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#i was gonna write a fic but i couldn’t words anymore than this
morgana-larkin · 11 hours
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I love angst for some reason, but can you write a Melissa x reader breakup fic? Where reader is in their mid 20’s and Melissa is obviously wayyy older than her. Melissa realized that they’re both heading in different paths in life and tries to gently breakup with reader, but calls her all the pet names like “kid/kiddo, young one, little bunny, etc” (this is taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘Illicit Affairs’ where she’s going “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you’ve made me…”)
Maybe a part two if you’re feeling up to it, with gentle smut as reader and Melissa get back together and make love again? 👀
Oh I’m definitely making a part two to this, I mean I can’t leave things with Melissa on a sad note. So I went with the nicknames hon and kid. I did ended listening to the Taylor Swift song and based some of the things off of the song. And I just gotta say that I procrastinated on doing this for 4 days straight as it hit too close to home. I called off my engagement 3 months ago to someone 15 years older than me because we were heading down different paths in life. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: still taking prompts peeps!
Don’t Call Me That
Warnings: Angst and no comfort, no happy ending, may break your heart like it did for me
Words: 2.25k
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You and Melissa are cuddling on the couch watching real housewives. Melissa found out you’ve never seen it so of course she had to show you. The two of you have been together for about 8 months now and never been happier.
Well, you have never been happier. Melissa was happy, but she still has so much doubt on whether or not she should have gotten with someone so much younger than her. Especially when you made comments on what you want to do with your life.
“I hope to get married someday.” You said once. “Maybe we can have kids together.” You said another time. “We should go out to a bar or a club together sometime.” You said one time. Melissa just looked at you and smiled each time but didn’t reply. Those thoughts swirl around in Melissa’s head until one day she couldn’t ignore them, you both wanted different things and she couldn’t let this relationship go on even more.
“Hey hon, can we talk?” She says to you when she visits you at your place on Saturday.
“Alright, sure.” You said, none the wiser. You and Melissa go on your couch and you face her with a smile. Melissa wishes you weren’t smiling as it makes it harder knowing that she’ll be that reason for that smile to drop.
“I don’t think this is working out anymore.” She starts and you look at her confused.
“What do you mean?” You ask and you frown.
“I mean this.” She says and gestures between you both. “Our relationship, I think we should end it.”
“Why?” You ask, concerned.
“Because we want different things in life hon. I don’t want to get married again, I wanted kids before but not anymore, and I don’t want to go to clubs if I don’t have too. But you’re young, you should have things you want and you should do it.” She tells you and you look down at your lap. She really wants to comfort you but knows she can’t.
“So that’s it? We’re over, just like that? I have no say in this?” You ask her and she looks guilty.
“I’m afraid so hon.” She says and you snap you head up at her.
“Don’t call me that if you’re gonna break up with me.” You snap and that catches her off guard. She knows you might be upset but didn’t think you’d snap at her, but she doesn’t blame you.
“I’m sorry y/n.” She tells you.
“Please leave.” You say and she nods defeatedly. She gets up and walks to the door and opens it. Before she leaves, she glances at you.
“I really am sorry.” She says and leaves. As soon as she closes the door, you get up and lock it, then you put your back on the door and slide down while crying.
On Monday you walked in the doors of Abbott and went to the break room as usual. Only this time instead of saying hi to Melissa when you pass her, you just walked right by her to the fridge.
“Hi hon.” Melissa says to you.
“Don’t call me that.” You say as you put your lunch in the fridge. Everyone turns their attention to you and Melissa as they knew you were dating. “My name is y/n.” You say to her and go to make a coffee.
“I know what your name is.” She tells you as you pour the coffee into your mug.
“Then I suggest you use it.” You tell her and walk out.
Melissa sighs and leans back into her seat.
“Trouble in paradise?” Barb asks Melissa.
“If trouble you mean broken up then yes.” Melissa says and everyone gasps.
“Omg what happened?” Janine asks.
“None of youse businesses.” She tells them and walks out. Everyone turns to Barb for answers.
“Don’t look at me, the only thing I know is Melissa broke up with y/n if their emotions are anything to go by.” Barb tells them.
Melissa tries to talk to you for the rest of the day when she gets an opportunity but you keep shutting her down.
She keeps trying every day for 2 weeks until she had enough. She got Mr Johnson to watch over her class while she goes to talk to you during your prep period.
She knocks on your door and walks in after you call out a ‘come in’ to whoever was there. When you look up you see the person you least expected, mostly because she has a class right now.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be teaching?” You tell her as she closes your door.
“Mr Johnson is watching them until I get back. I need to talk to you hon.”
“I keep telling you not to call me that! And the last time we talked, you broke up with me so I don’t really want to talk to you.” You told her and she sighs. You get up and go to bring a stack of papers to the back of the classroom.
“I know but I’ve been trying to at least be friends with you like we were before we started dating because I like our friendship.” She tells you as she follows you to the back and you whip around to face her.
“Friends? You think I would want to be friends with you? Melissa, do I need to remind you that you broke up with me and didn’t even bother talking about it with me? You just made the decision on your own.” You grit out.
“It was the best decision.”
“For who exactly? Cause it sure wasn’t the best for me.” You tell her and she looks at you.
“It was for you. I made it for you so you can have the life you want. I can’t give you everything! So I let you go so you could! Believe me when I tell you that I didn’t want to break up with you! You are the best damn thing to happen to me and it broke me to let you go!” She tells you and you gasp.
“That’s the reason?!? You. Are. An. Idiot Schemmenti! Just because I may have thought about certain things doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. I’m 25 and I’m not certain about what I want to do in life.”
“See that right there is what I’m talking about. You have no idea what you want cause your life has just begun, while mine, well I’m 55, I’m going to retire in 10 years hopefully. My life is almost over.” She tells you frantically and at that Barb comes in.
“Girls, can you quiet down. It’s hard enough to teach 5 year olds how to read the alphabet as it is. It’s even harder with your yelling.” She tells you both and you look at Melissa.
“What I knew I wanted in life was you. But I guess I was wrong. You should get back to your class.” You tell her and you leave to go print something. “Sorry Barb.” You tell her as you pass her by.
Barb looks at Melissa who has a couple tears rolling down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, what were you trying to accomplish here?” She asks her and Melissa lets a sob escape.
“I was trying to be friends with her again.” She tells her.
“Melissa, you just broke up with her out of the blue. At least for her it was out of the blue. You have to give it time before she might consider being your friend again.” Barb tells her and Melissa nods.
“I know, I just, I miss her.”
“Listen I have to go back to my classroom and you have to go back to yours but how about you come to my classroom at lunch and we can talk then.” Barb suggests and Melissa wipes her tears away.
“Ok.” She says with a nod and then leaves back to her classroom.
2 months go by and Melissa has stopped any interaction with you. You still know she looks and stares at you but never talks to you.
Melissa can’t help it whenever she sees you, she never talks to you even though she wants to, she just stares at you. Her heart breaks every time she sees you.
10 weeks after she breaks up with you, your both in the break room along with everyone else. You’re talking to the trio and they ask about your weekend plans and you mention you have a date. Melissa whips her head up from looking at her phone and her jaw drops and eyes got watery.
You may not be able to see her face but you saw her whip her head up. You also see Barb looking at her sympathetically which means she must look sad right now.
You tell them your contemplating on whether or not you should go, you think you shouldn’t but Janine and Gregory tell you to go and Jacob tells you no. You go over to Barb for the tie breaker and you show her a picture of the girl, Melissa also sees the picture of her and she realises that you’re going out with someone around her age.
Barb tells you it’s your choice and that’s when Melissa pipes up. “Isn’t she too old for you kid?” She asks you while taking a bite of her pasta.
You glare at her and scoff. “I think that’s for me to decide, cause I do have a say in some things.” You tell her and she looks down guiltily.
On Monday morning you walk in the break room and the trio asks you how your date went.
“It was alright. We’re going out again this Saturday.” You tell them and you hear Melissa scoff. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her and she turns around in her chair.
“It doesn’t seem you’re interested in her since you said it was alright.” She tells you.
“Well it was my first date with her and I haven’t had a first date in a year.” You say and she stands up, grabs her things and walks out. You turn back to the trio and continue the conversation. Barb follows Melissa out to make sure she’s not destroying anything or about too.
The next Monday you’re talking to the trio about your second date and you tell them that you’re not going to see her again as you’re not interested in her. You don’t see it but Melissa smiles. You don’t but Barb sure does and rolls her eyes at her.
It’s been 3 months since the break up now and you stop by quickly at Melissa’s to get a few things she recently found that’s yours. In reality, Melissa found them 3 months ago and hid them when you came to get your things so she would have a few reminders of yours but now she wants an excuse to talk to you.
The box of your things is on the coffee table and Melissa is sitting on the arm of the couch when you walk in. Melissa told you that she’ll leave the door unlocked for you.
“Are those the things?” You tell her and nod your head to the box and she nods at you.
“Ya, it is.” She tells you and you don’t really move, she sees you looking around. You usually went to her place about 3 times a week to hang out with her after school and she would make dinner for you two.
“How are you kid?” She asks you and you look at her.
“I thought I’ve told you to stop with the nicknames and use my actual name.”
“You have, but I like using nicknames for you.” Is all she says.
“Why?”
“Because I always have, I’ve rarely called you by your actual name. It feels wrong to call you by your actual name.”
“Well you might want to work on how to make it sound right.” You tell her and walk over to grab the box and she grabs your wrist and you gasp.
“You never answered me when I asked how you were.” She tells you.
“You really want to know how I am?” You ask and she nods. “I’m broken.” You told her and her eyes look upset. “You broke up with me and now I’m broken and a mess. I chose not to go on a third date because all I thought about on the two dates was you.” You tell her and she lets go of you but you make no attempt to move. You want to challenge her to something to see what she really thinks and you grab the back of her head and you kiss her. She’s stunned for a second but then she automatically kisses you back but then you pull back 3 seconds later and she looks at you shocked. “You can’t tell me that that doesn’t feel right. I may not know much about what I want in life but I know I wanted to spend it with you. I’m aware of the age gap but it never made a difference to me because I love you. I thought you loved me.” You tell her then you grab the box and leave.
As soon as you close the door, Melissa falls down on the couch and starts crying. “I’m so sorry y/n.” She sobs out. “I do still love you.”
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta
@imaginesmultifandoms
@idonothingalldays-blog
@sexysapphicshopowner
@dvrkhcld
@lilfartbox1
@ricejucie
Let me know if you want to be added!
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queerbuckleys · 1 year
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maddie and eddie texting coda [1/?] 6x12
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sooniebby · 8 months
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Based on my random thought (I’ll be sprinkling what he’ll say in the actual fic, this is just a little sneak peak!)
“Usually my other clients can handle more than one pose—but it looks like you’re thinking about my cock instead, huh? Such a slutty boy… well, go on. Don’t get shy now. It’s your own time you’re wasting.”
Imagine having a yoga instructor who seems a bit rude and stand offish during his classes. He doesn’t talk except when giving instructions. It’s mainly for work, that’s all.
Even in his more… sexual side of work, he doesn’t feel much else. Except when he fucks you <3
Something about your whiny moans. The way you practically scream when he slams his cock inside of you. How you try to answer his questions even when the only sounds coming out of your mouth are moans.
He loves manhandling you. At first it was just to make you do different yoga poses—now he just loves seeing how easy he can control you. He’s grip is always harsh, wanting to make sure he leaves some time of mark on your body as your tight heat takes in his cock so easily.
“You can suck better than that, baby… don’t piss me off, alright?”
He loves it whenever you whimper, whining about how harsh he was treating you. But you knew the safe word—you just never said it. His smacks against your butt, tight grip on your waist… most instructors don’t kiss their clients, their own little golden rule. He follows it but makes up for it by biting you all over.
Leg, arm, stomach, neck, shoulder. Nothings safe. You always took them well. It’s like you were made for him. His perfect boy~
“Don’t muffle yourself. Everyone else is fucking and you can hear their moans. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”
He almost feels sad when the session is over. And the next day when he’s fucking his other client, all he can think of is you. Your moans. Your screams. His name on your tongue. You, you, you…
Damn, he was screwed. This wasn’t just work anymore.
wowowow! This was fun to write, and actually helped me develop my OC for this prompt more! This for male/trans masc reader if you couldn’t tell!
The character’s name is Tatsumi Yuta, if anyone cared lol. I’ll be writing the actual fic soon!! Im excited to do so. Feedback appreciated, and ask if you wanna be tagged once I publish chapter 1! (Yes it’s gonna be a series)
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daddyy333 · 1 year
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Needy | Eddie Munson x y/n
if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it
word count: 2.6k
summary: Eddie has never given it all to you because he doesn’t want to hurt you, but you refuse to wait any longer. You want all of him and you want him now.
warnings: smut, p in v, oral (I think), squirting, overstimulation, ?
sorry this has taken so long I don’t know writing hasn’t exactly been my top priority because I’ve got a lot going on but I’m still writing as often as I can so new fics are gonna be slow but I promise I’ll be back to posting like I used to soon
The first time you saw Eddie’s dick, you were honestly worried. One, how the hell does he find pants and underwear big enough to fit that thing. Two, how were you ever gonna get it inside you.
He knew that look. A lot of girls wore the same look when they saw him for the first time. He didn’t understand it really, he knew he was a little blessed but he thought he was just a little above average.
So naturally, he went down on you and fingered you till you came 3 times to make sure you were relaxed and wet enough for him to stretch you out. You’d honestly never felt anything as good as Eddie’s cock, and ever since then you’d been obsessed with it.
You’d be calling every night begging him to come over, or to come pick you up just so you could feel him deep in you, feel that overwhelming stretch that felt better than anything you had ever felt before. He didn’t mind too much, he found it adorable how needy you’d get, whining about how much you need to have him inside you.
You almost always got what you wanted, but not entirely. He never sunk all the way in. Majority of the time he was on top, and even when you were on top he’d still be holding you still while fucked up into you. He didn’t want you to sink all the way down and hurt yourself, he knew he was thicker at the base and he didn't want you to go too far.
You had begged and begged him to let you try and see if you could take it, but he would never let you. No matter how hard you begged or how much you tried to force yourself lower, he always managed to stop you.
But tonight, oh you were getting what you wanted. You’d been the horniest you’ve ever been in your life the entire day, feeling your slick stick to your inner thighs whilst you worked and noticing a wet patch on your seat when you got out of the car, you knew you needed him and you needed all of him.
“Ed’s, put the book down” you said as you came in, throwing your bag on the dresser and unbuttoning your work shirt. Holy shit did he hate that shirt, he hated it because it was so provocative and they always gave everyone a size smaller so they would attract customers with their “attractive waitresses.”
But right now, oh god you looked sexier than ever. Your hair was a little disheveled, your makeup making your eyes look darker and even more attractive. He wanted to devour you and make you cum till you couldn’t think anymore.
You worked your shirt off, stepping closer to him as you unbutton your shorts. You got to the edge of the bed and kicked your shoes off before slipping your shorts off as well. He grinned at you as you climbed on top of him, resting your hands on his ribs as you leaned down and kissed him.
“Mm, baby” he groaned through the kiss, his voice low and raspy making your pussy clench around nothing. You moved your hands to his chest, grinding down on his half hard cock. He moaned softly into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist hard.
You lightly tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he pulled away, nodding at you. You got his shirt off and he smiled up at you, toying with the straps of your thong. You bit your lip and he sat up, running his thumb along your bra strap.
You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting him slide it off of you. “God, you’re so fucking perfect” he said and scoffed, burying his head between your breasts. Kissing, licking, sucking, he was all over your boobs for a good few minutes.
Once he seemed to finally move on, you got off the bed and said “take off your pants and boxers…please,” He shook his head and complied, groaning when you took your panties off and he saw your bare cunt, slick spreading on your inner thighs.
You whimpered softly as his huge cock sprung out, leaking precum as he hissed, jerking himself off for a little relief. You smiled and crawled on top of him again, running your hands up and down his chest and stomach, watching his cock jump as you felt his thighs up a little.
“Baby please…I need you. It hurts…” he said and you giggled. You bit your lip and lined yourself up with him, sliding down a little and stretching yourself. He sighed relievingly and squeezed your tit in one hand, the other keeping a firm grip on your hip as he moaned at the feel of your tight, warm, and wet pussy on his sensitive tip.
“Go slow, babe. D-Don’t hurt yourself” he grunted out, he’d kill to pound into you till the sun rose but he never expressed it, because he would never risk hurting you. You groaned and started bouncing on him, not going all the way just yet.
He moved a hand to rub at your swollen clit, moaning loudly as your pussy sucked his cock in over and over again. “Baby…fuck, I love this pussy” he said and you smiled.
You grabbed his hands, forcing him to lie on his back slightly and held his hands as you continued bouncing on his cock. He grunted, abs tensing slightly as the pleasure consumed him. Perfect, just what you wanted.
You smirked, kissing down his jawline and neck. Once he was plenty distracted you sat up, his arms still above his head squeezing the pillow now to ground himself. You placed your hands on his chest and bit your lip, quickly sliding all the way down till your clit touched his little patch of pubic hair.
You gasped, moaning loud as your pussy stretched around him, feeling so so full you couldn’t believe it. “Babe!” Eddie shouted and grunted, shuddering as his cock throbbed. Your brows furrowed, jaw dropped as you moaned like crazy.
“Eddie…oh- oh I can barely take it- y- y-your so big- Eddieee!” You moaned, digging your nails into his chest. He breathed a little heavy as he wrapped his arms around your back, kissing you gently.
“Holy shit, you’re so perfect!” He said and you whimpered. You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, nearly knocking the wind out of yourself. He was so deep, and so thick you could already feel yourself getting close.
You only bounced a few more times before you were cumming hard, screaming Eddie’s name and squeezing his cock so good he couldn’t even think straight. “Haggh! Good girl…yea, cum so f-fast on daddy’s cock” he said and you cried his name, whimpering as your orgasmed continued to hit you in waves, your clit twitching hard as your pussy spasmed around his dick
“I- Uhh! Eddie! It’s too much- it- ahhh!” You moaned, tears streaming down your face from overstimulation. He gently pulled you off and you panted heavily, resting against his chest. “Eddie…” you giggled and he hummed, caressing your hair.
He was a little upset at you for doing it without warning and pushing yourself too far, or so he thought. “Need it again…please?” You begged and he furrowed his brows. He sighed and said “it was too much for you”
“No, I want it again” you said and looked up at him, straddling his lap. He kissed you softly and said “you just calmed down from the first one, baby you need to relax for a second” “Ed’s…” you whined, pawing at his chest.
He rolled his eyes and said “turn around then,” You smiled and turned around so your ass was facing him and he sat up, getting ready for you to sink down on his cock. He kissed your neck a few times and said “come on, babe, let me feel that pussy again,”
“Thought you wante-” “shut up,” he whispered as he pushed you down on his dick, making you whimper. You let out a strangled moan, your thighs tensing slightly as you got used to the feeling again.
You took all of him, whimpering and writhing on his fat cock. He grunted and squeezed your hips, biting your shoulder slightly. You groaned and started to bounce, holding one of his hands and reaching behind you to pull at his hair with the other and keeping him buried in your neck, just where he liked.
“Fuck! It’s so good- it’s so good!” You babbled mindlessly. He grunted and chuckled, palming your ass. You were so fucking sensitive, you didn’t know if you were gonna be able to get him there before you came again.
He smiled as he watched you bounce on his cock, face twisted in pleasure as you pulled at his hair and squeezed his hair. He grunted and said “could watch you ride me all day, gorgeous…”
You mewled at that, groaning harshly when he started to fuck into you slightly, feeling like the wind was being knocked out of you. He smiled and ran a hand over to your front, pushing down on the bulge of his cock in your lower tummy. You gasped and looked down, moans growing louder at the realization of how big he was and how deep you were taking him.
You whined, crying out as you started to clench hard around him. He groaned and bucked his hips harder, wanting to cum with you. You gasped as your legs shook, a sob racking your body. You didn’t know what he was doing to you, you were cumming so easily and so hard you couldn’t handle it.
“Fuck, babe…so sensitive,” he said, rubbing your clit. You nearly screamed, your pussy clenching so hard as you squirted all over him. Your whole body was shaking, your breathing all kinds of messed up and your moans and whines flowing out freely.
