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#i’m not in a good mood help i hate living here
pedrostylez · 20 hours
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I’m Here When You Need Me
Joel Miller x f!reader One Shot
Warnings:Angst, feelings, longing, cheating on the readers part, Joel just wants you to be happy, high key hating reader’s husband, age gap mentioned (Joel is in his 50’s, no reader age), insecurities, mentions of body and working out, insecurities, nipple and breast play, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex ( wrap it people), oral f recieving, I think that’s it
Word Count: 4.1k
A/N: this has had minimal edits and I’m posting from my phone so don’t be judging me!!!! Heed the warnings. I hope you guys enjoy 😊
He’s at it again, dreaming of you wrapped around him. Soft to the touch, warm and needy, just how he likes you.
The telltale sound of his phone wakes him from the comfort of his dreams, vibrating through the pillow to his ear. When he squints his eyes to see your name on the screen, his heart freezes for a moment. You don’t typically call, so it must be important. “Hello?” He sounds groggy, and he hears your pause before a deep sigh. He knows you feel bad for calling him, even though you knew he would be asleep. “What is it, baby?”
“Don’t call me that.” You hiss, breath coming quickly through the receiver, the sound of your teeth biting at your nail.
“Are you alone?” He asks, now sitting up in bed. He’s used to a rogue text here and there, asking if he’s home so that you can slip out while your husband is asleep, or at work. He’s never texted you first, never been the initiator except for the once when he first spotted you in the bar. But a phone call in the middle of the night? Unheard of.
“Yeah.” You sigh, frustration clear in your voice.
He frowns, rubbing at his chin and shuffling out of bed. “Door’s open, baby.” It slips out, and he winces, figuring you’ll correct him again. He can’t help it.
You don’t say anything about the nickname, just give him a quiet goodbye and an ETA.
He doesn’t bother to remake the bed, doesn’t bother to clean up anything. He used to; used to make sure all the dishes were done and that the floor was swept for you. He was embarrassed, a 50 something year old man still living alone and had somehow gotten your attention. He wanted to leave a good impression.
But after enough times of you storming in, how you would grab around the collar of his shirt and thrust yourself at him to feel something, to distract you from whatever issues you were having with him, he stopped worrying.
A habit he shouldn’t get into, but he knew you would come around again and again.
Joel flicks on the outside light, looking out the curtain briefly before sitting on the couch and turning on the TV. He keeps the sound low, listening for the sound of your truck to pull up next to his. His pants are low, riding just below the elastic band of his underwear, loose and warm under the flannel.
He sighs, switching the channel and scratching at his incoming beard. He doesn’t know what mood you’ll be in, what you’ll want, but trying to wake himself up after a long day on the job is all he can do to prepare for you.
The sound of your door slamming has him turning his head, listening to your sneakers shuffle on his brick pathway. The pause at his door, where he swears he can hear you take a deep breath before twisting the knob and letting yourself in.
Your hair, swept to one side and down, loose, wild, has his mouth upturned out of habit. He loves you wild. “Hey.”
“What’s going on?” He asks quietly, letting you shut his front door and slip your sneakers off. He doesn’t dare move, afraid that he might scare you off by being too concerned. You’re in your own set of pajamas, loose shirt and flannel pants with a sweatshirt zipped in the front.
When you sit beside him, you lean into him with your head on his chest. One, two, three big breaths leave your mouth as he wraps an arm around you. It gives you the courage to say what you came here for. “I don’t think he loves me.”
Joel’s heart sinks, the sound of your voice defeated. His arm squeezes around you, looking down to the crown of your head. “No, baby that’s not true.” It slips out again, and he closes his eyes to try and recenter himself. Stop calling her baby.
“He won’t even look at me anymore.” You say again, tilting your head to look Joel in the eye. You’ve accepted it, eyes not shimmering with sadness. “He says he wants me but…never initiates. It’s like I’m begging just for an ounce of attention.”
Joel holds his face neutral, his blood boiling. He wants you, he would give you the attention you deserve. He knows that’s why you’re here, that’s why you called–
“I don’t think he finds me attractive anymore.” You whisper, an uncommitted shrug before you bury your head back against his chest.
Joel rubs his hand up and down your back, looking up toward the TV for a moment. Reruns of Seinfeld, laugh tracks and a bright screen fill his senses. He keeps quiet, keeping his hand moving to reassure you before he says, “I think the world of you.”
You shake under his arm with a brief chuckle, resting your hand on his stomach and swirling, swirling, swirling your finger around his belly button.
He resists sucking his stomach in, knowing you’ll chastise him like you have before. He wants to hold you, body against body to prove to you how much he wants you. “Do you want to go lay down with me?” He asks quietly, feeling your hair slide away from his arm as you pull away from him.
“Sure.” You reach for the remote, clicking off the screen and unzipping your sweatshirt. You turn to him, smirking as you step in the direction of his bedroom. “Just to sleep?”
“If that’s what you want.” Is his immediate answer. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come to his door just wanting to fall asleep on his chest; he wouldn’t mind it in the least, just to have you next to him.
But the way you smile, the way your eyes shimmer with want, he knows that isn’t what will be happening.
No, not when he turns off all the lights and heads to the bedroom and finds you already under the covers. Your quiet voice asking him to turn off the lights is new, but he obliges.
He fumbles to the bed, getting under the covers and hearing your giggle when you reach for his hand and place it on your breast. He laughs as well, swiping his thumb back and forth over your nipple until it is taunt, peaked against the pads of his fingers. He presses his mouth to your jaw, lightly pinching to hear your whimper against his ear.
He sighs happily, groaning when your fingers wrap around his cock through his pajamas. Your hands are warm, pressing heat into him in ways he misses when you’re gone. He lets his fingers drift down your side, counting your ribs quietly to himself. “Let me see you, baby?” He inquires, letting his lips run down the column of your throat, pressing deeply into the curve of your collarbone.
He feels your tension, the way you freeze for only an instant before going back to your loosened and easy going movements. “What? Don’t like surprises?” You question, squeezing your hand around the head of him briefly before pushing down his pants.
He springs free, your fingers lightly dancing down his shaft making him groan. He wants to tell you that it’s not that he doesn’t like surprises, but he wants to watch you. He looks down, blankets haphazardly in the way, only giving him a peek at what your hand is doing around him.
It feels like heaven, your hand with small calluses at the base of each finger. The smoothness of the rest, silky and enticing pumping up and down, your thumb swiping at the weeping hole to spread some of the wetness around.
He moves the sheet out of the way, letting his eyes trail to your chest before looking up at you as his tongue pokes out, circling the same nipple from before. Your mouth opens in awe, eyes fluttering shut and head thrown back. “J-Joel–”
“Let me see you.” He’s muffled against your skin, flicking his tongue against you and letting his fingers drift further and further down. Joel’s fingers brush over the hem of your underwear, and he can’t help the smile that grows on his face as you giggle. He knows it’s ticklish there, just as he dips his fingers into the humid skin beneath.
Your breath hitches, eyes opening more fully as he moves the blankets with his arm. He notices how you watch it, suddenly self conscious as your legs start to spread for him. “I’m cold, Joel.”
He pauses, letting only the knuckle of his first two fingers continue their movement under the strain of your underwear. You’re slick, his fingers easily moving over your clit with a laziness that he knows you like. You don’t want to be rushed-ever; it’s why you go to his place to begin with. “I’ll warm you up.”
“N-no.” You close your eyes, shaking your head as if falling out of this fantasy. “I want the blankets up here.”
Joel’s fingers pause now, head tilting up to you and frowning. He can see you more clearly now, his eyes having adjusted to the street lamps that filter through his curtains. You’re almost naked below him, frowning with your eyes downturned, looking toward his hand instead of his face. He brings his other hand up, tilting your chin to look directly at him. “What’s wrong, baby?”
You attempt at a scoff, but he’s not buying it. “I’m cold, I told you–”
“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” He gruffs, frown going deeper as he sees you shake your head. “You know I like to see how you react, touch you, look at you. Why do you want to be covered?”
“I’ll just put my shirt back on.” You snarl, teeth coming out to bite as you lean over the side of the bed, reaching for the shirt you had tossed off before he followed you into the bedroom.
His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your arm back and holding you to the bed. Unable to roll, you wiggle under him, pulling your hand free to reach again. When he catches you again, you groan unhappily, getting into a pulling and pushing match with him.
He’s stronger than you, the creases in his forehead deepening as he let’s you get away enough times to tire you out, but not letting you escape his question. “Quit fightin’ me, and tell me what is going on.”
Your hands are secured to the pillows below you, breasts bouncing from the intensity of it and your deep breaths. He can’t help how his eyes trail down, wanting to look at you, but seeing you squirm uncomfortably.
You stay silent, glaring at him and then looking to the ceiling as if you’re just going to ignore the question. Joel sighs, annoyance bubbling up in him and trying to tamp it down. It clicks suddenly in his head, that something must have been said to you. “Why do you want to be covered?”
Your eyes trail back to his, your furrowed brow slowly relaxing, the tension in your arms reducing to where Joel releases his grip and lets his fingers trail down to hold your torso. His hands wrap around you, his thumbs stroking at the soft skin under each breast. He’s not sure if your eyes are shimmering with tears, or if it is just a trick in the light when you say, “He…he asked if I had been working out lately.” You swallow, shaking your head. “A-and when I said no, he…he said ‘that’s obvious.’”
Joel’s breath comes quickly, his fingers subconsciously digging into your skin to hold himself steady. He said what? He can’t help but stare at you, waiting for more to come, but you just stare back with a slow buildup of tears in your lash line.
Another moment of silence before you’re sniffling, bringing a hand up to cover your eyes as if embarrassed. Joel releases you as he feels your body shutter, pulling the blankets up around you both and moving his fingers to cradle your head. He lets his dull nails scratch at your scalp, shushing and cooing at you until you’re pressed against him, naked skin on skin in a humid cloud under his blankets.
He lets you cry; it’s the first he’s really ever seen you do so since meeting you. You’ve always been strong, secure and confident in how you present yourself. He found it off putting, in some ways-he had never been with a woman that didn't need him. He was used to being the provider. But you’d always taken care of yourself, came and went as you pleased, and didn’t ask for anything else.
His heart swells with want. “You’re alright baby, I’ve got you.” He husks, moving his fingers to the back of your neck and massaging at the tense muscles there. “He’s a fucking moron, you know that don’t you? You’re beautiful, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
You shake your head, tears having stopped and a small smile making its way across your face. “No I don't, Miller.”
“You do.” He relents, tilting his head down to look at you again. Red eyes and wet lashes, but otherwise okay. His thumb runs under your eyes, absorbing tears from your face almost instantly. “He shouldn’t be speaking to you that way.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not a big deal. He’s right, it’s probably why our marriage isn’t going great.”
“That’s not true.” He says immediately, letting his thumb drift to your lower lip and pull it down briefly. “You think your marriage isn’t going well because he doesn’t find you attractive?”
“Among other things.” You sigh, now back to your previous demeanor. Your fingers are dancing over his chest, swirling his chest hair around. “Joel, it’s fine.”
“It’s not.” He argues. “You’re someone any decent man would want. How can he just–”
“Please just, let’s move on.” You cut him off, pressing a flat palm firmly into his chest.
He closes his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose to calm himself down from giving a full lecture. He wants you to understand, to hear him fully. You deserve better than what you have.
You both lay there silently for a moment, just breathing together and not moving. He keeps his eyes on yours, watching yours flick down to his mouth and feeling the way you minutely move towards him. He doesn’t dare move, wanting you to be the one that initiates.
Your hand is gentle against his lower stomach, gliding down again to his now softened cock. It stirs, easy to respond to you. Joel stops your hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes.” You’re breathy, pupils having gone wide as he lets go of your wrist. It doesn’t take him long to get hard again with how you move your hand, his mind both empty and racing with thoughts.
When you roll on to your back, offering a silent invitation for him to get on top, he’s eager to let his legs tangle with yours and settle between your thighs. He presses his mouth to your collarbone, trailing down below the blanket as you wished for before, his tongue peeking out when he gets to your core.
You sigh happily when his tongue meets your clit in slow, agonizing circles. He prefers to watch you when he does this, eyes up on your face as his tongue swoops back and forth, over and over the hood of your clit until you’re squirming and reaching down to fist at his hair. He likes watching your neck shine with a thin layer of sweat, the way your hair begins to stick to your face and your eyes closing tightly to just feel him.
But right now he’s below the covers, holding one leg down and open to better feast on his meal, the other reaching up and intertwining his fingers with yours. The hand not in his must be bracing yourself against his headboard, your moans muffled by the sheets and blankets surrounding him.
He lets his tongue dip into you, squeezed briefly by your walls and the yelp you let out makes him chuckle. You never expect the first intrusion, spreading your legs wider to let his shoulders be flat against you, his laugh vibrating against your skin.
He continues this pattern, dipping into you with his tongue, circling your clit, and back again. He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, over and over to the point that he’s closed his eyes to feel you instead of watching you. His cock is hard between his legs, pressing against the end of his mattress and begging to be touched by your hand.
There’s a gust of cool air as you lift the sheet away from him, tossing it to the cold side of the bed and reaching down to his hair. He groans again, missing the feeling of your hand on any part of him, and he winces at the tug you give.
You’re pulling him up, wanting his lips on yours and for him to cover you. He obliges, pressing his lips to yours and grabbing at your thighs to lift around his middle. It would be embarrassing, how hard he is for you right now, pressed to your center and grinding against the slick that he left there, but he can’t care right now.
You want him, and that’s his priority; keeping you wanting him.
“Taste so sweet, baby. You want a little?” He says gently against your lips, pressing into your again and letting his tongue sweep into your mouth. You moan, a high and breathy sound that he loves. “That’s right, you like that, don’t you?”
He waits for your nod of approval, how you lunge for his mouth again and happily kiss his lips and jaw as he adjusts his hips to better line himself up with your center. “Joel, please, get inside me already.”
“Impatient.” He mumbles, smirking at you and tilting his head to bite at your ear. He knows you’re ticklish there, wanting to hear your laugh another time before he fills you and loses all sense of himself inside you.
He feels you tilt your hips for him, letting your half-lidded eyes meet his. The head of his cock weeps, aching to be inside you. Joel moves himself to let his head rest against your waiting entrance, beginning the slow slide in.
He can’t stop the thoughts in his mind, racing around in circle. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Once fully seated inside, you both groan in unison, his arms strained to pull away just enough to look down to where you both are connected. “Fuck.” He bites out, looking back up to your face and letting one hand rest on your jaw. “You’re so fucking perfect around me.”
“Joel, move honey.” You whine, reaching out to his shoulders and pulling him back to you. Your nails dig into the taunt muscle, the feeling soothing him.
Honey.
You don’t call him that unless you’re in a different headspace–where you forget the circumstances of why you’re here. It was difficult early on for Joel to get you to relax, even though the act itself made you like putty in his hands. No, he focused on you mentally relaxing, truly forgetting your worries. When you were like this, he could say what he meant. “You’re so perfect baby.” He strains, thrusting into you at a slow and methodical pace. His hips press into the backs of your thighs, his fingers holding around your jaw tighter. “So fucking wet, you wanted this, huh? Wanted me to fuck you like this?”
You nod as he speeds up, the sound of your skin slapping against his now more prominent, the frame of the bed creaking quietly behind it. I love you. I love you. I love you.
He has to stop himself from saying it. The first time he had, he thought it would be the end of whatever the two of you had going. It had slipped out over six months ago, on your way out the door after riding him on the couch.
“I love you.” He had said quietly, watching you redress after climbing off of him.
You turned to him, a half smile on your face. “No, you don’t.” You said simply, waving at him and going on your way. He didn’t expect you to call him after that, and was shocked when just the next night you were on his doorstep waiting for him after work.
And now you’re below him, and just as every time before after that first admission, he wants to say it again. You’re crying out, asking him to come instead of announcing you’re going to, and he speeds up his movements. “You wanna finish around my cock?” He asks, his voice unrecognizable. “I’ll let you, go ahead baby. Let me see it.”
You nod, tears brimming your eyes again for a different reason than before. He feels you tighten in waves around him, sucking him in further as he tries to hold himself back. Joel continues to pump his hips, his lower back tingling with his own release ready.
“J-Joel–” you moan, digging your nails deeper into his shoulder. “Come inside me, pl-please.”
He grunts, forgetting himself and pushing forward with a whine he’s never heard leave his mouth. His eyes close as his come coats your walls, warm and welcoming of it. Joel rests his forehead against yours, sweaty skin pressed to sweaty skin, smiling down at you and breathing heavily. “Fuck baby–”
“Don’t call me that, honey.” You tease, eyes fluttering shut and an award winning smile spreading across your face.
He pulls out, wincing at how tight you are around him still, resting on his side and letting his arm wrap around your middle. “Stay?” He asks quietly, watching you turn your head and opening your eyes to look at him.
You think for a moment. “I need to clean up, and then I’ll decide.”
He grunts in disapproval, letting you slip out of his grasp and step into the ensuite bathroom. The light blinds him briefly, your ass the only thing he can see as you lean over the sink to get a closer look in the mirror. Joel props his head up, watching as you push up on the balls of your feet to get closer, your arms coming out to the door frame and leaning over to look at him. “Do you have wipes?”
He had bought some after the first few times of you being there, asking every time if he had any. He had got you to say what brand they were, and he kept them stocked now. “First drawer on the right.”
You hum happily, pulling out a face wipe and turning back to him, watching him as you scrub at your forehead and cheeks. “Did you want to clean up?”
He shakes his head. “Want to keep you on me, if you don’t mind?”
You smirk, rolling your eyes as if you don’t care. When you finish, you flick the light off and walk toward the bed, Joel blinded briefly from the change in light. “Where’d you go, baby?”
“I’m here.” You whisper, shifting the bed as you climb in and pull the covers from the other side to cover you both. You’re still naked, now cooled skin against him. “I’ll stay, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” He whispers back, smiling to himself and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, enjoying how you snuggle into his body and neck, fitting perfectly with him. “I’d let you stay as long as you want. You know that.”
You sigh, circling your fingers against his chest hair. “What if…” you trail off, fear taking hold of your voice in a way that makes Joel uncomfortable. He squeezes an arm around you, waiting. “What if I’m too scared to have things change?” You whisper, tensing in his arms.
Joel remains relaxed, his mind swimming with I love you, I love you, let me love you. He sighs, pressing another kiss to your head. “I’m here for when you need me, if you want me.” He says quietly, feeling you relax in his arms again.
Your eyelashes flutter against his skin, your breath slowing down and becoming deeper. As you fall asleep, Joel swallows harshly. He’s here when you need him, and it was never going to change.
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schrodingerscougar · 9 days
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Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.
Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.
For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.
The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.
He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.
“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”
That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”
You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.
“What got you thinking so hard?”
Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.
“Me?”
“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”
It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.
Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.
He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.
When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.
As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.
You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.
“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”
With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”
Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.
“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.
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leclewi · 17 days
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┊charles helping his grumpy girlfriend.
↝ hi, lovess! my first time writing here 🥹 i’m so excited. i hated this too much, it’s just a little scrap i wrote because i was bored, but i promise to bring something better !! hope you like it, kisses !
