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#that doesn’t mean that anything she did was okay but she made some good points
jealousjersey · 3 days
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₊࿔*:・୧”too sweet”₊˚࿔*:・୧
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pairing // mike schmidt x gn!reader fluff
mentions // purely fluff just some nice and sweet content, pet names, reader is overwhelmed and stressed with everything and mike uplifts you, y/n isn’t mentioned, reader in college, reader and mike are in a situationship, mentions of being cheated on by past shitty gender unspecified partner
1.4k wc
tags // mike schmidt x reader fluff, purely fluff fic, pet names, slight angst
authors note // yes this is inspired by too sweet by hozier i’ve played it 18 times today (still listening to it) also per request (ty anon) fluff
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school is kicking your ass. the lectures are too long and not informative at all, although you’ve had exams all week, they never seem to contain the information you’re supposedly learning.
you don’t even live on campus so you constantly feel like you’re missing out on important events and information. it’s truly exhausting.
that is until you get home, you’ve been in a situationship with this security guard worker, mike. you’ve talked and had dates, even had sex a few times but it doesn’t suffice you. you were made to be a lover, but right now you’re just a piece of ass. you want mike to love you, well, right now it feels more than a need. you want to finally receive the love that you give.
once your classes are done, you leave campus. taking the subway back to your apartment, luckily you don’t live too far, but not close enough to walk. and instead of wasting gas on driving to and from school, so why not take the safer option and just take the train?
as you arrive at your apartment, you finally get to lay down on your bed. you feel a tear fall from your eyes but you’re not sure why. today wasn’t too bad…but your body’s reaction is telling you different. you check the time and wait-
it’s the 2 year anniversary of your ex cheating on you, well atleast it’s the anniversary of the day you found out. you check the date and you get flashbacks, flashbacks to you coming to surprise them at their house for your 1 year together.
you arrive with tickets to some indie concert in hand. but instead you were practically hit in the face with realization as you saw her. she looked…perfect. you still wonder how they ended up with her. but let’s face it, you knew there was signs. but you chose to ignore them.
as of now, you’re laying face down on your bed, basically crying at this point. your breath hitches as you just lay there, helpless. until suddenly
knock knock
“hey? anyone here?” you hear a familiar voice enter your house. it’s mike schmidt, the man you’ve been talking to for a few months. wait a second-
“how did you get in?” you question. you thought you locked the door but apparently not.
“oh, the door was halfway open. wanted to check to see if you were being robbed” he says as he gets a good look at you “shit are you okay?” he asks worried, staring at your puffy face, your swollen eyes as tears leak from them.
his worry makes you feel better. you’ve waited on somebody to actually care about how you were, not just ask without remorse in their eyes. but mike actually cares, and it feels good. it feels like he gives you a little sliver of comfort.
“yeah, i’m fine…schools kicking my ass and-” you cut yourself off, he’s just a fling, why does he get to know your personal problems? but something inside you just tells you to come clean. “2 years ago today i went through hell with my ex. he cheated and things went…down from there you could say.” you open up, not wanting to share anything that could bring back more deep memories- maybe mentioning the abuse would be too far.
“oh baby, i’m sorry. you need me here with you? i can get take out and we can watch one of your weird cartoons” he says. you chuckle. does he mean anime? you don’t even watch it that much, maybe he’s basing his suspicions on the death slayer poster in your room that you got because it looked cool. i mean, you only watched a episode or two. it might make you a poser but it looks good in your room so what’s the harm?
“yeah, take out sounds great. and we can just watch a movie or something.” you smile at his request, your eyes still puffy. mike notices this and sits next to you on your bed, bringing a hand to your cheek as he gently brushes a thumb over your eye bags, taking in the darkness.
“i’m gonna be right back, you want take out chinese food?” he asks with a smile as he presses a kiss onto your cheek. you slightly nod.
“gotta use your words baby” he teases you. “yes, chinese food is perfect” you smile “amazing, i’ll be back in 30. don’t fall asleep” he says as he points a finger in your direction and smiles softly
30 minutes pass, you just stay in your bed until he arrives, he walks in without knocking. “baby, i’m here” he yells, arms full with bags of chinese food. god, how much did he get?
you silently laugh to yourself at the site: mike with both hands carrying giant take out bags that say “thank you” with a smile face, his keys on his mouth and his pinky closing the door. it’s…really funny to be honest.
you snap out of your daze and run to help him, taking the bags out his hands and placing them on your kitchen island. you see him huff out a short breath, taking the keys out of his mouth and hanging them on the key holder.
you place a short kiss on his lips “thank you love” you say. a blush creeps onto his face. he wonders why he’s feeling so intense at your small gesture, i mean it’s not like you two are official….
you two get cuddled up on the couch together. he always said your couch is weird, two seats with a middle compartment in the center, dividing the chairs. he says it’s not ideal for cuddling but you make it work, the chairs aren’t small per say, but you can both fit on k it with ease, kicking up the leg so you can both lay comfortably.
you put on some movie that was recommended through the roku app. it doesn’t matter what movie it was, it just matters that you had mike with you.
soon enough he’s yawning, the mint aroma coming from his mouth isn’t bad. it’s kinda nice. before he could close his mouth fully you kiss him gently, wanting more of that mint taste. he returns the kiss, using the same pace you started.
as you let go, you ask the dreaded question. “do you want to be with me? romantically?” he stops and freezes before speaking. “honey, you’re too good for me- i..i’m not the best person. you’re full of love, i don’t want you to waste it on me, you’re too sweet for me.” he says. you look confused, you know you want to love him. why isn’t he accepting?
“but i want to be with you. i want to love you, and if im being honest i think i kind of already do.” you say after a moment.
“you…really?” he looks confused, almost baffled by your statement. do you really want to love him? like fully and truly?
“god yes mike, I try not to call but there’s some days that i really, really want to. i want to hear your voice, i want to hear you laugh. hell, i even want to smell your cologne. but i stop myself because i know you want something casual.” you blurt out.
“who said i wanted casual? baby i was waiting for you to say that. i think ive been in love with you since we first started talking. it sounds cheesy i know, but i really do.” he responds, making your heart flutter for a moment as you blink, suddenly feeling his breath against your ear.
“i only want you” he whispers, putting emphasis on only. immediately you blush more than ever in his presence. “really?” you can’t help but whisper back. is this really happening? are you about to have a boyfriend?
“really. you are the only person i ever want to be with. promise” he says as he puts his pinky out, asking for yours. sealing it with a pinky promise. he knows you’re serious about those so him doing this for you means a lot.
“you’re the only person i want to be with mike, has been that way since i think i first spoke to you. were so dumb” you laugh.
“yeah but we’re dumb together” he chuckles back as he holds you closer to him.
“so….are we dating or what?” you ask, popping your lips after “so”.
“let me ask you” he fixes his messy hair and uses a takeout napkin as a tie around his neck. “would you like to date me” he says sincerely, still a hint of laughing under his voice.
“fuck it, sure” you laugh as you bury yourself into his neck.
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percyjacksonchase · 2 years
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the umbrella academy fandom really said all of the siblings can fuck up and do horrible things and lash out because of their trauma. except for the black woman cause that’s not allowed
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d0youc0py · 9 months
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Heyyy. This might b triggering so it’s okay if u don’t do it, but how would 141 + Konig react if reader was @ her friends house and got in the middle of an argument between friend + her bf and friends bf ended up hitting reader? (Kinda self indulgent 🫣)
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“You always do this Simon!” You growled, shoving some clothes into an overnight bag.
“Do what?” He snapped back. He stood in the doorway, trying to slow his breathing. He was upset- more than upset, but he refused to loose his patience with you. “Just want to keep you safe kid.” He reminded.
“You’re trying to isolate me!” You shouted, making your way towards the bathroom. “Every time I try to do anything you always tell me it’s not safe- or that I shouldn’t trust this person. Newsflash Simon I have been able to survive on this earth without you.”
“I don’t like him.” He held strong. He wouldn’t compromise with you if he felt you were at risk. Your friend had invited you to spend the night at her house for a sleepover, and when you broke the news to Simon his first question was: ‘will that slag of hers be there?’ To be honest you hadn’t even thought about it. Why did it matter if he was there? You knew Simon trusted you but his constant distrust of other people was starting to wear on you.
“That doesn’t really matter Simon.” You sighed. You stood in front of him expectantly, waiting for him to move out of the frame. “Besides what evidence to you have against him?”
“He’s a strange man.” He responded.
“He’s not a stranger Simon. We’ve been on like three double dates with them.” You huffed, taking it upon yourself to push past him when he refused to move. He growled to himself, following you around the flat. Suddenly his hands gripped your hips pulling you back towards him. His neck bent down and you instinctually made room for his head by tilting yours to the side.
“Just stay home with me tonight, yeah?” The anger left your body at his soft words and the small kisses placed against your neck. “Or at least say you can’t spend the night. No reason for you to be away for that long.” You turned in his arms, placing a kiss against his chin.
“Simon I’ll be fine, yeah?” You murmured, causing another huff to escape him.
•••
That turned out to be a fat lie.
“Do you think Simon’s going to propose anytime soon?” She asked causing you to flush. “You two have been together for what, three, four years?”
“Just two.” You corrected politely. “I don’t know honestly, haven’t really thought about it much.”
“Such a lie.” She snickered, wiggling her brows at you. You rolled your eyes waving her off.
“Keep it down in there!” You both jumped at the sudden boom from the living room.
“Sorry Rick!” Your friend shouted, seemingly unbothered by his nasty tone. A pit formed in your stomach.
“He always talk to you like that?” You asked, keeping your voice down. She looked at you with a small smile.
“Just when I’m bothering him. Surely Simon snaps at you.” She explained. How could she not realize how out of touch her statement was.
“Not like that.” You said.
“What’s that suppose to mean?” You winced as Ricks voice rung out from behind you. How the hell were you suppose to get out of this one? “You comin into my house, filling my girls head with shite?” He snarled. You quickly stood up.
“No, course not.” You smiled, making your way towards the door.
“I’m good to her.” He huffed, following your footsteps. You nodded your head in agreement.
“I’m sure you are.” You offered a weak smile, peaking behind you to make sure you didn’t trip over any furniture. His arm darted out gripping yours, tugging you close to him.
“You’re sure?” He pressed. You were a quivering mess at this point. Fear and adrenaline being to much for your body to process.
“Rick!” Your friend yelled. He threw a harsh ‘shut up’ over his shoulder. Your mind raced trying to remember even just one technique Simon had showed you. You wished you had payed more attention, instead of just staring at his arms the whole time.
“You’re sure?” He growled again giving you a shake.
“Stop!” You shouted. It was met with a harsh smack to your face.
“I’ve got neighbors you little”- His words were cut off as Simon’s words finally rang through your head:
“When in doubt, aim for the balls or the throat.”
You decided the first one was the most viable option. It had caught him off guard enough to loosen his grip and it was all you needed, slamming the front door shut behind you. You had made it down the flight of stairs, your hands searching your pockets for your phone only to realize you had left it inside.
“Fuck.” You whimpered, trying to make heads or tails of where you were. You weren’t overly familiar with this area. But you were familiar with the fast approaching figure heading towards you. “Simon.” You gasped, hurdling yourself towards him. You didn’t know why he was here but you sure as shit weren’t complaining.