Your mind felt fuzzy after you finally stopped, nearly slumping over if not for Eddie holding you. He got you off his dick, laying you next to him as you panted hard, clinging to him. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at his angrily red cock. He needed to cum so bad, and he knew you didn't mean to but fuck he was really worked up.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you started to apologize and he shushed you, kissing your head and holding you close to him. He smiled and said “it’s alright, princess. I know, I know, you just can’t handle me, hmm? Too big for my little princess”
You mewled, peppering kisses on his jawline as slick gushed from your pussy again. You were so tired and sore but you wanted to make him cum and you’d do anything to get him there.
“Ed’s…” you whimpered, grabbing his hip. He shook his head and said “babe, uh uh, you’re gonna overdo it. I’m good, I’ll take care of it” “no, no Eddie….please” you said and he sighed.
“One more,” he said and you nodded, biting your lip. He kissed you softly, swallowing the moans you let out when he cupped your pussy, playing with the stickiness between your folds and toying with your clit.
“So wet, baby,” he said, jerking himself off a little to get him somewhere. You gasped softly, your breathing shaky and irregular. He grunted and you mewled as you watched him fist his cock, the tip reaching above your belly button.
“I want it Eddie,” you whined quietly, looking up at him with pinched brows. He cursed at how adorable you looked, getting into missionary so he could see your pretty face while you came around his cock.
“Yea? What do you want, baby? Tell me,” he said and your breath hitched as his mushroom tip circled your clit. You whined and said “I…I want your cock, I want all of it! I want your cum inside me, please!”
“Shhh, pretty girl. I’m gonna give it to you real good, don't you worry” he said and kissed you softly, sliding himself in and thrusting at a good pace. Not too slow, not too fast, just enough to let you adjust to the feeling.
“Awh, so fucking tight…” he grunted and you whimpered. You squeezed his shoulders, nails digging in his skin. You furrowed your eyebrows, moaning Eddie’s name and squirming as he began to drill his cock into you.
He grunted, sucking your tits into his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple. God, he was a slut for your tits. Whining into your boobs, he sped up his pace as much as he could.
“Mmh…Ed- E-Eddie!” You moaned and he grunted, panting softly as his eyes squeezed shut. He thrusted hair, your pussy swallowing his dick and making him see stars. “fuck…” he whispered, squeezing the sheets beside you.
You whimpered, hands tangled in his hair as your pussy fluttered around his cock. “Shit- shit uhh…oh god, I’m close!” You moaned and he moaned into your ear, your pussy squeezing him deliciously.
“I’m almost there baby….agh! Almost there!” He said and kissed your neck a few times, squeezing your arm slightly as he tried to keep the same angle that was making his dick throb so hard he thought it might fall off.
“I can’t….ahh! Don’t stop, don’t stop till- shit- till you…fuck!” You cried out as you squirted around him again, you were so sensitive but you needed him to cum at least once. He rubbed your clit, making your eyes roll back as your legs shook hard, stomach clenching as he thrusted as fast as he could until he finally exploded in you.
He nearly screamed as he came, burying his cock deep inside you, grunting and panting as he came endlessly. “Y/n- fuuuck! It’s too good- it’s too- ughhh!” He groaned, pumping his cock into you a few more times as his cock throbbed inside you.
“Baby…hey, hey look at me,” he said and caressed your face. Your eyes fluttered open as you whimpered, looking up at him. “Hurts…” you whimpered. He kissed your head and said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I knew I should’ve stopped I’m sorry. Why didn’t you use your safe word, huh?” “Just wanted to make you cum…” you muttered tiredly.
He sighed and started to pull out and you winced, pulling at his hair. “Ahh- babe! You know it’ll be okay once I’m out. Just relax,” he said and you sniffled. You curled over on your side once he pulled out, panting slightly.
Eddie grunted and stood up, collecting himself as he quickly realized that was not just any orgasm. He groaned and grabbed a towel to clean himself off. He winced, his dick super sensitive from the most amazing sex you two have ever had.
He put on clean underwear and made his way to the side you were facing, brushing your hair out of your face. “You don’t have to do anything, you know? We don’t have to finish with each other, I don’t have to finish inside you, none of that. I only want you to feel good” he said and kissed your head a few times.
You moved to lay on your back and sighed as the exhaustion took over. “What about you though?” You asked, playing with his hair. He chuckled and said “I always feel good with you baby”
You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, wearing stupid boyish grin. He smoothed your hair back and kissed you softly, humming into the kiss. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He said and you blushed, looking away.
Taglist: @readsalot73 @hellfire1986baby
As of now l'm writing for
Eddie Munson
Lo’ak
Neteyam
So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)
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python333 · 8 months
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bedbound — python333
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synopsis you're on a mission and oopsie daisy you get trapped under a building!! you end up in the medbay and tf141 visits you one by one, each of them giving you a lil piece of their mind for going and getting yourself trapped under a collapsed building.
relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.
characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.
word count 4.5k
warnings pretty detailed (i think) descriptions of [reader] being in pain [specifically having a bunch of leg injuries], angstier than i usually write, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].
note this is my first actual fic ive wrotten in MONTHS so i hope its okay! so sorry if it feels like a majority of the focus is on the reader, i had a too much fun writing out the first part where they get crushed :3 i am also once again begging for requests. like on my knees hands together begging for requests. its the best way of getting motivation istg. anyway, this is all mild hurt/comfort and some angst + fluff so enjoy!! :3
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You tried running out of the building—you didn’t expect the whole damn thing to come crashing down on you.
You’d just been chasing after an enemy soldier moments ago, dashing into the building, when suddenly the whole building seemed to shake. Then, the whole thing seemed to just collapse. When you think about it now, you realize the shake must’ve come from a nearby explosion, an explosion somehow powerful enough to damage the structural support of the building so terribly that it couldn’t hold itself up anymore and instead fell down onto you. 
Now, here you were, just ten steps away from the entrance of the building, stopped by the huge slab of concrete and twisted metal that pinned your legs down to the ground. Your earpiece fell off when you fell down, sliding across the floor, preventing you from calling your team.
Sure, you could try and move your legs, but the excruciating pain that came with each movement wasn’t worth it. You think your legs are broken with the way your nerves scream at you every time you move them, and with how uncomfortably and horrifyingly disconnected they feel.
“I’m making shit up,” You whisper hoarsely to yourself, ignoring the tears that welled up in your eyes from the debris and dust in the air, “They’re not broken. I’m making it worse for myself by thinking that.”
In the back of your mind, you remember that you’re quoting Price on that one, from the last time you got seriously hurt like this. You vaguely remember your panicked words and Price’s soothing voice that came after every worry, telling you that no, you’re not too badly hurt, it’s gonna be okay, you’re just panicking.
But in the forefront of your mind, all you can do is think about how you can’t reach your earpiece to talk to your team, the only thing you can do is listen to their worried voices.
The earpiece is loud enough for you to hear, even though you’re just out of arm’s reach from it, you can still hear your teammates repeating your call sign and asking how you copy. With the stupid Push-To-Talk thing, you can’t even just respond, no, you have to push the button on the side of your earpiece to unmute yourself.
You stretch your arm out just a little bit more to try and reach the earpiece, but when your leg starts to strain and your nerves light up you immediately give up, letting out a small, pained huff. You take a moment to just lie there and listen to your own labored breaths, every other breath hitching or catching in your throat.
You swallow down a sob that threatens to bubble out of your throat and try to reach again and—nope, that still fucking hurts.
You bring your hand back and put it over your mouth to muffle a small sob that climbs up and out of your throat, and try to take a deep breath the best you can with the debris in the air.
You feel a slight discomfort in your chest and cough, horrified when you see small specks of dust in the air you cough out, and God, the sight of it makes you want to rip out your lungs.
You feel the sudden urge to cough everything out, to flush out the dust in your lungs, to get rid of the uncomfortably full feeling you feel in your chest, but you know that every time you cough you can only exhale more of that debris-filled dust back in so now you’re trapped in a loop and—
“[c/n], how copy?” God, you want to yell at them that repeating that question won’t help, but you know there’s nothing else they can do. They’ve already asked where you are, if you’re okay, and how you copy multiple times, all of which got no answer.
They’ve only experienced radio silence on their end, and the thought makes you feel guilty for not being able to suck up the pain in your legs and just reach over to the damn earpiece and tell them you’re trapped.
You take a few deep breaths, trying your best to ignore the way you can literally feel the dust entering your lungs, and reach. You stretch your arm out the farthest you can, and feel the strain in your leg, and you’re almost to the earpiece, just a few more inches— pop.
A bone chilling pop rings through the air the moment you manage to snatch the earpiece, and good thing it was at least after you managed to grasp it firmly in your hand because you recoil back on instinct and gasp.
The gasp only lets in more dust, and you cough, wet tears dripping down onto your cheeks as you go through a seemingly endless loop of coughing out dust and inhaling debris and coughing it out again only for new dust to make its way into your system.
You stifle a pain-filled whimper and try to control your shaky breath, gripping the earpiece firming in your hand, looking down at it, looking at the sheer amount of debris on it. You bring your free hand out and wipe away the debris with shaky hands, making sure it’s clean enough to put in your ear before you carefully insert it.
It takes you a moment with your trembling hands, but you manage to do it, and you listen to Price ask how you copy one more time before you push down on the PTT button.
“Copy—” You hoarsely say, before coughing, everyone on the other line going silent, “Copy, not doing very well over here.”
“What happened?” Price’s voice crackles through on the damaged ear piece, “Are you hurt?”
“I got trapped under— under some concrete, and I…” You take a moment to catch your breath, “My legs are pinned, I can’t move.”
“Okay, okay,” Price’s voice softens, his tone becoming more soothing, “Where are you?”
“In a building— dunno which— which one… it’s by the really tall one,” You breathe out, mentally slapping yourself in the forehead for not being able to remember, “I’m sorry, I just know it’s orange and it has the entrance that Ghost bumped his head on—”
“It’s okay, I know which one you’re talking about,” Price reassures you, “Catch your breath. I’ll be there to get you out of there, okay? Just stay still, don’t move a muscle, you hear me?”
“I hear you,” You mumble, trying to catch your breath, coughing at the amount of dust that infiltrates your lungs. You bring your hand off of the PTT button and sob once, quietly, and sniffle to try and stop yourself from crying, blinking away tears.
The tears that trailed down your face earlier now only make you realize just how much dust and grime is on your face, how the tear trails must’ve been the only clean lines on your face, how there’s a whole layer of pure filth on your face and you can’t even properly wipe it away because your hands are dirty too.
The pain in your legs are throbbing and you know that you’ve torn some of the muscle in your thighs, and you know the popping noise had to have been your hip, from the unnatural way you’d twisted it to reach your earpiece. You don’t even have time to think about how pathetic you look when suddenly Price opens the barely-hanging-onto-the-hinges-door, looking at the floor for a moment before his eyes finally land on you.
He immediately walks over to the slab of concrete pinning your legs down and forcing you to lie on the ground and you can hear him faintly murmur, “Oh, God,” and kneel down to the same level as the concrete.
You turn your neck to look at him and watch as he looks at the concrete for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to lift it, before he simply grabs the edge of the concrete and, with a grunt and after a good thirty seconds, he manages to lift one end up and flip it over onto its other side. The circulation that immediately floods back to your legs and the sudden feeling of weightlessness you get is almost too much, and you can barely find it in yourself to feel shame as you let out a small, relieved sob at the sudden rush of blood to your legs.
Price immediately gasps and you can’t see much from your angle but in the midst of your relief you suddenly feel a pang of pain and oh God, that hurts. You can recognize now the warm blood that accompanies the drying blood on your calf, and with the blood rushing into your legs, more spills out from the wound in your leg. Vaguely, you can remember twisted metal doing something to your leg—stabbing it, maybe? Your brain becomes fog-filled; too hazy to think through but just clear enough to register the throbbing pain in your leg. 
“I’m so sorry,” Price murmurs softly, and before you can question him he takes the metal out of your leg and you let out a closed-lip scream, slapping a hand over your mouth to try and muffle the now uncontrollable sobs that break past your lips, the pain you feel making you light-headed.
Price quickly pulls a tourniquet out of one of the many pockets of his tactical best, wrapping the bright red strip around your leg just above the bleeding, blocking the blood from reaching past that point. He tightens it and rolls you over so that you’re laying on your back, making you stifle another pain-filled whimper. Without another word, he slips his arm under your knees and his other below your back and lifts you up bridal style, making you gasp sharply and cry out for a moment in pain, a few drops of blood making it onto the floor from your calf, the whole sight dizzying.
Being lifted up like this gave you vertigo—your head spun as you were lifted up and you could barely process anything with your hazy mind. Price mutters small ‘sorry’s under his breath, carrying you out of the door and quickly running with you in his arms back to where the others are, almost wanting to cry for you, seeing how much pain you were in.
Your eyelids drooped and your eyes shortly became half-lidded, and your ears started to ring, and everything was so overwhelming you just wanted it to be over. 
Price notices your eyelids drooping and quickly says, “Hey, hey, don’t pass out on me, you gotta stay awake, kid.” You can only shake your head ‘no’ because talking feels like too much right now and let out another small, pain-filled whimper, just the sound of it making Price’s heart shatter.
You can only find it in yourself to talk a moment later, your words slurring together as you try to speak, “I can’t— can’t… I’m sorry, I can’t—” You don’t even know what you’re trying to say, what you’re trying to warn Price about, but he seems to know.  
“No, no, no—” Price tries to beg you, as if you had enough strength to stay awake. Those are the last words you hear before you completely black out.
You wake up to a white ceiling and the faint beeping of a heart monitor. You move your head around a bit, trying to gauge where you are, when you realize— oh, I’m in the medbay. You blink for a moment before sighing and just resting there for a moment, trying to recount the events that happened earlier. You don’t have time to go down memory lane, though, because suddenly the curtains in front of your bed are pulled back to reveal your Captain. “You’re awake,” He states, closing the curtains behind him. “How could you tell?” He snorts and sits down in a chair by your bed. You look at him questioningly, “Where’re the others?” “They’ll be here soon,” Price assures you, looking at your blanket covered legs for a moment before looking back up at your face, “Medics said one at a time.” You hum neutrally in response to that and wait a moment before asking, “How bad is it?” “Your leg?” “Yeah.” “Well…” Price starts to list off on his fingers, recalling the doctor’s words, “The joint that connected your hips and your legs was twisted and it had to be set back to normal, your muscles were torn, your ligaments were torn, your nerves were so compressed someone had to physically massage your legs back to life, and the stab wound in your leg almost got infected.” “… Huh.” You blink at Price, before asking, “When can I get out of here?” “Why is that what you’re thinking about right now?” Price asks, confused, before sighing and answering, “Kid, your leg was basically broken. You can get out of here in maybe a few weeks to a month. Getting back to your assignments is a whole different story. It could take several months for your muscles to fully heal, and even then I don’t want you back out there for a while. Not until it’s guaranteed your leg won’t… give out, or something, out there.” You frown at Price, “So what, I’m just gonna be stuck here?” “What else are you gonna do with an almost-broken leg?” “…” Price sighs and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Look, I know it’s frustrating, having to sit here for a few weeks then be able to get out only to not be able to do anything too physical, but your leg muscles were torn. You were trapped under concrete. You’re not going on any missions any time soon. I feel like that should be kind of obvious.” You can understand it, knowing the condition you’re in now, but you still deflate a little where you lie down and let out a tired, frustrated huff. Price chuckles softly at your clear display of disappointment and rubs your shoulder gently before patting it and getting up. “I guess I have to let the others see you too,” He muses, making your lips twitch up into a smile, the sight making him smile in return, “But I’ll be back tomorrow to talk to you again, alright?” “Alright,” You nod, watching as he walks past the curtains blocking your bed from the rest of the medbay and listen as the door clicks open and closes shut. Not even a few seconds later, the door opens again, this time with someone walking faster to the curtains, pushing them aside eagerly. You quickly recognize Soap as he walks in, quickly closing the curtains behind him before rushing over and leaning down to hug you. This all happens so quickly you have to take a moment to process it, but you eventually hug him back, sighing at the warm embrace. “I want tae call ye stupid sae bad,” Soap mumbles into your neck as he hugs you, “but it wasn’ even yer fault sae I can’.”
“That’s the worst thing that’s happened all day,” You mutter sarcastically, making Soap laugh quietly. He pulls away from you and looks down at you. “It is, actually,” Soap says, and at your confused and mildly offended expression, he adds on, “It’s been over a day since ye got yer leg fucked up.” “… Oh.” You dumbly said, trying to process that. Over a day. “Everyone was really worried about ye, too,” Soap tacks on, refusing to sit on the chair behind him, simply standing by your bed. You stay silent, and Soap takes that as an invitation to keep talking. “I think that's the first time I've actually seen Ghost stressed," Soap muses, making you huff out a small laugh. “Really?” “Yea,” Soap smiles, “I ken. Stone cauld L.t, suddenly worryin’ o’er ye.”
“Isn’t that a surprise,” You mutter, a small smile gracing your lips thinking about Ghost worrying over you, “So you were all really worried?” “Very worried,” Soap nods, “Gaz thocht ye were gonnae die, poor chiel.” “Hm,” You hum neutrally. Soap stays silent for a moment before his voice softens and he quiets himself down a bit. “Try no' tae dae that again, aye? Ye'll gie the captain a heart attack," When you give him a pointed look, he rolls his eyes and adds on, “And me. Possibly. Maybe.” “Uh huh,” You look at him, unimpressed, “Right. I’ll try to predict when a huge piece of concrete is gonna fall on me.” “Ye ken wha’ I meant.”
“Never said I didn’t.” “Ye— y’know wha’? I’ll just leave then,” Soap says, feigning annoyance as he walks away from your bed, making you laugh quietly. He slips out and doesn’t bother to close the curtains behind him, simply walking out the door, not bothering to close that either.
You can hear him letting someone else know you’re ‘free to visit’, and just a few seconds later you watch Ghost walk in. You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, seeing as Soap had told you Ghost was worried over you, but you still find yourself a little shocked when he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him. He sits at the chair beside your bed, and silently stares at you from the chair.
You stare back, not blinking, waiting for him to say the first word. You and Ghost’s silent staring match ends with Ghost sighing and speaking up. “How does your… leg feel?” “How do you think it feels?” You ask, deadpan, watching as Ghost’s eyes narrow. You blink at him for another moment before adding on, “It feels numb, right now.” Ghost hums at the actual answer and sits there awkwardly for another moment before stating, “Gaz thought you died. Or, were gonna die.” “I heard about that,” You respond, raising an eyebrow at Ghost, “Did he not know it was just my leg that got hurt?” “Hurt is a mild word,” Ghost mutters, before clearing his throat and saying, “No, he knew. He was more worried about all the stuff that got into your lungs.” “Oh.” “Yeah.”
You both stay silent for a bit, again, before you speak up, “So… are my lungs okay, or… ?” “No, yeah, they’re fine.” “That’s… good.” “Mhm.” Why is this so awkward? You purse your lips and turn your head back so that you’re staring at the ceiling rather than at Ghost, not knowing what to say. Why’d he even come in here if he was just gonna be awkward about this whole thing? It’s silent again, an uncomfortable sort of quiet that’s silent yet deafening at the same time—and you hate it. It seems Ghost hates it too, because he shifts in his seat, not saying anything verbally but you can tell by his body language it’s awkward for him too.
This goes on for maybe a minute or two, when suddenly Ghost gets up and walks the short one step between him and your bed and leans down to hug you. Like the silence, the hug is awkward, but unlike it, it’s comforting. A comfortable awkward? You tentatively hug him back and you feel his hands snake underneath your back, forcing his arms under you so that he can hug you properly. 
“I know Soap told you I was stressed and worried and whatnot,” Ghost mutters, his skull mask pressing into your shoulder, “… And he was right.” “… Did you think I thought he was wrong?” “Shut it and let me try to talk.” “Yes, sir.” Ghost sighs and takes a deep breath before continuing, “He was right. I was growing greys watching you passed out, and I think I almost passed out as well, hearing you were trapped under a huge block of concrete and got stabbed by metal.” 
“Did you ever find out what the metal was?” You ask after a moment, making sure he was done talking.
“The Captain said it was a twisted pipe.”
“Huh.” You lay there for a moment, simply enjoying Ghost hugging you, before Ghost speaks up again.
“I know it wasn’t your fault, but please, God, never do that shit to me ever again.”
“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m in a collapsing building.”