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the white sheets rustled as your sleepy body shifted on the bed. your hair sticking to the back of your neck from sweat, the room hot, the sheets on your legs uncomfortable.
your arms stretched to the other side of the bed, hoping to find charles there, to find your comfort in the form of a person, but he wasn't there. your eyes slowly opened, slowly getting used to the warm afternoon light and its heat.
your 30 minute nap turned into an hour, the cold cloudy sky you left behind when you closed your eyes were left behind and now everything was warm, bright and warm.
you got up, looking around the room for charles but couldn't find it. he wasn't. the last memory you had was kissing his face, joking and annoying him before going to sleep.
in addition to the memory with charles, what was left behind was his good humor. you were sweating, your hair sticking to your neck as you walked around the house feeling your body tired and heavy. the worst way to wake up after a nap.
when you arrived in the living room, you saw your boyfriend's racing simulator on, his back to you. he was adjusting the camera while waiting for the race to start, he was laughing and talking to his teammates on his headphone.
“hi, love” he said when your presence was noticed, due to your shuffling steps. blessed heat.
he turned his head to you, finding your form grumpy, not a smile on your face. “hi” you whispered, stopping behind his chair, resting your body on the material.
charles knew you well enough to know how you were doing, it sucked sometimes. “let me guess….” be asked, his hand coming to your waist, stroking it, as he looked at you with his green eyes. “hot in there?” he said. you nodded your head and let out a small groan, your eyes stung as you scratched them. a horrible feeling, making your mood even worse.
charles smiled, the perfect smile that made his days better. “poor thing” he whispered, teasing you. his hands wrapped around your waist, slowly pulling you to his lap. he turned the camera of the sim off and looked at you. “you left me to sleep and you are grumpy? really?” he said teasing as he kissed your cheek. you rolled your eyes and laid your head on your chest.
“well, i left you for a good, comfy, amazing nap, but i woke up from a horrible, hot and sweating one.” you whispered groaning. “I hate this.” you complained like a little kid, while snuggling on his chest.
he chuckled and ruffled your hair. “my bad” he said, smirking. “that’s what happens when you trade your boyfriend for sleeping.” he said shrugging.
charles could be a pain in the ass when he wanted to be, and right now he wanted to be. his smirk would be much prettier if it wasn’t for his teasing while you were still in a dying sleepy mood.
“bla bla bla, you had the chance to sleep with me, but you preferred to lose on the sim” you said and looked at him, your neck in a free way for his lips.
he took the chance and leaned down, leaving little kisses on your skin. “at least i’m not sweat, hot and grumpy. and excuse me, i won something.” he said teasing and proud of himself.
he knew what to make to feel you better, he knew you too well. his lips founded their way of your skin, going to your neck to your jaw. the shivers that was starting to make you feel made your body more alert, warning the sleep away. making you feel better.
his lips had a smile when he didn’t heard your voice and complains anymore, he knew his effect. “wake up” he whispered while he left his trail of kisses, you smiled faintly and closed your eyes.
“wake up, babeeee” he whispered annoying you and smirking, his hands going to your belly disguised it, starting to tickle you.
and it went like that. charles having his effect on you like countless times, the grumpiness went away when he kissed you, when his hands tickled you, when his breath had hit yours, when he chuckled along you.
“you are mean” you say after escaping his lap after the tickle session, already better and no more grumpy.
“well, at least i get to see your pretty smile again.” he said proud of himself, looking back to his sim. “grumpiness doesn’t match you, amour. your pretty smile does.”
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mvybanks · 1 year
Note
Hey I love your work could you make a jj x reader imagine where jj comes back from work stressed out and enters the chateau in a bad mood. Y/n is sick and has been puking up all day, her and jj are alone at the chateau and he snaps at her over something, he slams the bedroom door. Then minutes later he hears her being sick in the bathroom and sees her pale face feeling bad that he was rude to her. He then apologises and cuddles her in bed making sure to help her when she didn’t feel well xxx
the one where jj doesn’t know you’re sick
a/n: hii, thank you! i’m not really fond of jj being mad at reader for no reason so i don’t know if this is good tbh but i hope you like it! (also this is kind of a jj x routledge!reader but it’s not that obvious)
warnings: angst, jj is a jerk
my masterlist
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it’s not like you hate your friend kie, but you would’ve really preferred if she had told you she was sick before coming to your place the other day. now here you are, lying limp on your couch, after having puked up the entire morning, with an annoying runny nose.
you’ve been waiting for your boyfriend to come back from work for hours, you just want to lie down with him and being with him, so when you hear the sound of his bike coming from outside, you smile immediately.
“hey, baby. how was work?” you ask as soon as you see jj walking through the door. the thought of having him home with you is enough to make you feel better instantly.
“i don’t feel like talking, y/n.”
you know work has been rough on him lately and you feel so bad about what he has to endure that you don’t even notice the anger in his voice.
“oh. did something happen?”
“god! what’s so hard to understand? i told you i don’t wanna talk!” he snaps, looking at your confused and shocked expression. he’s never talked to you this way.
“jeez, i was just asking,” you raise your hands in defeat, still not really sure of what’s going on and why he’s treating you like this.
“yeah, well— don’t,” he walks to the fridge and continues, “perfect. john b drank all the beers. that’s just perfect.”
his tone is full of venom and annoyance, his whole demeanor has changed since he kissed you goodbye this morning and you’re not really sure you know the guy that just walked into your house. this isn’t the guy you know and love, the guy that treats you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.
“you know you could be a little less of a dick,” you can’t stop yourself from saying the words, spatting at the stranger that’s now walking towards your shared room.
“do you ever stop talking?” he yells before slamming the door of your room behind him, leaving you speechless in the living room.
your stomach hurts and you don’t know if the sudden tightness in your throat is caused by your sickness or the interaction you just had with your boyfriend. your eyes sting from the tears that you’re trying to hold in, although you don’t know how long you can keep them at bay.
jj has been your rock and your best friend since you were kids and he’s always treated you with nothing but respect, he has never raised his voice at you and he sure as hell has never made you feel small. except now, and you don’t know what this means, if it’s because he doesn’t think of you the same, if his love for you has suddenly vanished or if he’s not happy anymore, and it hurts.
you don’t even notice that you’ve fallen asleep on the couch, too immersed in your thoughts, until you wake up with an impending urge to puke. you immediately get up and run to the bathroom, spilling all the contents of your stomach inside the toilet.
meanwhile, your boyfriend has been rummaging on what he’s said to you before for hours. he feels so much regret, almost disgusted with himself, that when he walked into the living room before and saw that you were asleep, he wanted to cry at the sight, because he wanted to wrap you in his arms but he knew he didn’t deserve it, striding back into your room.
when he hears the sounds coming from outside the door as you run to the bathroom, he walks out and takes advantage of the situation to talk to you. he knocks on the door a couple of times but no answer comes from the other side.
“angel, listen, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have treated you-“ he starts, but the sound of you being sick stops him, “what’s going on? are you okay? let me in!”
he begins to panic as he imagines the worst.
“it’s open, you idiot,” you shout although the weakness in your voice is evident.
when he opens the door and finds you on the floor, he comes rushing in and kneels in front of you as worry is written all over his features.
“why were you throwing up? did you eat that weird thing in that jar in the fridge? i swear i’ve told john b to throw it out so many-“
“i’m sick, you big dork.”
his face twists into something softer and you’ve missed that look on him, the one that shows you how much he cares for you.
“oh. why didn’t you tell me?” his voice is small as he curses himself for not noticing earlier.
“because you came in here being a big jerk when i only asked you how work was today. if you hate me so much, why don’t you just fucking break up with me?”
you finally snap at him, the pain that he caused you earlier still fresh in your voice. he almost cries at your words, breaking up with you is the last thing he’d ever do. he loves you so much sometimes it hurts and still he can’t believe that he’s treated you so badly that you think that he doesn’t love you anymore.
“hate you? what? no, angel, absolutely not. i could never hate you, i love you. i’m so so sorry. i really was a jerk-“
“a big jerk,” you correct him and he gives you that crooked smile of his that you adore.
“a big jerk. i’m sorry. my boss has been breathing on my neck for days now and i just get so frustrated, i’m not trying to find an excuse but i want you to know that you had nothing to do with it. i’ll never do that again, i swear.”
he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear and cradles your face in one hand. you close your eyes for a second, enjoying that comforting feeling that you’ve been craving all day from him.
“you’re lucky i’m sick or i would’ve killed you,” you mumble as you reopen your eyes.
“and i would’ve helped you,” he smiles and you chuckle at his words, his heart clenching at the sound he missed so much, “i’m serious, angel. don’t ever let me treat you like that. you deserve so much better.”
you sigh loudly and lean even further into his touch. he regrets what he has done and the thought of you being sick through all of this makes him feel nauseated as well.
“it’s okay, j. i forgive you. i don’t have any fight in me right now. give me a hug, please.”
you don’t have to tell him twice, his arms wrap immediately around your figure. your head rests safely against his chest while his lips press against your forehead.
“c’mere,” he whispers as one arm slips underneath your knees to pick you up and bring you to bed.
he lies with your body on top of his and strokes your back in order to bring you more comfort. you nuzzle your head into his neck and finally let your whole body relax.
“i love you so much, you know that, right? i’ll make it up to you when you feel better,” he says before kissing your head.
“mh? how?”
you raise your head and it takes one look at his face, with that smirk of his playing on his lips, to understand what he means.
“ohhh, baby, you’re not that lucky,” you chuckle before resting your head again.
“hey, a man can dream.”
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pinejayy · 9 months
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Mine and Mine only (Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader)
synopsis: you were there for muzan when he was sick, you just wanted him to get better. later on you find out that he kills the man who was taking care of him, and now he’s a demon. and you’re his and his only. // spoilers from new episode 
warnings: slight smut, muzan is rude, death and blood
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You hated seeing your love one in so much pain, it really broke your heart. Currently you were dating the love of your life, Muzan, and you wanted nothing but for him to get better so you guys could live a happy and normal life. But the sad truth was that he wasn’t gonna live past the age of 20, but the guy who was treating him was trying his best to help him out. And of course Muzan would not appreciate it, you didn’t ask him why but it just sadden you seeing him like this.
As you and Muzan were in his room, enjoying your time together. “Sweetheart I know you’re not feeling the best but I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk while the sun sets?” You ask him, as you held his hand, giving it a slight squeeze. 
Your love one couldn’t help but sigh softly as he looked at you. “I would love to but you know how the medicine makes me feel..” He said, moving his hand away from yours. Making you frown, you look away and just nodded. “I understand Love..” 
As he was about to speak you guys saw the doctor walk in, he was holding a cup. “Hello sir. I have a new medicine for you..” He said, smiling at you which you returned. He turned to look at Muzan, giving him a gentle smile. “Here you go sir.” He said, handing him the cup. Muzan snatched the cup from his hand and looked at him. 
“Thank you..” He hisses at him, and drinks it. 
“I’m sorry sir, but I’m working on something I’m sure it’s going to help you out.” He said, and after that the man left. Leaving you and Muzan alone in the room. 
Looking at him “You know you don’t have to be rude, he’s trying to help you out Love..” And Muzan quickly snapped his head towards you. “Hpmm, yeah right. He’s not doing a good at it.” 
“Hey don’t be like that Muzan, you can’t be so cold..especially towards to the people who are trying to help you.” You say, placing a hand on his shoulder. But he moved his shoulder. Not wanting to feel your touch.
“Please I want to be left alone..” He said softly. You look at him and try placing your hand again on his shoulder. “ALONE! NOW! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND Y/N!” 
You whimper as he yelled at you, you just move back and nodded. “Okay sweetheart, I’m sorry.” You say, now getting up and walking to the door, before you could leave you turn around and look at him one last time. “I’ll see you tomorrow love, I love you..”
Muzan just laid on the bed and didn’t really bother answering you back. He just gave a little hum. Making you sigh and you walked off leaving him alone. 
The Next Day
It was the next day and you were on your way to see your lover, you hoped that he’s in a better mood. You didn’t let his harsh attitude get to you, you know that he’s probably scared. You just wanted to be there, as you walk towards his room, he wasn’t there. How odd? He’s always there. 
Maybe you should try the room of the man who’s helping him out? As you walk towards the room you couldn’t help get a feeling deep down on your stomach..as you walk to the room you were shocked when you stepped in. There was blood all over the floor. 
You gasped slightly, your eyes began to water up. As you were about to back away and yell for help someone grabbed you and dragged you to the corner of the room. Letting out a scream, but you were quickly quite. A hand was over your mouth. 
“Shh don’t scream sweetheart.” 
Hearing Muzan’s voice, you started to calm down. He slowly lets you go and you turn around. And he seemed different, his eyes were pink. And he seemed to have more of a muscular body. “What happened to you? And what happened to him!” You say pointing at the body.
“Shh, I can’t tell you yet sweetheart. Your human mind won’t understand.” Muzan smirked at you, as he started to walk towards you. “Come here, I wanna hold you.”
“Did you do this? Did you kill him!” You say, and he just smirked nodding at your question. And you started to back away, and you were ready to run away but he was quick enough to catch you. Pinning you down to the floor. 
“Please sweetheart..I’m feeling better. Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asked you, getting on top of you. “I’m better for you, for us...now I can treat you like a queen.” He leaned in and placed a small kiss against your neck. You could have sworn you felt fangs. “I can make you feel good..” 
You couldn’t but blush at his words, and shook slightly. You look at the the dead body on the floor...and Muzan didn’t appreciate that you weren’t paying attention to him. He grabbed your face forcing you to look at him. “Please sweetheart I’m feeling better, don’t mind him..” He said, leaning in and placing a small kiss on your soft lips.
You of course melted at his actions, Muzan hardly showed any affection to you and now that he’s kissing you, you’re loving this and are craving for more. He smirked into the kiss. His hands were roaming around your body and you couldn’t help but blush. “Please sweetheart, I had to do it..but I’m better now.” He said as he pulled away from the kiss. “Now I can make you feel good, would you like that?” 
Blushing you couldn’t help but nod at his comment. He smirked and picked you up so you would face away from the dead body that was in the room. He pins you against the floor. “Are you sure you want this, I just wanna make sure..” 
You nodded and whisper a tiny “yes” making Muzan smirk and he leaned in and started to kiss your neck, finding your sweet spot and sucking on it until he left a marked on you. You were moaning slightly..what's gotten into him?
Soon after he hand his hands all over your body, and soon after you were both naked. You were blushing, as you stare at his body. Wow he looked so handsome..
“You look good sweetheart I could eat you right up.” He said, his hand slowly started to trace your stomach and slowly his fingers found their way to your wet folds. He rubbed your pink sensitive clit, making you moan softly. “M-Muzan..” You moan out. 
Making him smirk at your reaction. “Yes?” He said, rubbing your clit slower, as if he was teasing you. “Do you need something?” 
You couldn’t help but moan loudly now, biting your bottom lip. “I need you please, I need you inside of me..” And he just smirked at your words and pulled his fingers away from your clit, but before he pulled his fingers away from your heat he dragged one single finger on your wet slit. And then bringing that finger to his mouth sucking on it. “God you taste so good.” 
Blushing you look away for a few seconds, making him chuckle. “Shh just relax and your Lord is going to make you feel good.” 
And with that he grabbed his cock, slowly he started to line it up with your entrance. “This might hurt, so bare with me.” He said, and slowly he pushed the tip into your entrance making you moan out. And little by little he started to push his full length in.
Once he was fully in he stayed still for awhile letting you adjust to his size. “You feel so good wrapped around me..” He hissed out. “Just let me know when you’re ready.” 
You whimper softly. “Just go slow..please.” 
Muzan nodded as he placed a kiss on your cheek. And slowly he started to move his hips. He loved how you felt, he needed more but he had to hold on as he didn’t want to hurt you. “You’re doing a good job princess.” 
You moan out as he was hitting your sensitive areas. You wrap your legs around him, moving your hips against his. “Please Muzan, I need more..I crave for more.” 
“As you wish my love..” He said and he gripped your hips and started to move faster and rough. HIs cock  thrusting in and out of you. You were a moaning mess underneath him. “Are you enjoying me cock? Do you like it when I fuck you?” He teased. He leaned and started to place kisses all over your neck, he had to hold the urge to sink his fangs into your skin..
“Yes..I love how your cock feels inside of me.” You whimper out, moaning out. God it felt so good, his cock and his kisses against your neck. 
Muzan smirked as he kept on moving in and out of your heat he couldn’t help but let out a deep moan. He was hitting all the right spots. And he knows he was doing a good job with all the faces you were making and the sweet moans that were coming from your lips. 
“Oh right there sweetheart.” You moan out as he hit your g-spot, and he smirked at your reaction and placed a kiss on your lips. “Oh you like that.” He said and angled himself so he could hit that spot.
“Please I’m close, please I’m so close baby..” You moan out. 
He growls slightly and moans out. “Me too sweetheart. Just a little more can you handle a little more..” He said moaning out, he began to move rough making you cry out. But after a few more pumps he felt close, and he felt your walls tighten around him. 
“Now sweetheart.” He said, and once he said that you both reached your climaxes and moan out. Giving a few more pumps he slowly pulled out making you whimper. Smirking as he watched his cum leak from your hole.
“That felt amazing..” You gasp out. 
Muzan looked at you and he had a huge smirk across his face. “I know, and see I told I felt better..” He said, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Just rest sweetheart you’re going to need it.” 
“But what about him?” You say, as you sat up and pointed at the dead body. 
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of that..you just rest please.” He said. Making you nod. He helped you up and helped you lay down onto the bed that was in the room. 
“I love you Muzan.” You say softly.
Making him smile, he kissed your lips and pulled away. “I love you too Y/N...But shh you need to rest. I need to tell you something important once you wake up.” You just nodded and smile at him. Soon after you slowly started to drift to sleep. 
Muzan just sat there looking at you, he could just eat you up. Oh how much he loves you! Now he had to wait until you woke up so he can tell you about his new self...he wonders if you will still love him. And if you don’t he’ll simply force you to love him...He wants to show you what this new him can do. But at the end you’re always going to be his and his only
“You’re Mine and Mine only Y/N” He said to himself as he watched you sleep.
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rubywithecat · 9 months
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When u try to turn them on (JJK men)
<<T/W: Minors do not interact as some mature contents are included>>
Gojo Satoru
You made a bet with ur friends that if u can make ur professor, Gojo, kiss u, they have to buy u concert ticket. U first showed up with revealing shirt to the class, catching him starring. And when everyone leave after lecture, u stayed with him to ask him about assignment, pretending u don’t understand certain parts. He just gave a smirked as he looks like he know ur intention but he played along, explaining the lesson.
U gazed at his pretty mouths and fck he’s so hot and u wanted to kiss him so bad, with or without bet. “Can’t focus huh?” He smiled and touched your face. You caught off guard by it. “Do u think I’m a fool as I can see your brat friends peeking from the door” he said. Ur eyes widened as he laughed softly, hands grabbing you closer. Who would think u would get a full make out session when u just wanted a kiss. But it’s worth it anyway. “U owe me one, angel” he said after that, winking.