Even through your own shakes you could feel him tremble against you. You let out a sob as he tried to pull away from you.
“He touch you?” He growled, none of it’s malice towards you. Your cheek burned and you could only imagine the mark it had left.
“I want to go home.” You sputtered, burying your face in the safety of his shoulder. He swallowed down his anger to the best of his ability.
“Alright, sweetheart.” He murmured against your head. He carried you to the truck, buckling you up. He continued to let you cling to him until you had calmed, and the loudest thing between you two was his pounding heartbeat. “Tell me what happened, yeah?” He hummed, trying his hardest to fake some calmness.
“He grabbed my arm.” You whispered. His chest heaved. “And”- you cut yourself off. Taking a small breath you pulled away from him, his heated eyes quickly falling on the bruise already spreading over half your face. His face flushed, but he was able to hold in the burning of his body.
“Sweetheart.” He said slowly. He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Give me the apartment number.”
“1G.” You said, with surprisingly little hesitation. Whatever Simon was about to do, it was deserved.
When Simon came back he was shockingly clean, and shockingly poised. He tossed your overnight bag into the back seat and handed you your phone when he got into the drivers seat.
“Simon”- he cut you off by tangling both your hands with one of his, pulling out of the parking garage. You didn’t need to know. You didn’t need to know that he had broken down a door- and almost every bone in that man’s body. That he had been waiting outside the apartment building for the past three hours, stewing in his own protectiveness. Your friend wasn’t even mad. She didn’t bat an eye when Simon asked to use her bathroom to clean himself up a bit- not wanting that man’s blood anywhere near your precious body.
He brought your hands up pressing a kiss against your knuckles, pulling into the grocery store parking lot for a bag of frozen peas and ice cream.
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He wasn’t suppose to be home yet. He had at least another week away- another week for your bruised face to heal. It had just began to look better, the harsh purple color fading to more of a greenish yellow color.
He opened the door, steadying himself for the only attack he actually enjoyed. Your pressing yourself as close to him as you could, tangling your limbs with any part of him, your lips suffocating any thought he had other than he was finally home with you. His stomach dropped when it never came, shutting to door behind him his bag thumping loud against the floor.
“Sweetheart?” His voice boomed, the worst running through his head. He reminded himself he wasn’t suppose to be home for another week and that you weren’t expecting him. Yet your car was in the driveway and there was still no sign of you.
“I’m here.” His shoulders relaxed, your voice melting his brain just right.
“Where are y”- he stopped himself. You were standing in front of him. The realization as to why you weren’t all over him right now crashing down on him harder than a bullet. You- his literal everything- adorned with a sickening brush on your cheek. The same cheek he would brush his beard against to make you laugh. The same cheek his fingers would stroke to self soothe when his brain was just too loud. The same cheek that would flush berry red when he mumbled certain things against you.
“I can explain.” You said quickly, allowing him to maneuver the two of you to the couch. You quickly found your designated spot on his lap, hoping your touch would cause the storm that was about to ensure lighten.
“I want a name.” His voice was calm. Too calm.
“It was an accident. Fell in the garden and hit myself on that big rock you keep telling me to look out for.”
He wasn’t buying it. His face stone cold, as his thumb traced over the healing brush gently.
“I’ll be good.” He assured. He couldn’t fathom why you wanted to protect this person. Must’ve been someone you knew. “Name, please.”
“John.” You whined, clawing at his shirt. He huffed and relaxed you against him, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
“You don’t want to tell me because you think I’ll overreact.” He couldn’t even blame you for that. The man would happily start a war over you. “I won’t touch ‘em, I promise.” He whispered. His hand rubbed up and down your back and you realized just how much you needed the comfort. His hand stopped at your neck, massaging the tense muscles. “Just need to know who hurt my love, hmm?”
“Promise you won’t hurt anyone?” You insisted using his chest to cover up a yawn. He hummed, nodding his head.
“Rick. Remember Kelsey’s boyfriend? I went over to her house and he showed up drunk yelling at her about some fight they had earlier. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut and before I knew it he hit me.” You explained. The normally comfortable body under you had turned ridged, his heartbeat drumming against your ear. “John?”
“That wasn’t so hard was it?” He chuckled slowly against your temple. “Did you”-
“Put a frozen steak on it? Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that happened darling.” He sighed. His large hands gripped your sides pulling you away from him just for a moment. “If something like that ever happens again you call me, understand?” His eyebrow rose to show his seriousness.
“Yes sir.” You swore a small smile on your lips.
He had kept his promise- he didn’t hurt anyone. But he couldn’t allow someone who hurt you live a comfortable life. It would go against his oath to you if he did.
And besides, someone has to make the enemy afraid of the dark.
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He should’ve know better than to leave you alone. He thought that for just one moment while he went to the bathroom it would be safe. You had been tucked under his arm the whole evening, so everyone knew who you were there with. It was his fault for assuming his physique was enough to keep any unwanted advancements away. Time slowed as he came out of the bathroom, his trained eyes spotting you right where he had left you, except you were on the floor. Tears streaming down that perfect face of yours, your own hand cupping your cheek. He didn’t even need to see your best friend pulling at her boyfriends arm in shock- or the way his green eyes stared at his own hand like it had just appeared out of thin air to know what had happened.
Johnny was by your side in an instant, pulling your hazy body to its feet. He’d experienced this before on the field. Everything moving in slow motion- hyper focusing on the important things. Right now it was you.
“Mac.” You gasped, your fingers curling into his shirt sleeve. Like a shockwave he was pulled back into real time. The loud chatter of the bar. The smell of cigarettes and stale beer. The fear rolling off of you. It made his blood boil. He turned to look at Rick his mind going into autopilot. His hand shot out grabbing him by the shirt collar on flinging him backwards. The bar went dead silent the only sound was Ricks body slamming into the wall of liquor bottles behind the bar. Johnny took a few steps forward wanting to finish what he had just started. That wasn’t enough of a punishment. He wouldn’t be happy till he was unrecognizable. “Jo.” Your pleading voice snapped him out of it once more.
In that moment he realized how selfish he was. You were scared and needed assurance, not seeing your husband nearly kill someone. He wrapped a sturdy arm around you guiding you out of the disheveled bar. The cold felt good against your heated bodies.
“I don’t know what happened.” You sputtered, letting the Scot support your body weight. “Camilla was making a joke about how angry Rick gets when she folds his laundry wrong and I made a joke about how she still does his laundry and then he”-
You couldn’t even get through the story.
“Let me see.” Johnny hushed, gently removing your hand from your face. He leaned forward pressing a light kiss against the throbbing flesh. “How bad does it hurt?”
“Six out of ten.” You responded, nuzzling your way back into his strong chest. All you wanted was to be home in bed in the safety of his arms. The smell of pine tickled your brain enough for the tears to stop.
“Should go back there and”-
“No.” You huffed.
“That number is too damn high for me to let him off easy.”
“Easy? You threw the man across the room with one hand.” You reminded.
“Should make it so he only has one hand.”
“Johnny.” The use of his full name stopped the unintelligible Scottish rambling that was sure to ensue. “Can we go home please?”
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“Hey sweetheart, need me to come pick you up?” Kyle spoke into the phone that was resting between his shoulder and his cheek. When you sniffled into the phone he didn’t even bother to pause his game, his fingers gripping the device in his hand.
“Ky.” You mumbled. You mumbled in that specific tone that cracked his heart in such a wince worthy way. “I need help.” His blood ran cold.
“Stay on the phone with me, yeah.” He demanded, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes. “What happened?” The sound of his car starting settled you a little bit. “You still at your friends house?”
“No, I’m down the street, by the library.” You sniffed. “He hit me, Ky.”
A sound let Kyles throat- a mix of a growl and a whine. His foot pressed even harder against the accelerator, running straight through a red light. His body was shaking, adrenaline heightening his senses. He wished the two of you didn’t live in such a big city with so much fucking traffic.
“Who’s he?” Kyle snarled.
“Jess’s boyfriend.” You emphasized. “They got into a stupid fight about which Pizza to order for lunch and all I did was fucking agree with her.”
He felt sick. He’d seen a lot of gruesome shit in his life, but the thought of someone hurting you took the cake. He could imagine how scared you were- how scared you are. He can see the tears welling up in your eyes and he imagined your heart rate was about the same as his right now. He can imagine you scrambling to find a way out of there- away from the danger.
“After this we’re practicing those damn self dense moves.” He gritted. You mumbled an ‘okay’ before seeing a familiar sleek, black car pull up next to you.
“How’d you get here so fast?” You questioned, hanging up the phone as he got out of the car.
“Let me see.” He insisted, pressing the back of his palm against your heated cheek. You winced, shying away. “Let’s go get you some ice.” He said mostly to himself. He rested a hand on the back of your neck guiding you to the passenger side.
He kept his hand in your lap the whole drive to the grocery store. “What pizza did he want?”
“Pepperoni with mushrooms.” You replied. The rest of the ride was silent, Kyle went into the store without you.
“Hold this against your face.” He pressed a bag of frozen peas to your cheek. He unwrapped your favorite candy bar, placing it in your lap. Even with your swollen face you couldn’t stop a smile. “I need to make a quick stop before we go home.” His eyes flickered over to you, the same flash of anger striking through him as he took your appearance in. You didn’t think anything of it till he turned down your friends street.
“Kyle.” You mumbled. The last thing you wanted to do was be back here.
“I know baby, I know.” He tried his best to soothe, but he was so riled up. He needed to get this out of his system. Besides he couldn’t just let people hurt you and get away with it. “Stay here, I’ll only be a second.” He closed the door behind him, grabbing a frozen pizza that you didn’t even know he got out of the backseat. You watched anxiously as he made his way up the driveway ringing the doorbell.
The door opened to reveal Rick and Kyle wasted absolutely no time shoving the frozen pizza in his face. The strength of it sent Rick flying backwards and Kyle took the upmost pleasure in the loud crack of his nose breaking.
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“Traffic is bad mein Herz. I’m going to be a little late.” You huffed at his words.
“Drive safe I’ll see you soon.”
“He running late?” Your friend questioned as you made your way back into the kitchen.
“Yeah, should be here soon though.” She smiled, taking dinner out of the oven. “Help me set up?” She asked over her shoulder, making her way to the dinning room. You began grabbing the silverware out of the drawer.
“No, Konig?” Rick asked, sitting down at the kitchen island. You shook your head.
“He’ll be here soon.” You assured.
“That’s too bad.” His hand landing on your hip followed his slimy words.
“What are you doing?” You spat, backing away. He shushed you.
“Keep you’re voice down. Don’t want her to find us out, yeah?” He said, nodding his head towards the dinning room.
“There is nothing to find out!” You must’ve said it too loud, because Ricks hand flung forward connecting with your cheek. You dropped the spoons in your hand, then clattering loudly on the floor. You didn’t even have time to feel scared, catching sight of the colossal figure in the doorway.
Rick followed your gaze and it was almost laugh worthy at how quickly he lost all confidence.
“Schatz?” Konig held out his car keys to you. “Wait in the car, please.”
Gentle blue eyes watched you, almost chuckling at the way you skipped over to him. Konig reveled in the way you trusted him. Trusted him to take care of you- to protect you. Later he would wrap you up in his arms and hold a bag of ice to your face, but right now he had other things to deal with.