“I’m serious,” Ghost pulls away from the hug and looks down at you, keeping his hands on both of your shoulders, “I had to drive a car with you in the back passed out laying in the trunk with Price, all while not knowing what happened, and having to drive you guys back to base.”
“… Damn, you guys didn’t get a helicopter, or anything?”
“[c/n].”
“Sorry.”
Ghost sighs, “I’m trying to say that I don’t like worrying over you like that. I don’t like knowing that my kid is hurt, and I can’t do anything about it. That was the first time I was seriously worried and— and stressed over you, and it was terrifying, seeing you just passed out with dirt all over you and blood all over your leg, and just seeing you like that— I can’t do that again,” Ghost takes a deep breath, and looks down at you, trying to gauge your reaction, trying to see what you think of his words, but all you can think is, wait, he called me his kid?
“You called me your kid,” You dumbly voice your thoughts, watching as Ghost’s expression becomes more confused, and he opens his mouth to deny that when suddenly— oh shit, he called you his kid.
“… I did,” He dumbly says back, sounding surprised by his own words, before he fully realizes what he said and simply blinks down at you, not knowing where to go from here. You both blink at each other, not knowing what to say, before he clears his throat.
“I’ll just… head out then,” He awkwardly says, slowly walking away from the bed.
You take the opportunity to say, “Alright, dad.”
He freezes and slowly turns towards you and mutters, “Don’t call me that.”
A grin splits across your face, “Oh I will. Dad.”
He points at you with a single finger, “Don’t. You. Dare.”
“I’ll call you it in front of everyone. I’ll gaslight them into thinking we’re related.”
“God, you better not.”
“I will. In fact, tomorrow, I’ll begin with the Captain. Then I’ll tell Soap, he’s the next most gullible next to Gaz, who I’ll see right after you. Gaz won’t fight with me over it, he’ll just accept it, I know he will, then, and only then, will I tell everyone else. I spread it across the base like the flu. Everyone, and I mean everyone will think that you’re my father, Ghost.”
“That is…” Ghost blinks at you, dumbfounded and mildly horrified, “... terrifying.” “Yeah, I know. Pretty sure I got that from you, dad.” “Oh my God,” Ghost groans, making you laugh at his misery. He walks out without another word, being sure to slam the door behind him, making the poor medic passing by jump at least a foot in the air. You giggle quietly in your bed, waiting for the next person to walk in. By the time you’ve contained your laughter, Gaz walks in, looking strangely sheepish as he walks over to you and closes the curtains behind him that Ghost had forgotten to close. He doesn’t say anything until he’s right by your bed and bends over to give you a nice, firm, quick hug before standing up straight again and clearing his throat. “Hi,” He greets you simply. “Hi.” “How’s the uh… how’s your leg?” “You thought I died?” You ask teasingly, ignoring his question. You can’t see any blush on his face, but you’re almost certain his face heats up as he looks away from you. “Listen…” He sighs, looking back at you, “Price ran over to the whole group, with you not moving at all in his arms, and a tourniquet wrapped around your calf. I feel like it was a bit reasonable for me to think you were dead for a second.” “Right, of course,” You nod, definitely not believing that he only thought you were dead for a second, “That’s totally why I’ve had both Soap and Ghost tell me you thought I was dead. They only told me that because you thought I was dead for a second.” “I’m gonna murder them both, I swear to—” He mutters, burying his face in his hands, making you laugh quietly. He glares at you from behind his hands and adds on, “Oh, you think this is funny? You having a laugh down there, knowin’ that I thought you were dead?”
“I think this is hilarious.” “You’re insufferable and I don’t even know why I try to care about you anymore.” “You don’t try, you just do,” You roll your eyes, “Don’t act like you have to actively try and care about me.” “You’re so snarky today, my God,” Gaz scoffs, “Wait ‘til I tell Captain Price about this.” “Alright, Draco Malfoy. You do that.” “I shouldn’t have ever visited you in here,” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking away from you, feigning annoyance. You huff out a laugh at that and that makes Gaz laugh a bit, though he keeps up his dramatics, continuing to look away from you. “You still think I’m dead now, or?” “Shut it, you.” “My bad.” “I wish they amputated your leg.” “No you don’t.” “…” Gaz can’t even argue with it, simply sighing and rolling his eyes before looking back at you, ”No, I don’t.” “I knew it,” You smile at him knowingly, making his lips twitch up into a smile. You think for a moment before tacking on, “Wanna hear what Ghost said to me?” That makes Gaz perk up and immediately reply, “Oh, absolutely.” Cue you both five minutes later, Gaz gaping at you while you laugh every other word, remember the horror on Ghost's face when he realized what he called you. Gaz covers his mouth with his hand, laughing into it, gripping the rail of your bed with his other hand, keeping himself up.
“He— oh my God,” Gaz laughs, trying to keep quiet so Ghost wouldn’t hear him, knowing the latter was right outside the medbay. He takes a deep breath and another before breaking into small giggles once again, making you do the same. After maybe a few more minutes of just pure laughter, Gaz manages to catch his breath and stop laughing, and you do the same. “I should probably head out now,” He says, sounding almost disappointed by the fact, glancing over at the closed curtain a few feet away from your bed. You nod in understanding and don’t say anything in response, making Gaz look back at you and add on, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow though, yeah?” “Yeah,” You confirm, making Gaz offer you a warm smile and lean down to hug you tightly one last time before getting up and walking over to the curtains, sliding them to the side and walking out, sliding them closed behind him. You hear the click open and shut of the door, as well as Gaz’s footsteps walking outside of the medbay and eventually fading into nothing.
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peterparkersnose · 1 year
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Lovers and Love.
pairing: Joel Miller x reader
word count: 2.4k
warnings: pregnancy (if you don't like don't read), descriptions of morning sickness, anxiety, angst, illusions to sex
a/n back to your regularly scheduled program i dont wanna hear it i don’t write pregnancy stories often (i say this with a modern day au pregnancy joel fic in my drafts). literally my third in a year (back during my wattpad days I would solely write pregnancy stories. ew). i really like how this turned out though, the length is good
summary Y/N tries to hide that she is pregnant and Joel finds out
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read time: 8 mins 47 seconds
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“What’s filling that pretty head of yours lately?” Joel asked between each chop of the wood.
“Oh, nothing.” you lied.
“You looked mighty focused on that rock just a minute ago.”
“Better than looking at you chopping wood,” you scoffed sarcastically, getting Joel’s scent off your trail.
What you were really thinking about? The last time you got your period.
Each swing of the axe made you cringe. You begged to think of something different, but the thought had filled your mind for the past few days when your expected period didn’t arrive.
You and Ellie had swept out an old convenience store about a month ago. Ellie found some period products and gave some to you and it made you think.
When was the last time you got your period?
Ever since you were a child you dreamed of being a mother. Raising a family with someone you loved. But when the world fell to cordyceps, that idea was quickly left in the past with every other hope and dream you ever had.
This was no environment for an adult, let alone a child. A baby was an absolute no. The constant crying would attract any creature in a mile radius. It wouldn’t get the proper nutrition babies needed to grow. And giving birth in this world was a borderline death sentence.
And your baby’s daddy? The man you had been hooking up with on the low.
He was meant to move the cargo. You assisted the cargo and made sure it behaved.
It wasn’t your fault when Ellie was captured by David and you and Joel had to hide out in a shed one night alone.
Or maybe that time Ellie went out hunting.
Or the time Joel had to cover your mouth and tell you to shut up because she was asleep in the next room.
You knew Ellie wasn’t a dumb kid, but you were just praying she wasn’t that smart.
But pregnancy tests were nonexistent. Most of them you assumed would be expired. Can pregnancy tests even expire? And condoms, come on. It would honestly be funny if Joel pulled one out as a joke. There was no way any of those were still in use at least five years after the breakout.
“Y/N!” Joel yelled, catching your attention. The volume of his voice caught you off guard. “What’s wrong with you, seriously?” he scoffed, flipping his axe in his hand.
Brushing him off, you helped him carry wood into the small abandoned cabin you had found for the night.
Ellie was sitting on the matted couch with her leg resting on top of the coffee table in what was left of the living room. If you squinted, it looked almost normal. No clickers, no cannibals, just a normal world, a normal Ellie sitting in a normal house.
You needed to quickly get the idea of a normal world out of your head. It wasn’t here anymore. You couldn’t hope and dream like you used to. It wasn’t the time for fantasy land anymore. This was serious shit.
“Thank god, I am fucking freezing!” Ellie announced, rubbing her hands together.
Joel dropped his few planks of wood on the ground. “I’m gonna go look for some blankets and supplies upstairs. Ellie, help Y/N with the fire.”
Ellie groaned and slammed her feet on the floor one by one from the coffee table dramatically. You could already imagine the eye roll she had just given him.
You began arranging the logs into a nice stack. Joel had cut enough to easily last you through the night and maybe into the morning.
“You doin’ okay?” Ellie asked, searching through her backpack for the matches. “Mhm,” you lied, watching her scratch the match and throw it in the dry fireplace.
“Joel said something about-” “It doesn’t matter what Joel said.” you cut her off. Ellie rested back on her legs. She was very obviously disappointed you wouldn’t tell her what was wrong.
Was it really that obvious?
“What did I say now?” Joel asked from the banister. He was carrying blankets in his hands he found in the bedrooms. He had a big smile plastered on his face that only widened when your eyes met his.
Just imagine how he would be. Carrying down blankets for you and your child to make a fort together. Making popcorn and watching a movie as the sky became dark. The child would fall asleep in your arms and the two of you would stare at each other and appreciate the world, the life you made together.
You broke eye contact with him and shook your head.
How could you let yourself think like that?
“That I was the best clicker killer in the group.” Ellie made up, lightening the mood. “Oh really now?” Joel chuckled, throwing all of the sheets down on Ellie.
“Oh thank god, warmth.” she sighed, wrapping herself in as many blankets as she could hold.
You snatched a blanket from Ellie with a smirk and moved in front of the fire. You saw the sun setting from one of the still intact windows. Joel made the bold move of laying directly next to you. Normally you would have been so touched by this little bit of public affection (even though the definition of public, for now, was just Ellie), but you were so exhausted by your mind games from the day that you couldn’t care less.
Ellie curled up next to you. She moved into your chest, wrapping her arms around one of yours. Poor Joel, Ellie got all your affection tonight after all.
After a few minutes, she was asleep.
“You wanna meet upstairs in a bit? Tell her your takin’ a piss or something.” Joel whispered in your ear. His wide hand touched your back, making you tense. He was craving your touch you could tell. It had been a few weeks since your last hookup. “No. Not tonight,” you whispered back, pulling Ellie closer.
“Hey,” he said in a low tone. You turned your head to look at him. “What’s really goin’ on?”
“Nothing,” you lied. “I know when your lying.” he sighed. “Joel, drop it.” you hissed.
Ellie’s head looked up at yours. You felt the movement and immediately reacted.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. Go back to sleep now,” you said sweetly to her, brushing her hair to the side of her face. You could tell Joel noticed how you called her baby girl. That’s what he called her.
“What’s happening?” she asked groggily. “Nothing important. Now back to sleep. We need our energy for tomorrow.” You gave her a reassuring kiss on the top of her head.
Ellie nodded and resumed back to her sleeping spot in your arms.
Joel now sat against the couch, watching the two of you interact.
After a moment of silence to make sure Ellie was asleep again, he spoke.
“You would make a great mother one day.”
Your head whipped around and the look on your face said it all.
“With Ellie ‘n stuff. Sorry,” Joel muttered, rubbing his hands down the front of his jeans nervously. The man never usually let his guard down and say vulnerable things like that and you could tell he was disappointed by your reaction.
“Good night Joel,” you said sincerely. He was right. Ellie was like a little sister to you.
On the brink of sleep, you heard him throw another log on the fire. Blankets shuffled and there was a defining silence. Then the thought hit you.
There was no way he knew, right?
-
The faces matched so perfectly but yet were so different. Joel stood in a kitchen, the kitchen in the house you grew up in. You followed the scent of some sort of food and wandered into the kitchen. Your balance seemed off to you. Looking down, you were met by a large bump. No toes could be seen.
“Mama!” you heard. Your head whipped around to the kitchen table. It was the same oak as you remembered it. A baby sat in a high chair. It had curly (your color hair) and Joel’s eyes. It scared you how fast you recognized his features. Unremarkably, they were copied onto the baby's face. “Come on now, eat your breakfast,” Ellie said, encouraging the child. She appeared next to them with a spoon in her hand, making airplane noises as the child laughed.
“Ellie! Did you finish your homework?” Joel asked her. The oh-so-familiar groan escaped from her lips.
“Yes… maybe…” she began to say as the dream began to fade.
You shot upright, breathing heavily. Then the feeling arose from your stomach.
“Y/N?” Joel asked, shielding his face from the sun rays displaying over his eyes. He watched you run to the kitchen that was left of the living room.
The kitchen sink was the victim of your vomit.
Joel quickly stood up and went to your side. His hand returned to its spot from the previous night.
“It’s okay,” he said. You could tell he was trying to calm you, but it also sounded like he was trying to calm himself.
Tears began to roll down your cheeks as the vomiting came to an end.
“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. “No, no. Stop, you have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Joel… please,” you stuttered. You embraced him. His surprisingly warm figure held yours tightly. “It’s okay,” he said again.
“You want to try to go back to sleep?” he asked you. Hesitantly, you shook your head yes.
Thank god Ellie was a deep sleeper when she had been asleep for a while. You could just imagine her putting the puzzle pieces together and announcing it without a second thought. She is a smart girl.
Joel held you on the wood floor. The two of you didn’t care if Ellie woke up to find your embrace. Sleep didn’t return to you, but a sense of peace did. You forgot about the world, the pregnancy, the cold, and the anger for just a moment. It was just you and Joel. The way it should be.
-
“Good morning Mom and Dad,” Ellie said, poking her foot into your shoulder.
Your eyes fluttered open from their relaxed state. “Go find some breakfast and shut it.” you hissed at her. Joel adjusted his hold on you, sighing in your ear.
“Some kid, huh?” he whispered.
“Tell me about-”
“Eugh! What the hell happened here?” Ellie yelled from the kitchen.
“I got food poisoning. Leave it,” you yelled to the kitchen, coming up with your best lie.
“Before we leave you should look upstairs. I thought I saw some clothes you might like. Warmer for the winter too,” Joel grunted, sitting up straight and stretching his arms behind his back.
Using the coffee table to help you up, you trotted across the cold floor and made your way upstairs.
The first bedroom was empty. The second had a few long sleeve tee shirts and a pair of jeans that would fit you. At least for now. You picked up a sweatshirt for Ellie and a book she might like.
The third bedroom seemed to be a children’s room. You were going to look for something smaller for Ellie, but when you opened the first drawer you were met with rows of baby clothes.
Your hands ran over the patterns on the onesies. A baby girl had lived here. Your heart ached as you tried not to think about what her fate had possibly been.
You opened another drawer and it was filled with baby shoes. The memories of swooning over the baby shoes at the store when you were younger filled your mind. The memory of little Y/N mentally picking out which shoes her baby would wear one day warmed your heart.
Opening the top drawer again, you looked through the clothes. You let yourself choose four, one for each season. Easy enough to keep hidden in your backpack. You were too busy looking at the clothes to notice Joel leaning against the doorframe.
You only noticed him when you turned to put the clothes into your backpack.
Audibly gasping, you dropped your bag on the ground along with the onesies.
“I… I-”
“Don’t,” Joel sighed. He bent down and grabbed your bag along with the baby clothes.
“You really thought I didn’t know?” he chuckled, slowly opening the zipper to your backpack.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, face burning red. It’s all you could manage to say. Your brain felt numb.
“No, Y/N. It takes two, remember?” he smiled, holding up a onesie in front of him.
“Been a while since I’ve done this,” he chuckled, beginning to fold the clothes. You stared at him astonished.
He was taking this news surprisingly well. You expected him to leave you somewhere, or even worse. The fact that he was smiling and folding clothes for a baby in this world was shocking.
“How did you know?” you asked him. He gave you the side eye and smirked. “I know your body like the back of my hand. I just have to close my eyes and…”
Joel closed his eyes and the stupidest grin grew on his face.
“Stop it!” you blushed, giving him a playful slap on the arm. “I notice things, darling,” he said, assuring you everything was right.
“How long have you known?” you asked him. You nervously dragged your finger across the dresser’s carved pattern. “Week maybe. Figured it was either that or you were hidin’ a bite. I prayed you were pregnant instead of bitten.”
“You also were avoiding me as much as you could,”
You looked at your shoes. “I really just didn’t want to think about… you. This.” you admitted.
“I’m not mad, sweetheart. Pick a few more, I have room in my bag.”
You opened the drawer again and went for your second pics.
“Your not mad?” you asked him. “I’m not thrilled. When I figured it out it wasn’t fun. But now…”
“What about now?” you asked him. Joel sighed.
“If I heard right…” he began.
“My shithead little brother has started a settlement up in Jackson.”
“Tommy?” you asked, folding a pair of baby shorts. “Get ‘sum them shoes too,” Joel muttered, pulling at the handle of the drawer.
“Jackson’s about a few day ride from here. I can't guarantee he’ll be happy to see me but it’s our best hope.” he assured you, placing his hand back on your back. This time you accepted his touch and pushed back on it.
You both agreed that would be the next step in your journey.
“Any name suggestions?” he asked you, handing you back your backpack.
“Jesus Joel, I haven’t even thought about that.” you said, swinging it on your back.
“What about Ellie Junior?” you heard her ask from the hall.
You and Joel made quick eye contact and then looked back at Ellie. Your mouth fell slightly open. The fear expressed over your face, you were basically a deer in headlights.
She walked into the bedroom with a shameful look on her face. “I wasn’t trying to listen I promise. This house seems to echo.”
The t
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grippingbeskar · 1 year
Note
Ok so, i ADORE your writing and i wanted to submit a request for a joel miller x reader fic ^^
Specifically its the readers first time out of the qz since 2004, she snuck out on her own and was found by joel in the woods. She slightly pisses him off because she can be somewhat annoying but he eventually falls for her! You can go anywhere you want with it but please add that she calls joel “cowboy” bc i find that to be so cute
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warnings: swearing, slight mention of past violence
a/n: okay this isn’t edited but i wrote it all in one go cause it’s so damn cute. i couldn’t help it. thank you for sending this in!!! i hope you like it! clearly i needed a lil fluff now that there’s no more tlou eps so i hope it’s what u wanted 😭
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“You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Joel’s gruff voice growls from behind you. “Stop moving.”
“Stop talking! You’ll scare it!” You whisper-yell back, scootching your body forward on the rock. “Oh, you have to come down here.”
“I’m not gettin’ anywhere near that thing.” Joel huffs, and you roll your eyes, unable to bother with a reply when you can see what you can in front of you.
A bear. A giant, fluffy, brown bear. Standing on its hind legs, clawing at a tree trying to get… something down off the branch. It’s the first time you’ve seen a bear. The first time you’ve seen anything alive bigger than a dog. It’s massive.
“Joel, come on! Look at how adorable it is!” As much as he complains, you can hear him groan as he leans down, knees cracking and breath puffing out in clouds. He eventually crawls up next to you, the broad length of his body pressing against your side on the narrow face of the rock.
The bear was now rubbing its back on the newly scratched bark, roaring quietly as it yawns. The sun was shining seamlessly through the trees, and the forest was just starting to lose the heavy layer of snow that had built up over the winter. Warmth flooded your body from your toes to your ears, but you couldn’t figure out if it was the rising sun or the way Joel had sidled up a little closer, craning his neck so he could see, too.
He leans to the right, squinting into the open forest, and yes— it was definitely just Joel making you sweat.
“See? Cool, right?” You say softly, keeping your eyes on Joel’s reaction. It had taken so long for him to speak to you in any capacity, let alone indulging your curiosity with something like this. You were still hesitant to upset him, or piss him off, but he didn’t seem to be either of these things much anymore. At least, not directed at you.
“Yeah, alright. It’s pretty cool.” He admits, watching as the bear roars a little louder. All of a sudden, three tiny balls of fluff crawl out of a hollow log and begin to roll around in the melting snow.
Your face lights up, you can tell it does. Your grin stretches across your face embarrassingly big, but— “Oh my god. Baby bears. Freakin’ baby bears, Joel!”