Toji Fushiguro
U hated him as he’s your stepdad. U didn’t wanna share ur mum with anyone except ur dad. But ur dad passed away years ago sadly and here u are stuck with your stepdad in the house. Toji isn’t the man that is bad looking and even so, he looks so hot! But it’s doesn’t changed ur hatred. So, u decided to make him feel uncomfortable. When he was watching TV in the living room, u purposely dropped the remote and squatted to pick it up right in front of him. U could feel his gazes on ur hips.
U smirked, feeling satisfied as he walked away from the couch and went to his bedroom. “Serve u right” u muttered. And yelled loudly from ur room as if u are in video call with ur bf, doing 18+. “OmG! I’m gonna c*m! Ur so good!”
U laughed in victory when u head Toji slammed the door but what u didn’t expect was he’s coming to ur room. Sh*t u forgot to lock the door.
U rushed to lock there but it was too late as he is already in front of u. “What are u doing here?!” U shouted. “To teach u how to be a good girl” he smirked.
Sukuna Ryomen
Sukuna is ur bestfriend yuuji’s elder brother. Whenever u go his home, u feel excited just seeing him. U know he has a reputation of being a womanizer but can’t help having a crush on him. Yuuji complained how he has to dealt with noises from his brother room and u kinda get jealous just with the thought of him with other women. U wished it was u whoever gets the chance to get his attention, u thought they were lucky.
One day when u went to Yuuji house to study togther, u didn’t expected to be opened the door by Sukuna. He never look at u in the way u wanted. U r just like a lil sis to him u thought. “Hi…umm…is yuuji there? We are studying for coming test…” u awkwardly told him. “Yuuji hasn’t come back home, said he will be late with traffic jam” he said as he lighted his cigarette. “Why don’t u come in?” He said as he looked at u. U were so nervous. “Do u not trust me?” He said as he raised his eyebrows. “No— it’s not like that” u laughed in awkwardness and made ur way into the house.
U sat on the couch and he said next to u, grabbing his drink. “U want some?” He asked and at first u we’re gonna reject but u are already in bad mood, having bad day at school so u accepted his offer. As u have drunk much and felt high, he felt more courage to seduce him.
“Do u have a type Sukuna?” U asked him. He looked at u for sec and giggled. “U wanna know huh?” He asked. U became a lil playful and suddenly touching his lap and bit your lips. “Yea” u whispered into his ears which surprisingly turned him on. He would be lying if he said he has never thought of sleeping with u. In truth, he has been desperate for u too since u have been hanging out with his brother. He would imagine of u when he is fcking one night stand and he could never c*m as they weren’t u.
He get mad sometimes at how u could control him so he avoid u as much as he can to forget about u but u kept showing in sight of him.
The tension between u two is so intended and it ended with just a passionate kiss when yuuji came back home. “Meet me in the car after ur lil study section with my stupid bro” he smirked as he got up from his couch, greeting Yuuji.
Nanami Kento
Ur boyfriend has been really busy with his works lately. So u got an idea of punishing him and make him desperately want u by sending ur n*de pics to him.
He opened the message as he saw it’s from u and the meeting was 5 min away to start. He almost dropped his phone when he saw ur sl*tty picture. He covered his phone protectively in case someone taking a peek.
As the meeting continues, he can’t focus on what his employees saying and his thoughts are just on u. He dismissed the meeting earlier than the actual time and drove fast to home where u were waiting for him with a red lingerie on u, smiling at him innocently. “U have been really a bad girl and u know that right?” He said as he chuckled. Then he gently patted ur hair but slowly moving his hands to ur neck and suddenly pushed u to the bed aggressively. I will treat u as bad as the brat u are” he said, smirking as he make u bent down on your knee.
Hope u enjoy! Likes and shares and comments would be really helpful <3 Thanks!
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Text
The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Part 6: Darling
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: PART 6 HAS ARRIVED! Thank you for all of your support! A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and being my beta! Enjoy and blessed be! (p.s. ghost drinking an orange sodie lol) << Previous | Next >>
Simon could hear his daughter’s screams as he came up the walkway to their front door, duffel slung over his shoulder. He had returned from a month-long deployment an hour ago and only allowed himself enough time to debrief and return his weapons once on base before hopping in his car and heading home.
He entered the house, still in full gear (mask and all), to find his heavily pregnant wife pacing the living room, their crying daughter in her arms. Her eyes and cheeks were red when she turned to the door, sobbing in relief at the sight of him.
“Oh, sweetheart. What’s going on?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door and going to her.
“She has a-a cold.”
“I can see that.” He wiped at the snot and drool on Joanie’s lip with his glove. “Where’s Roach?”
“He went to pick König up. You didn’t see him?”
“No. Must’ve just missed ‘im.” When Price handed out assignments for their most recent deployment, Roach had offered (more like decided) to stay with Freyja for the duration of his absence. With König also deployed, it made sense for him to help her with the baby and housekeeping while Simon was gone. Better than staying on base – alone – for a month. Knowing someone was in the house with his family made him feel better about leaving for such an extended period, especially with his track record. The last time he had left the country, leaving his pregnant spouse behind…
Simon rubbed his daughter’s back, his heartstrings tugging at the thought of her being in pain. “Give ’er here, I’ll take a turn.”
“Si, no, you must be exhausted-”
“I am exhausted, which means I’m in no mood to argue. Go to bed, love, please.”
His pleading didn’t seem to affect her as she went back to doing laps around the couch. “The doctor said there’s nothing we can do. It just has to pass. I’ve tried everything. Chest salve, shower steam, saline – nothing’s working. Every-Every time we put her down or sit down, the screaming just gets worse. Can’t stop…moving, and your son is kicking the shit out of me-”
This was ironic, considering how Joan only kicked when Simon or one of their friends spoke or touched her belly. Now, their son only ever kicked for her.
“Freyja.”
She stopped her rambling and found he had stepped into her path; he firmly held her biceps and dragged his hands up and down. Freyja sniffled as another tear slipped down her cheek. No singular word could describe how she felt (and probably looked). Drained, fatigued, beaten, dog-tired; none quite did the trick.
“You look like shit. You need to get some rest.”
“No, Simon, please just go to…bed.”
Soon as Ghost took Joan and returned to massaging her spine, her wails simmered to quiet whimpers as she cuddled into him. She dropped her head onto his shoulder, little fingers hanging from the collar of his shirt to the top of his vest. Their baby was getting big, her senseless baby talk beginning to lean more toward coherent vocabulary. When Joanie cried a soft “Dada” against his neck, Freyja started to sob harder, the heels of her palms dug into her eyes. 
Shit. “What’s wrong? She stopped screaming bloody murder. That’s a good thing.”
“I’ve been trying to calm her down for hours! You come home, and after five minutes, you’ve fixed it. She hates me! She fucking hates me!”
“Frey, look at me.” He stopped comforting Joan for a moment to tilt his wife’s chin up, forcing her to listen to him. When she did, he took his hand back. “Babies see their mothers as an extension of themselves. She knows your heartbeat and breathing sounds; she gets food from you…”
“Who told you that?”
“…I read about it.”
Freyja softened, tears no longer flowing freely. “You read parenting books?”
“Of course I do. I want to be the best for them and you.” He pulled her into his chest with one arm, his covered lips pressing into her hair. “You are her mother. I could never take your place. You’re her home. But I’ve been gone for a month, and I’ve never been away from her this long. There’s something to be said about missing her dad and wanting some comfort.”
When Simon brushed her tears away, she turned to kiss his palm, then rested her cheek there. Freyja didn’t know how, but her husband sure had a way with words, always knowing how to make her feel better. 
“Better?”
“Mhm,” she hummed and, before she could reach to pull his mask up, Joanie whined in frustration, kicking her legs impatiently, about to start up again. Simon chuckled and let his wife go, his heavy boots thunking against the hard floor as he began what would be a long night of getting his steps in. 
“Good. Now do as Daddy tells you and go to bed. Don’t make me tell you again.”
.
.
.
Coming up on the end of her pregnancy, the ‘waddling’ stage was in full swing. If Freyja thought she was big just before Joan was born, she was almost certainly a whale now, and she was losing energy much faster than before. This time around, though, they were sure to schedule a c-section for the week before her due date. The OB didn’t put up much of an argument with her medical history and Joan’s early arrival.
Her phone pinged again as she rounded the corner toward her husband’s office.
And again.
Joan’s irritable whines became more evident as she closed in on her destination. “Si, I can only move so fast.”
“Oh, thank god.” Ghost detached Joan’s iron grip from his mask while she was distracted. She continued to kick her little legs against him, trying to get away. “She’s antsy. I can’t get her down for shit. She’s sick of me.”
He wheeled his chair around the desk and tugged her missing sock back on (to her protest) until he reached the other side and placed her feet on the floor. “See? Mum’s here. Go see her,” he cooed, her tiny hands gripping his thumbs for support.
“Dad Ghost” as she had lovingly coined Simon in his work attire, was a walking contradiction. An arguably massive man, a masked mystery to majority of the population on base, snapping otherwise cocky and egotistical soldiers back in line. Still, no one dared to laugh as he screamed at them for poor technique or a lackluster performance with a blonde baby on his hip or strapped to his back. It never failed to make her want to giggle, hearing such a soft, gentle tone from the big scary skull plate affixed to his balaclava. 
Freyja was halfway across the room when he stood their daughter between his comically large boots. “She won’t go that far,” she admonished. “If you give her too big of a task, she’s not going to even try-”
As if sensing her mother’s doubt, Joan took a steady step forward, still holding Simon’s hands in deep concentration. Then another, and another –
Until he couldn’t stretch forward anymore, and she let go, hobbling towards Freyja until she stumbled at her feet, letting out a soft baby grunt.
They both stared at each other in silence, eyes wide and mouths agape in shock. Neither spoke for a good minute, until Joanie pulled herself up again by Freyja’s cargo pants, babbling, “Mum mum mum mummm”, gnawing at the thick material and looking up with big, brown eyes.
“Did she just…?”
“I told you, she’s bloody brilliant.” Simon shot up to scoop the baby and place her in his wife’s waiting arms.
“My big, smart girl! I can’t believe it!” She squealed and giggled as Freyja peppered her face in fat, wet kisses and gently shook her. Ghost joined in, playfully nibbling at the rolls on the other side through the black material covering his face. Joanie smacked them both away, screaming with joy. Amongst all the commotion, Price stopped in the doorway on his way to their brief (which they were about to be late for). 
“What’s going on here?” he asked, fists on his hips in faux anger. “I thought we had an understanding! No fun at work without Granddad.”
“We officially have a walker on our hands!”
Price gasped and crossed the room in an instant. “And I missed it?!” He shoved the stack of mission folders at the lieutenant and stole his granddaughter from her mother, hiking her high up on his waist. “You walked without me? I’m offended, little miss, but I’ll settle for a victory lap.”
He plucked his green bucket hat off the top of his head and dropped it onto hers, earning a high-pitched shriek of delight when it covered her face. “Let’s roll, everybody. We’ve got a meeting to get to,” he commanded before marching down the hall. “Oi, lads! She walked!”
A chorus of cheers broke out in the distance, followed by a wall-shaking group chant, “Joanie! Joanie! Joanie!”
Freyja just stood there, pouting, arms crossed atop her belly. “Just once, I’d like to celebrate our baby’s milestones in peace.”
“You know that’s not possible, love.” Ghost chuckled next to her, offering a single pat to her ass as they headed to the briefing. While neither of them would be going, it was their job to know what was going on during their impending absence. The ruckus started to die down when the couple sat, and the others followed suit. Soap placed a mug of peppermint tea in front of her, which she thanked him for, and  Laswell, Gaz, and Soap filed around the table.
“Kӧnig and Roach should be here shortly,” Price said, bouncing Joan on his lap as Ghost passed out manila folders.
Gaz checked his watch with a furrowed brow. “It’s five past. Maybe they forgot?”
“Just give them a few minutes. I’m sure they’ll be here.”
“His office was closed, so he’s definitely in there. I can go grab ‘im. It’s no trouble,” he offered, the metal legs of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood up.
“Be my guest, Sergeant,” Freyja hummed, making eye contact with John as she sipped her tea, hiding her mischievous grin behind the cup. She waited for an appropriate amount of time, about how long it would take to take ten paces up the hall before she held up five fingers. 
“You’re a demon.”
“Five, four, three, two…”
“Verdammt nochmal!” 
There’s a loud bang, eerily similar to the sound of a six-foot-six body slamming into the floor. Boots thunder against the ground until Gaz appears in the doorway again, eyes wide and blushing like a madman.
“Genau deshalb habe ich das Militär verlassen, keiner von euch hat den Anstand, verdammt noch mal anzuklopfen!”
“Didn’t knock, did you.”
“Nope.”
“How bad?”
König stomped into the meeting, red as a tomato as he jerked his long, tangled (read: freshly fucked) hair into a knot at the base of his neck before slipping his hood on. Roach walked in behind him, grinning like an absolute idiot (read: clearly the one doing the fucking), albeit a bit flush, and his clothes untucked and wrinkled as he plopped beside John. 
“At least I didn’t get knifed this time.”
“Der Tag ist noch jung, Unteroffizier.”
“I don’t know what that means, but it sounded like a threat.”
“It was,” Freyja sang, her body shaking as she attempted to withhold laughter.
By the time Price had finished divulging the details of the op scheduled for the end of the month (which was also around the time of her c-section, which left Freyja and those deploying disappointed), Joanie had escaped his hold to crawl across the table and landed in her mother’s lap. She sat back against Frey’s round belly, happily gnawing on a teething ring while the captain combed her fingers through her soft, blonde curls. 
John cleared his throat and leaned back, tipping the chair on its back legs. “So…In a shocking turn of events, Roach is the top–”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY, CAPTAIN?!” Soap screeched after choking on his coffee, leaving a stain on his shirt as it dripped from his nose.
“Oh, mein Gott…” 
“I don’t know. What did I say, Sergeant?”
Across the table, Roach held his lips between his teeth as he wheezed, quickly signing, “Only for my king.”
“PLEASE PLÖTZE! Stop talking!” König, finally deciding he’d had enough, shot up from his seat and practically sprinted out of the room, almost bonking his head on the door frame on his way out. A moment later, he stormed back in and snagged his forgotten file awaiting him in Roach’s outstretched hand before turning back out.
Biting his lip, Soap muttered, “Interesting…” to himself, eyeing the Austrian’s retreating form before flicking back over to Roach. The Brit was already looking at him, probably having heard him being sat next to him. He winked with a devilish smirk, and practically purred, “S’alright, happens tae th' best o' us.”
.
.
.
A few days shy of their next mission, and the birth of the newest Riley, the gang gathered around their living room for one last game night before Roach, König, Soap, and John departed for another mission. Roach and König were less than pleased to be missing the birth of their godson, but it couldn’t be helped.
Kyle placed a red eight down on the stack of cards, ending his turn. “C’mon, mate, what’s the wildest thing you’ve done on a mission?” he prodded, raising a brow in Simon’s direction. “You know all our stories. It’s only fair.”
The two shared a knowing look, and Freyja giggled once before Kyle interrupted, “Besides that, you heathens.”
Simon pressed against the kitchen chair he had dragged in for himself, seriously considering what he would consider the most outlandish activity he had partaken in outside of combat. Particularly, that didn’t involve screwing his wife in places they shouldn’t, like public places, sniper lookouts, cars, or supply closets…
Before he could drift too far, he caught the saucy side-eye his wife was throwing him from her deep armchair.
“No.”
Soap peeked up from his hand with a quirked brow. “Does Ghostie have an embarrassing secret? Now we have to know!”
“It’s not a secret, and I’m not embarrassed by it just because I don’t flaunt it around,” he said, shot back the rest of his whiskey, and replaced his mask. Simon didn’t always wear it with their friends; he just so happened to feel inclined to it that night. There was no rhyme or reason as to when he needed the comfort; the urge just came and went as it pleased. 
He tried his best to sound completely disinterested, hoping the discussion would blow over as he threw down his card. “Blue.”
Unfortunately, his plan did not work, and all interest in their game of Uno was lost. Kyle threw his hand down on the table, completely giddy. “WHAT IS IT?! TELL US!”
Simon groaned, throwing his cards at his wife, who simply laughed. “See, look what you did.” He sighed and begrudgingly unhooked his mask from behind his ears, tossing that at her too. After a beat, he let his tongue loll out, revealing a silver ball.
Several (if not all) of their jaws dropped, save for Freyja’s, who was utterly thrilled that this was happening.
Johnny was the first to speak. “Is…that…” he stuttered, staring unabashedly in disbelief. 
He snapped his mouth shut again once everyone had had a decent look. “Alright, can we move on please–”
The Scot pounced across the space, clearing the coffee table as he knocked Simon out of his chair, taking them both down into a heap on the floor. They wrestled as he tried to dig his fingers into Ghost’s mouth and pry it open again. “LEMME SEE!”
“JOHNNY!” Simon roared, bucking and thrashing his hips in attempt to get the man off, but he quickly scooted up until he sat firmly on his chest, knees pinning his shoulders as he yanked the piercing back out.
“Awe, so that’s why you’re always fuckin’ like horny teenagers! Oh, ah bet that feels good on your cu-”
“SHUT UP, SOAP!” “THAT’LL DO!” 
Freyja whipped her slipper at Johnny’s head, which he swiftly dodged. Meanwhile, Gaz was face down on the floor, having a fit and struggling to breathe. Price looked like he would actually rather die than endure another moment of the scene unfolding at his feet. Kӧnig was carefully weaving between people and furniture to remove Soap before he got hurt, and Roach stayed in his spot, mouth open in silent laughter.
Thank God Joanie was a heavy sleeper.
“Are you gonnae sit there ‘n tell meh that a’m wrong? A husband should always eat arse!”
“JOHNNY, OH MY FUCKING GOD!”
Kyle finally caught his breath and cut back in, “But does it WORK?!”
Everybody froze, including Kӧnig, whose hands looped under Johnny’s armpits, about to extract him. From underneath him, Simon glared up at his wife (who started this whole fucking mess). “Freyja–”
But Freyja, being the brat she is and loving the chaos, “…It works.”
Simon covered his face with both of his now freed hands, so utterly sick of her shit as the sergeant shook his shoulders, he and Gaz both screaming like madmen. Kӧnig still hovered over them, ready to remove Johnny if Simon called for it, his red hair up in a neat top knot at the crown of his head. A few strands hung loosely by his ears and at the peak of his forehead, framing his pale skin.
“AAAAAYYYYYY, SO YOU DO GIVE GOOD HEAD!”
He removed his shield at that, looking up at Johnny with a confused expression. “Who said I don’t give good head?”
Price flinched with a crinkled nose and grabbed his hat from the back of the couch. “That’s my cue.”
“Scary guys either have monster cock or scary good head,” Kyle stated as if it were pure fact.
“But he has both.”
“I can’t fucking take this.” Simon finally shoved at Johnny and the Austrian lifted him with ease, standing the Scot back on his feet.
Soap dusted off his pants. “Damn, you’ll have’ta get one’a those, Köni,” he teased and turned to face the giant, looking up at him with a boyish grin. 