“And turn the music up. It might get loud in here.”
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armageddidnt · 7 months
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Welcome to My Collection of Random Thoughts during my nth* rewatch of Good Omens Season 2
*only amazon prime knows the exact number at this point but I’m fairly certain it’s in the double digits
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Episode 1: Gabriel’s fly lurking in the box when Aziraphale first takes it inside 👀
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Crowley’s promise of “two minutes” basically means that he’s been homeless and living in his car for the past 4 years strictly so that he can be within 2 driving minutes of Aziraphale at all times in case his angel needs him I’m not crying you are
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So here I think the key word is “fragile,” Crowley knows they are ostensibly safe from their respective sides but that could change at any moment so he’s basically spent the last 4 years in anxiety-ridden terror hovering as close to Aziraphale as he can to try and protect him from heaven, hell, and anyone else that would want to bring him harm after all that business they pulled in season 1 with stopping Armageddon
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Episode 2: I just happened to pause the episode while Aziraphale is lying to the angels about his miracle and LOL Michael really outdid himself here (Sheen, not the Archangel)
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Gabriel trying to swat flies and almost smashing the repository of every single one of his memories
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I’m cAckling
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So if Good Omens exists in Good Omens, does that mean Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett exist in Good Omens?? Do you think they based their Aziraphale and Crowley characters on Aziraphale and Crowley??
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Episode 3: So I’m trying to find any hints or foreshadowing of the Gabriel Beelzebub thing bc tbh I did kind of feel like it came out of nowhere which is really the only issue I have with them. I found this one scene where Beelzebub almost ?? seems to be concerned about Gabriel ?? But it’s blink and you miss it and there could be lots of other reasons why Beelzebub doesn’t want to fail in locating Gabriel (pressure from/leverage over heaven, etc) so idk
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More Foreshadowing Fly content 🪰
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Episode 4: So here we’ve seen that Shax can just appear inside the Bentley bc she did it earlier to talk to Crowley. Shax only pretended to be a hitchhiker so she could be invited in because Azirpahale was driving so technically she needed permission to cross the threshold of an angel 👀
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This scene will never not destroy me the 1941 flashback is the absolute sOFTEST thing ever to happen on this show
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We really need more context here I need to see the Crowley-Furfur Monkey Rides
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Episode 5: ahahaha thank you google translate for absolutely destroying my sanity this evening
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POP goes the Ziraphale
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Okay I know you can’t hear it in the gif but just before Nina takes Maggie’s hand, there’s a very quiet miracle noise, like Azirpahale literally MADE Nina dance with Maggie, he said I’m writing a Mina Jane-Austen-Ball-AU and my otp will KISS godDAMMIT
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Azirpahale seems lowkey kind of manic this whole scene tho, he’s controlling literally everyone to force Nina and Maggie together and whenever Crowley says anything that pokes holes in Aziraphale’s Magical Jane Austen Ball Fairytale, Aziraphale just straight up denies it. He wants Nina and Maggie to dance and he wants him and Crowley to dance and he refuses to acknowledge anything beyond that.
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Is this just Shax insulting Crowley for how much of a nuisance he’s been or a reference to his former status as an angel ???
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They’re both completely dismissive of each other when they’re trying to say something important and that’s the main issue they’ve been having this entire season tbh
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Episode 6: I think it’s funny that Crowley describes the angels as bees here because in the book, Neil/Terry describe humans the same way. Guess we have more in common than we thought huh?
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So the metatron was the one who originally decided Gabriel would be memory wiped and not sent to hell, and he was also the one that decided not to sound an alarm about Gabriel for some reason and said ‘just go find him yourself’ instead. The metatron has definitely got his own agenda and you can bet he doesn’t want Aziraphale up there in heaven because he’s a “leader” and he’s “honest” like that’s exactly what Gabriel was and look where it got him 👀
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There’s just something I can’t quite put my finger on about the metatron bringing Aziraphale a coffee from “give me coffee or give me death” and then asking Aziraphale if he’s going to take the coffee he’s giving him…
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I have not seen a single person talk about this since s2 came out but Nina literally calls Maggie “angel” because that’s the term of endearment they hear Crowley using for Aziraphale !!!! I’m still going fERAL over this and I can’t believe no one else is eitHER
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Something about this part of The Final Fifteen compared to this scene from the first episode is so representative of the entire season. Azirpahale keeps saying “my way or get out” and Crowley finally hits a wall and can follow Aziraphale no further. So he does just that. He goes.
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I’m sure a lot of us by now have seen this post that brings up how Aziraphale literally pushes the remains of Crowley into his mouth and swallows and it’s the only thing I see when I watch this now
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We still don’t know for certain if Crowley queued up this song to play on their way to the Ritz or if the Bentley started playing it all on its own and it’s driving me insane
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Basically how I am doing after my Truly-Alarming-Number-th watch of this traumatizing episode/season. WELP hope you enjoyed this garbage dump of my thoughts and feelings time to go cry for a bit again BYE
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ratsonastick · 2 months
Text
Shirt
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!reader
It’s been a few months since you two broke up, but that doesn’t mean you both still don’t love each other.
Warnings - small make out 😛
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It had been a few months since you and Clarisse had broken up. The two of you were getting into arguments, and at some point, you believed that maybe the two of you just didn’t mix, and were best separated.
And yet you still couldn’t help yourself wanting to see her again.
You found yourself one cold night sneaking into the Ares cabin (which was a risky business) but Clarisse taught you tricks.
You walked up the stairs of the cabin to the second floor where you saw a dimly lit room (let’s pretend some campers get their rooms for good reasons —- Clarisse’s reason is that she probably fought for it….)
You knocked on it gently waiting, and finally, it opened to reveal the curly head girl. “Y/n?”
“I can’t find my stuffed animal…” you thought of a lie. Clarisse knew that sounded wrong, you took great care of your animals. “A stuffed animal?”
You hummed softly and nodded your head. Clarisse sighed and shook her head, opening the door for you to step in. Even though you two are separated, Clarisse still has such a large soft spot for you.
You knew where you would’ve lost one … if you did. And that was in the crack between her bed and wall.
You started to look, stuffing your hand down and trying to feel for anything. When you did you gasped softly out of surprise. But when you pulled the item up it was simply a shirt. Your shirt.
“Hey! I thought you said you didn’t have this!” You frowned looking at Clarisse who seemed a bit embarrassed.
Your favorite shirt that had gone missing was here the whole time. You kept looking back and forth but then tossed the shirt onto the ground behind you, trying to continue your act.
Clarisse picked up the shirt and folded it, placing it behind her pillow hoping this went unnoticed by you.
After a few minutes she let out a soft laugh “Okay Y/n, you just look stupid.” She stood behind you, her hands itching to rest on your hips but instead, they fell to her side.
You sit up, your back hitting her stomach before you lean forward to create distance.
“Well luckily and unluckily I didn’t find my animal … so I guess I’ll just leave.”
But she paused your movements before you could get up from the bed “Just sit there for a moment.”
She turned around and walked to her closet, shuffling inside. You sat on her bed looking around the room you had been in endless amounts of times.
Then you noticed your shirt that was tucked under her pillow and you smiled.
Clarisse stood up and turned around with an animal that you didn’t even know was missing. Your mouth dropped.
“Is this what you wanted?” You nodded your head and reached your arms out to which she gave you the animal.
“If you knew it was there the whole time why did you make me go through that struggle?” You mumbled shyly, to such hehe just shrugged her shoulders.
“I had a good view,” she teased, which made you look down at your lap.
“I should get going.” You announced as you stood up from the bed.
“Or you could stay.” She mumbled as she leaned against her shelf, her arms crossed.
“Clar” you mumbled out her nickname “you know that’s a bad idea.”
She shrugged her shoulders “So is having a bunch of demigods run around fighting monsters, but you don’t see people complaining.”
“Yeah but … we broke up for a reason, I just don’t want to have to do it again.” You answered truthfully.
“Okay, so we don’t.” She spoke, her face serious as she walked closer. “Clarisse don’t do this … you know that’s not gonna work.”
“Then I’ll make it work … I’ll beg Aphrodite to help me … just like I begged her to help me get you in my room again.” She spoke softly, a small smirk on her face as her hands met your hips.
They dipped under your baggy shirt finding the small piece of skin she always liked to circle with her thumbs.
“Come on princess … I’ll make it worth your wild.” She spoke softly, moving her head slightly so she could try to meet your eyes.
Your skin was starting to turn warm, and she only brought you further towards her.
You dipped your head back and let out a soft groan, but only seconds later did you feel a soft pair of lips kissing your pulse point.
And that was it.
Your hands moved to tangle in her hair and she pulled you closer. And it wasn’t long till you were lying in her bed, her on top of you, hands exploring everything she missed.
While one hand was tangled in her hair, as she planted another fresh hickey on your neck, the other traveled to her pillow.
Where you once again felt your shirt, “Clar” you mumbled as you opened your eyes.
“Mhmm” she hummed softly, focusing on the middle of your neck while her hand traveled under your shirt.
“What’s with my shirt under your pillow?”
The question made her movements falter and she looked up at you. “It was the only thing left I had of you that still had your scent.”
“Aww, what a softie.”
“Shut up”
A/N - TAKING CHARACTER X READER REQUESTS!!
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navybrat817 · 7 months
Text
Sign the Dotted Line
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You discuss the terms with Estelle and wait the week before seeing Andy again. Word Count: Over 3.5k Warnings: Slow burn, reader is broke (is that a warning?), sugar daddy offer, tension, slight insecurities, inner monologue, Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics , Header - yours truly A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thanks!), but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You had a hard time relaxing after your meeting with Andy. You couldn’t put your finger on why you were wound up. The discussion went well, even better than you expected. Andy wasn’t pushy considering the power he wielded, but also wasn’t a pushover when you questioned him or offered alternatives. He conducted himself the way you needed him to, both professionally and personally. If he hadn’t, you’d have a much harder time going along with his contact.
So why am I so restless?
Estelle, once again reminding you why she was one of the best friends a girl could have, stopped by your place with wine and pizza. “You were not about to tell me over the phone what happened. Once I get this passed out, dish.”
Your friend was unusually quiet as you gave her the rundown of the meeting and terms you agreed to. It meant a lot that she listened, but you expected her to chime in once or twice with her opinion as she refilled your glasses of wine. Was she thinking carefully about what to say or did she not have anything to add?
“I have three questions for you,” she said, drumming her manicured nails along her glass. “First, why didn’t you accept his higher offer for more money each month?”
There it is.
“Because it was an excessive amount of money considering he’s going to pay my bills and rent, along with getting me a new wardrobe AND a personal driver. Unless I’m going out with you or our friends, it doesn’t sound like I’m going to pay for anything.”
Saying it out loud made you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Everything you had was because you worked for it. Soon, you wouldn't even work at the diner. To think the next nine months you wouldn’t work? It didn't sound real.
It didn't sound like you.
“All I'm saying is you could’ve used that extra money for savings,” she pointed out with a raise of her glass. “Or to stock up on wine.”
You snorted a bit, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m still going to put money aside for savings, but the amount he’s going to spend taking care of me? It’s a lot.”
“Doesn’t sound like it’s much to him if he agreed so easily.”
“It’s a lot to me,��� you said under your breath.
