLS
ꨄ He would literally condition you into being comfortable with his touch, like touching your shoulder and hands a little when he's talking to you, or subtly wrapping his arm around you when you two are walking. This motherfucker is so subtle—it's not even funny
ꨄ Praises you whenever he can, and he loves the way you get so shy and giddy whenever he does. He knows you are giggling and kicking your feet 🤭
ꨄ He tells Theo and Draco about you, and it gets to the point where the two boys know more about you than your friends. They just want you to get with him already because they are so sick of Mattheo gushing about you whenever he can. They both secretly are happy that Mattheo trusts them enough to be so open to them about his feelings for you
ꨄ When you do get together, Mattheo feels like he is on top of the world. All that hard work paid off, and now he has you in his arms—AND HE AIN'T EVER GONNA LET YOU GO 😤
ꨄ Well, congratulations on becoming Mrs. Riddle!!!
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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
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Love ain't a Science!
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Summary: Miguel takes notes on your dates. You just want him present with you. Miguel x Reader, Fluff, Drabble.
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Liking Miguel wasn’t easy. Well, it was, it’s just he made it hard for himself. You sat across from him in a diner, milkshake in front of you while you sipped from the straw and stared down at Miguel while he scribbled in his notebook. His glasses slipped down his nose and he scrunched his face up to lift it back. His eyebrows were furrowed as he mumbled to himself and left his own milkshake unattended. You sipped loudly from your cup with a deadpan expression, hoping to get Miguel’s attention but he was still in his own world. You began to think about the last ‘date’ you went on with Miguel. It went very similar to this. Both of you went to the same diner as today, a step up from last time when he couldn’t decide where to go, but you had picked a different milkshake from today. He recommended one from the menu and you smiled happily and accepted it. Miguel seemed pleased at your response, gaining a bit of confidence and standing straighter next to you as you ordered and he paid. Only when you got to your seats, the booth at the corner of the wall next to the window, he pulled out his notebook from his backpack. He began scribbling like he is now, just a little less tense. He asked you questions about yourself and even asked what you liked and didn’t like–if the milkshake was good. You responded to all of them happily, beaming he seemed much more interested. Until today, where you went to the same diner and instead of ordering the milkshake Miguel recommended, you ordered a different flavor and paid for yourself. He snapped his head down towards you, baffled and not realizing you had paid while he was slack jawed. When you go to your familiar seats, Miguel pulls out that damned notebook and looks up at you from his glasses, an unsure look on his face. “Did you not like the one from last time?” He asked softly. You blink and look at your strawberry milkshake. You had chocolate previously. “I did,” You nodded. “I just thought about trying something different today and to pay on my own as thanks for last time.” You smiled at him and took your first sip from the drink.
Miguel let out a sigh as he looked at you, still unsure. He opens his notebook and begins scribbling in it. Has been for the last twenty minutes. His milkshake had gone lukewarm, whipped cream slipping down the glass and cherry nearly toppling over. Your sipping became loud and obnoxious as you finished the drink, chewing on the plastic straw in mild annoyance. Deciding you had enough, you slid the empty glass to the side and snatched his notebook from his hands. Miguel gasped, his eyes meeting yours in a frightened gaze and tried reaching for his notebook across the table but you held it up and away from him with a frown on your lips. “Just what is in this notebook that you bring it and ignore me every time we hang out?” You tsked and flipped open the notebook, Miguel letting out a strangled yelp when you did so. Miguel was rendered helpless, his cheeks growing warm since he was unable to be rough with you and fight for it back so, he let you skim through it.
Inside his notebook were various pages filled to the brim with messy writing about your past dates with him. All ranging from the very beginning, crossing out places you may or may not have liked so he could pick the best option to writing down your favorite foods to find the best meal he could give you. You saw your answers to his questions scribbled on the next page, crossing out ideas that didn’t fit what you liked. Other random spots were drawings of your face done completely out of angles, figuring out each angle and curve of your features to its perfection. His recent page was even more scribbled on why his ‘hypothesis’ of you liking chocolate milkshakes didn’t work this time. Your frown broke into a smile, flattering blooming in your chest. You started laughing which prompted Miguel to sink in his seat, place his elbows on the table and cover his blushing face with his hands. “Are you seriously using science on our dates?” You asked between laughter. Miguel grumbles, his face growing hotter by the second. “I’m not one of your experiments, Miggy.” You close the notebook and tap it on his head that made him peek through his fingers. You smiled reassuringly at him with a few giggles escaping you. “I’m sorry.�� He apologized, dropping his hands to reveal the dark red on his cheeks. You shook your head. “I’ll allow it this time, but I’m keeping this,” You waved the notebook before setting it down next to you. Miguel restrains himself from reaching out to take it back. “Just stay with me. Here. You won’t figure me out by studying me. I like you, You like me–let’s not make this complicated.” You explained and set your hands on the table. He sets his own hands on the table, awkwardly looking at the marbled surface. He glances at his melted and warm milkshake and looks at you. You give an encouraging nod to him. Miguel takes his glass and brings the straw to his mouth, a sheepish grin on his lips as he looks at you. You don’t break eye contact as he takes his first sip and laughed when the taste registers in his mouth and he gags, coughing and desperately trying to swallow it down. “How was it?” You laugh. He sputters a bit, his voice a little hoarse.
“Really, really stale.” He coughs and you keep laughing. He looks at how much brighter you seemed now and his heart skips a beat. Miguel pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose and smiles softly while your laughing died down to giggles. This was much easier than using science.
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A/N: *grips shy nerd miguel in my grasp so hard his eyes bug out of his sockets* quieres?
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compact-turtle · 6 months
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So I’m my area, I’m in the country, it’s pretty common to see women just in their bikinis laid on a blanket/chair out in the yard to tan. It’s the country, ya know? No one sees you, except for whomever lives with you. It’s just something we do. How would Atticus feel about that tho? Seeing his darling in skimpy bathing-suit laying outside to tan??
I'm slowly and steadily finally going through my inbox after five months. Sorry to everyone if I don't make it to your post there's like 100+ things in my inbox :(
That would be so sweet actually. Imagine him getting butterflies and everything seeing you openly tan in a skimpy bathing suit.
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Content Warning: slight n--s--f---w.
-Today was a mandatory laundry day for Atticus. He was officially out of clean clothes. Everything was dirty and starting to smell worse than the cows on a hot day. Of course, he didn't mind it too much, but you were here. What would you think if he didn't keep up with his hygiene?
-A basket of wet laundry was at his feet as he started to pin them up to dry. He'd much rather be out milking the cows or tending to the crops than doing this. Still, it gave Atticus time to be lost in his thoughts.
-He wondered how long he could stall you from leaving. It'd already been a few weeks since your car broke down and he knew everyone was getting antsy. Especially, after working so much on the farm.
-To combat this, he started giving everyone more breaks and days off. He even attempted to encourage them to view this as a "rent-free-all-expense-paid-vacation" in a beautiful rural setting. Thankfully, all your little friends seemed to be airheaded enough to believe this. They ain't got a lick of sense to them.
-His attention was pulled away when he noticed you from the corner of his eye. He tried watching you discreetly; wondering what you were doing. In your hands, there was a large blanket and a tote bag. You were dressed in a long white t-shirt that reached barely past your butt.
-You threw him a warm smile along as you walked past him. You stopped near an oak tree and began to lay out your blanket. Gently, you set your bag down and then took out a few items.
Perhaps you were out on a small picnic today?
-He watched slack-jawed as you removed your t-shirt to reveal everything hidden underneath. The silhouettes of your body seemed to be chiseled by the hand of a celestial sculptor. He'd gladly worship it, adorn it with jewels, anything you wanted. Your skin was like a holy text, inviting him to devote himself even deeper.
"Looks like you're begging for a mighty big sunburn there," Atticus said as he walked up. His gaze cast down as he avoided eye contact.
"No worries! I brought sunscreen with me! Actually, could you help put it on my back?" You asked as you searched in your bag for a bottle of sunscreen. You pulled it out and handed it to Atticus with a bright smile.
-He nodded, then took the bottle from you. Slowly, he poured the sunscreen into his rugged hands. He gently began to spread it out on your back.
-Atticus nervously wondered if you minded his calloused hands. Were they scratching up your back? Or was it making you regret asking him?
-Still, more than anything, he was giddier than a schoolchild. He loved the way your skin felt underneath his hands. Your skin was like a delicate canvas, soft and flawless in his eyes. This felt like a privilege to trace his fingers all across your back. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to touch the skin underneath your clothes.
"Atticus, it hurts. Be more gentle." You tenderly mumbled, "Don't push into my back so hard."
-He felt something familiar rise in his lower area. it took everything in him to not pounce on you right now. Atticus would love to litter kisses all over your back. He'd kiss every part until you were tired of it all.
-He desperately wanted needed to rut into you. To show, that he could satisfy you in any compacity you wanted. He imagined your voice moaning out in a breathy tone, begging him to just go harder and faster. Of course, he’s comply with your demands and go as faster as you want. Then he’d lean down and suck y-
"That should be good now, Atticus. Thank you for the help." You said as you flipped yourself around to face him.
-His eyes briefly dipped down to view your whole body. Another small wave of imagination rolled over him.
"No problem. Seems like all your little friends disappeared."
"It's sweet that you're worried about them! Everyone is swimming in the creek nearby. I was going to join them but figured I'd tan instead. I haven't been able to do it all summer. Especially due to our road trip."
"I see. Where'd ya get this tiny piece you got on from? Don't look like it covers much of anything."
"Oh, does it make you uncomfortable? I can go and change if-."
"No. It's fine. Just go on back and do your own thing." Atticus interrupted quickly, "Don't mind me."
-He watched as you laughed and nodded. Atticus turned back towards the house. His pace was unusually brisk with heavy panting.
-The laundry could wait. He had more important things to do right now.
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(That may or may not involve fantasies of you two in some intense yoga positions)
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yuri-is-online · 8 months
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Missed Connection Section of the NRC Gazette (Floyd, Leona, and Ruggie)
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While cleaning the Ramshackle guest room, the prefect occasionally finds items that remind them of their guests. Sometimes that is because those items actually belong to them and need to be returned, other times it's just a happy coincidence. Either way, the item needs to be delivered, might as well invite them over again? Or just chase them down, whatever is most convenient.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, Yuu is implied to be short, based off the personal items you can find in the guest room and a line from Floyd's dormwear card, title inspired by a country song that has nothing to do with the subject of the fic. I got a request for the 300 followers event, but since it's closed and I had this kicking around for Floyd anyway I added the other two requested characters. If you liked this you can read my other fics here.
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Grey Scarf
"Floyd." Azul has a boring look on his face, all grimacy and angry and not worth Floyd's attention. Unfortunately he is very close to his face making it a tad impossible to ignore. "Where is your scarf?"  
"Dunno." He says. "I ain't wearing it." 
"I can see that." Snaps Azul. "You need it for your shift, you look sloppy enough as it is.  You scarf is a part of your uniform!  How can you be so careless with it?"
Because it's ugly.  Sure, it matches his dorm uniform kind of but his socks get to be a snazzy purple with a cute octopus pattern, why'd the scarf have to be such a boring grey?  Rules are rules though, and he does need it to work so he drags himself back over to his room and starts looking around. Normally, he would just steal Jade's and wait tables until he figured it out and forced Floyd to take the kitchen off his hands, but Floyd really didn't feel like cooking today. He didn't feel like waiting tables either, but money was money and Azul paid well. Only if he could find his stupid scarf apparently which was nowhere he could see, and he was far from happy about physically looking. Jade opens the door as he's halfway through emptying his bedside drawer on top of his bed, alongside all the laundry he'd had scattered across the floor.
"Looking for your scarf?" Floyd throws a pillow at him which is quickly returned with a pointed look that dares him to escalate things further just obviously enough Floyd doesn't want to do it. Instead he falls face first into the pile of laundry and nick nacks he'd been sorting through, making Jade sigh in disappointment.
"'s not here." Floyd grunts, muffled by an ok smelling t-shirt.
"Have you tried retracing your steps?" Jade is saying it just to be annoying but it is ok advice. Floyd tries, he doesn't usually wear his dorm uniform outside of school stuff, so it would have to be somewhere on campus. He hauls himself up from the pile and shuffles past his brother, the walk out of the mirror and towards the main campus passing by in a blur. There's a vague memory of club practice, but that could have been from any day this week, and it's not like he wears it to classes. Floyd chews on his lip in annoyance, he feels like he remembers where the last place the scarf was, but his bad mood is keeping him from sorting through his memories intellectually. It also keeps him from looking where he's going, smacking him directly into a very tiny, very familiar looking person who pointedly ignores his angry snarl to shove something in his face. Something very familiar, very boring, and very clearly the only reason either of them had left their dorms this evening.
"Seriously," the little shrimp has to stand up on their tip toes to throw the scarf around his shoulders "you have got to stop leaving your things at my dorm!" He thinks they're angry. That would explain the look on their face, but it's making his heart do weird flips between his chest and his stomach that keep him from thinking straight. A smile finds its way to his face, wide and unbidden coupled with outstretched arms that can't catch them fast enough, like he's reaching through honey even though he finds his mark and tugs them thrashing into his embrace.
"Awww," the words that come out of his mouth don't really feel like his "was little shrimpy wooooried about me?" He should say thank you. That's what Mamma Leech would say, and it's not that he doesn't want to, it's just there's a weird weight to the words he can't quite figure out. Something that wants to be said, but not just yet. They deserve a better tone, a better mood.