König’s skin, ever the shy one, immediately painted itself a rosy hue, unable to be hidden by any hood or mask. Even Roach was taken by his brashness and turned a little pink himself, choosing to sip his drink. König was, unfortunately, frozen in place, wide eyes staring down at Johnny’s proud face.
Three seconds pass.
Then two more.
Then three again.
“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS THEM?! The threesome you told me about a few weeks ago, was them?”
With nowhere else to go, König collapsed onto the couch and pulled the neck of his sweater over his face. “Verdammter Himmel, Johnny…” If he could crawl into a hole and die, he would.
“What can ah say? M’services are world-class.”
“Can confirm,” Roach added, having put his glass down so he could use both hands to talk.
Johnny raised a brow and dragged his eyes from Roach’s shoes, slowly up his shins, then his thighs and chest before settling on the challenging smirk on his freckled face. “‘S that so?” he asked, stepping into the space between Roach’s knees and the table.
Roach simply nodded, looking up at his boyfriend through hooded lashes, resembling a lovesick puppy with shocking accuracy. He knew exactly what he was doing, too, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth. Roach was a…talented flirt, to say the least.
His glass was carefully removed from his hand and placed on a coaster. Without a second thought, Soap wrapped his fingers around Roach’s wrist, dragged it behind his neck, and tossed the man over his shoulder. Gaz gaped, completely dumbfounded into silence – flabbergasted, if you will. He paused in the entryway, looking over his opposite shoulder.
“You comin’, Kö?”
König, still tucked away in the corner of the couch, peeked out from the cocoon he had created with his sweater. Even his forehead was tinged red, still. He openly stared for a bit before mustering up enough courage to rise again, and in an impossibly meek voice for such a large man, replied, “...Yes, sir,” and loosely tangled their fingers together.
Kyle threw his hands up then dropped them onto his head, dragging his cap back a bit. “WHAT IS GOING ON?!”
Freyja offered a sympathetic pat, her bottom lip jutted out. Poor Simon, who had returned to his seat, covered his mouth with one palm as he tried to contain his chuckles. He pulled his mask back on after retrieving it from the floor.
“Don’t worry, Gaz,” she said and poked his cheek. “We’ll find you a nice girl.”
“I GET AROUND FINE!” He swatted her hand away, glowering at her. “You’re all just a bunch of slags!”
He jumped up, abandoning his beer and putting his hat back in place. “Where’s my niece? I need to restore my innocence,” he grumbled, trudging upstairs.
“Simon, did he just call us sluts?”
“Yes, darling.”
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year
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comfort & chaos (carmy berzatto x fem!reader) chapter one: october 2019
summary: the five times carmen berzatto fell in love with you a little and the one time he finally told you: carmy, the recently promoted chef du cuisine at the best restaurant in the world, has no idea what he's in for when he accidentally spills his drink on the recently hired patissiere. (prequel to make my heart surrender)
warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, drinking & smoking, suggestive language. eventual smut.
word count: 4.5k
listen to: dover beach part 2 - baby queen | alaska - maggie rogers | less than i do - the band camino | 2 / 14 - the band camino
a/n: i'm back back back again! this is six part series will be a snapshot of carmy x reader's relationship in nyc that span across a three year period. i'm really looking forward to writing their friendship & so much repressed sexual tension it's not even funny. this is the first story i've published without it being almost or fully written so updates will maybe be more sporadic this time.
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October 2019 
“i was hoping somehow we'd end up together, outside, past midnight, and smoking cigarettes. the wallpaper inside my brain is decorated with your face. i'm lonely for you only, and i'm trying to convince you that i'm something you could love.” – dover beach (pt 2)
He hates you. 
You’re absolutely sure of it. 
You can see it in the way his body stiffens as you walk by – in the way he hasn’t stopped sending you long, piercing glares across the kitchen – in just how bright red his face turns when you catch him doing it. 
And for what? For being excellent? For being good enough to get a job after staging that one night?
Fuck that, you think to yourself.
You find Carmen Berzatto infuriating, and it begins to dawn on you that you may have had one too many gin cocktails to stomach the fact that you have to be here tonight. 
Here, at his promotion party. 
Here, at this stupid fucking bar that you hate. 
Here, because he’s sort of everyone’s boss now… and it’s something you’re just going to have to live with.
It hadn’t come as much of a surprise. There’d been talk of a leadership change (and Carmy filling the CDC position) when you had first started working here, but having a head’s up didn’t really help you now. You just hadn’t pictured having to go out for drinks to celebrate the man that seemed like he could barely stand being in the same room as you. But your friend Liz, one of the chef de parties at the restaurant, had insisted you come with, since she hadn’t wanted to go alone. You understood why you both had to go, so you’d invited your other best friend to help the both of you get through. 
You thank your lucky stars that your direct report is the head pastry chef and not Carmy. Using your boss as a buffer, you had used every excuse in the book to avoid interacting with him. 
Sure, he was brilliant. 
Sure, he was a wunderkind who had just gotten back from a three month stage at noma right before he was hired here.
Sure, he was kind of a total asshole. 
“Fuck that, man! C’mon. Just one shot. It’s your big night, motherfucker!” Nate calls out, practically shoving a shot into Carmy’s hand. 
“Oh, I- uh, I’m good, man,” Carmy stutters, trying to find an excuse not to take the shot. 
Truthfully, he hates shots… and he’s not much of a vodka drinker either. 
He’s just not in the mood to get hammered either, his thoughts consumed with tomorrow, his first day as chef du cuisine, going perfectly. 
You watch the uncomfortable interaction, almost feeling bad for the guy. Nate and the most recently promoted sous, Tim, are trying their best to corral Carmy into taking the shot as you walk by. You can see the uncomfortable look on Carmy’s face as he declines Nate’s offer for a second time. 
In fact, he seems like a different person tonight. He’s… boyishly awkward, almost, and you wonder if he’s maybe not so great in social situations. As you pass by, drink in hand, you hear a cacophony of sound. Carmy’s trying his best to dodge his friends’ next attempt, and before you know it, Nate’s practically pushing him towards Tim, sending Carmy backwards, tumbling right into you. 
You feel the wet liquid of your gin and tonic, along with the shot of vodka that’s flown out of Carmy’s hand spill all over your shirt. The shot glass shatters as it hits the floor, and the sobering feeling of ice cold liquid soaking through your shirt causes you to shriek. 
“Shit! What the fuck, Carmy!” you yell, angrily, as you push him off of you.
At this point, you could care less that he’s everyone’s new boss, and the drama of it all has caught the attention of almost all of the other restaurant staff that have come out tonight. Your friends rush towards you, searching for as many napkins as they can grab. 
“Fffffuck,” is all he says back and you can’t believe he’s yelling at you right now. You watch as his face changes quickly, from angry, to thoroughly shocked as he begins to stammer through an apology. 
“I-. I’m sorry I-. I didn’t mean to-.” 
He scrambles to help you, with one cocktail napkin as you push him away, your friends rushing to your side. 
“No! I don’t want your help,” you grit through a clenched jaw. 
“Shit, your shirt is ruined… C’mon,” Liz says, as she ushers you away shooting a glare in Carmy’s direction. 
“Damn, man. You could just ask her out,” you can hear Nate say, even though you’re too preoccupied with examining the damage of your totally soaked through t-shirt. 
So much for a chill evening. 
“Oh shut up, Nate,” Maya snaps at the sous. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You nod, following her as she leads you away towards the bathroom. 
Back at the bar, Liz is trying her best to remedy the situation, trying her best to clean up the mess you left behind. She watches Carmy closely, trying to figure out whether she’s going to pay for this tomorrow. But instead of being angry, he just seems embarrassed… remorseful, even. There’s a small part of her that feels bad for the guy as it becomes clearer that he may just not be great in social situations.
As soon as you get to the single-room bathroom, you're swearing loudly and stripping off your shirt. It’s completely see through and you know you’re going to smell like a distillery until you can get home to shower. 
“I told you. He hates me,” you pout, examining your reflection in the mirror, a scowl glued to your face. You dap a few dry paper towels across your chest.
“I think it was just an accident, sweetie,” Maya says, sympathetically, as she tries her best to console you. 
“Yeah, I know,” you admit in defeat.
As much as you’d like to blame this on him, you know it wasn’t his fault. 
“Sorry I asked you to come tonight. If I knew it would be this much drama-,” you begin, before being promptly cut off. 
“Oh no, I’m all here for this drama,” she laughs, causing you to shake your head and lighten up a little about the situation.
As angry as you’d like to be with Carmy, you know that the truth of the matter is that he hadn’t meant to spill his drink all over you. You should be mad at Nate and Tim… but it just feels easier to be mad at Carmy considering. 
“Incoming!” you hear a voice say as Liz arrives. In her hands, she holds what looks like a white t-shirt, neatly folded up, that she hands to you. “Anyone in need of dry clothes?”
“Oh thank god,” you sigh with relief, glady taking it. 
“Good on you for having an extra,” Maya says. 
“Well, it’s a restaurant. You never know when you’re gonna need a change of clothes,” Liz shrugs, a glimmer in her eyes that Maya notices, as she says it. You find it a little strange that she seems to be watching you for a reaction, but you brush off the look she sends you, as you slide the dry t-shirt over your head.
The t-shirt isn’t much bigger than an oversized fit you’d buy for yourself – which makes sense because Liz is a bit taller than you. The cotton fabric hangs loosely over your form as your eyes flicker over to your completely soaked through shirt that lays crumpled up on the bathroom sink. 
“Well, ladies. We did our best,” you resign yourself, as you notice your still-very-wet bra begin soaking through the white t-shirt. 
“C’mon. Let’s see if we can get some more paper towels. Or uh.. See if the kitchen has a towel we can use,” Liz says, nodding her head towards the door. 
“We’ll be right back,” Maya reassures you, empathy in her eyes.
You watch as Liz follows her, leaving you alone in the bathroom. 
It doesn’t take long for the door to the bathroom to swing open again, which surprises you. You gasp as soon as you see who's come through the door, and you’re crossing your arms over your chest which may only make the wet bra, white t-shirt ordeal even worse. A very flustered Carmy stands in the doorway, his mouth hanging open as if he hadn’t expected you to be in here. 
“There’s uh… someone in here,” you scoff, unable to hide the irritation in the sound of your voice. You hug your arms closer to yourself, almost as if to cover yourself up. 
“No I-, yeah, I know I just-,” he stammers, his eyes shifting to the floor. He feels like he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and he can feel all the blood rushing to his face, instantly regretting his decision not to knock first. 
“I actually, uh… I came to apologize,” he manages to get out, his words quiet. He says it as if there’s an unintentional question mark at the end of his sentence. You can see the way he runs his eyes back and forth, trailing over the fancy floor tile, searching for the right words. 
“I didn’t mean to- I just-. Sorry…”
His demeanor surprises you. At work, Carmy’s this confident, commandeering, talented chef, but tonight, he seems anything but.
Nervous. Shy. Like a fish out of water, even.
You take a breath, trying your best to relax.
You can feel some of your guard coming down as you begin to accept he really hadn’t meant to spill his drink on you. But you’re not eager to forget the fact that he’s been kind of an asshole to you since you started working here. Unsure of how to respond, you give literal effort to replying with a:
“It’s fine. Thanks.”
He knows you don’t mean it. 
In fact, he can hear how painful it is for you to get out those words. 
You wait for him to leave, but Carmy continues to stand in the bathroom with you, awkwardly. But he doesn’t say anything, so you figure that the least you can do is deflect a little with humor. 
“I’ll uh-, invoice you for the therapy session,” you say, trying to eliminate any malice in your tone so that he knows you’re joking. “Walking home in a wet shirt on the streets of NYC is gonna be… fun.”
“Oh uh…” he trails off, his face turning a darker shade of red. 
“I’m kidding,” you state, searching his face for any kind of expression. 
This man is impossible to read, you think to yourself.
His eyes are still glued to the floor as he begins to move, mumbling something you can’t quite hear in response to your failed joke. Carmy slides out of the denim jacket he’s wearing, before taking hold of it, extending an arm out to you. 
“Sorry um-. Here,” he says nervously, and it’s the first time he’s allowed his eyes to meet yours. “You can uh-. You can wear this. For your walk home.”
Well, that wasn’t what you were expecting. 
And had his eyes always been that blue?
Your face softens. 
You take the jacket hesitantly, holding it in your hands. This time you mean it when you say:
“Thanks.”
“Least I could do,” he shrugs, daring to meet your eyes with his again. 
You slip the jacket over your shoulders as the two of you stand a few feet apart. The air feels thick, and at this point, you’re not sure how to feel. Even though your bra has continued to soak through the white t-shirt, the way his denim jacket feels wrapped around your shoulders feels like an added layer of protection.
“After uh-. You know I-,” he stumbles through.
“Yeah. No I uh-. Thanks, again,” you repeat, cutting him off. 
Might as well put the poor guy out of his misery. 
“Anyways, I’ll make sure to get this back to you,” you interject, your voice much more reassuring this time. 
“Yeah,” he nods. 
You swear you can almost see the corner of his lips turn up, but you’ve never really seen him smile, so it’s not like you have much to compare it to. Carmy excuses himself, and you watch as he leaves, genuinely grateful for the peace offering. 
The way that Carmy’s jacket hangs heavily around your shoulders makes you wonder if it’s real denim. You notice that it smells like him too: a faint scent of cigarettes, Old Spice deodorant, whatever scented laundry detergent he uses that feels familiar. 
You and Carmy don’t speak again, save for a few short exchanges at work, but he’s been on your mind. Your interaction the other night had left an impression on you – albeit a strange one – and you’re not sure why you haven’t returned his jacket yet. 
It’s not till a few days later that you speak again, leaving another strange impression on you. You head into the walk-in to get a few quarts of heavy cream and as you pull the door open, you find a flustered Carmy standing there. He’s got his hands on his hips and eyes glued to the floor with an exasperated look on his face as he watches the plastic storage containers he’s just thrown clamor across the floor. You gasp, shocked by the loud sounds, and Carmy knows he’s not alone. 
As he turns to you with a glare on his face, you notice that Carmy’s eyes are puffy, his cheeks flushed red, and he looks sick as a dog. 
His eyes are wide with embarrassment for a moment, before returning to their normal, stoic focus, hardened by a less than positive interaction with the exec chef. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, uncomfortably. He gestures towards the storage containers on the floor, before running a hand through his neatly slicked back hair. 
“It’s uh, you’re good, chef,” you say, trying your best to put your wall of professionalism up. 
You had witnessed the demeaning encounter from the exec chef – everyone had. It had been impossible not to. He’d practically breathed down Carmy’s neck, taunting him for his lack of focus today, that he’s a little bitch for letting allergies get to him. 
To say that the man was emotionally abusive would be an understatement. 
You should leave – turn and go, and pretend that this never happened – that you’d seen nothing. But instead, you stay. 
“You good, chef?” you ask softly, a hint of concern in your voice.
He sniffles again, the searing headache that robs him of his focus only burning brighter after what just happened. 
“Yeah, no. I’m fine,” he snaps, refusing to look at you. 
You wait for him to say something more, only he doesn’t. You can see he’s not feeling well and that he must be feeling worse after his metaphorical public stoning in the town square. He’s not sure what the hell it is you’re waiting for, and he just needs another fucking second to himself. 
“Why are you still here?” he grits through teeth, his eyes fixed to the floor. 
You open your mouth to say something, but you’re honestly not sure why you’re still in the walk-in with him either. 
Maybe because you know that the exec chef is a total monster.
That he shouldn’t have talked to Carmy like that. 
That you can understand why he’d be upset. 
“Chef!” he says, raising his voice a little louder and flinging his hands towards the door. “Will you just-?”
You nod, a feeling of embarrassment filling your chest, as you realize he wants you to leave. You hurry out of the walk-in, closing the door behind you as you escape, your heavy cream quart containers in hand. 
“You good?” Liz asks, as soon as she sees you come out of the walk-in. She’s passing by to bring a few deli containers over to the dish station. 
“What?” you ask back in surprise, unaware that you look visibly shaken up.
“You look… flustered is all,” she points out. 
“Oh. Yeah. I just uh-, Carmy’s in there. Throwing a fit. He just uh… snapped at me is all. But what’s new?” you reply, trying your best to shake it off. 
She rolls her eyes in response, “Yeah, he can be like that. Thank your lucky stars that you don’t have to work under him.”
You let out an annoyed exhale. It’s a funny feeling – one that leaves you a little confused: one minute he’s this chivalrous guy that’s handing you his jacket to wear home and the next he’s practically tearing your head off to get out of the walk-in. You can’t quite figure him out. He’s so hot and cold, you’re not sure what to expect from him anymore. 
As you and Liz are about to part ways, you remember that you have to give her back her borrowed shirt. 
“Oh!” you say, calling her attention before she returns to her station. 
“I have your shirt, by the way,” you say. “From the other night.”
“Oh,” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Okay weird timing considering he’s being such an asshole today but uh…. Yeah. The shirt’s... not mine. I forgot to tell you.”
You send her a puzzled look as she shrugs. 
“I didn’t think you’d take it if I told you but… it’s Carmy’s. He pulled it out of his bag when he spilled the drink on you,” she informs, waiting to gauge your reaction.
“What do you mean?” you ask. 
“You were so mad at him that I just figured-, it doesn't matter. He pulled it out of his bag to give to you. I think he felt really fucking bad, babe,” she interjects, revealing the truth. 
Well now you’re really fucking confused. 
And after your little interaction with him in the walk-in, there’s no way you’re going to bring it up to him today. 
“Oh. Yeah um, got it,” you reply, feeling even more confused than when you started the day. 
You show up to work the next day with the t-shirt and his jacket tucked into a canvas tote bag you plan on giving to Carmy. You’d decided to wait till you had them both, and you’re also hoping that he’s in a better mood today. 
Only, Carmy’s not here today. 
“Yeah, he’s out sick. Looks like those allergies turned out to be a nasty head cold,” your general manager had informed you when you’d asked about where Carmy was. “Looks like Tim’s filling in today for him.”
“Got it. Thanks, Kate” you’d replied. 
Later on your mid-shift break, you’d then mustered up all the courage possible to ask if anyone had checked in on Carmy. Kate, your GM, had answered no, and had been more than happy to give you his address so that you could do so. You’re not sure why you feel like it’s the right thing to do, but between his act of kindness at the bar, and his outburst in the walk-in yesterday, you figure it wouldn’t hurt to show him a little kindness. Not that you feel like you owe him or anything. 
Maybe you just want to give him his clothes back and be done with it. 
Maybe you’re also deeply confused about who the hell Carmen Berzatto really is. 
Maybe the mystery of it intrigues you a little more than you’d like to admit.
Dinner service flies by quickly – a string of non-stop orders helps the time go faster. Carmy’s apartment is on your way home, so it’s a no-brainer to make the trip. You stop on your way at a deli nearby, picking up a quart of matzo ball soup, before heading over to his apartment. 
When you get there, you knock on the door three times, anxiety beginning to flood you.
What if he thinks this is totally creepy – that you just got his address from the general manager? What if he thinks you’re stalking him? What if he hates the fact that you’re even there in the first place? 
You wonder if you should just leave the soup at the door and run as fast as you can so that, by the time he answers the door, you’re gone. 