And I’m not about to take advantage of him.
Andy was going to take care of you like he promised. You had no doubt about that. The world he lived in, maybe it wouldn’t make much of a difference in his bank account to take on your debt for the next nine months. You weren’t going to push for more money when he was giving you the world and then some.
Estelle smiled into her glass. “I haven’t met the guy yet, but I think he likes you because you’re a good person. I mean, he wants you to have dinners with him so he can talk to you and to get to know you even more,” she said, leaning forward when you tried to look away. “Which brings me to my second question. How do you feel about the ‘no sex’ in the contract?”
Your stomach sank a bit, making you wonder if that was why you felt restless when you should’ve been happy. “Is it bad if I say it hurts my ego a little?”
It was irrational to have a bit of a bruised ego. Andy gave you an explanation as to why he didn’t add that clause and it made perfect sense. The fantasy that he wanted you still played out in your mind though. But what would wanting him lead you to? What did you have to offer him besides companionship?
“A little? Mine would’ve hurt a lot,” she joked, causing your face to fall more as your thoughts crushed you. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. Just because he doesn't have it in the contract doesn't mean he isn't attracted to you. Didn’t you say he complimented the dress, which we knew you looked hot in? And your smile?”
"He did,” you answered, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the wine. “But Andy is like a full course meal. What the hell am I?"
Estelle wadded up her napkin and threw it at your head, which you dodged. "So are you. If you don't believe me, at least consider yourself to be dessert or a fine wine," she said. You wouldn’t, but you weren’t about to tell her that. "And you know what? I respect the man a hell of a lot more for not adding anything sexual to the contract.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. You said if something happened, he wanted it to be natural or organic. He doesn’t want to take advantage of you. He wants to seduce you the old fashioned way. And I say let him. You can start by taking some of that money he gave you and buy some fancy lingerie.”
You finished your glasses, wondering what Andy liked. Did he like something simple and classic? What colors would get his attention? "I was going to pay you back for the dress and the shoes," you told her.
With a wrinkle of her nose, she snatched the bottle from the table "Those were a gift and I won't accept any money back," she said, pouring the rest of the wine into her glass. You figured that was what she'd say. "And because you offended me, no more wine for you."
"You’re the one who brought that bottle, so your rules," you reminded her as she shot you a look. "Okay, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have offered to pay you back for my present."
Estelle nodded after a moment. "Good. That's good practice for when Andy buys you something just because and you try to pay him back."
You refrained from rolling your eyes, but she had a point. You would probably try to pack him back whether he wanted it or not. "Is it really paying him back if it's with his own money?"
She pretended to think it over before laughing. "Probably not," she said as you stood up to take your glass to the sink. "Hey, I didn't ask my third question."
"Fire when ready."
"Do you really want to give it a week when you have your mind made up?"
Estelle knew you all too well. Even if you hadn't told her from the start that you planned to sign the contract, she would've figured it out. "The time frame was his call."
While it did give you time to think it through, surely he had to get things in order, too. Like your new place. God, you couldn't believe you were going to move into his building.
"You could ask him to move up the date? Worst thing he could say is 'no'."
Maybe.
"Yeah," you said, going to sit back down with a huff. "Are you sure you don't mind being in the know of this? And having to keep it under wraps?"
"Are you kidding? It's an honor you asked me," she said, holding her head high with such confidence you had to smile. "I got your back."
"Thanks, Estelle," you said.
She waved her hand dismissively, but had a smile on her face. "Don't mention it."
"Okay. Now enough about me," you smiled. "Tell me about your day."
"Well," she smirked, tilting her head as she paused dramatically. "I may have found a guy for Wendy."
Your eyes lit up, happy you asked. Wendy was another friend of yours who hadn’t dated in awhile. "Tell me everything."
You managed to keep your focus on Estelle as she told you about the gorgeous guy she met in a coffee shop who was just Wendy’s type. You wondered how different things would've been had you and Andy met that way. Would it change your story? Would you be where you were now?
Staring at your phone when Estelle went to use the bathroom, you debated whether or not to text Andy. You just saw him earlier today and he had a business dinner. How desperate would you look asking him to move the contract date up?
"Fuck it," you muttered, snatching the device and quickly typing out a message. Communication was key. Like honesty.
"I don't want to wait a week, but I understand if we have to. I hope your dinner went well."
“BOO!” You nearly dropped your phone when Estelle smacked the couch behind you. "You messaged him, didn't you?"
"Yeah," you giggled, holding your chest to calm your pounding heart. "Told him I didn't want to wait a week, but understood if we had to."
"Hopefully he listens. Well, he will if he wants to get in your pants."
"Stop," you giggled as your phone went off, holding your breath as you read the message.
"I'd rather have dinner with you. And I understand you don’t want to wait, but what was it you said about anticipation?"
Using anticipation against me.
"Fine, Daddy."
The three dots popped up immediately as he typed. "You're teasing me, honey."
"Maybe. I'll see you in a week."
“Looking forward to it, but one more thing I forgot to mention. I’d like a witness for the contract signing.”
"Are you two sexting?" Estelle asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
"No," you smiled.
Just called him 'Daddy'.
"But he's sticking it out for the week," you said, only a little disappointed. He did have to draw up a contract. “And we need a witness for the signing. I’d like it to be you.”
"Ooh. He's making you wait for it," she said, giving you a small smile. "Give me the time and date and I’ll be there."
“Thanks,” you smiled, sending Andy back a message. “Estelle volunteered.”
“Perfect.”
“One more week and he’s yours,” Estelle smiled.
"One more week."
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It really was the longest week of your life to wait to see Andy again, but today was the day.
Your heart beat fast as you and Estelle went into the building and went through the motions with the security guard. You half expected Irene to tell you Andy didn’t have an appointment with you as you made your way to the office. It was silly to think he’d back out, but your nerves were getting the better of you. And why?
Because you hadn’t heard from Andy. Not once. You kept looking at the door expectantly during your shifts at the diner, only to be met with disappointment when he didn’t show. You also didn’t want to admit how many times you checked your phone to see if he reached out. The man had more important things to do than visit or text you.
“Cheer up,” Estelle told you in the elevator. You felt bad. You were sulking and you didn’t try to hide it. Part of that scared you because why did it matter that he had gone radio silent?
“You don’t think he changed his mind, do you?”
“No. He’s just a busy man. Get out of your head.”
“I’m trying,” you sighed.
You led Estelle to the office, expecting to see Irene. All you saw was an empty desk. The light above her chair was off, too. The double doors were shut. Maybe it was a sign. This was too good to be true.
Andy was too good to be true.
“There you are,” you heard as the double doors opened.
“Holy shit,” Estelle breathed, almost making you elbow her.
“Andy,” you said, not quite smiling when you caught sight of him. He didn’t have a blazer on and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. “I was just-”
“Irene wasn’t feeling well, so I sent her home for the day. Come on in.”
“Can you give us a minute?” You asked your friend, who raised an eyebrow in response.
“Yeah. I’ll be here,” she said, taking a seat. Once Andy's back was turned, she mouthed, "Hot!"
Yeah, he is.
You clutched your bag a little tighter as you walked in, reminding yourself to breathe as Andy shut the door. “We’re still doing this?” You asked, your voice shaky.
“Of course, we are,” he said, pulling out the chair that you sat in a week before. “Why? Are you having second thoughts?”
“No. Truthfully, I thought you changed your mind.”
Andy paused before he took his seat. “I have no reason to back out. I offered and want this. I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word. I’m happy to prove that to you if you don’t believe me,” he said, carefully looking you over as blood rushed to your cheeks. “What made you think I’d change my mind?”
You shook your head. “It’s silly.”
“It isn’t silly to me,” he said, sweeping his gaze over you once again. “You’re stiff, honey, and you’re barely looking me in the eye. What’s going on? What do I need to do to put you at ease?”
You swallowed a little. “It was a long week to think it over and I hadn’t heard from you. Because of that, I wasn’t sure if you maybe decided to change your mind,” you explained, lifting your eyes to meet his. You were met with concern and care. “Silly, right?”
“No, it isn’t,” he assured you, sliding a small packet across the table to give you a chance to look at the top page. It was the contact. He really put it together. “May I explain?”
“Of course,” you whispered.
He surprised you by moving his chair around the table so he was beside you instead of across from you. “First, I’m sorry my silence caused any doubt. That wasn’t my intention. I only wanted to give you time to think things through,” he said, his tone gentle as he tapped the contract with his finger. “Would I have this here if I wanted to change my mind?”
“No, I don’t think,” you said, feeling a bit small.
“Second,” he said, a small smile on his face as he took out his phone. “I was the last one to message you. Maybe I didn’t want to bombard you between work.”
You stared at his phone and realized he was right. The last thing he sent was “Perfect.” regarding Estelle was your witness. You never said anything else. God, you were an idiot.
“So you were waiting to hear back from me?” You tried to tease as his smile widened. It was a handsome look. “Okay. So. I may have let my nerves get the better of me. I’m sorry. I just really want this to work.”
It took a lot for you to say that, but there was no judgment from him as he placed his hand over yours.
“So do I, honey,” he said in a low voice. “For the record, you can message me whenever you want. It won’t bother me.”
“Ditto,” you said before you cringed.
Ditto? Really? So eloquent.
He chuckled as he handed you a pen, leaning in a bit closer and giving you a chance to catch that cologne of his you loved. You’d never be able to smell it again without thinking of him. “As long as you’re okay and ready, would you like to start?”
“Yes, I would,” you smiled, sparing him another glance. “Thank you, Andy.”
He didn’t have to put you at ease. He could’ve easily laughed you off as sounding clingy or desperate, but he soothed your nerves. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from an ex-lawyer and, what you believed to be, a good man.
“Of course,” he said, going to the door to get Estelle. “Come in. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” she said, smiling as she shook Andy’s hand. “Heard a lot about you.”
A pange of jealousy settled in your chest when Andy chuckled, making you look away. Estelle was the kind of woman Andy should be with. She belonged in his world. But she wouldn’t do anything. She was a good friend and knew you were at the very least attached to Andy.
I need to get a grip.
You had no idea why the voice in your head was being so cruel to you. First the assumption about Andy backing out and now this. It needed to stop.
“I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to be here. I realize there are some stigmas when it comes to contracts, so I want you to know I have her best interest at heart.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Estelle asked, winking at you as she sat down and squashing those nerves once more.
“I also have an NDA for you to sign,” Andy added as he took a seat again beside you and leveled your friend with a look. “I don’t really care what people say about me if word gets out. It won't make a difference. I won’t, however, have them slander her. So I’m trusting you to protect her.”
Estelle’s eyebrows shot up as did yours. Andy’s reputation meant a lot more than yours, yet it was you he was worried about. “You are so authoritative and bossy. No wonder you're in charge,” she said, grabbing a pen for herself. "I'll sign whatever you put in front of me."
“Okay then,” Andy smiled, tilting the paper so both of you could look together. “Let’s get started.”
Andy carefully read over each section, giving both you and Estelle a chance to object or stop him. Everything discussed was accounted for. The length of the contract, job, living arrangements, expenses, travel, he had it all. No red flags jumped out. Nothing of concern. You saw no reason to object when he stated everything as agreed.
“Any questions?” He asked, like he had after every portion.