"No!" Yuu yells, muffled by his squeeze and unaware of how struggling is only going to make his hold tighter. "You just always burst in and whine about being bored-" Floyd nuzzles his cheek against theirs, trying to ignore the pushing against his chest as he sets them down.
"It's ok little shrimpy, you don't have to be so modest. Good shrimpies get rewards, I'll make sure to bring you something after I get off work, make sure to leave the door unlocked for me~" Or maybe don't, he could find his way in anyway he's sure of that but there's something about the fantasy of them wanting to see him (it's not a fantasy, they've invited him over before he knows that they don't fear him as much as they should) after work that's going to get him through the shift. Maybe he'll ditch the scarf again and make them come running after him on purpose this time, he thinks to himself with an uncharacteristically gentle smile.
Grand Wallet
Contrary to what he would say out-loud, Leona does think that the Ramshackle Prefect is quite smart. You do not survive as a magicless student from a different reality without some flexibility and raw intelligence. The consistency with which they could pick up on things and see through concealed intentions demands respect. But, he supposes as he idly thumbs through his bill fold disappointed to find it just as thick as when he left it, they are also... he decides to go with nice. The concerned way they stare at him is nice, Leona likes positive attention. He just wishes it wasn't from the nicest person he knows, is it so wrong to wish he had some reassurance that there was someone willing to be only nice to him? There's an ugly sort of suspicion they might have refused to steal from him out of fear, he's certainly more of a threat to them than he is to Ruggie.
"Well I guess I owe you a reward huh?" They jump, not helping the accusation (unvoiced) that they're only doing this out of fear.
"No?" Yuu says, looking around them probably to make sure that bratty cat monster isn't within earshot. Leona doesn't care about rewarding Grim, this is between him and the prefect, not some gluttonous bastard who is half the reason he was expecting to be stolen from in the first place. "You- Just stop forgetting things at my place!" He smiles slightly at that choice of phrasing just as they cringe at it. It almost makes him sound like a normal guy, if a Prince was leaving things around someone's place that would invite speculation; and Leona knows better than anyone that speculation invites scandal.
"Real shame no one ever does things out of the goodness of their hearts these days." His voice drawls as embarrassment settles over their face. They look almost mouse-like, if they try to speak Leona just knows they'll squeak and they clearly know it too. "You're really twisting my arm here, pretty shameless, prefect." That does it, the deep breath they take does nothing but really accentuate the harsh contrast of the squeaking to their normal voice.
"I did not," Yuu is so mortified they can barely get the words out, if he can't be the only recipient of their kindness he will satisfy himself with batting them around in his paws until they can pull together some nerves and force him to stop "return your wallet just for a reward. It's yours it belongs to you and now it is back where it belongs. Which isn't my guest room on top of a fucking couch seriously Leona-" Mice still have claws, even if the dent they leave is just a little scratch to such a big cat, he finds himself pleased with the annoyance of Yuu finding their voice. "It was like you were practically begging to be robbed. What if one of the Leech twins found that huh? Would you be getting it back?"
"Only after I paid the finders fee." He can ignore the tickle caused by the unsavory image of an eel inviting itself into your personal space. "Which is what I am doin' now, you're demanding it remember?" He tunes his ears to their footsteps as he walks towards the cafeteria, content with how quickly they jump to follow. The typically steady beat of their heart is skipping in tune with the directions of their thoughts. Good, the mouse is smart contrary to what the trapped lion thinks, so let them; they'll realize the hold they have over him soon enough.
Empty Lunch Box
This was really starting to annoy you, but no matter how much you turned the whole thing over in your mind you couldn't figure out why. You had been tempted to try and ask someone about it, but you could already tell what the general reaction to the situation would be.
The "situation" being that simply put, Ruggie liked to hang out in your guest room. That wasn't the issue. You liked having Ruggie over, it's actually really nice. Sometimes he brings small projects from some odd job or another and you'll work on them together while having a chat. He likes to ask you things about your world, it started as just small talk about the sort of jobs you'd had in your world but evolved into much more meaningful talks about your hobbies and the family you missed. You had even had a lengthy conversation about death and the difference between cultural beliefs about where you go after you die. Yes it was very nice and domestic even but then you made the mistake of trying to be nice.
Ruggie liked to bring a lunchbox with him when he visited. Sometimes it had food in it, and while he hadn't shared it with you at first, but then you started talking about your families and he had slightly warmed up to the idea of sharing snacks. You hadn't taken anything from him until he explicitly offered, and when he forgot the now empty lunch box you had pulled some of your personal savings to get him something from the Mystery Shop. It was supposed to be a cute surprise for him to find when you returned the lunch box, and it worked. Granted you had intended for him to find it after he got back to his dorm, but he had sniffed it out as soon as you handed it over. His reaction was cute, he was cute, it was almost like he thought he was dreaming with just how excited he had been to receive some packaged pastries. When he came over later in the week and left the lunchbox again you had done the same thing. Fair is fair, he gets you jobs and shares his food and you give a little food back in return. Lately though something has been different. Ruggie has still been coming to hang out, he still brings work, you still talk, and he still leaves that damn lunch box. But he hasn't been sharing anything, meaningful; personal information or foodwise.
Maybe it was the death conversation. If you had revealed you were an orphan and that you never knew your mom to someone you had a crush on (not that Ruggie like likes you no matter how much you might might want that) you would be pumping the breaks too. But it still kind of hurt, it felt like a rejection of something that you knew hadn't existed in the first place.
"Y'know you don't have to give me stuff." Ruggie had come over today too, with shitty plastic garbage that needed packed into boxes. He's either read your mind or noticed you brought the remainder of the packaged goods out to snack on while you work. You try to asses him from behind your pile of card stock, he's overly focused on his task. Reflective maybe? He is almost pouting.
"I wanted to." You decide to stick with honesty, sure Ruggie might be sneaky but he deserves that much, doesn't he? "You share with me, I share with you. Fair's fair, right?"
"Right." Ruggie says, audibly disappointed to your confusion. You have never seen him so... gloomy over the concept of someone owing him a favor. Especially one paid back in food. "You do that for everybody, yeah?"
"Yeah?" You say, pausing in your work for just a second to try and collect yourself. Up until a few seconds ago you had been under the impression that had been one of your better qualities.
"So like," he isn't looking at you and his ears are saggy, tugging at your heartstrings painfully though just a tiny part of you is starting to hope- "if Leona left no that doesn't make sense. If Jack left his lunch box here and it was empty would you buy him a snack?" You think for a second.
"Did he share his lunch with me?"
"Yes." Ruggie's looking at you again, like he has a bone to pick.
"Maybe." You don't really have to think about the answer, as much as you like returning the favor Jack would probably just be happy to find his lost item and leave it at that. "If we were hanging out and he wanted something from a vending machine I'd spot him."
"But you wouldn't go out of your way to get him something?" Ruggie's stopped working now, he's really staring at you almost like he is trying to sus you out as if he hasn't been friends with you for a while now. As if he doesn't know more of your secrets than anyone else.
"I-" for some reason what you want to say gets stuck on your throat, maybe it's because Ruggie leans across the couch to get a bit closer to your face. Maybe it's because you are suddenly a lot more aware of what your little actions might have meant to him as your previous conversations play over in your mind "no. You're the only person I've really gone out of my way to get food for. Well except for maybe Grim but he doesn't really count..." You both let out sharp breaths, your eyes fall down to your work, hands going back to the task out of habit and desire to distract yourself.
shishishishi
Ruggie is silent and back in his perch across from you once your head snaps up to look at him. His small grin is intoxicating, his tail is swishing in pride like he's just won a great victory in some war you had no idea he was fighting. It is a smug look, too smug for someone who just put you through a few days of mental torture.
Maybe you'll make him some food next time, you'll see who is smug after that.
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iamasaddie · 10 months
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take what you need, darling, I’m just here for you
Joel Miller × !Reader
summary: there was this constant emptiness inside you only he could fill.
warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI; unprotected PinV; Joel has a massive cock; oral (f receiving); fingering; praise kink; no use of Y/N
word count: 1.8k~
a/n: one more with zero plot and all the porn, sorry lol. not proofread, we die like the man who has never been golfing except for that one time. dedicated to my constant source of love and support @bearsbeetsbeskar
MY MASTERLIST
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The sounds of the man between your thighs devouring your pussy were pornographic to say the least. He wasn't shy, wasn't putting on a show, he was just hungry for you. Starving for your taste and smell, for the very essence of your being. His flattened tongue lapped at your entrance with abandon, deafening slurping sounds that would make you blush if you hadn't been on the brink of breaking into a thousand pieces. Your hands were pulling on his almost grey hair and you whined as he slapped them away without distracting from his favorite activity for a second when you tried to lift his head up.
"Joel, please, just..." If anyone heard you, they'd think you were hysterical, crying your eyes out. Thank God no one was around. "Please, just fuck me already, I can't be like this... I'm so empty."
He finally lifted his face, warm eyes would look angelic if the lower part of his face wasn't drenched with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal.
"Baby, I ain't the one to brag, but you're not ready for me yet. I will break you tiny cunt." As if to prove his point he slid two of his thick fingers inside you without warning. The pressure to your walls made you gasp, eyes widening in surprise, but you stayed persistent.
"I don't care, I need you."
"We can just do this for a while, what do you say?" He leaned down to place a wet opened-mouth kiss to your throbbing clit while continuing pushing his fingers in and out of you with a steady pace. His movements eased up the fire of your need a little, you hummed in pleasure as he swiped his tense and firm muscle from where his fingers continuously slid into you harder and harder to the top of your slit. "When we get to four, I promise I'll fuck your greedy pussy dumb," he murmured, nosing your heated sweat-licked skin.
"It's not enough," you almost cried. The thickness of his fingers was pleasant, but you needed him to overwhelm you. To make you so full that there was no empty space inside you.
"You can't -”
"I can." You yanked at his hair and made him look into your eyes. There must've been something in there, because he just nodded. He had never seen such desperation on your face, it was almost painful. He studied your face for the longest moment, nodding at the end and you let out a heavy happy breath. He was silent as he leaned back and stood up to take his boxers off. Without the weight of his body on top of you, the feeling of emptiness and cold became even more apparent, but you distracted yourself watching your man undress.
He was big, both in terms of his personality and appearance. His shoulders were broad to the point that no shirt could ever hide, his body strong, but not the type you'd see on a man who frequents gym. His was the strength that came with his lifestyle, the strength that makde you feel secure. His belly was the softest part of him and you could never help yourself from squeezing him a little whenever you hugged him from behind. You paid attention to the thick thighs that were covered in soft dark hairs and your mouth salivated when you imagined covering them in bite marks.
"Baby?" He'd already been standing there, in all his naked glory, and if not for the half-darkness you'd see a red blush spreading from his cheeks to his chest under your uncovered ogling. "See something you like?"
That was when your gaze travelled to the thing your needed most. Fully erect, his cock didn't stand upright due to the heaviness of it. Long, thick and beautiful, you loved it so much. It made your breath catch and any other time you'd chastise yourself for basically objectifying Joel, but you couldn't help it today, when it was teasingly swaying inches away from you. He was a good 7 inches, a bit lighter than the rest of his tanned body, his shaft was thick enough for you not to be able to wrap your hand around it and it made you dizzy. The bulbous head colored a shade of darker pinkish-brown was looking even bigger now that he was painfully erect, welcomingly glistening with precum. A set of big balls was drawn up, indicating his need to cum and you could only anticipate how full you'd feel once he empties himself inside you.
He smirked at your silly nod as you licked your lips, throat suddenly dry. When he returned to his favorite place between your legs and let his cock lay heavily on the slit between your puffy pussy lips, he bracketed you with arms on the each side of your shoulders and put his lips on yours in a chaste kiss. "You're sure?" He looked for a single trace of doubt in your eyes but found none.
“I've never been more sure about anything in my life." You whispered the last coherent sentence of the night.
He swiped his nose on your wet cheek as he aligned the tip of him with your pulsing hole and before your could think about it, he captured your lips in a bruising kiss simultaneously sliding inside your heat with one unbelievably long push.
You wish you could reciprocate his kiss, but the pressure of his cock tearing you apart just forced to open your mouth wide in a silent scream, breaths coming in and out of you in an unsteady rhythm making you feel like there was too much and not enough oxygen in your lungs at the same time. Joel stopped moving and bit your jaw in a series of tiny nips. "Fuck, baby girl, you're so fucking tight." He was panting, his breathing labored and if you weren't out of it you'd see beads of sweat raining down his temples.
"Are - - Is that?" You couldn't finish the phrase, but he new what you wanted to ask. It wasn't possible that he wasn't fully inside you, was it? You felt a tear rolling down your eyes and leave a tickling trail to your ear when Joel bit on your earlobe whispering.
"Jus' a little bit more, my love. You're doing so good for me, pussy so wet and tight swallowing me whole. Can you take a little bit more? We can stop."
You shook your head, hands gripping his neck as your nails sinked into the soft skin without a doubt leaving bloody crescents. "More," you moaned, voice strained, "I can... I need more."
"I know you can, sweetheart. Of course you can, you're so so perfect. He peppered your face with kisses, pushing the tears out of your eyes with his lips, with his love. Slowly, he pushed all the way in and you let yourself go as you felt the coarse hairs on his balls pressing against the skin of your ass. "That's it, my perfect girl, that's it." You didn't know if he was calming you or himself and at the moment you couldn't care less.