He laughs quietly, and you can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t dare move. Even though him staring at you burns you enough you’d swear it wasn’t winter, you keep your eyes forward. The last thing you want to do is scare him off— not when he’s the closest he’s ever been.
You know he wouldn’t feel the same, but it was impossible not to have some kind of feeling for him. He was practically a knight in shining armour to you— without him, you would of died the day you snuck out of the QZ. But there he was, scowling and buried under layers of warmth, layers he’d reluctantly shared with you until you could feel your fingers again. He’d saved you, and you had fawned over him ever since.
He was definitely not on the same page— it was only in the last few months that he’d learned to tolerate you, and somehow it was only making your crush worse. Those famous scowls turned to smirks and hidden smiles, and harsh words melted away into something like fondness. You could hear the care behind the orders he gave you. “Don’t do that” shifted into “Its not safe.” “Shut up” was whispered into a soft “Shh. Listen.”
It might not seem like a lot, but in terms of Joel, it was miles.
The bears continued to roll around, play-fighting while their mother wandered further over to the rushing lake. You shivered as the sun disappeared behind the clouds, and Joel’s hand tugged at your jacket.
“Come on. We gotta get moving.” You sighed, but still smiled as the smallest of the bears attempted to climb a tree, and fell off with a ‘plop’ into the snow. “You’ll be warmer if we’re moving.”
“Just a little longer. Look at him!” The bears continue to fight their way up the tree unsuccessfully, and you wait for Joel to move away. You silently beg him not to, and maybe it works, because he keeps still. No, not still.
Blink and you miss it, but you don’t. You feel him move— just an inch, but he comes closer to you. Touching you all down your side. It stops your shivering, and you find it very, very hard to focus on the bears.
 ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Just a little longer. Look at him!” You laugh lightly, your head facing forward in the direction of the bears. Joel can’t take his eyes off you, no matter how cute some bears might be. It was humiliating. He couldn’t take his eyes off you for a second, not when you were this close, smiling and laughing. You made him feel… good. Warm. Made him forget where he was for a second. It was dangerous and stupid, but he still didn’t take his eyes off you.
He moved closer under the guise of keeping you warm, but he noticed the way you hid your face from him. He always noticed. He wasnt game enough to think you wanted him like that, but he knew he had some kind of effect on you. You didn’t want him, but you needed him. He kept you safe, and he thinks that after all this time you, for some god damn reason, cared about him.
He couldn’t tell you why. He was a dick to you ever since he found you. Sure, he’d pulled you out of the snow and warmed you up for three days. Fed you boiled soup and water and made sure you didn’t choke, but he made sure you paid for it when you woke up. He was colder than the snow outside, sometimes straight up ignoring you when you asked him dumb questions.
He felt guilty now, thinking back, but he was in a bad place. It was dark without you, but since you’d wormed your way into his heart, he could hardly remember what it was like not to have you around. He sure wouldn’t be crammed on a rock watching bears roll around in snow, but he couldn’t think of another place he’d want to be.
“You’re still cold.” Joel says after a while, noticing the way your hands clench and unclench under your gloves. It’s something you’ve done to warm up your fingertips since he’d found you. Your hands get cold first.
“No, I’m not.” You say, eyelashes fluttering rapidly to blink away the fallen snow. “Okay, I am. But where are you gonna see something like this again?!”
“The woods. Where we are gonna walk through for the next two days.” Joel says, and though you stop smiling, you finally turn to look at him. You shake your head, rolling your eyes.
“You cannot tell me that is not the fucking cutest thing you have ever seen. They are rolling around in little balls, Joel. Tiny bears rolling around in the snow!” Your hand grabs his jacket, and he freezes up. You’ve touched him only a few times— times he thinks of far too often, but it still makes him feel like a deer in the damn headlights.
“It’s adorable. Can we move now?” You roll your eyes again, but for some reason you always smile at him after. Like he’s funny or something.
“Fine, but you’re missing out, cowboy.”
“I’m not a cowboy.” He says between huffs as he drags himself upright. He offers you a hand, brushing off the snow from his jacket with the other. You take it, and a rush of heat nearly melts the snow on his head.
“You wore that hat. You’re a cowboy.”
“I wore that one time.” He reminds you to no avail, and you laugh, walking in line next to him.
“It looked good! I think you should lean into it. You got the whole accent going on, and the chivalry act. It’s a winner!” You tuck your arms into the straps of your backpack, your shoulders brushing his. He doesn’t move away.
“Chivalry, huh?”
“You did save my life. Multiple times. And taught me how to shoot a gun.” He scoffs. You thought that was chivalry? Fuck, if only you knew how he’d really treat a woman— how he’d treat you if you aren’t stuck out in these woods.
“Yeah, perfect first date. Learn how to shoot a rusty old rifle.” Joel jokes, and then feels you stop, boots crunching in the snow.
“That was a date?” Wide eyed, you stare up at him, the space between you feeling further than ever and way too close.
“What… I didn’t mean it like—“Joel sighs, taking a step forward. “Thats not what I meant.”
“Oh. Yeah, I knew that.” You shake your head, snow falling off your beanie. It nearly comes loose, and when you walk up next to him, Joel moves before he can think.
He can’t stand that little look in your eye, the one he used to see all the time. It was hurt— hurt caused by him. You’d had enough of that in your life. Joel wasn’t going to be the cause of it anymore. Not when you were the woman he— the woman he cared about.
His hands tug lightly on the sides of your beanie, and you still under him. Your eyes watch him cautiously as he adjusts it on your head and over your ears, and then lets his hands linger. They wander down, still gloved, along your cheeks, wiping away the snowflakes resting on your cheeks. He takes in a breath, and his chest touches yours. When you smile softly, he feels sucker punched, and his hands slowly fall from your face.
“I didn’t mean that.” Joel says in the same low tone he uses when you talk at night, like it’s a secret.
“The date, or the backtracking?” You were still smiling, and it cut Joel up like a blunt knife was searing into his heart. You were fucking painful, but he yearned for it.
“The… both. That— at the time, that wasn’t a date. But that’s not sayin’ I wouldn’t take you on one.” Your face was full of surprise— eyebrows raised and mouth agape. “One with less guns.”
“Joel…” You breathe, and he wishes he kept his hands on your face.
He lets the confession sit, unsure of what to do with himself now he’s put it out there. He’s got two days alone with you in these woods before you reach Tommy, and he’s fucked if he’s gotta deal with your rejection—
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with less guns.” You say, clearing the distance between you and him in three bounding steps. “I’m excited to see what you come up with, then.”
“You, uh—“
“Though I am expecting you to break out the hat. I want the full experience.” He can hear the smile in your voice, his head dropping down so you can’t see his matching one.
“I’ll make sure I do that, darlin’.” Your breath hitches, and it’s your turn to hide from him.
You both keep walking, though Joel feels himself pressing closer and closer. His heart is racing, and he’s half worried he’s going to pass out, his vision a little blurry. Did he just ask you out? He feels like he missed it. Just blacked out and someone else took over. Not just that, but he thinks you might have just said yes.
“You do look good in that hat. I was serious.” You admit, staring at your boots. Joel feels his face get hot, unfamiliar territory making his hands shake.
“You’re insane.” He manages, and links his hand with yours.
“Whatever you say, cowboy.”
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wonwoonlight · 1 year
Text
chocolate rum cookies | jeon wonwoo
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➝ Wonwoo x Reader
➝ nonidol!au // friends with benefits to ?? // fluff // ...slice of life? // angst if u squint
➝ word count: 3.5k~
➝warning: no smut scenes but there are mentions of sex and implications of it so minor dni!! mentions of alcohol, food, curses. very self indulgent bc i write this for my birthday hehe. this wonwoo made an appearance <3
➝A/N: hi. so this wasn't exactly... planned. i was just randomly sitting down with my google doc open and suddenly i finished writing... this in one day. gotta say that, when you do write for yourself, it is much easier to write and it's been quite some time since i'm actually happy with what i put out. but also just to put it out there, this fic is actually finished somewhere before february ended but i decided to post it for my birthday because i did start writing it with the thoughts 'i miss wonwoo' and 'i kinda wanna post smth on my bday' so. enjoy. i'm happy to say i'm content with how this one turns to be. here's to turning 25 lol
[✾✾✾]
You hear the door open, signalling Wonwoo’s arrival, and when you feel his presence nearby, you don’t even look up from your phone when you say, “No.”
Wonwoo smiles in amusement, irking an eyebrow as he settles next to you. “I haven’t said anything though?”
“You’re gonna ask me out again.” You roll your eyes, already used to his antics. You don’t even pretend to care about his mock heartache anymore when he clutches his chest.
You’re not sure what Jeon Wonwoo has in his mind, but he’s been asking you out on dates everytime he sees you since last month. Problem is, you see him a lot. A little hard not to with the friends with benefits situation that has been going on between you and him for the last six months.
Even right now, you’re in his place. You’ve been here since almost half an hour ago, entertaining yourself as you wait for Wonwoo to get home because he’s out when you called, and when he said you’re allowed to use the access he’s given you some time ago, you decided to barge into his place like it’s your own.
You’re practically here more often than in your own dorm, anyway.
It almost feels like a second home to you.
But you don’t want to think too much about it. Not about the fact that you have access to Wonwoo’s place. Not about the fact that you’re basically exclusive. Not about the fact that you talk to him practically everyday.
Nope.
“You don’t even pretend to consider it anymore.” He sighs, and you hate that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You’ve been telling him to cut it out, but it surely doesn’t look like he has any plans of listening to you. “Here, I got this for you.”
Now that catches your attention, and you actually jump a little on the sofa before you take the small package, take Wonwoo’s face in your arms, and kiss him square in the lips as a thank you.
“You won’t go on a date with me but will kiss me over some cookies. Nice,” he grumbles, though the grin blooming into his face when you pull away betrays him.
Clutching the cookie into your chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world, you regard him with stars in your eyes. “Where did you even find this? I’ve been looking for this forever and I couldn’t find it! I don’t even know the name of the shop that sells this?”
“I’m just capable like that.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, telling you he was out with a friend and the packaging looked familiar so he got it just in case. You’ve been telling him about that craving of yours, a chocolate rum cookie that some random classmate offered some time ago–one that is so good but you don’t know the brand, only remember the flavour and the packaging.
And you can’t even ask that classmate again because she was an exchange student that you’ve only spoken for a total of two times in your life, and she has returned to her country.
You don't even know her name.
“You have to tell me where you got this.” The packaging just has to be so empty; a very simple but elegant design that doesn’t state the shop’s name whatsoever.
“Mmm. Perhaps if you say yes I’ll bring you there.”
“No.”
“Hard pass then.” He chuckles and messes your hair. “Eat. I’ll buy you some more if you’re a good girl.”
The innuendo is not purposeful on his part, and it’s two seconds later that he realizes what he’s just said and he cringes so hard that you laugh, because as much as it’s physical between the two of you, Wonwoo absolutely abhors that particular… moniker. It’s always been an on-going joke between you two, and you laugh some more when his frown deepens, launching yourself into his lap and peppering kisses on his jaw.
“You want me to be one?”
“Shut up.” He grunts, though his arms wrap around your waist anyway and he bends his neck to give you more access.
“I can be if you want to, you know?” You whisper against his ear, not missing the way his hold tightens around you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that the only thing separating you and him is the clothes you’re wearing.
“Shut up.” He repeats and kisses you some more. When it gets almost hard to breath, he doesn’t forget to get the cookie out of your grasp and carefully places it on the coffee table before hauling you up and carrying you into his room, your squeal and laughter echoes throughout his empty apartment.
You don’t get to eat your chocolate rum cookie until later that evening, already showered and dressed in Wonwoo’s oversized hoodie as you cuddle into his chest with a movie playing in front of you.
[✾✾✾]
You don’t know what’s taking Wonwoo so long, but he’s already fifteen minutes late without any text messages so you decide you’ll just get some drink first and let loose. He’s probably going to be pissed because he’s never liked it when you go to a bar by yourself (something about men looking at what’s his, whatever that means) but whatever, it’s his fault for being late and you’re currently not relaxed enough to wait for him by yourself in a place full of people. 
The whiskey burns your throat in a pleasant way, though now that you think about it, you shouldn’t have drunk everything in one go when you still have moments to spare as you wait for Wonwoo. But, then again, you can always just order more.
You’ve never been to this bar before, but after hearing how good the vibe is from a friend, you decided to go to check it out. Clubs have never really been your style–people are way too drunk and the music is too loud.
Your friend is absolutely correct when she said you would fit right with this particular bar; there are just enough people for it to be crowded but not really crowded that you get dizzy. Plus, the music is up to your taste and you find yourself nodding to whatever’s playing in the background as you scan through the sea of people while you lean on the wooden bar.
You were just about to order again when someone joins you by the bar, a tall, handsome man that doesn’t look sleazy at first glance. And he’s offering to buy you a drink. You subtly try to check him out; this guy is definitely taller and bigger than Wonwoo, though he doesn’t look harmful and he doesn’t look like he’s hunting for prey. His smile when he offers to pay for your drink looks… honest, if anything. The guy doesn’t even look flirty. Perhaps he thinks you’re interesting and are in need of some company.
The side of your lips lift in an amused smile, Wonwoo will be pissed as fuck if he finds out, but do you care? No you don’t. You’re not going to turn down free drinks from a handsome stranger that doesn’t look dangerous.
“So how come you’re by yourself?” He bends to your height, not too close that it makes you uncomfortable, and just enough for you to hear him over the music. “I’m Mingyu, by the way.”
Hmm. Handsome and with manners.
“Why do you want to know?” You answer with a teasing smile, sipping on your cocktail. Mingyu laughs when you say you’re not telling him his name, if only because he hasn’t earned it yet, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he says it’s understandable and he’s glad you know how to play your cards. “What about you, why are you by yourself?”
“Eh. I just feel like drinking tonight and you seem to be someone who doesn’t mind talking to strangers.”
“Ouch. Is that how I look like? Easy?” You pretend to be offended, and it’s almost cute how Mingyu laughs yet again and rephrases his words. If this was you six months ago, you’d definitely flirt with him and eat up everything that comes out of his mouth, perhaps you’d even end up going back with him. The guy is handsome and you can actually hold conversations with him, which is already a very big difference compared to a lot of guys that have tried talking you up in places like this.
But alas. Your eyes twinkle as you catch the figure of the man who’s the exact reason why you’re not flirting with Mingyu making his way towards you, why you don’t feel the excitement that used to rush through your blood at times like this, and why ‘handsome’ is the only thing you think of Mingyu even though he seems much more than that.
You don’t care enough to think about Mingyu in different aspects.
The way Wonwoo immediately grabs your waist is almost funny, and you have to actually bite your lip and clutch the cocktail glass between your fingers to stop yourself from grinning. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Your boyfriend?” Mingyu asks goodnaturedly–almost concerned, even–making sure he’s not some random guy who’s grabbing you without consent. 
“Yes.” Wonwoo almost growls, and you have to plant your palm on his chest to calm him down, telling him Mingyu is harmless even though your ears are heating up from his word. You’d need to get back to that boyfriend thing later.
Mingyu sends you a look, and you’re absolutely, thoroughly would’ve swooned if you’re… uh… single (you are) and you’re not seeing… anyone (huh?). But you send him a smile, an actual smile this time, and you nod before you tell him it’s nice meeting him.
Wonwoo refuses to look at the interaction, but you can tell that he’s more relaxed than he was seconds ago and his grip on your waist is now replaced with his thumb caressing you through the material of your dress.
Would it hurt to push his button one more time?
“Hey.” You call to Mingyu once again when he’s about to leave, making both guys turn to you in confusion–Wonwoo more so in betrayal–and when you tell him you’d love to see him again someday and finally tell him your name with a wink, Mingyu gets exactly what you’re playing at. Another laugh bubbles out of his throat and he returns the gesture with a ‘have fun!’ before making his way out of your sight.
“What the fuck was that?”
It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and you know you’ve pushed just enough of his buttons for him to react this way. If anything, though, adoration fills your chest and you have to physically hold yourself back from squeezing his cheeks.
“What? You were late and he accompanied me. Nice guy, right?” You try to play innocent, placing your glass on the bar and turning in his arm to face him. He looks especially nice today, with his hair styled a little and a denim jacket that you haven’t seen him worn before. You can feel your heartbeat picking up the longer you stare at him, and you don’t register what’s coming out of his mouth because you’re lost in your head.
Your eyes fall to his lips, and it’s when he clicks his tongue that you finally look back at him, eyes meeting his in mock innocence.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?”
You shake your head to confirm his suspicion. The guy can't even get mad at you even if he wants to.
“So.” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow in question, urging you to continue. “Boyfriend, huh?”
Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t give him room to talk more because you already dive into his lips, your palms on his shoulders and his arms wrap around you once again–probably muscle memory at this point. There’s no rush in this kiss though, you really just feel like kissing him and you do exactly that. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind either, because his lips chase yours when you’re about to pull away.
“Won I–”
“Hmm?”
“I need to–”
“Mmm.”
“Need to–”
“To what?” He finally pulls away, annoyed that you keep on trying to pull away. Even in the dim lighting of the bar, you can tell that he’s a little flushed too and there’s something about it that makes your heartbeat speed up once again. Were you two just… kissing in a public space for no reason at all?
“Need to breathe, baby.” You finish your sentence, suddenly shy now that you’re looking at each other. You dive into his neck before he catches your embarrassment though, and he simply chuckles before he takes a sip of your drink, whatever annoyance in his chest from looking at you and Mingyu, whoever that guy is, disappears just like that.
God, it’s not funny how whipped he is for you.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing.”
“Let’s go on a date.”
“Not a chance.” You beam, though you reject him with a kiss on his cheek and you tell him to finish your drink because you don’t feel like being here anymore. You won’t let him ponder too long on your rejection though, your fingers caressing his neck and your lips finding his ear. “Actually, let’s go back to your place. I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”
Wonwoo shudders a little at that, still not used to the way you’d get vocal about what you want when you’re tipsy. That’s your code of saying you want to have rough sex all night–or however he would have you, really.
So Wonwoo finishes your drink in one go and grabs your hand to pull you out of the bar, missing the way you exchange grins with Mingyu as you accidentally catch his eyes before you exit the place.
[✾✾✾]
“You know you’ll spend less money if you just tell me where to buy these cookies?” You pout, still trying to get it out of him.
He doesn’t relent though, simply shrugs and places your hot chocolate on the table. “I don’t mind buying you things.”
“But whyyyy.” You whine, crossing your legs to face him on the sofa.
“I told you I’d bring you there if you go on a date with me.”
You stare at him, mind wandering to how easy it is for him to say this over and over again. You still don’t know why he’s suddenly so adamant about that, and while you actually do feel butterflies in your whole body everytime he does it, sometimes you wonder if he’s just messing with you.
Does he really mean it?
But if he does, wouldn’t he eventually be done with you because you keep on rejecting him?
But if you say yes and he’s actually just joking–what does that make you?
What if you try it out and it… messes things up?
You’re happy with whatever you have with him now, and you trust each other enough to know you are exclusive. Is there really any need to put a label between you two?
“Hey, you okay?” He asks, snapping you out of your daze.
“Huh. Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”
You see the way Wonwoo presses his lips together and you can tell the gears are turning in his head. But he beats you to it before you can ask, and your heart breaks a little at how soft he sounds.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“What? No!” You sit straight, taken aback from the sudden turn of the conversation. “What makes you say that?”
Wonwoo sighs and repeats his words. But he faces you this time and, for the first time since he asked you the question he’s been asking you the past few months, it’s obvious how unsure he is, as if he’s suddenly questioning himself on what he’s been doing.
“Am I making you uncomfortable by asking you out on a date?”
“Oh… Wonwoo…” You take his hand, your desire to comfort him bigger than anything. You don’t like seeing him like this, and as much as your own thoughts have been haunting you, you suppose you do need to talk about it one way or another. “No, you’re not. But… Can I ask you something?”
He doesn’t answer, but you take the way he squeezes your hand as a ‘yes’.
“Why?”
He doesn’t seem to get your question, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean why?”
“Why do you suddenly want to date me?”
It’s almost comical the way he blinks slowly, then repeatedly, like he doesn’t get why you’d ask that. He thinks carefully before he says his next words though, and he mentally winces at what he’s about to say but there’s really no other way to say it.
“We’ve been… sleeping together for, like, six months.” He starts, and his face contorts like the words personally offend him. But the more you listen to him talk about all the things you’ve been doing the past few months, how you’re basically a couple without the title, the more you feel both warm and afraid about however this talk is going to end.