“Back to the living arrangements,” Estelle said, pointing her pen at him. “I want to be there when she moves in.”
“You do?” You questioned with a look. “You hate moving.”
“Oh, I don’t plan on doing any of the heavy lifting,” she teased. She usually paid people for that. “But I insist on seeing your building and where she’s going to live. I may ask to see your place, too.”
His place? Why?
Andy appeared surprised by the request as well. “My place? Is that necessary?”
“If you plan on having her there, yes. I want to make sure it’s safe. I get that she’s your sugar baby once she signs the dotted line, but she’s my best friend. She was before she met you and she will be once this contract ends. You want to protect her? So do I.”
Andy hummed thoughtfully. “What do you think?” he asked you.
You would feel more comfortable with someone you trusted there. Not that you didn't trust Andy, but the situation wasn't normal and you understood Estelle’s insistence. Still, seeing his place? Was she being a bit nosy? Was she curious about the man?
She's looking out for me.
“I think that’s fine, all things considered,” you replied.
“Okay. You’ll be there when she moves in and you’re welcome to see my place,” Andy agreed.
“With me there,” you added. She had no reason to see Andy’s place all by herself.
“Duh,” Estelle smiled with a wave of her hand. “Proceed.”
Minutes later, Andy finished and signed the document when you didn't raise any concerns. He slid the last page in your direction and your hand trembled a bit as you went to sign. You caught a look of worry on Estelle’s face when you hesitated. You were so close.
“Honey?” Andy asked so softly you almost missed it.
“I said I’d take care of you and I’m a man of my word.”
With an exhale, you signed your name. This was it. For the next nine months, you’d belong to Andy. Well, in some ways.
Andy’s smile warmed your heart as he passed the sheet to Estelle. Her smile was bright enough to light up the room as she signed. She was thrilled for you.
And you allowed yourself to feel happy, too.
“You’re officially a sugar baby!” Estelle said, quickly signing the NDA as you and Andy exchanged a look. You wished you knew what he was thinking. “We need to celebrate.”
Andy cleared his throat. “Actually, I was kind of hoping I could steal her away for a bit after I make her a copy of this.”
“You were?” You and Estelle asked in unison.
“Yeah,” he smiled as he got to his feet. He practically towered over you where you sat. “I want to take you to the diner myself so you can turn in your notice. What do you say?”
You smiled as Estelle clapped her hands together. “Let’s go.”
After that, you could celebrate the next chapter in your life.
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It's official! Here we go! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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marlenesluv · 5 months
Text
Rule Breaker (CS)
summary: charles has one rule for you, don’t date his teammate. he doesn’t want his little sister infringing, but both you and carlos can’t help falling for each other. so what harm does a little soft launch do? well, a failed soft launch. (side note: carlos watches game of thrones and i love game of thrones, so there’s some content like that in here as well.)
type: smau + dialogue
pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc!fem!reader (7 yr age gap. reader is 22, carlos is 29.)
warnings: cussing
fc: anaïs (_ssiana on insta)
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
Being the youngest Leclerc sibling came with its benefits. Like being able to watch your brothers race, meeting lovely fans, having your own amazing fans, and getting to travel across the world. Opportunities were endless for you. Magazines wanted photo shoots, people wanted interviews, you were lucky really.
The only con? Having to look at Carlos Sainz Jr. every day, and not be able to do anything about your crush.
When Carlos joined Charles in Ferrari in 2021, Charles made a point to forbid you from dating him, just like Arthur did with his friends. Which you figured was fine, until you met Carlos.
He was such a gentleman, pulling your chair out for you, getting you a drink when you wanted one, making sure you were comfortable in the paddock, and making sure your headphones felt good before races.
Carlos experienced something very similar. Charles took him aside an hour before he was to meet you, and told him that you were off limits. He didn’t want a relationship with his younger sister to ruin such a good team, god forbid the relationship be messy and end horribly.
But lucky for you and Carlos, your relationship was perfect. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. That was until you were spotted together at dinner after his win in Singapore. People couldn’t fathom what was going on. The ‘young, innocent, law degree leclerc’ dating Carlos Sainz? Her brothers teammate??
Arthur had his suspicions. The way that you were on your phone at family dinners, smiling and blushing, was enough of a sign for him. Charles, oblivious as always, had no idea. And Arthur wasn’t a snitch, you got yourself in this, you could deal with Charles on your own.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After about three months of privately dating, that article came out. So, you both decided to soft launch your relationship. Surely Charles couldn’t be all that mad. Carlos knew from the first time he met you, that he wanted to spend his life with you. Cliché? Sure. But your demeanor, sarcasm, kindness, and the way you held yourself was enough to make him want to drop to his knees.
“Do you think I should post this?” you asked Carlos, showing him a picture of the two of you, but not noticeably him.
“Yeah, you can’t even tell it’s me.” Carlos looked at you, head on his chest so he could see your phone.
Post-sex cuddles were very important, you even said ‘I need them to survive. Don’t laugh at me!’ They were intimate, yet sweet and calming.
“Okay. I’m gonna post it with these other two…” you typed a caption and posted it, groaning in Carlos’ sheets as he laughed, running his fingers through your hair.
“It’ll be okay, amor.” he kissed your temple, both of you falling back to your cuddles as you drifted to sleep as your post got attention.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: charles_leclerc, carla.brocker, and 576,024 others
y/n_leclerc: nom nom
view comments…
charles_leclerc: who is that in the second photo, y/n?
↳ y/n_leclerc: what second photo?
↳ charles_leclerc: don’t gaslight me
f1updates: she slays, again, as always
lilymhe: prettiest girl ever
↳ y/n_leclerc: that’s you tho??
user6: who tfffff is that man?!?!
y/n.fan624: is that like…her new bf? you mean to tell me….i don’t have a chance anymore???
↳ y/nseditfan7; i don’t think any of us ever had a chance :/
cs55edits: that looks like the sainz vacation home, no?
↳ user2: oh my gosh.
yourbsf: pizza looks so good (so do you)
↳ y/n_leclerc: it was so good (thx, you always look good)
user7: you guys smell that? its a soft launch
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Soft launching was a good idea, in theory. You both thought it was the perfect way to announce your relationship, but not with Charles calling you every ten minutes and blowing up your messages to find out who the guy was in your photo on Instagram.
You sighed as your phone started ringing for the eighth time during this Game of Thrones episode. You and Carlos sat by each other, watching your show. Game of Thrones time, was your guys’ time to disconnect, not be on your phones, and enjoy the show and each other. Not a time to deal with a protective older brother.
Looking down at your phone, you saw the picture of you and Charles as he called again, “I should probably just answer. He’s not gonna stop until I answer.” Carlos got up, gave you a kiss and started walking to the kitchen, “Answer him, hermosa. I’ll go get more wine.” As Carlos went to the kitchen, your thumb hit the ‘accept’ button and you put your phone up to your ear.
“Pourquoi ne m'as-tu pas répondu ? Je pensais que tu étais mort ou quelque chose comme ça ! Qu'est-ce que c'est, y/n ?!”(why have you not been answering me? i thought you died or something! what the hell, y/n?!) Charles was shouting through the phone, you could tell he was worried and pissed at the same time.
“Je suis désolé, Charles. J'étais occupé. What’s up?” (i’m sorry, charles. i was busy.)
Charles sighed on the other side of the phone as he sat down at his barstool in his kitchen, “Please, just tell me who this guy is. I wont get mad, I swear. I don’t even care who it is, I just want to make sure he’s a good guy.”
Carlos made eye contact with you as he sat down beside you, whispering “If you want to tell him, you can, amor.” You nodded, taking a deep breath, “Carlos.” You said. One word. One name that brought fear through Charles. Carlos?! His teammate.
“What do you mean ‘Carlos’?” Charles asked, his voice suddenly too calm. “Carlos….I’m dating Carlos.” you stared at Carlos as he went wide eyed, Charles silent on the other line.
“Charles? Are you there?” you heard shuffling, Carlos handing you your wine as Charles cleared his throat.
“Okay. Um…alright. I gotta go, Y/N. Love you.” Charles hung up, leaving you staring at the glass in your hands.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Carlos asked you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, “He didn’t really say anything when I told him. Just ‘Okay, alright, I gotta go, Love you.’ and then hung up.”
Carlos sucked his lips in, placing his hand on your neck, making you lean into his touch. You fell back into his sofa, clinging to his side, Carlos turning Game of Thrones back on and pulling the blanket over you two.
He wasn’t sure what it would take to convince Charles that this wasn’t a fling. But he would try everything.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n_leclerc, landonorris, and 834,231 others
carlossainz55: I’m not very good at soft launches, anyway
view comments…
y/n_leclerc: no, no you are not, mon amour
↳ carlossainz55: oops 💗
chili55: y/n: “let’s soft launch!” carlos: “how about no.”
y/neditsss551: WOAAHHHHHH
landonorris: mom and dad
↳ y/n_leclerc: landoooo
char16car55: where’s charles😭
↳ f1fan: look around everybody on mute 🤫🤐
carlando554fp: my fav leclerc😪 she’s so prettyyyy
user4: AWOOGA I LOVE THE LECLERCS
arthur_leclerc: nice to see my suspicions have been confirmed
↳ charles_leclerc: you had suspicions?
↳ lorenzotl: um..what’s going on
user8: leclerc brothers protective and confused mode LOL
f1wags: ooooo new wag, yet one we already know we all love and adore
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After Carlos’ post, you freaked out. Of course, he asked you first, and double checked, and triple checked. You wanted everyone to know that you guys were dating. The only worry was ‘what would Charles do/think’?
Both of you had talked to Charles since the call a few days ago. Charles asked Carlos when he wanted to train again, and Charles checked on you everyday.
Arthur didn’t care. He was worried, at first. He thought maybe Carlos wouldn’t treat you like a princess, like you deserved to be treated. Carla told Arthur that you couldn’t have a better boyfriend.
When Carlos posted, Carla called you immediately, asking for details. Like when you started dating, the first date, did Charles know? And you trusted Carla with your life. The girl knew how to listen, too.
Lorenzo wasn’t too bothered. He knew Carlos, knew he was a good guy, and accepted it fairly fast. He also wanted you to be treated well, it’s what you deserved.
Charles wanted the same thing. He looked out for you the most. The guys you dated had to pass a test in Charles’ books. They needed to be kind, funny, honest, loyal, a gentleman, a family guy, good goals, and they needed to love you. And Charles ticked all of those off when he saw that post. He knew Carlos more than a lot of people.
Carlos was kind, loyal, and honest. He never lied to Charles, never broke a promise, and was kind to everyone. The man was also quite funny. He knew he could be a gentleman, he saw him with his last girlfriend three years ago. Carlos was a huge family guy, and had good goals. And obviously, he loved you. Charles decided he had no reason to be mad. You two were in love, and he needed to accept that.
When you called him, you were nervous. Carlos had went out for his morning run, which you usually joined him on. But you wanted to talk to Charles. It only rang three times before he picked up.
“Hello?” your brother groggy voice came through your phone speaker, which was sat on the counter as you made coffee.
“Hey. Can you talk for a minute?” stirring your coffee, you picked up your phone to hold in one hand.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Are you mad at me? For dating Carlos? Because we aren’t breaking up if you are. You’re just going to have to deal with it! Charles, I love him more than anyone-“ Charles cut off your rambling.