You were so full.
It was like he pushed everything out of you - oxygen, blood, thoughts - just to make enough space for himself, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You were stretched past your limit, tense muscles that you forced to relax cried in pain and pleasure. Your walls couldn't stop contracting around him and you felt every ridge, every vein, you felt the thick blood coursing through his cock with your pussy.
The feeling was overwhelming to the point that you wanted to weep in satisfaction, but all the liquids you had in your body were currently seeping out of your pussy, making you sleek, letting his cock move inside you with the smallest bit of pain.
"Okay?" Joel asked in your lips, unable to make eyes contact with you hiding behind closed eyelids.
"Full." If this was a confession, then next word was a prayer to your own personal God, "move."
The slow drag of his hips forcing his cock in and out of you was the most beautiful torture. As soon as he slid out of your needy swollen walls, you wanted to hug his waist tighter with your legs, digging your heels into the soft meat of his ass, and push him back inside harder, deeper, stronger.
His feverish praise flooded out of his lips mixing with kisses, licks and caresses marking every part of your body he could reach. You could barely understand the breathy words, mind too preoccupied with what your body was experiencing.
'my baby' - 'I love your body' - 'such a tight pussy' - 'can't ever get enough of you' - 'gonna stay inside you forever' - 'perfectperfectperfectperfect'
You basked in his praise like a cat basking in the first warmth of spring sun. Your body was full of him, his voice filled your ears, his tongue filled your mouth, his cock filled your pussy. It was like you wasn't even your own person anymore, you were a part of him, a succubus, a feverish virus that was forever attached to his body. You have never felt more happy.
With every trust the head of his cock punched the sweet spot inside of you, bruising your insides as his pubic bone teased your clit and made your cried more and more greedy. If you could, you would swallow him whole, bones and all, just to keep him with you forever, just to feel full forever.
The pleasure coiled inside your belly, fire spreading from your center and slowly swallowing your chest, limbs, head. Joel's movements grew gradually faster, the slam of his hips stronger and you knew he was close even before he whispered so in your ear.
"Let go for me, beautiful. Let me feel you. Let me fill you." Every grunted word a bite to your soul, somewhere only he could reach. You nodded, the pain of bumping your forehead into his didn't reach your mind because every nerve ending in your body was begging for Joel. Begging for release only he could give you.
Thrust, thrust, thrust.
Scream.
Your orgasm reminded you of an overflowing bath, water drowning the floors, splashing over the border of the white ceramics when someone carelessly decided to jump into it. Your moans were a heartbreaking sonnet of pleasure, mixing with Joel's orgasmic grunts in the perfect choir. You felt him pulse inside you, pushing his release both in and out of you as his body was overtaken by exhaustion and he fell on top of you, his body a welcomed weight, his softening cock keeping your pleasures sealed inside the treasure chest of your body.
Raking your fingers through his wet hair, your forced words out of your parched throat.
"I can't feel my bones."
He hummed, and then lifted his eyes to yours, confused eyes trying to find yours in the dark. "Can you ever feel your bones?"
Your mixed laughter filled the stillness of the room and you thought that it'd keep you satisfied until you feel empty again.
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toournextadventure · 11 months
Text
our little secret ii
Summary: You're never one to turn down a weekend with Lorraine. But everyone seems to think it's the perfect time to remind you of the reality of the situation. At least the rodeo clowns get paid for what they do; you seem to do the job for free. At least you get to have some fun with Lorraine before resuming your Good Girl act.
Word Count: 8.5k Warnings: 18+ smut, swearing, religious trauma, religious homophobia, blasphemy Pairing: Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader (our little secret i) (our little secret ii) (our little secret iii) (our little secret iv)
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"Mornin', darlin'."
You kept your eyes trained on Beau in the corral when you felt Huck's arm brush against your own before he slung it over your shoulder. Instinct had you leaning into him. He smelled like fresh sawdust and hay. Smelled like comfort.
"Mornin'," you replied softly.
"Where's your better half?" He asked. That did have you tilting your head to look up into his sparkling eyes and kind smile.
"Which one?" You asked. "RJ's?" You turned to look back at the corral. "Or ours?"
"That idjit ain't nobody's better half." You felt his body shake with a laughter that you couldn't quite hear.
"Ain't that God's honest truth," you said when his fella, bless his heart, tried to wave to the both of you and was toppled over by a stray calf. 
"I meant Lorraine," Huck said once you both made sure Beau was on his feet and safe again. "She at another shoot?"
"Yeah," you sighed. Lorraine's smile flashed in your mind's eye. "Guess they're gettin' good at it cause they're gone all the time now."
"Ain't that a good thing though?" He asked. The bell rang, making you jump. You hated when they tested the damn bell. "Means they're doin' somethin' right."
"Guess so," you mumbled to yourself.
You did hope they were doing something right. Lorraine mentioned that she genuinely loved making the films; not always being in them, but the behind-the-scenes, technical side of it. Her face always lit up when she talked about it and you would never wish for her to fail even if it meant RJ had to succeed with her.
But you missed her. You missed having more than two or three days together at a time before she had to leave again. It wasn’t her fault, and you wanted her to have the successful film career she wanted, and you honestly trusted Jackson more than you trusted RJ. None of it really meant much when you couldn’t even talk to her though.
Another calf ran in front of you, beating out the wrangler once again and pulling you back to the present. Seemed they would be the winners over the weekend if they kept it up. It always made for a less than exciting rodeo if the calves kept winning. What fun was there in no one even qualifying? It wasn't like there was any real compet-
"-What the hell is he doin'?" You asked, pointing to where Beau was donning a very specific vest.
"Better not be what I think it is," Huck mumbled before putting his fingers to his lips and whistling.
Beau turned instantly, eyes landing on the both of you for only a moment before he started jogging over. His boots left the smallest cloud of dust behind him until he hopped onto the fence you were both leaning against. He instinctively went to kiss Huck before remembering where he was, redirecting the kiss to your cheek.
"What on God's green earth do you think you're doin' with that on?" You asked as you pulled him by the top of his vest.
“One of the bullfighters got hurt,” he said. “I offered to help since we don’t compete this weekend.”
“Like hell you did,” you said. Just the mere thought of him being in that corral with the bulls had your pulse racing in your ears.
“It’s one weekend, darlin’,” he said with that stupid smile that always got him into trouble. “It’ll be fun-”
“-Beauregard Callaway, you march back over there right this instant and tell them no.”
“You just got full-named,” Huck said quietly enough for only the three of you to hear.
“I can’t just quit-”
“-Huck,” you scolded, turning to look at him next. “Tell him,” you gestured your head to Beau and raised your brows, “before I full-name you next.”
Huck looked between you and Beau as if he was caught between two lions. Which he was, but he better be more afraid of you. Beau was his lover, sure, but you were the scary one. Out of your whole friend group when you were all little, you were the one capable of instilling the fear of god into anyone.
Now was no exception.
“I’d tell ‘em no, baby,” he said to Beau with a shrug.
“That the best you can do?” You scolded again.
“Darlin’, you know he don’t listen to me-”
“-That’s enough, the both of you,” Beau interrupted. “I done said yes already and it’s only one weekend.” He looked you each in the eye before he smiled. “Ain’t never been hurt before.”
“And you ain’t gonna get hurt, right Beauregard?” You asked with a raised brow.
“If the crick don’t rise,” he said with a wink at Huck before hopping off the fence and starting his walk back to the gate.
“You get hurt and I’ll kill you myself!” You shouted after him. He didn’t look back, but flipped his hand up in a half-hearted wave of acknowledgment. Huck laughed beside you and you turned to glare at him next. “You too, Hucksley.”
“Well shit, darlin’, no need to drag me into it,” he grumbled as his smile fell. “I ain’t even the one in trouble.”
“Not yet,” you said quietly before looking back out at the corral once again.
It was mid-afternoon by the time they let Beau go for the rest of the evening, convinced he was good enough for the actual rodeo over the weekend. You made sure to slap him upside the head when he came back around just as an added threat. If he got hurt, you would make it a dozen times worse without hesitation.
“We headin’ to your daddy’s again?” Huck asked when he started the truck up.
“Think so,” you said as you leaned forward between the two front seats. “Momma was s’posed to make supper.” You took note of their linked hands near the center console and smiled to yourself.
Would you ever be able to hold Lorraine’s hand out in the open like that? To just drive around, laughing and singing to the radio without a care in the world? It was finally the ‘80s, surely that had to count for something. Not that the year had anything to do with the many other reasons you weren’t with her.
You’re going to hell, your mind reminded you. It’s a sin. Right. There was a much bigger reason. It continued to eat you from the inside out, picking you apart like a kid feeding bread to the ducks at the pond. Or, what was that old story you heard back in school… Prometheus, that Greek god. The one who had his liver pecked out day after day.
Yeah. Yeah, that’s how it felt.
“Seems your favourite family came over too,” Beau said when he parked the car in front of your house beside the Days’ van. Well, RJ’s van.
“Fantastic,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes.
You didn’t wait for them as you stormed out, slamming the door so hard it shook the truck. No waiting as you stomped up the porch steps, standing outside with your hand on the door handle and taking the moment to just breathe. Daddy couldn’t see you losing it, because what could you possibly say to explain it?
Hey daddy, sorry I’m upset, I’m just tired of seeing the girl I love be with a man that can help her achieve her dreams. Yeah, because that would go over so well.
The moment your breathing had evened out enough to be considered normal, you entered the house to hear excessive talking and laughter. Typical for your household, and it actually brought a smile to your lips. You could hear your parents, and the Days, and the dogs were yappin’ and it was a wonderful atmosphere.
But when you stepped through the kitchen doorway and saw Lorraine sitting on RJ's lap, that sinking feeling settled in your stomach again. He's her boyfriend, you tried to reason, Huck has to watch Beau do the same thing. But that didn't ease the ache from every breath.
"Evenin', y'all," Huck said when he and Beau creeped up behind you. He patted your shoulder lightly before squeezing by you to make his rounds.
"How was setup?" Your daddy asked when Beau shook his hand.
"Smooth as ever," Beau answered with a grin that made your daddy smile.
It made you sick.
"Momma, can I help?" You asked as you walked over to where she was cooking. You didn't want to listen to everyone's conversations.
It was impossible to stop yourself from cocking your head to listen whenever Lorraine spoke. You wished she would speak louder; she was always far too quiet even when she was the most comfortable. A soft voice for a soft girl, your momma had said one day before Lorraine went off to college.
She still tried to hide her face, but not quite so much in your house. Maybe it was the atmosphere everyone created, or just the fact everyone knew it to be a “house of God himself,” thanks to your daddy. You didn’t know, all you knew was you preferred to be in either yours or her house; at least she let you see all of her that way.
Jimmy, Liz, and Roy came in from the back door while you were helping your momma set the food on the table. Jimmy and Liz were all over each other, which was no surprise, and he got a nice smack to the head with momma’s dish towel. Roy on the other hand looked utterly exhausted. Something which was also no surprise.
When your momma announced dinner was ready, everyone took their seats at the large table in the dining room. Huck and Beau sat together, of course, and so did all the other couples. Leaving you to sit with Roy, who gave you a small, reserved smile with a far away look in his eyes.
“Hey, bubba,” you said quietly while everyone else was still talking far too loud.
“Alright y’all,” your daddy said in his booming preacher’s voice, “join hands so we can pray.”
You all did exactly that. Beau gently grasped your left hand while Roy held your right in a vice grip. As your daddy prayed, you could feel the little bones in your hand shift when Roy gripped you tighter, and you knew it would be bruised tomorrow morning. But it seemed to help even his breathing, so you kept your mouth shut until daddy was done.
“Amen,” your daddy said, and everyone mumbled their own amens to follow suit.
Everyone started serving themselves, conversations flowing steadily and easily over the sound of utensils against plates. The dogs were smart, they stayed under the table in between yours and Roy’s legs. They knew you two were most likely to feed them, and what do you know, you always did. You tried to be sneaky about it, hushing them up when they smacked too loud.
Roy didn’t care, he just shamelessly gave them whatever he didn’t want.
“How’s the film business goin’, RJ?” Your daddy asked. You nearly choked on your food at the question.
“Good,” RJ answered with a slow nod as he finished chewing. “I’m hopin’ to have another one finished in a few weeks.”
“Am I ever gonna get to see one of them films?” Your daddy asked.
“Absolutely not,” you said quickly. Far too quickly. Everyone turned to look at you with a mix of emotions. “It just- it ain’t your style,” you tried to explain; a bead of sweat dripped down the back of your neck. “Not a Western, you know?”
“Hmm,” your daddy hummed. “You’re right then, I’ll pass.”
Everyone in the younger group sighed in relief, more than happy that your daddy had agreed with you. Conversation flowed again, going from the rodeo to Lorraine’s college to Jimmy’s seminary. Never to you or Roy, who everyone had determined over the last few weeks was going to stay put. You were no longer going to seminary because someone had to lead the church, and Roy was staying because he had lost his mind.
A typical situation.
“All I know is y’all better be careful out there,” your daddy said. He always seemed to be the voice that brought you out of your own thoughts. It probably meant something deeper that you didn’t want to think too hard about. “The world is turnin’ into a dangerous place.”
“It’s always been dangerous, Pap,” Jimmy chuckled. “We just got more TV and radio to tell us about it.”
