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#i spend all day trying to come up with any idea for an edit
burntoutdaydreamer · 5 months
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
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medellintangerine · 3 months
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Moving Day (dbf!joel x f!reader)
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Word Count: 3.5 k
warnings: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, dbf!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, reader has good relationship with dad, cursing, use of pet names (darlin' x 100), f masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, praise kink
A/N: I can't believe I haven't written a proper dbf!Joel fic, yet, but thanks to the gorgeous Pedro pic above, and my cheerleaders @speckledemerald, @merz-8 and @strang3lov3 I finally got there. I am forever grateful for your ideas and motivation/support. Not beta'd and barely edited so any glaring errors are mine, and please let me know. I'd say I'm sorry about the overuse of 'darlin'' but hey, I'm not. Image above not representative of reader, it's just the vibe I'm imagining. Beautiful dividers by @saradika
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Slipping off your sandals, you prop your now naked feet up on the dash of the old truck. The air is stifling and you question whether the air condition is actually functioning as beads of sweat run down your back. Trying to distract yourself, you lean forward to change over the radio station, having had your fill of Country music about ten miles back.
‘Nuh-uh, driver’s chooses the music’. Joel’s eyes don’t stray from the road as he turns up the volume.
‘Oh come on, I can’t take anymore’ you complain, pouting at your dad’s best friend, but he doesn’t so much as glance at you. Huffing, you try to cool yourself by holding your cup of iced coffee against your cheek.
‘This truck belongs on a scrap yard, too’ you mutter under your breath, which gets Joel’s attention. He glares at you briefly but then focuses back on the road. Feeling a little guilty, you flutter your eyelashes at him as you apologize. 
‘Sorry, Mr Miller. Not that I don’t appreciate you helping me out.’
Joel smiles at the windscreen, rather than you.
‘No problem, darlin’. Just glad I could help. And your dad’s just over the moon to have you back.’
You take a sip of your coffee as you wiggle the bag of donuts you had grabbed him, but Joel shakes his head. You take one and lick the icing off it as you look out the window, the familiar landscape of your home state filling you with a sense of nostalgia and comfort. 
After graduating college in Louisiana and struggling to find a job you could settle in, you had decided to move back home for a bit and try your luck there. You were looking forward to spending some time with your dad again, who had immediately gone about updating your childhood bedroom with Joel’s help to help you ‘settle back in as a graduate’. He had also insisted you did not use movers, but drove all the way over with Joel to move your stuff back. Right now, he was driving ahead in a van he had rented, whilst Joel and you were following him in Joel’s truck with some of your less bulky items. 
You had impressed yourself with your acting skills as you feigned annoyance at sharing the ride with Joel.
Being in such close proximity to Joel had immediately reignited the thoughts about your dad’s oldest friend that you had tried to suppress for years. You had never had a thing for older men, but Joel had been one hell of an exception. You had looked forward to every one of your dad’s annual barbecues, knowing that Joel would always spend the entire day at the house, helping your dad set up the garden furniture and stealing bites from the snacks you prepared. 
Right now, you were working so hard not to stare at his broad shoulders and his hands gripping the steering wheel that you were sure you were not only sweating due to the weather. And his curls, a few more strands of salt and pepper here and there, had you imagining running your fingers through it. 
‘You listening, sweetheart?’ 
Joel’s voice dragged you from your thoughts harshly. Almost spluttering on your drink, you turned your head towards him.
‘Sorry, what was that, Mr Miller?’
‘I said, change the station if you want. And told ya before… call me Joel, honey, please.’
‘Oh, ok, thanks M’... Joel.’
The smile he gives you makes something flutter deep inside you, so you turn your attention to finding some music instead.
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‘Right, that’s about half of them’ your dad groans as he follows Joel into your room, the two of them having insisted on carrying the boxes up themselves. ‘Time for a break’.
‘Thanks, Dad.’ you smile as you give him a quick peck on the cheek.
‘And, thanks for sacrificing your Saturday, Joel.’ Turning towards him, you awkwardly touch his arm, noticing how strong his biceps feels underneath his black T-Shirt. Joel silently smiles at you, but you’re sure you notice him taking a sharp breath in at your touch. 
Trying to cover up any awkwardness you quickly add:
‘Right, lemme get you two some beers and then I’ll get started with my dip. Can’t have our barbecue without my famous nachos.’
‘Oh yes, please. That sounds amazin’ right now, darlin’’ Joel says as he wipes the sweat from his forehead with his T-Shirt. You peek a quick look at his abs and feel that some higher power is truly testing you as you feel a pang of yearning tug deep inside your chest at the sight.
The two men are happily chatting on the porch, already about to finish their beers. Watching them from the kitchen window where you are prepping your food, you grab another couple of beers, plus one for yourself, from the fridge. Your dad had been adamant the barbecue should be moved forward a few weeks to merge into a homecoming party for you. Despite the fears you had had at the prospect of returning home unemployed, you already feel like you’ve made the right choice as you fall into comfortable, familiar patterns of weekends spent at home. 
‘Don’t think I’ll be waiting on you two all the time now that I’m back’ you quip as you hand two more bottles to the men, causing them to chuckle. As you lean over the table to collect the empty bottles, you almost drop them trying not to come too close to Joel. 
‘Woah, you’re alright, darlin’?’
Joel uses a hand on the back of your thigh to steady you, and you can feel the rough skin of his fingers. He lingers for just a second and you are not sure how to read the expression on his face as his eyes seem to bore deep into you.
Placing the bottles down on the porch quickly, you fumble to grab your phone out of the pockets of your shorts. 
‘Here, let’s have a picture of you two. To commemorate my homecoming.’ You take a few steps back and angle the lens of the camera at the two men. Your dad waves you off in embarrassment, and Joel just busies himself with opening the beer bottles.
‘Ah come on, honey. Nobody wants to see us old farts’ your dad says as Joel grumbles in assent. 
‘I do. Now come on’ you argue, ‘I’ll take some candids, you don’t even have to pose’.
Snapping a few pictures of the two of them, you try to be inconspicuous as you take some of each of them separately. Eventually, they get over themselves and you pop your phone back in your pocket and gather up the empty bottles as you head back into the kitchen. 
Grabbing your own beer from the counter, you quickly scroll through your photos, chuckling at your dad with his standard thumbs up as he smiles at the camera. 
You choke on your drink as you swipe to the next photo. 
Joel is wearing his sunglasses and looks straight at you, a small smirk playing on his face.The sun is casting a small shadow on him, but his features are crystal clear. You exhale shakily as you look over your shoulder out of the window, fearing the two of them will see you pining over the picture. You decide to try out a few filters, and can feel your skin tingling the second the photo is cast in black and white. 
‘Jus’ gonna run out for some lunch, hon. Anythin’ you want?’ 
Your dad’s voice sounds like a foghorn as he comes into view. 
‘F’... shit, sorry, Dad. I was miles away. Um, uh… could you get me a green smoothie, please?’
‘Jeez, that the kind of stuff you got into at college? Alright, see ya in a bit. Joel’s just taking a dip in the pool. See you in a bit.’ Your dad grabs his keys off the counter and heads out of the door, leaving you to try and calm down. 
You realize how futile this is as you turn to peek out of the window again, seeing Joel’s T-shirt abandoned on his chair. 
You move to look further out into the garden and gasp when you see Joel, half submerged in the pool, the water playing around his hips. He’s splashing himself with water to cool himself down, and even from this distance you can see the sun reflecting in the droplets of water on his freckled skin. The tiredness from the drive up has disappeared in an instance, and try as you might you cannot draw yourself away from ogling him. As Joel dives into the water, an audible whimper escapes you. 
You jog up the stairs into your room and rip open the box you had made sure to tape up before your dad and Joel arrived. You find your small bullet vibrator and thank yourself for having charged it up. 
Your bed is covered in boxes and shopping bags full of clothes, which you rapidly shove off the mattress as you throw yourself down and move your hand down your shorts. The need is unbearable, and you cannot get the image of Joel in the pool out of your head. Switching on the small toy, you quickly move it to your clit to find some relief. Pushing your tank top up to your neck, you start to play with your nipples, which have been hard from the moment you spotted the perfect shot you took of Joel. 
Before long, you feel a familiar tension at your core and you move to insert the vibrator inside of you, no need for lubrication at all as your orgasm builds quickly. Glancing to the side, you realise you’ve left the door ajar but feel unable to stop now, knowing that Joel Miller is currently half naked only a few minutes away from you. Some quiet moans can’t help but escape your lips and before you know it you are coming all over your hands. Placing your vibrator onto the bed next to you, you quickly button up your shorts as you throw an arm over your eyes, trying to calm your ecstatic breathing as the aftershocks of your orgasm still curse through you.  
‘Oh fuck, J’..Joel, yes.’ you pant just as you hear one of the floorboards creak.
You whip your head to the side and see Joel, shirtless and holding another one of your boxes in just one hand. 
‘Sorry, I…jus’ thought I’d try and get the rest of the boxes up’ Joel says quickly, his expression slightly embarrassed. But you can feel his eyes running over your body as you lie outstretched on your bed. You suddenly realize your top is still pulled up to just underneath your breast, your stomach exposed to him. Heat rushes to your face as you quickly pull it down and roll off the bed. 
‘Oh, thanks Joel. I…I, was just..taking a break.’ you stutter as you try to take the box from him, but Joel is holding on to it tightly. 
‘Did…erm, did you call me, at all, darlin’?’ Joel’s voice is merely a low rumble as his fingertips graze against yours. ‘Sure I heard my name.’
He is smirking at you as you are stunned into silence. 
‘I, erm, no, I didn’t.’ You gently wrestle the box away from him and turn to place it on the floor. You can feel Joel’s presence as he seems to hover behind you. When you turn around he is so close to you, you can smell the chlorine on his skin. 
‘Ah right, because… I was going to say… if you ever need me for anything, you… you just call me, yeah darlin’?’ Joel replies, looking at your face like he is trying to work out a riddle in his head. 
‘Thank you’ your voice is merely more than a whisper at this point, causing Joel to send a half-smile towards you. He closes the distance between the two of you even further, and you have to back up against the wall to try and steady yourself. You’d only come once, and can already feel your arousal picking up inside of you again as you take in Joel’s figure in front of you. You can practically feel Joel’s hand before he actually runs it along your thigh again.
‘Great. Because it sure is great havin’ you back…I… missed havin’ you around here.’ 
Your breath hitches as Joel moves his large hand underneath your shorts to caress your skin. He places his other hand on the wall behind you as he leans down towards your ear:
‘Did you just make yourself come saying my name, baby?’
You whimper at the new pet name as you feel Joel’s breath on your neck, goosebumps shooting all over your body immediately. 
‘Fuck, I… yes, Joel. Sorry.’ Your eyes flutter shut as you daren’t make eye contact with your dad’s best friend of over 20 years. 
‘Now… ‘ Joel purrs as he closes the distance between you and presses himself against you, ‘why would you apologize for that? What man wouldn’t be flattered by a pretty thing like you touching themselves and moaning his name?’ Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel lets his lips ghost against your cheek. 
‘Think you’ve got another one in you, eh?’ 
You bite your lip at his suggestion and slowly nod your head. 
‘Nah, gotta hear you say it’ Joel growls as he grabs your ass firmly and strokes his thumb along your cheekbone. 
‘Yes, Joel, yes. Please’
Immediately, Joel spins you around, pushing you against the wall. 
‘Gotta be quick, though. Your dad’s gonna be back in a minute’. 
‘Oh god… yes. Please Joel.’ you beg him unashamedly. 
‘Hmm, sound so pretty when you ask so nicely, baby.’ Joel responds as his hand finds its way down the front of your shorts. His broad shoulders press against you as you try to find purchase on the wall in front of you. Joel’s hand strokes your pussy and one thick finger enters you easily, your slick from your previous orgasm helping along nicely. Joel begins kissing your neck and shoulders as he continues to press into you, causing you to arch your back and rub your ass against him, allowing you to feel how hard he is. You gasp when his thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing circles slowly but firmly. You feel yourself coming already and grind into his touch. 
‘It’s okay, take your time, baby’ Joel whispers in your ear as you feel his teeth graze your earlobe. But you know that time is the one thing you don’t have right now, and you need to feel him now, fully:
‘No, Joel…need to… please. I need you to fuck me.. Now.’ 
Joel’s movements stop momentarily as he takes in your words. 
‘Fuck, you sure baby? We can still stop and pretend this never happened.’ His fingers are still inside of you, but you can tell he’s hesitating, so you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. 
‘I’m sure, Joel. Wanted this for… for a long time. Please.’
Joel’s pupils are fully blown with lust at your request, and a slow smile is spreading across his features. Grinding up against you, his fingers don’t leave your pussy as he pulls your shorts down and allows you to step out of them. You are already moaning again just as his touch, but can feel your heart rate increase as you hear the clink of his belt. Joel unzips his jeans behind you and you can’t help to steal another look - his cock is fully hard now, and you gasp at the his size and how pretty it looks in his hand. Joel grins as he wraps his left arm around your front. You bend over and place one hand on the wall in front of you, touching yourself with the other. 
‘Oh, yeah baby. Look so pretty playin’ with yourself. You ready f’ me?’
‘Yes Joel!’ you call out a little too loudly, but you are desperate to be filled by him by now. 
With a growl, Joel lines himself up between your folds, running his cock through your slick to prepare himself for you. After a few seconds, he begins to enter you and for a second you worry it’s going to be too much, but when you start to feel Joel inside of you, you immediately begin to move against him. 
‘Oh my god, Joel, yeah’ you whimper as he bottoms out inside you.
‘That’s it, sound so good sayin’ my name he groans in response as he sets a steady but hard pace, filling you up in a way that none of the college boys you had gotten to know over the last few years ever had. Joel’s arm around your front is holding you tight against him and you can feel every roll of his hips deep inside of you. Your hand that had been playing with your clit reaches behind you to grab Joel by the back of his neck and pull him even closer to you, the scratch of his beard stubble rubbing against your face delicately as he grunts praises into your ear. 
‘That’s it, knew you needed this, baby. Been lookin’ at me all day haven’t you?’ 
You gasp as the filthy words fall from the lips of the man you had seen every weekend growing up, and whose name you had called out as you came long before today.
‘Yes, Joel. Been thinking about this for so long. Feel so good inside me.’
Joel practically roars into your neck and the way his breath feels on your skin makes a second orgasm build so quickly you can hardly catch your breath.
‘I’m gonna…shit, I’m gonna come Joel’ you gasp. 
‘Yes, baby girl, doing so well for me. Come on, just let go and come all over this cock for me.’
His words make the coil inside of you snap and your vision gives out on you as wave after wave of pleasure washes throughout your body. Joel doesn’t let you go but instead holds onto you tighter, prolonging your pleasure as you are at a risk of losing your grip on the wall. Panting loudly, you squeeze Joel inside of you and feel his rhythm starting to become more irregular. 
‘Come inside me Joel. please’ you say as you throw him another look over your shoulder, the expression on your face completely cock drunk, but you cannot miss this opportunity to see him come inside you. 
Joel’s mouth opens at your words and he looks at you in utter bewilderment as he squeezes his eyes shut. You feel his cock twitch inside you and your walls flutter as you take him in like this above you, strong and broad as he chases his high. He grabs another handful of your ass as his seed spills inside of you. 
You stay pressed up against the wall for what feels like an eternity as you and Joel both try to calm your breathing. When he begins to soften, Joel pulls his cock out of you and turns you around, pressing your back against the wall as he brushes your hair out of your face. He looks deep into your eyes with a look you have never seen on his face, and already are desperate to see again. He nuzzles your cheek with his nose when he finally speaks:
‘Think, I… better have another dip to cool down.’
You can’t stop the giggle escaping your lips. 
‘Yeah, I’m…gonna have a shower, I think.’ you reply as you start to get dressed.
‘See you outside darlin’’ Joel says as he pulls his jeans up, too. You realize time really is of the essence now, as you cringe at the thought of your dad catching Joel coming down the stairs topless. 
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You’re sitting out on the porch in your old favorite deck chair, the afternoon sun warming your skin as you sip on your green smoothie. Your dad had picked up right where he left off teasing you for your ‘hippy sluice’, but had received little support from Joel, who had merely told him to leave you be and sent a quick wink your way. 
The two men have been in and out of the kitchen, carrying out food for the barbecue ahead of the neighbours arriving in about 20 minutes. Suddenly, there is a shadow blocking the sun behind you, and you look up above you into Joel’s eyes who are smiling down at you. He’s holding a bag of tortilla chips and the bowl you had prepared your dip in. Taking a chip from the bag, he dips it into the sauce and offers one up to you. 
‘Fancy a taste?’ he says as he hold the chip out in front of you ‘think you’ve outdone yourself this time, darlin’’, he says, his voice smooth like honey as you take a bite. Joel briefly checks the surroundings for your dad, who is busy trying to get the grill started before running his thumb along your bottom lip. You smile up at him as he pops another chip into his mouth with a cheeky grin on his face.
Being back home might just turn out more exciting than you had anticipated. 
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nightprompts · 9 months
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&. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.
( dialogue prompts taken from the second season of hulu's the bear, created by christopher storer. feel free to edit and change as you seem fit. )
❛ you ever think about purpose? ❜
❛ i love you, but i do not have time for this, alright? ❜
❛ i have time for this. ❜
❛ you know what the fuck you're doing. you love this shit. it's fun for you. i don't have that. ❜
❛ i'm afraid one day, i'm gonna wake up and you guys are all just gonna just drop this ass. ❜
❛ if this shit is not fun for you, what the fuck is fun for you? ❜
❛ i'm not making the same mistakes i made last time. ❜
❛ what kind of insurance coverage do we have for people falling through the fucking wall? ❜
❛ sometimes, i look like february. ❜
❛ you want a sprite? you look kinda green. ❜
❛ can i ask you something and you can tell me to fuck off if you want? ❜
❛ chef, that's way too much acid. ❜
❛ you, uh, making a sundae? ❜
❛ that actually sounds delicious. ❜
❛ because you're the bear and i remember you. ❜
❛ i love taking care of you. and i always will. you know that? ❜
❛ i'm glad i came 'cause i get to eat this. ❜
❛ i gotta come up with three really great desserts. you got any ideas? ❜
❛ you ever made ice cream before, chef? want to? ❜
❛ it kind of tastes like a, um... minty snickers bar. ❜
❛ so how long you been a cook? ❜
❛ how’d you get good at this? ❜
❛ you can spend all the time in the world in here, but if you don't spend enough time out there... you know? ❜
❛ speaking of dead brothers, do you wanna go to a party? ❜
❛ it looks so pretty on you. you should keep it. ❜
❛ what's going on with you? i know there's something. just tell me. ❜
❛ what are you talking about, i don't give a fuck? why would you say that to me? i give like a huge fuck. ❜
❛ you're not by yourself, alright? i'm right here with you. ❜
❛ did you just throw a fork at me? ❜
❛ i think time spent doing this is time well spent. ❜
❛ never too late to start over. ❜
❛ i just want you to know... that this is really nice. ❜
❛ i'm thinking you're very, very beautiful. ❜
❛ we just don't say hello anymore? ❜
❛ you're wearing a suit? ❜
❛ uh, yeah, i wear suits now. ❜
❛ i'm sorry if i took anything out on you and if I treated you like shit. ❜
❛ i actually do think that we could fit good together. ❜
❛ i could be good at things that you don't really wanna do. and you're obviously really great at a whole bunch of stuff that I don't know how to do, you know? ❜
❛ i'm wearing a suit 'cause it makes me feel better about myself. ❜
❛ i know that you're trying. i see that you're trying. ❜
❛ you just came from a funeral? ❜
❛ yeah, a funeral of all my enemies. ❜
❛ you want me to make you some coffee? ❜
❛ i just need your focus like you need mine. ❜
❛ you good? ❜
❛ what's your relationship with your mom like? ❜
❛ alright, chef, i need you to salt that like a sidewalk. ❜
❛ looks gorgeous, chef. ❜
❛ i haven't eaten yet. ❜
❛ oh, let me make you something. ❜
❛ yeah, i can make you an omelet. ❜
❛ that wasn't like an ask out or anything, was it? ❜
❛  i'm looking really good. i 'm thinking you should start calling me chef. ❜
❛ well, i'mma keep calling you jagoff, 'cause that's what you like. ❜
❛ you deserve my full focus. ❜
❛ i guess i'm scared that i don't have what it takes to not fuck this up. ❜
❛ you're not gonna fuck it up. ❜
❛ i fuck things up all the time, like, every day. ❜
❛ you could do this without me. ❜
❛ i couldn't do it without you. i wouldn't even wanna to do it without you. ❜
❛ you make me better at this. ❜
❛ you still love to cook, right? ❜
❛ how's the wine? ❜
❛ yo. we're low on forks, chef. ❜
❛ okay, let's start firing some caviar, please. ❜
❛ i was just gonna say how special and cool and great this place is and how i'm the most proud of you ever. ❜
❛ i really appreciate you being so patient with me. ❜
❛ do i have time to go outside and scream "fuck"? ❜
❛ just don't tell them you saw me, 'cause this is embarrassing. ❜
❛ i love them so much. i don't know how to show it. ❜
❛ i don't know how to say i'm sorry. ❜
❛ i need you to say it's okay. ❜
❛ you are being so fucking weird, man. ❜
❛ i'm stuck in a goddamn refrigerator on the opening night of my fucking restaurant. ❜
❛ i failed you guys and it's not gonna happen again. ❜
❛ maybe i'm just not built for this. ❜
❛ because no amount of good is worth how terrible this feels. ❜
❛ i'm really sorry you feel that way. ❜
❛ would you shut the fuck up and get me the fuck outta here, please? ❜
❛ i don't understand why you can't just let something good happen for once in your fucking life? ❜
❛ you wanna talk to me about my fucking kid? at least i got a kid. ❜
❛ where were you when i fucking put your brother in the ground, you selfish piece of shit? ❜
❛ i fucking love you! ❜
❛ you fucking need me. ❜
❛ i just had this sudden urge to tell you that i've always had this, like, massive crush on you. ❜
❛ i love you, chef. ❜
1K notes · View notes
fl3shm4id3n · 5 months
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢�� 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: (ᴘᴀꜱᴛ) ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
Tw: Star-crossed lovers concept, Cazador, vampirism, medieval sexism, abuse of any kind, manipulation , blood, torture, torment, violence, suicide attempt/mentioned, mentions of intimacy, death, murder, stake to the heart, angst, reincarnation. Not edited, pictures ain't mine, I got them off Pinterest.
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Your whole life changed when your parents had sent you off to marry some Lord known as Cazador. He had been in search for a concubine. It was pretty normal for noble men to have a concubine. He could have as many as he could afford. Your parents were thrilled by the idea of you, their only daughter being with a powerful Lord. As much as you didn't to, you had to. It was your duty as their child to follow their orders. Whatever they say, goes. It was settled then, you were going to become Lord Cazador's concubine for as long as he lives. That day that you left your home, was the same day you never saw your parents again. His castle was strange, his servants were strange. They were like puppets that only followed their master's word.