“Y/N, stop. I’m not mad. Its okay.” he sat up in his bed, looking at the time- 5am? You called him at 5am? “Wait, it’s 5am. Why are you even up??”
“Oh, Carlos and I have been getting up every morning at 4:30am to run and workout together.” you took a sip of your coffee, “I skipped today to call you, through.”
“Wow. He’s already rubbing off his good habits.” Charles smiled, happy that you were happy.
“Yeah…you’re okay with this, though?” you asked, setting your cup down.
“Of course. I’m sorry about the other day. I was just startled.” he apologized, he really did feel bad. He didn’t intend to be rude and freak you out.
“It’s okay. Thank you for being okay with this. I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“Great, I need my eight hours. Night, Y/N,” Charles yawned, making you laugh a bit. “Night? Love you.” Charles muttered an ‘I love you’ back and hung up.
No need to worry about that anymore, you thought. Carlos walking in the front door, and by your smile, he didn’t even need to ask. Charles obviously didn’t mind.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 593,204 others
y/n_leclerc: my game of thrones watching buddy <3
view comments…
carlossainz55: hold the door
↳ y/n_leclerc: hodor :(
user3: oooo its official guys, the carlos bf content is here
charles_leclerc: didnt need to see this
↳ arthur_leclerc: did any of us?
↳ lorenzotl: no.
↳ y/n_leclerc: you guys are soo dramatic. shut up
lilymhe: awww you guys are adorableee
↳ y/n_leclerc: me when i see you and alex
f1wags: carlos is boyfriending so hard
landonorris: WHIPPED
↳ carlossainz55: have you seen her? had a conversation with her? of course i’m whipped
↳ y/n_leclerc: 🥹🫠
ferraribabe: the way he’s so sweet stopppp
yourbsf: holy shitttt, you guys are THE couple
*liked by creator*
user8: wowowowow too cute
formula1updates: new favorite couple - unlocked
user1: a couple that watches game of thrones together, stays together
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 601,138 others
y/n_leclerc: muy guapo, papi🖤🤍
view comments…
user3: PAPI???? Y/N PLS
carlossainz55: she’ll never know guys, shhhhh
↳ charles_leclerc: but i do
↳ carlossainz55: it was a joke…
↳ charles_leclerc: i’m pushing you off the track this weekend.
f1wags: they way they look at each other🥹 (THE CAPTION????)
user5: oh…ok!
arthur_leclerc: cant wait to hit a spaniard this weekend
↳ carlossainz55: dios mío. cállate
↳ lorenzotl: we know spanish, carlos
↳ y/n_leclerc: i hate my family sometimes (not mom tho)
↳ leclerc_pascale: ❤️
leclercsfp16: my fav family
y/n.editingggg: adorbssss but girl the caption??
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
your instagram story:
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seen by: carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, and 578,014 others
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seen by: carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and 532,103 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 1,238,014 others
carlossainz55: “you are the moon of my life” ❤️
view comments…
y/n_leclerc: did you j khal drogo quote drop
↳ carlossainz55: i thought it would be cute :(
↳ y/n_leclerc: it was so cute <3
↳ carlossainz55: :))
f1ygotedits: my two favs: carlos and got 😋
user5: the way they make me want to sob bec they’re so cute
verstoppan1fp: their pics >
vroom34: my fav game of thrones lovers
thenightwatch99: the way he khal drogo quoted
user3: mama y papa 😪👏
f1editpage: can’t wait to see her with carlos merch
↳ char16pg: charles is gonna be mad lollll
formula1page33: they’re soo cute🥹🥹🥹🥹
charles_leclerc: cant believe im the only single sibling now
↳ arthur_leclerc: i can
↳ charles_leclerc: 😦
user8: awwww the cutest shut upppp
y/nandcarlosfp55: ARG SO CUTE
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
your instagram story:
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seen by: carlossainz55, landonorris, and 548,024 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 929,820 others
carlossainz55: i took an amazing, photographer photo of her, and she took this monstrosity one of me??
view comments…
y/n_leclerc: no, amor. you look so handsome
↳ pierregasly: why are you lying to him?
↳ carlossainz55: you are a dick, pierre
↳ pierregasly: 🫨good one
user3: LOL I LOVE THIS
f1wags: our fav wag photographer!!
formula1wc: carlos is turning his instagram in to a y/n fan account
chilipepper55: michael phelps WHO⁉️we only know our olympic swimmer carlos the mermaid sainz!!!
carmenmmundt: y/n looks so elegant
↳ carlossainz55: and me?
↳ carmenmmundt: 😬
landonorris: bro rly said 🧜‍♂️😟
user1: merm-couple
f1memes: the third pic is so cute. HELLO?!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
1K notes · View notes
grandlinedreams · 6 months
Text
[heads up!: cursing, brief mention of implied abuse (not from Zoro)]
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“Just shut up, damn it! Go find someone else to pester instead of bugging me!”
He doesn’t mean it. The moment the words slip from his lips, he knows he’s going to regret it – especially since it’s born out of irritation over something that’s far from your fault. Training had not been going the way he wanted. Most recent injuries still healing, the stubborn, persistent ache of his body had steadily pushed him into a darker and darker mood.
And then you had come up to ask him a question – if he’d wanted something to drink, something to eat – and then the question that’d tipped him over the edge. “Shouldn’t you be resting instead of trying to train? I don’t think it’d be good for you to reopen something…”
And he’d snapped, eye blazing with fury as he jerked his arm out of your reach. 
You freeze, arm dropping back to your side. He expects you to lash out, fire back – you know how to hold your ground, and he’s been a front-row witness to how sharp of a tongue you have when you’re (rightfully) pissed. 
But you don’t. 
Instead, your expression goes blank and you turn, slipping back down from the observation deck. In the absence of words, the hard click of your descent offers a finality that makes a chill slide down his spine.
He knows he should apologize, but pride is a difficult thing to swallow – especially when he knows he’s at fault for this. So he stays put, shoving down guilt in favor of resuming his training and pointedly ignoring the protest of his bandaged wounds. 
By the time he comes down for dinner, Zoro is in a far better mood than he’d started with – he’s finally managed to get where he wants to with training, and his injuries have eased from persistent ache to a dull throb that he can tune out. 
Entering the dining room and spotting you in your usual seat with the standard empty one beside you for him, he moves to take his seat – only to watch as you get to your feet and leave the table entirely. 
“Where are you going? Are you feeling okay?” Nami’s the one to ask, just as confused by your abrupt behavior as Zoro is. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, turning to give the navigator a reassuring smile. “Just remembered I wanted to watch the sunset, that’s all.”
 Zoro watches you go, wondering if he’s forgotten some agreement the two of you’d made beforehand – and turns to find Nami staring at him. He frowns, already on the defensive. “What?”
“What did you do now?” Her tone is accusing, her eyes narrowing as Zoro’s temper flares once more.
“Why are you assuming I did something?” 
Nami folds her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re not the most perceptive person around when it comes to anything but fighting,” she points out and he bristles, even though he knows she’s right. “Think, Zoro. I’m sure you should apologize for something.”
“No, I–” He halts. He does have something to apologize for, doesn’t he – how he’d yelled at you, the look you’d given him before turning and leaving. It’s clear that you’re still upset about that, and while he doesn’t blame you, like hell he’s going to admit that he did do something to Nami or anyone else. “Whatever. I’m leaving too.”
He gets to his feet and moves in the direction you’d gone, ignoring the mutter of what sounds suspiciously like “idiot” from behind him in favor of searching for you. True to your word, you’re up towards the bow of the Sunny, arms folded on the railing as you stare out at the ocean. 
Apologize. It's easy, in theory ㅡ to say "I'm sorry" and wait for you to respond if you forgive him or not. And yet he can't quite shape the words, settling for the next best thing.
Pretending nothing happened.
"Dinner's gonna go cold," he says as he approaches, and he doesn't miss the way you stiffen at the sound of his voice, but otherwise ignore him. "Want me to bring it out to you?" You don’t answer, and he can’t help the flare of frustration. Are you really going to ignore him like this? “Not talking to me now?"
Your hands curl against the railing. You've been trying your best not to think about earlier, the unpleasant memories it'd unearthed ㅡ and the fact that Zoro wants you to pretend like nothing happened only furthers the sour taste in your mouth.
'He isn't like that,' you tell yourself firmly. He has a hair-trigger temper that sparks over some of the dumbest things from time to time (especially where Sanji is involved), but it fizzles out quickly. 
But you know the consequences of anger behind closed doors, away from prying eyes and ears ㅡ fingers brush your shoulder and adrenaline floods your veins, ripping you out of your unpleasant reverie as you jerk away, fixing Zoro with wide, frightened eyes. “Don’t touch me!”
Your voice isn’t loud enough to be heard by anyone else, but it still startles Zoro all the same – for the vehemence in your tone and the look that you’re giving him, like you’re afraid of him, that he’s going to – realization hits him harder than any enemy ever could.
Oh. Shit.
Of course you’d reacted the way you had earlier when he yelled at you, jerked so harshly away from you, arm raised as though he – he feels sick. How could he have forgotten? He knows he’d never do that to you, would never dream of it – but it hardly matters when he’d offered a blow of a different kind, just as devastating. 
Apologize. He isn't even sure if that’ll fix the damage done now, but he can’t stand the idea of you being afraid of him. Shrinking at his voice, flinching any time he moves near you – he takes a step towards where you’re crouched now, trying to calm the panicked rhythm of your breathing.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and though he wants to touch you, he resists. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you earlier. It wasn’t anything you did, I was in a bad mood and…that’s no excuse to raise my voice at you.”
You’re shaking. It’s minute, but he can still see the tremble of your limbs and it only drives the knife deeper, knowing he’s the one to blame for this – and then you’re lurching towards him, a choked yelp coming from him as he struggles to steady both of you. “Hey–”
“Idiot,” you whisper, hiding your face against his shoulder. “You’re an absolute moron, Roronoa Zoro.” 
“I know.” Tentatively, he brings a hand up, cups the back of your head. “But I’m your moron, right? Your favorite idiot?” 
Your hands fist into his shirt. “Unfortunately, yeah.” He hums, adjusting to hold you closer as your breathing slows into a steadier cadence. “Zoro. I don’t want you to think this means I’ve forgiven you.” You can feel him still against you, and you lift your face from his shoulder to look at him properly. “The next time you raise your voice at me like that–”
“There won’t be a next time,” he tells you firmly, conviction clear in his tone. “It won’t happen again.” 
“Promise?”
His hand drifts from your hair to cup your cheek, relieved that you lean into his touch now. “I promise.”
759 notes · View notes
smeddiemunson · 7 months
Text
No Upside Down AU + a platonic Stobin sleepover + buckingham and steddie referenced.
“So?” Robin asked. 
Steve sucked his teeth. “Robin, we’ve only just started the sleepover, I’m not telling you yet!” 
“I’m in my pyjamas! We have a movie on, we have popcorn! We built a blanket fort!” Robin pointed to each thing in turn as if to remind Steve that he knew exactly how long she had been waiting already. “If you make me wait any longer, I’ll kill you.” 
Steve snorted. It was the most empty threat he’d ever heard in his life. If he died, by Robin’s hand or otherwise, she would follow him soon after. They were soul bonded at this point; one couldn’t exist without the other.