“I’m serious, Jim,” your daddy said. “I don’t want none of y’all to get mixed up with those crowds out there.”
“And what crowds would that be, daddy?” You asked. All of you had half-hidden smiles because he usually had something ridiculous to say that you would all agree to and then laugh about later.
“Those damn homosexuals, for one,” he said with a grimace. Everyone around the table froze.
Your eyes stayed glued to the fork you had just stabbed into a potato. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you felt everyone staring, looking around at each other in uncomfortable silence. With your pulse rushing in your ears and your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, you swore everyone else could hear it too.
“Gonna be infectin’ us with their disease if we don’t watch out,” he continued as if he didn’t care how everyone had stopped moving. “Y’all better stay away.”
“They’re just people, Pap,” Jimmy said in a small voice. A blackness started to encroach on your vision.
“Dangerous, Godless people,” your daddy said. “Which is why y’all have to stick together.”
“They’re still kids Robert-”
“-Stay right by God,” he interrupted your momma. "All of y'all are in good, Godly relationships,” you could feel him looking at you but you still couldn’t look up. It felt like the room was closing in on you. "Stay that way."
“We’ll be careful,” RJ said, his voice putting a lump in your throat that you couldn’t swallow.
“Keep him around, Lorraine,” your daddy said. “He’ll take care of you-”
-you slammed your hands on the table and stood up. The ringing in your ears was drowning everything out and that blackness was covering more and more ground. You could feel each individual grain of the wooden table underneath your fingertips.
He’ll take care of you.
“I ain’t feelin’ too good,” you said around the invisible ball of cotton in your mouth. “May I be excused?”
“Sure, honey-”
-you didn’t wait for your momma to finish talking before you left the kitchen through the back door, your feet taking you straight to the barn. He’ll take care of you. Why did he have to say that? Why did he have to say that in front of you? Wasn’t it enough that you had to break bread with RJ without getting it thrown in your face?
He'll take care of you.
You bit back the scream threatening to claw up your throat until you tasted blood. It filled your mouth until you swore you would choke on it. Part of you hoped you would; give you an excuse to end the mental anguish that constantly flooded your thoughts.
He’ll take care of you.
Like hell he would. Like hell. He couldn’t even take care of himself, how could anyone even possibly think he could take care of Lorraine? All he was was a wannabe filmmaker that wouldn’t even dare show y’all his films. So how on god’s green earth would he take care of Lorraine? Your Lorraine?
The dull thud of your boots on the dirt transitioned to the whispered slap of concrete when you walked through the barn doors and everything stopped. Stepping into the barn was like stepping into another world; all the noise and troubles from the outside ceased to exist, even if just for a few moments. 
It was replaced by the smell of gravel, dirt, and oil. Occasionally sawdust depending on the time of year. The separation was in the temperature drop, thanks to the partial concrete floor and huge space. There was something hypnotising about the sound of the metal walls creaking in the wind outside, yet everything was painfully still inside.
Something brushed up against your jean-clad leg and you nearly jumped from the intrusion to your thoughts. But then you took notice of the black and white tail curling around your calf and your heart rate started to lower again.
“Hey, Miss Kitty,” you mumbled as you bent down and held your hand out to the grumpy old barn cat. “You get locked in?”
She didn’t even dignify your question with a meow before walking off, her tail slinking away from your leg slowly until she was heading out the barn door. Not even a glance back to say goodbye. The complete nerve of that cat.
“I hope you done get ‘et by a coyote,” you called after her as she continued to sashay away. “Then we can finally quit pickin’ up strays.”
“Be nice to her,” Lorraine said softly, though the barn amplified it. “After all, we picked you up.”
“No, you picked RJ up,” you shot back while you straightened back up. “He just proves my point.”
“It isn’t his fault,” she said just as softly as she stepped closer to you. You took a single step back.
“No it ain’t,” you said. Stay right by God. “Clearly it’s God's.”
“Don’t go down that rabbit hole,” Lorraine warned, stepping forward again and placing a hand on your cheek before you could run away.
Her hand was soft, far too soft to be touching you. Why would she be so gentle with you when you were nothing but hidden anger and blasphemous words? And yet you wouldn’t push her away to spare her from your own sins. You wanted to pull her closer, feel her skin under your touch, have her name fall from your lips like a prayer.
“Please stay,” you whispered when you finally dared to meet her eyes.
The short nails on her fingers scratched lightly against your cheek. It was a little too light, hypnotising in the wrong way. There was nothing grounding about it, you felt like you were in a daze. You needed something more, something to drag you back down to earth where you belonged.
“Please,” you whispered again in a broken voice.
“I can’t,” Lorraine whispered back before leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Everyone is waiting.”
And that right there? That killed you.
—---
At the rate you were going, you might as well start getting paid to be the rodeo clown.
You didn’t know which one of those pea-pickin bastards had done the deed, but someone had invited Lorraine and RJ to the rodeo for the weekend. Part of you highly suspected your mother, but the bashful look on Huck’s face almost made you think it was him. Regardless of who it was, you hadn’t been prepared to deal with the both of them over the weekend.
Was getting rejected in your own barn not punishment enough? Now you had to get publicly humiliated too? Not that anyone knew of your little secret, but it still rubbed salt in the wound. At least you could be down near the corral while RJ and Lorraine were in the stands behind the safety railing. Kept them far enough away from you to relax.
And maybe gave you the perfect position to look at Lorraine, but that was just an added bonus to the situation. It was no less than you deserved for having to put up with all of them for the weekend. You could be forgiven for wanting something pretty to look at while you were having your heart ripped out.
“He looks mighty handsome today, don’t he?” Huck asked, his eyes glued to where Beau was standing around with some of the other volunteers.
“No he don’t,” you said without even looking. “Looks like he needs his ass whooped.”
“You ain’t even lookin’,” he huffed.
You turned your head to finally look where Beau was standing and, you hated to admit, he did look mighty handsome in his new jeans and shirt.
“I looked,” you said, doing your best not to smile. “Still needs his ass whooped.”
"You're so grumpy,” Huck grumbled. You turned your head back to where Lorraine was sitting and felt an icy grip enclose around your heart. "You need to get laid."
“Ain’t that the truth,” you whispered.
The rodeo continued on.
You could tell Huck was getting anxious when the team roping started. Unlike Beau, he actually used the sport in the real world on his neighbour’s ranch. A skill that Beau considered recreational, yet to Huck it was necessary. It made for a fun dynamic, you wouldn’t deny it, especially when they got into arguments about the rules and regulations. Always did make for an exciting night.
But now you could tell he just missed it. He was never one to enjoy sitting on the sidelines, even when it wasn’t his own sport. It was sweet, truly it was, but if he didn’t quit bouncing his leg on the railing and forcing you to suffer with him, you were going to throw him to the bulls. And not the sexy ones.
“I’m beggin’ you to stay still,” you groaned. You reached your hand out and pressed down on his shoulder to ground him into the dirt. “You’re worse than Jim on Christmas.”
“I ain’t doin’ nothin’,” Huck said even as you could practically feel his body vibrating from the effort to stay still. “But you are awful pretty when you beg.”
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” you said as you did your best not to laugh at the ridiculous smile on his face.
"You askin' Lorraine to the hoedown tonight?" Huck asked once the roping was done. Now that you both had a bit of time to look away, it was the perfect time to keep talking.
"Course not," you said with a scrunch of your nose. "She's with RJ."
"Not tonight," he said with a shake of his head and a sniffle; it must have been from the dust. "He's leavin' now."
You turned when Huck gestured his head and saw he was right; RJ was in the process of packing his stuff up. He never had been one for rodeo life. Hell, he didn't even enjoy the events to begin with. All he ever wanted was to try and make a good film out of it and that just wasn't easy enough for him. It'd be a shame if someone finally told him you had to know the sport to film it well.
A damn shame, that was for sure.
"Hurry up before she leaves too," Huck said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You opened your mouth to argue, but he pushed you forward off the railing. The dirt flew into a small cloud around your boots when you landed, and you sent him a quick glare before jogging over to where Lorraine and RJ were standing up. She seemed much more eager to stay, but you knew she wouldn't if she felt she was alone. That damn shotgun had done a number to her, physically and mentally.
"Leavin' already?" You asked as you quickly hopped up on the railing to be face-to-face with the lovely couple.
"Tryin' to," RJ said with a polite smile that said mind your business. "But we'll be back tomorrow."
"There's a hoedown tonight," you said before he could drag Lorraine away. "Me and the boys were wantin' Lorraine to join us." She turned to look at you with the slightest sparkle in her eye. "Like old times."
"Alright," RJ said without hesitation. It was evident he just wanted to get out of the stadium. Rodeos really weren't his cup of tea. "Need a ride home?"
"She can stay with me," you said before Lorraine could even open her mouth. "Also like old times."
Even though you weren't looking at her, you could feel Lorraine's eyes boring holes into the side of your head. She wasn't stupid; she knew exactly what you were doing. "Old times" just meant Huck and Beau ran off while you and Lorraine had your own fun. But there was the catch; only y'all knew what "old times" meant. Everyone else just thought you were acting like kids all over again.
Oh how sweet.
"Then I'll see you tomorrow, Raine," RJ said, leaning over to give her one more kiss. You quickly wiped the instinctive snarl off your face when he pulled away. "Y'all have fun."
"We will," you and Lorraine said at the same time.
You both watched and waited until he was out of sight before you pulled her over the railing. She yelped out in surprise before her feet hit the dirt and you could take her hand, leading her to where Huck was still waiting. He gave her his best smile and pulled her into a hug when you both got close enough.
"So we've successfully kidnapped you for the night?" Huck asked.
"Seems so," Lorraine said with a raised brow. "Would've been nice to have a warnin’ first."
"Keep your watchdog away for more than two seconds and I'll warn you next time," you said.
"He's not a watchdog," Lorraine said as you both climbed up on the railing, her in between you and Huck.
"Oh, my apologies," you said softly, "I meant your parasite."
"Oh hush up,” she mumbled as she slapped both you and Huck, who weren’t even trying to stifle your laughter. “You need to be nicer to him.”
“Actually, the Lord told me personally that I can be mean,” you said after you managed to calm your laughter down. “I ain’t one to disobey the Big Man.”
“You are a blasphemer that’s goin’ to hell,” Lorraine retorted. But the smile on her face was enough to show her intentions.
“You two are disgustin’,” Huck grumbled; he also had a smile. “Just go make out in a stall already and spare me the tension.”
“Oh hush up,” you and Lorraine said in unison.
“As if you and Beau aren’t makin’ kissy faces at each other all the time,” Lorraine continued.
“You have no idea,” you said, loving the light in her eyes when she looked at you. “You should see ‘em when we go out to eat, you’d think I was nothin’ more than last week’s sermon.”
“Laugh it up,” Huck said with a nod as he looked out at the corral. You hadn’t paid attention to the event and noticed it was finally coming to an end. About time, you thought with a smile. “Once you two get some alone time then we’ll talk.”
“We can handle ourselves much better than you two,” you said quickly, the timer going off immediately after and making you jump. Lorraine’s hand on your arm helped you settle rather quickly.
Huck opened his mouth to say something else but was soon distracted by something in the corral. You and Lorraine shared a smile when you noticed Beau was on his way over. Tease as much as you did, they were rather adorable. It was a genuine love and admiration, one that you didn’t even see in your own parents, one that you wished you could have a little more easily.
“Hey, Rainey,” Beau said as he jumped onto the fence and planted a sloppy kiss on Lorraine’s cheek. “Nice to see you unshackled for once.”
“Is this all y’all ever talk about?” Lorraine asked.
All three of you looked at each other before giving a few nods. “Yeah.”
“I changed my mind,” she said with a nod to herself, “you’re all goin’ to hell.”
“You love us,” Beau said with a grin and another kiss to her forehead. She tried to push him away halfheartedly before leaning into his touch. “What were y’all talkin’ about before I came over?”
“These fine ladies think they can keep their hands to themselves better than we can,” Huck said with a raised brow.
“That so?” Beau asked.
“God’s truth,” you said with as much attitude as you could muster. Around you, the rodeo fell into controlled chaos as everyone started setting up for tomorrow’s events.
“Then how about we have ourselves a little wager,” Beau said as he locked eyes with you.
“Lay it on me, stud,” you shot back.
“If you beautiful ladies give in first, you,” he pointed at you, “have to go watch Lorraine film her next film.”
“Wait, hang on-”
“-and if you lose?” Lorraine asked, interrupting you quickly. The competitiveness was building behind her eyes, you could see it.
“We’ll go with Lorraine,” Beau said, “and we’ll even film a scene.”
“Hold up, baby-”
“-you’re on,” Lorraine interrupted Huck. She reached her hand out to shake Beau’s. “Y’all are gonna look so pretty on camera.”
“I don’t like this game anymore,” you said, looking at each of them hoping to see mercy in someone’s eyes.
“Me either,” Huck whispered.
You both looked at each other and sighed softly. What had the two of you done to fall for such competitive people? And how come Lorraine was the only one in this situation who had nothing to lose? You were starting to get the sneaking suspicion that they all just wanted to watch you squirm.
It was going to be a very long night.
—---
“Hey Huck?” You said when you brought the next round of beers over to the small table the four of you had commandeered. 
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m in love,” you said with a sigh as you both looked out at the dancefloor where Lorraine and Beau were two-stepping like it was their last night on earth.