Just as you’re bending down to place the quart container down by his door, the door swings open to reveal a very congested Carmy. His curls seem wilder than normal as he looks genuinely surprised to see you crouching in the hall of his apartment. 
“Hi!” you practically shout, taken off guard as you rise to your feet. 
“Yo,” he says, blinking a few times to make sure he’s not dreaming. “What’s uh-, what’s going on?”
It’s weird – seeing Carmy outside of the restaurant, outside of his chef whites. His usually slicked back, out-of-his-face hair falls in the messiest most unruly curls around his face in a way that's surprisingly unkempt. He’s… almost human-like. 
“This is for you,” is all you manage to say, handing him the quart container. 
“Uh… thanks,” he trails off, taking it and checking out the matzo ball soup. 
You’re not sure where to begin, how to explain why the hell you’re here, so you just start talking. 
“I uh… your place was on the way home,” you begin. “I hope it’s okay but I got your address from Kate. I actually used to go to this deli all the time when I was a kid with my parents and I forgot that it was in your neighborhood so I just figured that I should pick something up on the way over since I heard you were sick and uh-.”
Carmy shoots you a look and he almost looks amused. 
“... I’m rambling, aren’t I?” you ask, a light blush running across your cheeks. 
“Yeah,” he nods, a dry laugh following.
You wait a beat, collecting yourself. You’re not sure why this is so weird, but it’s so weird. 
“I came by because…” you start, digging through your canvas tote bag that’s draped across your right shoulder. “... I wanted to return these to you.” 
You hold out the jacket and t-shirt folded up together to Carmy, his eyes following them. 
“Liz told me that the shirt was yours too. I just-, I know we don’t always… that you don’t-, I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I know it’s kind of weird at work sometimes but… I guess  I just wanted to say thank you. For these. Hence the soup,” you finally explain.
“No problem,” Carmy nods, taking them in his empty hand, before disappearing momentarily to place them somewhere inside of his apartment.  
You’re only a little disappointed by his short response, yet you’re not sure you expected anything else. He returns only seconds later.
“It’s uh-, Cool jacket,” you say. You can’t tell whether you’re making small talk or just saying something out of discomfort, but it seems to pique Carmy’s interest. 
“It actually reminds me of the denim jacket that John Lennon used to wear ”
“You know denim?” he asks, and you could swear that you see his eyes light up for a moment. 
“No, but I know music,” you reply. 
“Uh I mean. Yeah. It is…” he says, with a nod, a hint of excitement in the words that follow. “Not the actual one he wore but… it’s a 1950s selvedge Wrangler. Just like Lennon.”
So he wasn’t just a fine-dining robot. 
“Wow I didn’t know you were into all that,” you say, feeling some of the tension between the two of you melt. “Denim, I mean.”
“Something I picked up from my brother, I guess,” he shrugs, shyly. 
“That’s funny,” you chuckle. 
“Hm?” he hums in response. 
“Just… the thought of you having a brother,” you clarify, jokingly. “Thought you were like… grown in a lab at noma or something.”
And Carmy almost smiles, you think.
“Nope. Just Chicago,” he replies, enjoying the act of sharing something with you. 
“Ahhh,” you sound, following it up with another small laugh. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest. Enjoy the soup.”
“Yeah, uh. Thanks for this,” he says, holding up the brown bag. 
“Of course,” you reply, turning to go. 
But you don’t go yet, not ready to let go of the momentary connection you’ve built with Carmy 
"You know it doesn’t have to be like this,” you say, turning back to him. He's staring at you, just like he does in the kitchen. It’s another long, languid look that makes you realize that maybe they haven’t been hate-glares after all.
“We don't have to do this... start over every time we see each other.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you agree with a nod. “I mean, I've already worn your clothes so… it’s a rather… intimate thing for us to just be strangers….”
He listens attentively. 
"We could… coworkers… friends, even,” you suggest, hesitantly.
“Me and you?” he asks, a puzzled look on his face. You’re not sure if he’s surprised by what you’ve said, or if he’s about to laugh in your face. 
“If you want,” you nod in response. 
He waits a beat, and you watch his facial expressions soften a little as he finally says, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
You smile at him, the man you thought hated you, wants to be friends with you. You get a wicked idea, letting out a chuckle before continuing. 
“Great. There’s just one thing,” you begin playfully.
You can’t help yourself.
“Hm?” he hums. 
“It’s just… I haven’t made my mind up about you. So you should consider this your trial period, buddy,” you tease. 
He lets out a dry laugh, “Like a stage?”
Of course it’s all kitchen-related for him.
You laugh in response, “Yeah, like a stage.”
“Heard, chef.”
“Goodnight, Carmy.”
Carmy’s never had someone joke with him so sweetly. Between his family and, well, Richie… it’s always been callous humor and insults thrown back and forth lovingly. This feels… different: lighter.
As he watches you walk away, he looks down at the deli quart container that he holds in his hand. He’s never had anyone take care of him before – not like this – someone who wasn’t Sugar or Mikey, and certainly not his Mom. Not like this. Not without asking for anything in return. He can’t seem to identify the warm feeling that rushes through him, and wonders, for a moment, if this is what it feels like to fall in love. 
Not that he’s ever experienced that either.
By Saturday, he’s back to work and feeling much better (the soup definitely helps, he decides) but it’s not for another week that he musters up the courage to ask you what you’re doing between lunch and dinner service. 
“Chef!” he calls out to you as you’re cleaning up your station.
“Yeah, what’s up?” you reply. 
It’s not like you’ve been all buddy-buddy and friendly over the last week, but you’ve at least stopped thinking that he hates you. Sure you’ve decided to be friends, but it’s not like you’d expected wildly different behavior. 
“You uh… wanna grab a cup of coffee? On the break, I mean,” he asks, his blue eyes seeming… more brilliant than you’ve ever noticed. 
“I owe you one. You know. For the soup.”
You smile, “Yeah. I’d uh-, I’d like that.”
“Yeah?” he asks. 
“Yeah.”
read: chapter two
taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos
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fadedin2u · 3 months
Note
hi rose toy, could you write about ellie comforting reader with body insecurities? love your writing and have a good day!!
here’s a little drabble!! this was super therapeutic to write, thank u for the lovely request anon!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“i just- i don’t like myself, ellie. i don’t like anything about how i look,” you finally admit, sick of your own thoughts plaguing your mind.
ellie’s eyes are full of heartache as she says, “but i do. i like everything about how you look.”
the response makes your heart bleed more, and your lip trembles.
“you have to say that. you’re my girlfriend.”
ellie shakes her head, “hey. that’s not true. i’m not gonna say anything to you that i don’t mean, you know that.”
you look down, not wanting her to see the tears building in your eyes. “i just… i can’t help but notice how many fucking things are wrong with my body. with my face. with me.”
ellie frowns, “what makes any of it wrong? where’s the guide book telling you how you’re supposed to look?”
you get irritated in spite of knowing ellie’s good intentions, “everything tells me i’m supposed to look different than how i do, ellie. you’re the fucking beauty standard, no offense, but you have no idea what it feels like to not be.”
ellie’s eyes flash with hurt from your words, but she covers it well.
you sigh, ashamed, wiping your face, “i’m sorry, els, really. i’m not trying to pick a fight with you or make you feel like shit too, i just hate living with how i look everyday.”
ellie smoothes her hands over your sides, “do you want to know what i think?”
you take a breath and slowly nod.
“not everything about you fits the beauty standard. that’s true. but the beauty standard was created by rich, white men who are trying to make a goddamn profit off of women fucking hating themselves. so women just perpetuate this bullshit standard, because they feel like it’s attached to their worth as a human being, and everyone feels like shit, except for the dudes who’s pockets are getting fuller each time someone goes in to get a fucking lypo treatment or a nose job.”
you stay quiet, listening, even though this isn’t necessarily new information to you.
ellie takes a breath, “so, maybe not all of you fits into that stupid model of a fake woman, but how the fuck does that make you less beautiful? i love how you look naturally, because you’re fucking real, gorgeous, and human. i don’t want a fantasy girl that fits perfectly into a porn-brain infected, white, straight, limp-dick’s wet dream. i want you. i want how you look naturally, when you’re healthy and happy. because that’s when you look the most beautiful to me, no matter what.”
you take a breath. “so you’re honestly saying you wouldn’t prefer if i was more stereotypically attractive?”
ellie rolls her eyes, “that doesn’t fucking mean anything to me. i’m very fucking attracted to you, and that’s all that matters. i wouldn’t change a thing about how you look, ever.”
you nod slowly, and she pulls you into a tight hug.
“it makes me sick that you feel like you’re innately wrong in some way, because that couldn’t be further from the truth. if you’re giving yourself enough food, taking care of your body, and you’re happy, that’s exactly how you should be looking. okay?”
you know that ellie’s words don’t take away your feelings of insecurity, but it helps soothe some of the sting, the hurt.
“i’m sorry for making you preach self-love to me,” you say, smiling a little, trying to lighten the mood.
ellie looks serious as she says, “i will again. anytime you need it. i cant stand the thought of the most perfect thing in my life hating how they naturally look. i’ll say it a billion times if you need it, i promise.”
she kisses your forehead.
“do you think take-out would help you feel better? because i think it would.”
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shu-porang-porang · 1 month
Text
Home at last
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Pure fluff, coz my boy's so fluffy! (plus, I needed to wash away my previous fic!! 🥵)
Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / reader (gender not specified)
Theme: fluff, a little angst if you squint
Warnings: not proofread
Word count: 0.8 k
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It’s just another one of those days, when the world seems to crumble down around you and your tongue feels too heavy you don’t wanna speak a word. As much as you need to hear his voice, you don’t wanna trouble him with your blues, he’s busy enough as is, why bother him with your mood swings? You’re watching a random episode of your comfort sitcom to try and distract yourself when his name appears on your phone screen, as if he sensed you need him.
“Hey gorgeous! How are you?” his sweet voice brings a smile to your lips.
“Hi, I’m good, thanks.”
“..hmm… are you sure? That’s not how your voice sounds like.”
“Yea… I’m fine.”
“I’m coming over.”
“No, you don’t need to, I know you had a busy day.”
“Nonsense. I’ll be there soon.”
He hangs up so you don’t get a chance to argue. Despite having been dating for only a few months, he knows you like the back of his hand. He knows you tend to keep everything to yourself, so if he doesn’t try to help, you’d never reach out.
Finally, he’s here, with bags of takeouts in his hands. As soon as you see his warm smile and glittering eyes, your heart skips a beat. He puts the bags down and opens his arms to you. You hug him impossibly tight, pressing your cheek to his chest.
“Thanks for coming.” You mumble to his chest.
“Anything for you, babe.”
He breaks the hug and cups your cheeks in his hands.
“I really missed you.” he says while leaning in to capture your lips. A few gentle kisses later and you already feel much better.
He points to the bags “shall we eat?”.
“I’m not really hungry…”
“Were you gonna skip dinner again?”
You don’t answer, just stare at the floor.
“Come on, let’s eat together.”
You follow him like a puppy. He sets the table and feeds you. No one ever treated you like this before, no one ever cared if you ate well or got enough rest. No one ever asked if you needed to talk. No one was ever there for you. Sure, you had friends and a seemingly loving family, but whenever you weren’t feeling well, they just kept away and let you be until you came around again on your own.
After dinner, you cuddle up in front of the TV, your back resting on his chest, his arms around your waist, a fluffy blanket covering you both.
“Are you comfortable jagya?”
You nod, looking up at him, he kisses your forehead. You turn your head back towards the TV and he rests his cheek on top of your head.
“You know you can talk to me, right?”
“There’s really nothing to say… you’re here and I feel much better.” you bring his hand up to your lips and kiss along a vein. He tightens his grip around you. The warmth radiating from his body melts your heart. You sink deeper in his embrace.
He kisses your temple. “Whenever you need me, I’ll be here, all you gotta do is say the word.” He whispers in your ear. You smile and nod at him. Oh you got words you wanna tell him so bad, but you’re afraid it’s too soon and would scare him off. You rest your head back on the juncture of his shoulder and neck. His cologne on his pulse point mixed with his scent engulf your senses. You can’t help but give a lingering peck to his neck. He nuzzles his cheek against your hair in response.  
You feel like your heart is so full it could burst. How he turned your whole mood around. Right here, in his arms, it’s where you belong. You think no matter how shitty life gets, if you have him by your side, nothing can bother you or make you wanna give up. With him in your life, you could live forever or die happily any moment. You hate to admit a boy has such an impact on you, but he’s no ordinary boy, you’ve never come across someone like him, or maybe you think this way because… you’re in love.
You make up your mind, if it’s gonna scare him off, it better happen sooner than later, before the possible damage gets irreparable.
“Min?” you call out.
“Yes babe?”
“I think… I think I’m in love with you…”
“Well, that works out perfectly! Coz I’m in love with you too.” He says with a big bright smile on his face. Then he leans in to seal his words. He removes an arm from around your waist to cup your cheek. His lips move gently on yours, each kiss drenched in love, telling you things words never could. He feels like home, like the soothing breeze of a spring night, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms. A single tear rolls down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb.
He breaks the kiss: “Are you alright love?”
“I am, I really am, haven’t been this well for a long time.”
He keeps caressing your cheek as he adoringly gazes into your eyes, melting you into a puddle.
“My sweet sweet baby.” he says as he takes you back into his arms.
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formulafics · 1 month
Note
For the blurb reader dealing with the hate of dating a driver and them comforting her.
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MRS. ALL AMERICAN, but make it a blurb
well, it may be a few months later, but here it is!! i so hope you love it rena 😔🙏🏻 also im living up to that conversation we had about me dropping things without warning 😼 this also lowkey made me wanna start writing again so 👀
MRS. ALL AMERICAN | SMAU (i’d suggest reading this before you read the blurb!)
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Initially, the comments didn’t bother you. In fact, you found yourself amused at many of them, being so unbelievably absurd and far from the truth. A part of you also know it was inevitable. The internet is cruel, and along with that, your relationship moved much faster than most in this day and age. So, for the time being, it wasn’t hard to just ignore them, especially since you were so certain that Alex would be your endgame. To which, he is.
Now, months later, with rings on your fingers, there’s not a shred of doubt in your mind, regarding your relationship with Alex. It’s only getting better by the day, and you couldn’t ask for a better partner. That being said, the comments didn’t stop. Frankly, you’ve started to think they’re getting worse, and unfortunately, it’s becoming harder for you to ignore them.
Alex is not oblivious to your shift in mood. He can see it clearly, especially now as he gazes at you from across the table. His eyes glance down to your hands, watching you pick apart the food on your plate, food that you usually would be ‘going to town on’ (as logan says). His brows furrow as he looks at your face, his heart sinking at the strange sadness that lingers within your expression.
“Are you okay?” He asks softly, eyes meeting yours when you look at him. You swallow a lump in your throat, one you didn’t even realize was there, before answering him. “Yeah,” you respond flatly, huffing briefly. Your chest is tight, leaving you to feel like you can’t suck in enough air. Your response isn’t exactly what Alex hoped to hear, the man being slightly stumped on what to do or say.
He waits a few moments, but the longer you both sit in silence, the more the whole situation weighs on the both of you. “You can talk to me,” Alex assures you, eyes hopeful that you’ll open up to him. You sigh, setting your fork down. You lean forward, resting your arms on the table to close the distance between you and him, and he mirrors your movements, making it feel as if you both are in a more private setting.
“It’s just,” you pause, trying to think of how to word things. “The comments — they’re getting worse, I think,” you say it quietly, the aforementioned lump returning to your throat. Alex’s expression softens, and he simply nods. “Yeah,” he responds. Before anything else can be said, the waitress is at your table, and after confirming that you’re done eating, Alex asks for the bill.
By the time you’re walking out of the restaurant and headed to the car, you’re almost in tears. You squeeze Alex’s hand in yours, unintentionally bumping into his side as you walk to the car. When you do finally reach it, he guides you to the passenger side, but rather than opening the door, he engulfs you in a hug. Just like that, the tears begin to fall from your eyes, and you hug him back, nuzzling your face into his jacket. He doesn’t say anything yet, and just rests his head on yours, his hand soothingly rubbing your back.
He waits until your crying slows, then kisses your head. “I’m sorry about the comments - I know it’s hard,” he says against your hair, and you just nod in response, hugging him impossibly tighter. “You smell good,” you say quietly, lifting the mood slightly. He chuckles, making the corners of your lips pull upwards. “Thank you,” he hums. You look up at him, a small smile on your lips. Even though there’s still weight on your shoulders, you can’t help the smile, or the way your heart speeds up when you look at him.
He tilts his head down and presses a kiss against your lips - a soft, short one. “I wish I could do more,” he says earnestly, resting his forehead on yours. “I know,” you respond, knowing that he probably needs some reassurance too.
A few moments pass, the both of you stood there in comfortable silence with your eyes closed, soft gusts of wind breezing past you. Alex inhales, then pulls away, but doesn’t go too far just yet. “I just hope you know that everything they say is complete bullshit, and that i’m genuinely so happy with you,” He says, his eyes glimmering with honesty in a way that makes your heart squeeze in your chest. “Me too,” you respond, pressing another kiss to his lips. Slowly, the lingering weight on your shoulders finally dissipates as Alex opens the passenger door, holding your hand until you’re in the seat. He bends down, a silly grin on his face. “I love you so much,” he says, making you smile. “I love you.” you respond, watching as he closes the door, then walks around the car, taking his place in the drivers seat.
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taglist: @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @leclercvsx @motorsp0rt @fastcarsandshit @vellicora @spidersophie @arkhammaid @kortneej81 @lokietro @piasstrisblog @elliegrey2803 @i-love-ptv @marshmummy @sadieurlady
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wuts-stuff · 1 year
Note
Hiii love! Can i get a hc where the tmnt boys (preferably bayverse) has a SO that will curse people out in their native lanuage? Like they’ll give whoever the person theyre angry at time to redeem themselves but once that person crosses the line the SO. Goes. OFF. If not thats 100% okay have a good day!!!🙃🙃
Hi!! Thank you for requesting, I’m sorry if this took a while to get answered I’m currently sick as I type this <3 some of it will be in Greek since I’m Greek I hope that’s okay!!
Turtles with an s/o who curses in their native tongue
Pairing: bayverse!turtles x reader
Warnings:
Pronouns: none
Leonardo
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A little scared when you start scolding in your native tongue
Especially if it’s at him
He may catch a few words here and there that he learned from watching you use them in regular conversations and deduced by your actions what they meant
But mostly he doesn’t know what’s happening and that scares him sometimes
He’ll feel very badly for whatever he did if you’re scolding him
He’ll let you get it out but he’ll stare at you like a sad puppy the whole time
Once the puppy eyes break you and you give him a reluctant sigh he gently snakes his arms around you
“Did you know you’re very beautiful when you speak in your native tongue?”
Que the eye rolls because this man is going to flatter the perittómata ageládas out of you
Raphael
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He thinks it’s pretty hot when you get all fired up and start cursing people in a different language
But when it’s directed at him?