“Alright.” Robin slapped at his arm excitedly. “Alright! Stop hitting me!” 
Robin stopped hitting him but left her hands on his arm, fingers pressing, urging against his skin. 
“It was good.”
“Steve!” Robin moaned, throwing herself back against the pillows in truly dramatic fashion. “You can’t just give me that! I want all the details!”
“I don’t know, Rob!” Steve cried back. “I had fun. He’s really funny and sweet, and...” Steve bit his lip as a blush spread across his cheeks. 
Robin picked up on it like a bloodhound. “At least tell me what film you watched?” 
Steve turned his face away from her, focusing too intently on the movie. “I don’t really remember,” he mumbled. 
Robin squealed. “Steven Harrington, you sly dog! I knew there were details!” 
Steve rolled his eyes. “He had all these blankets and pillows in the back of his van, and he put fairly lights up, and we kinda couldn’t see the screen because we had to park further away for obvious reasons. But-“ Steve took a deep breath, then rushed out, “It might have been the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
“Eddie Munson, a romantic. Who would’ve thought? Certainly not me!”
Steve shoved at her.
“Well don’t stop there! I want the details!”
Steve groaned. “Do you really want the details?” 
“Of course I do! If I can’t have my gay romance, then I want to live through yours!” 
Steve lifted his arm to tuck Robin underneath it and pull her into his chest. He ignored the way she tried to struggle away. “You could still have your gay romance, Birdie. You just have to tell her.” 
“You don’t know that!” Robin replied as she was finally able to get her arms free enough to push away from Steve. 
“She’s friends with Eddie,” Steve reminded her. That should be all Robin needed to know to explain anything about former Queen of Hawkins High, Chrissy Cunningham. 
Robin slapped at him. “Just because she’s friends with a gay person doesn’t mean she is gay, dingus. That’s not how it works!” 
Steve easily batted her hands away with a chuckle. “That’s how it worked with me!” 
Robin groaned. 
“I’m just saying, I would never have thought about being bi if you hadn’t said anything about being a lesbian. Maybe Chrissy is the same!” 
Robin buried her face into her hands. “Okay,” She said, though it was muffled by her hands so much that Steve pulled them away from her face and kept her wrists in his hands.
“Okay. Say, by some miracle, she likes girls, what’s to say that she would like me?”
Steve made a noise of disagreement. “First of all, she would be crazy to not like you because you are amazing and beautiful and the bravest person I’ve ever met—” 
Robin rolled her eyes but Steve merely rolled his back, shook her hands a little and carried on. They’d had this exact conversation before and Steve didn’t feel like retracing it because there were more important things to get to.
“But I am almost certain she does like you back. She definitely flirts with you all the time.”
“No she does not.”
“I think I know more about girls flirting that you do, Robin.”
“Why? Because you turn into a little school girl around Eddie and do the same thing?” 
“No,” Steve said, though he did so through a blush that did nothing to defend him from the accusation. “I know because girls always flirt with me.” 
“Oh shut up.” 
“They do!” Steve finally let go of Robin’s wrists so he could push a frustrated hand through his hair— already floppy from his shower and lack of product. “They do and I know Chrissy is doing it to you.”
“Prove it.”
Steve grinned and began listing off his points on his fingers. “She always laughs at your jokes. She twirls her hair whenever she talks to you. She asked you to explain that fucking French movie you forced us to watch the other week and she listened.”
Robin whacked him again. “You told me you liked that film!”
“I fell asleep! Of course I liked it.” Steve huffed. “Do you need me to keep going about Chrissy?”
“Maybe not,” Robin muttered. Then she squarked as Steve scrambled over her and out of their blanket fort to where the phone was hooked into the wall. “What are you doing?” 
Steve just grinned as he quickly clicked some numbers on the keypad. 
Robin watched in confusion from her spot on the floor.
“Hello, this is Steven Harrington. I was wondering if I could speak to Chrissy?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Thank you, Ma’am.” 
Robin’s face turned white in a second. She scrambled to her feet, losing them under herself a couple of times, but she couldn’t reach Steve to slam the phone down for him before he started speaking again. 
“Hi Chrissy, I have Robin here.” He thrust the phone at her chest, not giving Chrissy time to answer and mouthed, ask her. 
Robin glared, hoping that Steve would let it go. But he was as stubborn as she was and Chrissy’s confused call of Robin meant she wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than him this time. She would get her revenge, he was sure of it.
“Chrissy. Hi. How’s things?” Robin stumbled when she finally put the phone up to her ear. She didn’t stop glaring at Steve though. 
Steve only smiled in triumph.
“Yeah, I’m good. It’s good. Yeah.” 
Steve jabbed Robin in the side to stop her from talking herself in circles. He gestured with his hands for her to get on with it. 
“So, my reason for calling, and just, you know, stop me if this is at all weird and you don’t wanna hear it or if i’ve got the wrong idea. it’s Steve’s fault really--” He jabbed her again and pouted when she managed to land a meaty smack against his ribs. But it did get her to blurt out, “Do you wanna go to Benny’s with me? On Friday? As, like, a date?” 
Steve pumped his fist in the air. It may not have been the way he would have asked a girl out, but Robin had done it!
“Awesome. Yeah. Great. I’ll see you Friday then. I’ll pick you up. No, I won’t I can’t drive. Steve will drive us. But I’ll see you Friday? Yeah. Cool. Awesome. Bye Chrissy.” 
Robin handed him the phone in a daze, eyes following his hand as he hooked it back on the wall. 
“What the fuck?” She breathed. 
“I think you just got yourself a date with a hot girl, Robin.” 
657 notes · View notes
its-your-mind · 4 months
Text
Some Thoughts on the importance of physical touch and connection for the Hells: A reflection on the new animated intro.
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In general, I think the Hells are a really strange and special group, especially for a dnd party. They pretty much laid all their baggage on the table within the first week of meeting each other (What the Fuck is Up With That?) almost as a litmus test: "hey, here's all the shit that comes with being me, last chance to run away if that's too much."
and none of them did. and they all kept choosing to stay, even as shit got even weirder and more and more disturbing answers came to light. I think that continued choice from all of them - to stay - is what makes the bonds between the Hells so deep and so special.
okay trauma analysis and party dynamics is a DIFFERENT POST but it was all RELEVANT INTRODUCTION bc the CHOOSING TO STAY and the KNOWING EACH OTHERS' SHIT are like. key components to understanding why I am so feral about this. okay hopefully you will understand. the body of my essay is below. it has pictures. it got... too long. so. it went under a read more. yw. anyway click below if you want a very detailed analysis of an animated intro that is literally only one minute and thirty seconds long
For the first bit, character intros for Fearne, Orym, Imogen, Ashton, there’s no physical contact.
BUT. First intro of hells as a team. Ashton Trauma Flashback interrupted by laudna approaching slowly from beside him with her hand gently in front of him to signal her presence without startling him, and THEN just talking at them. Bringing him out of those flashbacks. Reminding him where he is and who he’s with.
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And tbh? For Ashton? Touch is always iffy, so this is almost a more understanding and kind way to bring them out of the flashback. Just physical presence is good! UNLESS. (unless) first actual touch. Fearne stealing their coin purse, so gently that they don’t even notice it (FLIRTING THROUGH THEFT callowmoore my beloved)
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(also grabbed the cap that shows her with his coinpurse these fucking ANIMATORS)
okay pt 2 FLYING OFF THE AIRSHIP
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Ashton's first instinct and priority is grab laudna’s hand bc he KNOWS she is made of paper mache and he is ALWAYS watching out for her out of the corner of his eye bc she is breakable and he’s not gonna let her break bc he KNOWS what it’s like to be breakable and need someone to catch you when you’re falling but ANYWAY. he grabs her he uses his hammer as a fulcrum to throw her at Imogen
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because OF COURSE he knows that the safest and most comfortable space for laudna is in imogen’s arms. and the two of them wrap their arms around each other and hold tight Superman style bc ofc they do and once laudna is in imogen’s arms she’s absolutely delighted by this whole situation bc OFC SHE IS
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(tf do you mean I can’t add more than ten images on mobile UGH fine I’ll finish writing then draft and move to PC the images are IMPORTANT TO MY POINT anyway insert lesbians here) (note from future mind: I have decided that these pic descriptions i left for myself to grab the right images are fucking hilarious so they’re staying in yw)
Then fearne (who had been on her way in that direction already) swoops under Ashton to catch him as he flips over from the momentum so he can land on her giant bird back and she can fly him away.
(Pics: It’s fine to touch Ash if you’re saving their life)
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(also not pictured: chet staying on the ship but losing his hat, orym grabbing it out of the air, imogen casting fly on fcg right before she catches laudna, fcg flying over to grab orym) All of this happens in six seconds by the way. One round of combat. These animators are fucking incredible.
BACK TO CHARACTER INTROS laudna who is ofc alone and in the dark at the bottom of the Sun tree, reliving her past…
(Pic: sad lonely laudna)
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right up until Imogen puts her head on her shoulder, and the darkness burns away into light. She doesn’t say anything, or talk with laudna - all it takes is that physical reminder that she’s not alone anymore, that there is warmth, that she is surrounded by a family who loves her so much they chose to turn down comfortable beds in a lord’s manor so that they could join her in sleeping at the bottom of the Sun Tree. (Fav lil detail - fearne wrapped around Orym like he’s a teddy bear, and holding tight to laudna’s blanket to make sure she can’t go anywhere.)
(Pics: THE POWER OF LESBIANS AND FOUND FAMILY)
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fcg. Fuck. Starts with their flashback, with their red eyes and their buzzsaw, but almost immediately we see Ashton reach out to grab their shoulder and Orym whip out a vine to tie up their saw.
(pics: reaching out even if it might hurt youuuuu)
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Imogen goes on her knees and wraps her arms around FCG’s other side, and the rest of them all gather around him, holding him to keep him and each other safe, but mostly just grounding him in the present by surrounding him physically until the flashback fades and he’s once more aware of his surroundings.
(Pics: what the fuck they just need to be held)
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(once shit has calmed down fearne uses this opportunity to pick Ashton’s pocket again. Flirting through theft).
(Pic: fearne is a menace to society)
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final fight scene. fuck yes.
(Pic: IT’S THURSDAY NIIIIIIIIIIIGHT)
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This is mostly just giving all of them room to be badasses (as they deserve) - but there are some things!! First!!
(pics: THESE WITCHES BE BITCHES minus fearne sry fearne we miss u but you are on fire and laudna is made of wood currently)
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Imogen and laudna casting spells back to back, trusting each other to take care of what’s on their side. Inseparable, even in a battle where their party has scattered to fight other enemies.
BUT. The BIG thing though in this sequence. Maybe my favorite part? Idk I don’t have a favorite. But!! Orym. taking out four of Otohan’s shadow knights. then facing off against her personally!! And it’s one-on-one, because this was Orym’s task alone - to find the person who attacked his leader and killed his family. He’s angry, but mostly he’s honed-in and focused and determined. This is his mission.
(Pics: WHO’S JUST A LIL GUY NOW HUH)
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But then, when Otohan pushes him back…
(Pic: fuck. shit. fuck. im. fine. anYway. them.)