You don’t realize you’ve been holding his hand tighter, but he doesn’t say anything and you realize how protective you actually feel of Wonwoo because it doesn’t sit well with you that he seems to consider himself so small.
“It’s not… sudden. I’ve just finally gathered enough courage to ask you.”
“I’m afraid.” You throw it out there the moment you open your mouth, not sure how to tell him except to just go straight to the point.
“Of what?”
“Falling in love.” You cast your eyes down to where your hand and his are joined. “Of being attached to you.”
For a moment, the air around you seems to tense ten-fold that you’re sure you can cut through it with a knife. But when Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, you brace yourself for more honesty and continue.
“I’m… already attached to you more than I thought I could be with anyone. And it scares me sometimes. What if you leave me? I think I’d be able to cope better if you decide to end things with our current… relationship than an actual one. It scares me.”
You feel his hand letting go of yours, and you panic that he’s finally had enough, but he cups your face in his palms to calm you down, and as much as you’re anxious, you can feel yourself calming under his gaze.
“If you want me to be honest, I think I already like you more than whatever you probably feel for me.” He smiles so softly you almost cry. And when you’re about to refute his words, he gently places his finger on your lips to keep you silent. “And no, that’s not something I want to debate with you. I’m fine with liking you more. I want to like you more than you like me. Will you let me do that?”
You open your mouth to say something–anything, but nothing comes out except for your tears so you simply nod and fall into his embrace. Your tears dry up almost immediately after that, but you sniffle a little as his words echo in your mind. Wonwoo probably doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because you’ve liked him for as long as you can remember. Probably not long after you started your deal with him.
He doesn’t know how you melt every time he takes care of you. How you’d try to stay awake longer after he falls asleep after another night of passionate sex, his arm over your body and your back against his chest, just so you can pretend it’s real between you two. How you’d remind yourself that it’s not real when you wake up in his place even though you’d still drag yourself out to make breakfast for him, willing your heart to calm down when he wakes up moments later, hugging you from behind even though you tell him to move away.
You probably already love him more than he can imagine.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” You ask once you’ve calmed down, getting out of his embrace to look into his eyes.
“Nothing. Why?” He tilts his head, a little confused at the sudden change of topic.
“Let’s go on a date?” You ask shyly, though your eyes immediately cast downwards again once you realized you can’t handle looking him in the eye as you ask him this. But that’s why you missed the way his face blooms into a grin, missed the way his eyes suddenly twinkle brighter than every single star in the universe combined. “I think you promised to tell me where you buy those cookies if I go on a date with you.”
He laughs at that and throws his arms around you, so tight that it hurts a little. But you don’t say anything, happy that you’re here in his arms and a little giddy now that everything’s out of your chest.
Wonwoo pulls away and cups your face once again, then searches for something in your face before he closes his eyes and gives you the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced in your life. A promise. One that says he’s not going to leave and he’s going to try his best to remove every single doubt you have in your mind.
[✾✾✾]
©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.
A/N 2: and for my birthday wish, hopefully i'll get to see you even once in this lifetime.
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slytherinshua · 24 days
Text
MISSION: CHEER UP MY BOYFRIEND
genre. fluff. kinda angsty cause seunghan is sad :( warnings. kinda implied that this is abt the seunghan situation so its angsty :( but a lot of kissing <3 pairing. seunghan x fem!reader. wc. 602. request. no. a/n. im so sick and tired of this i love seunghan sm i miss him sm i cannot stand this skdjksdjks literally seeing cb stuff is breaking me im not gonna be watching any of it but ill probably be writing a lot of seunghan fics so feel free to req other briizes who miss him like me </3
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“That’s it. We’re not doing this anymore.” You announced suddenly, your voice laced with a determination that Seunghan knew meant that you absolutely could not be persuaded away from whatever your mind had come up with.
He hummed a little quietly, waiting for you to continue your thought. To be honest, today was not the best day for him to match your energetic energy. He loved having fun and spending time with you, but maybe it was one particular twitter comment that stuck with him, or the meeting he had been in yesterday that kept dwelling on his mind, his mood had been down since the day started.
You didn’t continue your thought however, and instead snatched Seunghan’s phone right out of his hands. He looked up at you with confused eyes and fallen eyebrows.
“Give it back.” Seunghan pleaded. He didn’t have energy to try and wrestle you for it. Even forming words was challenging at the moment. He felt like he could break down in tears at any second, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to show you how much it was all affecting him. 
“Give it back so you can continue doom-scrolling under your hashtag? Not gonna happen, Hani.” You shook your head firmly. Taking your own phone from your back pocket, you placed both phones in the drawer of the bedside table and shut it. Seunghan watched silently, sinking further into the sheets with a frown on his face.
You brushed off your hands after completing your phone-snatching task, seemingly very pleased with yourself. Seunghan didn’t want to admit it, but seeing you with so much energy despite everything that was going wrong made him feel a little better. A tiny warm feeling in his chest started to bloom, but it wasn’t quite enough to lift his mood completely.
“Now— mission: cheer up my boyfriend, is a go!” You declared, and climbed onto the bed again. Seunghan’s lip twitched, fighting to grow into a smile, but he didn’t let it. He laid still, hands crossed over his chest until you grabbed one of his hands and pulled him closer. He didn’t fight back; he had already decided in his mind that that would just make the situation more miserable, even if he had no energy to match your cheerfulness. 
You pulled him until his head was in your lap, smiling happily that he didn’t protest. He turned so he faced up, looking at you with those dark eyes, waiting for what your next move would be. You simply let your lips curve into a smile before diving down to press a kiss to his nose.
He scrunched it up, his eyes closed from the suddenness of your movement, “What was that for?” He breathed out. He waited for the answer which you never gave, already pressing your lips to his skin again. His forehead, temple, cheek, chin, nose, lips— anywhere you could reach. It felt slightly ticklish to Seunghan, simultaneously summoning butterflies in his stomach. He couldn’t stop the laugh that surfaced when your kisses moved closer to his ear.
You smiled against his skin, “There it is. I missed your laugh so much.” You whispered, pulling back with a fond smile on your face. Seunghan’s eyes widened a little, gazing up with an even fonder look than you. He pulled himself up, one hand on your cheek as he returned your kiss. 
You smiled gleefully, the success of your cheer-up mission being more than you could have expected. All it took was a few simple kisses to bring Seunghan’s smile back— at least for a little while.
↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwo,, @cosmicwintr,, @chiiyuuvv,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore
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mrsaltieri-real · 3 months
Text
First Love, Familiar Love (Billy Loomis x Fem!AFAB!Reader)
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: language, smut, oral, (fem receiving) fingering, p in v, creampie, cheating, (kinda) first love, semi-public sex, light dirty talk, pre-established toxic relationship.
A/N: I’m so happy to have (finally) written my first full length Billy Loomis fic! I’ve done a lot of Ethan and a fuck ton of Mickey, how dare I have taken so long to write for the fine as fuck OG! Going to dabble in some poly!Ghostface soon which I’m very excited about but for now, sit back, relax and I hope you enjoy!
@darklylucid I have a feeling your Billy loving self will get a kick outta this for sure ;)
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You’d never given much thought to relationships since your last. The thought of never having another first filled you with an undeniable sense of unease. No more first kisses, first date, first fuck, what was the point?
Why commit yourself to a long life of repetition when you could simply carry on having firsts? Especially when you couldn’t have the person you’d already had your firsts with anymore.
Billy was someone you hadn’t paid much attention to, not since the two of you had ended your very brief yet even more intense relationship a few years back.
The two of you were young, stupid and each other's firsts. It wasn’t a healthy relationship by any means, and it ended as such. Even though you knew it was definitely for the best, you knew there was a part of you that didn’t think it was over. Not yet.
He was hot, undoubtedly having grown into himself over the years when you’d stopped paying attention, but he had also grown more serious. He constantly looked like he was deep in thought, gnawing on the tip of his pen in class whilst clearly not paying attention on the few occasions you’d find your eyes drifting over to him, seeing him completely lost in his own mind.
You didn’t run in the same social circle anymore, inside of school or out. Although that being the case, your friend and colleague at the video store, Randy most certainly did.
It never made much sense as to why Randy would hang around with the likes of Billy Loomis. Other than their shared affiliation of horror movies, they seemed to merely tolerate each other, if that. You were met with the angry rambling of what Billy had done that day from Randy, listening to the boy curse about how much of an asshole he was.
How could you possibly begin to forget about Billy when he was brought up practically all of the time?
“If he’s so much of an asshole, stop hanging out with the guy.” You’d suggested after a particularly long rant from Randy about him, mindlessly drumming your fingers on the counter.
Randy scoffed, pulling the red vine he was chewing on out of his mouth before replying, “I’ve been friends with the rest of them for years, I’m not just gonna stop hanging out with them because Billy Loomis is a fucking asshole.”
You rolled your eyes, sarcastically holding up your hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, whatever. You go home and chill the hell out, I’ll close up.”
Randy hopped down from the register, patting you on the shoulder as you said goodbye.
Being here by yourself was always better anyway. You liked to clean and organize, finding order in the never ending chaos, but it never surprised you just how messy the store would get by the time closing rolled around. The popcorn machine Randy had recommended to the manager like an idiot needed a thorough deep cleaning, kernels were scattered everywhere, tapes were placed in the wrong section, some of them somehow seemed to be missing altogether.
Fucking mahem.
You heard the tingling of the bell above the door as it swung open. “Sorry, we’re closed,” you called out, not bothering to look up from your sweeping.
The door clicked closed quietly and you briefly paused before glancing up.
Billy stood leaning against the counter, his fingers drumming lightly against the withered old wood. He was quite clearly relishing in your confused expression as you looked back at him with cautious eyes.
“Hey… Billy.” You said, eyeing him briefly. “Randy’s gone home.”
“Oh, I know. I was waiting for him to leave.” Billy picked up a tape that was laying beside him, flipping it over to read the cover.
Your confusion and curiosity continued to grow, but it turned into annoyance when you realised you’d actually have to continue to talk to him.
“That’s kinda creepy.” You muttered, letting the broom rest against a glass case. “We’re closed.” You said again, pointing at the clock.
He didn’t look at it, his eyes flickering up from the case to favour resting on you instead.
“Are you fucking him?”
You looked at him, eyebrows arching a fraction. “Am I fucking who?”
“Randy.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that burst through your lips, shaking your head in disbelief as you grabbed the broom again. You’d forgotten the fucking nerve of this guy. “Go home, Billy.”
You heard the clatter of the tape hit the counter as he began to stride toward you. “So, you are?”
“Yeah, I’m not dignifying that with a response.” He stopped about a foot away, his hand resting on the freshly cleaned glass display with all the rare tapes. “Can you, like, not? I just cleaned that.” You sighed, stepping forward to slap his hand away.
He didn’t move as you did so, seeming to find your reaction more funny than anything. “You haven’t changed much.” He commented, bringing his free hand up to swipe some loose hair out of his face.
You ignored his comment, looking up at him and feeling nothing but irritation. “Billy, what do you want, seriously? Because the sooner I clean up here, the sooner I can go home.”
Billy shrugged, drumming his fingers against the glass. “I don’t know, I was walking home, saw Randy leave, noticed you were by yourself. Thought you’d appreciate the company.”
“Mmhm. Sure.” You sighed, moving to step around him and deciding to just act like he wasn’t there. That’s when it hit you, the all too familiar scent of his cologne. It smelled exactly like the one you’d gotten him for his birthday a couple of years back. The smell rekindled the brief yet fond memories you’d had with him and it made your heart skip a beat.
Billy had noticed your pause and his face turned from indifferent to slightly concerned. He said your name, tilting his head down to look at you.
You looked up at him, blinking a few times before shaking your head. “Go home, Billy.” You said again, though your voice wasn’t anywhere near as confident.
“I miss you.”
Those three words made you flinch, your grip on the handle of the broom tightening. You didn’t want him to miss you, you didn’t want him to be thinking about you. Didn’t he have a girlfriend now?
I asked him as much and he half smiled, shaking his head. “Sidney? Nah, I’m seeing her, sure, but it’s not… like that.”
“Oh, so your girlfriend isn’t putting out so you thought you’d pop along and see if I would?” Billy seemed to ignore you, his eyes trailing across your body. You felt your cheeks heat up as he did, those annoyingly magnetic brown eyes felt like they were boring straight into your damn soul.
“No, like I said I was walking home and saw you by yourself.” His smile grew a touch, watching your face for any kind of reaction.
Liar. But why did you find yourself falling for it?
“I’m not fucking Randy.” You said quietly. He finally looked into your eyes, the half smile turning into a grin. “Oh, I know. But I needed to try and start a conversation with you somehow, didn’t I?“
You caught yourself smiling as you shook your head. “Asshole.”
Billy chuckled as he brought up his hand, letting his fingers glide across your cheekbone. “Missed you.” He said again, his voice much softer this time without a hint of teasing.
Why were you falling for this crap? Was it because he was your first? First fucking everything? Probably. But you caught yourself not caring as you leaned into his warm touch, letting the familiarity wash over you entirely.
“Missed you.” You echoed softly.
His smell was intoxicating, familiar. Who cares if you’d hardly spoken to him in years? Who cares that it took you this long to get over him entirely.
His lips touched yours before you finished your train of thought. Comfortable. Familiar. You felt yourself melt into it, your fingers curling around the soft material of his plaid shirt as you pulled yourself closer to him, his thumb still gently grazing your cheek.
Fuck, he’d missed you. How your lips tasted, how your breath would quiver and shake every time he was close to you. He couldn’t remember why he was ever stupid enough to let you go entirely.
Before he and Stu put their plan into motion, he knew he had to do this, he had to be with you at least once more time. Taste you, touch you, feel you. Because once he was “serious” with Sidney, he wouldn’t be able to lead you on like that. Not you, you were always his.
His kiss turned more possessive than gentle, his hands sliding down to your waist and under your shirt, his blunt fingers digging into your soft, bare skin. He felt your breathing hitch against him as he pulled your body impossibly closer to his, letting you feel him hardening against you.
It wasn’t long before he’d picked you up and placed you on the glass, hoisting your skirt around your waist and carefully pulling your baby pink panties down your legs, letting his fingers brush your inner thigh as he did.
“Fuck, look how fucking wet you are for me.” He groaned, sliding his finger between your velvety folds to collect the moisture before he brought it to his lips. You were pathetically oversensitive, your cunt clenching around nothing the moment he touched you.
He liked that, he’d forgotten how needy you were, how much your body reacted to the slightest of advances. He couldn’t help but smile as he continued to tease, fingers grazing your sensitive skin, barely even touching you.
It dawned on you how long it had been since you’d been touched like this, and you craved more.
“Please, Billy.” You whined, beginning to grow uncomfortable with the lack of stimulation.
For once, he didn’t need much prompting.
His mouth latched onto your aching clit, sucking at it hungrily and growing at your familiar taste he’d missed so much. His hands pushed your legs further apart for better access, feeling how you throbbed against his mouth. Your hands automatically fell into his soft hair, biting your bottom lip as you tugged at it, your head falling back.
He’d been good with his mouth before, but he’d definitely gotten better. His skilled tongue flicked over your clit, one of his hands moving from your thigh to plunge two fingers inside of your cunt as he continued to lick and suck.
“Oh!” You groaned out, fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled his face impossibly closer to you. He curled up his fingers in response, pressing against the spongy tissue and making your body jerk in response. He knew your body far too well, and had clearly never forgotten how to make you respond to him.
He didn’t want you to cum, not yet. He pulled away all too soon, smiling as he saw the all too familiar mixture of turned on and pissed off gracing your features. He straightened up, his hand moving to grip the base of your hair tightly, making you look up into his brown eyes.
“Do you want it?” He asked, voice smooth and even as ever. All you could do was faintly whisper “yes” in response. That’s all he needed.
Billy didn’t drop his eyes from yours as he smoothly unbuckled his belt, pulling it off and discarding it thoughtlessly, his pants coming down shortly after, but only part way down his ass. He just didn’t want to waste any time.
One of his hands dropped to your waist, the other pumped his cock a few times before nestling the tip at the entrance of your aching cunt. You whined softly, wriggling a little only to be grounded by his large hand before he pushed himself inside of your soaked hole.
You couldn’t help the gasp as he filled you, suddenly feeling deliciously full. Familiarly full. He seemed to feel it too, a soft groan in your ear as he pulled you closer to him by your hips.
“Fuck, I’ve missed this cunt so much.” He sighed into your hair, savouring the feeling of your cunt engulfing him for the first time in years. You were growing more and more impatient, needing movement and friction and he chuckled at you desperate movements from under his grounding hands. “I forgot how impatient you are.”
“Billy, just… Fuck me for God’s sake.” You’d meant for it to come out as an order, but it came out as a plea. He chuckled again, slowly rolling his hips back just to snap the forward again sharply, the sensation making you jolt and sigh into his shoulder.
“So bossy, aren’t you, sweetheart? Some things never change, hm?”
You ignore his teasing voice, your focus entirely surrounding how good his cock made you feel so fucking effortlessly. He hardly even had to try and here you were, already a leaking mess for him.
He held you more securely, one of his hands firmly pressing against the small of your back whilst the other swiftly tucked under your knee, holding your leg more securely around his waist as he fucked you.
He knew your body better than you did, he knew what drove you wild. The kisses he scattered across your neck and down your collarbone drove you insane. The way his fingers would dig into your skin, his breathing in your ear, the filth he was whispering to you…
“Fuck, Billy please don’t stop.” You begged him, pushing yourself down against him greedily, which he thoroughly enjoyed. He continued fucking your on the glass display case as he laughed out, “Think I’m gonna? No fucking way. Been thinking about getting back into this cunt for far too long.”
His words made you moan louder, your fingers clinging to his bicep, nails digging into the toned muscle harshly. He let out something akin to a growl, his own fingers digging into your soft skin hard enough to undoubtedly leave bruises in their wake.
He fucked you in a way you feared only her was able to, slamming into your convulsing pussy vigorously, ruthlessly. Your head fell back, eyes beginning to roll as you felt yourself being dragged closer and closer to the edge. Your clit bumped against him with every thrust, the stimulation only making you feel weaker and weaker. He watched your face, the look of pure ecstasy only making him more and more desperate to cum. No way he was about to pull out.
“Billy… Close…” You managed to utter out. In the past, that was his cue to prepare to pull out. But right now? Fuck that. He held you tighter, his fingers sliding from your hip to your clit to drag circles across it, feeling your cunt tense around him as he did.
“Do it.” He said, his own voice a little breathless.
You couldn’t think, could only focus on how fucking good he was making you feel. Your body stuff ended for a second before you came on his cock, your head falling forward onto his shoulder as you heard him let out a loud groan and a second later, his hot cum filling up your still convulsing pussy. But you didn’t care. Your body remained flush against his for a couple of seconds, soaking in the feeling of his cum filling you up so deliciously.
He gradually softened, pulling himself out of your stuffed cunt and casually pulling his pants back up before grabbing his belt.
You remained sitting on the glass case, Billy’s spunk mixed with your own wetness leaking out of you and making a mess of the glass. He couldn’t help but smile, shrugging once.
“Well, shit, you’ve got more of a cleanup to do now, my bad.”
You rolled your eyes at him, waiting for your thighs to stop trembling before jumping down from the display case and grabbing your panties, about to pull them back on before they were snatched out of your hand.
“What are you-“
“I think I should keep them. As a memento, you know?” He interrupted, the stupid smile that got you back into this situation illuminating his pretty face.
“Oh, right. Forgot how much you like to steal my underwear. Weirdo.” You muttered, squirming a little at the feeling of Billy’s cum leaking out of you onto your inner thighs.
Billy watched you squirm for a moment, the smile never faltering. “Mm. You know, I wish I’d cum inside you before. I like seeing you like this.”
You scoffed at him, shaking your head. “I have to clean up.” You said pointedly.
Billy raised an eyebrow a fraction, eyes flickering down toward your stained thighs.
“You’re telling me.”