“You and me both,” he said with his own dreamy sigh.
The music from the local band was loud, almost painfully so, but you didn’t entirely care. Not when you were warm from the alcohol and laughter echoing through the barn. RJ had once called the run-down bar a death trap, and you couldn’t disagree with him. The wooden roof and walls had holes that no one cared to fix up and dust constantly fell from the rafters. But it was home to most of you, a place where everyone could get away and have some fun on a Saturday night.
Hell, it was where you had first kissed Lorraine. Your eyes trailed up to look at the dilapidated loft. If you focused, you could see the exact spot where Lorraine had made the move, pushing you against the termite-eaten wall and kissed you as if she wouldn’t get another chance. Lucky for you both, you got plenty more chances.
Laughter from a very specific person brought you out of your memories, and you looked back at the dancefloor to see Beau twirling Lorraine around. Her face was lit up with a big, toothy, open mouthed smile that you couldn’t recall seeing since the accident. For once, she looked like she didn’t care when she twirled and exposed her scars. Like she was just that normal, carefree girl you had fallen in love with all those years ago.
“I think I wanna marry him,” Huck said softly.
“You and me both,” you repeated what he said earlier as you decided to chug the rest of your beer.
Don’t let anyone hear, your inner voice reminded you. Lest you get lynched. Right. Right, that was entirely a possibility. You looked around quickly, fully aware that no one would have heard Huck but still feeling that paranoia wash over you. Suddenly the beer and the atmosphere didn’t feel so homey.
“You look like someone spit in your cup,” Beau said, the sudden sound of his voice making you jump. “You alright?”
“Peachy,” you said with a smile, quickly finding Lorraine finding her seat beside you. “Just thinkin’, is all.”
“‘Bout what?” Lorraine asked as she grabbed the beer that was probably starting to turn warm. The snarl of her lips after that first sip confirmed it.
“How you better finish that beer whether it’s warm or not,” you said with a raised brow. “Paid good money for it.”
“You mean you didn’t flash a little smile and get ‘em for free?” Beau asked as he too took a sip of his now warm beer. He at least managed to play it off a little better than Lorraine.
“Most certainly not,” you said with a shake of your head. “I’ve gotta preach to most of these people in the mornin’, can’t have ‘em givin’ me free beer.”
“Wow,” Lorraine said with a quiet exhale as she leaned forward on the table, resting her chin in her hand. “Your life must be so tough.”
“It is,” you played along. “No good deed goes unpunished.”
“That in the Bible?” Huck asked.
“Not quite,” you said. “You’d know that if you went to church like you were s’posed to.”
“I fear I’d catch fire the second I stepped foot in that chapel,” he said with a laugh.
You’ll all catch fire.
Right.
You all continued talking, no longer interested in dancing as the music continued to drown out your conversations. Lorraine managed to scoot her stool a bit closer until her thigh was pressed against yours, and you very nearly rested your hand on her inner thigh. A cleared throat and a look from Huck was all it took to remind you of where you were, and you quickly placed your hand back in your own lap.
By the time you all started to get tired, most of the people had already gone home. The band was packing up and the makeshift bartender was officially out of alcohol. No doubt everyone would be ready to resume the hoedown tomorrow night after the rodeo finals, but for the night, everyone was done. The four of you followed suit, sending your goodnights to the few remaining stragglers as you all piled into Huck’s truck.
“Which home?” He asked; the most sober of you all, bless his little heart.
“We could all go back to mine,” you said as you leaned forward between the two front seats. “We’ve got the two lofts in the barn.”
“That work with y’all?” Huck asked, looking at Beau and Lorraine. They both nodded their agreement. “Then buckle up.”
You sat back in your seat and immediately felt Lorraine lay her head on your shoulder. If the amount of drinks she had gone through were any indication, she was properly buzzed. The warmth of her hand resting on your thigh, scratching lightly, was another perfect indication.
“Hands to yourself,” Beau said as you met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’d hate for you to lose the bet.”
“You still goin’ on about that?” Huck asked.
“You said we couldn’t fuck,” Lorraine said with a sleepy voice, “not that we couldn’t touch.”
“Language,” you scolded her lightly. She didn’t even seem fazed in the slightest.
“I’m watchin’ you,” Beau said even as he closed his eyes. “Bunch ‘a cheaters.”
“Did I tell you how unfair this bet is?” You asked before lifting your hand to scratch at Lorraine’s scalp. She practically purred under your touch.
“It’s plenty fair,” Beau said without looking back.
“All three of y’all can get indecent whenever you want,” you said, “I can’t.”
“We can fix that,” Lorraine mumbled.
“Hush and go to sleep,” you whispered before pressing a quick kiss to her head and sitting back up. “It ain’t fair.”
“She’s got a point, baby,” Huck said with a small shake of his head. “We got her at a disadvantage.”
“Shoulda thought about that before you let your girl agree to the bet,” Beau said anyway. “You can always admit defeat.”
“Go to hell, Beauregard,” you mumbled, to which both men up front laughed like hyenas.
Lorraine was thoroughly asleep by the time you all pulled up to the barn. Thankfully it was far enough away from the house that your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up. The only potential issue would be if Roy was sleeping in the barn, but he had started hiding away in the shed a few hundred yards away, so you weren’t too worried. If anything, you would just let the boys sleep in the barn while you took Lorraine inside to your room.
“Come on, baby,” you whispered into Lorraine’s ear accompanied by a slight shake of her shoulders.
She grumbled once, not even saying any words, but slowly sat up. Her eyes were barely open and her hair was mused just enough to make her look like a little kid again. It reminded you of all your sleepovers, all those nights before you had realised your feelings for her. The good ole days.
You helped ease her out of the back of the truck. Without any hesitation, you turned slightly and squatted down until she wrapped her arms around your neck and you stood back up. Even though she was nearly asleep again, you couldn’t help but think of how light she was on your back. Sometimes you forgot just how small she was, how fragile she could be.
“You two on the right?” Huck asked as he guided his own partner around; it seemed Beau had drunk a bit too much too.
“Yeah,” you said with a nod, “y’all’s stuff should still be up on the left.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “Y’all get some sleep.”
“Night Huck,” you said with a smile before making the way up to the loft that you had claimed as yours as soon as it had been built.
It was a nice little spot, you wouldn’t try to hide it. There weren’t any real walls, but you had hung some curtains around the perimeter to create a sense of privacy. Tucked into the far corner was a single bed, something more reminisce of an army cot than anything else, with only an excess of blankets and a pillow on top. A few records scattered around, an old record player, and your grandpappy’s old guitar were the only remaining decorations.
You were gentle when you placed Lorraine on the cot, being careful as she slid off and laid on her side. She looked peaceful, with her hair no longer hiding her face. When would she believe you when you told her she was the most beautiful girl in the world? Would she ever believe you? If not then you needed to make sure RJ told her, because she deserved to feel loved again.
“Come here,” Lorraine said in a sleepy voice, pulling you out of your own head. Her arms were lifted as she made grabby hands at you, and how could you possibly say no to that?
With practiced ease, you toed your boots off and left them at the foot of the bed before climbing in. You were still in jeans and your button up but that was alright. There was no way you were going to be able to get Lorraine into pyjamas, so you would sleep in your clothes as well in solidarity.
“I’ve missed you,” she said softly, immediately pulling you close until she could press her lips to your neck.
“I missed you too,” you said as you tilted your head back to give her a little more access.
“A lot,” she continued. With a bit of shuffling she finally settled again, and you felt the warmth of her hand sliding under your shirt to rest on your stomach.
“Raine, baby,” you said when her hand continued to move up to play with the strap of your bra, “I ain’t losin’ this bet.”
“Sure you are,” she said.
“I don’t care what you film,” you started even as she pushed you onto your back and rolled on top of you, “but I’m not too keen on watchin’.”
“How will they know?” Her lips started trailing up your neck, leaving an inferno behind with each kiss. “They won’t be comin’ with us.”
“Raine.”
But you couldn’t really argue when her hand finally slipped under your bra, just the mere feel of her skin on your breast enough to have you exhaling harshly. Paired with the warmth of her lips on your jaw? Clearly it had been far too long because you were almost ready to come undone right then and there.
“Lose the bet,” she whispered into your ear. You let out a shaky exhale when her thumb brushed lightly against your nipple. “For me?”
Well now, how could you say no to that? Without any ounce of care, you grabbed Lorraine’s face and pulled her to your lips. She tasted of cheap beer and tequila and you didn’t care. Her lips were soft and you could feel her breath tickling your face and you just wanted more of her.
In the privacy of the loft you had no shame in the both of you stripping. She was still buzzed and was fumbling around like a horny teenager, but you supposed you were too in the excitement. You weren’t even helping each other, you were too eager to rid yourselves of the confines of clothing. At one point Lorraine nearly fell off the bed in an attempt to get her pants off, and you both had to sit and recover from the laughter you couldn’t be bothered to contain.
She was still giggling by the time she crawled back on top of you, her skin blazing hot against your own. God, you couldn’t remember the last time you had not only had the time, but the privacy to see all of her again. She sat straddling you and even though you hadn’t done anything yet, you could feel her arousal coating your stomach.
Her hands fell right below your breasts, grabbing you by the ribs to steady herself. It was clear that she was still intoxicated enough to be a little clumsy, but very much sober enough to know what she was doing. Although you certainly weren’t going to take the initiative, more than happy to let her take the lead with whatever she was comfortable with.
You rested your hands on her hips and looked at her while her eyes were closed. The summer had done her skin well, leaving her a good deal darker than she had been only a few months ago. Even the scars across her neck and face were a bit darker, not quite so startling in contrast to the rest of her. Even her freckles had become more apparent, and you wished you had a night to just count each and every one of them.
“You’re starin’,” Lorraine said above you, her eyes finally open as she looked down at you. “Why?”
“I just think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life,” you whispered.
Even in the dark you could see the slight flush on her cheeks. She let her head fall until her hair covered her face. You sat up quickly, keeping your hands on her hips so she wouldn’t fall. Her legs wrapped around your waist as you let her readjust and you could feel her breath on your face once again.
“If you really thought that,” she started as she let her hands trail up the sides of your breasts and over your chest until they rested on either side of your neck, “then you would lose this bet for me.”
“You just wanna watch me squirm,” you said. She leaned closer until her chest was pressed lightly against yours.
“Yes I do,” she mumbled against your lips before kissing you once again.
Her grip on your neck tightened as she tried to pull you closer. You gasped when she nipped your bottom lip, sighing quickly after when you felt her tongue sooth it immediately after. God, what she could do to you with only the simplest of touches. The slightest scratch of her nails on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.
You gave up on letting her take control the moment you felt her attempt to grind on you. There hadn’t been near enough teasing, but you could already feel how wet she was without even touching her. Not that you were complaining of course, you wanted nothing more than to show her how much you had missed her, how beautiful you really thought she was.
One of your thumbs rubbed circles on her hip while the other hand ran across her stomach and stopped on her pubic bone. She tried to grind again, whining into your mouth when she was met with nothing but air. Your thumb rubbing across her skin, almost touching her clit but not quite.
“Baby,” she whined.
“You gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered against her lips. “Can you do that for me?”
She nodded quickly, her hips moving just enough to catch your attention.
“I’ll stop if you’re too loud,” you continued even as you let your thumb fall a little lower. “Understand?”
“Yes,” she said.
That time when she moved her hips she was met with your thumb, and her breathy little moan sounded beautiful as her head fell to your shoulder. Oh she was so sensitive, and you hadn’t even properly touched her yet. Blame it on the alcohol, or RJ’s lack of ability, or both, but you wouldn’t complain. A needy Lorraine was a fun Lorraine.
“Touch me already,” Lorraine whined.
“So impatient,” you said as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to that space right below her ear. The one that always had her squirming whether it was intentional or not.
“You can love me later,” she continued. “Just fuck me.”
“That what you really want?” You asked, but she was already nodding her head against your shoulder before you finished the question. “Whatever you want, princess.”
Lorraine was so wet you didn’t even have to worry as you slid two fingers into her effortlessly. She bit your shoulder to keep herself quiet like the good girl she was. It took everything in you not to moan at how tight she was around you. No matter how many times you had her, it always caught you off guard in the best of ways.
“I ain’t losin’ for nothin’, sweetheart,” you said into Lorraine’s ear. “I wanna watch you make it up to me.”
“You’re an asshole,” she mumbled, yet it didn’t stop her from riding your fingers nice and slow. “That’s it, baby.”
She growled in frustration before sitting up again, placing her hands on your shoulders to use as leverage. You let her work herself up, refusing to move even a muscle to help her. If you were going to lose the bet, you were going to milk everything you could out of her as payback.
The rise and fall of her chest as she crawled to the edge was hypnotising. You knew she couldn’t get there quickly, let alone on her own, but you wanted to enjoy the view. The way she fucked herself on your fingers and let her mouth fall open when she angled her hips just right.
But when Lorraine’s head fell forward to rest against yours, you took mercy. Even at the extremely awkward angle that would leave your wrist sore in the morning, you thrust your fingers up to meet her, smiling to yourself at the guttural moan that left her mouth. Your free hand left her hip and moved around so you could rub her clit, her noises rising in pitch at the added sensation.
“Baby,” she exhaled. It almost sounded whiney, which meant she was close. She was oh so close.
“Let go, Rainey,” you said.