The first couple months weren't so bad. Cazador was respectful, and he had given you time to adjust to your new life. He had began to spoil you, giving you things that you'd never thought you've ever see in your eyes. From the finest tailored dresses, to jewelry, makeup, books, and so on. You were basically given the life that many girls would dream off. Despite all that, it still felt strange, as if something was wrong, but you didn't put to much mind into it. You passed it as if you were home sick. As much as you tried to ignore it, the worry got bigger, as if it was a weight on your shoulders getting much heavier and heavier throughout the weeks. One night Cazador had decided to make you his. You felt nervous since you've never been with a man in your life. But that night, would be the one you'd remember for the rest of your immortal life.
Its already been years, those years became centuries. You were still Cazador's concubine. Everyday you'd wake up and just have the though of what Cazador would have planned that night. It was a routine that just kept on going. You'd wake up, and have the maid spawns come dress you. You no longer had a choice on what you could wear. It was all Cazador, he'd pick everything about your look for the night, from dresses, shoes, makeup art, hair style, jewelry and hair. Everything was either a blood red or black. His favorite colors. If you refused to wear what he'd pick out for you, then you'd wear nothing. You'd remain bare until you've learn to appreciate what he does for you. That was a way to manipulate you, he made you think that he did so much for you and the least you could do is learn to be more appreciative of what he has given you.
Its been a while since you've seen your reflection. You've almost forgot how you'd look like. Sometimes you'd spend hours and hours looking in the mirror, trying to form on how you'd look like before, but nothing. You'd just see the furniture in your room along with other things in the room. As some kind of gift, Cazador had commissioned a painting of you, he's often tell how generous he was and how he didn't have to do this. You were dressed like the night that you had been turned into a vampire spawn. Sitting still as the artist painted your every detail. You'd look at that picture as if it was the only thing keeping you alive. That painting made you remember on how your face might have looked like. But there was one thing that you didn't like, and that was the scar on your left side of your neck. It was a scar, caused by Cazador's bite of that night. It may have been a small detail, but it was noticeable. It was also some kind of reminder of what he had done to you. Everything you'd see that small bit of the painting, you'd feel a sharp pain on your neck, right on your now scarred side. Sometimes you wish you could cover it, but due to the dresses you wore, you weren't able to.
Whenever you'd disagree with Cazador on something, he'd threated to burn the picture and to never get you a new one. You'd often cry and beg on your knees for him not to do it, also to forgive you for speaking out of term. He seemed to love making you cry, he'd watch how the makeup would roll down your cheeks, messing it up and how you were on your knees with your head on the floor, begging or how'd you'd hug his knees and cry in desperation. It was some kind of sickening pleasure of his. He also love to torment you to the point that you have a breakdown. It would happen constantly, you'd never catch a break.
Not only that, but you were force to learn how to play instruments. As a way to entertain yourself and Cazador. When it came to string instruments, he'd have you play for hours and hours until your hands sore. If you'd mess up a note, you were force to restart and play the instrument until the tips of your fingers bled, even your nails would break and dig into your already cut and bleeding skin. When you were done, your hands would be shaking and raw, with blood running down your hands and fingers. You also liked to embroid, or at least he liked how you'd embroid. If he didn't like the work, he'd have you start all over again, or he'd make you sew until you hands were weak. He just loved seen you in pain. He loved watching you tear up as you sewed and played instruments, in pain. As a way to 'heal' you, Cazador would lick and bite at your bleeding fingers, to add to the pain.
Some nights you wished you could just walked into the sun, but that was impossible. Most of the night you'd be in your room. For hours, only coming out when Cazador would want you to, he'd basically keep you locked in. You barely spook to the spawns at times. Sometimes you'd write down notes and slide them under the door for the spawns to see. This was a form of punishment, even though you didn't do anything to get punished. Not just that but the only way for you to have blood was by begging for him to allow you to feed, he'd leave you starving for days until you were fed up and needed a doze of blood. But he'd have you drink the blood from his mouth, as much as you didn't want to, you did. You had the choice to just stop feeding and either go insane and violent. But you knew he wasn't going to allow you to do that. If you attempted to, it'd become worse.
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One night things were different, Cazador had been gone for a while. You assumed he was probably looking for another mortal to fall for his trap and make him another spawn. That night you were in your room again, looking at the empty mirror as if you were trying to find yourself again, but you knew that was useless. Then Cazador bursted in the room. Causing you to flinch an grip onto your clasped hands much harder, digging your nails into your skin, fearing that he might due something to you, again. Then he introduced you to his new spawn. A man. He was in his late thirties, with brown hair, pale complexation, green eyes and his clothes were dirty, as if he was covered in dirt. You noticed that his right side of his neck had wound, a bite. That was already scaring. The other spawns didn't have those markings. Except for you and now him. You learned that his name was Astarion.
Once you were introduced, he made his new spawn get on his knees and kiss the toe of your shoe. This was something he'd have his spawns do, just to see them on their knees, humiliating themselves, by kissing the toes of your shoes. You'd often say that you were his one and only high raking 'Spawn Concubine'. As much as you didn't want him to go through that humiliation, he did so anyways. He already seemed scared of Cazador and what he'd do if he didn't do what he wanted. As he began to get up from his knees, you and him locked eyes. You could see the fear in each other's eyes, as if it was reflecting. You were both scared of him. And he knew it. Not only that, but he loved to see the fear that you both had.
That same night in your room, you could hear the screaming happening in the cellar and the smell of blood. You could hear how Cazador was already 'branding' his knew spawn, just like the others. You didn't get branded like they did, he'd explained to you that you're above the spawns and there for you shouldn't be branded, besides. He had already branded you. It was a reminder on your neck. For the attire night you could hear the screams echoing through the castle, as much as you wanted to not hear it, you weren't able to muffle out the noises. You felt horrible not being able to stop Cazador's torture. Last time you attempted to, was bad.
Then Cazador had come up with a great idea, his new pet, would now be in charge of going out and bringing back a prey for him and you feed on. He believed that Astarion had the perfect face to lure in any person he got his eyes on. Astarion tried to refuse and disobey, as a punishment, he locked him up in a cellar for over a whole year. With no light what so ever. You had tried and asking Cazador to please let him out, but he refused to listen. You were his concubine, not his wife. He never made you his wife, because he knew that if he did, he'd have to treat you as his equal. So he never married you, he only kept you as his concubine, as his possession for his pleasures. Finally, Astarion had been out of the cell, except his appearance changed. His once brown hair was now white and his once green eyes were now a blood red. That whole year in the cellar had changed him. Since then on, he began to obey his master.
So he began to bring back a prey, either a man or a woman. Cazador would be pleased with this, and would 'reward' him by giving him a rat to feed of. If Astarion refused to eat the rat, then he'd be killed by the other brainless spawns. You and Cazador would feed from the victim, together. He'd go for the neck and you'd go for the wrists, you were never allowed to go for the neck, if you did. Then you'd be punished severely. He'd just add that you should be greatful that you're allowed to feed. Some victims he'd keep as his spawns and others he'd kill just for his fun. This went on for a couple of years.
During those years, you had actually grown close to Astarion. You knew he only did what he did for survival, like you. You normally wouldn't ask Cazador for anything, but you had asked him if Astarion could he your personal servant, when he isn't out getting a prey. He found it odd, but allowed it. He saw no harm in that. So you had Astarion be with you for most of the evening and nights he wasn't out. He was shy at first, he thought that you too were like Cazador, due to his master's concubine and because you had a much higher rank. Except you were different. You too were a victim, except you weren't treated as a spawn, but a possession.
Him and you did a lot of things that you'd normally do on a daily. When you'd practice playing an instrument, Astarion would watch and listen to you. He too began to learn to play when you had offered to teach him. Same with reading, you'd read him books that Cazador had given you throughout the centuries. This was something new to Astarion, ever since he was brought by Cazador, he'd be constantly tormented by him. Until you had stepped in and asked for him to be with you at all times. When he wasn't out. Not only that, but you were kind to him, at first he thought you were the same as his master, but no. You were way different than the man you both feared.
Astarion loved to spend his time with you, it gave him some reason to not give up. Your kindness was keeping him alive in a way. At times when you weren't together, he'd be staring at the painting of you, hanged in the middle of the stairs of the castle. The way that you were painted was angelic like, you looked like a Queen. But he also noticed the same scar on your neck. Of course he knew that it was Cazador's doing. Besides that, you were just so beautiful. He almost couldn't believe that you were kind to him. Every time he'd be back from getting a prey, he always looked forward into being with you for a couple of days.
You were surprised Cazador had allowed this in the first place. Because you were often kept isolated front he other spawns and weren't really allowed to form any kind of friendship with them. That's the biggest reason why you'd be locked up in your room and barely able to speak with them. But Astarion seemed to be the only one you were allowed to speak to, for a while before he becomes a brainless spawns like the others. You hoped that it didn't lead to that. You really liked your new friend, it was as if you and him had formed a bond. A friendly one at that, but you felt more towards the now white haired male. It felt wrong in a way, but at the same time.
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That evening was a nice one, you were doing your needle work with Astarion. Working on a black shirt that belonged to Cazador. You were sewing with a gold colored threat. Making flowers. That night Astarion didn't have to go to get prey. It was a nice and quiet, and no Cazador lurking by, since he had to take care of some 'business'. You were used to him disappearing out of nowhere with the excuse of being busy. You were to focused on the peacock you were working on while Astarion tried to follow your lead. You began to teach him how to embroider since he had asked and he was curious on your handy work. He had seen your work, specially on his Master's clothing.
Astarion was focused on the cloth in the hoop, trying to match the flower that you were making. Then he pinched his finger with the needle. Hissing in pain and dropping the hoop. You stopped what you were doing, looking over to him. You placed the shirt down and moved over towards Astarion. "Let me see." You said, then you took his bleeding finger into your hands too look at it. "I'm fine my lady." He said, respectfully. Watching you care for his pricked finger. You then leaned down and gave his injured finger a kiss. He felt his face heat up, by this gesture. You've done this so many times, and yet it feels like the first time. You didn't seem to mind getting blood on your perfectly red painted lips. You looked over at him and smiled. "Better?" you asked him, seen the flush look on his face, he nodded almost shyly like the first time you met.
You both locked eyes. Remaining frozen as you both looked at one another. You didn't even realize how you and him began to lean into one another. Slowly closing your eyes, then you both kissed. Your cold lips molding into one another's, softly. You've never been kissed this nice and sweet before. Cazador was rough and impressment. But Astarion? He was slow and passionate. You placed your hands on his shoulders, as a way to hold onto each other. He then snaked his hand at the back of your head, carefully holding your head up. Not wanting to mess up your perfectly combed hair with many hair pens and other flowers adorned to it.
The kiss was short, you pulled away and looked at him. He did the same. You didn't have to exchange words, it was clear that you and him loved that kiss. And you wanted to kiss him again. So you did, you kissed him again, a bit more eager this time. He followed your lead. You both completely forgot about what you were doing before. Now you were focused on this. You laid your body on the soft cushion of the couch. Pulling Astation on top of you. He didn't hesitate to get on top of you. He placed himself between your legs. As he continued to kiss you, more deeply. Then you ran your hand up his white shirt, feeling his cold skin against your cold fingers. Slightly touching his scarred back. Asatrion was too caught up in the moment to care, he took began to slide his hand up your skirt. Feeling your soft and delicate skin. He then pulled away and look at you.
You had a look of concern. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" you asked nervously. "No, it's just. I don't want to take advantage of you. I wouldn't want to do something that might hurt you." He explained, you knew what he said was true. You placed your hands on both sides of his cheeks. "It's okay, I want this to happen. But if you don't, then I understand." You responded, with a small smile, as a way to comfort him. "I do too, but before we go any further. Please tell me that I have your consent. I wouldn't want you to be hurt... like he has hurt you..." he said worriedly. It was no secret that Cazador always got what he wanted no matter what. You understood why he'd ask for your consent. "You have my consent, but I have yours?" You asked him, it was only fair that you'd asked for his since he asked for yours. Astarion gave you a genuine smile. "Yes, you have my consent." He responded. Then you and him went back into kissing on another. You were too focused on one another that you didn't even noticed that you were actually being watched.
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It's been a while since that happened. You'd think about that night a lot. You've never been intimate with anyone, besides Cazador. But this was a new form of intimacy, Astarion actually cared about what you wanted. Unlike his Master who didn't care about anyone but himself. You felt shivered running up your spine, just thinking about Astarion's hands touching your cold skin again. As much as you wanted to do it again, you didn't want to get caught but Cazador and have Asatrion be punished. If anything, you'd be the one to take the punishment instead of him.
Then the doors of your quarters were open, it was Cazador, he looked much calm, very calm. It was almost concerning. "My dear, may I have a word with you?" He asked, you felt a lump build up in your throat and you got nervous. "Yes, what is it?" You asked him, trying to remain calm as possible. "I've heard something from one of the Spawns. That you and Astarion engaged in something, that didn't involve, embroidery." This made your non beating heart sink, now he knew. "Just say yes or no. No need for an explanation. Just yes or no will be fine." He explained to you. There was no hiding it, he knew and you know what happens when you lie to him.
Taking a deep breath, you answered. "Yes, we did, what you think we did." You responded. Cazador only nodded, then he walked closer to you, taking your hands and brought you up from the bed. He looked at your eyes for a moment, then he leaned in for a kiss. That was odd, he was calm? You thought, as he continued to kiss you. Then he pulled away, placing his hand on your cold cheek affectionately. You only stared at him, confused. "How I'm going to miss those eyes." He said, only making you even more confused. Then your eyes widen and tears developed in your eyes. A strong pain grew in your chest.
Looking down, you saw a wooden stake, piercing through the red decorated fabric of the gown. Blood already pooling on your chest. You looked back at Cazador who had a look of displeasure, with the stake in his hand. He pushed it further and pushed you down, making you whimper. Then you fell to your right side, you were having a hard time breathing in pain. You touched the now bloodied stake. Attempting to pull it out, but it was no use, you'll be dead in a bit. Your hands were shaking aggressively. Laying on your back, in pain and tears pooling in your eyes. As you tried to keep your eyes open, it was no use. You were growing weaker by the minute, the last thing you saw was Cazador watching you die as someone had come in to the courters.
As soon as Astarionn saw you on the floor, bloodied. He couldn't help but feel a wave of shock grow in his eyes. He covered in mouth in disbelief. Seen your now deceased corpse on the floor. With a stake to your heart and blood on your beautiful gown. He didn't hesitate going over and pulling you towards him. "No no, my lady." He whimpered, trying to see any sign of life, but nothing. You were gone, forever. "Be grateful that it wasn't you. I wouldn't want to loose you too soon now." Cazador taunted at him. Astation was more focused on you. He felt all sorts of emotions going on in his mind. All he could do is hug you close to him, holding your head near his lips. Trying to process what was happening. He had accidently touched the blood that was pooled on your gown and accidently smeared it on your left side of your face. He couldn't believe what was happening.
He stayed frozen with your body in his arm. Mumbling that he was sorry many times. Wishing that you'd wake up at any moment now. But now, you remained limp, not moving one inch. You were gone, the love of his life, was gone. He was forced by Cazador to let go of your body, he didn't want to. He too wanted to get flayed just to be with you again, but he knew that his master will not allow it. Your body had been burned, along with most of your belongings and such. As a way to erase you for good. Despite burning everything that you owned, that was not going have Astarion forget about you.
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Two centuries had already passed and Astarion had still not forgot about you. You were in his mind for ages, he still remembered your face, smell, voice, everything. He was not going to allow your memory of you to be forgotten. The painting of you had been moved into Cazador's quarters since he had decided to keep it as his biggest trophy. Astarion had got a few glimpses of the painting when entering the room, he hated the fact that he painting was moved. But one night, he got a small sheet of paper and pain, drawing only your face on the painting. He did a decent job drawing your features, they weren't the best, but he did what he could. He also left out the scar on the left side of your neck, knowing that you didn't like that scar. He kept the picture with him at all times. He would spend hours and hours looking at it. He'd tear up almost all the time, allowing his tears to land on the soft vanilla colored paper. Often wishing that it was him who got staked instead of you. You didn't deserve to die so coldly by HIM.
Then he got captured by the mindflayers and things headed towards another direction. He was taken far from Baldur's Gate, with a tadpole inserted in his brain and now he had to find a way to get rid of it. Just great, that's exactly what he just needed. Then he came across a party of people. Maybe he could join them and help them get back to Baldur's Gate, as well as whatever needed to get done. Perhaps he could use his charm for his advantage. It was an easy plan, but then, he set his eyes on their leader. He couldn't believe it, was it possible You had the face of someone he knew, someone he loved many centuries ago. Perhaps, you may remember him in a way? Or did your new life had made you forget about him? Whatever it was, he wanted to be with you in your new life, maybe he could protect you better or even start an actual relationship with you, but will he fall for you or the person that you once were?
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alottiegoingon · 2 months
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hc!lottie spoiling her gf <3
lottie matthews x fem!reader
summary: how i imagine you and lottie in a relationship with her spoiling you all the time
warnings: pretty much just fluff, daddy issues if you squint, stablished relationship, characters are aged up, nsfw content (mdni), fingering and oral (lottie receiving)
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at first, the idea of letting lottie buy you stuff was absurd. yes she was your girlfriend but why would you let her spend her money on you?? didn't she have other things to spend with? (no)
it first started when you two had just started dating. on the very first day, she met you outside school so you could walk inside together and she had a small bag on her hands
you look up at her feeling embarassed cause you didn't buy her anything and didn't even know that you were supposed to
"dont worry baby, its just a little something that reminded me of you while i was going home yesterday!!" she has the cutest smile ever and kisses you on the cheek before giving you your gift
she didnt buy it while walking home. she has been looking desperately for it ever since you guys started to hang out as friends and paid a ridiculous amount of money for it
you open it up to find the collector's edition of one of your favorite books, little women. you know how expensive it was, you had been wanting that special edition book for ages ever since you first read it when you were thirteen
lottie was nervous while waiting for you to open with her arms practically glued to her body and rocking her body slowly from one side to another. then she sees the surprise and happiness expression on your face and immediately relaxes. shes smiling from ear to ear and looking at you like a puppy with shiny eyes, come on :((
lets be honest, lottie was not a popular girl like jackie!! everyone knew that her parents had money but that girl was just an awkward lesbian loser with daddy issues and didnt know any better than showing her love without buying things until you showed up
it was saturday and you two were just hanging out in the mall one day and she noticed how your eyes were sparkling while staring at a cute dress from a very expensive clothing brand. you were scared to even look at the price tag. you didnt say a word cause you knew that lottie would buy it for you in a blink of an eye but she noticed it
lottie would always pay attention to you and read you like a book, she knew you too well
"thats such a pretty dress, look y/n!" she says excitedly while dragging you by the hand into the store "i need to try it on!"
you sighed in relief knowing that it wasn't for you this time
you watch lottie try the dress in fitting room and you can feel yourself drooling at how stunning she looked (so real of you)
"you look so hot, lott..." you say and the next thing you remember is burying lottie's panties onto her mouth and pinning lottie against the mirror
she was very tall so it wasnt very hard for you to get on your knees and shove yourself right between her legs. you held her thighs by placing your arms under them and were eating her out like a starved woman
lottie's head would have gone through the other side of the glass if it was possible due to how hard she was leaning her head backwards. she had her hands tightened to your hair and the dirtiest and whiniest muffled sounds would come out of her mouth, especially when you inserted two fingers at once inside of her very easily
in less than five minutes you were wiping your mouth with your forearm while lottie was still recovering from her orgasm. her chest was rising as fast as it was falling down and her legs were so sensitive that she needed help to stand up for a few minutes
safe to say that shoving her own panties in her mouth wasn't a very safe option. the message was very clear when you left the fitting room and a bunch of mid aged women that looked like had enough money to buy an entire town were looking at you with death stares
surprisingly (or not), lottie ended up not buying the dress. you two would never come back to that store ever again!!!
the next day you wake up to find a package from that same fancy store on your front door with a note saying "sorry for not being there to see your beautiful smile, i had to buy it online :( hope you like the dress, angel."
and then you remembered that you and lottie had the same body type. oh she was smart.
god, you were already scared for her bank account when your birthday month comes up.
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mxqdii · 7 months
Note
Hi! I hope you’re having a great day! I had an idea for a fic and I thought I’d send it to you!
Theodore Nott or Mattheo Riddle x fem! Reader
The readers on her phone relaxing after spending all Saturday on homework, and she opens tiktok and watches edits edits of her boyfriend and watches some for like hours and then he walks in- (stay with me bestie-) and she dosent notice, and she’s gotten really horny, needy and turned on *cough* maybe she goes on character ai to try to make her miss him less and she’s just super horny- he sees her watching edits of him and it’s just super smutty?
A/n: Also this is my first time requesting! I sent this to a couple of my favorite fanfic authors bc I didn’t know who would respond, I love your work pls keep it up!!
saturday sex - theodore nott (18+)
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pairings: theodore nott x reader
summary: after missing theo a little too much, when he comes back he helps her with her neediness
warning(s): kissing, smut, p in v sex, choking, dom!theo.
not proofread
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after hours and hours of homework, i finally get the time to relax.
laying on my bed scrolling through my phone, i come across an edit account i'm very familiar with.
someone in hogwarts has decided to make some account dedicated to editing people
as i watch the edit, i notice i recognize the person being edited
its my boyfriend, theo.
me just being needy, watching this edit makes me in a heated mood, going into my camera roll, looking at the shirtless pictures theo has sent me in the past
30 minutes later and i've been stalking the edit account, practically drooling at every edit and picture of theo
the door suddenly opens and i'm met with the one and only, in his quidditch jersey, hair wet.
fuck him looking like this does not help the feeling in between my legs
i stare at him, evident lust in my eyes
"what?" he asks, walking closer to me
i stand up, face inches away from him, my eyes flickering to his lips
"theo.. i-" i start but hesitate, looking down
he uses his finger to direct my focus back onto him, looking up at him again seeing the smug look on his face.
"use your words baby" he says, pushing me onto the bed, hovering over me.
i know he won't kiss me until i say what i want.
i groan, "i want you- i need- i need you" i say and he chuckles
he leans in to me, kissing me passionately.
"take 'em off" i say, referring to my pants
"slow down, you're gonna have to wait" he says and i whine
he leaves hickeys all down my neck, hands wrapped around my waist.
after what feels like hours, he finally moves to my pants, undoing them and pulling them down
"lift your hips for me love" (iykyk)
once my pants are fully removed, he takes his shirt off and i trail my fingers over his abs, astonished.