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theoreticslut · 2 years
Text
「 like she hung the stars 」
steve harrington x fem reader
summary: although you’ve been with steve for nearly a year, you can’t help but wonder if he’s using you as a stand-in for nancy. 
requested: yes
word count: 3.1k
warnings: pretty angsty but it has a cute, fluffy-ish ending; mentions of alcohol consumption & being drunk, insecure relationship, pet names (baby, babe & sweetheart), mention of future relationship, mention of marriage & children
a/n: this request was so cute!! i had to write it asap, & i’m lowkey in love with it if i do say so. it’s really kind of angsty the entire way through, but there’s a cute ending. i really have a hard time leaving a fic ansgty. it’s a weakness of mine. anyways, i hope you all like this! Xx
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It’s been well over an hour since you and Steve arrived at this house party, which has given you plenty enough time to drink your fair share of the spiked punch. It was potent, but it was drinkable, and it got you drunk which is all you wanted. 
You hadn’t ever told Steve that you felt insecure in your relationship, mainly because the reasoning behind it felt silly. He had asked you out a few months after he and Nancy broke up last year, which shouldn’t be of any concern, but you had seen them while they were together. It was clear that Steve loved her - deeper than you’d ever thought possible. 
Having noticed this, you couldn’t stop the thought of him still loving her - even though he was currently with you - from settling in the recesses of your mind. You couldn’t stop the thought from tormenting you late at night, even when he slept beside you.
Within the last few months the thought had only become more incessant, tormenting you not just late at night anymore, but throughout the day as you went about your classes and your clubs, even when you sat around talking with him and his friends. It was exhausting, but you couldn’t easily ignore it anymore. Not when you’ve been finding Steve staring at her more and more whenever she was around. 
Hence why you’re getting drunk off of shitty punch at some house party that you’re not even sure who’s throwing. You were simply tagging along with Steve, and even he had wandered off from you.
At first it was fine, you knew he was popular around school and it had been a few months since he graduated. You figured he was just catching up with old friends and classmates. 
Within the last half hour though, you spotted him chatting with Nancy and her boyfriend, Jonathan. You didn’t want to think anything of it, knowing they were trying to be friends, but as you watch him laughing and smiling at Nancy, you can’t help the ache that settles in your heart.
Not thinking much of it, you find yourself taking a deep breath before cautiously making your way over to the small group. You didn’t want to come off as insecure or jealous, but you couldn’t sit back and watch the scene any longer. Figuring that you’d test the waters by nonchalantly approaching them, you do just that.
Although worried that Steve might get upset with you joining them, you’re relieved when he smiles as you come up next to him. Wrapping an arm around your waist, you let your head rest on his chest as he continues talking.
“No, th-that’s really cool, man. I hope you like it.” Steve comments, replying to something that had been said before you came over.
“Yeah, I-I do. It’s nice. Pays decent enough, you know?” Jonathan mumbles, chuckling awkwardly as Steve nods.
Without even being a part of the conversation you can tell it’s been awkward like this for some time.
“Nance is actually, uh, looking to apply there this summer too.” 
“Really? That’s awesome. I mean, y-you do like journalism. I’m sure it’ll be, you know, a great fit.” Steve mentions, Nancy nodding politely with a terse smile on her lips. 
“‘M gonna get another drink, Steve.” You murmur, wanting to leave the awkward aura of their conversation. That and you really don’t care to hear how much Steve knows about Nancy.
“You’re not done with this one though?” He questions, having noticed your cup was still about half full when you first came over here.
Tilting it to make sure he hadn’t seen it incorrectly, he frowns when he realizes it’s actually more than half full. Only then does he notice just how much you’re leaning against him for support while your eyes are half closed.
“Baby, are you drunk?” 
“No, just tired.” You huff, your speech sluggish as you answer him. 
As you do so, though, you attempt to take a step back to look at him, but you stumble and spill your drink all over yourself.
“Shit. Let’s get you cleaned up, baby. Yeah?” He questions, taking the cup from your hand as he holds you up.
“Sorry guys.” You hear him apologize to Nancy and Jonathan and you can’t help but feel a little hurt.
You know it’s irrational, he’s essentially just excusing the two of you from the conversation, but in your intoxicated state you feel like he’s ashamed of you - like you’re an embarrassment he didn’t want them to see.
As the thought settles in your head, you pay no attention as Steve leads you through the crowded house to find the bathroom upstairs. You don’t even realize you’re in the bathroom until he closes the door behind the two of you, starting to  look for a cloth he can wet and dab your shirt with. 
“I don’t know how you’ve been drinking that punch all night, sweetheart. Shit’s strong.” He chuckles as he crinkles his nose at the smell of the cup as he tosses it out.
“Not that bad.” You mumble, staring at your hands as you sit on the sink counter while he continues searching for a cloth.
“Aha, found it.” Steve smiles, not even acknowledging that you said anything. Truthfully you’re not even sure he heard you, but it doesn’t matter.
You watch as Steve wets the cloth, squeezing the excess water out of it before he brings his attention to you and the stain on your shirt.
“You liked this shirt, too, babe. You gotta be careful.” He comments, voice gentle as he begins to dab at the stain, holding the material away from your body as he carefully presses the wet cloth to it.
You figure he’s just talking to fill the silence so you let him, not worrying about responding.
“‘M not sure how well this is going to come out, but we’re going to try, okay?”
~.~
Steve frowns lightly when he doesn’t hear anything from you. He wasn’t expecting a long answer of any sorts, in fact he wasn’t even expecting a single word, but he did expect a little hum or something from you. 
Bringing his attention to your face, he realizes you’re staring at your shirt as he works, but that your mind is somewhere else entirely.
“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” He murmurs, continuing to work on the material in his hands, using a hand to lift your chin to look at him briefly.
“What’s on that pretty little mind of yours, huh?” 
He can’t stop the small smile that comes to his lips as he glances up at you, taking a moment to realize just how pretty you are sitting here.
“Nothin’.” 
“Nothing? You sure, baby?” He frowns, having noticed how your shoulders dropped when you answered him, not to mention the fact that you started wringing your hands together - a nervous habit of yours.
He doesn’t like the idea of you keeping something from him, especially if it’s something that upsets you. 
“Do you love me?” You suddenly question, voice seeming scared.
“Do I lov-? Of course I love you, y/n.” He splutters, not sure where this would have come from.
“Why would you think I don’t, sweetheart?” 
“You’ve just, you’ve been watching Nancy a lot when she’s around.” You mumble, still wringing your hands together as Steve settles his hands either side of you on the counter, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he frowns. 
He can’t help the ache that begins in his chest as he listens to you already sounding defeated. Scanning over your face, he can’t help but sigh deeper when he realizes you won’t look at him.
“Will you look at me, y/n?”
~.~
You can feel him watching you still as you softly shake your head, being too anxious to do so if he’s going to study you, which you know he will. He may have portrayed himself as an asshole most of his life, but deep down he’s always been a softie, taking great care to notice things about those he cares for. 
He doesn’t like hurting people, which is why he’s so meticulous when it comes to reading others emotions. He doesn’t want to miss something.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her, like she’s the moon on an otherwise dark night. You look at her like she hung the stars in the sky…” you start, needing to get all of this off your chest.
You can’t hold onto the ache any longer without some sort of an answer. You can handle the hurt that would come if he does still love her, but you can’t bear this ache of not knowing if he actually loves you like he says he does.
“It’s…it’s the same way you looked at her when you were dating. When you loved her.” You murmur, feeling your throat tighten up with the threat of tears.
Taking a moment to breathe through the onslaught of emotion, you will the ache of threatened tears to fade away so you can finish your thoughts. You need to tell him how you’ve been feeling, not smother them into coercion. 
“I can’t shake the feeling that you maybe still love her. That I’m just…a placeholder until you can have her again.”
A silence falls in the small bathroom as you get the words out, only glancing up to him to see if he’s still listening. At the extended lull of conversation, you feel your stomach start to twist with dread. 
You had a feeling that you were simply a distraction for him, but you didn’t want to admit it, afraid that if you did it’d make it a reality.
“I’m not going to lie…” he starts, clearing his throat.
“I do still love her, and I think a part of me always will. She woke me up from the dreamworld I lived in for so many years.”
You nod, a fat, unannounced tear falling from your eye straight to your anxiously-tangled hands.
“But I’m with you, sweetheart, and I plan to stay with you until you get sick of me.” He smiles, grabbing one of your hands in his and squeezing to let you know he’s there with you. 
A moment passes without a word before he lifts your chin up with a finger of his free hand so he can meet your eyes.
Finding them filled with fat, unshed tears, he frowns with an aching heart. Wiping the tears away as they begin to fall over your lash line, he brings his lips to your forehead with a soft kiss.
“I am so sorry to have made you feel this way, sweetheart. I never meant to make you feel so insecure in our relationship. I love you, and I don’t ever want you to feel like I don’t.”
“Nancy and I are in the past and I know it. I accept it. I wasn’t what she wanted, and that’s okay. She left me so I could find you, and everyday I’m happier because of it. You make me happy, baby, and I don’t want you to forget that.”
“I-if that’s true, then why have you been watching her so much? Why are you so awkward around her?” You question, sniffling as occasional tears still roll down your cheeks.
“I watch her because I do still love her and wonder what would have happened if things worked out, but I know she’s happy with Jonathan so I let it be. Her and I are done, y/n, I promise you.” 
“If she were to say she still loved you too, would you go back to her?”
“I don’t know.” Steve sighs as you nod, heart feeling as if it’s cracking a little more as you drop your head back down to look at your lap.
“I’m not sure she ever really loved me if I’m honest. I was a shit boyfriend to her, baby, and she realized that. She’s the one who ended the relationship in search of something better, and I don’t blame her one bit. I needed a wake up call and she gave me that.”
“She gave me the push I needed to change myself and be a better person so I can be better to you. I want to be better for you, and I don’t think I could leave you just because of her saying she still loves me. You mean the world to me, sweetheart.”
~.~
Steve simply watches as you nod at his words and he can tell you don’t believe him. He doesn’t blame you, knowing how ruthless invasive, insecure thoughts can be. He especially knows how hard it is to let go of them when you’ve got actions to back them up.
It pains him to think he was feeding into your insecurities of the relationship by watching Nancy. He never meant anything by it. He was simply thinking of the “what if’s,” but he never once thought about leaving you for those daydreams. 
He knows that they’re irrational anyway. Him and Nancy don’t work, and even after he’s bettered himself, he’s positive that it still wouldn’t work between them. 
You and him on the other hand? He can see you two working out. He can see himself marrying you and settling down here in Hawkins - or wherever you want to go. He can see the two of you having children together, both of you running around outside with them with wide smiles on your faces. 
He can see himself making you coffee before you’re even awake only so he can wake you up with it and a kiss day after day for the rest of his life, and he can see himself loving you even when the two of you are old and gray. He can see himself with you, and he only hopes you can see it too.
Watching you sit here, though, heart breaking in front of him on the counter in the bathroom of some long-forgotten house party, he can’t help but feel like he’s screwed everything up. He loves you and yet you so easily believe that he loves someone else.
“Y/n, I love you. I love you more than I ever thought possible, and it honestly scares me.”
He can see you let out a shaky breath even though you’re refusing to look at him. He’s sure his words are simply going in one ear and out the other because you’re already convinced that he doesn’t love you even though he’s been trying to prove otherwise.
“I can see us getting married sometime down the road, you know?” He mentions, voice soft as he lets himself be vulnerable with you. 
Sure he’s been honest with you about everything so far, but he hasn’t been vulnerable. He’s been trying to reassure you with empty words instead of letting you see how he actually feels. 
“I think about our wedding quite often actually,” he chuckles, embarrassed to admit that fact.
“I think of how it’ll be filled with everyone who loves us and wants us to be happy. I think about that first dance we’ll have together, and how I’ll say something cheesy just to get you to smile and laugh as we pretend there’s no one else in the room.” 
“I think about all the planning we’d have to do for it, and how I want to be there for every part of it. I don’t want you to do all the planning and stressing when it’s just as much my day as it is yours. I mean, it’ll be the day I marry the love of my life. How could I leave all the planning for such an important day to one person when I’m the only one who can answer for what I want?”
“I mean, what if you choose seat covers with a bow and I want simple seats with personalized place cards?” He asks, smiling when he hears you chuckle at the absurdity. 
“I can see us sharing that first kiss as husband and wife, and it makes me all jittery inside at the sheer happiness it brings me.”
~.~
“I can see this, y/n. I can see us, and I never once saw it with Nancy.” 
“With Nance, it was more of a ‘I see us sitting at lunch together’ thing than it was a ‘I see us, still married at the age of 85’ thing.” 
You can’t help the little snort that leaves your lips as you think of yourself and Steve at 85 years old. It surprises you, but you find it easy to see the picture yourself. You’ve never thought much about it, too afraid that it’d be getting your hopes up, but you can see yourself marrying Steve and it makes your stomach tingle and your chest feel light.
“All the big stuff, though? I see you at my side for all of it, y/n.” Steve finishes and you take the risk to look up at him.
Meeting his eyes you catch a glimpse of uncertainty within him. He can see this, but he worries that you can’t, and for some reason that’s enough for you to believe him.
Laughing at how pitiful you must look, you wipe at your cheeks before you grab one of his hands, playing with his fingers as he watches you. You love him, and for the first time in a long time you believe that he loves you too.
“Just for the record,” you start, blushing a bit as you think about the words about to leave your mouth and the sheer absurdity of it all.
“I think specialized place cards are a must, and that seat covers with bows are terribly tacky.” 
Looking up at him as you pause your anxious playing with his fingers, you watch as a smile breaks out on his face, wider than you’ve ever seen from him as he laughs in disbelief.
“I love you, y/n. I love you so fucking much.” He smiles, not hesitating to bring his hands up to your jaw as he kisses you fiercely and yet still so soft.
You can feel all the heartache he was feeling at your admission through the kiss, just like you can feel all the happiness inflating him now. He wants you, and you’ve never felt more sure of that fact. 
As he keeps his lips on yours, although the kiss grows softer and more smiley, you feel your heart slowly being glued back together, and you can’t help but smile at the realization that all you needed was a little bravery and honesty in order to feel so secure with him. It’s a new feeling, but one that’s pleasantly welcomed as you let yourself completely melt into the kiss - and into Steve - for the first time since he asked you out.
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omg hihihi!!! im obsessed with the fic you wrote for niki and james and i was wondering if you could write one for ayrton senna? maybe with the reader being his teammate and its their first season and just him falling in love with her? idk tbh. its criminal that theres so little fics of him im obsessed with him currently xx
old money — AS27 x reader
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cw: car crash
note: fr there are no fics about him and he’s one of the most handsome men i’ve ever seen. also i love old f1 vibes
masterlist
When you first met him, you immediately noticed how oddly he was looking at you. You couldn’t get whatever he was thinking, so you just assumed he didn’t like you. For a time. Then one day something changed.
You crashed in Imola. You got out of the car without even a scratch, but the faces of the people when you returned to the paddock with the ambulance made you guess it mustn’t have looked good from the screens.
And there he was. Despite the very few words you exchanged since you knew each other, rushing towards you, none other than the best driver on the grid, your rival and teammate Ayrton Senna.
Brown eyes filled with worry and hair still soaked in sweat, he called your name and took your arms in his hands. “Tell me you’re okay.”
“I– I think I’m okay. I just got scared.” You didn’t know why you were telling your feelings to him, you just didn’t think much about it.
“Me too.” For a moment you thought he was gonna pull you in a hug, but he didn’t. He just softly put a hand on you cheek and then let go of you. “Glad to know you’re well, pequena.”
You found Ayrton standing in front of his Porsche Cabriolet at the end of the day. It was getting dark, few people were still in the paddock to celebrate his victory.
You hurried to reach him before he left. “Ayrton.” He turned around, but you know he was already looking at you from afar. He clearly had a shower because he smelled fresh and the red overalls had given way to a white elegant shirt. “I wanted to congratulate. Also, thank you for worrying about me earlier, you kind of reassured me.”
“No need to thank me.” He made a pause. You wondered if it was time for you to go. “You know, I was going to dinner with a friend but he won’t be able to come. Would you like to join? I have a reservation for two.”
You stared at him, surprised by the invitation, then looked down at your own jeans and blouse outfit. “I don’t know if I’m suited for the situation.”
“You are.” He opened the front seat door for you. “Let’s go.”
The restaurant was a villa in the Emilian countryside. You had never seen such a beautiful place in your entire life.
The dinner went very well. You ate pasta on a table in the garden. There were warm lights that made the location very cozy. Ayrton was so sweet, very different from the fierce man everybody saw on track. You talked about the race, but not only. You learned more about his personal life and viceversa. He asked if you were seeing someone, you shook your head. “And you?”
“Not at the moment, no.”
You thought of the gorgeous girls he was often photographed with. You didn’t believe yourself to be that pretty.
“I’m sorry if I’m not very talkative between one race and the other, I’m just trying to stay professional.” His freckles were as glaring as ever in that light. After his words, you realized you may have misinterpreted his detachment. “But when you crashed today… I don’t know, it seemed dangerous from my point of view. The thought of not seeing you next to me anymore scared me a lot.”
Spelling those words, Ayrton was playing with the glass of water in his hand, his eyes shyly looking downwards. “So I wondered if you’d like to hang out. Outside of work, I mean.”
In his own words, that was a declaration.
“I–“ That was what you wanted since you saw him introducing himself in that conference room, however you knew how risky the situation you were putting yourself into was. But right there, looking up at you with those eyes full of hope, surrounded by that magical place, he was so handsome. “I’d love to.”
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softgreengrass · 1 year
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Sun to Me
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Wednesday Addams x reader
Summary: Wednesday isn't a great girlfriend.
Words: 2.0k
Warnings: none, implied f!reader, reader referred to as girlfriend
Author's Note: angst sorry not sorry. inspired by sun to me by zach bryan,, first fic i've published so any feedback is appreciated!
Pt. 2
When you first met Wednesday, you were absolutely terrified of her. But she had taken an interest in you, from the very beginning, and soon you found yourself laughing at her morbid jokes and thinking about her every night before you fell asleep.
Wednesday would never admit it, but when she couldn’t sleep, her mind would wander to far-off places. She saw your smile, your hand in hers, and she saw a love like her parents had. 
Now, half a year later, you feel like you know more about Wednesday than you ever wanted to. You know every last quirk, every microexpression she lets grace her face. You know exactly the way she lights up when she sees you, even if to others it looks like a regular glare. Wednesday lets you sleep in her bed; she lets you braid her hair; she lets you lounge about during her writing time. It’s normal stuff, but it isn’t, because it’s Wednesday. Hell, seeing her smile is rarer than Halley’s Comet, let alone getting into her personal space.
Wednesday doesn’t know why she’s so enthralled by you, but she is. You’re patient with her, even when you probably shouldn’t be, and you jump at the chance to take care of her. It feels good.
“Thank god that’s over,” you say, flopping face-down onto her bed. Thing jumps out from under the covers, scurrying away.
The history exam you’ve just completed was the last one on your schedule — you’re free. For a week of break, anyways. Wednesday had helped you study for it (you flipped through a textbook while she rattled off every piece of evidence she had collected for her newest investigation).
“How did it go?” she asks, standing up from her chair and popping a piece of black licorice into her mouth.
“Bad,” you say, voice muffled. “But it’s over.”
She hums.
“How were yours?” You roll over, watching as she walks over to the bulletin board pinned full of documents and sticky notes.
“Unchallenging.”
That was Wednesday. Always too smart for her own good. “What do you want to do tonight? No homework,” you grin.
“I need to go to Jericho High School,” she says plainly, staring at the board.
Your face falls, even though at this point it shouldn’t. It’s a common occurrence: Wednesday too caught up in her hyperfixation to make time for you or your feelings. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore. You swallow, making sure your voice stays level. “What are you gonna find there?”
She looks over her shoulder, eyes flashing annoyance. “I don’t know. That’s the point of going.”
Right.
The thing is, you can’t blame her. She told you, again and again, that you shouldn’t devote your time or energy to her. For the first few weeks of your relationship, she was a broken record: “this is a bad idea,” “you shouldn’t care about me,” “you’d be better off alone.” You, enamored with her jet-black hair and the dusting of freckles across her nose, had taken it as a challenge.
More and more, you found yourself regretting that.
Then Wednesday says your name, tentatively, and your gaze snaps to her.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, the words unnatural in her stony voice. “Was that insensitive?”
You shake your head, putting on a smile. You’re still Wednesday Addams’ girlfriend. You get her heart, at the end of the day. “It’s okay.”
“I’m hoping to find something that points me to the culprit.”
You nod, wishing for her to just drop it. You’d rather move on, figure out plans with one of your friends instead.