Even with her face so close to yours, you could still see the look on her face when she came. The silent scream, the way her eyes squeezed shut. It was a beautiful look that you didn’t think you would ever get tired of. Her nails dug into your shoulders and you could feel the intoxicating sting as they broke skin; you would need to be careful with your shirts for the next few days.
Her hips continued to stutter against your hands, erratic movements that you would have teased her for if you hadn’t been so entranced by her very being. You waited until her hips stilled before removing your fingers, making sure to be slow and gentle so as not to startle her. But then you pulled her closer again, feeling her arms wrap around your neck as you held her in your lap.
“There’s my good girl,” you whispered into her ear before kissing her temple. “You did so good.”
“I-”
-You both stopped talking quickly when you heard something. Something that sounded disgustingly familiar. Lorraine sat up in your lap and cocked her head to the side, listening intently. Maybe you had imagined it, surely it hadn’t been real. Right? There was no way.
Then you heard it again.
“Oh my god,” Lorraine groaned; you saw her smile before her head hit your shoulder again.
“Should I say something?” You asked. She opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted yet again.
“Don’t embarrass me,” she said.
“Never,” you whispered and kissed her head before shifting around. You placed your hands over both of her ears. “The Lord’s watchin’ y’all!”
“Fuck off, hypocrit,” Huck called back. His voice echoed off the walls of the barn. “Y’all ain’t so quiet either.”
“Sorry, can’t hear you.” Lorraine’s body shook above you with silent laughter. “I’m tryin’ to sleep like the Godly woman I am.”
“Shut the hell up,” Beau finally cut in, “you’re killin’ the mood.”
“Good night, heathens!” You called back. “Don’t wake the Devil.”
You and Lorraine both stifled your laughter as you laid back down in the cot. It was difficult to keep yourselves quiet. She shushed you and listened, but neither one of you could hear anything else.
“Either they’re more quiet, or you ruined their night,” Lorraine whispered.
“Hope I ruined it,” you grumbled. “If I have to lose, so do they.”
“And you call me competitive,” she said in her sleepy voice.
“You are,” you said with another kiss to her head. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
“You just love me.” Her voice got softer with each word.
“Yeah I do,” you said just as softly.
She didn’t say another word, falling asleep quickly thanks to the alcohol and orgasm. Her arm stayed draped around your bare waist as you held her closer, feeling her skin sticking to yours with the mix of sweat. Your father’s voice condemned you in your head, doing its best to ruin the feeling of peace and security you felt with Lorraine in your arms.
But in that moment, you simply closed your eyes and held her tighter. You were going to enjoy every moment with her until the day you died. Heaven could keep its angels; you would keep yours.
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schemmentis · 10 days
Text
La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 8
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7
Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour
Summary: Sunday dinner brings unexpected news.
WC: 2.8k
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You practically have to pry both your daughters from Barbara and vice versa after breakfast. You promise the twins they'll see her again soon. Your wife promises Barb to do her best to make it before next Sunday. 
You're home for much of the afternoon, unaware of the sudden lack of eyes following your every move. At least, for now. You entertain Cat and Rosie, reveling in the extra bit of twin time as you keep them out of the kitchen and thus out of your wife's way. 
Sunday morning means church and breakfast with Barb and Gerald. Sunday evening means family dinner at Melissa’s mother’s. A much different affair than it had been when you'd picked the girls up from there earlier in the week. In the middle of the week, it rivals your own house. Relatively quiet aside from your twins and whatever they're getting into. 
Tonight, the house is going to have a small handful of people in every room. Mel's large family is a decent portion of it but plenty of the kind of family neither of you are related to at all will be there too. The kind of family only had by the bond of the life you're all in. In reality, it'll probably be barely a fraction of that type of family too. The Schemmentis don't let just anyone in. A type of attitude that didn't begin with your wife, or even her mother. 
Since they had to dress up a bit in Sunday best this morning, you compromise with the twins on their evening wear. You send them off to pick what they want to wear to Nonna's, reminding them that you might have to change a piece or two that they pick if it doesn't match. You mentally correct it to be when they don't match. You know they both will pick things from four different kinds of outfits to make into one. Still, it helps when they have some kind of input when you can let them.
You peek over Melissa’s shoulder as the twins are off in their room choosing. She's still busy packing up what you'll be taking over with you that she's made over the afternoon. As if she hasn't made enough to feed your own family three times. 
You wrap your arms around her waist, kissing her cheek. “Lemme guess, the extra container is Sammy's branzino.” You mutter as you rest your chin to her shoulder.
“I ain't gonna let him say I ain't paid him. Not in front of Ma.” Melissa grumbles. 
You squeeze your arms lightly around her. “His job ain't over yet, anyhow. I told him to be ready to sue the assholes for tearing up Twelve Tables once everything has been cleared.”
Melissa laughs. “Damn right, amore.”
You smile to hear her laugh. Seeing her a bit more at ease today has healed a bit of the stress and wear you've felt. You steal a kiss or two before you let her focus on making sure she's packed everything exactly how she likes. 
“No more business talk, huh?” You say as you pull away. Family might be at the house tonight but Sundays are rest days. The one day of the week you don't have to worry like all the rest.
“Cat, you have to take a coat.” You sigh a few minutes later. Her little coat held in your hands as you all stood in the doorway, attempting to leave. You'd managed to get Rosie's on just fine but her sister refuses.
“Mam, the coat doesn't go!”
You look at your wife, a bit pointedly as you know exactly where this sudden phrase has been learned. Notoriously, Melissa is much more concerned with fashion than you are. You dress well, of course. It wouldn't do to be who you are and not dress well. Still, the phrase your daughter is echoing definitely didn't come with you. 
“Sweetheart,” Your wife says, looking at your eldest twin. “You have blue in your outfit, don't you?”
Cat looks down, studying her outfit before looking back up to Melissa. “I do!”
“Then your purple coat goes with it. You don't want to be cold, especially when we leave Nonna's do you?
Reluctantly, Cat holds her little arms out to you to put her coat on. You kiss her small head in affection even if she'd been making you exasperated a few moments ago. “Thank you, A storin.” You whisper before taking both her and her sister's hand to walk to the car.
As much time as it took you to get little coats on is at most half the time it takes for them to be removed and dropped at your feet once you've walked into your mother-in-laws. 
“No running!” You call after your girls that already aren't listening as they hurry to join their cousins to play. You sigh dramatically as you pluck little coats from the floor before trailing after your wife who has beelined for the kitchen. 
You quickly say hello before putting the girls’ coats in the room that's designated theirs when they stay over. You know better than to linger in a Schemmenti kitchen when you haven't been asked to. Especially with more than one generation of Schemmenti women sharing it already.
You say hello and mingle with those who have beat you to the house already. Business and anything close to it doesn't surface at all. It's only talk of family and what everyone's kids are up to or in some cases what trouble they're getting into for the older ones.
It isn't until after dinner that things really settle. The various rooms of the house with small groups chatting quietly. You're sat on one of the couches in the living room, catching up with Kristen Marie when Melissa reappears, claiming the seat next to you. Instantly your arm wraps around her shoulders and your lips press a kiss to her temple. 
“Next week it's your turn to do dishes after dinner.” She says to her sister as she leans against your side.
“It should be Mickey's.” Kristen Marie retorts. “I swear when he gets home I'm makin’ him do it every week.”
“Ya, good luck with Ma lettin’ him. You know she'll catch on a lot faster to him doin’ your chores than me doin’ ‘em. Just like when we were kids.”
“That was only ‘cause he was such a tattle tale, you know.”
“Hey, Y/N.”
You look away from the sisters to the figure calling for you. “Hey, Luca.” You greet easily as you look past your wife. “Did you just get here?” Your brow furrows as you realize you hadn't seen him earlier in the night. “You missed dinner.”
“I'm alright.” Luca assures, waving off your worry. “Can I steal ya for a minute?”
You nod, quickly kissing Melissa before you get up. “‘Course ya can.” You say as you follow him toward the kitchen. 
You think he's going to fix a plate of the plentiful leftovers while you talk. It isn't unusual for the extended family of Italians to pick your brain about things. Even just for opinion. Melissa tells you it's because you're Irish. You grew up outside of all of this even if you still grew up in the life in your own way. Either way, you've never minded listening or talking things through with any of them.
Instead of stopping in the kitchen though, Luca keeps walking through it and steps into the family room. You trail after him, your brow furrowing. He really wasn't going to eat? That just wasn't normal for anyone in a Schemmenti house. 
Once you step through to the family room, you realize you aren't alone. “Uncle Dom,” you greet the older man sat in one of the arm chairs just as easily as you had Luca. “How're you doin’?”
“Good, good, Y/N. I'm sorry to steal ya away from Mel. This'll just take a minute.” Uncle Dominic assures as he shakes your hand. 
Luca closes the door that connects the room to the kitchen. Leaving just the three of you in the quiet room. You suddenly don't believe it will only be a minute. Luca remains near the door, his hands crossing at his waist as he stands patiently. 
You sit in the other armchair at Uncle Dom's head nodding to it. You don't ask what's going on or what he wanted to speak to you for. You know not to press or hurry. The information is coming.
Uncle Dom sips from his wine glass before setting it back down. “I'll do this quick, like rippin’ a band aid, since you know I like ya, kid.” He says. His hand moves from the glass set down to fiddle with the head of the cane he's needed to start carrying the last two years or so as he's aged. “We're takin’ you off the salon.”
You blink. “I own the salon.” You answer lamely. 
“Ya do.” Dom agrees. “But with everythin’ goin’ on right now, it's been decided that it's best if you ain't so…hands on.”
You sit stock still in your chair as you stare back at the older man. You're at a loss for words. 
“You're to start actin’ like a…more silent partner from Monday on. Tony’ll take care of the day to day. You worry about your girls.”
You take a deep breath. “I own the salon.” you repeat, slowly leaning forward in your chair. Until your elbows rest against your knees. “And you're tellin’ me to act like Tony does?”
“For now. There's a lot of eyes, kid. It's better if you just stay home, worry about the twins.”
You bite your tongue, hard. You want to argue. You want to fight. Except you know better than to. It won't get you anywhere. This decision comes from higher than you and from more than one person, no doubt. 
You push yourself up from the armchair. You don't bother saying anything else to Dom. “Oh, fuck off, Luca.” You mutter when he moves to open the door for you. You throw it open yourself as you storm past him.
You take your spot next to your wife again, as she watches your little girls play with her cousins, and she can immediately feel the tension radiating off of you.
“Mi amore?” She looks to you sharply, your nails just digging into her hip slightly as you take up your position again.
“We need to go, or I’m going to flip my God damn shit,” you whisper into her ear. “I don’t think you want me doing that in front of everybody.”
Melissa gathers the girls, and the four of you attempt an Irish goodbye- running out and leaving without anyone noticing. Somehow, someway, the only person that you run into is Dominic. You glare daggers at him and all but dare him to stop you. He raises his hands in surrender, and the four of you are in your car no sooner.
You absolutely blast the Disney songs through the speaker as you begin to curse in Irish at a rapid fire speed.
“Y/N,” Melissa squeezes your thigh as you drive. “What has you up in arms?”
“I’m going to fuckin’ kill ‘em,” you seethe.
The redhead rolls her eyes. “You couldn’t if you tried.”
“I’m going to,” you hiss. Then you switch to Italian, having run out of cuss words in your own tongue. And finally, you let out a, “Mother fucker!” as you slam your palm on the steering wheel.
Your wife’s brows raise as you continue to curse under your breath. She knows she’ll have to talk to you once she gets the kids to bed- because tonight you are clearly off of parental duties with the attitude you have now. You’re one minor inconvenience away from taking one of her baseball bats to someone’s car, and with the trouble you’re in right now you can’t afford it.
As you pull in, she sets a gentle hand on your upper thigh. “Let me take care of the girls tonight while you simmer on the couch,” she tells you. “Pour yourself a glass of wine, and try not to explode from your rage.”
You kill the engine and storm into the house, not even bothering to help your wife get the girls into the house.
“Mommy?” Rosie asks as you stomp into the house.
“Yes, my little love?” your wife asks as she climbs out of the car.
“Why didn’t Mam get me out?”
“Mam is a little frustrated,” the redhead tells your daughters. “She just needs some time to cool off.”
“Mam is more than a little frustrated,” Cat notes softly. “Mam is really mad.”
“Just let Mam be for now,” your wife tells your girls. “It’s time for the two of you to head to bed anyway.”
“But Mam is home, and I want her to read a bedtime story,” Rosie whines.
“Mommy can read a bedtime story,” Melissa tries to placate as she ushers the girls into the house and up towards their room.
“But Mam reads better!” Cat groans. “You don’t do the funny voices as good!”
Out in the kitchen, you can hear your girls moaning and groaning, and you sigh heavily. If you can’t have control of your business right now... Dom is right- you should focus on your girls. You do end up reading them a story, tucking them in with a few extra kisses for the night, and then you’re out in the kitchen downing at least two glasses worth of scotch.
“Honey,” Melissa wraps her arms around your waist as you throw the last of the liquor down the hatch, loving the way that it burns. “Slow down. You haven’t even told me what’s happening.”
“Dom and Tony are takin’ the business out from underneath me.”
“What?” Melissa asks, sounding as incredulous as you felt when you were first told. “They can't do that! You own it.”
You laugh as you pour yourself another glass. “The fuck they can't. You know as well as I do they can do whatever the hell they want.”
Melissa's hands reach from your waist to your own hands, still trying to get you to slow down. “Amore.”