"what is it you need, love?" he asks
fucked out, i answer no hesitation "you theo, i need to feel you"
he chuckles at my neediness and starts undoing his belt.
he takes my underwear off, along with his boxers, lining himself up with my entrance.
"you're sure you want this princess?" he asks and i whine
"yes! please theo"
without any warning, he thrusts into me, going at a soul shattering pace
i let out broken moans and gasps at the feeling
"this what you wanted? to be fucked like the slut you are?" he says, overstimulated with lust.
his hand finds its way to my neck, squeezing.
"you like that? fuck i knew you would" he says, continuously rocking his hips forward
he moves his other hand to rub circles into my clit
i throw my head back, arching my back, feeling the pleasure overtake me.
"cmon i know you're close, cum for me baby" he says and i gasp
the coil in my stomach snaps, everything going white and crashing down.
as he rides me through my orgasm, he has his own, dick twitching inside of me as he lets out groans.
he puts our foreheads together as we both breath heavily.
"fuck that was- just- wow." i say, not finding the words.
"can't have you all horny and unsatisfied isn't that right?" he says and i scoff
maybe i should watch edits of theo more often
TAGLIST:
@stargirlv0id
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jeonqkooks · 18 days
Note
to the loml, my beloved, may i play in the event game? hehe ;u; i would like your take on yoongi + "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" ♡
i love you and congratulations again, jen oi ♡ muah~
sunlit sunday. (myg)
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pairing: yoongi x reader prompts: "did i say that out loud?" + "stop looking at me like that!" genre/warnings: best friends to lovers (?), college au, fluff; mentions of drinking, barely edited word count: 1.1k note: i do not know what this is, nor why it took me over half a year to finish this drabble. cee my love you sent this ask in august 2022 and it took me literally forever to post i'm sorry 😭
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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The sun is already rising, but poor Yoongi hasn’t slept a wink. Partly because he can’t feel his left arm from where it’s being used as your makeshift pillow, partly because last night you told him you were in love with him and proceeded to pass the fuck out.
There was a party - there’s always a party every weekend when you’re in college - that Yoongi didn’t even want to go to. He just wanted to spend his Saturday night holed up in his apartment with you, pizzas and a movie. It gives him something to look forward to at the end of every week, partly because he's nothing if not a creature of habit, but mostly because he gets to spend time with you alone.
But tonight, you wanted to attend, and it didn’t take a whole lot of convincing for Yoongi to (begrudgingly) accompany you to a frat house on campus to spruce up your weekly routine. He would always complain, but you both know that he’d do anything you ask.
That's why he didn't really have anybody else to blame when he found himself having to tuck a very intoxicated you into an unfamiliar bed at 2:30AM in this greasy frat house. It wasn't exactly the best idea, but it was the only one he had. Yoongi wasn't exactly sober, and you were too drunk for him to haul you home.
You babbled nonsense the whole time he was peeling off your shoes and outer layers so you could sleep more comfortably. It was difficult - you're a squirmy drunk - but he managed in the end. When it comes to you, Yoongi has had years of experience, having known you from your early high school days together and being inseparable ever since.
He had gotten under the covers with you, about to try and coax you to sleep when you sighed dreamily at the ceiling, looking so content with whatever thoughts in your head that it felt like you could float away.
"I'm in love with Yoongi," you said, so softly that Yoongi wasn't sure if he heard you right. But even in the midst of tipsy uncertainty, his heart went berserk like it was going to run away from his body. Then you popped the ringing bubble in his head with a sharp giggle, uncaring, so oblivious. "Stop looking at me like that! Did I say that out loud?"
He didn't know what to say, even though it didn't really matter anyway. You weren't in a state of mind to comprehend everything he wanted to ask, everything he wanted to say to you. Yoongi kept his eyes on you while you kept yours on the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
"You did," he muttered, averting his eyes, and you tittered again.
"Don't tell him." You turned to look at him with a finger pressed against your lips. He wasn't sure who you thought you were talking to but he didn't correct you; there was no point in doing so anyway. "It's supposed to be a secret."
He doesn't remember what he said next, if he even said anything at all. Though it doesn't matter because you promptly passed out afterward, and it's unlikely that you'll remember any of it when you wake up.
Everything from then until now is just a jumbled mess to Yoongi, his thoughts full of what the fuck's and his chest full of borderline painful palpitations every time you snuggle further into his warmth, seeking comfort in your sleep.
The thing is, he knows that you were being honest. You meant it, because you're nothing if not an honest drunk; you've disclosed your fair share of embarrassing secrets whilst under the influence before. But never would Yoongi expect to hear those very specific words coming from your mouth, words that reflect the same sentiment that he's been trying to profess to you for years now.
They rolled off your tongue, just like that.
If he's being honest, it wounds him a little bit. He's spent hundreds and hundreds of days thinking about the perfect way to phrase his affection for you and yet, you managed to spill your feelings out without a single care in the world.
Granted, you were drunk out of your mind, but still.
Eventually, you stir from your slumber when blinding sunlight slips through the cracks between the curtains. Yoongi watches you frown before your eyes are even open, then you try to stretch for a brief moment as you look around the strange bedroom, partly alarmed, partly confused.
When your gaze finally lands on him, he catches the way your eyes soften, the edges of your confusion melting away even though he doubts that the sight of him answered any of the questions in your head.
"Morning," you say, your voice heavy with sleep.
"Morning," Yoongi replies quietly.
You share a look, one that means completely different things for the both of you. You're probably hungover, and Yoongi is in love.
So in love that he doesn't even care to berate you for making him spend the night in a random bedroom in a disgusting frat house, where a pair of (likely dirty) boxers is casually chilling draped over a chair. So in love that it expels all sense of fatigue from his body until the only thing coursing through his veins is unfiltered fondness for you and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile.
So in love that he would wait until you're awake enough to ask him to walk you home, ask him to make you your favorite hangover breakfast while you take a long, hot shower to feel like a human being again. He'd wait until you're fed and caffeinated before joining you on the couch, prepared to kill the remaining hours of the day together. So in love that he'd only wait until that moment to tell you the things he's always wanted to say, the things that have always been on the tip of his tongue but he's never been brave enough to utter them to you.
He'd tell you what you need to hear, albeit with a bruised ego that you beat him to the punch but he'd pretend that you didn't. It's a secret shared between only Yoongi and the four walls of this bedroom.
He's so in love that he would endure staying up all night in this dump when he could've been in his own bed, comfortable and clean and cozy. But it's okay because it's Sunday and the sun is out, and you were the one sleeping peacefully next to him, despite how your head made his arm go numb. It's okay because love has a tendency to make awful things feel better, even if love is only stored in a set of sleepy eyes staring at Yoongi and a whiny voice asking to go home.
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.03.2024]
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mixiury · 4 months
Text
Always remembering you - Genshin x GN reader
Characters: Wanderer, Itto, Kaveh, Neuvillette
Summary: You have to leave for a long period of time. What do they do after it? (Basically them missing you)
A/N: I am alive!! Sorry for not posting in a while. Honestly I haven't been very motivated to write but I randomly got this idea so I hope yall like it! (I edited some parts and typos I noticed so hopefully now it is better :)
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Wanderer has no need for things as transitory and insignificant as the attention of others— specially if it comes from an human being— so what makes you believe that you would be an exception?
It's been decades since he last sought companionship after all. The only reason why he asked you to accompany him is to complete the tasks Nahida assigned him. It is just easier for you to do all the hard work instead of him. Don't try to read between the lines.
Yes. Of course it was necessary to stop in the middle of Sumeru's forest to contemplate the surroundings for the past hour. It is part of his job to ensure that there are no potential dangers near the city.
Actually, the fact that the path you were taking was blocked by a tree that mysteriously collapsed in front of you due to a strong blown of wind has nothing to do with him. Why would you think he did that in the first place? You're imagining things.
The only reason he's holding your hand right now is so you don't get lost or delay him by this absurdly long new path he's chosen. Yes, it's clearly the only option you two have, so don't complain and keep walking.
But if you need a moment to rest he won't refuse. And if at any point you decide to lean your head on his shoulder, he won't push you away either. Just don't get used to this, he only allows it because he knows how fragile human bodies are and he prefers to avoid Nahida's scolding for leaving you in the middle of nowhere.
And if you still have doubts, that's right, the fact that all these things happen after not being able to talk to you all week is totally a coincidence.
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Itto, on the other hand, doesn't seem to know the word discretion.
What do you mean you have another important commission to do? But didn't you just finished one yesterday? How about you join him in a beetle tournament instead? Or maybe you can spend time with the gang? Come on, he knows you can't refuse this unique opportunity!
Hmm? That you always spend time with them..? But this time is different! This time they will do something so different and so incredible that you just can't loose! Trust him. Arataki Itto always keep his word!
And it is just that it seems like the entire universe is sending you signals to spend time with him. From Itto posters that mysteriously appear on paper airplanes to his name in the alphabet soup you eat.
But if all that is not enough to convince you that it is the destiny the one putting you together, somehow you both end up meeting multiple times a day. No matter where you look, he will be there.
Do you have to collect different flowers from Inazuma for your commission? It turns out that floristry is one of his hidden talents! Do you have to give them to someone? How curious! He was just talking to that same person! Are you saying he is brothering them? Of course not! He would never do that... On purpose.
There's no point in questioning him, somehow he always has an excuse- (although it doesn't mean they make sense). It's only until you look up at the sky and see fireworks with Itto's face, his signature, and the words "I miss you" that he finally tells you the truth behind all the coincidences that has happened during the day.
However, the moment does not last long, because shortly afterwards different guards come running to capture Itto for alleged harassment and "illegal use" of fireworks without authorization. Complete defamation if you ask him.
At the end, you and Kuki have to visit him in jail and take care of all the paperwork for the damage him and the gang caused. But hey, at least that means his plan worked?
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Kaveh directly doesn't seems able to function properly.
Don't get him wrong, he knows better than anyone how hard it must be for you to be so busy. After all, he has found himself in the same situation as you multiple times in the past.
It's just that he had never noticed the influence you have on his life until that moment, where instead of having breakfast together at the same place as always he finds himself eating preheated noodles from the microwave.
For the first time in a long time he's having trouble concentrating on his work, unable to finish the commission he's been putting off for the last week— not so surprisingly— the same amount of time since you traveled to Fontaine.
Because every time he looks at the paper on the desk he can't stop his hand from drawing sketches of you, his mind clouded with questions about your safety and how you are doing.
Kaveh doesn't really know how to control that feeling so he does the only thing he knows in situations like this; Overwork himself. Going from basically doing nothing all week to creating almost a month's worth of work in a few days.
Of course, it doesn't take much for his friends to notice, trying to reason with him more than once. However, if there is something to recognize from Kaveh it is his stubbornness, reassuring them that everything is completely under control.
It's only until he ends up falling asleep during a conversation with Tighnari that he decides to take action into his own hands, sending you a letter telling you about the situation because your boyfriend can barely stay awake during the day and has been living of coffee.
And despite his reproaches towards Tighnari, he can't help but feel glad the moment you return to Sumeru a few days earlier than anticipated, updating you on every little detail that happened while you were gone and sleeping for almost a full day no long after. He may thank Tighnari later.
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Unlike the others, Neuvillette feels totally fine after you left.
Of course he notice your absence and perhaps your name has appeared in his mind more than three times in the day but that's all. There is no need to worry about it, Take all the time you need.
He continues with his routine as always. He is also a very busy person so he doesn't think a lot of it. He's just walking around in the same place where you met because he's taking a short break. Nothing more than that.
In fact, you might even be able to see him ordering at the same coffee shop where you had your first date, sitting at the same table he sat at back then. But that isn't related to this situation, so please continue what you are doing.
But if you notice how Fontaine has fallen into heavy rain this last month, he will just reassure you that it's completely normal. Probably is just the weather that hasn't been stable lately. Nothing to worry about. Everything is under control as it always has been.
Yet, even if he manages to fool himself, all the melusines notice the way his gaze wanders from the documents on his desk to the empty seat next to him. His eyes shining every moment he hears the door of his office open just to met with the disappointment in them when he realizes it's not you on the other side.
Because despite his attempts to distract himself, it's simply impossible when every place he goes has some memory of you. He knows you won't be away for long so why does he feel like something is missing when you're not around?
Melusines try to talk with him, even requesting help to Furina, but it doesn't seems to be an end of the countless rains that has been occurring since you left.
He will just continue denying his feelings over and over, completely oblivious of them and the attempts of others to cheer him up.
It's hard for Neuvillette to understand the reason for his the emptiness he feels, but when he sees you once again he can't help but notice the great sense of relief that comes with you, immediately asking you how you are doing and making sure you feel welcome.
Maybe with the pass of the time he will be able to come in terms with his feelings but for now all he wants to do is to spend more time with you.
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junkissed · 8 months
Text
happy ending
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member — husband!junhui x f reader genre — angst, fluff, hurt/comfort word count — 6.6k synopsis — a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time. warnings — female reader, planned pregnancy, there's a big argument but i tried to not make it too toxic (jun and reader have a happy & healthy relationship i promise), swearing, there is a happy ending lots of fluff !! notes — requested by anon — this has been sitting in my drafts for months bc every time i look at it i get shy and wanna change my mind but i'm proud of how this turned out so i'm posting it finally! i know pregnancy fics aren't everyone's favorite but this was honestly very comforting to write so i hope anyone who chooses to read can find comfort in it as well <3 also the last time i proofread this was like april and if i try to proofread it rn i'll get shy again and chicken out so if there's any mistakes pls ignore! i hope you enjoy :)
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you sat on the bathroom floor, trying to comprehend the weight of the news you held in your hand. you couldn’t believe it. you could? you couldn’t. 
after many months of trying to start a family with your husband, you had finally succeeded. the slim plastic stick with two tiny pink lines was the last piece of evidence you needed. it had been months of carefully tracked cycles, fertility doctors, and new positions that seemed too weird to actually do anything. but now, everything was finally falling into place.
you don’t know exactly how much time you spend sitting on the floor and staring at the pregnancy test; thinking, planning, and thinking some more. but when you finally stand up and place the positive test on the counter with shaking hands, it still hasn’t fully sunk in yet what’s happening. something you’d wanted for so long, and finally it was all right in front of you.
what do you do now? no— you know exactly what you need to do, and it’s a long list of things. the real question is, where do you begin?
you thought back to all the videos you’d watched over the last few weeks. somehow every social media algorithm knew exactly what you wanted to see, and it had given it to you in abundance; baby showers, gender reveals, those “get ready with me - new mom edition” videos. all getting your hopes up before you could confirm whether or not it had finally happened.
with your hopes high and expectations even higher, you were already beginning to plan how you would break the news to junhui. as your husband and your soon-to-be baby’s father, of course you wanted him to be the very first person to know, so you couldn’t wait too long to tell him. you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
maybe you’d get a little gift box and give the test to him before dinner. but, then again, it was literally a piece of plastic you’d peed on. surely you could give him… something a little nicer than that.
maybe you could buy a baby outfit and wrap it up for him. but you remembered he’d mentioned so many times about how excited he would be to pick out clothes once you got pregnant. you would want him to have the honor of picking out the very first one, going to the store together and looking through the whole section before finally settling on the perfect one.
what else was there you could do? bake a cake? make a crossword puzzle? buy him a t-shirt that says “dad-to-be”? so many ways you could do it, but none of them seemed perfectly right.
from the other room you hear the door opening, and hurriedly you stuff the test into a drawer, not wanting to tell him just yet. you need a plan first; waiting another day or two couldn’t hurt, so you’ll just have to figure out how to tell him later.
you flip off the bathroom light and stride into the hallway, barely able to contain the grin on your face. you’ve always been terrible at keeping secrets, and with news as big and exciting as this you have no idea how you’re going to be able to hide it from him for more than a minute.
but luckily you don’t have to wonder about it for long, because as soon as you see jun you can already tell he’s in a sour mood. 
you know it’s usually best to let him have some time alone when he’s upset, but not for too long because he starts getting frustrated with himself and won’t stop working until he’s exhausted.
but you’re still on a high after everything today, so you decide on being a little bit sweeter to him in the hopes that your happiness will be contagious and that it’ll lift his spirits, despite what was probably a really awful day at work.
you find him sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands, long fingers pressed against his eyes trying to block out the light.
“hey, junnie,” you call out, sitting down in a chair next to him. “bad day?”
“yeah,” he answers shortly.
“i’m sorry, baby,” you hum, putting your hand on his shoulder, but he flinches and your hand falls away in surprise. he’s never done that before. weird. you try something else. “um, any requests for dinner?”
“not hungry.”
“alright. well, i guess i can cook up some veggies and leave them out, you can heat them up whenever you get hungry.”
he moves his hands away from his face and onto the table, sighing as he leans back in his chair. “can you just— leave me alone for a while? i’m sorry.”
you nod and stand up. “no, it’s fine. i get it. i’ll bring you some tea later then, maybe. text me when you’re feeling better.” you reach out and gently touch his hand before walking away, leaving him alone at the table.
it’s definitely one of his worser days, you note, so you retreat to your bedroom to watch more videos on your phone, trying to bring back your excitement from earlier. hopefully later he’ll be more open and you can sit down and eat something, and maybe by then you’ll have come up with a good way to tell him the news.
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an hour passes and you come out of your bedroom to look for jun, having a question from one of your friends about the dinner you’d arranged to have together next week. but he’s no longer in the kitchen, so you peek your head into his office room and find him exactly where you expect him to be, trying to work himself to death.
you clear your throat before you enter, not wanting to startle him again. “hey, junnie, i know you’re in a bad mood, and i’m sorry to interrupt, but—”
“what do you want?” he snaps, never turning around from his desk. just from the way he’s hunched over his computer, he looks like the most stressed you’ve ever seen him, and your chest tightens with worry before your brain registers what he’s just said to you.
“i— excuse me?”
“i said, what do you want?” he repeats, still facing away from you.
you resist the urge to glare at him, knowing he’s probably under a lot of pressure, and you aren’t trying to add to it. “you don’t have to be rude, jun. i just came in here to double check about next weekend, minghao’s texting me.”
he finally lifts his head, slamming his hand down on the desk. “i’m really trying not to snap at you, but— jesus, you make it so fucking hard sometimes.”
you raise your eyebrows in disbelief, your voice lifting in tone. “well, i’m so very sorry to inconvenience you then, but i really don’t appreciate you talking to me like that, jun.”
“and i don’t appreciate you talking to me like i’m a child! when will you get it through your head?”
his comment stings, but you brush it off. “well, maybe if you’d just talk to me like an adult instead of throwing a fit and hiding in your office then i wouldn’t have to treat you like one!” you’re starting to get tired of how he retreats in on himself every time bad shit happens. all you want to do is let him know he doesn’t have to do it alone, and he’s just… exploding at you for no reason, so you don’t try to hide the snarkiness behind your words.
he scoffs angrily and stands up, towering over you at his full height. “oh, grow up! you’re so moody all the time and you expect me to just put up with it! as if i don’t have enough other shit to worry about, i have to worry about what you think of this and that and everything all the damn time!”
you’ve never seen him get so angry like this, and it’s almost scary how completely different this jun is from the jun you know and love. “okay, jun, fine, i’ll just—”
“no, don’t fucking “jun, fine” me. it’s like you’re doing it on purpose at this point, you act like everything is just so perfect and then when it’s not you act like it’s your job to fix everything! you can’t fix everything!”
“i said fine! just forget it, i’ll leave you the hell alone like you always want!”
he pushes past you and crosses the room in two strides, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door, his hand already on the doorknob. “i need to get some air. i’ll be back later.”
you fold your arms over your chest, trying to look unphased but inside your heart is breaking. “you’re really gonna walk out like that? you’re just gonna run away from this? real mature, junhui.”
he spins around, and the look in his eyes is cold. “if i don’t get out of this house right now i’m gonna say something i actually regret.”
and in a flash the door is slammed shut and jun is gone. you can hear his car starting up in the driveway, and seconds later everything is dead silent.
you stand frozen in front of the door, unable to move. you can’t believe it. you can’t. what just happened?
jun has never just… walked out like that.
his words ring in your ears; though your argument wasn’t very long, a lot was said in a very short time and you can’t even begin to think about how to process it as it starts to hit you all at once.
say something he actually regrets? what the hell does that mean? so he’s saying he doesn’t regret everything else, the cursing and the anger and the pointed words that were clearly meant to hurt you?
minute after long minute passes and you realize he’s not coming back anytime soon. finally you drag yourself away from the door, dropping down on the couch in a daze.
there’s never been a time where you and jun haven’t made up immediately after an argument. sure, maybe you take a little bit to cool down in your own space, but neither of you like letting the tension sit unresolved for very long. so what was it this time that made him leave without even a goodbye?
so many reasons, so many excuses, so many words you could’ve said instead. you shouldn’t have reacted like that, you shouldn’t have kept it going, you should’ve just left him alone. would that have made him stay? if you’d backed down sooner and just let him work through it on his own?
despite all the what-ifs and the doubts in your mind, your conscience won’t allow you to let him worry about everything by himself without at least offering your help. you’re a team, husband and wife, and you’ll be damned if you let him forget that. maybe you trying to help actually made things worse in the end, but at least you know you tried… right?
it’s not until you check your phone and realize that jun’s been gone more than half an hour that you finally let yourself cry. you’d been so focused on worrying about where jun was and whether he was okay that you’d barely even thought about what might happen after this.
will he just… come back and pretend nothing happened? will he come back and still be angry at you? it would almost be worse if he was calm and acted like everything was normal. would he even apologize? would you even apologize? of course you would. both of you said things that were fucked up, and you’ll be the first to admit it if it means this whole thing can be over. right now all you want is to have junhui back.
the tears keep falling but you don’t even feel yourself crying, your face rigid as the tears continue to stain your cheeks.
after an hour you force yourself to get up off the couch and move somewhere, anywhere around the house to try and get your mind off things. but you can’t erase his voice from your head, the look in his eyes as he walked out the door and the way his shoulders hunched from anger mixed with exhaustion.
you find yourself back in your bedroom and you fall onto his side of the bed, wishing you would wake up to find that this has all just been a very bad dream.
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it’s after 10pm when you hear your phone buzz on the nightstand and you sit up in a panic, scrambling to see if it’s something from jun. your eyes sting from crying so much, and you blink away the remaining tears as you unlock your phone with shaking hands. your heart drops even further when you realize it is, in fact, from jun, but not the news you want to hear.