Oh boy
This guy is so confused and being confused makes him feel stupid and feeling stupid makes him mad
So he’ll end up stuttering out responses trying to pretend he knows what you’re saying
When it’s not at him he laughs his butt off at it and wants to have his hands all over you when you’re done
“You’re so hot when you get fired up like that doll face”
So many kisses
From your cheeks to your neck
May or may not trick people into making you mad so he can see you do this more often
Donatello
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Gets rather nervous when you’re angry
When you start cursing in your native tongue?
He’s doing his best to calm you down without getting in your way
If your upset with him he’s crushed, it’ll probably be because he ignored you for days on accident or he was rude to you due to being tired
Hell know everything you’re saying because he started learning your native language the moment he realized he liked you
He’ll respond to you in the same language you’re speaking so the conversation doesn’t feel awkward or one sided
He loves you very much and hates it when you’re upset, not in a way as he finds it annoying but as in it hurts his heart seeing his beautiful human in turmoil
So he’ll do whatever to help you feel better and resolve the conflict
“I love you dove, I’m sorry I ignored you.”
“.. and I’m very impressed you can translate your words in your head so quickly”
Michelangelo
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This man? Number one hype dude right here.
Always by your side helping you scold whoever made you mad
Even if he has no idea what you’re saying
“eísai tóso exorgistikós! Den katalavaíno pós se anéchetai kaneís káthe méra!”
“Yeah! And you better remember it!”
He’ll make sure to do his best to cheer you up and defuse the situation if it gets too heated
People think he can’t be serious and is too child like but he’s just trying to keep everyone’s moods up, he just wants to be a source of happiness for everyone especially with how stressful their lives are
But sometimes he forgets not all situations need to be cheered up.
That’s what made you get upset with him once
He felt really bad once you calmed down and spoke in English again and explained you just wanted him to listen not give you advice or cheer you up
Absolutely remembers that never lets it leave his brain
Mainly because being scolded in a different language is terrifying
“I got you angel cakes, always”
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!! I feel like this wasn’t very good to the request I had trouble thinking up what to write I’m sorry <:) thank you for your request okay byyyye I love you all!! <333333 (also the non English is Greek written with English letters since my device is American and can’t write Greek letters for anyone confused)
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sweethoneycn · 9 months
Text
Butterflies
Lo’ak & female Na’vi reader
Word count: 7.6k
Plot: Lo’ak had a crush, and for once she wasn’t one of the girls that climbed all over him daily. He was growing sick of that life but was too comfortable where he was. Until one night, during a private moment in his hut, he ran into the one person he didn’t expect and he just couldn’t help himself when all he wanted was a taste.
⛔️minors DNI⛔️
Warnings: Female receiving, male masterbation, very vulgar language, first person POV and narration smut, smut, smut
Hi guys… I’ve missed you. I’ve been writing this comeback series for about 5 days now. And I didn’t want to give any deadlines since I wanted it to be a surprise. I also wanted to try something new by using a ‘first person’ narration. I definitely think it suits my style of writing a lot better. Anyways, I hope y’all aren’t upset with me for my lil hiatus.. ya girl had to take a break. But I’m back, I have a pulse. And I’m ready to deliver the nastiest, toe curling smuts I’ve ever written.
Enjoy 🤍
˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄ ҉  
Lo’ak
I swear this shit never gets old. The warm fire dancing on my face was the perfect indicator that I might not be so fucked up afterall. My mind for the first time in weeks, was free of those intrusive thoughts that I get sometimes when I'm feeling sorry for myself. I smile to myself, I had no idea that I was capable of being so calm. This life was difficult in more ways than one, so it really shouldn't be a surprise that this ecstasy is completely foreign to me. For a moment I was content, that was until I realized that I’m just high as fuck and the weed was just doing its job. Because there was no way in hell that such an elementary feeling had me feeling fruity for a moment. A laugh squeaks past my lips at the realization, my cheeks puffing out as I try to hold those giggles back. I would hate to look like an idiot right now. As I sit with my knees to my.chest I collect myself, breathing deeply with a sweet honey on my side. Literally.
My eyes close softly as a young broad pepper's small kisses on my neck, cooing in my ear as if I were the tastiest thing she's had on her lips in months. I would allow myself to bask in the feeling, if only I could remember her fucking name. I mean, to my defense, she kind of just showed up. And I'm just used to this. An occasional fuck was my thing. No feelings attached. It may sound heartless but there's nothing on this planet that will convince me that these girls don’t think the same way. That's all this has ever been. Hunt, sleep, and get my dick sucked from any piece of ass willing to throw herself at me. I was living the dream, well, that's what I think at least. Truth is I don't care enough to pull out of this lifestyle. It's not like much was expected of me anyways. My family had my brother for that shit. So I thought “might as well make the most of it”.
I didn't realize I was zoned out, feeling good and soaking in the warm breeze of the night until someone tugged on my arm.
“Come on, let's get out of here”. The girl with no name says to me. Interlocking her fingers with mine as she attempts to pull me to my feet. But I fight against her. I don't want to leave.
“Cmon baby, we could use some privacy” she says softly. Using the entirety of her body weight to pull me up. I can't lie, the act was cute. Her brows pinched together, fighting against a stone wall with my feet planted in the soft dirt under me. I would have budged if I was in the mood to get my dick wet, but this fire just feels too good. Too real.
So I stayed.
“Lo’ak.. Come onnn”. She nags. Like an annoying fly in my ear. She's blowing my high and it's taking everything in me not to be a dick. Despite my lack of deference for the women that threw themselves at me daily, my mother always taught me to respect a lady. So reluctantly I stand with a huff, my left arm heavy and at my side while she tugs on my right.
She pulls me further from the fire and my happiness is now gone. Fuck me.
“Where are we going?”. I ask. Obvious annoyance laced in my words but she's too drunk off the thought of my dick in her mouth to notice. She turns to me, giggling as she pulls me behind a tree. Throwing herself into me the second our bodies disappear behind it. Taking not another second, she crashes her lips into mine and I wince. She tastes salty as hell and I bite back the urge to vomit when her hand finds my dick. Flaccid and unwilling just from the taste of her. I pull my lips away, resting my hand lazily on her hip and then I look down at her.
“Turn around”. I demand. At this point I’m really trying my hardest not to put her in a head lock, knock her horny ass out and sneak the fuck out of here. But I stay frozen where I am as she does what she's told and turns around. Cupping the back of her head I push her torso down until her ass is propped in the air. And I can only pray to Eywa that her pussy hygiene is better than her breath because I don't want to soak my body in acid.
“Why can't I just say no?” I think to myself. Pulling at her loincloth as I slide it past her ass. She was at least pretty so it made this whole thing a little bearable. I really didn't want to do this, but I have a reputation and I'll be damned if a little stinky breath kills that for me. My face is now level with her sex and I almost want to do a little victory dance when she actually smells devine. She wiggles her hips, her hands gripping the soft dirt under them as I slide a digit into her. She isn't wet but I didn't expect her to be, they never are until I get my hands on them. I shove my middle finger inside her past my knuckle. She moans louder than necessary and I roll my eyes, picking up the speed. Her head flys back, her long hair falling down the sides of her waist and I take the opportunity to grab a fist full of it, yanking her up and into my chest my fingers still buried deep inside her pussy.
A choked whine escapes past her lips when I tug, forcing her head down to level my mouth with her ear.
“You just couldn't wait could you?”. I groan, twisting my wrist to fuck her deeper with my fingers, which caused her to moan louder. A get a strong whiff of her breath and coil into myself again. Pulling my face away.
“Fuckk”. I groan, unable to stop myself. I seriously wish I had something for the putrid smell emanating from her mouth but the most I could do was hold my breath. For a moment I freeze, mortified that she possibly heard. She indeed did but it was interpreted as a moment of pleasure. Her back arches, pressing her ass into my cock that has yet to get hard. I had to do something fast, closing my eyes I think of something - or someone that could change things. My mind immediately goes to the prettiest girl in the clan. The one that I have yet to get my filthy hands on. The one that is close and far away at the same time. I closed my eyes, shifting to a place that could get me there. To the place where this girl wants.. No, needs me to be.
I dip my head back thinking and imagining her face.
The way her plump lips fold in between her teeth when she's concentrated. Her sweet laugh when my sister says something that's literally not funny. But it's only funny when the laugh spills from her mouth. My breaths start to pick up, my mind races with the thought of her under me. Sweating and calling my name as I fuck her slowly. My mind is in the clouds as my body moves robotically. Gripping this girl's hips, I push her up against the tree, kicking both of her legs apart to accommodate my body. Instinctively she rubs against me, moaning into her hand trying to bite back her sounds considering we're still within earshot of people near the fire. I reach into my loincloth, the thought of another woman finally turning me into a brick. So hard that it was almost painful. I go to pull my cock out when someone comes around the tree and I almost jump out of my skin.
“Dads looking for you”. Neteyam says. Paying no mind to the girl I was about to shove my cock into. He says nothing else, turning on his heels as his hand slides down the bark of the tree. Gone and out of sight before I could respond. I never loved my brother so much in my life. I really got a ticket out of this. My hands drop from her body, fixing my loincloth to reposition my now hard dick. She groans as I step away.
“Do you have to go?”. She cries. Throwing her arms around my neck. My breath stalls in my chest, holding it in as if my life depended on it. Because it sure as fuck felt like if I smelled this girls breath one more time… I’ll hurl for real. I smile down at her, grabbing her arms from around me and pinning them to her sides.
“Sorry baby, maybe next time”. And that was a hard maybe. Before she could get the chance to beg me to stay, I turned sharply. Running after my brother. I didn't say a word until I was out of her view, catching up with Neteyam and tapping him on the shoulder.
“What does dad need?”. I ask, walking beside him. Neteyam snorts. And it left me confused.
“What?”. A giggle follows behind my words. Unsure why he's laughing but wanting to join in on what's going through his head. He turns to me.
“Nothing, I saw you with Ikeyni and thought I'd help you get out of there.'' I stopped walking.
“So that's her name”. I thought to myself.
my lip pouting as a joke. I hold my hand to my chest as if I were in a deep state of emotion.
“Bro, I could kiss you right now”. I say, letting out a long breath I had no clue I was holding in until he pulled me out of the nightmare that wouldn't go away. Neteyam chuckles, throwing his hair over his shoulder before leaning into me.
“Did you kiss her?”. He asks. My fake pout washes from my face. I did not need a reminder. I stood motionless with my face screwed up. And my lack of response answered his question without me having to say a word. Fuck me.. It was so bad. I'd rather have my lungs ripped out of my chest and be teased with the thought of taking a deep breath but can't, then remember that rancid kiss. I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of the thought, the smell that would take my breath away every time I thought about it. I mean, sure. We all get morning breath but that shit was straight up neglect, that was a smell from someone sucking dick and sleeping with remnants of someone else's nut down her throat. I just couldn't wrap my head around the thought any longer. Deciding to change the subject.
“Thanks though, I honestly thought that was the end for me”. I walk next to him, punching him on the shoulder lightly, flashing a wide gummy grin at him.
“Eh, it's all good. Everyone knows she's kind of..” he trails off. “Lacking moral sense of hygiene” he glances over at me and I catch his gaze. My cheeks puff out as we both fall into a laughing fit. We walked together back to the village, the low glow of the lanterns lighting the night sky. In the distance I could hear my sister arguing with her boyfriend. And no… it's not Kiri. Neteyam looks at me and I raise my eyebrows shaking my head, already in a protest.
“That's all you bro..”. I say. Turning in the direction of my hut, wanting nothing to do with my teenage sister's antics. Neteyam rolls his eyes as he watches me scurry away.
“Wow! Can't you help me after I help you? Next time I'll let her slip her tongue down your throat” he yells after me. But I kept walking, lifting my hand behind me with my back to him as I flipped him the bird. There's no way in hell. I'll let him deal with that for now. I pull myself around the corner, out of sight, out of mind as I dip inside my personal hut. The room was dimly lit and comfortable. To be honest it was just a vibe. Things have changed here on Pandora since I've been a kid. The clan was hell bent on keeping traditions but since the human influence here. We've learned to adapt to a more modern world. We still walk around half naked though.
I make my way over to my computer and swing my chair around. This was my all time favorite place, where I could be myself without anyone having an opinion about it. Logging into my desktop I pull up my playlist, the first and most streamed song being, Into It by Chase Atlantic. If there's one thing humans did right, it was music. This band was gold and it always put me in the mood. I press play and lean back, closing my eyes as images of her flash behind my eyelids. I could hear her and smell her. If only I could taste her. As the beginning of the song starts to play, I could feel the heat form in my lower belly. The thought of fucking her to this song turning me on the more it played. Unbeknownst to me I start to touch my body. My hands gliding down my chest and my abs. My cock slowly grew in my loincloth, to the point where the fabric began to pinch me. Untying the strings, I set my cock loose. It springs free, slapping my belly. Hard and flushed pink from how horny I am. Had I encountered a different girl tonight, this probably wouldn't have been an issue. But here I am, overheating and horny as fuck with no one to help. The song continues to play the hook starting as a low breath falls from my mouth and my head falls back on the headrest. Spitting in my hand I lather my hard length just allowing the song to captivate me.
🎶“But I’m into it, I’m into it, said she wanna fuck me later girl I’m into it. I’m into it, ya I’m into it. This mental pressure got me poppin pills and shit.”🎶
The song plays and I'm lost, fisting my dick painfully slow. Mimicking the beat of the song. Hot and short pants escape from my chest, my belly clenching as I begin to feel the heat rise further into my chest. My hips meeting the thrusts of my hand.
🎶“These girls, they come and go between my bed sheets. And i've been doing blue and causing big scenes yeah”🎶
My speed picks up, my cheeks flushed as my mouth falls open and my chin pressed firmly to my chest, gathering more spit in my mouth for lubrication I lean forward and I allow slack in my jaw, watching as my spit falls to the head of my dick when I stick my tongue out. If only this was her pussy, I swear she'd fall in love and never want anyone else but me to suck her. My thrusts turn aggressive as the song continues on. I'm so turned on that I don't even care if I'm being loud. Fuck I want someone to hear me, so they can rush in here to help me. But I knew that wasn't going to happen so I continued on. Letting the song drown out my thoughts.
🎶“Pull up and I'm higher than the big trees, yeah. She don't really like it but she needs me yeah. She saying she don't really miss me. But fuck it, now I’m faded off the wrong things yeah”🎶
“Oh fuck..” I moan, my legs spread in front of me, my thighs shake as I push father off that edge. I work my hand in slow firm strokes. Twisting my wrist in circles as I tease the head of my cock. The sound of my spit on my skin, almost lost behind the music. Images of her curvy body flash behind my eyes.
“O-oh my god” her round ass, like nothing i've ever seen before bouncing on my cock, the recoil immaculate as I meet my hips with hers. My mouth falls open and I have no shame as I become a whimpering mess to the thought of her.
“F-fuck baby.. Gonna make daddy come "I moan. Sweat beading on my forehead and falling down my chest and neck.
🎶“I’m getting way too deep I’m fuckin into it!”🎶
“Mmm”
🎶“I’m into it, yeah I’m into it. I wouldn't change it for the world I’m fuckin into it”.🎶
The muscles in her back tense, her hands rest on my knees as she looks back at me. Her expression was laced with nothing but arousal. she bites her lip, bouncing on my dick nice and slow like its her fuckin job. I grip her hips, guiding her thrusts.
“That's it baby” she whispers in my head. “Come for me”. Her voice was so sweet, so hypnotizing. If this is what it sounds like in my head, then I can't even imagine what it sounds like when I really get a taste of her.
Oh god, I must be going crazy. The mind is a powerful thing because even though I've never felt what she feels like before, the thought of it alone was enough for me to explode all over my stomach.
“Ohh fuck yeah, f-fuck im coming!”
˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄ ҉  
“y/n wait!” Someone shouts behind me, I didn't even have to turn around to know who it was. And from the way he slurred those two simple words, was enough for me to know that he was completely inebriated. I stop walking, rolling my eyes before I pull off the fakest smile I could muster. I turn to him, clasping my hands behind my back.
“Hi.. Ruk’e” No matter how hard I tried, there was no enthusiasm in my voice. I was drunk, tired and I wanted to go home. Not to mention Lo’ak snuck off with another girl that wasn’t me so I was already annoyed and ready for this night to end. So that I can go home, flick my bean to the thought of him and forget that I'll never be an option for him. But no, I'm here entertaining the last person I want to see. He lazily jogs towards me, his steps are heavy and ungraceful. That was pretty much his whole personality. Brawny and unflattering. One of the major reasons why he wasn't my type. I didn't like the big burly men who worked out entirely too much and lacked necessary brain cells to function.
He stops in front of me, reeking of alcohol. But I stopped my thoughts considering everyone at the fire, including me, had too much to drink. He's panting, and sweating as he places his hands on his hips. That wide and gummy smile stretching his cheeks. I just look at him.
“Come back with me,” He says. Stepping closer to me. To which I respond by taking that step back.
“No.” I say, not needing a lot of thought to deny him. After all, this was a common occurrence with him and he still has yet to get it through his thick skull that I'm not interested. His smile fades and it's soon replaced with a scowl.
Here it comes.
“Fuck you.. You stuck up bitch.” He stumbled, pointing his thick finger at me. “You think your pussy is all I can get? I have bitches begging for it” he declares. But he knew as much as I did that that was the biggest fucking lie that’s come out of his mouth thus far. Nobody wants him. I roll my eyes, folding my arms over my chest as he goes on and on about how he's desirable, the perfect mate for any woman in the clan. And how no other man compares to him. I disregard him, fanning my hand over my mouth as I fabricate a yawn. Because if he didn’t get away from me in the next second, I was going to get really disrespectful. And that wasn't like me, but I couldn't hold back because this alcohol was giving me bigger balls than I could ever have.
“Look” I interrupted him. “No offense or anything, but I feel like we keep going in circles here” I pause once more, growing too tired of this conversation to continue but I carry on despite that fact.
“I don't like you.. at all. To be quite frank, I'd rather jump off an ikran than be mated with you” he opens his mouth to speak but I hold up my finger to stop him.
“I know it sounds harsh but.. Your tongue isn't so modest either. So if you'll excuse me”.
I say nothing else as I turn on my heels, leaving him speechless and looking dumb. I could tell I've upset him when all I hear is a scream that he created deep within his lower belly. Screaming at the top of his lungs in the middle of the community field. I quickened my pace, wanting nothing more than to get the fuck out of here. The last thing I needed is people looking at me like I was the one in the wrong. Look at how he just acted from being rejected for the millionth time. I can't even imagine what his reaction would be if I told him about the one I'm really interested in. Lo’ak was the exact opposite of him and I'm content with that. Because for one, he didn't act like that, and two, he was just gorgeous. Maturing means that you don't need any more reasons than that to be sexually attracted to someone.
I clear out of the view of the rest of the drunk adults partying in front of the fire. The silent boom of the music died down as I climbed up the hill to my private hut. The worst part about being an adult in this clan, is that they put all of us together, just outside the main village. In one group as if we were livestock. They tell us it's just for convenience since we all basically work together. But everyone knows it's because we're all too horny for the elders to want to be around. Just in the distance I can hear a woman getting her back blown out. And I have no shame wishing it was me, and Lo’ak was the one to deliver.