You put both the glass and bottle down on the kitchen counter a bit harder than necessary. “I have done everything they asked.” You grit through your teeth. “From day one. Even when Bobby was still there. They trusted me more than him at the end of it. And this is what they pay me back with, huh? The hell do they think this is gonna solve? You think the Feds ain't gonna notice I'm all of a sudden not there?”
Melissa sighs at your shoulder, her hands rubbing along your arms to try and calm you. “You know they have some sorta story to feed them if it's asked about already, honey.” She says softly. She isn't trying to give more fuel to your fire, but it is true. You know it is. Nothing is done without being thoroughly thought through.
“Fuck.” You curse once more as you close your eyes. You let your weight lean back into your wife. Her arms wrapping around your waist again. “Is this what we chose?” You ask, your voice much quieter than it has been in the last hour aside from reading to your girls and kissing them goodnight. “We get taught and spout all this shit about family. You're family. You do it for the family. Nothin’ comes over the family. This don't feel like fuckin’ family.”
Melissa doesn't answer you. There isn't a clear cut one. It's a complicated life for even the average person. Add in the mix of mafia and mob and all that comes with them both and complicated is an understatement. Instead she keeps you close to her. One hand letting go of you in order to cap a bottle of scotch to carry as she guides you with the other back to your couch. 
You curl in with her on the cushions. Trading the bottle back and forth. The silence of your home cuts only when your mind whirs back to life, and you're ranting your thoughts at her again. In turn, Melissa just pulls you closer to her each time, humming the confirmation of her listening. 
Eventually, you end up laying down with Mel on your couch, tangled up together beneath the throw blanket. You raise your head, blinking at your wife for a few moments. You're definitely drunk. Even still, you think she's the most beautiful woman you've seen. “You're family, y’know? The kind everybody in this damn neighborhood wants to keep talkin’ ‘bout. That you do anything for. Nothin’ else above it, all that. It's you and the girls. That's it. The rest of ‘em can get fucked.”
106 notes · View notes
glenechoslasher · 1 month
Text
"I'm Yours" ||
Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader
Rating: None
Length: 1.3k words
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Asked by @yyiikes IN LOVE WITH THIS SO MUCH ?? we need another part when he finally says it back
Part 2 of "Here With Me"
Oh, I can absolutely do that for you! I adore this man so much and he's been occupying my mind a lot, so I'm glad to have you guys enjoy my writing! I'd love to do more!
*
‘It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of my silence and their patience. I don't know what else I could possibly say to them that I already haven't written or thought here, it's… it's obvious, ain't it?’
*
Arthur stared up from his leather journal as he leaned further back against the tree in camp, the cover of the shade made it easy to stare at you across the camp as you did your usual chores, completely unaware of the set of eyes on you. The brim of his hat offered that extra layer of protection from being caught, but even if he were caught, would he even deny it?  No, he wouldn't, and he just chuckled at himself at how obvious it had been to probably everyone, excluding himself until recently.
Yes, he truly did have feelings for you, whether he cared to address them or not. He would have just chalked it up to loyalty to those in the gang, but you were a different case altogether. When he was faced with you being injured, it struck a nerve with him, and the urge to protect you outweighed anything that required any sense of logic, his instincts just took over, and that wasn’t just caring for a fellow gang member, there was something more in the depths of his gut. Arthur’s eyes flickered back down to the page and there you were, sketched carefully across the page like you were a carved statue. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d focused on such little details of you face, how he paid that much attention to those small things that made your face so…you.
He’d been thinking of you so often now, his mind full with so many ways to get you alone to have a talk, but no matter what he did, there was always someone wanting his attention, a day’s work was never finished. Today, it was a day of peace, or at least he’d hoped it would be, it was early and there were people who were barely awake. Arthur had let out a sigh and slipped the journal back into his satchel, then pushed himself from the ground and got to his feet. Instead of making his way straight to you, he went to pour himself a cup of coffee to calm his nerves, the warmth of it in his hand made him focus when he couldn’t. 
You’d been petting the horses after feeding them, and his eyes barely wavered from you for more than a moment, the intensity would have worried onlookers if it weren’t the people he’d known for years, but they knew how Arthur was. ‘He keeps his walls up’, ‘he’s not much of a talker’, all those things that were said about him weren’t necessarily a lie, but there was more to it than that. He did feel, he felt more than he let on because things of that nature were much more complicated. The one person in camp that he felt he could really talk to,besides yourself, was Charles, and even he had given him the best advice he could. 
“Talk to them,” he said bluntly. “Don’t be ashamed to tell them, they obviously put enough trust in you to confess. So, even if you don’t feel the same, it’s best to tell them exactly what you feel.”
Charles was always smart, incredibly intuitive, and Arthur was always the second guesser, but overall, his friend was right. He had been so wrapped up in thinking that he didn’t notice you going for your own cup of coffee right beside him. Arthur stood beside the fire and stared out at the water, the trees along the horizon brought him comfort in serene moments like this, but as if his body was reacting, he turned to see you staring up at him.
“You okay there?” You asked, a small smile on your lips as you brought the cup up, taking a small sip. 
Arthur cleared his throat and nodded as he brought his own cup to his lips, his eyes darted from you to the water again. “Been thinkin’ is all,” he said gruffly. 
You nodded in reply and hummed. “Yeah, I felt bad bothering you, but I wanted to be sure.” You had wanted to reach out to him to offer your support, or any comfort he might take solace in, but you decided against it. 
What you were greeted with though was Arthur beckoning you toward the large rock that sat by the shoreline. You would follow him, of course, and looked around curiously as he motioned for you to sit on the rock. As much as you wanted to question him, you kept your mouth shut and waited, patience was a virtue with this man. He then removed the journal from his bag and flipped more than halfway through until he stopped on a page, and then handed it to you with little to no hesitation while you balanced your coffee in one hand with the journal in the other. 
As you were about to ask, your eyes caught the drawing on the left, it was you, and it was sketched so beautifully that you were at a loss for words as you stared at it for a while. Arthur cleared his throat after a moment and chuckled as he tapped the other side of the journal, which was filled with words written in neat writing. You’d never seen his journal before, so all of this was a lot to process, the fact he trusted you with it in the first place showed how important you’d been.
Wordlessly, he stood there as you read the page. 
‘It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of my silence and their patience. I don't know what else I could possibly say to them that I already haven't written or thought here, it's… it's obvious, ain't it? Of course I love them, I have for a while now and it scared me. I’ve loved in my lifetime and yet, whenever I had, something bad always followed, like a curse upon my heart. But if there’s one thing I’d been told that really stuck with me, it was to take a gamble on love. It’s ridiculous to be afraid of something so natural and yet it’s been the hardest thing to admit. But I admit it, I love them. And I ain’t gonna regret it, not this time.’
When you finished, you stared up at the gunslinger with large eyes, you were struck with disbelief, dazed at the fact that this man was so articulate with how he felt and how he saw you… Your eyes went back to the pages and you stared for a long while, unable to truly say how you felt. 
Arthur shifted and took a large drink of coffee, then looked back at you. He then chuckled to himself and sighed. “Is this how you felt when you told me all that stuff and I said nothin’?” He asked you. “Because now I get it, that’s… agonizin’ to wait.” He offered a wide smile and continued to sip his coffee. 
“Arthur… I…” You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t say it, this man had your tongue. Quickly, you stood up with his closed journal, then threw your arms around his bulky frame, which almost caused him to drop his coffee, and most definitely spilled a majority of yours.
He laughed and looked down at you, your arms around him as you hid your face in his jacket. Arthur patted your shoulder gently at first, then he pulled you in with one arm and hugged you in return. This ain’t so bad, could get used to this. 
The sun was finally beginning to rise in the sky, the colors like a watercolor painting as the pinks and purples slowly faded with the hues of gold, and staring out at the sky while you were wrapped around Arthur was more of a dream than you could have ever imagined. His hand placed gently on your shoulder, allowing you to just remain with him, taking in the comfort of his scent. 
You could get used to days like this.
117 notes · View notes
thechekhov · 4 months
Text
Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH:23
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Senshi's need for culinary pursuit is stronger than any dragon.
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This has huge Aeor vibes and I'm very much here for it. Not a direct comparison, of course, but the idea of a long abandoned city full fo magic.... yes, good. Goooood.
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This man has his priorities in order. You can't find flour just ANYWHERE in the dungeon. No better time than now.
Also - aww, they got rid of the frog costumes... :(
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NOOOOO THE PUBBIES?!?!??!?!
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On the bright side, this thing is probably exhausted if it hasn't rested and recharged. A large animal like that needs to either consume a lot of food or sleep a hella long time.
On the not so bright side, who even knows why it's on a rampage? Nothing is predictable. Marcille is right to be worried.
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Chill.......chuck.
He really said 'this isn't in my contract and I ain't getting paid enough to die'.
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Yeah, 5 is much better than 3. And you've got no cleric, even though Marcille can cast healing spells for some reason.
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Super not comforting. But effective.
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this bridge is holding up better than marcille's mental state at the moment.........
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the alternative is literally to go 'well, sorry Falin' so........I guess that's the correct reply, yeah.
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Aww, he chilled :3 And next, to chuck. rocks. At the dragon.
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Can you imagine? Two dragons for the price of one!
You can be digested together with your beloved, Marcille.
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Senshi is NOT on board with risking his sushi fillet knives to stab a dragon, I see.
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No, he's right. You're gonna need those carbs. MY question is why that bread is so damn shiny. That's usually something you get by brushing egg onto the bread, and he specifically says they don't have eggs. Suspicious....
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Soy sauce. Incredibly useful to have on hand, when you're making Japanese based dungeon meals.
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Aww, he's got the Inspiring Speech/Leader feat! Come get your free temp hitpoints!
Also, Senshi smiling is just the cutest damn thing.
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Good timing.
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What an incredible design! It's so--
Where are its wings...? It...does have wings, right?
It's about to get SPICYYYY! >:)
190 notes · View notes
seokjinsonlyone · 1 year
Text
in which you want to kiss jungkook's cheek...
[10:28pm] yn: you look handsome :p
you tossed your phone away as soon as you sent the message. you were used to thinking these thoughts not verbalizing them. but you know you appreciate it when he tells you that you look good, so it’s only right to reciprocate. your phone buzzed back almost immediately which you weren’t expecting.
[10:29pm] jk 🤪💜: thank yooouuuu
[10:29pm] jk 🤪💜: wyd
[10:31pm] yn: in bed
[10:31pm] yn: on my phone
[10:31pm] yn: looking at this and that
[10:33pm] jk 🤪💜: you should come over
you were literally looking at videos of him at the calvin klein launch party which was what prompted your message in the first place.
[10:34pm] yn: ??????
[10:34pm] yn: aren't u at a party
[10:35pm] jk 🤪💜: i was
[10:35pm] yn: ??????
[10:35pm] jk 🤪💜: i left
you furrowed your brows going back to check the time stamp on the video you just watched, but lo and behold there was a new video posted from five minutes ago and it was of him leaving. your brain short circuited at the clip of him walking past the camera to get back into his car. his cheek looked ripe enough to pick. you wanted to kiss it so bad
[10:38pm] yn: dang that was quick how long were you there
[10:39pm] jk 🤪💜: like 30 minutes
[10:39pm] yn: 😭😭😭
[10:39pm] yn: ur literally a brand ambassador don't u get paid to go to those things
[10:40pm] jk 🤪💜: LOL i get paid to APPEAR so i appeared and then disappeared
[10:40pm] jk 🤪💜: i don't like going to those things by myself i would've stayed if i could bring u with me
you jutted your lip out, heart softening as butterflies began fluttering in your tummy. you have no idea what you would do at a function like that even if you could show up with him. it was as much your scene as it was his, but if he needed the support you'd 100% step up.
[10:42pm] jk 🤪💜: so are you coming over???
[10:43pm] yn: it's kinda late ain't it
[10:43pm] jk 🤪💜: you could stay the night????
you bit your lip. your relationship was all of a week old and he already wanted you to spend the night? you didn't know what to say. it wasn't like you didn't want to. like, it sounded really good in theory, it's just... weren't you skipping a couple steps?
[10:46pm] yn: that's kind of fast, isn't it?
you sat waiting for his response, noticing the text bubbles come and go several times.
[10:50pm] jk 🤪💜: i mean if you don't want to that's fine but i think we should just do whatever feels right for us without thinking about other people.
your heart picked up its pace at his statement brain fixating on the word 'us'. you and him. he was right. that was all that mattered in your relationship. if he wanted you to come and you wanted to go then why not?
[10:52pm] yn: oh. yeah okay. i'll come
[10:52pm] jk 🤪💜: i'm not trying to pressure you !
[10:52pm] jk 🤪💜: you really don't have to come if that's too soon for you it won't hurt my feelings
[10:53pm] yn: no i want to! just let me throw a bag together and i'll be on my way!!!
you hurried, grabbing whatever laundry was at the top of your pile and haphazardly stuffing it in your backpack while putting all of your toiletries into your tote bag. you contemplate changing into an outfit but then shake your head. it was eleven o clock at night and you already told him you were in bed, he should be expecting the worse.
thirty minutes later and you were standing outside of jungkook's door, biting the inside of your cheek, as you rocked from heel to toe waiting for him to open the door. and dear god you must've saved a group of orphans from a burning building in a past life because being able to see jeon jungkook in the flesh, hair half up half down, bangs spread across his forehead, bunny smile blossoming on his lips was certainly some kind of blessing.
he grabbed your bags from you and set them down near the couch before pulling you into a hug, one arm wrapped around your hips the other around your shoulder, your face completely smushed into his chest which was deliciously firm and required every ounce of self restraint not to sink your teeth into his pecs.