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you let your phone slip out of your grasp, tumbling to the carpet with a thud. when he’d said he’d be back later you had assumed that meant he’d be coming back tonight. clearly you thought wrong.
tomorrow seemed so far away; too much time to spend alone in a house that was supposed to be filled with happy memories, but now all you felt was pain. you felt it in your chest and in your stomach and in your head and everywhere. the whole room was suffocating, heavy weight crushing down on you from every angle.
you slide to the floor and pick up your phone. you don’t text junhui back. you’re not sure anymore if he’d even read your message. 
instead you type in your friend seokmin’s phone number, listening to the line ring as you wipe the back of your hand across your eyes.
as soon as he picks up, he can hear the anguish in your voice and he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong, but all you can muster up is a soft, “can i stay with you tonight?” because you can’t bear to be in this house another second without junhui. 
and of course he says yes, and of course he’s immediately on his way over to pick you up. and of course he stops at mcdonald’s on the way back to his house to buy you something to eat, because you haven’t eaten and even though you don’t particularly have much of an appetite right now, seokmin would rather die than let you skip a meal, especially on a night like tonight when you could really use something to keep you going.
you throw your overnight bag on the floor of seokmin’s living room with a small sigh. in a haze you’d tossed in whatever items you thought you might need; a toothbrush, pajamas, something to wash your face with. 
he gives you space for a while as he pulls out the folding bed part of the couch and brings out blankets and pillows for you to sleep with. you don’t say it, but you really appreciate his help. he’s been one of your best friends for so long, and you don’t know what you’d do without him. 
you hadn’t thought about it while you were packing, but as you stand in seokmin’s bathroom you think about the cleanser you’d grabbed; your favorite one, the one jun had gotten you for your birthday last year and you’d never switched to another brand since. 
every single thing reminds you of him, and you push down a fresh wave of emotion as you scrub the foam into your skin, trying to wash away all your tears.
when you’re done getting ready for bed you find seokmin in the living room with a pot of tea. he was just trying to help, but unluckily for him, he’d made green tea. it was your favorite… but it also happened to be jun’s favorite.
and this time you can’t hold back your tears, and seokmin is sitting wide eyed and bewildered, wondering why you’re crying over tea, but he doesn’t ask. he just reaches out to let you hug him, and you squeeze him so tightly you know it must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything, just lets you hug him as hard as you can and lets your tears stain his t-shirt.
it takes another half hour for you to calm down enough to talk. you’d spent the time watching whatever was on tv, not really paying attention and instead playing everything back in your mind. seokmin had just sat next to you, quietly keeping you company until you were ready.
“jun and i… had a fight,” you say finally, interrupting the commercial playing on the screen.
“i figured,” he says, offering you a comforting smile as he mutes the tv. “do you wanna talk about it?”
“i don’t know. there’s not much to talk about.” you take a shaky breath, remembering it all one more time. “we both said some awful things that we didn’t mean. at least, i know i didn’t mean them. then he just… left, and he texted that he’d come home tomorrow. that’s it.”
you don’t tell him about the pregnancy test. you’ve mentioned once or twice that you and jun had been interested in starting a family, but you’d never gone into detail about it and you weren’t going to now. you still wanted jun to be the first person to know, even though you didn’t know when that might be anymore.
you tell him about other things instead, about your day at work and your plans for the weekend. eventually you finish your tea, and seokmin retreats to his own room and shuts the door with a quiet click, leaving you alone in the quiet of his living room.
it takes you a long time to fall asleep, but soon your exhaustion catches up with you and you let yourself rest, physically and emotionally drained. at least the silence here isn’t as bad as the silence at your house.
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across town in his friend seungcheol’s guest bedroom, jun can’t stop tossing and turning. he’s fucked up, he knows he fucked up, big time.
why did he leave? he shouldn’t have left. you had been absolutely right, he was running away from everything and it was stupid and dumb and immature. but in that moment all he could think about was what the next awful thing he might say to you was, and he knew if he had stayed for any longer he wouldn’t have been able to stop what came out of his mouth. he was out of control, and immediately he knew it.
not even the worst day in the world could make you deserving of all the things he said to you. you were the only thing that wasn’t bad in his life; even on shitty days like today, all you did was care about him. and all he did was hurt you.
jun barely sleeps that night, finally forcing himself out of the extra bed at dawn. he’d been too anxious to sleep, too frustrated with himself to do anything other than think about everything he did and wonder if you were okay without him.
he’d already gotten an earful from his friend last night, and he knew he was still in big trouble. the things he said wouldn’t just go away overnight. in fact, they’d probably gotten worse by leaving them to build up overnight, and again he’s kicking himself for ever leaving in the first place.
he packs up his things as quickly as he can, eager to get home and see you again. on his way out the door, he thanks seungcheol for letting him stay the night and he apologizes for bothering him so late.
“i’m not the one you need to apologize to. you better figure out how to fix this, jun.”
with a straight face he nods, bowing his head as he closes the door.
in his car, jun takes the long way home, trying to find an open grocery store. he knows it won’t make up for how he acted, but the very least he can do it buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
he walks through the aisles, basket in hand, trying to think of something else for you. maybe he’ll get the ingredients he needs to make your favorite dinner tonight; he hadn’t eaten last night, though you had offered to cook for him and he’d shot you down.
he feels another pang of guilt at the thought, remembering yet another kind gesture you’d tried to give him that he’d brushed off like it meant nothing. it meant everything to him, and in the middle of the frozen vegetables aisle he swore he wouldn’t ever do it again. 
he’d taken you for granted, and he was so lucky that things hadn’t ended worse than they did. he could’ve said something truly unforgivable, or he could’ve even lost your relationship altogether. but he was still yours, and you were still his, and he would just have to work extra hard to make sure you knew how sincere he was.
he’d been a little worried that you hadn’t texted him back last night, seeing that you’d read his message but never responded. you were probably still hurt, and he didn’t blame you; still, he’d hoped you would say something back.
with grocery bags loaded full of ingredients for dinner and the special things he’d bought for you, the drive back home feels a little more hopeful.
he plans out everything he’ll do in the car. he’ll bring the groceries in and put them away quickly; it’s still fairly early in the morning, so hopefully you won’t be awake yet. he’ll arrange your flowers all nice in a pretty vase, and he’ll come in and wake you up with the best apology of his life and hopefully a really big hug. after the last 24 hours he really could use a hug, and he’s sure you could too. and then he’ll explain how sorry he is and how he didn’t mean any of it and then everything will be better again. yes, everything will be okay.
the first part of his plan goes perfectly. he sneaks into the house and when he’s met with silence he continues putting everything away, quietly so he won’t wake you up in the other room. then, he puts the flowers in a vase and with everything in place, he walks down the hallway to finally face you.
but when he twists the bedroom door handle, the bed is made and the room is empty. you aren’t there.
he frowns, leaving the room and poking his head into the bathroom, then his office. he calls your name loudly, hoping you’re just in a corner of the house and you’ll come out once you hear him. but no reply.
he goes back into the living room and sets the vase down on the coffee table, trying to think. you aren’t usually up this early, but maybe you hadn’t been able to sleep and you’d gone out for a walk, or maybe you’d gone to the store to get more cereal? 
a sinking feeling rises in his chest, and he walks back into the bedroom to confirm something, sliding open the closet door to check. your overnight duffel bag is gone.
he ducks back into the bathroom to check something else. your toothbrush isn’t sitting in the jar like it usually is. he slides open the bathroom drawer to check one more thing, and—
his hand freezes on the knob, staring at something in the drawer that wasn’t there before. he’s not sure it is what he thinks it is, but either way there it is, clear as day in front of him: a little white piece of plastic, sticking out from underneath a tissue. 
gingerly he pulls it out, holding it up to the light to see it better. when he sees the two pink lines he nearly drops it in shock, but he stops himself, setting it gently on the counter instead.
this is something special, something precious, and he knew he had to take care of it. you’d saved it for a reason; you could’ve easily just thrown it away once you knew the results, but you had kept it instead. were you going to give it to him?
he covers his mouth with his hand, still staring at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. it was just a cheap piece of plastic, but to him it was the most important thing in the entire world.
he deflates when he realizes you’d probably been planning on telling him last night, before he’d blown up at you. if he’d been paying attention to anyone other than himself, he would’ve noticed your mood was happier than usual, your face glowing with contained excitement. he should’ve been paying attention.
there’s a sense of urgency in his stride as he dashes around the house, looking for any other sign of you, but it’s clear you weren’t there. there were so many places you could be, he can’t even begin to think of where to look. your parents, friends, family; hell, you could even have stayed in a hotel, alone and upset. he should’ve been there. none of this should’ve ever happened.
immediately he presses the speed dial for your phone, but of course– no answer. he calls again, and again you don’t pick up. he curses, resisting the urge to slam his phone down on the table in frustration. no, he has to stay calm. that’s what got him into this whole fucking mess in the first place.
he remembers that your parents are out of town on vacation, so you probably wouldn’t have gone there. you wouldn’t have gone to a hotel because you always lecture him about the importance of saving money “just in case”, so you wouldn’t have paid to stay somewhere. your sister is still in college and shares an apartment with three other people, so probably not the best idea either. 
that narrows it down to one of your friends’ houses; seokmin, who lives a couple blocks away, or joshua, who lives on the other side of town.
he figures seokmin is his best bet, so jun takes a deep breath and finds the contact in his phone.
“what do you want?” seokmin’s usually cheery voice has an edge to it today, and jun knows he’s picked right.
“is she there?” he asks anxiously.
“she is,” he confirms, and jun exhales, letting out the breath he had been holding in. “but she’s asleep still. i’ll let her know you called.”
“wait,” jun adds quickly.
the line is silent for a moment, and he’s afraid seokmin’s already hung up, but finally he gets a response. “what is it?”
"can i–are you sure? please," jun pleads. if he could just talk to you, just explain what happened and that he's so fucking sorry—
“hold on,” seokmin says, and the phone goes quiet again.
jun’s heart is in his throat as he waits for a response, and he stops when he finally hears your voice. “hello?”
he breathes a sigh of relief. “sweetheart. i’m so sorry.”
you don’t reply, so he continues.
“i’m glad you’re okay,” he starts, trying to put the right words together. “i shouldn’t have said any of that last night, and i shouldn’t have left. i didn’t mean it. i’m sorry.”
“thanks” is all you say, and he hates how small and sad your voice sounds. it’s his fault you sound like that.
“i found your test,” he bursts out, unable to hide his excitement any longer.
“oh." you pause, swallowing. "so… you know.”
“yes, i do know, baby. i’m so sorry, if i had known before—”
you cut him off, your tone suddenly rising with anger. “‘if you had known?’ so you won’t yell at me if i’m pregnant, but you’re just fine with yelling at me when you think i’m not? is that the only reason why you’re even apologizing to me right now?"
“no— fuck, no, of course not. i shouldn’t yell at you, period. and i’m not going to ever again.” jun pauses for a second, rubbing his hand over his eyes. he’s done nothing so far but make everything worse. “i really messed up, honey, and i’m sorry. i can’t say it enough. but— please, come home. i don’t want to talk over the phone.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears that threaten to fall again. you don’t want to cry about this anymore. “okay,” you say finally. “i’ll be home in a little while.”
“thank you,” jun says, and the way his voice breaks makes your heart sink. you can tell he feels awful about everything, and you do really, really miss him.
“…i love you," you add, changing your mind at the last second.
“i love you, too!” he says immediately. “i love you, too, honey. text me when you’re on your way.”
“i will.”
he says “i love you” twice more before you end the call. you sit in silence for a second, processing everything before you stand up off the couch and head to seokmin’s room to give him back his phone.
"can you take me home now, please?" you tell him softly, and immediately seokmin stands up and hugs you, his arms wrapped tightly around you.
"of course. let me know when you're ready."
half an hour later you find yourself in the front seat of seokmin’s car once again, this time sitting nervously in his driveway as he puts your bag in the trunk for you. you're still not sure if you're ready to face jun yet, but you know you have to.
reluctantly you unlock your phone and open your text messages with jun, your eyes landing on the text he'd sent last night that had gone unreplied. with shaky fingers you type out that you're leaving seokmin’s house, and jun replies almost instantly with a long string of heart emojis.
seokmin gets into the car and starts it, and you exhale and set your phone in the cupholder.
"are you okay?" he asks, turning to look at you. "because you can always let me know if you need anything. anytime, day or night."
"i'm alright," you say, taking a deep breath. "i'm fine. but thank you, seok. i really appreciate everything."
he smiles, shifting the car into reverse. "of course. it's no problem at all."
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the second he hears the car pull up outside the house, jun jumps up off the couch, smoothing his shirt down anxiously. through the window he watches seokmin hand you your bag and close the trunk, giving you one last hug before he gets back in the car. he doesn't drive away until you're at the front porch, and with a deep breath jun swings open the door, before you can even knock.
you both stand there in silence for a second before he blurts out another apology. "i'm sorry," he rushes to say. "i'm really sorry."
you give him a weak smile. "can i maybe… get in the house, first?" you ask quietly, motioning with your free hand at the doorway.
"yeah, i— yeah, shit, of course," jun says as he practically jumps out of your way, holding the door open for you to walk inside.
you set your bag on the floor by the couch as he closes the door behind you. the sound of the lock clicking seems too loud in the uncomfortable silence that settles over the room.
"can… can i give you a hug? please?" he asks, and you stay quiet but nod. 
he closes the distance between you in one stride and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly and holding you close to his chest. "i'm so sorry, honey. i didn't mean any of it. i promise."
"i believe you," you finally manage, your voice a little muffled from how he's pressing you against him.
he doesn't say anything more, just holds you and holds you, and it feels so good to be home where you belong. there's a lot that needs to be said, but for right now you don't need any more words. you're just glad to be back together again.
after a while you pull your head away from him so you speak. "i'm sorry."
"why are you apologizing? you didn't do anything wrong, baby. i'm the one that needs to be apologizing."
you shake your head. "no. i said some things last night, too. granted, not as bad as you, but…"
jun breaks out into a grin at your joke, and you feel your mood start to lighten. "…which is true. and i'm sorry."
"jun, you can stop apologizing now. i get it, you're sorry. you don't have to tell me a million times," you say, trying to laugh a little.
now it's his turn to shake his head. "well, i'm going to anyway. because i am sorry." you look away from him, feeling embarrassment start to boil up, but he continues talking. "i'm serious. i'll say it as many times as it takes to make it right."
you turn your head back to him, struggling to keep a straight face. "why did you leave, jun?" you ask softly.
he takes a deep breath, and still trapped in his arms you can feel his chest expand with the breath. 
"it was stupid," he says finally. "i left because i didn't want to stay and risk hurting you more. but i realize i did that anyway, by leaving. i was just… i needed some air. but i shouldn't have stayed away, and i'm not gonna do that again. i won't do it, ever again."
"i just don't want you to leave me," you manage, trying and failing to hide the crack in your voice as you feel your eyes start to well up with tears.
he hugs you tighter and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head, gently smoothing your hair with his thumb. "i know, baby, i'm sorry. i'm not going to, i promise."
you don't respond, but you know he's telling the truth. the last 24 hours have been hell for the both of you, and you don't doubt he means every single "i'm sorry" he's said.
"so…" jun starts, and you tilt your head up at him.
"so?" you know what he's going to say next, and despite the excitement you had yesterday you feel yourself dreading this part of the conversation.
"you're pregnant?"
you sigh, looking down and avoiding his eyes. "yeah."
he hums. "but you don't sound excited?" he asks.
"well, i was, last night."
"i'm sorry," he winces. "do you wanna tell me now and i'll pretend this didn't happen and i don't know about it?"
you shake your head. "no, it's fine. the moment's kinda… ruined, already."
he sighs. "yeah, i know. i'm sorry i ruined it."
"i said it's fine, jun."
"no, it's not fine," he says firmly. "it's one hundred percent my fault. this is important to you, and to us, and we should be celebrating right now. last night should never have happened."
"jun, it's in the past. it was messed up, but i forgive you," you say, lifting you head to look at him once more. "it's not a big deal. we're okay now."
"i just want you to be happy about it," he says with a sniff. "we've been trying for so long, and finally…" he trails off, staring at you with watery eyes. 
you smile at him. "i am happy about it, junnie. i'm so happy, you can't even believe."
"did you tell seokmin?" he asks, and his brows furrow when you shake your head no.
"no, i didn't. i wanted you to be the first i told," you say shyly. "i knew you would want to be the first to know."
"i love you so much," he says, still hugging you. he's never going to let you go, never again. "do you know how far along?"
"no, i didn't go to the doctor. probably like two or three weeks, though, if i've been counting it right."
"wow," he sighs, a smile on his face as he stares off into the distance behind you. "i can't wait."
you watch his eyes, practically able to see the thoughts running through his head. 
after a while he loosens his grip around you, moving to swipe at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand. "well—anyway," he starts, giving you an awkward chuckle. "i bought stuff for breakfast. if you haven't had any, yet. and i'm making dinner tonight, too."
before you can even respond his eyes widen, like he's just now remembering all the things he had planned, and he lets go of you, bounding into the kitchen. he returns seconds later with a huge glass vase full of flowers, practically tripping over his own feet in his rush to hand them to you. "and i got these for you, too. sorry they're not the best, it's all the store had this morning."
"junnie, if this is the best the store had, then i don't think i wanna see their best," you laugh, holding the flowers up and admiring the dozens of bright blooms. "this is gorgeous, but you really didn't need to get me anything."
"but i wanted to," he counters, still running around the room to grab the gift bag sitting by the couch. "consider it an 'i'm very sorry' slash 'congrats you're having a baby' gift."
you set the vase down on the table next to you and take the bag from him, pulling out the tissue paper and crumpling it into a ball.
"i didn't have a whole lot of time to look this morning, but i found these," he says nervously, waiting for your reaction.
from the bag you pull out a miniature plastic hanger holding a set of tiny pajamas covered in little kitties, attached to a matching set of striped orange socks.
"i wanted to be the first person to get you baby clothes," he explains as he fidgets with his hands. 
"i knew you would," you smile at him, setting the empty bag and the clothes on the table along with the bouquet of flowers. "and they're perfect. they're so… you."
you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him back in for another hug. "i love all of it. thank you, jun."
he grins, rocking you back and forth in his arms and leaving kisses all over your cheek. "i love you too, baby. i missed you so much. i won't ever do that again."
"i know," you smile. "now… you promised me breakfast, isn't that right? because i'm starving. crying is exhausting."
he laughs. "no crying anymore. and i did promise you that, so tell me: do you want blueberry waffles, or strawberry?"
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meshlasolus · 5 months
Text
Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me
Dbf!Joel Miller x College!Reader
A/n: Listen… I don’t have any excuse for ditching my other three active series except for tiktok made me do it… That, and the CLM series by @macfrog has ascended me to a new level of crazy and I just needed an outlet for it somewhere. Another shoutout to @theatrelove3000 who keeps putting up with my dbf joel shenanigans, they are indeed insane.
Warnings: girl this whole concept should be a warning but anyways… age gap, some fluff, light smut, uncomfortable situations with readers father… probably some editing mistakes bc ya girl is tired ok its 2am
Please be kind to this chapter, I actually like it, despite the horrors.
Decided on the song ‘Mary On A Cross‘ by Ghost for this one bc it fits ig.
MASTERLIST
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Age gap is approximately 15 years or so, reader is over 21 and joel is about 37
"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."
Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.
"You could work on interior stuff with me."
It had been almost three days.
You looked out the window to the front of your house repeatedly to try and remember it clearly. The drive home, the kiss, and how abruptly it ended with a promise to see each other around. You thought about it so often you almost wondered if it happened the way you perceived it, if any details had been skewed in your mind simply because you wanted to keep it there, fresh, untouched. Maybe he thought of it differently... but maybe he didn't.
"Did you bring home the stuff I asked ya?" Your dad came into the kitchen with a smile, embracing you with a side hug and turning to help you unpack the groceries.
"Course' I did, Pa," you handed him the bag with the six-pack of bud and the other one full of snacks.
It was the first Rangers game night, and as per tradition, that meant the company of the next-door neighbors. It had been a while since you'd been around to enjoy it, but now that you were back, there were quite a few more reasons why you were on edge to now participate. It would look weird if you came up with an excuse not to be there, and you knew that. You also knrw that you'd gotten into a rather complicated entanglement with your father's closest friend, and weren't sure what the outcome really was.
Had that driveway light not spooked you both apart, and had that little black stray cat not made an appearance, how far would it have gone? Things were pretty heated, but even still. Would he have said something? Maybe along the lines of 'I've known you since you were sixteen, and this isn't appropriate at all.'
You didn't have time to think about it, you were set to work on helping your dad cook dinner for the soon-arriving neighbors. Dinner and a baseball game, once a relaxing and enjoyable time to bond with your dad, now turned into an anxiety fest where you were convinced you'd have to walk on pins and needles around every topic.
"So," your dad piped up from his silence at the stove, stirring the pot of chili he'd been prepping. "Joel told me he gave you a ride 'few nights back."
You knew it was harmless, and that he wasn't asking for any reason, other than that he was probably curious. You hadn't seen Joel in a while, not since two Christmases ago. Your dad had driven up to Dallas to spend both Thanksgiving and Christmas with you last year, and you didn't come home for summer break given an internship opportunity. You must have seemed different to the man in some way. All grown up.
"Yeah, gave me a ride n' saved me at the bar," you chuckled, trying to seem playful and unsuspicious about the encounter.
He seemed to be confused, his brows furrowed and a funny look on his face.
"Whad'ya mean he saved ya?" he of course was continuing to speak all the while dumping his favorite spices into the pot of chili, looking across here and now to keep engaged.
"Just scared off some weirdo who couldn't take no for an answer," you let a sweet and genuine smile fall across your features, but didn't let it get out of hand. Your relationship with your father was airtight, and he could read you pretty damn well. You weren't going to give anything away, not with what was potentially on the line.
"Glad he was there," he replied with a chuckle, sending you a soft glance. "Never thought you'd have grown up so fast, now I gotta carry a shotgun whenever we go places. Fend off the wild beasts."
His jokes were only so funny now, because in this situation, you knew he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Joel if he found out what had happened. All in the nature of protecting you, but it made you sad to think of the situation that way. Joel wasn't just another weirdo following you around at a bar.
"It's only because I'm so pretty," you did your best to respond lightheartedly, making a quip that would soothe the silence. "And I believe that's yours and Mama's fault, givin' me the genes and what not."
You'd finished chopping a nice garden salad by the time the doorbell rang. You ran upstairs to change your shirt to the Jersey your dad bought you for your birthday, claiming it was good luck for the team. Truth be told, you didn't wanna be downstairs when Joel and Sarah got here.
Sarah was here, too. Her, you could easily handle. You were almost hoping that she would be in a rather talkative mood, that way the attention could be swayed to her inconspicuously. You doubted Joel would even try to talk to you, anyway.
"Lovebug, come on down, Millers are here!" Your dad shouted up, even though he saw you run upstairs right when the doorbell rang to change your shirt.
"I'm comin', hold on," you replied sassily while heading for the staircase.
You got to the bottom and had to take a breath before turning the corner into the entryway. Joel stood there with a sweet smile to you, and you tried your best to hold back the one you wore. It was too bright, too happy to see him. All despite your nerves.
You were quickly embraced by Sarah, whom you paid immediate attention to.