My steps slow, the pandoran moon lights the night sky and the ground around me. I felt the warmth of the alcohol course through my veins. The sweet smell of the warbonnet ferns (bioluminescent flora) filled my nose, making me smile as it reminded me of my childhood running through these woods with my siblings. I run my fingers along the outside of peoples huts not paying attention to my surroundings. I was lost in my own drunkenness and thoughts before I was quickly brought out of them from the faint sound of a man who sounded like he was experiencing pleasure. Beyond that I could also hear music in the background but I couldn't make out the band. My brows pinch as I concentrate further, careful to slow my pace to hear better and to not draw any attention to myself.
As I got closer, the sounds grew louder and the moans became more frequent. I clasped my hand over my mouth, hiding my giggles from whoever it was. Whatever they were doing, or who they were doing, was making them feel great and that made me a little jealous. I couldn't wait to get home to do the same thing to myself. I didn't know who it was but his low groans sounded so sweet and familiar at the same time. But I was too drunk to figure out who it was. I came up to the hut slowly, the dim lights from inside lighting the path before me. I round the front entrance, placing my ear against the door. It was silent for a moment until it wasn't.
“Ohh fuck yeah, f-fuck im coming!” he moans. I try to hide my giggle again, moving my ear closer to the door.
“Fuck y/n… fuck..”
My eyes practically pop out of my head when he calls my name. I thought maybe I was just drunk and hearing things, and my brain was feeding me the things that I wanted to hear. Instead of running away like I should have, I still breath and listen further. The song came to an end almost like he planned his climax down to that exact second. Either way it was hot and I just couldn't pull myself away from the door.
“Who are you?” I whisper to myself. Shuffling to the small crack that was in his door frame. It was impossible to see anything as it wasn’t wide enough to peer through. I squint my eyes, placing my hands palm up on the door and push my nose against the wood. I guess you could say I was desperate to know who it was. Partly because they came to the thought of me and also because they did it loud enough for someone to hear. As if that's what they wanted.
I grew impatient from shoving my face into the door. I knew I wasn't going to be able to see anything but it was worth the try. At least I know that I have a secret admirer. Standing up straight I stand on the other side of his door, contemplating for a moment if I should just go in, I mean they were moaning my name anyways so what's the harm. But that was just the alcohol talking and I realized that, turning slowly with my head hanging low, I took that step in the direction of my own hut.
Too caught up in what I just heard, I didn't notice the tree root sticking out from the bottom of the wooden platform and ended up tripping over it. A loud yelp leaves my mouth as I tumble over and off the raised path right in front of this guy's hut. I knew there was no way he, or someone else didn't hear. I roll in pain, now tangled and probably cut up from the bushes and tree branches on the ground. I attempt to stand on my feet, trying not to make any more noise than I already have. My back was turned to the door while I brushed the soil and remnants of a broken branch off my legs. For a moment I was distracted. I'm never drinking again. Fuck that.
“Jesus…” I mutter, wiping the last bit of tree and dirt off my body. The moment of silence I had, soon ripped from me when I heard the door behind me swing open. I freeze, still facing away.
“Shit! Are you good?” the man says. Stepping past the threshold of his home to quickly walk to me. I instantly panic, scurrying to pull my feet free from the vines that held me firm to the ground. My mind raced with a million thoughts at once.
“Fuck im caught”
“Just say you fell.. It's true.. Well, not entirely”
“Oh god im screwed”
I couldn't believe this was happening, I just wanted to go home. How did I end up here? Dirty and possibly caught red handed after I was eavesdropping on a guy jerking off, someone who may or may not have a secret crush on me. Whatever, I had to get out of here. Without saying anything, I turned my body away from him, placed my hands on the wooden walkway and pulled myself up. I tried to make a run for it, but I didn't make it far before his hand grabbed my delicate wrist and spun me around to face him. My eyelids blink rapidly at the sudden invasion, he was so strong, hardly had to use any strength to man handle me. I had to ignore the roaring heat that began to form between my thighs considering the situation was too inappropriate to have a female boner. I focused my eyes, blinking one final time before they focused on who I was actually looking at. And I was mortified at the realization. My breaths began to pick as I met his gaze. I couldn't make out the expression on his face but it didn't look like he cared about anything else except if I was okay or not. I pull my hand away, dropping my gaze from his to hide my painfully blushing cheeks.
“Lo’ak.. I-”
“Are you okay?” he pushed again, more stern this time. He reaches back down to grab my hand, holding it up to his face. “Oh my god” I thought. He's touching me! Again!. A lump formed in my throat as he held my hand close to his face, it was then that I realized that it was bleeding.
“You're bleeding, girl.. What are you doing out here in the dark?” he says, looking at me this time. I tried to swallow the lump that formed in my throat as well as ignore the butterflies that beat violently against my belly. His brows pulled down in the center of his forehead, twirling my hand around to access the damage. I was left speechless at the sight of him, unable to answer his previous question, although to me, it was a bit rhetorical. I remember making eye contact with him once or twice at the fire tonight, it would only make sense that I was on my way home. Right? Anyway I stuttered trying to make out an explanation, I didn't want to give myself away.
“I-I was just h-heading home.. From the..” I gulp. “Fire”
He studies me, before nodding his head. Gently he tugs me toward his hut, giving me no choice to leave now and never look back. I don't know what it was but I allowed it. My stupid brain was unable to protest as he pulled me through his door. Immediately I'm met with the soft scent of fresh linen, a small candle lit in the corner of his room on his desk, a soft glow coming from his desktop that he was obviously using. The room was dark other than the flickering flame and bright neon lights that hung around the borders of his ceiling. His bed sat off in the corner, made perfectly with several pillows fluffed and untouched. In front of his bed on the floor was a beautifully crafted na’vi rug. With exquisite patterns and colors. It added a pop to his otherwise pristine room. My jaw hung as I took it all in, I knew he was sort of a control freak, but I didn't expect his living quarters to be so… clean. Young men like him don't usually give a fuck about how they lived. I knew there was something I liked about him.
“Here, sit” he says, gently guiding me to his desk chair. All back with a white headrest that had a hole in the middle. I do as I'm told as he puts his back to me, walking over to his bed to pull out a white box with a hospital logo on the front. I scrunch my brows.
“You have a human first aid kit?” I ask finally. Finding my voice after what felt like forever. He chuckles, walking over to me before kneeling on the ground in front of me. He gently grabs my hand once more, placing it on his thigh for support while he digs in the box for supplies.
“Yeah.. I know. It's frowned upon but, sometimes you just need a bandaid ya know?” He smiles up at me. His shiny white teeth set a trap in my heart. “Plus, I've never been one to follow the rules anyway”.
This was true, but it was also one of the reasons why I was attracted to him. Yeah, people will say “of course you're attracted to the bad guys”. But it wasnt that. He could do anything he felt his heart desired and not give two fucks about what anyone thought of it. Of him. It was inspirational really. I can feel the heat return to my core when he cleans my cut with an alcohol wipe, being extra gentle despite how large his hands were compared to mine. I sat silently as he tended to my wound, which was quite small if I might add. He finishes cleaning my cut as my eyes scan the rest of his room. It was so cozy here.
“All done” he says, rubbing the raised corner of the bandaid down on my skin. He doesn't look at me again as he gets up from his squatting position and puts the box back where it was stored. He turns back to me holding his hand out.
“I can walk you home if you want” I go to reach for his hand but the sound of thunder outside stops me, causing me to jump a bit in my seat. Lo’aks head snaps in the direction of his door before he returns his gaze to me, a big gummy smile plastered on his face.
“Or.. you can stay and wait out the storm?” I chuckle.
He’s so fucking hot.
“Wouldn't want you to get wet” he follows up. His expression changed briefly. He looked almost menacing, as if he had a plan. But I would be stupid to question it. My head drops, trying to hide my blushing cheeks but I think I was too late before he noticed. He walks over to me slowly, placing his thumb and index finger on my chin and bringing my face up to look at him. His once big and bright eyes were now narrow and flirtatious. I began to grow anxious that he could hear my heart that was now pounding against my chest. I clasped my hands on my lap, surprisingly keeping eye contact as he looked at me.
“You're more quiet than I imagined,” he observes. His voice low and barley above a whisper. He rubs his thumb against my bottom lip, his expression unchanging.
“I-I’m just a bit nervous… that's all”.
“Why?” he asks.
I gulp.
“I-I don’t know” his thumb moves from my lip to caress my cheek. I could feel the rough calluses from over the years rub against my soft skin.
“Am I making you nervous.. y/n?” He steps closer. My mouth was dry, my tongue smacked against the roof of my mouth when I opened it to respond. But nothing but a whimper escaped. Unable to find the words, I nod my head ‘yes’ my head tilting further back as he towered over me. His eyes never left mine as his hand leaves my face to brush my long hair over my shoulder.
“Cat got your tongue?” he whispers seductively. I started to like what was happening way too much. My eyes closed as his hand traveled down my neck, to my shoulder and eventually down my arm. He rubbed it up and down, only brushing his fingertips against me. It feels so good.
“I know,” he says. As if he could hear my thoughts. I kept my eyes closed, thinking for a moment that I was dreaming but they shot open when I felt his breath on my face and his hands sliding slowly in between my thighs. They snap open, I look down and then up at him.
“Lo’ak! Sto-”
“Shhh, it's just a little touch” his hands turn inward, gripping the insides of my knees, parting them. My breath hitched, short and staggered as I just sat and watched what was happening. Fuck it felt so good. I licked my dry lips, looking down as he caressed the insides of my thighs, I shifted in my seat as the wetness between my legs felt like it was going to seep out of my loincloth. My hands gripped the sides of his chair and I pushed my hips forward a bit. Aching to feel more. But I could tell by his tortuously slow touch, that he didn't plan on this being quick and easy. The tension in my shoulders worsened, my knuckles turned white as all the blood rushed to the tips of my fingers from the hard grip I had on his chair. My lips parted as small whimpers escaped out of my chest. I looked up at him briefly.
There was a hunger in his eyes, it was almost as if this was something that he's been waiting for. I mean, he was moaning my name less than twenty minutes ago. So really, it made too much sense. He had a crush on me. His hands left the insides of my thigh, gliding along the sides of my legs and finding his way to my ass. He gripped the soft flesh with his hands. Groaning in response to my whimper.
“Does it taste as good as it feels?” he asks. Lifting me off the chair in one fellow swoop before I could respond. I latch onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist. My dainty hands gripped his shoulders while he carried me over to his bed. I locked eyes with him as he lowered me down. He used one hand to hold himself up while the other stayed snug around my waist. My back touched the soft fabrics on his bed and he let go. Sitting back on his knees to take in the full sight of me. His stare gave me butterflies. I've had many men look at me but not like this. It was also an “I want to eat you alive” type of look but there was something different about the man that sat above me. While I knew that this was going to end with one or the both of us coming, i couldn't help but feel as if it meant more to him than a quick fuck. I could be delusional though. He rests his hand on top of my knee, parting my leg once more and bringing the other up to the side of my waist. I went to cover my chest but he removed my hands. Bringing them up to his mouth to kiss them.
“Don't you dare” he demands, suddenly placing my hands above my head. My breath halted in my chest as he lowered himself into me, brushing his lips along my jaw, running along my cheek and to my ear.
“I'm sick of imagining what you look like naked. I wanna see” he growls. Biting the soft flesh of my ear. I yelp, pushing my chest into him. A hot fire ignited from within, one that would take gallons upon gallons of water to put out.
His hands glided down my waist, his touch was like a hot blue flame that left trails of burning flesh in its path. I could feel my loincloth sticking to my sex from my juices. And my head spun with all the possibilities of how many ways this man was about to make me come. After all these years watching him from afar, I never thought I would be in his bed at this very moment. He leaves kisses along my jaw, placing one on the corner of my mouth before he begins to move down. My hands were glued to the sheets under me as he trailed kisses down the center of my chest, leaving my top on and kissing around the mounds of my breasts. I began to breathe heavily and he continued to move. When he reached my belly he looked up at me and smiled against my skin, taking his tongue to lick just a little bit. As if it were a teaser of what was to come.
His kisses were anything but sloppy, they were firm and wanting. The sound of his lips smacking against my skin made my head spin. I looked up at the ceiling, clenching the bedsheets around me as he reached the band of my loincloth. Continuing to pepper his kisses along the outside of it. I didn't know I was moaning softly until he sat up to look at me.
“Is she aching for me?” he hooks his finger under the fabric, tugging on it lightly. “Does the kitty wanna be licked?”
Oh my fucking god
I bite my lip, looking down at him and nodding my head. Far too aroused to use my words like a big girl. And as if it were the answer he was looking for, he peels my loincloth from my skin, a string of my juices connecting me to it. He smiles, taking in my wet pussy with his eyes.
“Good girl,” he says. Wasting no time to lower himself onto his belly.
˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄ ҉  
Lo’ak
Her pussy was so wet, I could smell it from here. This was probably the one thing I couldn't form in my thoughts. I knew I needed the real thing to even come up with a scenario to jerk off to. And now I have her. Here in my bed, naked from the waist down as her pussy drips onto my bedsheets. I'm never going to wash them (just kidding). I couldn't wait any longer, positioning myself on my belly and wrapping my hands around her thighs. I blew air over her pussy, making her shiver. It was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Her little hands gripped my sheets as she kept her eyes glued to the ceiling. A part of me was jealous of the ceiling above her. I wanted her to see what I was about to do.
“Look at me, y/n” I demand. Inching my face closer to her sex. With a shaky head she looks down, the muscles in her neck in the shape of a ‘v’ as she struggles to keep her head up in this position. She was sweating already, and I could tell she was turned on by the way her pussy swelled right before my eyes. I hold eye contact, lowering my head as I steal a lick against her clit. Her head falls back but she quickly looks back down, her mouth agape while small moans come out of her mouth. I could listen to that fucking sound all day. It was like music to my ears.
Dipping my head once more, I apply soft but firm kitty licks on her clit, keeping my eyes locked on hers. Her legs were trembling as she tried to close them shut but I held them open, forcing her knees to make contact with the bed under us.
I go down again, this time wrapping my lips around her clit and suck. And I suck hard. I want her shaking, to scream my name while I make her come in my mouth with my tongue. I was thirsty for it, starving like I haven't eaten in days. I couldn't stop the animal within, not with y/n’s pussy around my lips.This is what I've been waiting for.
She was so sweet, and tender and I gulped her down, taking in every ounce that he had to offer. I treated her clit like it was a fine piece of jewelry. Rolling in around on my tongue and applying the perfect amount of pressure where I know she needed it. My groans began to match her moans as she began to buck into my face. I guided her, moving my hands under her ass to push her pussy as far into my mouth as it could go.
“Lo’ak!” she screams.
“Yes baby, say my name” I thought to myself.
Since my mouth was too full to speak.
˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ ༄ ҉  
“Lo’ak!” I shouted. Bucking my pussy against his tongue. I was so wet that I could hear my sex sloshing against his mouth. His tongue rolled perfect circles on my clit.
Sucking and licking.. Sucking and licking.
He was taking my breath away, grunting into me as we made a perfect melody together with our moans. I could feel myself getting close, trying to force my legs closed as the entrance to my pussy began to contract.
“Fuck.. I-I’m gonna come!” I declare. And I couldn't help it, I reached down, grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pushed his face further into me. His chin rested right at the entrance of my cunt and I rode his face all the way to my climax, releasing all over his nose and chin. I shook violently when I came. It's been a while and it was evident when he came up from between my legs, his chin, and neck glistening with my juices. He licks up what he can on his lips and places both hands on the sides of my waist, coming down and kissing me hard making me taste myself on him. I tasted so sweet.
Letting go of my lips with his, he leans up, pulling me with him as he straddles my legs around his waist. Working the strings to his loincloth. I look at him wide eyed. That wasn't it?!
“I'm not done with you yet baby…”
To be continued…
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onceuponastory · 3 months
Text
first footing - bucky barnes x reader
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Plot: Bucky thought he was going to spend New Year's alone, just how he likes it... until Y/N showed up. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A few mentions of alcohol and being drunk. There's also some light mentions of Bucky's past as TWS. But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: Happy New Year my lovelies! In Scotland (where I'm from if you didn't already know) we have a tradition called first footing, where the first person to enter your house in the New Year brings luck with them (and usually alcohol, hahaha). I realised I wanted to write something with Bucky and this tradition (because lord knows he needs the luck) so here we are! Consider this fic me first footing you all ❤️
Also, incase you're wondering, a dram is a small measure of whisky. Not beta'd (I wrote this quickly bc the idea hit me like an hour ago), so any mistakes are my own.
“Happy New Year!” The TV host announces, cheering with the crowd behind her, and Bucky rolls his eyes, switching it off. He hates this time of year. He knows that the old him, the Sergeant, would be out there wooing girls, with a promise to kiss each of them as soon as the clock struck twelve. He misses those days. Back when the worst thing he had to worry about was looking good for his dates, and not… everything that’s happened to him in the last seventy years. And although New Year’s exemplifies change and bettering yourself, Bucky still hates it. Sure, everyone can make a change. He’s living proof of that.
But New Year’s is just so… loud now, and there’s so much pressure to better yourself, to change something about yourself. It symbolises everything he hates. God, he really is an old man.
Or maybe he hates it because he’s spending it alone, like usual. Or that despite the amount of personal growth he’s done over the year, each new year always seems to be a horrible reminder of everything he once was, and everything he’s lost.  
Now that’s not to say Bucky hasn’t been invited to things tonight. He’d just… rather do everything but. All he wants is to go to bed and pretend tonight never happened, like the old man he is.
Suddenly, a knock on the door cuts through the air, causing Bucky to frown. He’s not expecting someone tonight. He can tell who it’ll probably be though - Steve or Sam, telling him to stop being boring and to get over to Tony’s party with the others. The knock sounds again, the person clearly impatient. “Alright, alright!” Bucky groans, making his way to the door and opening it. “Steve, I told you I’m not- Y/N?”
“Took you long enough.” She teases. Bucky’s mouth drops open, and his mind goes blank. He’s speechless. All he can do is look at her. The snow caught in her hair seems to sparkle in the light, and the way she looks at him, her trademark bright smile on her face, makes his heartbeat increase and his stomach flutter. 
God, she’s so beautiful.
“Happy New Year, Buck.” She smiles, holding up a bottle of whisky. 
“What…what are you doing here?” Bucky gasps in confusion, yet he still can’t stop a relieved smile from gracing his lips. He doesn’t have to spend his New Year alone with his thoughts. This time, he gets to spend it with his favourite person. But another thought, one that makes his heart skip a beat, hits him. Y/N chose him. Out of all the options she had, including a fancy Stark party with the others, who are most definitely more fun than he is… she still chose to spend time with him. And that makes Bucky Barnes feel like the most important person in the world.
“Well, I was going to first foot you.…” She chuckles. “But I can’t do that if you don’t let me in.” Still frowning, Bucky steps aside and helps Y/N take her coat off. 
“You’re going to what?” Y/N laughs, another burst of laughter that Bucky swears is improving his mood by the second.
“First footing. It’s a tradition where the first person to enter your house after the clock strikes twelve brings good luck with them.” She grins. “So…here I am.” 