“Would you like to do something tomorrow?” Her eyes are hesitant, but genuine, and just like that your heart melts again.
“There’s an art gallery opening a couple towns over,” you blurt, too excited to let this opportunity pass. “We could… drive over and see it?”
She’s turned back to the board. “How long would that take?”
You ignore the slight sting in your heart. “I don’t know, it depends on how long we spend there. We could make a whole day out of it.”
“I told Eugene I’d help him prepare the hives for the next harvest,” she says blankly. “That won’t work.”
It kills you that she can’t concentrate on you for more than a few seconds at a time. Especially since you know that if you were to ignore her in the same way, even just for an hour, she would shut down and close herself off. “Can you at least look at me?”
There’s emotion bubbling up inside of you, emotion that you don’t want to express right now, but she’s facing you.
“I’m working on being more delicate, you know that,” Wednesday says, her voice tight. You know her defenses are up.
“It’s not that,” you scoff, blinking back stubborn tears. “You never try. Do you know how many things I’ve compromised on for you?”
Her eyes flick around the room, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
“The movies, for one,” you say, shuddering at the thought of the true-crime documentaries you’re plagued to watch nearly every night. “The no-touching. The no-compliments. The not-telling-anyone-about-us?”
“You agreed to all of that.”
“Exactly!” you cry. “That’s my point! What have you agreed to?”
Wednesday hates the feeling creeping up her chest. The burning feeling in her throat, the cold dread in the pit of her stomach. That she’s hurting someone she cares about without even realizing it. Again. She wants desperately to make it right, to understand exactly what you want her to do, but the moment you raise your voice, her reflexes kick in. 
“I agreed to being your girlfriend!” she says, louder than she meant to.
Your heart sinks into your stomach. She isn’t even trying to understand. “That was that big of a sacrifice for you, huh?”
Wednesday licks her lips nervously, hating the look in your eyes, hating how hurt you are and how angry she is. Now, the thought of a relationship like her parents’ is distant and sickening. She can’t imagine having the patience to communicate with someone for so many years — all she can think about is how much easier it would be to do it all alone.
But then her eyes find yours, desperate and heartbroken and filled with tears, and she wants to tear her hair out.
“I’m not enough for you, I know that,” you say quietly, and Wednesday’s heart twists in a way it never has before. “But I… I just thought you would try.”
She calls your name, reaches out a hand, but you’ve already left her dorm. You rush down the hallway, hoping she leaves you alone and chases after you all at once. The tears are hot down your cheeks, and the lump in your throat just won’t leave. You had trusted Wednesday with your heart. You had given it to her, even though your mom knew and your best friend knew and you knew that you shouldn’t have.
Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you, your mom would say, whenever you asked her questions about love far too big for a six-year-old. She would tell you that your heart was a treasure, and that someday you’d find someone who bettered you in every single way.
You had known, you had always known that that wasn’t Wednesday. But she kissed you, she opened up to you, she looked at you in ways that said you were the most special person in the world. And for a while, you were. You were the only one who got to know Wednesday Addams. But you had invested too much, and she never changed: the same inexplicable mystery that had drawn you to her was now pulling you apart from the inside out. She wasn’t built for the kind of relationship that you needed, even if she could make your day just by meeting your eyes.
You find your way to your room through tear-blurred vision, thanking the stars above that your roommate had left early to spend break with her parents.
You collapse onto your bed, sobbing. You feel silly, stupid, used, thinking about every sacrifice you’ve made for her and how little she’s done in return. How unfair it is: she’s trying, you know she’s trying, but trying to Wednesday is the bare minimum to you, and you can’t change what you need.
You cry until your head pounds and your throat is raw, and even then you can’t stop picturing her dark eyes and scarce, golden smiles. You hear your mother’s voice in your head. Your heart clenches.
Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep, thoughts racing and palms sweating. You want more than anything to go to Wednesday’s room to rant about all of your emotions, knowing she’s only half-listening, and to persuade her to cuddle with you in bed, to hold her tight.
Nausea comes and goes in waves.
You don’t want to answer the knock at your door, except it comes from low down on the ground, and you’d never turn Thing away.
He’s holding an envelope between his second and third fingers.
An envelope, with your name scrawled across it in messy cursive. Thing drops it and takes a small bow, hurrying down the hall. You pick it up and shut the door with a sniff, wiping your nose. You’ve never been so grateful for deserted hallways.
You rip it open on your bed, entirely unprepared for the rush of emotion that hits you when you smell Wednesday’s typewriter ink.
I can’t say things to your face, but you need to know them, so I’ve decided to write them.  If I am a black dahlia, you are a sunflower. You are the sweetest of the sunflowers; you are the sun to me. I loathe myself for every moment I have spent upsetting you. I know that I am selfish, and that you are selfless, and that I hurt you even when I’m not trying to. Sorry isn’t enough of a word.
For my entire life, I believed love was nothing but a weakness to be exploited. I thought people like you, who love and give endlessly into this world, were oblivious to the reality of the world. But then I met you, and you cared for someone who least deserved it. The time of day was more than I deserved, and you gave me so much more than that. You have parted the clouds, you have brought sunlight into my life, you have brought me more joy and peace than I care to admit. And to repay you, I hurt you.
You are the sweetest of the sunflowers, and I will never again let myself forget it. I vow to do my utmost to provide you with everything you desire, if you allow me. I’m sorry, my love.
Wednesday nearly jumps when Thing returns, asking him how you looked and if you took the letter. She waits, bouncing her leg, tapping her fingers, thinking about why time travel hasn’t been invented yet. Her mouth is dry, her heart hammering against her ribs. She’s never been so anxious before.
 She barely remembers to smooth out her hair before answering the knock that eventually comes at her door.
“Hi,” you mumble, holding the letter in your hands.
“Hi,” she breathes.
“Do I get another chance?” she asks in a rush. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her this forward.
“I’m out of patience,” you say, and she nods quickly, blinking red-rimmed eyes.
A younger version of you would be reeling at the sight of such blatant emotion on her face.
“Can I hug you?”
Her eyebrows lift, eyes widening ever so slightly.
You can’t stand being mad at her.
Her arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close, her face buried into the crook of your neck. You take a deep breath.
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sugawarassoulmate · 2 years
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and i can be needy, way too damn needy
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“oh, didn’t like what i had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “both of them feel that way, you know. they only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. you think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”
atsumu too? no, that couldn’t be true. he’s always been your best friend. yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. surely all of that had been genuine?
“that’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. this doesn’t feel the same as when osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. this is uncharted territory. never has anyone else been so callous towards you. usually because one of the boys was there to step in—atsumu to offer a kind word and osamu to throw a punch or two.
but maybe that was the problem. maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.
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this really wasn't meant to turn into anything! i've had this doc sitting on my computer for months thinking nothing was gonna come from it, but you guys really liked the snippet i shared so here it is.
if you were expecting a big confrontation between osamu's girlfriend and reader, sorry! my crybaby doesn't play that way but she does get her comeuppance 👀
also there wasn't going to be any smut in this fic but.......osamu's hot LOL
words: 3.8k
cw: fem!reader, insecurity, name-calling, fingering, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity mention, minors dni
disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.
these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!
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You walked into the kitchen expecting to see Osamu with his head in the fridge as usual. Instead, you found something worse, his girlfriend leaning on the counter. A scowl on her face as soon as she locks eyes with you. It’s the first time you’ve ever been alone with her, without Osamu there to make a mean comment at your expense that makes her laugh sweetly, “Baby, you’re being so rude!” she’d say in her shrill voice.
But there’s none of that in her face at the moment. She crosses her arms, eyebrows furrowed as she gets a good look at you. “Of course, you’re here too,” she says, attempting to grumble under her breath but it’s definitely loud enough for you to hear.
You don’t really want to know what she meant, mumbling an apology in her direction before trying to shuffle past her to the stairs. She’s quicker than you, though, blocking your path and almost tripping you in the process. “What the hell are you doing here?” She gets in your face, demanding an answer. It’s only when she’s so close that you take in how pretty she actually is: full, pouty lips, a high arch in her eyebrows, sharp cheekbones, a straight nose.
She didn’t look like the kind of girl Osamu dated, but you figured that wasn’t a fair assumption for you to make. You didn’t really know what kind of girls Osamu liked. Whenever his brother brought the topic up, it usually ended with a punch to the gut.
“Atsumu and I have plans,” you said, hoping she’d leave you alone. She purses her lips, seemingly not satisfied with your response. “Could you—”
“Do you not have friends of your own? You’re always tagging along with the twins, aren’t you embarrassed?” her features twist into a smile, one of ridicule. You’re not sure how to respond, mouth clamping up as you hope for someone to come downstairs and save you. But you’re not that lucky and your silence only pisses her off even more. “Not even going to defend yourself? Samu’s right, you’re hopeless!”
Hopeless? Had Osamu said that about you? He’s said worse things to your face, sure, but never once did you think he spoke about you behind your back. Did he talk about you to her? Complain about you? Of course, you weren’t his favorite person in the world but did he actually feel that way?
You could feel your stomach churning, a bitter taste bubbling in the back of your throat. You had to get out of there, but your legs wouldn’t move. “Oh, didn’t like what I had to say?” she must have noticed your reaction, feeding off your palpable anxiety. “Both of them feel that way, you know. They only really hang out with you because your mothers are good friends. You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?”
Atsumu too? No, that couldn’t be true. He’s always been your best friend. Yeah, your moms were close and it was easy to go to their house after school while your parents were working, but Atsumu’s smile always grew wide whenever you walked through the door. Surely all of that had been genuine?
“That’s a lie…” you mumble, wishing for once you could find the strength to stick up for yourself. This doesn’t feel the same as when Osamu teases you, that’s something you can navigate. This is uncharted territory. Never has anyone else been so callous towards you. Usually because one of the boys was there to step in—Atsumu to offer a kind word and Osamu to throw a punch or two.
But maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn’t want to waste their time saving you anymore.
“Please, do you think they’d say it to your face? To the crybaby that lives next door? They don’t want to hurt your feelings but someone needs to give you a reality check.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” you snap back, feeling the tightness in your chest. Even when Osamu was giving you his worst, he never made you feel so small.
She laughs humorlessly, taking a step forward into your personal space and leaning down. It feels so humiliating. “I know enough,” she claims. “Every time I’m with my boyfriend, he never shuts up about you. What makes you so damn special? Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own.”
You wanted to tell her it wasn’t true. That you knew more about the twins than she did, but all the energy you had left disappeared. And, in turn, her words started playing in your head over and over. Maybe it was true. Maybe your friendship with the twins had run its course—or rather your friendship with one of them did. Osamu had never been your friend before, had he?
Right on cue, the tears started running down your face. You could imagine how red and distorted your face had become, your nose becoming runny and mouth growing dry. You’re rushing out of the room before she could say anything else, running towards your house and slamming the door behind you. 
It’s only when you’re finally alone that you allow your sobs to get loud, to feel all your insecurities pouring out into the open. And it’s just so pitiful that your first reaction is to run to Atsumu and point out the person who made you feel this way. What’s most surprising is that, for once, it wasn’t his brother who was at fault. Not even Osamu could make you cry this much.
Your phone starts buzzing every few seconds and through tears, you read out the notifications on the screen.
From: ☀️tsumu☀️: did ya get here yet?
From: ☀️tsumu☀️: thought i heard the front door..
You want to reach out to him, to both of them. But you can’t even bother with a reply. Instead, you turn your phone off, and let your tears flow some more.
You’ve never avoided both of the twins before, but you couldn’t face them after that conversation. It was hard at first, having both of the boys blow up your phone for most of the day was pretty normal. The three of you were always together, whether at each other’s houses, going out, or running errands together. If that wasn’t the case, you’d be on the phone with one of them, usually Atsumu, for hours.
But for the first time, you haven’t been giving either of them your attention—you turned off notifications on your phone, started waking up an hour earlier so you wouldn’t have to walk with them, and you told your parents not to answer their calls.
“Did you get into a fight?” your mother had said. “What did Osamu do this time?” But you didn’t really have an explanation, the real story being far more embarrassing than anything else. 
At school, it was harder to steer clear of them. You didn’t share many classes but you ended up moving your seat in the few you did, ducking out of the room as soon as the bell rang to avoid having to talk to them. Thankfully, volleyball kept them busy and limited your interactions.
There was one incident in the cafeteria where you nearly broke your-self isolation.
It was easy for Atsumu to find you in a crowded room, locking eyes with you across the cafeteria. The boys were there with Suna and Ginjima talking amongst themselves and being rowdy as usual. Atsumu waved in your direction, beckoning for you to sit with them and you nearly did. Until you saw her cuddled up to Osamu’s side, a disapproving look on her face.
Osamu’s face didn’t look that pleasant either. “Maybe he wouldn’t bitch about you so much if you just fucked off and found friends of your own…”
Suddenly feeling nauseous, you turned your back on the table. Grabbing your food, you make your way towards the roof and eat there. You could usually be alone up there, without being a bother to anyone else.
“Did Osamu do something to you?” Suna asked one day when you were in the library. It was safe to study there—the boys had been banned in their first year after one too many fights. Suna sat across from you, an unreadable look on his face as he watched you take notes. “You haven’t come to practice in a week.”
You figured there was no use in avoiding him and continued to keep doing work. “Why does everyone think he did something?”
“Something had to have happened. Tweedledee and Tweedledum said you haven’t spoken to them in a while,” he leans back in his chair with his feet up on the table. Even during the worst moments with Osamu, you’d still end up getting dragged to practice somehow. “They’ve been fighting a lot more than usual. Kinda annoying, honestly…”
That didn’t do much to quell your anxiety. It was always nasty when the boys fought but the idea of sitting in the bleachers with her after what she said made you queasy. Maybe it had nothing to do with you. The twins fighting wasn’t out of the ordinary, what made you so special?
“I’m really busy with school, okay?” you motion towards the mess of papers on the table you’re working at. But Suna looks unconvinced, probably thinking back to all the times you’ve either done homework or studied while watching the team practice. “Just don’t tell them that you spoke to me, please?” 
One thing you love about Suna is that he doesn’t pry. If you’re not ready to talk about something, he’ll hold off on asking questions. “Fine,” he sighs, getting up. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ve got it figured out. But do something quick, ‘cause I don’t know how much patience Kita has left.”
You can’t explain the uneasiness in your gut while watching Suna leave the room. He was wrong, you didn’t have it figured out. There wasn’t a plan or an end goal in mind. But you couldn’t face the boys just yet. And, honestly, whatever was going on would figure itself out with or without you.
“No, no, no, no…” you groan to yourself fishing through your backpack for the tenth time, hoping your keys would somehow magically appear. There was a torrential downpour outside and your parents weren’t home or answering their phones. Like an idiot, you forgot your keys and certainly didn’t have an umbrella, your soaked uniform sticking to you, your body freezing and shivering.
The only people who had spare keys were the twins and their mother. “For emergencies,” said your own mother so long ago but they were never actually used for emergencies. All too often, the boys would barge into your home for snacks or drinks, but mostly for you. They’d pluck you from your bedroom—it didn’t matter if you were studying or sleeping, really—and drag you back to their house to watch a movie or settle an argument.
You asked your mother to tell them you weren't home or hid out in the library until it was too late for them to show up at your front door. But now, you were royally fucked and were running out of options. “Please be here…” you cried, wishing for your keys to end up in your hand.
“Are ya stupid? Yer gonna catch yer fuckin’ death out here!” It wasn’t hard to figure out who the voice belonged to. Osamu stormed to the front of your house, pissed off as he shoved you under his umbrella. “The fuck ya standin’ here for? Yer practically blue!”
You didn’t have the energy to argue or come up with some excuse to distance yourself from him. Not when your crybaby tears were threatening to come back again. “I don’t have my keys,” you sobbed, feeling cold and pathetic.
Osamu grabs you by the sleeve and hauled you next door to his house, cursing with every wet stomp of his feet. You’re pushed through the front entrance, already forming a puddle on the floor. The shoes by the door let you know their mother isn’t home either.
“Dude! Ya were right behind me, what took ya so long—” Atsumu stops dead in his tracks when he spots you, an unreadable emotion on his face but he’s quick to go into protective mode, running towards you and his brother. “What—”
“She forgot her fuckin’ keys,” Osamu grouches, sticking the umbrella in a stand near the door. He turns to you, looking as if he wants to bite your head off. “Go upstairs and take a hot shower. We’ll get ya clean clothes.”
“Aren’t you embarrassed?” her words are in your head again. The twins need to take care of you yet again because you’re too stupid to remember to carry a fucking key. “I just need my—”
“I don’t remember askin’ ya,” Osamu says, pushing you in the direction of their bathroom. “Go.” Your eyes flick to Atsumu but he’s in agreement with his twin. Embarrassed, you start heading upstairs, wishing for all of this to be over.
The boys left clean clothes for you outside the bathroom door after your shower. As expected, the shirt and pajama bottoms were much bigger, completely drowning you. Your wet clothes were thrown in the laundry room to be washed and dried. You’re too nervous to go into the living room and face them, but hiding upstairs would only make the situation worse.
You decide to just rip the band-aid. 
Wringing the rest of the water with your towel, you walk in to see the boys talking amongst themselves. They stop when you enter the room, Atsumu looking apologetic as he leaves room on the couch for you to sit. A cup of tea sits on the coffee table, likely made by Osamu and you’re certain his anger would only get worse if you refuse.
It doesn’t take very long for Osamu to start interrogating you as soon as you sit down. “Why the fuck didn’t ya come here sooner?” he stands in front of you and his brother, grey eyes shooting daggers at yours. 
“I thought I had them,” you lied, letting the cup warm your still cold hands. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”
“But why would ya think yer a bother?” This time Atsumu spoke, his hand reaching out to rub your shoulder. You appreciated the extra warmth. “Better yet, where have ya been lately? Ya stopped talkin’ to us out of nowhere.” You don’t miss the way his eyes glance over at Osamu. He probably thinks it’s his fault too.
“You think they would give you the time of day if they had a choice?” You’re so fed up at this point that her name falls from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Osamu quirks his brow, probably wondering what she has to do with any of this.
So you tell them—You mention all the nasty things she said to you, the cruel looks she’d shoot your way at school, and how you felt too stupid to tell them because a part of you really wondered if it was true. By the time you’re done, there are a few stray tears running down your face that you didn’t notice at first. A frustrated crybaby to the very end, you’re nothing if not consistent.
They’re both angry now, eyes locked with one another. “Did ya know about this?” Atsumu’s tone was accusatory.
“Of course I fuckin’ didn’t, why didn’t ya tell me?” Osamu asked, looking at you, but his brother is quick to come to your defense.
“It doesn’t matter when she told us, what matters is that it was yer girlfriend that said that shit to her.” He snaps, pulling you closer to his frame to soothe you. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu, tongue poking his cheek. “What’re ya gonna do about it, Samu?”
The younger twin rolls his eyes takes a deep breath and walks out the room, choosing not to start a yelling match for once. Once you are alone, Atsumu wraps you in his arms for a hug.  “Please don’t disappear like that on us again,” he says, refusing to let go. “I won’t be so nice next time.” You can hear the dumb grin on his face. You’ve missed him, both of them. Atsumu makes sure you finish the rest of your tea before walking off to set up the futon for you—he suggested you spend the night and didn’t take no for an answer. 
You’re folding your uniform a few hours later after taking it out of the dryer. It should probably be ironed before you could wear it again but, thankfully, there’s no school tomorrow. While you’re there, you decide to fold the rest of the clean clothes there as well, knowing the boys’ mother would appreciate it.
 The sweet silence was broken with Osamu’s heavy steps coming downstairs, screaming into his phone, unaware that you’re also in the room. “I don’t wanna hear it and don’t even think about comin’ here and gettin’ yer shit,” From all the years of knowing him, you’ve never heard his voice get like that. Even when he and Atsumu were fighting and he’s certainly never yelled at you like that.