"My lordy, girl," you held up your hand by your shoulder to show the height difference, "last time I saw you, you must've been this tall."
"Dad tells me I'm growing like a weed," she tossed a finger over her shoulder to where he was standing, and you gave him a small glance and a smile.
"Us daughters do have a tendency to grow up," you laughed, slinging an arm around Sarah and pulling her along to the kitchen as your dad and Joel did the same behind you.
Why had you been so anxious? Joel is happy to see you. He makes causal conversation with your dad, but he catches your eye every chance he gets. His expression doesn't change, except for the tug of his lips in a smile that's barely there. Joel doesn't smile too often, except apparently when you and Sarah are around.
It doesn't take long for everyone to get situated with their food at the table, playful banter between Joel and your father filling the air as you made less rambunctious chatter with Sarah.
She's doing pretty well since last you saw her. She was always a bright girl, but as she grew it became more apparent that she would probably excel further than anyone in her graduating class. You were sitting across from a future valedictorian, you were sure.
You'd tried to ask her about her out of school interests before your dad interrupted with a question.
"How about you, lovebug?" He watched your eyes flick over to him with a turn of your head. He added context, given you hadn't been listening to them earlier. "Are you gonna look for a summer job?"
You really should, if you're being honest. There's not much work in your aspiring profession located here, but you weren't as lucrative as you used to be, given your educational expenses.
"I've thought about it," you tilted your head back and forth, and your dad seemed to need more from your answer. "I need to earn some cash before I get back to Dallas, but I'm not really sure where to apply."
Sarah seemed to know where this was going before you did. She'd been around the last time your dad was begging Joel to find some help for the contracting team they worked with. But surely your dad doesn't expect you to build houses, does he? Your dream job is to dig holes in the ground, not fill them in and put homes on top.
"We got some spaces to fill, you should come work with us 'few months. The pay's good and you don't have to stay on long, probably just till the end of July."
You gave him a look, and he instantly knew you weren't interested, but you figured you'd try and justify your reasoning. It was an argument either way.
"I think I'd probably only slow'ya down," you chuckled, looking to Sarah who seemed to read the displeasure off your face from your dad's offer. "I'm studyin' to be an archeologist, dad. I don't know nothin' about framin' and all that house buildin'..."
Maybe it had been your dad's idea, but he wasn't the one who planted it into his own head. Joel subtly turned to you and cooly uttered a response.
"You could work on interior stuff with me."
Did he just-?
"S'not much more fun than what your dad's been doin,' but at least it's out of the sun, and easier to learn."
You were almost dumbfounded. Your dad offering you a job that potentially could give you heat stroke with your lack of experience seemed like the worst idea in the world... but working on interior projects? With Joel of all people? Well, that didn't sound so bad.
You didn't want your dad to catch on, of course. Being so protestant of his suggestion, but then falling right into it as soon as Joel was the one to offer would be a dead giveaway to some sort of favoritism to his best buddy. It simply wouldn't look right.
"What kinda interior stuff?"
He smirked. The motherfucker was smirking. He knew you'd changed your mind, but couldn't exactly just come out with it. He understood, but it was still slightly amusing to him.
"Flooring, cabinets, countertops... 's things like that," he explained, knowing you really didn't care what all it entailed. He was still happy to play along. "S'not as fun as archeology, but it pays alright."
You nodded, acting as though you were turning the thoughts over in your head.
"Well, if you're sure I won't mess it up, I'd be happy to try it out," was your final response. You figured it left some leeway in case your father became suspicious, but gave a good enough answer to end the conversation on.
"That's my girl," your dad clapped a hand on your shoulder in excitement. Truth be told he would very much enjoy your presence on a work site. "I'll go ahead and call Eddie in the morning, let 'im know I found someone to replace Charlie for interiors."
It was said more to Joel, you figured, because you didn't really know who either of those people were. He'd nodded to your dad, taking a sip of his beer and then looking back to you. You smiled sweetly, nobody catching it but the one it was meant for.
"Game's gonna start soon," Joel spoke aloud, drawing everyone's eye to the clock over the stove.
Sarah cleared her throat before jumping in on the conversation.
"About that," she looked to her dad with the same puppy dog eyes she used to use against you. He was just as poor at saying no to her when she pulled those bad boys out. "Sammy texted me to ask if it's okay to stay over at her place tonight?"
Joel sighed. He knew that no matter the attempts he made for her to like baseball, it wasn't her thing. It was summer vacation, and he had no reason to say no, so he didn't.
"Is she coming to pick you up?" He began, fishing his keys out of his pocket to drive her if need be. The girl lived five minutes away, he'd be back only a few minutes after the game started, but he didn't really want to leave.
"I can ask her," she pulled her phone back out of her jeans, opened her screen, and checked her messages.
"No need, I can take you," your voice rang out, standing from the table and taking your bowl to the sink. It was a genuine offer, but it was also to get out of the house and process what just happened with the job situation.
Joel was the first one to stand up with you.
"You don't have to-"
"It's fine," you cut him off, leaving no room for discussion. It was lucky he liked you, otherwise, Joel Miller might have put up quite the argument for such a small dilemma. As was his way, of course. He huffed, but accepted he had been overruled.
"Thanks, then." It was mumbled, but there was gratitude in it.
"We gotta hop over to ours real quick and grab my stuff," Sarah told you, waiting for you to return from the kitchen before beginning to head out through the front door. You'd grabbed your keys off where they hung on the wall before going behind her.
"I'll be back soon," you called over your shoulder into the house, and got a chirped 'alright' reply from your dad.
You walked out passed your driveway, seeing the light flicker on as you both went passed the censor on the ground.
"Y'know, I didn't think you'd have caved so fast on that job thing." She had piped up once you were almost to her porch. You found it only slightly funny that she chose the exact topic which had been swirling in your mind since it happened.
"Not sure I really wanna do it, but your dad made it sound better than every time my dad's talked about it, guess he just convinced me," you chuckled, playing it off in a way that she absolutely was about to use against you.
"That's another thing," she turned to you as she backed into the house through the door, only turning once she was inside. "Since when are you friends with my dad?"
She said it in a joking tone, but having known a few things she didn't about interactions that occurred between you and her father, you felt constricted to answer seriously. Probably with a lie if need be.
"I've always gotten along with your dad," you gave her a confused look, accompanied after by a playful smile.
She grabbed her backpack and opened it, checking to make sure she'd taken all the school stuff out before starting to shove things in, her charger, headphones, etc.
"Yeah but... you're just all young and cool and stuff," she shrugged, turning around to walk towards the staircase. "My dad is all old and boring and only talks about baseball."
"Thirty-seven isn't old, babe. My dad is two years from fifty, and I don't even think he's old, yet. Boring? Maybe..." you reasoned, hearing her laugh before she sprinted up the stairs, giving you time to think of some answers before she asked any more questions. Had she really caught onto you that fast? You didn't think you'd acted noticeably. If Sarah was able to see it, then maybe your dad did, too. You needed to be more careful, in that case.
Sarah returned a few minutes later, her backpack now stuffed and her pillow under her arm. You nodded out the door and headed back to your driveway to open the door for her, seeing as though her hands were full.
-
The drive after Sarah had been dropped off felt so much longer. Maybe it was just your thoughts, or maybe you consciously drove slower to avoid getting home too quickly. Your dad was waiting, but above that, Joel was there, too. Probably sitting back on the leather couch, relaxing with his feet kicked out on the floor. He usually leaned onto the armrest with his elbow, and held his face against the hand it supported. You'd noticed it years ago. He only ever spoke up when your dad did, usually in reply to him.
He was content simply watching the game in the presence of a friend. It was endearing.
When you pulled into the driveway, you had come up with an excuse to not remain downstairs for the duration of the game. It was too risky, and you weren't apparently as good with self-control as you'd thought you were.
You went inside and hung up your keys on the hook, immediately passing the living room on the way to the stairs.
"Hey, lovebug, you missed the top of the first," your dad called. He knew you liked baseball, so if you were to lie and say you didn't want to watch, he'd know something was up.
"Y'know, pa, I think I'm just gonna watch it upstairs, I forgot I still got some stuff to unpack," you peaked your head into the room to respond, and saw that Joel, just as you had pictured, was sitting in his most usual position on the couch, feet out on the floor, arm up with a hand holding the side of his face.
"Can't you do it later?" Your dad pleaded, but you knew, seeing as how your father occupied the recliner, you would have no where else to sit but on the floor or next to Joel. You didn't trust yourself with that.
"I could, but I might fall asleep if I wait too long."
He sighed, throwing an arm in your direction and shooing you away. He wasn't annoyed, but he'd admit he missed watching these games with you. It had been like a tradition, but if Sarah wasn't here either, he wasn't gonna make you stick around.
"Sure you don't wanna stick around? We could use your lucky jersey down here," Joel piped up, lifting his face from his hand and giving you a pair of soft eyes. That was exactly the reason you would not be staying. He didn't even realize how much he affected you, but you'd make sure he did at some point. Maybe you could just tease him a little.
"You're right, it would be a shame to take the lucky jersey with me."
You walked behind your dad's chair, out of his sight, and tauntingly stripped the jersey over your head, revealing the tight black tank top beneath it, just like that night at the bar. Joel's jaw clenched and his eyes turned darker, even under the bright light of the flatscreen in the living room. You never took your eyes away from his as you slung him the jersey.
"Hey pa, can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go upstairs?" You leaned over the back of his recliner, looking at him upside down. He chuckled and shook his head, trying to move your hair from obstructing his vision.
"We're all good, lovebug," he spoke in addition to his physical response, his laughter dying down as you stood back up. "Come on down if you change your mind."
"I'll probably be down later," you spewed a half-lie. You weren't sure if you would be or not, especially if Joel was still lurking in the living room.
You gave those brown eyes one last look before heading straight upstairs.
You grabbed your remote and flicked on the TV. It was already on the right channel, so you tossed the remote aside onto your bed and flopped back into it. You didn’t actually have anything left to unpack, but they would never have known.
Your phone buzzed beside you, and you lifted the screen to your face to see a text from an unsaved number:
Missin you down here…
You’d never put Joel in your contacts, because in highschool, your friends thought it was weird to even text or call him regularly, but you had his number for years, always just as a backup. You’d known it by heart, now, and nearly had it memorized back then, too, for the times you needed his help.
I’d come back if there was an open seat.
A bit sassy of a response, maybe, but you were hoping he’d understand the hidden meaning behind it… Although, Joel didn’t usually pick up on those things very easily.
Open seat right next to me
Yeah, that’s why I’m up here…
You huffed, realizing it wouldn’t be that easy. The three little dots indicating his next response was on the way slightly nerved you. Maybe he took the last text you sent the wrong way. You didn’t mean it to sound badly.
What’s that supposed to mean?
Means that I can’t keep my hands to myself.
You quickly rectified the situation, although you might have gone too far. He was taking far too long to answer, now. The little dots that before nerved you would now be your saving grace if it meant he would just fucking respond, already. You dropped the phone on your chest, raising up and down in a scattered rhythm while you wiped your hands over your face. Your phone vibrated over your shirt and you immediately opened it.
I can’t either. Stay up there.
You breathed out a sigh of relief. He was thinking the same things you were, and likely was under more stress for it, given he sat right across from your dad, responding to his comments about the game here and there. Your dad had no idea what was happening right under his nose.
Wasn’t thinking about leavin.
This little back and forth went on, the majority of the game, in fact. It was more-so about the plays then on, because you didn’t have anyone to talk to up here.
Joel thought it a bit funny, your dad would say something oddly specific about one of the players, and then you’d text him right after saying the exact same thing. You’d been a product of watching baseball with your old man for just about ever.
“I’m thinking about gettin’ some tickets over the summer for a game or two. They’re always cheaper in them group packages, you n’ Sarah should come along,” your dad was barely paying any attention to the words he spoke, but they came flowing out anyway, clear and cool. “Could be fun.”
Joel knew that there was only so much group interaction he could handle with you, and you with him. It stands to why you’re upstairs, an he’s down here, fist wrapped tightly around your lucky jersey. All out of your father’s sight, of course.
“It could be. Don’t think Sarah’s much for baseball anymore, though.”
He’d hoped that your dad would drop it. Halfway through his third beer, he hoped the man was a little more than tipsy, and maybe didn’t even mean the words he was saying.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t still tag along,” your dad was definitely still sober enough to keep it up, although the way he spoke became slower. Maybe he was getting sleepy.
“I’ll think about it.”
His response was followed by a hum, then a lull of silence that endured the rest of the game. He sat all the while and thought about his predicament a bit more.
He couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was insane… like you’d leeched yourself to the inner workings of his mind and he wouldn’t be able to pull you off without hurting himself, too. You were just upstairs, and had been texting him. You were within his vicinity, and yet… so unreachable.
He’d wished for you to be down here, or for him to be up there with you. Obviously, that wouldn’t go too well with the man sitting next to him, but he’d be asleep soon. If he could just touch you again, just kiss you one more time, maybe his cravings would be satisfied and he could go about his days… but what would happen if he kept feeling the addictive urge to do more? What if he was never satiated enough to quit you?
The game was called, and you’d texted him a small ‘victory’ at seeing the Rangers had won.
It was wrong, and the presence of his friend beside him was a constant reminder that you were his kid, and he would have a final say. Even though you were an adult, he understood this was completely taboo, and you should be off with guys your own age... but he’s made up his mind about the thoughts spinning in his head.
He didn’t respond, though. Your dad stood up out of his chair, his arms stretching outwards with a loud yawn as he took a few steps forwards, clapping his hand down on Joel’s shoulder.
“I hate to kick you out…” your father joked, a low and tired chuckle under his words.
“It’s alright, I got some stuff to sort out anyway.”
They started making their way towards the door when light but fast footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.
Joel turned quickly, a smile on his lips and in his eyes when he saw you trying to catch your breath after sprinting down here.
“Leavin’ already?”
They both laughed heartily. As if Joel hadn’t been here almost three hours, most of which you spent upstairs. Your heart was beating far too fast for your liking, but there didn’t seem to be a way to stop it. Now that you were present again, in the room with him, you didn’t know what else to do.
“Your dad’s half asleep as it is, if I stay any longer I’ll send ‘im into hibernation,” Joel’s response made you giggle softly, although you withheld most of the laughter, because in all honestly, it wasn’t that funny, and you needed to learn to control yourself.
“He’ll be over next week, we’ll talk about gettin’ you into that job.”
You nodded, turning back to Joel as your dad opened the front door. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t hug him, could you? That’s too much… maybe just wave, or maybe-
He held his hand out… for you to shake it. A hand-shake. Yeah, sure, fine.
You shook it, but he pulled you in half way, tapping your back once and then letting go.
He just bro hugged you. This man just-
He turned and did the same to your dad, giving you one last glimpse as he stepped out the door. Your dad closed it behind him and you were almost clean out of words to say. That had to have been the strangest interaction you’ve had.
“I’m beat, love-bug. I’m gonna head to bed,” he slung an arm around your neck and kissed the top of your head before turning and going down the hall to the stairs. “Don’t be up too late.”
“I won’t, just got a few things to do.”
You waited approximately ten more seconds before running to the garage door, going as quickly and as quietly as you could through to your front yard. Joel was still on his porch when you got out there, but was about to go inside.
You ran out to the sidewalk in font of his house and called out to him, all the while still barefoot.
“Hey Miller,” you crossed your arms, watching him turn around and lean in one direction. “Did you just bro-hug me? Or did I imagine that?”
He stepped closer to the edge of the porch, leaning against one of the wooden beams closest to him.
You slowly walked up to him, tilting your head to side as you observed his stance. he looked rather good. Hair tousled, body adorning a black t-shirt and some dark jeans. He was a sight, even in the dark light of the neighborhood.
“I reckon I oughta’ try again?”
"Seems like the fair thing to do."
“You’re takin’ your sweet time, baby,” he irked, grabbing gently under your elbow and pulling you up onto to porch once you were close enough.
You smiled to him, and wrapped your arms round his neck, over his broad shoulders. He pulled you close, tucking a head into your shoulder. The anxiousness you felt before fell apart, the rapid beating of your heart slowed, because you were comfortable. You felt immense peace in his arms like you’ve never felt before.
He backed away too soon, but still kept you relatively close to him.
“Was that better?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
There was a moment of silence, of contemplation, but it wasn’t stiff, and it wasn’t awkward. It was just there, a nice and pleasant quiet, and you standing still with Joel Miller on his porch.
“You wanna come inside a while?”
Sarah wasn’t home, and wouldn’t be till morning. Your dad was probably passed out in bed by now, leaving the opportunity completely open. You had nothing to lose, no risk to be had.
“Yeah, I think I will.”
He didn’t let you go, he just walked you both backwards until he was able to reach the door, reaching with one hand to open it before stepping slightly to the side to allow you entrance first.
“Ever the gentlemen,” you smiled, walking inside before he followed you in.
“Gotta make up for all that nonsense earlier,” he closed the door, taking your hand and walking to the kitchen. He pulled out a stool at his counter and let your hand fall to your side as he made his way to the fridge.
He pulled out two beers and uncapped them with the tool hanging on the side of his fridge. You think you remember your dad buying it for his birthday one year. You can remember sitting in this exact seat many times before, actually. Never alone, though. Never just you and Joel, and nobody else near.
He slid you one beer an you smiled at him in thanks, taking a sip.
“Last time you had one of these, I didn’t know if you liked it or not,” he gestured to his own bottle, drinking some and setting it down on the counter.
“I don’t know, I think it’s growing on me.”
He looked straight to you, leaning both hands on the edge of the counter. You leaned forward, mimicking his more stern face of features before he said anything else.
“I didn’t wanna say so with your dad around, but you look awful pretty tonight,” he spoke the compliment smoothly, but he had to drop his head after he said it. Seemed that giving you compliments alone in the night was something of a struggle for him, since he was blushing still even when he looked back to you.
“I seem to be feelin’ a lot prettier as of late whenever I’m around you. Think you’re just good for my self esteem,” you paused, leaning back onto the stool to take a drink of your beer. “That, or it's just nice to be complimented by a handsome guy like yourself.”
He didn’t seem to believe you. His scoff was loud and heard immediately after your compliment returned to him.
“You think I’m handsome?”
He’d always thought he was average. Maybe even slightly below. As he got older, that notion grew until he felt that maybe he was beyond trying for a woman on behalf of his looks. Perhaps there were women from time to time that would agree to a date, but there were none since Sarah’s mom who actually stuck around, not until you… but you were different as far as relationships go, because technically, you shouldn’t even be considering one with him.
“Absolutely, I do. Why wouldn’t I?” You were curious, because he was clearly attractive. Maybe you’d spent too much time around the more traditionally preferred young men in dallas, but something about Joel intrigued you that never did with anyone else. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of what you two were doing, but before that, it was something else. He was rough and rugged, and good looking in a mature way that the boys your age couldn’t mimic if they tried. Those dark brown eyes with little crows feet at the edges every time he smiled were a dead give away to his age, but it was so appealing somehow.
“Don’t know. Guess I’m just old,” he spoke, trying to hide the insecurities that phrasing brought about. He was too old for you, he shouldn’t be sitting here with you you alone and calling you pretty, and yet…
“Maybe that’s a good thing. Too many boys my age are still very immature these days.” And it was very much true. Too young, too immature, and too stupid to see what’s in front of them and really appreciate it. Older men have a tendency to take care of the things they have, because they know that with time they can lose them.
“That so?”
“Mhm.”
“They don’t even realize what their missin’ out on, do they?”
You shook your head in reply. Nope. Not a single one of the younger guys you’ve dated has treated you with the care you know he could. He’s always treated you with care, before… why would that change now?
“They probably figure there’s a million girls linin’ up after me that they can take a shot at,” you raised your eyebrows and drank some more. Maybe it was just a thought of some past experiences, but this beer was tasting better and better to you.
“I pity them,” he said nonchalantly, without really thinking about it.
“Who, the girls? I mean, I kinda feel bad, but other times, I think we all know what we’re getting ourselves into n’ we just try to ignore the red flags.”
It was meant as a joke, but he was being genuinely serious.
“No, the guys. I pity ‘em.”
“Oh, do you?”
“I do,” he nodded, thinking of the right words to say. “They lost you, didn’t they? Biggest mistake of their lives and they didn’t even know. Pity ‘em just for that.”
You didn’t know what to say. You figured the wide smile you wore was doing a fine enough job, but he wasn’t looking like he had anything else to voice yet.
“You think I’m somethin’ special, Joel Miller?”
He set his bottle down on the counter and walked around it to stand right in front of your barstool. He took both your hands and pulled them to his chest, just holding them there and looking to you with the sweetest expression you’ve ever seen from him. He’s so different than what you remember in your earlier years. He used to be so stoic and serious. Sometimes even a little grumpy. Guess time changes things.
“I wouldn’t be gettin’ myself into sum’ this crazy if I thought anything else,” he mumbled it almost, but he definitely meant it. His words rang true in every aspect of the implications they made. This was crazy, it was very unlikely in the first place, but even still, it was happening. Neither of you backed down, neither of you said no.
“If it helps, I happen to think you’re pretty damn special, too.”
He didn’t respond, just leaned closer towards you, nudging his nose against yours, before letting your lips meet in a kiss. it washed rushed and hazy like the last time. It wasn’t forceful or fast or anything of that sort. It was gentle, and it was meaningful. All the years he’d known you, but never like this. You knew this attraction was new, but it was still real. You wondered how many women pined after him over the years, only for you to now gage his attention when clearly no one else did. The man’s been single since Sarah’s mom left, and otherwise, you didn’t know him to be much of a ‘dating around’ kinda guy. Standing here with him, now, you felt such excitement in knowing he’d pursue you, the off limits woman, over anyone else. It was a true victory, or at least you thought so, sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he kissed you softly, his thumbs going over the backs of your hands that still lingered in his.
When the kiss broke, you inhaled deeply, the scent of him so close to you, surrounding you. He was like a warm blanket you just pulled out of the dryer. He was comforting, and soft, and his skin was currently hot to the touch. You could only hope that you had something to do with that.
“Baby,” he breathed, hands letting go of yours and finding a new home at your waist. You left your hands on his chest, feeling his heart rate fluctuating. “Gotta know something before this goes any further…”
You hummed in response, still trying to even your breath intake. He backed away a few inches to be able to look you in the eyes correctly. He’d spent enough time with you in the past to know if you were telling the truth, and he was going to use it just this once to his advantage.
“What we’re doin’, you sure you’re okay with it?” He knew better than to jump into this without clarification. “Don’t want you feelin’ pressured if you’re not.”
“I want this,” you spoke softly, just loud enough that he could hear. “Promise.”
You had thought you’d been the instigator to this, if memory serves you correctly. Even still, you know now that whatever happens, he won’t take it somewhere you don’t want it to go. This show of good faith was something you could put trust in him over. He’s a good one, you always knew that.