“Y/N, you don’t have to be here. I know spending tonight with an old man like me isn’t very fun. Go party.”
“No way!” Y/N shakes her head, heading to his kitchen. “There’s no place I’d rather be than here, with my favourite person.” She calls. Bucky’s heart almost goes into overdrive.
“Thank you.” He smiles, watching her go. “It means a lot.” More than she’ll ever know.
~ * ~
“Here we go.” Y/N grins, passing Bucky his dram of whisky. “Cheers Bucky.” 
“Cheers, doll.” He chuckles, clinking his glass against hers. Together, they down their drink. Despite the minimal amount of alcohol, and the fact the serum means he can’t get drunk, Bucky still feels the familiar warm feeling pooling in his gut, and the heat spreading across his cheeks. And especially how all he wants to do is smile.
But that could just be the beautiful woman sitting opposite him, the candlelight casting a soft glow over her features. The one who chose him over everyone else. The one he’s so deeply and irrevocably in love with. He swears he could just kiss her right there and then. He just can’t bring himself to do it, or even tell her how he feels. Despite how much he loves Y/N, Bucky swears that the pain of losing her and her friendship would be enough to finish him off right there and then. So, he stays quiet and lets the pain of not telling her, and the thought she could be with someone else eat him up inside.
“Any other traditions for me tonight?” Bucky raises a brow. 
“Other than finishing this whiskey? Nope.” Y/N chuckles as Bucky pours them both some more.
“Thanks again for tonight, Y/N.” Bucky smiles. “I mean, I wasn’t going to spend it alone. I wanted to go to the party, but-” He lies, trying desperately not to sound so lonely and pathetic. But a gentle, reassuring touch on his forearm stops him. Despite the gentleness of her touch, Bucky’s skin burns under it.
“It’s alright.” Y/N smiles. “I know.” What did he ever do to deserve someone like Y/N in his life? Perhaps he was a saint in a previous life. But even that wouldn’t be enough, make him anywhere close to worthy of having Y/N as a best friend. She looks at him intently, staring into his eyes. Bucky feels the heat on his cheeks deepening. “You know….” She chuckles.
“Mhm?”
“I know you think resolutions suck, but I have one this year. And there’s no better time than half twelve in the morning on January 1st to do it, huh?”  
“I don’t think they suck, they’re just not my thing.” Bucky corrects her, but he can’t stop his brow from quirking up. “What’s your resolution?” Y/N leans in, so close Bucky can feel her breath against his skin. It’s enough to drive him crazy.
“To not let anything pass me by, to take each opportunity as it comes.” She grins.
“That’s a good resolution.” Bucky nods, regretting his words almost immediately. Why the hell would he say that, of all things?
“So. Here it goes.” Y/N takes a breath. “This may be the whisky talking, but… I refuse to go another year without telling you this. I am in love with you, Bucky Barnes.” Bucky almost keels over. He almost asks her to repeat what she just said, or even to pinch him. But then she continues. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way… well, it would hurt a lot, but I just have to tell you because I couldn’t bear another day without you knowing.”
Bucky chuckles, cupping her chin. “I’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.” He smiles, and Y/N’s grin grows just as wide. “You know….” He whispers. “There’s another New Year’s tradition I can think of.” Leaning in, he softly presses his lips to hers.
Something tells him this year is going to be pretty damn incredible.
~ * ~
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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months
Note
Hello! I was wondering if I could please make a request for dealer!remus with some angst where he has feelings for the reader, but thinks she doesn’t reciprocate so he ghosts her/ stops selling to her and she gets sad because she liked him too. Then maybe they run into each other at a party and she’s getting harassed by some guy so he steps in to help her. If not it’s okay, there’s no worries! I understand you’re probably busy, I just really love your work :)
There’s a pit in your stomach when you go to the dispensary and don’t find Remus. This is second week you’ve come in and he’s not been here.
He also hasn’t been answering to your texts. You try not to take it personally when Sirius gives you five grams and three cookies with no smile or snark.
“Is Remus well?” You ask before you leave and Sirius frowns.
“Yeah, did he tell you different, doll?” You shake your head and will tears not to spring in your eyes.
“I thought that’s why he hasn’t been in or hasn’t responded to my texts.” Before Sirius can say anything you turn your back to him, “Thanks Sirius.”
You don’t see Remus till another three weeks have passed when you let your friends drag you to Marlene’s party.
You’re sitting on the sofa in the living room, a blunt hanging from your lips as your eyes drag around the room.
It’s not that this isn’t your scene, it’s more so that you usually hang with Remus at these things so you don’t really have anything to do now.
Then your eyes land on him. He looks just as good as always, and you smile when you see him- till he turns and goes the opposite direction.
There’s a clamp around your heart at that, you don’t know what you’ve done but Remus seems to be tired or done with you completely.
How fun.
You finish the blunt and start to the kitchen, ready to pillage through Marlene’s cupboards to find hidden crunchie bars or even galaxy chocolates when someone taps your shoulder.
“Hi,” the man that stops you is good looking- objectively- and he seems kind but you’re not in the mood.
“Can i help you?” You ask distractedly, really you just want to find something to munch on.
“I’ve seen you around before at these parties and you just didn’t look like you were enjoying yourself tonight so I thought you might want some company.”
You shrug his hand off your shoulder, “No thanks. M’good on my own.”
It seems like that mustn’t have sit right with the man and his hand clamps around your wrist.
“There’s no need to be prissy about it,” he starts and while you try pulling your wrist from his grip you don’t notice Remus coming up behind you.
“Think you should let ‘er go mate,” his voice is gravelly as he speaks, like he’s smoked too much in recent weeks.
“Who’re you?” The man asks and you roll your eyes, grateful for the distraction because his hold slackens and you can carry on to the kitchen.
“You alright, dove?” Remus asks as he follows behind you. He watches you look around for snacks. Your head doesn’t turn in his direction and Remus feels a punch to his gut at it.
“Perfect. Thanks for getting rid of him, but I’m fine Remus.”
It’s petty, but using his name like that makes him know you’re not happy with him. Honestly, he wouldn’t be happy with himself either.
“Will you look at me for a second?” He murmurs and you scoff.
“I’d rather not. Can we go back to pretending we hate each other? The ghosting was a good move too.”
You don’t sound yourself and Remus can feel the bile churning in his stomach at the realization that he’s been a perfect fool.
“Dove,” your hand slams on the counter.
Finally you turn to face him, “No! You don’t get to stop talking to me for gods know what reason, stop dealing to me alone and then whirl in to stop some grim guy from being a pushy prick and think we’re fine.”
“You wanted to act like we don’t know each other, so go back to it.”
Remus just stands quietly as you seethe and that makes you even more upset.
“The only good thing about your ghosting is is stifled the fucking ridiculous idea I had of you and I being more than friends. So thanks for the reality check Remus, I’ll be going now.”
When you try to walk away he stands in your way and holds your hands. “Wait,” he takes a breath, “I’m sorry. For not talking to you or explaining what was going on. That was proper stupid of me.”
You just stare at him, blank and it’s then Remus notices how you used to look at him. All heart eyes, honey smile and affection.
“Yeah it was but you don’t get to just worm your way back. You were mean and what made it worse is you couldn’t just tell me what I did wrong.”
Remus shakes his head, “You didn’t do anything wrong, dove.” He watches your eyes full with tears.
“That doesn’t make it better, Remus.” When your voice cracks he pulls you into his chest.
“I’m sorry dove, I’m sorry.” It’s all he repeats and Remus can physically feel his heart crack at the fact that he’s made you cry. “God I’ve been stupid. I thought going cold turkey from you would’ve been the best thing to help the fact that I was falling madly in love with you.”
“You could’ve just said something,” you mumble into his shirt and Remus nods. “That was stupid.”
“I’ve already conceded to that point, dove.”
“I’ve not forgiven you yet.” You say to his playfulness and Remus sighs.
His hand cups your cheeks and tips your face upwards. “How can I make it up to you and not be the idiot who made you cry?”
You hum, “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure something out.”
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ultralightpoe · 1 year
Text
Tiktok Trouble Pt 2- Jake Seresin
Authors Note: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE 
Word Count: 2253
Warnings: Allusions to smexy times
Description: You love pranking your husband, and tiktok loves it too
Authors Plea: Hey guys! I love likes and reblogs and I thank you all so so much. BUT I LIVE FOR COMMENTS! I really enjoy when you guys tell me what you like and dislike and what you want to see more of, so I beg for more comments. LOVE YOU ALL!
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Enjoy!
The morning of your errands had started off salty with Jake, who content with bitching about everything, and you had gotten just as snippy with him considering you had been in such a good mood when you both left the house. But he had worn you down, now you were sitting in the car with your thighs sticking to his leather seats like crazy (he hated air conditioning and the heat was just clinging to you) while he ran in and grabbed what he needed from this store. 
Normally Jake would take you in with him, but today he made a snippy comment about not wanting to be in there forever so you rolled your eyes and turned the music up as he got out, cracking the windows like you were a dog. 
It’s here you got the idea.
You had taken a break from posting pranks on tiktok, your guys’ sink had actually busted (Jake was so happy he watched the videos) and one of his old navy brothers had lost their lives so you both had flown out for the funeral. After that everything just seemed to be too busy, and Jakes mood was ever so cranky as of late. But today seemed like a good day to try and lighten the mood. So you set up your phone and waited, once you saw him come out of the store you began fighting something in the backseat. 
Jake, as first, seems to think you are looking for something and when he gets into the car he slaps your thigh lightly. “What’d you lose?”
“NOTHING! BUT THIS BITCH HAS LOST HER MIND!” You snap and start swinging at an imaginary figure in the back. Jake stops and stares at you, leaning against his door as he tries to figure out what is going on while you act out a very angry fight. 
“What. Is. Happening?”
“Bubs, she’s running her fucking mouth to me right now- seriously? No YOUR MOM-” You are about to swing at the air again and he catches your hand, pulling you back and reaching to feel your forehead. 
“We should get you some water-”
“Mind your fucking business!” You shout to the back and your husband nods aggressively and turns to the back to snap out a ‘bitch’ before turning to you and moving to buckle you in. 
“You tell her. You tell that….bitch?” He really doesn’t seem to know what to do, so he simply buckles you and reaches for the water bottle he brought, that’s when he sees your phone. “Oh for the love of-”
You’re laughing your ass off and he’s covering his face as you turn off the video. “Really?! I was so confused!”
“I’m sorry. You were being such a sourpuss this morning and I HAD TO!” You laugh, kissing his elbow as he continues rubbing his face.  “Love you bubs.”
“I love you too. Even when I think you’re batshit crazy.”
—------------------------
COMMENTS:
“The thigh slap- PLEASE LORD I’LL BE GOOD-”
“LMAO, when he finally just gives in and helps”
“SNSJKSJJANNX X I WANT THEM BOTH! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!”
“Y/n has now proven she can fight anyone that tries to take her man”
—-----------------------
“Sugar?!” Jake calls from the bottom of the stairs, tapping his foot a little impatiently as he waits for your response. You, being the perfect wife who would never do anything wrong in her life ever, closed out the webpage of adoptable dogs that your husband specifically said no to and ran to the stairs. 
“Yeah bubs? What’s up?” You smile, watching his face morph into suspicion. 
“Didn’t like that one bit- but I need to run to the store and figure out what pipes match our sink. You’ll be okay here?”
“Will I be okay in the air conditioned house with my handsome husband out going to get stuff for our sink? All lonely and sad and ever so hor-”
“Okay okay, just gimme a kiss.” He laughs, waiting for you to run down the stairs and kiss him before you get an idea and run back up the stairs as he leaves. 
You snatch your phone and film a quick video of him getting into the car before screen recording yourself texting him ‘Come over he just left’ once you are sure he’s down the block.  Then you wait, until you hear a sharp screech and see his car zooming into the driveway. You set up your phone to record on his dresser and run to your shared bathroom as he books it up the stairs. 
“Y/n?” He asks when he reaches the bedroom, looking nothing less of pissed. 
“Yeah bubs? I thought you were going out?” You call from the bathroom, fixing your hair as you waited. 
“I decided that you broke the sink and should come with me.” He says sternly, crossing his arms and leaning on your dresser, the camera catching his jaw flex perfectly.  You swing the door open with wide eyes looking nothing less than excited. 
“Can we stop for pops?” You know he loves when you say pops instead of soda, and he tries not to smile. 
“As soon as you tell me what dumbass you were trying to sleep with in OUR BED.” He snaps, giving you a tight lipped smile with his arms still crossed. 
“Ohhhh yeah…. About that….” You smile, pointing to the camera and watching his face relax instantly. “Say hi to your fans bubs-”
“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs, pulling you in to kiss you before standing up and walking to the door. “Grab your phone and purse. You’re still coming with me.”
—--------------------
COMMENTS:
“Girl, he’s MILITARY. Are you trying to get hit?”
– “STFU, that man does not hit woman unless they ask. Watch their other vids”
“The way his arms flex when he crosses them. I see now why she likes pissing him off.”
“They f***ed in the car. FOR SURE”
—--------------------
Before Jake got home from work you had hot glued the olive jar while taping it, then started cooking dinner while you waited. When you heard the sound of his keys in the door you started filming, leaving your phone on the table as you moved back to the stove. 
“Evenin’ Sugar.” He smiles, moving to you and kissing your shoulder as you move a cheek to him so he can kiss that as well. “Whatcha makin’?”
“Your in a good mood, that southern drawl comes out when you are.” You smile, watching him set his keys on the counter and reach across you to steal a green bean.
“Watched Rooster do 100 pushups.” He laughs before wrapping his arms around you. “What time do your parents get here?”
“About an hour- can you open that jar for me?” You ask sweetly pointing to the jar of olives you had glued. 
“What do I get out of it?” He teases, already snatching the jar. He tugs on it once, twice, then he gets frustrated and puts all his strength into it, face pinching up as he grunts out. “You’re kidding me..”
“Can’t get it?” You ask, moving closer as he tries again, grunting and turning red. “How about you go get changed and try again when you come back?”
He nods, setting it down with a face of disbelief and allowing you to kiss his cheek before running off to change. You snatch the jar and take it to the fridge, replacing it with the jar you hadn’t glued, setting it up. When you know he is within eyepoint you grab the fresh jar and pop it open with ease. 
“WOAH BABY!” He laughs, picking you up and spinning you around. “I married she hulk.”
“It wasn’t that hard.”
“Now you’re just hurtin my feeling- HEY GOTCHA!” He spots the camera, keeping you lifted in one arm while he points at it. “You tried messing with me and I busted ya-”
“Okay okay- put me down.” You laugh, gripping his shoulder to not fall. “Bubs-”
“Nope!” He laughs, reaching for the sink hose and dousing you with it making you squeal. 
—--------------
COMMENTS:
“I think he is finally catching on”
“Making us all wet- oop”
—---------------
The next prank a whole two weeks, both of you getting busy with work and not having much time together besides sleeping, but you finally had a day off….which meant torturing your husband obviously.
You had woken up before him and gotten ready, doing your hair and makeup just the way he liked whilst picking an outfit you knew he loved before walking downstairs and putting a little heart over the date on the calendar just to fool him a little more. 
He trudged downstairs while you were on the phone with your parents, taking a second to lean on the counter and admire you while drinking the coffee you already prepared for him, wiggling his eyebrows when you turned to him while talking. 
What he didn’t know was that you were talking on a fake phone whilst yours was hidden on a shelf filming him. “Yes! I’m very excited for tonight, I think Jake is gonna try to surprise me.”
His eyebrows stop wiggling and pinch together in confusion as he pulls the cup away from his lips, mouthing a ‘what’ as you point to the calendar and then leave the room to keep ‘talking to your parents’.
Your husband looks at the calendar and sees the heart, head snapping to the side as he tries to think about what today was supposed to be. “Crap crap crap-”
The only problem came when your phone actually started ringing, drawing his attention to where it was hidden to film. “AHA!”
You laugh from the other room, knowing you were busted and the prank had failed, walking in to watch him flip the camera off and turn it off. “You haven’t been on your a game , lovely wife. I expect better.”
“Bring it on then.” You smile, enjoying the cocky smile that fills his face. 
—------------
So you upped your game, you bought a couple cameras to hide around and you thought of some great ideas. Jake Seresin was gonna regret marrying you. 
The first day he was gone on a mission you decided that instead of worrying about your husbands safety you would rather learn the WAP dance to piss him off when he gets back. The day after his return he is laying on the couch with his eyes closed (you made him tired after a long night in his defense) and you decide that you want to show him a tiktok dance.
“Okay I’m gonna set up the phone here,” You explain, leaning it against your tv before taking a couple steps back for dancing room. 
“Oh so I know where the camera is this time?” He teases, you snort and try not to look where the mini camera is hidden by his game console. 
“Just watch-” You laugh, playing the song. His eyes widen when it starts playing and then you start dancing and he is shooting up. By the time the song got to the actual WAP part he is dashing to snatch you up of the floor. 
“No ma’am.” He laughs, hanging you in the air like a dog that just got busted.
“WAIT! THERE IS MORE!” You laugh as he goes to turn the phone off. 
“Sorry Sugar but I really don’t need the squad seeing my gorgeous wife dancin’ like a stripper all over the internet. Save it for the bedroom.” He sets you down and smacks your ass harshly while laughing before he leaves the room thinking you hadn’t gotten any of that on film….sucker.
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COMMENTS:
“THE LAUGH AFTER HE SPANKED HER! STFU FNJENFJDBSB”
“LET HER FINISH THE DANCE! NOOOOO-”
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“JAKE SERESIN!” You shout, winking to the camera that was hidden in the kitchen and wait. The second you shouted with an angry tone you heard his phone drop and the sound of his feet hitting the stairs to rush to you. Once you were sure he could see you, you pretend to be angry. 
You have your arms crossed and a harsh glare as he comes into the kitchen looking like a little puppy. 
“Yes Sugar?”
“You got something you wanna tell me?” You ask, taking a step back when he takes a step for you. His eyes flash hurt and for a second you wanna tell him it’s a prank, but you double down and wait. 
“I….I uhm- well…..I forgot our anniversary?” He guesses, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “No! Wait! I missed your families monthly dinner- no w-”
“Final answer?”
“Wait, Y/n baby, just tell me what I did. No gimme a hint.” He rushes, falling to his knees. THE MAN ACTUALLY FELL TO HIS KNEES, and grabbed at your thighs. You break then, laughing and grabbing his jaw softly. 
“Just a prank babe.” You smile, kissing his temple and he whips back to glare. 
“You know what?”
“What?”
“I’m gonna make a tiktik and start pranking you!” He seethes and you crack up, but he shakes his head. “You’re laughing now, but you just started a war sugar.”
“Bring it on Bubs.”
“Oh I will.” He flips off your phone which makes you laugh harder already knowing that the phone wasn’t recording and he kisses your cheek before walking off. 
“See you soon…..”
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COMMENTS:
H_ngman: You have been warned!
Mrs.Bagman: Bring it on!!!
Authors Plea: Hey guys! I love likes and reblogs and I thank you all so so much. BUT I LIVE FOR COMMENTS! I really enjoy when you guys tell me what you like and dislike and what you want to see more of, so I beg for more comments. LOVE YOU ALL!
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