“Get one of yer stupid friends to pick it up from Atsumu or Suna or I’m throwin’ it the fuck out. I’m blockin’ yer ass after that. Fuck off.” He hangs up without another word and that’s when he catches you kneeling in front of the dryer with piles of folded clothes. His face doesn’t soften as he gets down on your level, eyes scanning your form. “That’s Tsumu’s shirt…”
Staring down at the much too big shirt, you now realize that he’s right. You hadn’t really considered which of their shirts the boys gave since you were more concerned with having warm clothes than anything else. “I just grabbed whatever was there—” Osamu’s quick movements take you by surprise. Next thing you know, he has you pinned to the floor, hovering over you. It rattles you at first, but Osamu’s always been known to push you around whenever he felt like it. “Samu—”
“Don’t keep secrets from me. Ya should’ve told me as soon as she said that shit.” His knee is between your legs and you wonder if his intentions are pure. All of your clothes were soaked from the storm and all Osamu had to do to get to your more intimate parts was wander his hands just slightly underneath your shirt. It had been a while since he did anything like that. Osamu was loyal to the girls he dated. At least you think. So many times he’s trapped you for a quick kiss when nobody else was in the room, it’s possible that you had overlapped with his relationships a few times. 
Maybe that’s why she hated you so much.
“If any of that bullshit was true,” Osamu continues, noticing the apprehension on your face. “I wouldn’t put up with yer sensitive ass.” 
“I’m sorry…” you mumbled, fingers twisting between the fabric of your shirt. You felt stupid, letting your own insecurities and her words get to your head when you know none of them to be true. With all the years you’ve known them, you should have given the boys more credit. “I missed you.”
Finally, Osamu’s face relaxes. At this point, you wonder if he was actually upset with you this whole time, or with himself since it was his ex-girlfriend who had said caused all this. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. It’s overwhelming, like all his kisses and it feels wrong to be so close just moments after he broke up with her, but it doesn’t stop you from deepening it.
“Such a pretty little crybaby, don’t know why I even bother with anyone else,” his voice is thick while his hands tug at your clothes. “Take this off. I’ll give ya my shirt in a bit, just lemme see ya.”
The sensation of your breasts being exposed to the cold laundry room to Osamu’s warm mouth wrapping itself around your nipple. A sharp whine leaves your lips but you stifle it, remembering that Atsumu is still upstairs. Osamu bites down on the sensitive bud, as one of his hands reaches past the sweats you had on, groaning when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear.
Two of Osamu’s fingers plunge into your cunt without warning. It gets harder and harder to muffle your noises, eyes welling up with tears. “Wanna hear yer pretty noises, dummy. Been hidin’ from me too fuckin’ long. I deserve ‘em,” he growls, biting down hard on your breast just to force a high-pitched cry from you.
You pray that Atsumu is in his room. The thought of anyone seeing you in such a compromising position—half-naked and humping against Osamu’s hand—would be so humiliating but it has you whining and moaning even more.
“Can feel yer pussy clenchin’ around my fingers. Gonna make ya cum on the fuckin’ floor like a slut,” You can hear how wet you are, juices flowing down Osamu’s hand and it’s becoming too much. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers speed up. You pull him in for a kiss, burying your cries into his mouth. “Cum fer me, stupid girl. Missed this pretty pussy, need ya to cum.”
By the time he adds a third finger, you’re already too far gone. With a final, exasperated sob, you cum around Osamu’s hand. He stares, mesmerized by how sensitive your cunt is when he pulls his fingers out, your essence catching the light. 
Your brain is too fuzzy to notice Osamu wiping his hand with Atsumu’s shirt, too busy trying to stop your legs from twitching. “Samu…”
“Don’t start yer whinin’, I’ll clean ya up,” he warns, grabbing a clean t-shirt to put on you. It’s one of his, of course. “Much better.”
“Don’t mind her, y/n,” Suna says after following your line of vision. The two of you were sitting at your regular lunch table a few days later when you felt someone staring daggers at you. Sure enough, there was Osamu’s ex looking back. Her usually pretty face now red and puffy. As horrible as she was, you still feel bad.
“Don’t mind who?” Atsumu asks as he and his brother join you after getting their food. Osamu feels your body tense up and is swift to see the reason why. Watching his eyes meet with hers brings back that unpleasant sinking feeling in your stomach for some reason.
But Osamu is quick to look away, an arm wrapping around his waist as he offers you some of his food. You sneak a brief glance back at her, just in time to see her storm out of the cafeteria.
It shouldn’t make you smile, but it does.
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©sugawarassoulmate 2022 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!
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https-florals · 1 year
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you said, baby, no attachments - r.c.
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part one || part two
word count: 2k
summary: after a very stupid, very impulsive night with rafe, you make a lot of  questionable decisions.
warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive!!! friends-with-benefits but without the friends, mentions of drinking, cursing, little angst, little fluff.
a/n:  FIRST EVER RAFE FIC!!!!! i have such a massive crush on drew starkey and tbh i’m shocked ive waited this long to write my bae rafe. anywayssss if this doesnt flop lol there may or may not be a pt 2 im working on!!! my plan is for this to have four parts, but that could change and i might condense it. this is based on casual by chappell roan!!
Stupid things have good outcomes all the time. JJ lives by that phrase, and after hearing it for years, it’s rubbed off on you. But apparently, that’s not a good excuse in an argument with him, and here you are, palms sweaty and slipping off your bike handles, repeating the words over and over and over like you’re trying to convince yourself they’re true.
Today’s stupid thing? Responding to a text from none other than Rafe Cameron. Okay, that’s been your stupid thing for about a month.
You had a little thing going with Rafe. It started at a party, a drunk hookup, neither participant quite realizing who the other was until they woke up in bed together. You had practically run from Tannyhill like the house was on fire, only after both of you fought a little, fucked a little more, and then promised never to speak of it again. You had thought that this pact also entailed speaking to each other, but about a week later Rafe caught you at work, smiled at you, and hit you with some stupid line you couldn’t quite remember. Something about being the prettiest girl in the room, which wasn’t exactly hard, considering you were indeed the only girl in the room as you worked the counter at the country club’s pro shop. When he slipped back his signed receipt to you, there were 10 digits scrawled across the bottom below his signature. 
“Rafe, what is this?” you had to ask, tone a mix between a laugh and a sigh. 
He shrugged, and attempted to grab his bag and run out, but you slid the fancy paper bag away from him. “I thought that we said we weren’t gonna talk to each other anymore,” you had stated softly, smiling at the way his cheeks tinted a little pink.
“Nah, I said I didn’t wanna talk about it,” he stressed, “But talking to you is way different.”
You just rolled your eyes and pushed the bag back to him, and he waved you goodbye as he left.
You can count on one hand all the interactions you’ve had with that boy, and that had to be the oddest. Well, maybe not as odd as having sex with him.
A week passed before you texted him. It wasn’t for anything really important, a scolding, if anything. All you did was remind him that again, he can’t just randomly take his shirt off while golfing. It’s a sophisticated establishment, the old ladies complain, blah, blah, blah. His response?
rafe c. - so you’re saying i distract you?
Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what you’re saying.
The situations just get weirder, when the first time the two of you hang out is when you call him for a ride to the grocery store. No one’s at the Chateau, you’re out of gas, and every form of transportation you could possibly steal for a bit is with their respective owners. You doubt you could’ve balanced on JJ’s bike anyways.
The ride is a little awkward, but by the end you feel.. Comfortable. At peace, almost, in the Kook prince’s passenger seat with his hand ghosting over your knee. In the grocery store, it’s painfully obvious Rafe has never been shopping for food in The Cut. He’s wrinkling his nose at the cheap prepackaged salmon you buy, with generic bread crumbs. But then he helps you comb through the bell peppers to find decent ones, and carries your groceries to his truck. He even lets you play whatever you want over the aux.
You’re waking up with him in your bed the next morning, pushing him out the window so no one sees him.
And that’s how it starts, and how it continues- brief text convos, long hangouts, good sex and fake nonchalance. He stays true to what he said, and you don’t talk about it. To anybody. That was the whole thing- it was understood that it was a secret. No strings attached, forbidden kind of kook and pogue relations that would have your friends livid.
So why are you so nervous on this particular evening? Maybe it’s because Rafe let it slip to Sarah that you’re hooking up. Maybe cause Sarah just had to say something to John B, who then told JJ, who then fought with you in front of the entire group. Everyone knows, and everyone is telling you you’re crazy. It’s not something you can handle, so when you see that Rafe asked you to come over, you’re hopping on your bike and speeding to Tannyhill. 
When you get there, you automatically rush into Rafe’s room, a sweaty mess.
He’s laying on his bed, in just boxers as he scrolls on his phone. He jumps when you walk in, setting his phone down quick and standing up like you’re the queen or something.
Your gaze tracks to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on his nightstand, and you groan and fake gag as you flop facedown onto the mattress. 
There’s an almost soundless little intake of air, but you do hear it, and cut Rafe off before he can even speak. 
“I’m not helping you get off!” you declare loudly, and the boy visibly deflates.
“Come on,” he whines, like a little kid not getting his way. “You came in at the perfect time.”
You roll over so he’s in your peripheral vision, and huff. “I’m mad at you.”
He sticks his bottom lip out, a little mocking as he crawls onto the bed beside you. “Awe, what’d I do now?” Rafe lays on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches you. He likes to watch the way his lamp reflects in your eyes, and how you roll your eyes everytime you catch him staring at you. His fingers creep up your side, but you push him off. Oh. You really are mad, he thinks.
“Why would you tell Sarah?” you ask, voice quiet as you stare him down. The apples of his cheeks turn a little pink, and his eyes widen.
“Uh, what did I tell her?” Rafe lies, because he remembers exactly what he said to Sarah, and the way her jaw dropped after he spoke.
“I just- I really like her, Sarah. Forget about the sex and all that shit. When I’m talking to her, it feels like…” He’s stumbling over his words, not quite able to say what he wants. “She’s fresh air, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a room without windows, or some shit.” 
He was never much of a poet. He also remembers the vise-like grip she had on his arm as she told him she would kill him if he ever hurt you. Rafe promised he could never.
But right now he lies, lies and tries to level his voice. He’s a little shocked that you believe him, or at least don’t press the topic further.
“You told her we were sleeping together!” You hiss, lightly smacking him on the side of his head.
He winces, but internally he’s heaving a sigh of relief. He makes a mental note to never get drunk with his sister ever again as you continue to rant. It’s something about the Pogues wanting to kill him (nothing new), along with a couple of jabs about how he’s just the worst, and that he's annoying, and blah, blah, blah. Rafe isn’t really listening, rather just thinking about his stupid decisions. One of which is looking real pretty as she yells at him. Pretty enough to fall in love with. He absentmindedly tucks your hair behind your ear and you instantly exhale, losing your train of thought altogether in record time. It’s like you have the attention span of a damn goldfish around him.
You just groan again, and murmur, “I can’t stand you,” right before you press your lips to his.
Rafe laughs against you, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. “Good thing you’re sitting on top of me then.”
His hands slip under your shirt, and your fingers push through his hair. The calluses on his hands scrape against the soft skin of your stomach and catch on the lace of your bra. Hard hands for daddy’s money, you think. Your fingers tuck against his jawline, cradling his face while his tongue slips against yours, his lips curling up when you make any little noise.
You pull back to catch your breath, and Rafe just stares up at you, kind of punchdrunk.
“Rafe?”
“Mhm?” He reaches up to brush his thumb over your lips.
You’re silent for a second as you think about what you’re about to say. ‘What- What are we doing?”
Rafe’s mouth is parted, and you can’t quite decipher his expression as you watch his eyes flick over your face. He swallows, and says, “Whatever you want.”
You don’t really hear him, and blurt out, “I need this to be casual.”
“Casual?” he repeats.
“Strictly like, sex. No strings attached.”
He sits up, pulling you with him so you’re still on his lap but he’s eye level to you. He’s hard underneath you, but you ignore it as you continue to speak. 
“Okay, just sex. Why?”
It’s actually very hard to ignore, literally and figuratively. Rafe is thinking the same thing when you clear your throat and move a little on him, subconsciously. 
You shrug. “Listen, I don’t have the time for anything more than that. Plus, we know we couldn’t date, like ever.”
He nods, fake-stretching as a means to buck up against you. “And why couldn’t we date?” When you give him an incredulous look, he continues, “Just to play devil’s advocate. Not that I don’t agree with you, cause I totally do. I just wanna know what you’re like, thinking, if we’re on the same wavelength, or whatever…” He trails off, knowing he’s babbling and should stop.
You laugh a little nervously. “Okay, Cameron.” You take a deep breath, and hope that what you’re about to say makes sense. “I have an itch to scratch, and the only thing I want to do is scratch that itch.” You pause to think. “Itch that scratch?”
“You had it right the first time,” Rafe laughs, but the lilt of it is a little annoyed.
“Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’re good at scratching that itch.”
He grins with pride, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and just the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm.
“Really good at scratching that itch,” you exhale a little shaky. “But y’know, I don’t really like you as a person.”
His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. “The fuck? Thanks a lot.”
“You’re an asshole, Rafe. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but come on.” You’re thinking of all the times he’s been an absolute dick to your friends.
He’s thinking about all the things he’d lay down for you. “Not to you.”
Your words evidently sting him a bit, and you go red. You hadn’t really meant to hurt him.
You groan. “You know what I mean. My friends hate you. We just couldn’t work.”
Rafe doesn’t really know what to say. This isn’t really the way he thought this would go, but then again, what did he really expect? Everything is jumbled in his head, and all he wants to do is get high and forget about the conversation. But, even though you basically just told him that he's unlikable, you’re still regrettably pretty, and still on top of him. He grips your hips hard, holding you in place as he rolls against you. “So fuck buddies, but we can’t stand each other?” One hand snakes underneath your shirt to unclip your bra, and he does it faster than you can blink.
“Exactly,” you say somewhere in between both of your shirts coming off. “Just stress relief.”
His hands are hot all over you. There’s a hardness in his gaze that’s so different from the softness of his touch.
“We have to have rules,” you manage to state when you’re shimmying out of your shorts, breathing hard while Rafe toys with the little pink bow on your panties.
“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”
It’s a filler phrase, you think. He must desperate for you to shut up and fuck him, so he’s saying anything. 
He’s still thinking about how he’d do anything for you. Anything.
You still for a second to catch your breath, and say, “No feelings. No staying overnight. And we can’t go anywhere together that we would be seen.”
“Why not?” Rafe groans as your clothed heat slips over him.
“Rafe! People will talk. They’ll think…”
He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. “That we’re fucking? Well, hate to break it to ya, baby, but we kinda already are.”
“And no calling me baby.”
Rafe ignores you and slips his hand between your legs, and you forget that you’re supposed to hate him.
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mucherbuncher · 3 months
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Daryl x Reader
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daryl x reader fic
requested by my mutual
this is my first time actually writing a one shot on tumblr and honestly i’m so exited. i’m still tryna figure out this app bc i literally downloaded it feb. 7th so plz forgive me i’m just a girl. also ignore that none of the “i”s are capitalized i really don’t care.
HOW DO YALL CHECK THAT WORD COUNT??
no warnings other than talking about eating sun disgusting ass food
if i do a part two there’ll be sm!t 🫣
I drew into the dirt absentmindedly with my fingers, bored out of my goddamn mind while Daryl cooks a snake over the fire. I didn’t look at it, because as queasy as i already was from hunger i wasn’t gonna make it worse. I had already eaten a few worms yesterday, something i’d never thought i would’ve done. To be honest, it was Daryl’s idea.
I had been doing everything to stay by his side after the prison fell, including silently obeying him and following him around like a lost puppy. I probably could survive on my own, but having someone by my side made it way easier. I got lucky being stuck with him, at least in the survival sense. Emotionally, or even socially, he was on airplane mode. He barely spoke, barely even looked at me. I didn’t mind it so much for a day or two, but it’s about to be day four. I couldn’t take it anymore.
He used his dirty knife to cut the snake in half, then peeled the skin off. It sorta reminded me of those giant gummy worms that you could get at a candy store, except pink and charred with visible bones.
“Here.” He reached across the small fire to hand me it. I looked up in disgust, hesitantly reaching out to eat the… thing.
It was chewy, like a well done steak. It didn’t taste like that though. It tasted pretty earthy, almost like a bug or something. The closest thing i can compare it too was grasshopper flavored fish. Wow, so appetizing.
I ate my entire half, and ripping off a small piece of rib bone from the spine to clean my teeth. I stared into the fire, like Daryl did. I used the back of my hand to wipe my mouth, unfortunately only spreading more dirt onto my face. Daryl looked about the same.
“What are we doing?” I blurted out, my voice a little hoarse from not talking all day.
Daryl looked up from the fire, staring at me blankly. His eyes practically glowed that pretty steel blue color, and I already felt slightly unnerved from his stare.
“Are we even gonna try to look for anyone, or are we just gonna keep running everyday?” I continued on, my voice growing stronger as I felt more emotions setting in.
“No point.” He grunted after a few seconds of silence.
“But there is. We need the rest of the group, they could all be still alive, together, maybe.”
“Look around, do ya see anyone waitin for us?” He spat, his voice getting a little louder.
“Your a tracker, so track.” I hissed, my eyes narrowed as i felt more and more frustrated with this man.
“Fine. Get yer ass up.” Before I could even think or retort back, He grabbed his crossbow and started kicking dirt into our little fire.
“Daryl, it’s dark…” I muttered, suddenly feeling small at the way he’s acting so pissed.
“This whatchu want, right?” He grabs my arm and yanks me upwards, and I stumble a little before tearing my arm back.
“Stop. Stop it right now.” I stare into his eyes, clenching my jaw a little in anger.
He starts pacing, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He’s trying to hide his face from me.
“There ain’t no point… what if- what if they’re all gone? I can’t… i won’t…” He wipes his eyes with the back of his arm, and i realize, he’s fucking crying. I can handle children crying, even other girls. But when a grown man cries… it makes me want to start sobbing.
My heart sinks and i feel an awful twinge in my stomach. I shouldn’t have pushed him. Fuck me…
“Hey…” My mouth has gone dry, i’m not totally sure what to do here. With the fire gone, and only the moonlight to allow me to see his face, im struggling.
“S’ not… I don’t know what to do.” He chokes a little, and that was my final straw. I pull him in towards me, grabbing his huge tan arms gently. I take the back of his head and put it against my neck, rubbing his back gently. His hands fall limply at his sides as he gives up.
“S’ gonna be alright. We can start lookin tomorrow, alright? You’ve got me. I’m here.” I speak softly and slowly as i reassure him. I’m hoping i’m saying all the right things. He wraps his arms around my waist tightly, restricting my breathing a little.
I hold him there for a long time, rubbing his back slowly as he silent cries into my shoulder. It felt right, comforting him. I was good at it. He needed this badly, and i hoped my optimism would rub off on him.
I pull his head off my shoulder, cupping his face in my hands. They look tiny here, holding him like this. I wipe some of the tears off his pretty face with my thumbs. His eyes bore into the ground, not meeting mine. I knew he felt embarrassed, but it was just the two of us. I wasn’t going to tell a single soul, nobody could make me spill his secrets even through torture.
I brush away some of his greasy brown hair, kissing his forehead gently. His eyes snapped up to meet mine. Shit… was that too much? I force myself to keep a calm expression, gazing at his puffy red eyes.
“M’ gonna start the fire again, okay?” I say gently. He nods, taking a step back and sitting down on the ground.
I fumble the lighter a little in my hands as i grab the kindling, and a small flame peeks through. i slowly start adding more fuel, until a steady flame is going. I scoot back to sit next to Daryl again, gently guiding his body down until his head is resting on my lap.
“C’mere.”
His huge body weighs down on my thigh, but I honestly didn’t care at all. I brushed my fingers through his messy hair, careful to not tug on any knots as i did so. He looked sorta beautiful like this.
Wait what the fuck. My mind started racing. This man was easily forty years old, covered in dirt and sweat and walker blood. Id known him and treated him like a friend for nearly two years now, but now… I treated him as if he was glass. He probably felt like it, broken after standing strong against all the hardship he’s faced his whole life. I knew bits and pieces, how he depended on Merle since he couldn’t rely on his shitty dad. His mom has been gone since he was a child.
I needed to be here for him. He’s become my protector, but I, a young woman, cared for him in a way i hadn’t for anyone else in a long time.
His chest rose and fell peacefully, and I knew he was starting to fall asleep. There wasn’t much to protect us from the elements other than a small wool blanket we’d been sharing for the past few days. I grabbed my bag, and carefully moved his head off my thighs to rest on the bag instead. I stepped around his body and curled up against his chest, making myself little spoon. I grabbed his crossbow, curling that close to my body just in case. I felt his arm swing around me, pulling me just a bit closer than i already was.
“Ya okay here?” He asked, speaking softly into my ear.
“Mhm.” His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes, smiling just a little. What a funny man.
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