And again his lips were on yours, differently this time. It was a bit more hasty and fervent like the first time, but there was still something different from then that you couldn’t quite decipher.
You absent-mindedly opened your legs and he instantly came between them, letting your bodies become flush with one another. His hands ran up and down your sides, every once and a while dipping to your hips and somewhere below on your thighs.
There was a heat between them that you didn’t realize was there until he came so close to touching it. He never actually did, though, and you were both endeared by and upset about it. He was the one making that heat spread, he can’t just leave it there… but he’s testing his limits, and you think it’s respectful that he is.
He doesn’t want to cross any lines… as if this entire entanglement has not already done that. This situation in every sense of the definition, has crossed the line. Him hugging you that tightly on his porch, him inviting you in after dark when it’s only you and him alone, having a beer with some very personal conversation, and now making out with you in his kitchen. They all crossed the line of what should happen between a man and his best friend’s daughter.
“Tell me to stop,” he mumbled against your mouth, almost as if reading your mind. His hand on your thigh drifted between your legs, just barely caressing the heated pool sitting there, waiting for him. It was still very reserved, and you had to buck against his hand for more friction, but at least it was something.
The taste of him somehow made it worse, the feeling growing inside you without an end in sight. The arousal was evident, but you weren’t sure he would be able to do anything about it, yet. You could tell it was weighing on his mind, what was okay for him to do, and what wasn’t. You would beg him if you had to, you just needed more.
He had an idea, one that could allow both of you to explore this dynamic easier, and one that could potentially keep him from overstepping like he was afraid to.
He removed his hands only for a minute, bringing yours up and over his shoulders before he settled his back down below your ass.
“Hold on,” he told you, lifting you from the seat and walking until he got to the living room. From there, he let the space guide him until the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. He sat almost abruptly, and when you relaxed your weight onto him, you felt the stirring between his legs as well. You moaned into his mouth at the mere size and feeling of it, beginning to slowly grind down onto him. He encouraged your movements, and used his hands to guide your hips as you went, back and forth, getting into a rhythm.
“That’s it, baby,” he praised, tearing himself away for a moment to expel his breath from his lungs at the new feeling. Your head fell against his, and suddenly it was the movement of your lower half taking you over.
He let his hands move over your body a bit more freely, now, but still careful not to make any harsh movements, or grab in places he felt he shouldn’t linger too long. He knew you wanted this, but something inside him questioned how comfortable you really felt… that was until you started doing the same, roaming his body with your delicate touch, making him feel like the most important man in the world. You could have sworn you marked the exact moment he snapped, rolling his hips upwards into yours shamelessly. It was so deliciously addicting, the feeling of his body pleasing yours, and vice versa. His rough and sturdy hands, though still gentle, ravished any part of you available to him.
The air between you was hot and thick, and you could swear that by breathing it in, you were drawing even more arousal into your body.
The motions kept going until there was a quickening of pace brought on by you both simultaneously. You couldn’t mark a distinction of when it increased, you just knew that the speed you were going wasn’t where you started. All you could think of was that your spend was fast approaching, and you wondered if his was, too.
“Gettin’ close,” you murmured, barely able to get the words out for the moans that slipped passed your lips. “M’gonna…”
He heard you, and understood. Truth be told, he’d started getting hard since that moment on the porch, so this was just nothing but sweet relief to him. He kept on, trying to meet you at your finish.
“Let go , baby.”
You had no qualms about being told twice when it came to him. You gave it up easily, the muscles in your body contracting when you felt the wash of utter ease through every inch of you. He tensed beneath you, but relaxed with a groan of relief right after, and you could feel his length twitch in his jeans.
You just dry-humped Joel Miller on his couch. Like a horny teenager. What the fuck.
The dawn of realization was cut short by his hand softly coercing the back of your neck, bring your lips back for him to claim as he did earlier. Soft, and gentle, no rush, no heat. Just that feeling between you both that started this mess.… and it was indeed a mess.
“You wanna stay over?”
-
Tags (open):
@justanothersadperson93 @moonchild-warrior @hopplessilse @brittmd115 @michilandcof @untamedheart81 @just-someone-broken @joelalorian @xybil @yvonneeeee
If i tagged you wrong, or you want to be taken off at any time, just lmk!!
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fairyhaos · 10 months
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✰ seventeen as boyfriends: jihoon edition
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event taglist (send ask to be added): @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @belladaises @wheeboo @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love @dandycharmer @sweet-like-caramel @hannyoontify @doesthismeannothingtoyou @fashionminghao
pairing: jihoon x gn!reader
genre: fluff, headcanon, mini scenario
word count: 536
warnings: none
notes: jihoon edn. for the 500 event
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woozi feels like a very “only bc it’s you” typa boyfriend
wanna go for a walk bc it’s a nice day? well, he should be working on this new idea that came to him last night but bc it’s you,,, alright fine let’s go
you bought him a cat ear beanie bc it reminded you of him so can he please please wear it even just for a little? he normally hates cutesy stuff but… you bought it for him so ofc he will
has blankets and comfy pillows on a couch in his studio because every week you’re insisting you’ll stay with him to keep him company while he works and you promise you won’t fall asleep but then end up dozing in the middle of the night anyway
he’s not complaining, though, because you spending time with him even like this shows you care a lot for him, so he’ll keep you as comfortable as possible while you’re there
also!!!! gets all shy after kissing your cheek or your forehead or holding your hand unexpectedly
when he pecked your cheek after he’d come home one time, you’d looked at him all adorably surprised and it had made him the most flustered ever bc wow you were so cute and you liked him?? 
he still can’t believe you’re dating him actually bc he thinks you're just so incredible
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“Jihoon.”
“Hm?”
“Jihoon, you’re not paying attention to me.”
“I am, baby, I am.”
“What was I saying, then?” you challenge, waving the nail polish brush in his face. “You better tell me in my exact words, or I’m painting the rest of your nails in that neon yellow I have.”
Jihoon sighs, but he’s smiling as he puts down his phone to look at you properly. “You said, ‘Jihoon you have the prettiest hands and it’s not fair because they’re even prettier than mine’.” He raises an eyebrow. “Am I right?”
“You are,” you say, whining as you go back to his hand again. “And you do. It’s not even fair, like, who allowed you to have such pretty hands?”
He tilts his head. “If you hate it so much, then why are you painting my nails? Didn’t you say that it’ll make them even prettier?”
“Yeah, well, it’s because you’re my boyfriend,” you chirp, startingly bright compared to your defeated demeanour just seconds ago. You release his middle finger, moving onto the fourth, holding his hand delicately as you try to angle it correctly. “I want only what’s best for you. You should thank me.”
He decides not to mention that you should thank him for letting you do this, simply smiling as you finish with one hand and make grabby hands for his other, to which he willingly obliges.
You’re fussing over his hand, talking about prepping and buffing and cleaning and he has no idea what any of this is but your hand is soft in his, and your eyes are sparkling as you explain what you’re going to do to his poor nails.
He can’t help but feel his heart swell with affection. “In which case,” he says, “thank you very much.”
You beam, and he swears he’s never felt happier.
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683 notes · View notes
gilverrwrites · 2 months
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Their Perfect Date HCs [Angel edition]
Rating: General
Human Edition | Monster Edition
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Please remember: There is strength in softness.
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Cas
Absolutely brings you flowers. 
Hear me out: fruit picking!
Something like strawberries
Spend the day outdoors in the sunny weather, chatting, walking, picking and comparing fruits. 
Maybe a picnic at the end where you can refuel, and Cas can bask in the sun. Enjoy people/nature watching together. 
Then you take him home and make your harvest into something; a pie, wine, jelly/jam.
Put him in a frilly apron and boop flour on his nose, he’s in love. 
Cas won’t partake in the consumption, but he’ll enjoy watching you, and earnestly listen to your review.
Gabriel 
Brings you chocolates/candy.
(Obviously, he has ideas, plans, and wants of his own, to a dangerous extent but) Gabe at his core just wants to impress you, don’t give him choices because he’s very much a ‘whatever you want’ kinda guy in those scenarios. His ideal date is whatever your ideal date is. 
What do you want for dinner? ‘Whatever you fancy sugar’, your wish: my command.’  Do you prefer the red outfit, or the black? ‘I think you look smokin’ in both, pick whatever you feel good in.’ Do you want pasta or pizza? ‘I want a pizza you. Do you want pasta or pizza?’
Plus, he loves simultaneously using indecisiveness to wind you up and to force you to make decisions for yourself, to voice your own wants and needs.  
Ultimately though, I think his ideal date would be something surprisingly simple. 
Like a coffee date.
Or hot/boozy hot/chocolates and pancakes at a dessert restaurant. 
Tell him about your proudest moments, your favourite everything, your biggest adventures, your fondest dreams, so he can soak you in. 
He’ll tell you about his own escapades, drops some big names, about his early days on earth, and so on. 
Somewhere you can spend hours chitchatting, sharing stories, and getting to know each other, while getting high on sugar and playing footsie under the table. 
Jack
Isn’t sure which is most appropriate or which you would like most, so he brings you all the gifts! Chocolate, flowers, soft toys, you name it! 
But then he gets nervous and thinks it’s too much, so he only gives you the flowers.
Until you’re halfway through your date, when things are just easy and relaxed. He confesses and gives you the other stuff at the end of your date. 
As for the date itself it would be something classic but fun; bowling, mini golf, roller skating. 
If it’s score-based, he won’t be competitive, but also will not let you win. 
If the venue does food, and you’re struggling to pick he’ll order your second choice so the two of you can split and share.
Will find any excuse to try and hold your hand throughout. 
Lucifer 
Does not bring a gift. Come on, he’s all the gift you need. 
Lucifer is not easy to take on a date. (He’s not easy in any regard really.) Especially when you take into account his distaste for all things human.
If he’s earnestly asked you on a date/agreed to a date, then the only salvageable factor is you. No pressure.   
And it's not like he can just fly you away to another galaxy or something, cause you know, human bodies don’t tend to do well in the vacuum of space. 
Plus, he’s so contraire you could spend hours listing ideas and he would bat down every single one. (Secretly loving every moment because he gets to spend time with you, making you laugh as he comes up with more and more ridiculous reasons to reject your ideas). 
Really though, just take him with you on your daily routine, or even like, your ideal day. Let him bitch about all the humans in the grocery store, let him try your favourite foods, him laugh at the kid who dropped their ice cream, and let him watch you geek out at the book/video/hobby store without embarrassment. Just let him experience your true self, while letting him be his true self. 
No policing him, just pure unadulterated freedom with the person he loves.    
Michael 
Brings you chocolates, but not like fancy ones. Adam advised that gifts were customary in human dating culture, but didn’t specify which kind, so he got you a selection of candy bars, the same kind that Adam seems to enjoy. 
Something outdoorsy and active but with a view; Hiking, rock climbing, or even just a long walk on the beach. 
Something where you can find a nice place to settle and watch the clouds and/or stars together. 
If stargazing, he will teach you about the different constellations, their creation, and their stories. 
Will be absolutely enamoured if you already know some of it and are able to have a back-and-forth conversation. 
Adam also tried to teach him some other dating tricks, like fake stretching to put his arm around you, but that seems redundant. If he wants to put his arm around you, he will simply do so. 
Short circuits a little when you lean in closer and rest your head on his chest/shoulder. 
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a/n: a little festive mat fic! written fairly quickly and minimally edited, but i wanted to get something out for the holiday! not too much more to say except i hope you guys all have a wonderful holiday and i’ll be quiet for the rest of the year, writing and stockpiling fics lol
word count: 4.8k
tw: a little innuendo, nothing crazy
summary: after spending the day hanging out with the team, you have some news for mat
“The snow was a nice touch,” you grin at Holly Horvat. A light dusting of snow is falling outside, the grass in the Horvats’ backyard already white.
Holly laughs, “oh, you know me. I have a connect to make sure even the weather is perfect for our events.” She pours M&Ms into a few small ramekins that are going to be placed around the kitchen island and dining room table where the kids will be decorating gingerbread houses.
The house is bustling with people and noise and you can’t help but love it. You miss having huge family gatherings, ever since your parents moved off Long Island and down south. The rest of your family is scattered to the winds, so it’s nice to be folded into the big team family get togethers. Joining a group of women who love any excuse to throw a party has been one of the biggest benefits from your relationship with Mat.
Half a dozen kids run past you - you spot the Bailey boys and Brock’s two oldest kids in the group as they blur by - holding jackets and their sneakers. “Mini sticks is getting moved outside,” Noah grins as he breezes past you, swiping a handful of M&Ms from the little bowl.
“Stay warm,” you tease, watching him follow the kids out the back door. A parade of adult men follow him - Wahlly, Casey, Josh, Brock, and finally Mat, who stops to give your waist a little squeeze.
“Kiss for luck?” He asks, puckering his lips at you in a dramatic duck face. You giggle and plant one on him, pulling back before he can slip his tongue past your lips.
Mat leans slightly against you, his face a little flushed already from the twenty minutes of mini sticks that’s been going on in the basement. “What do you need luck for?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.
“Jacky’s got a wicked wrister,” Mat grins, referring to Casey’s oldest, “and no idea how to aim. Do you know how many pucks to the head I’ve dodged?”
A snort of laughter makes Mat’s lips turn down in a frown. “Oh, I guess you just don’t care about my health,” he sighs dramatically, pulling away from your side. “It’s fine. I’ll take a slap shot to the head and then you’ll see how much you miss my charming personality.”
“Dramatics,” you murmur affectionately, hooking your fingers in his belt loops. “He’s five and you guys use a Nerf ball. I think you’ll live.”
“Maaaat!” Jack comes barreling through the room and crashes into your fiancé’s legs. “C’mon! Everybody’s outside.” The little boy looks adorable in his puffer coat, a little beanie pulled haphazardly over his blonde hair. He wrinkles his face up at Mat in an impatient frown and you can’t help but egg him on.
“Yeah, Mat,” you prod him in the side, looking innocent, “everyone’s outside already.”
He rolls his eyes at you, but grins down at Jack and swoops him into his arms, making Jack shriek with laughter. You prop your chin in the palm of your hand and watch Mat tickle Jack’s belly while he carries him outside. Jack’s little sneakered feet are kicking in the air, narrowly avoiding Mat’s head.
“He’s really good with the kids,” Kristy Cizikas comments, coming into the kitchen with baby Cole propped on her hip.
You scrunch up your face at Cole to make him laugh, “it’s because he’s a big kid himself, right Coley? Huh? Is Matty a big kid?” You giggle at your own baby talk and warmth blooms in your chest when you’re rewarded with a gummy baby smile. “Ooh, you make cute babies,” you tell Kristy.
She shakes her head affectionately, “I swear, they’re all Casey. It’s like my genes didn’t even try.”
“Hey, in like six months you and Mat can start catching up to the rest of us,” Sydney Martin teases, easily passing Alice to you when you reach out for the one-year-old. Alice immediately grabs a chunk of your hair and you wince, untangling chubby fingers from the strands.
You hum noncommittally as you work. “We’ll see what happens,” you shrug. “Might be nice to just be the two of us for a bit.”
“But don’t you want that all the time?” Syd laughs, gesturing to you now that Alice’s fingers are hooked in your mouth. You pretend to nibble on them, making her shriek with laughter. She finishes helping Holly set out the candy, knowing the rest of the kids will start wandering their way into the kitchen.
“One day, definitely,” you nod, settling Alice more securely on your lap, one arm looped around her stomach. The little girl slaps her palms happily on the countertop and you giggle, resting your chin on her head. “No rush though.”
As you settle at the table with the kids, the other guys trail in and out of the backyard, the noise of mini sticks floating inside.
You get to be in charge of Alice during decorating, sitting in between Syd with Winnie and Ashlee with Luca while the kids decorate their pre-made houses. You squirt a line of frosting onto the roof and Alice uses her little pincer grip to place M&Ms on the line. “Oh, good job,” you tell her in a bright, encouraging voice. She rewards you with a half melted piece of candy smushed against your cheek.
“Mommy,” Winnie’s little voice pipes up, “Ali’s makin’ a mess.”
“So are you, Win,” Sydney laughs, wiping up a smudge of frosting off of Winnie’s sweater. “Everyone is going to make a little bit of a mess and that’s okay.”
From your spot at the island, you can see right out the back door and you watch the mini sticks tournament that’s happening. Kids versus adults and honestly, it looks like the adults are having a rough go of it. Mat’s on the ground, a pile of children fighting him. Whally has Cal’s oldest on his shoulders and you honestly wonder how that ended up happening. Sticks have been discarded and the Nerf pucks are strewn around. You watch Casey pull Jack out of the pile on top of Mat, his little arms and legs kicking. From the ground, Mat jokingly sticks his tongue out at Jack and you shake your head. Of course he has beef with a five-year-old.
Bo and Gunnar join the fun outside and Mat slaps the little boy’s hand in a high-five. Your stomach swoops a little. It’s always such a turn-on when Mat interacts with kids, but it’s a little different now.
Alice pats your hand and grumbles a little. “Whoops, sorry, Al,” you squeeze more frosting onto the house for her to decorate.
“Distracted?” Ashlee asks, pulling Luca’s frosting covered hand away from his hair. She wipes his fingers off with a napkin and gives him a pretzel to stick onto his little house. She pops another pretzel into her own mouth.
You hum. “Just making sure he’s not being totally steamrolled by a pack of kids,” you laugh lightly. While Alice works on the roof of her house, you put a few Starburts in place to act as a little pathway going to the door.
In the backyard, Mat stands up, Mack and Wyatt Bailey hanging from each arm. He shakes them gently and you can see both boys’ heads fall back with wild laughter. Meg looks up from where she’s helping Blake with a pattern of Smarties on her roof. “Honestly, if he wasn’t busy with, you know, his actual job,” she laughs, “I’d hire him as a babysitter. The kids loved when he lived with us.”
The entire kitchen of women laugh when the back door slides open and Mat steps back inside, shaking melted snow from his short hair. He stops and looks up, scanning the room full of laughing women. “What?” He asks, eyebrows drawn together. “I interrupt something? Want me to leave so you ladies can keep talking about me?” He laughs brightly, flashing his teeth.
“You can stay,” you offer generously, tilting your head up as he passes for a kiss. Mat’s hand is freezing when it cups your jaw and you flinch a little. He mumbles a ‘sorry’ against your lips before kissing them. When he pulls away, to a soundtrack of ‘awww’s from the women and a joking ‘get a room’ from Sydney, you continue, “but you have to take orders from toddlers, if you do.”
“Like I’m not already doing that,” he laughs, swiping a thumb over your cheekbone and sucking it into his mouth. “Frosting,” he explains, smirking. Your cheeks flush.
Winnie stands up on her chair and leans into you, poking at your cheek with her fingers. “Red, I wanna be red!” She bounces a little and looks over at Mat who scrunches up his whole face at her and tickles her sides, making her shriek with laughter and flop back into Sydney’s arms.
Sydney laughs and tickles Winnie’s side, “girlfriend, you’re collecting boyfriends around here like they’re Pokémon cards.”
Satisfied by the chaos he caused, Mat backs into the hallway, explaining, “I was sent to get more jackets and gloves and sh-stuff,” he course-corrects before letting the curse slip. “It’s freezing out there.”
He’s gone, rummaging through the massive hall closet, before reappearing wearing his own coat and holding an armful of the other guys’ outerwear.
“Who’s winning?” Holly teases, while you all watch Mat struggle to pull a beanie on without dropping anything. He fails spectacularly and gives up when he realizes that everything’s slowly falling to the floor.
Mat scoffs. “The kids, obviously. They’re unhinged,” he grins widely and you can tell he’s having a blast. There’s a chorus of his name being shouted from outside and Mat scoops up the dropped outerwear before dashing off to rejoin the fun.
Sydney leans in and nudges your side gently. “He’s going to be a great dad,” she whispers, smiling knowingly.
You chew at the inside of your cheek and manage a barely convincing smile. “One day, definitely,” you reply, holding an Oreo for Alice to chew at.
She shoots you a little side eyed look and you studiously ignore her, focusing on telling Reese Cizikas how great her house looks. Things start to get messy - well, messier - after a while and the kids get antsy until they’re turned loose from the table to run off around the house. While you clean up the candy, the guys come back inside with the older kids and you can’t help but laugh at how the three youngest men, including your fiancé, have kids hanging off of them.
“If you kids let go of the guys,” Holly says warmly, “I’ll pass around some hot chocolate.”
It’s a mad scramble for the kids to abandon Mat, Noah, and Oliver - and they actually look mildly offended when the kids just toss their jackets back at them in their dash for hot chocolate. You take some of the gear from Mat and lean up on your toes to kiss his cheek, “don’t look so sad, you can have another play date with your friends soon.”
“Menace,” Mat grins, reaching around to pinch at your ass.
“I’ll text Kristy,” you giggle, continuing the joke, “Jack can come over and beat you at mini sticks again.”
“I’m gonna toss your phone into the ocean,” Mat deadpans.
You lower your voice and lean closer to him to whisper, “how will I send all those pictures you like?”
“You can keep the phone,” Mat replies immediately and you laugh, tugging at the open edges of his jacket. He pulls you close and you wrap one arm around his waist, his body warm even though his hands and face are cold. You bury your face in his chest and stifle a yawn. Mat’s hand is warming your back where he rubs it up and down your spine. “Still feeling gross after that bug?”
“Not gross,” you tilt your head to look up at him, still cuddled against his chest, “just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.”
“We can head home, if you want,” Mat offers, but you shake your head again. You like it when the whole group is together and you want to keep enjoying the time with your friends.
You pull back slightly from Mat’s arms, his hands still resting on your back. “I just need a little bit of sugar and I’ll be good to go,” you smile at him. His eyes twinkle before he leans down and plants a smacking, dramatic kiss on your lips.
“Good to go?” He teases when he pulls back.
“Not that kind of sugar,” you giggle, delighted by him always.
“You guys are disgustingly cute,” Ashlee says, breaking into the Mat Barzal bubble that you’ve been enveloped in for the last few minutes. You startle a little and some of the other wives laugh.
“Oh god, she forgot we’re even here,” Sydney shakes her head, an exaggerated frown on her lips.
Meg smirks, “thank god we interrupted them before it went too far.”
Your cheeks are warm from the teasing and Mat just turns on the charm, grinning widely at his teammates’ wives. “It’s all part of the Barzal charm,” he wiggles his eyebrows.
“What charm?” Bo chirps, coming into the kitchen with Tulsa on his hip. “All you’re good at is league mandated iPad time.”
“Don’t forget all the time he spends sitting on his ass on the ice,” Noah grins wickedly.
“Tell us,” Casey asks you, “is it part of his charm when he messes up common sayings?”
You giggle, sucking your lips into your mouth when Mat glares down at you.
“You guys suck,” Mat flips them off, immediately apologizing when he realizes some of the kids are still in the room. “Sorry, Holly, Meg.”