"missed you," he said, pulling back to get a good look at you. there was a small section in your brain that wanted to feel self conscious but you couldn't find it in you to care all that much when he was rubbing small circles into your back. he made you feel too good.
"you saw me two days ago," you deflected.
"still missed you tho. wanna see you everyday."
you shook your head, toying with the hem of his shirt. he was still all dressed up. "how long have you been home?"
"maybe 15-20 minutes."
"why you still in your party clothes then?"
"you told me i looked handsome, so i wanted you to see me in person."
you breathed out a laugh and looked up at him again, letting go of his shirt, hesitating briefly before reaching out and twirling his hair in your hands and tucking that one loose strand behind his ear. "you are handsome and very very pretty."
"pretty?" he asked giggling.
you nodded resolutely, absolutely taken by the way his nose scrunched up as he laughed, cheeks puffed out reminding you of how badly you wanted to kiss them. you weren't sure how to go about it tho. like, you could just go for it. that was your boyfriend. cheek kisses were definitely on the table, but you just hadn't gotten used to wanting. you were always the one that gave yourself up to those who wanted you simply because they would have you but you don't think you've ever wanted someone back. so this feeling of actually being invested in a relationship was new.
he knocked his nose against yours. "you're prettier."
and you knew he was messing with you. could tell he was waiting on you to make the first move by the way he lingered, his breath intermingling with yours. but you just couldn't push yourself to do it. it felt like an invisible force was holding you back.
he backed up from you. "okay. i'm gonna go change now. you can find something to watch if you want."
you nodded mildly disappointed. the hug was really nice. much appreciated, but it had been two days. you wanted a little more. you groaned internally. you were just gonna have to go for it. "wait!" you called out when he was halfway down the hall, moving to catch up with him. "is it okay if- can i- can i-" you fumbled over your words before deciding to abandon them altogether, raising up on your tip toes to finally press your lips to his cheek.
you could feel yourself flush all over, heat sneaking up on every possible surface of your skin. ugh, why was showing affection so embarrassing?
jungkook cackled at the way you couldn't even look him in the eyes. "you're so freaking cute."
and next thing you know you were being pushed onto the wall, jungkook pressed against you at every possible point of contact as he kissed you hot and heavy. his tongue licking into your mouth at a salacious pace, swallowing all the little sounds you couldn't help but make for him, hands squeezing where they gripped your hips. you were honestly dizzy at the turn around, barely able to keep pace with the ferocity with which he came at you with.
he could sense it too, slowing down the kiss until he was pressing small pecks against your lips. you were so glad you were backed into the wall because you don't think you'd be able to stand otherwise. you'd kissed a few times before, but never like that. he breathed out a laugh. "i wanted to do that so bad."
"then why didn't you?" you asked, smoothing your hands over his chest.
"because you kept staring at my lips and i wanted to see how long it was gonna take you to break."
there he goes giggling again like he isn't a little demon seed. you scowled at him. "i was staring at your cheek actually." you pressed another kiss to it. and one to the mole that was on his chin because you had a minor obsession with it. and a final one back on his lips just because you could and you were starting to miss the feeling of them against you.
"alright i'm actually gonna change now. we can do sheet masks together when i'm done." he stole one more kiss before pulling away and walking to his room.
"please come back fully clothed!" you called after him. you had no idea what other kind of stunts he had up his sleeve and your self restraint was severely drained. if you saw his abs right now, you don't know what you'd do.
"no promises!" he called back. you sighed. it was gonna be a long night.
a/n: if you saw me say i wanted to kiss jungkook's cheek no you didn't <333
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that1emowitch · 1 month
Note
One shot suggestion: Dick finding out about joyfire bc him finding out his little brother is dating his EX (and honestly probably his other ex too, let’s be real) IS SO FUNNY
OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!
(also can I just say I also love ur username <3)
This isn't short enough to be a drabble but not exactly too long either, it's 760 words, so make of that what you will. Here it is!
TW: Jason's usual level of swearing but milder
"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!"
Dick stood in Jason's doorway at the Manor, eyes wide. This was one of those rare times when Jason was staying here, just for a few days, mostly for Alfred's sake. His friends (or so Dick thought) Roy and Kori had joined him— for reasons unknown.
Dick was... feeling slightly awkward with them being around, Kori more so. He was quite civil, buddies, even, with Roy— after all, they'd only dated for a week or so. But Kori... their relationship had not ended well, at all. But Jason refused to unless his Outlaws did, so Dick let it slide.
He'd gone up to call them down for dinner, at Alfred's bidding, going to Jason's room first... to find Jason sitting on Kori's lap while she cradled him, and Roy french-kissing Jason.
"YOU'RE DATING MY EXES??!" The words tore out of him as he stood with his eyes wide, trying to process what he'd just seen.
Jason turned beet red, suddenly jumping away from the red heads. Kori sat cross-legged, smiling as if nothing had happened, while Roy wore a smug grin.
Dick turned to them, his voice high-pitched with disbelief. "AND YOU ARE DATING MY LITTLE WING?"
"I ain't little, Dickface," Jason scoffed from the corner, looking downright embarrassed.
"I don't see the problem," Kori stood from the bed, towering over all three men. "You and I, or you and Roy are not dating anymore. And we are all adults. And we have the love for each other. Why would we not date?"
A unbelieving sound escaped Dick. He turned to Roy, eyes flaming. "You. I know for a fact how vulgar you get in a relationship. Have you done it with my baby brother?"
From across the room he heard Jason's choked gasp, but he paid it no mind.
"Dude. Your 'baby brother' is 24." Roy shrugged, resting a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Why're you getting so worked up over it?"
"I'm not— no, no, I'm not worked up!" Dick scoffed. He faced Jason, pouting. "You. You stole my exes!"
Finally, Jason managed to get control over his expression and forced a smirk. "Yeah. Maybe they just know who's better."
"Yes, Jason is a much better of the partner than you, Dick," Kori pointed out not-so-helpfully.
Roy finally registered Dick's bloodthirsty expression and backed away, hands lifted. "Whoa, hey, man, chill. Seriously."
"I am chill," Dick snapped, glaring at him. He turned back to Jason, who was clearly trying to appear cool and intimidating, and pointed an accusing finger. "You have so much to explain. But right now Alfred wants you all down for dinner."
Then he left the trio without a word.
A bit after dinner, Dick finally found Jason alone in the library, reading some book titled 'Jane Eyre'.
"Jason." Dick walked towards him, expression a forced calm. "I am... sorry about how I reacted earlier."
Jason looked up from his book, an eyebrow raised. "No, you're not."
"No, I'm not," Dick agreed, sitting beside his brother. "How could you not tell me?"
"I didn't tell the rest of the Bat-cult either. You're not special." Jason leaned back, carefully placing a bookmark in the book before putting it aside.
Dick took this as a sign that Jason wanted to talk. "Jaybird... I'm your big brother, you know I love you, right?"
Jason looked away, muttering something that sounded like a mix of "Fuck off" and "Yeah, I know."
"It's just... If you'd told me, yeah, I might have freaked out at first. But I just want you to be happy, in the end. And if you're happy with my exes..." Dick sighed. "I guess I'll just have to live with it."
Jason turned back to his brother, glaring slightly. "Stop calling them your exes. That's my girlfriend and boyfriend you're talking about."
Dick winced. "Yeah. Sorry, sorry, I just... Do you just have a thing for redheads? You had that schoolboy crush on Babs when you were, like, 13. You were dating Artemis of Bana-Mighdall. And now you're dating Roy and Kori."
Jason scoffed. "You're one to talk. You've dated Babs, Kori, Roy, Wally West... Do I really have to go on?"
Dick chuckled, laying an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Guess it runs in the family, huh?"
"We're adopted, asshole," Jason grumbled, but leaned into Dick's touch.
After a long beat of silence, Jason spoke up again. "I also dated Rose Wilson for a while. She is not a redhead."
An amused laugh escaped Dick, and he ruffled Jason's hair lovingly. "Yeah, yeah."
116 notes · View notes
privateanxieties · 15 days
Text
these final hours
Summary: When your job becomes too overwhelming, Frank decides enough is enough. A brief conversation reveals that things run deeper than he thought.
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His verdict comes down one Sunday evening, breaking you from the melancholic stupor you're well into traversing.
"Alright, that's it."
There's a part of you that wants to protest immediately. It's always the first one to make itself known, because it's the one that feels the most fear. No, you cannot just quit your job, no matter the toll it's taking on you. No matter how many people tell you it's making you fade. No matter how little you stand to gain from keeping it up. Because if you do, then - then -
"Don't look at me like that. I said that's enough. You ain't going tomorrow."
There is, however, another part of you: the one that could cry out in sheer relief just by being presented with an out.
You don't even know what it is, exactly. Everyone has to work who was not born fortunate. People have much harder jobs than you do, and they get paid even less. So many struggle to make ends meet. You have neither the long, nor the short straw. The work is completely average, though perhaps below your capabilities. Definitely below your studies - God knows you're not justifying any of those student loans, save for maybe lots of jobs requiring some kind of degree these days. No, you can't quite grasp where all this melancholia with regard to your job originates.
When you really look at your situation, you have to abstain from getting carried away by overwhelming disappointment over how unjustified all this grief seems. Things could be a hell of a lot worse. People go through things at work that render them suicidal, and here you are, on a Sunday night, sad that you have to wake up for your commute.
"Sweetheart, you gotta talk to me. Alright? Can't handle seein' you like this. Nothin's worth it, you hear me? Ain't a goddamn thing in this world worth what this shit does to you."
Frank's hand on your knee makes you immediately tense up. It's instantaneous sensory overload from a simple touch and you can't explain it. It bothers you that you can't explain because it's another thing that's wrong with you. Another overreaction to an inoffensive event.
Before you can move away or even just barely take a breath, the warmth of his skin disappears. You hate the relief that washes over you. Who feels better when someone they love stops being affectionate? You, apparently. Always against the grain.
"You know I'm not making you do anything. Yeah? Need to hear that you know that."
A nod is what you manage, but eye contact has yet to happen. You theorize that if it were to happen, if you were to see him in this moment of wild vulnerability, you'd probably want to run from him and all else in the world.
"You don't have shit to prove to anyone. You included. Can't try to beat yourself into a mold if that mold's just gonna take away all the best parts of you."
Your chest rattles, and you try to keep your breath from becoming a pained gasp.
"You know, just 'cause I read doesn't mean I'm good with words. That's all you. But I'll say whatever I gotta say to get through. I ain't losin' the woman I love to a fucking job. And I sure as shit ain't letting her believe she's gotta do what the world says she's gotta do. Break herself as many times as she has to just to get approval. Can't do shit with approval, I'll tell you that."
Against all odds, words tumble out of you like a knocked over pot of crayons. Sharpness everywhere.
"I fail at - at everything. I haven't done one thing right my whole life. I quit everything I start. Everything - Frank, I can't st-"
An involuntary sob rips straight from your heart.
"I can't stand myself. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of my days not belonging to me. I'm tired of getting nowhere. I'm tired of not having any good reason to be like this. Every day I have to know, I have to wake up and go to sleep and never stop knowing that I am the way that I am. And I wish something would just happen so I don't have to keep-"
It stops. The flow of words you've never said out loud, even to yourself, stops dead. The silence floods the remaining space without delay but it, too, does so fruitlessly.
Frank has heard enough. Enough to know exactly what you've sworn you would protect him from.
"Will you look at me?"
The softest plea. You don't think you've ever witnessed it.
"Need to see it. Yeah? I need to see it in your eyes, what you just said. And then we'll figure it out. But I need to know, sweetheart. Because if I gotta protect you from your own mind, Imma be honest with you - I need different gear."
It's a weak attempt at humor, but not completely unsuccessful. Mostly you just know that Frank means every word. And you know, as your gaze meets his at last, that the part of you that always resists outside help has lost some strength. You're not too far gone to be able to admit that your thoughts have been getting bleaker. It's a newness that scares even you, who's been down this path before. Somewhere, it seems a turn arrived that even you weren't aware you'd taken.
But Frank is nothing if not relentless. There is no road he won't track you down on and no path inaccessible to someone of his determination. You can see it in his eyes, along with the subtlest glimmer. You're making him worry, and when Frank worries, he plans. Ten, maybe twenty steps ahead - which is why he locks away your phone with his guns for the night. It's safe to say you won't have an alarm for tomorrow, and the relief that fact brings isn't unaccompanied by guilt. Frank soothes it with promises and his unique brand of realism - you'll get through everything together, as long as you're honest. No more hiding, no more detours.
You're not sure how good you'll be at it, and when you voice the thought to him, Frank doubles down as he pulls the covers back from the bed and you both slip under them.
"You know what being good at therapy looks like?"
You hum your curiosity.
"Not needing relief anymore. Promise to let me know when we get there. Yeah?"
You press your fragile promise into the skin of his cheek, tucking your head below his chin and wrapping as much of your body around him as possible and, for the first time in weeks, drifting off instead of fighting to sleep.
.
.
.
-fin-
A/N: just a short piece that I hope brings you some comfort if you need it.
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