They waive off his apologies, sending him into the den with a tray of snacks for the kids. They’re watching a movie, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer if the familiar music is to be believed, and you know half the dads are also in the den, napping on the couches. Mat disappears for a while too and you leave him to the movie, knowing he’s exhausted. You get to hang out with the girls for a few more hours, interspersed with hugs and drawings from Gunnar and Winnie, before the party starts to break up.
Everyone’s gone slowly and then all at once, and you and Mat are walking the three blocks towards your house. He bumps your hip with his as you walk, his fingers laced with yours. “You coming to the game tomorrow?” He asks, getting a sense of what the week ahead will look like.
“Mhm,” you hum, “I’m going to go with Syd, so I’m not sure if I’ll end up staying the whole game. So make sure you do all the good stuff in the first.”
Mat bumps your hip again and you laugh, the sound echoing in the cold air. “I save all my best stuff for you,” he retorts, unlocking the front door and letting you step inside before him. He winks at you, his entire face scrunching up in his terrible attempt.
You scoff at him and flip the switches to turn on the Christmas lights, bathing the whole house in the warm glow of multi-colored string lights. You sigh happily, loving the over the top decorations you’d insisted on and the way the entire house smells like pine and cinnamon from diffusers and candles left open but unlit. Mat crowds your space and kisses the back of your neck.
“Couch time?” He mumbles against your skin.
“Couch time,” you agree, muffling another yawn.
You race to the bedroom, changing out of your clothes as quick as possible to get into comfy sweats and sweatshirts. Mat tosses a pillow at your face to distract you, but you swat it out of the air, nearly getting your foot stuck in the leg of your sweats.
“You like when I’m a weighted blanket,” Mat says, voice muffled by the sweatshirt he’s pulling over his head. “Why are you racing me to be on top?”
You don’t waste time pulling on your sweatshirt in the room and instead dart back out to the hallway and skip down the stairs, flopping onto the couch in just your sweats, completely topless. Mat’s hot on your heels and grumbles when he sees you yanking the fabric over your head. Smugly, you reply, “I don’t wanna be squished today. I want to use you as a body pillow.”
He submits to his fate and flops down onto the couch, oversized enough that the two of you could lay side by side and be comfortable, and opens his arms for you to crawl onto his chest. The both of you love the soft pressure of the other person laying on top of them so you’ve had to come up with a contest over the course of your relationship - first person on the couch gets to be on top. More often than not, you end up sprawled over Mat since it’s an easy way to transition into couch sex.
Now, you’re so tired you definitely will be keeping all of your clothes on. But you hum happily when you settle on top of him, your knees tucked nicely against either side of his hips, straddling his lap. When you curl up against his chest, your lower back stretches pleasantly and you wiggle a little, wrapping your arms around his torso and tucking your head under his chin. Mat’s arms wrap around you, one hand covering the back of your head so his fingertips can stroke against the shell of your ear.
He pulls the decorative blanket off the back of the couch with his other hand and arranges it over your bodies, making sure his feet stick out on the end so he doesn’t overheat. “You good?” He asks, his jaw bumping against the top of your head when he speaks. You nod against him and close your eyes, settling into his warmth. Mat turns on the TV, flipping it to ESPN before letting his hand rest low on the curve of your back, fingers grazing the top of your ass.
Mat’s heart beats steadily under your cheek and his hand is warm where it rests on your head. Couch time is exactly what you needed today. Your eyelids flutter shut every so often and you must fall asleep for a little nap because the next thing you know, it’s darker outside and Mat is running his thumb over your cheekbone.
“Hey,” he whispers and you lift your head to look at him blearily, momentarily confused.
“Hi,” you mumble sleepily, brushing your nose against his chin. “What time’s it?”
“Just after 4:30,” he replies and now the TV’s playing a rerun of The Office. He chuckles at a joke and rubs his fingertips against your scalp in a little massage. “You’ve been out for like forty-five minutes and I would’ve let you sleep, but I’m starving.”
Your heart skips a beat and you’re fully awake now. “Oh, same,” you say casually, rolling off of Mat and tucking yourself against his side. “I actually would love a piece of that gingerbread house that I ordered.”
“Gingerbread house?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “When’d you get that?”
“It was delivered the other day,” you explain. “I wanted something cute for our first engaged Christmas.”
Mat sits up, taking you with him and you wiggle around so you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing him. “I totally forgot to show it to you,” you shrug, proud of yourself for being so normal. “But why don’t you go take a look and bring me back a piece?”
“Yeah, okay,” Mat shrugs, scratching your scalp once before getting up. “Dessert before dinner usually means eating you out, but gingerbread is cool too.”
He says it so casually that you don’t really process what he says until he’s already in the kitchen. You bounce up on your knees to look at him over the back of the couch, yelping his name when it finally sinks in. He’s laughing as he pulls the new box down from where it’s been sitting on top of the fridge. “Took you long enough,” he laughs, popping the top of the white cardboard. “That nap really must’ve taken it out of you.”
You scowl at him but don’t reply, anxiously waiting to see his reaction to the gingerbread house. He pulls it out of the box and his lips quirk up in a little smile. “It’s cute,” he says, looking at the house, professionally decorated. “Way better than the ones the kids made today.”
A laugh works its way out of your mouth as he studies it, taking in the details. “Huh,” he mutters, more to himself than anything else, “three people. Must’ve read your order wrong, Squeaks.”
“Oh?” You breathe. “There were supposed to be me and you…” You trail off.
“Yeah, they’re here,” Mat reads the little names iced onto the gingerbread people. “There’s you and Mat and…” he falters, squinting at the third figure, bringing it closer to his face, “Baby B?”
He looks over at you, forehead creased and eyebrows drawn together over his nose. “Baby B?” He repeats the question and you smile carefully at him, hand sliding across the back of the couch so your fingertips rest on your stomach.
“Baby B,” you confirm shakily. Tears well at your lower lash line and you watch Mat for his reaction.
He blinks at you, eyes darting between your face, your stomach, and the gingerbread figure held in his hand. “Wait? Seriously?” He sounds dazed and you can’t blame him. You were freaked out when you took the test a week and a half ago. It’s been the hardest secret you’ve ever had to keep. “You’re…there’s a baby?” His eyes are wide and his jaw hangs open a little.
You nod. “It’s, um, been hanging out for like six-ish, seven weeks,” you whisper, flattening your hand over your stomach. Mat’s eyes track your movement and he exhales a shaky breath.
Mat breathes your name and crosses the room in a few large strides. He cups your cheeks in his hands and studies your face, wiping at the tears that drip from your eyes. “Hey, c’mon, why’re you crying?” He asks, panic edging his tone.
“I know it’s earlier than we planned,” you shrug, “I’m going to be insanely pregnant at the wedding. We won’t get to be, like, newlyweds at all and the honeymoon’s going to have to change or be cancelled altogether.” You ramble on, all of your stress releasing in run-on sentences. You already love the baby, but getting pregnant before the wedding definitely wasn’t the plan.
Mat chuckles a little and you realize it sounds a little watery, like he’s trying to hold back his own emotion. “We’ll figure it out,” he says gently, squatting down so he’s closer to your eye level. “I’m gonna be a dad?”
“Yeah,” you confirm again. “Are you freaking out? Because I’m freaking out.”
“I’m definitely freaking out,” Mat confirms on a hysterical little laugh. His fingers tremble a little against your cheeks. “But it’s a good thing, right? Like, we’re gonna make the coolest babies.”
You nod. “They’re going to have amazing hair,” you giggle wetly.
Mat leans forward to kiss you softly, tasting the tears on your lips. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, quietly breathing with you. “That, uh, wasn’t a stomach bug last week, was it?”
“No,” you shake your head against his. “I’ve had some pretty aggressive mid-morning sickness this past week.”
“How the hell did I miss that?” He asks and it’s mostly rhetorical because Mat is not the most observant of men on a good day, let alone during a week and a half period where they’re playing a game every other day.
You lean back and tap at your stomach with your fingers, “baby’s already pretty good about not inconveniencing you. It was bad after you’d already left for practice.”
“I kind of can’t believe our baby’s in there,” Mat says, looking down at your stomach. His hands fall to the back of the couch and his fingers twitch, like he wants to reach out and touch you, but he doesn’t.
“Me either,” you admit. “And I’ve had a week to get used to the idea.”
“Shit, Squeaks,” he shakes his head again, a little smile playing on his lips, “a baby. We’re gonna be in charge of a real baby.”
Your answering laugh is a little hysterical. You’re obviously not the first of your friends to have a baby, but it feels insane that you’re here, especially before the wedding. Your parents are going to be so annoyed. “Good thing we have friends who know what they’re doing,” you murmur, covering Mat’s hands with yours and lacing your fingers together. You look at your joined fingers and your heart lurches in your chest. Quietly, you ask him, “we’re going to be good at this, right?”
“Hell if I know,” Mat admits. You frown at him - that was less than reassuring, but at least he’s honest. He jolts a little, his eyebrows lifting into his hairline, and you cock your head at him in a silent question. “I realized,” he says, a little sheepishly, “that I never said I was happy about this, but I am. I’m excited, scared as shit, but excited.”
“Me too,” you let loose a relieved laugh. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear Mat say he was happy about the baby. It’s been a weight on your shoulders ever since that positive pink line appeared on the test. “Um, there is one thing you could do for me right now though.”
Mat perks up and nods, “yeah, whatever you need, babe. You’re going to be so sick of me and how attentive I’ll be.”
You have no doubt about that, but for now - “can you get me a piece of that gingerbread? I’ve been craving it since the stupid thing was delivered yesterday.”
Mat laughs and stands up to retrieve the cookie, much to your delight. It’s been taunting you for more than twenty-four hours now and you nibble at the gingerbread version of yourself happily. Mat flops down onto the couch next to you and you tuck yourself up against his side. His hand absently runs up and down your arm, his eyes focused in the direction of the TV, but not actually paying attention.
You’re quiet at his side, knowing he needs to process the news. You were lucky in that you were alone when you found out so you could freak out without Mat seeing just how scared you were. Now that it’s been a week of knowing and Mat’s reaction wasn’t a total meltdown, you can relax a little, even start to get excited about having a little summer baby. Mat will get to spend time with you and the baby since you’re due in late August, by your admittedly shaky math.
Subconsciously, Mat’s hand wanders down your side, splaying on your waist, fingers stretching to cover part of your stomach. He rubs his thumb against your ribs and a little huff of disbelief leaves his throat. “Too bad you’re not due before the wedding,” he says, looking down at you with a little smile, “she could’ve been in the wedding, like Gracie at Bearsy’s wedding.”
Your throat clogs with emotion, thinking of your baby being at the wedding, and you bury your face in Mat’s side so he can’t see how tears well up in your eyes again. “You can’t say cute shit like that to me right now,” you mumble, “my hormones are in overdrive.”
Mat pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling his thighs. He kisses the corner of your mouth and you sigh, resting your arms on his shoulders. “Let me know when I can start saying cute shit,” his grin is shit-eating, “because I just realized that there’s a chance we could put the baby in the Cup this summer.”
“Gotta win it first,” you counter, teasing him. He rolls his eyes and lets his hands drift over your stomach, broad palms covering the expanse of the still flat area.
“Got a new motivation now,” Mat replies and even though he still looks stunned, you can see how excited he’s getting about the baby.
You look down at where his hands cover your stomach and it’s all too easy to picture his hands holding a newborn baby with his eyes and your nose, a little shock of Mat’s dark hair on its head.
You can’t wait.
402 notes · View notes
morbific-or-felicific · 10 months
Text
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-ADRONITIS Featuring Childe
Meaning: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house
Word Count: 2.3k~
Description: Childe is helping you train and decides to show off his foul legacy form only to decide to fuck you
Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach
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You were exhausted. You had been hiking to the top of what was probably a mountain, and somehow, you had the eleventh most powerful member of the Fatui walking alongside you. You still weren’t sure how you had been afforded the opportunity to speak with Childe, but my god were you glad you got to. For the past month or so, you had been spending the majority of your free time training with Childe.
Frankly, you had no idea how you had managed to swing that, but you were damn grateful that you had. It was all thanks to a seemingly innocuous comment you had made about hoping to one day be as strong as him the first time you two had spoken. You honestly still weren’t sure why he had decided to speak to you of all people. There would be no reason for him to have noticed you…right?
But unbeknownst to you, Childe had been watching you for quite some time before he had even decided to speak to you. You had caught his eye with your ability to best practically any recruit that you sparred against and the fact that any missions you were a part of were always successful. He was initially just fascinated by how someone who looked as weak as you did was able to beat all of the tall, muscly boys and girls of the Fatui. However, over time, he found himself getting excited to catch glimpses of you, whether you were sparring or not, so when he finally decided he wanted to speak to you and you mentioned wanting to become as strong as him, he jumped at the chance to offer you his penis guidance.
“Are we almost there?”
At the moment, Childe had decided to help you with your endurance training and took you to what he called a “small hill”, but realistically, it felt like a mountain.
Childe gave you a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, comrade. We’re almost at the top.”
You felt a little wave of relief flow through you.
Your hike continued with the two of you in comfortable silence until, finally, you reached the top of the ‘hill’. You flopped down onto the grass. You could see why he called it a hill, but by the sheer size of it, you thought that it could be considered a mountain. Childe stood by you as you caught your breath and recovered.
“Alright, are you ready to spar?”
Your stomach dropped. He wanted to spar? With you? You were going to die.
Childe chuckled at the apparent fear on your face.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”
You considered it for a moment. It would be interesting to fight him. It would probably help you improve too. You could also see how well you could stand up to his skill.
“…Okay.”
Childe grinned before offering you his hand and pulling you up. Childe pulled two practice swords out of god knows where and handed you one. You both got into a fighting stance.
“Are you ready?”
“I guess.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you.”
He winked at you, and you lunged forward at him. He easily parried your attack, and you two began your dance.
You were surprised that you were actually managing to hold your own a good ways into the fight, and you thought you might last a while longer, until Childe decided to take it up a notch and start using his delusion. Fuck.
You had a vision yourself, so it wasn’t like the fight was imbalanced in that way, but adding a delusion? That was just unfair.
The fight continued, and while you had taken a few hits, you were still going. Childe was thoroughly enjoying himself, and while he was holding back his true strength, he was still curious to see how you would react if he unleashed his full power on you. He wanted to see you try and fight against his overwhelming power, when realistically, there was no way you could put up any meaningful fight. He also kind of just wanted to show off for you, but that’s not important.
“Why don’t I show you what I’m truly capable of, comrade!”
You were somehow convinced that you might actually have a chance of beating the harbinger before he had said that. Then, all of a sudden, he started rising from the ground in a spiral of water, and in a flash, he was covered in new armour, and he had grown much, much taller. You had heard rumours of this transformation before. It was called “foul legacy”, was it not? You had heard that it made him grow all the way to 9’6, and you would be lying if you said you hadn’t heard girls speculating on uh, what else grew.
Of course, facing him like this now, the most prominent thoughts in your head were “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck I’m so fucking dead.”
Childe let off a few attacks, and you were dodging them the best you could. Of course, you were too terrified to realize that he was purposefully attacking in predictable ways and leaving himself open for attacks, should you develop the bravery.
He loved this. The rush of fighting and the gratification of fighting someone that he knew he could crush in an instant. That isn’t to say you weren’t strong, of course, you had exceeded Childe’s expectations, but he was just so much stronger. He was starting to get a little worked up, watching the way your body was moving. All of the adrenaline and endorphins rushing through his body were making you look even better than usual. Besides, you definitely didn’t look bad in the little shorts and t-shirt you had worn for the hike.
Finally, after ten or so minutes of dodging various attacks of his, you decided to strike back at him. You swung your sword at his chest, but before it could meet its mark, your blade stopped mid air. You looked for what had stopped your swing, and you saw Childe’s massive, armoured, clawed hand holding your sword. Within the same moment, you felt him yank on your sword, causing you to slam into his body, your head barely reaching his stomach. He reached an arm down around your shoulders to keep you there. Childe felt his breath grow heavier as he pressed you against himself.
“You’ve fought admirably. I’ve enjoyed this fight. Why don’t I repay you?”
You hadn’t realized how his voice had changed, and it was making you feel a certain way… no, no you need to focus. You struggled fruitlessly in his grip.
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that I want to make you feel good, comrade.”
There’s no way he meant…no, not right now. It wasn’t possible.
“Come now, I’ll do all the work. Just let me fuck you.”
You turned bright red. Well, bright redder.
“Uh, I mean if you wanted to maybe do something tonight, we could uh… maybe do something, if you actually want to…”
“Not later. Now.”
“But…”
“Do you not want to?”
“No, I do…I definitely do… I just… it won’t work unless you change back first, right?”
“I’ll make it work.”
You could hear the smile in his voice. He loosened his grip on your shoulders, but before he could do anything else, you shot backwards instinctively. Childe immediately got back into a fighting stance. Well, it didn’t look like the fight was over yet. He attacked, and this time, you barely made it out unscathed. Now that he knew you wanted him as much as he wanted you, Childe was determined to get you in his arms and on his cock.
After another attack from Childe and a few failed parries, you somehow managed to trip over your own feet and fall backwards, hitting the ground hard and knocking the wind out of yourself. Childe chucked at your misstep and took the opportunity to pick you up, pull off your shorts and underwear and hold you up against his chest with one of his arms, making you wrap your legs around him. Childe pulled off one of his gloves before tossing it to the ground and pushing two of his big fingers into your mouth. You were already so worked up just from how much bigger than you Childe was, and feeling his big fingers in your mouth only added to that. He pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth until he decided he was ready to reach down and push them inside of you. His fingers felt so big. You were terrified of how big his cock was going to be. He kept fucking you, eventually adding another two fingers, doing his best to prep you. Finally, when he thought you were ready enough, he undid his belt, letting it drop to the grass before undoing his pants and pulling out his cock. You could feel his cock hit against your back, and a wave of fear flowed through you, but you were far too committed to whatever was going to happen next to back out now.You blushed, looking up at him, and then you realized that he still had his mask on. Wanting to see his face, you reached up to try to move it. Your attempt was fruitless. Childe laughed before pulling off his mask for you.
He lifted you up, hands firmly on your waist, and that’s when you saw his cock. Your eyes popped out of your head. It looked like it was almost as big as your arm. There was no way that was going to fit in you. Childe lined himself up with you so he could start bringing you down onto his monstrous cock. Childe pulling you down mixed with simple gravity let him push into you without much resistance from you writhing around. You yelped at the pain. It felt like he was going to rip you in two if he went in any farther, but of course, that didn’t stop him. Childe was slowly pushing inside of you as you whined about how it was too big and how you couldn’t take it, tears streaming down your face. But Childe just shushed you and stroked his thumb along your hip, telling you that you can handle it.
Eventually, you were as full as you could get, despite Childe attempting to fit more of himself inside of you. After all, you only had more than half of him buried in you.
As much as it hurt to have something so big inside of you, you had never felt so full in your life. It just felt so good.
Childe waited until you had adjusted the best you could to the size of his cock before he started bouncing you on it, doing his best to not push too far with each thrust. Your mind was blank. The only thing you could think about was how fucking good it felt to have this massive man fucking you like you were a toy.
You could hear Childe moaning at how good you felt around him, and it was music to your ears. His voice was so deep now that it gave you butterflies whenever he spoke.
“How does it feel, comrade? Do you feel good? Am I making you feel good?”
You couldn’t formulate a response. You just let out a moan and a little squeak when he brought you down too hard.
“Have you gone dumb on my cock already? That’s too bad. I thought you would be able to endure it better, but I suppose this is really what you’re good at hmm? Being a toy for me?”
You weren’t paying any attention to whatever he was saying because you were so close to cumming around Childe’s massive cock. Fuck, it just feels so good.
With a little shout, you came and were seeing stars. Feeling you spasm around his cock was all Childe needed to cum along with you. He filled you up with his cum, and it was dripping out of you, even with his cock still inside of you. You were out of breath and were waiting for Childe to lift you off of his cock when you realized something. Was he still hard? You looked up at him, eyes wide.
“I’m not done yet. I have to see how much I can really fill you up.”
And with that, he was fucking you again, just as hard and just as fast. He was gripping your sides so tightly that you were convinced that his still-gloved hand had managed to draw blood, but you didn’t care enough to stop him and make him take it off.
Before too long, you were cumming around him once again. Your vision flashed white, and everything blurred together for a moment as the euphoria rushed through your body. Childe smiled as he kept bouncing you on his cock, not giving you a moment to rest.
It went on like that for almost another hour. You were barely conscious when Childe finally lifted you off of his cock and set you down on the grass. He transformed back to normal before watching for a moment as his cum flowed out of you onto the grass. He knelt next to you and pressed on your lower stomach, making even more cum run out of you. After a minute or two, he wiped the cum and little bit of blood off of you and slipped your shorts back onto your limp body. He lifted you up in his arms and gave you a little kiss on your lips before starting the hike back to his home at the Fatui compound.
As far as he was concerned, now you were his, and he was going to treat you as well as he possibly could.
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Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez
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morbific-or-felicific.
752 notes · View notes
beskarandblasters · 3 months
Text
“Din”scord Kitten
Discord Kitten!Din Djarin x F!Reader
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Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: I don’t fucking know anymore okay 😭 The Discord Kitten!Din edit is by @pedgito!! Shout out to my boyfriend for taking a mirror selfie in the Mando helmet for this 💀
Summary: When bounty hunting doesn’t work out anymore Din has to turn to alternative methods to support himself.
Word count: 3.8k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, this is a crack fic lmao, Discord/Venmo/Dr. Pepper existing in Star Wars, bad sexting, dick pics, masturbating, bad Star Wars puns, sex work, cummies needs its own warning 😭, pet names (cyar’ika), oral sex (M receiving), cum eating, no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
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“I’m sorry, Mando. I’m fresh out of jobs today.”
Kriff, that’s the third day in a row that there’s been absolutely no jobs, no bounties to go after, nothing. 
How is he supposed to repair the Razor Crest’s engine? How is he supposed to fix the broken pipe in the refresher? How is he supposed to feed himself?
“Thanks anyway, I guess,” Din mumbles. He sighs. It’s not really Karga’s fault that things are slow lately. He must be suffering, too. 
Din wracks his brain, trying to think of different ways to earn credits. But his mind is blank. 
He could get a job…? But then he shoots that idea down pretty quickly. How funny would it be if he just walked into a place of business and asked for a job, all decked out in beskar? He can’t make or sell anything. He doesn’t have any skills. His skill is bounty hunting and that’s about it. 
Just as he’s about to exit through the cantina door, he hears a voice whisper, “Hey, Mando.”
He looks to his right and sees a man, one he’s never seen around here before. The man motions for Din to come closer. He’s skeptical but Din knows when and where to keep his guard up so he follows. 
The man is shorter than Din, with shifty eyes and greasy hair matted down on his forehead. Before Din can ask what he wants the man speaks first. 
“I heard about your little problem just now.”
“It’s none of your business,” Din says, starting to turn and walk away. 
“What if I had a solution for you?” he says, stopping Din in his tracks. 
“What is it?”
“You ever heard of Discord?”
“…No.”
“Do you have a data-pad?”
“…Yeah.”
“Download the app Discord.”
“What is it?”
“Like a chat room. Trust me, there are so many lonely housewives who have too many credits lyin’ around. You chat them up, maybe show em a little something something, minus the face of course. And you’re golden. Just make sure you download Venmo so they can wire you the credits.”
It sounds nefarious, taking advantage of lonely, vulnerable people. But he needs to earn some credits. Or else he’ll never take a bounty again, never use the refresher again, and never eat again. Not dramatic at all. 
“Okay… Thanks,” he says awkwardly, slowly inching his way out of the cantina. He power walks to the Razor Crest, anxious to boot up his data pad and download this Discord thingy. He’s not the best with social interactions to begin with but surely being behind a screen will help… right? 
As soon as he’s settled in his bunk he pulls out his data-pad, searching up Discord and Venmo and downloading them both. Once he opens Discord, he’s prompted to pick out a username and password. And he spends a bit too long deciding what his username will be. But ultimately he goes with BountyMan1 because BountyMan just had to be taken already. For a password, he chooses… password. Not much thought was put into that one. 
Ah kriff, he needs to choose an icon. There’s no way someone will want to chat up a blank circle. For this one, he’s going to need the mirror in the refresher. He holds up his data pad in the mirror, taking an extremely blurry photo. He looks at it and decides it’ll do before retreating to his bunk again.
And now… it’s time to flirt with some lonely women. He has his location service activated so the profiles he’s seeing are from people on Nevarro, some of the people he recognizes and knows. Who would’ve thought? 
But to be safe, he chooses a different planet instead. He doesn’t need anyone recognizing him in the streets as that weirdo on Discord. So he sets his location as Tatooine just to be safe. 
He decides to slide into the direct messages of three profiles to start, to get some practice in. He messages the users; TatooineBaby, SoMuchSand47, and JabbaTheSlut. Each of their icons is just a picture of them on Tatooine. JabbaTheSlut’s icon is a little risqué, showing a bit of cleavage. He tries to ignore the way his cock twitches in his flight suit.
He types out a simple “Hey ;)” and waits for a response. To his delight, JabbaTheSlut responds first, saying; “Hey there handsome,” which Din finds extremely funny given that she can’t see his face. Not even just because of the helmet, but also the blurry as shit photo he used. 
SoMuchSand47 blocks him and his ego is bruised a bit. But he reassures himself that there will be a few losses in this line of business. TatooineBaby responds with a simple “Hello!”
It’s a small victory but he’ll take it. He got two out of three women to respond to him. And now he’s about to enter the next phase; chatting them up. 
“Thanks, sexy,” he responds to JabbaTheSlut, internally cringing at himself a bit. 
As JabbaTheSlut is typing, he responds to TatooineBaby, taking a different approach this time.
“How are you doing, beautiful?” he types, feeling a little less cringe about this interaction.
Soon enough, he’s engaged in conversations with them both. And he already finds it overwhelming to maintain two at the same time. Maker, how is he going to handle any more?
The conversations are fine, nothing too abnormal. JabbaTheSlut is more flirty than Tatooine Baby is. He thinks it’ll probably be easier to squeeze credits out of her than the other one. And that’s when JabbaTheSlut takes the conversation to a sexual turn. 
“You packing? ;),” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Care to show me?”
“Not for free. How much would you pay for a dick pic from a Mandalorian?
Kriff, what if she ends it here? What if she tells him to piss off and then blocks him?
“Fifty credits. What’s your Venmo?”
He can’t believe his eyes. Kriff, he needs to set up his Venmo. He still hasn’t done that. He closes out of Discord to open Venmo, hastily making an account with the same username as Discord. He links his Venmo to his account at the InterGalactic Banking Clan. Cool, that’s all set now. He messages JabbaTheSlut back with his Venmo handle and now it’s time for the… dick pic. 
He’s never done this before. Of course, he hasn’t. He barely knew how to work the holo-pad when he first bought it and honestly, he still doesn’t completely understand how to use it now. He pulls out his cock, stroking it enough just to get it hard but it’s not working. He’s feeling the pressure. He has to think about something else, something to get him hot and bothered. His mind immediately goes to this hot woman he saw at a cantina on Naboo once. She had long green hair and beautiful eyes. And when she spoke with Din at the bar she placed a hand on his bicep– he thought he was going to melt right there and then. 
Okay, this is working now. He’s getting hard. Alright, time to take the picture. He grabs his cock and strokes towards the base, pulling his foreskin down. He can’t decide whether or not to take a picture with the flash on or off so he does one of each. But ultimately he decides to send her the one with flash.
He checks his Venmo and sees she sent him the fifty credits. He can’t believe someone actually paid for this. He sends her the picture and anxiously awaits her response. 
“Damn. It’s big. Not that I expected any less from a Mandalorian ;),” she says.
Alright, this was enough activity for him for one evening. He needs to rest and try not to feel shame about what he just did. He checks on the conversation with TatooineBaby and she never responded. Oh well, a win is a win. Maybe he won’t be so bad at this after all.
When he wakes up the next morning, there’s a slew of messages. There are some from JabbaTheSlut but there are also some messages from new people entirely. He has messages from JediPussyTrick, BeMyNaboo, SorganSlut69, and WhoreForMandalore. They’re from planets all over the galaxy. He must’ve changed his location range by accident. 
All of the messages are various generis horny messages, except for one. There’s one from WhoreForMandalore that’s not sexual in nature but rather curious instead. He looks at their icon, a beautiful woman. He swears the background of the picture is Nevarro but it’s hard to tell from how small it is. 
“Are you a real Mandalorian?” WhoreForMandalore’s message says… your message says. 
He chooses to respond to you first.
“I am.”
“Hot.”
“Nice username.”
“Thanks! Bit of an inside joke between me and my friends.”
“What kind of joke?”
“You could say I have a fetish for them I guess.”
“Oh??”
“Mask kink goes hard.”
“I see…” he replies. He doesn’t really know what to say next but he’s intrigued by you. In the meantime, he checks out his other messages. JabbaTheSlut is asking about pricing for other stuff this time… videos of him masturbating. He supposes he could, but he’ll have to charge more. 
“A hundred credits,” he types. 
“You got yourself a deal baby,” she responds. And within an instant, there’s a notification from his Venmo, one hundred credits. Alright, it's time to do the deed. It’s hard to get hard on demand but he’ll have to get used to it if this is the life he wants to live.
His mind wanders, going back and forth about what to think of to get himself hard. His mind settles on you and your Discord icon. He can’t quite put his finger on why. Your picture wasn’t a sexual one, just a normal photo of you smiling with the sun beaming down on you. But then he thinks about what you said… mask kink. 
Kriff, that gets him hard. He’s stroking himself mindlessly before realizing he has to film this, hastily opening his camera and pressing record. It all happens so fast– his hand wrapped around his cock, his pre-cum leaking from the head of his cock, the soft moans and groans he’s letting out. Before he even realizes it, he’s coming ropes of cum, moaning and cursing under his breath. He stops the video and takes a second to process what just happened. That’s the fastest he’s ever came. And all he did was think about you and your mask kink…
He has to message you again. 
He sends the video of him jerking off to JabbaTheSlut and rushes back to his conversation with you.
“You ever been with Mandalorian?” he types.
While he anxiously awaits your response he checks his other messages. SorganSlut69 is asking what types of services he offers. He supposes he should make a price list now. 
He types out:
15 credits for nude mirror pics (helmet stays on of course)
25 credits for bulge pics
50 credits for dick pics
100 credits for jerk off vids
+25 credits for pictures of the mess after
Venmo: BountyMan1
That seems reasonable, right? He sends the price list to SorganSlut69 and checks his other messages. He decides just to send his price list to everyone actually, figuring it would be easier that way. But he holds off on sending the price list to you for some reason. JabbaTheSlut immediately asks for an aftermath picture and sends twenty-five credits. He takes the picture before his cock goes fully soft and sends that over. 
SorganSlut69 says, “Mirror picture first. I want to see what I’m working with.”
He sighs and gets up, cleaning up the mess of cum and slowly taking off his armor and flight suit. He realizes he has to be hard again for this picture so he strokes his cock once more, thinking of you…
Soon enough, he’s rock-hard and holds up his data-pad in front of the mirror, snapping a photo but waiting to send it until he receives the credits. SorganSlut69 sends the fifteen credits and he sends the picture, taking the time to transfer all of his new credits to his bank account before proceeding any further. He surely has enough to fix the pipe in the refresher now but he has to keep going if he’s going to repair the Razor Crest’s engine. 
A notification from you pops up on his screen. 
“Nope ;),” you respond. All the better for him. 
I can do this, he tells himself. 
Little does he know he’s great at this actually.
-
A few rotations have passed and even if that short amount of time he’s built up regulars; JabbaTheSlut, BeMyNaboo, JediPussyTrick, and SorganSlut69. And then there’s you. He hasn’t brought up his new line of work with you just yet. His conversations with you range from sexual topics to random casual stuff. He likes talking to you and maybe he doesn’t want to bring up what he does yet, fearing it may change your dynamic from a woman he’s talking with to one of his clients.
His regulars are… fine. The conversations there are purely transactional, never extending into real conversation. Except for SorganSlut69 who tries to converse with him. She’s extremely annoying but she tips on top of paying paying Din his normal rate. So he feels obligated to entertain her.
One afternoon you happen to ask him, “So you’re a bounty hunter?”
Kriff, he feels like he can’t lie to you for some reason. Even though it’s so easy to do that over a screen, but he just can’t bring himself to do it.
“I used to be,” he replies.
“What do you do now?” you ask.
“...I sell photos.”
“Photos? What kind?”
He sighs and figures it would be easier just to send you his price list. Maybe you’ll want something?
Your response is so cute to him for some reason.
“Would it be okay if I bought something?”
You’re like… asking for permission to use his services. He doesn’t quite get why but it’s adorable to him.
“Of course. What would to like?”
“Hmm, a bulge pic.”
Right after you send that he gets a notification from Venmo. And just when he thought you couldn’t get any cuter you do, putting a little note in the memo on the transaction.
“Thank you <3,” the note says.
He’s already hard because it’s you of course. He snaps a photo and sends it your way, extremely anxious for your response.
“Oh wow,” you respond with an emoji that has a shocked expression on its face.
“You like what you see?” he asks. 
“I doooo,” you say.
“You want anything else?”
“Video?”
Maker, he’s excited to send you this video. He’s already hard and horny for you, thinking about what it would be like with you here, straddling him and soaking his cock. Kriff, he wants you bad.
He pulls out his cock, the tip glistening with the most pre-cum he’s ever seen. He begins recording, stroking his cock slowly before building up to a faster pace. He wishes he wasn’t about to cum in his hand, instead wishing he was coming on you, inside you- wherever you wanted him. 
Before he knows it, he’s coming in his hand, letting out a deep and visceral moan, his imagination feeling almost real for a moment. He stops recording and sends you the video before checking to see if you even sent the credits first. You did, though, he just couldn’t recall during his state of bliss. The memo on the transaction is filled with a bunch of hearts of course. He’s got it bad for you.
-
A few weeks pass by and his business is going stronger than ever. The Razor Crest’s engine is repaired. The pipe in the refresher is fixed. And he’s got enough rations to last him for weeks. He has a few more regulars and SorganSlut69 is just as annoying. His conversations with you are deeper and more meaningful, despite you being one of his customers. He wonders if one day this will progress any further. 
His questions are answered when you send him a message that says, “Have you thought about selling your cum?”
The question makes his brain short-circuit. 
“No… Why?”
“I told my friends I was talking to a Mandalorian and they told me I need to try some of his cummies.”
“To do what with it?”
“I don’t know exactly… Play with it?”
That’s not. 
“Okay… How do I get it to you?”
“Where are you located?”
“...Nevarro.”
“No way! Me, too.”
Kriff, he wasn’t imagining it. The background in your icon was actually Nevarro. 
“Meet up at the marketplace?” he asks. 
“Sure. How’s tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah! After sundown?”
“Sure!”
Krifffff, he’s nervous. How is he going to do this? It’s still pretty early in the day. He can’t imagine you want his hours-old cum in a jar. 
Maybe he can… convince you to watch? Maybe. 
Whatever, he’ll just find out when he sees you. 
-
Nightfall comes around and Din is anxious to meet you in person, to hear what your voice sounds like, to see what you smell like– to see if you match the idea he has of you in his head.
He heads to the marketplace as darkness sweeps through the town, no one around except for nefarious characters. And Din doesn’t care about what those people think of him. He spots a figure in the center of the marketplace, facing away from him. 
It has to be her, he thinks to himself. 
He approaches slowly before softly calling out, “WhoreForMandalore?”
“Hi! You must be BountyMan1,” you say, turning around and greeting him with a smile. You immediately tell him your real name and he repeats it over and over in his head, deciding that it suits you. 
“So… Do you have it?” you ask, complete with a suggestive smirk. 
“Oh! I, uh, thought you might want it… fresh?” he sputters. He could have worded that better. 
“Oh! Um-”
“You know… not stale.”
“Right! My place or yours?”
“I’ve got a cramped ship so maybe yours?”
“Sounds good!” you say cheerfully, leading the way to your house.
It’s a small house on the outskirts of town, the opposite side from where Din parks the Razor Crest. You let him inside, closing the door behind you before leading the way to your bedroom. Din takes a look at his surroundings, noticing little details about your living space as he walks through. You sure like Dr. Pepper… He can tell by all the cans on your coffee table, on the kitchen counter, and on your nightstand. 
“Make yourself at home,” you say, gesturing to the bed. 
He sits at the edge of the bed awkwardly, feeling incredibly nervous. Are you going to watch him do this? Kriff, that thought alone already has him hard. 
“Where do you, uh, want it?” he says, glancing around the room, “In this?” he says, picking up an empty Dr. Pepper can. 
“Hmm, I have a different idea,” you say suggestively, walking in front of him and kneeling on the floor.
“Oh? What are you-” he cuts himself off when his breath hitches at your touch. Your hand slides up his thigh, inching closer to his cock.
“Is this okay?” you ask sweetly, peering up at him.
“Y-Yes… More than okay,” he stutters.
“Alright,” you chuckle, undoing the flight of his flight suit. Never in a million cycles did Din think he’d be here in your bedroom, with you on your knees before him, taking his cock out. His brain short circuits and he realizes he should set down the Dr. Pepper can he’s still awkwardly holding. He sets it back down on your nightstand and shudders when your hand finally wraps around his cock. You start by going slow, licking his balls, and kissing the base of his shaft. Your lips and tongue move ever so slowly, teasing him relentlessly. 
“Kriff, cyar’ika,” he moans, “Oh wait, do you know what that means?” he asks, voice jumping an octave as you lick one long, slow stripe from his base to his tip.
“You think WhoreForMandalore doesn’t know what cyar’ika means?” you tease.
“You’re right. I-” He’s cut off again when you swirl your tongue in between the head of his cock and his foreskin. He curses in Mando’a, his voice low and the words so jumbled you can barely make out what he said. Your hand wraps around the base as you finally take him in your mouth, fitting as much of his length as you can. Your head bobs up and down as your tongue is flat against the underside of his cock. His hands caress each side of your head, ever so lightly because he’s unsure if it’s okay or not. But when you moan at the feeling of his gloved hands enveloping your face he grips harder, using a little more force. You look up at him, directly into his visor and Din has to try his best not to bust right then and there, in love with the way you’re so eager to please him. Your other hand cups his balls as you suck him off faster, picking up the pace when you hear his moans grow stronger. 
And then he cums, hot cum spilling down your throat all while you don’t break eye contact, swallowing every last drop. He lets out a deep, guttural moan from underneath his helmet, his mixture of pants and curse words filling your bedroom. And once he’s done coming, you don’t stop, prolonging his high even further. 
But once he’s finally done and you take him out of your mouth, you look up at him, resting back on your heels. 
“Was that okay?”
“That… was amazing, cyar’ika,” he pants, still in disbelief that that just happened. He just expected to jerk off into a Dr. Pepper can, not receive head from the most beautiful woman on Nevarro. He looks down at you as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and feels… nervous all of a sudden. He’s never done anything like that before… like ever. 
He rises from the bed and dashes out of your room, all while you’re looking up at him in confusion. 
“Bye. Thanks for everything. Don’t worry about paying me!” he calls out over his shoulder, leaving your house and swiftly heading back to the Crest. 
He runs inside and sits in his bunk, panting from his little sprint and the evening’s activities. He wants to see you again. That is if you’ll still have him after.
His worries subside once he hears a noise from data-pad go off. He picks it up and reads a Discord notification from you. 
“I had fun tonight. Until next time, Mando ;)”
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Hopefully y’all caught the little Easter egg in the beginning but, the woman with long green hair and beautiful eyes is @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin 😍😏
@pedrostories
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Text
Here, have this
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"God, you're so annoying, y/n! You don't have any idea what you're fucking talking about!" Schlatt yelled, walking away from you and into the kitchen.
"Excuse me, Mr. I'm-too-busy-to-spend-even-a-second-with-my-girlfriend! It's not my fault you've taken on so much and stretched yourself so thin! You did this to yourself!"
It was the 5th night in a row where Schlatt had to call and tell you he 'had to work late' and 'sorry hon, rain check for dinner tonight'.
"Jesus Christ I am so tired of you nagging me all the time! You're always around, just leave me the fuck alone for once!"
"If that's how you feel then maybe we shouldn't even be together!"
"There's a bright idea. Nice to know you can have those every once in a while."
"Fuck you, Schlatt! We're done." You yelled, before grabbing your purse and walking out of his house.
Walking into your apartment, you let your purse drop to the floor and flopped onto your couch, leaning your head back, and letting out a loud sigh, releasing all the pent up anger you'd harbored on your angry drive home.
It unfortunately wasn't uncommon for you and Schlatt to get into arguments. They'd usually result in one of you storming out of the house, and either returning later that night to exchange apologies and end with rough, angy make up sex or returning the next day and deciding it'd be best for both of you if you took a break for a while.
This was the fourth time it'd happened, and you were tired of it. You loved Schlatt, you really did. But God was it exhausting to break up and get back together all the time. You knew that this wasn't what it was supposed to be like.
Deciding to call Schlatt in the morning you turned on your TV for the sole purpose of serving as background noise for you to numbly fall asleep to, preparing yourself for what would come in the morning.
-------
When you woke up, you briefly looked around your apartment before remembering the previous night's fight. You'd grown used to waking up in Schlatt's warm arms, his face buried in your neck from behind, so it was almost a strange feeling to be cold and alone.
Looking at the clock it read 10:30. Schlatt would probably be awake, most likely editing again. You pressed the call button on his contact half expecting him not to answer.
"Hey."
"I think we need to talk."
"Yeah, I guess."
"Coffee?"
"Yeah. I can be there in 20."
"See you then."
You left only a few minutes later after running your fingers through your hair and brushing your teeth, making yourself look somewhat presentable, and almost subconsciously walked to the coffee shop down the street, a place that had quickly become of favorite of yours and Schlatt's.
Looking around and not seeing him yet you at a table by the door, watching it and gently scratching your arms as a distraction from the way you were feeling.
Schlatt walked in and after briefly meeting your eyes sat silently across from you. It was obvious how little either of you wanted to be there right now, and it looked like neither of you wanted to speak first.
"Schlatt, we can't keep doing this."
Taking a deep breath, Schlatt muttered a defeated "I know."
"I think we need to break up. For good this time."
He sat silent for a long pause, staring at the fingers he was tapping on table.
"Whatever." he finally said, quickly standing up and leaving the coffee shop without another word or glance your way.
You sat for a bit, letting what had happened sink in. That was it. Wiping away the trapped tears that were making your eyes burn and throat hurt you left as well, walking the opposite way that Schlatt had, to your apartment, heartbroken and alone.
----------
It'd been a week. There were no texts, no calls, nothing exchanged between either of you. Schlatt hadn't posted anything, which surprised you. He had been trying to be more consistent with it. You posted a memory on Instagram and he wasn't among the notifications of likes like he normally would be.
This was foreign. You and Schlatt had started as friends before you'd gotten together the first time. You'd never gone longer than a couple days without any sort of contact, and that was only because he'd had to go back home and had forgotten his phone charger.
Your kitchen counters were littered with pizza boxes, food wrappers, bottles, you hadn't been bothered to cook anything or clean anything up. You could stand for a shower, shown evident by the greasy knot on top of your head and the thin layer of grime that had settled on your skin. Snotty and tear soaked tissues blanketed your living room floor. You were sinking and there was no one that could pull you up.
"I'm so pathetic" you whispered to yourself, looking at your smelly clothes and dirty surroundings. "I can't just sit here anymore." you resolved, standing up before moving to the bathroom to shower and start putting your life back in order.
------------
A few hours later you were tying the last garbage bag, your apartment, and you, looking leagues better than they had earlier..
A knock on your door pulled your attention away from cleaning. You hadn't ordered anything and your neighbors weren't usually the kind to stop by for anything.
Opening the door you were surprised by what you saw.
"Schlatt?"
There he stood, nearly filling your door frame with his large frame. He was unshaven, and his outfit looked about how yours had this morning, wrinkly and disheveled. But what surprised you was that he was crying. In all the time you'd known him, as a friend or a boyfriend, you'd never seen Schlatt cry.
But here he was, on your door step, big brown eyes watery with unshed tears, his nose running and red.
"Y/n" he choked out, voice rough from a combination of unuse and sobs.
Before you could say or do anything, Schlatt reached out and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and hiding his face in your neck.
"I'm so so sorry for how I was treating you recently. You were right, I'd been spending too much time away from you. But I'm gonna get better." He blubbered.
"Schlatt--" you started, before he cut you off.
"I am. I'm going to be so much better for you. I know I don't deserve you, Y/n, I know you deserve someone who's so much better than me, but I'm gonna be better for you. I love you so much, angel. I know, we've had our issues, and i've said things in the past, but none of it is true. You're it. You're it for me. I need you in my life, Y/n. This last week has been hell without you. God I can't even begin to explain how I felt in the coffee shop when you said we were done for good. My whole world came tumbling down. It hurt so, so much. And I know it hurt you too and i'm sorry that I pushed you to do that. Please, give me one more chance. Please."
He looked into your eyes after that speech, trying to find your response before you said it.
Letting out a small sigh you pulled him down into another hug, clearing your throat from the new wash of tears that came over you.
"I love you, Schlatt."
You could feel Schlatt let out a breath you knew he'd been holding before he held you even tighter than before, if it was possible.
"I love you. So much."
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