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FCG and Ashton are there right behind him, and they put their arms out and catch him so he doesn’t fly back any farther. And there’s this look of surprise on his face, because once he lost Will, he never expected there to be anyone else standing behind him, ready to catch him. And yet, here they are.
(Pics: fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes GOOOO ORYM!!!)
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They give Orym a push forward and follow behind him, and he walks back towards Otohan with confidence. Lil grin on his face, brisk walking pace - he even does a little fancy sword swoosh! Because maybe he’s not strong enough to take out Otohan on his own. But the thing is, he’s not alone anymore.
(Pic: THEY.)
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None of them are alone. And whenever any of them forget, or slip into old habits and memories, the rest are right there to reach out a hand to remind them.
Building a family out of broken pieces is difficult even without an apocalypse. But the Hells have shown each other, over and over and over, often with their actions even more than their words, that they really are dedicated to this family that they've built together. This intro fucking slaps so hard and the animators deserve so much praise for how incredible this intro is
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Text
Emma To Bruce
Dear Bruce,
We did it! The curse is broken! Rupert is free! Long live Rupert!
In retrospect, it’s insane how much of this we tried to do by ourselves. We should have known that when we finally succeeded we would do it with a whole team present—in this case Jem, Tessa, Kit, and Magnus. (Mina assisted by raising morale and drawing all over everything with her toy stele.)
Everyone’s still here, too, and we can relax a little in a newly uncursed house. (It really is quite homey, now that it’s been cleaned up and, you know, had its demonic aura dispelled.) Everyone except Magnus, who left this afternoon in a great rush to get back to New York.
New paragraph to talk about this, actually, because I have a lot of questions that don’t have answers and I can only ask you, Bruce. So Magnus was in a hurry to get back because of a meeting Alec is holding with Luke and some other Downworlders about plans for negotiating with the Cohort. Okay, but I feel like the Cohort doesn’t have much leverage, right? The situation is way worse for them than for us. We should be able to wait them out—shouldn’t we?
I mean they have a symbolic advantage, I guess. We’re all Shadowhunters and we all miss Idris and Alicante and Lake Lyn and probably a lot of us left stuff there we can’t get back and oh right, also a lot of people lived there who have had to evacuate all over the world and want to get back. I get that. But, like…what are the Cohort even eating in there? Idris doesn’t really grow food. Are they all homesteading in there? Raising crops? Churning butter? It’s kind of hard to imagine Zara doing any of that. But you never know. I mean, there aren’t even any demons to fight in there. Which is a good reminder that Shadowhunters are definitely not meant to hole up in Idris where there’s no demons for them to fight. I feel like Raziel was pretty clear on that point.
They must be losing their minds in there. I hope they found some board games or something.
Maybe Zara has declared herself Queen for Life and she doesn’t have to farm because she just marches around threatening to kill anybody who doesn’t grow her a potato right this instant.
Or maybe we haven’t heard anything because they all ate each other in there. Or maybe they mutinied against Zara and someone else gets to threaten to kill people now.
Okay, end of pondering the Cohort. I’m in a good mood, or was before I started this entry, anyway. We’ve been hanging out with Jem and Tessa and Kit and it’s really great. We ordered in Chinese (delivery couriers are always a bit terrified to come up the driveway, but we tip them like crazy so they’ve started to know us while we’ve been here). We lit candles—for ambience instead of for dark magic, what an idea!—and ate dumplings until we were too full to move, a thing I haven’t done since Magnus and Alec’s wedding. Apparently if I am offered dumplings, I will eat them until I become a dumpling myself. To that I say: I would never reject becoming that which I love most.
Anyway. Even Kit was less broody than usual tonight! He was hanging out with Round Tom and they seemed to be getting on okay. Oh, and I almost forgot! How could I forget! The workers found a coffin buried in the garden. But there was not a horrifying dead body inside, but rather a bunch of old stuff! Using a coffin as a time capsule seemed like a weird choice to me, but Tessa and Jem made some faces and some noises that suggested there was a long-ish story there we’ll have to ask about later.
Anyway, in the coffin was A SCABBARD FOR CORTANA. I mean, right? Can you believe it? Tessa said it used to belong to Cordelia Carstairs, who was Cortana’s wielder generations ago. The scabbard needs a lot of cleaning (a lot of cleaning) but then it can be reunited with Cortana. (After all, I think it’s probably more Cortana’s possession than anyone else’s; perhaps they’ll be happy to be reunited.)
There was also a sword for Julian—what used to be a Blackthorn family sword, but this one is only a hilt, its blade is totally missing, I have no idea why. He’s talking about getting it reforged. Big shock, Round Tom knows a guy. Triangular Jerry. No, I’m kidding on the name, but Round Tom actually does know a blacksmith and he and Julian have started talking about getting that done. (Actually, what Round Tom wants to do is have a forge installed at Chiswick, which is a cool idea, but do we want another building project on top of all the others? I mean, maybe, having a forge here at the house would be pretty cool.)
Oh, you might be wondering about Rupert’s ring, since it’s not like he could take it with him, and he hasn’t come back for it in a ghost way. Magnus checked it out and said no magic any more, just an ordinary ring Tatiana must have enchanted to bind Rupert. But none of us is going to wear it, of course. So we put it on the mantelpiece in the drawing room. Where it will remain.
The Gray-Carstairs-Herondaleses are heading back to Cirenworth tomorrow. It’s been really great having them here, but you know, it will be nice to have them go and have it be just Julian and I here in the house, not feeling creepy all the time. That seems like good times for us.
#
Bruce, good times are canceled. Everything’s gone wrong. I guess I was a little too smug about how everything was going; the universe had to come and screw it up for me.
Mina is gone.
And by gone I mean kidnapped.
And by kidnapped I mean, the kidnapper left a creepy old-timey porcelain doll (with wide, dead eyes, ugh) in her place, and a note.
I had just finished writing the above stuff when I heard a horrible scream from upstairs and loud footsteps, and came out to find everyone gathered in Mina’s room staring in horror.
I immediately thought oh no, another curse, or the same curse, the curse isn’t over, and maybe you did too, but that’s not what this is. This is something else entirely. Something involving faeries. Something involving Faerie.
Tessa picked up the note, read it, and handed it to Jem with a bad look on her face. Julian was already opening the window to see if anyone could be spotted outside, and I read over Jem’s shoulder:
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seeingivy · 10 months
Text
the scouts
roommate eren x f!reader 
eren’s hometown friends have a lot to say. vis a vis you. 
**find the series masterlist here
content warning: galliard slander, irritable bowel syndrome, mikasa don’t gaf, connie and sasha are thieves, lying??, carla yeager being a sunshine, eren being a cheeky little shit, laxatives 
an: alright. feast my children. pls keep ur little memes and drawings and funny comments coming bc I love them (and they incentivize me to write chapters faster so I can seem more of them LOL) - also @togemayo and @rebeccawinters your connie and reiner cameos have ARRIVED, love you da mostest 
previous part linked here
“There’s no way in fucking hell you called me about this. I am a grown man, with a child. I’m above stupid shit like this.” 
“Fuck you, Galliard. Pieck would help me with this, you know that.” 
“Then call her. I’m going to block you.” 
“You don’t think I tried that? I would never willingly talk to you, like ever. Please, Galliard, just tell me what to do.” 
“Twerp, you’re giving him a necklace, not proposing marriage. You’re not going to look desperate if you walk to a fucking soccer field and just to give it to him.” 
“Okay. Are you sure?” 
“I’m hanging up now.” 
“Like really. You’re not just saying that, are you?” 
“Don’t call me unless you’re dying. And even then, you better have tried every other person you know before you ever dial this number again.” 
Static. Fucking asshole hung up on you. 
Eren has a soccer game today. He’d let you know early on in the week that he wouldn’t be here to make breakfast for you on Friday because his family and a few of his hometown friends were coming to watch the game. Apparently, this game was a really big deal - some type of rivalry type thing with another university. 
You weren’t going. Obviously. You had stopped going the second Hitch took your jersey, because it was too embarrassing to think about going now. I mean what are you even supposed to wear now? And what’s the point of going if Eren’s with her and she’s going to be there? 
Yet here you are, waiting in the line outside of the stadium. Everyone around you is decked out - forest green shirts, face paint, streamers - and you can already tell that this game is way more intense than the ones you had been to. In the past, it would be you and maybe five other people in the stands, spread out doing homework. But this game looks like it’s going to be packed. 
All the more reason to do this. 
to jean-boy
you: hey. are you at the game today? 
jean-boy: yeah. on the field with min. they’re all warming up. 
you: i didn’t realize this game would be such a big deal lol. 
jean-boy: yeah. I think everyone’s kind of anxious. eren hasn’t made a single goal all morning and he’s getting more pissed each time he tries 
you: doesn’t help that he left his necklace at home 
jean-boy: the key necklace? did you bring it? 
you: yeah. that’s why im here. i remember he said something about like he always loses games or gets hurt or something when he doesn’t wear it. thought i’d bring it so i don’t have to help him to the toilet when he breaks his legs or smth. 
jean-boy: meet me in the back. ill let you in so you can give it to him. 
You awkwardly wait in the back of the stadium, teetering on your heels as you wait for Jean. You’re just giving him his necklace. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t know that you like him because you’re just giving him his good luck charm. You’re being a good friend. Anyone in your position would do this. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi Jean.” 
“What are you wearing?” 
You look down, only now paying attention to the outfit that you were wearing. You didn’t think it was that bad - black jeans and a blue cardigan. 
“Why? What’s wrong with it?” 
“You wore the rival's colors.” 
“Okay? Arrest me, Jean.” 
“No, it’s like a thing. You can’t wear the rival's colors. Armin and Eren are going to make you change the second you get on the field.” 
“You guys are so superstitious. It’s just a shirt.” 
He shakes his head as you both walk through the door, pacing across the turf as he sets out to look for Eren. All the players are running on the field, kicking balls in between each other, hitting them into the nets. You spot Eren at the end, his head in his hands as he talks to Armin on the side. 
“Hey. Found him. You can go back, I’ll just give it to him and leave.” 
He nods, leaving your side as you make your way over there. You walk up just in time to catch the end of Armin and Eren’s conversation, your ears burning. You shouldn’t have come. 
“How do you know you love Annie? Because, sometimes I think I love her, Armin.” 
You can pretend like that one didn’t sting. You clear your throat, the two of them turning their backs to look at you. You watch Eren’s eyes nearly boggle out of their sockets as Armin drops the water bottle he was holding, at the sight of you standing there. Armin awkwardly walks away as Eren walks up, his eyes still flashing in shock. 
“What are you doing here?” 
“What happened to hello? How are you? My name is?” 
“How much did you hear?” 
“None of it. Did I miss something important?” 
You see his shoulders relax, pushing out a sigh of relief. First he calls you his best friend and then he can’t even tell you he thinks he might love Hitch?
“Yeah, you almost heard about my murder plot. It all started that fateful day, when I let you move into my apartment.” 
“That was months ago. Surely the opportunity must have presented itself. Knife to the back in the shower…smack me across the head with a frying pan…” 
“I’m playing the long game. You’ll never see it coming.” 
You both laugh, with you rolling your eyes as the silence settles around you too. You can see the stands filling up at your sides, the anticipation building in the stadium. 
“Um so-” 
“What are you wearing, Y/N?”
“We’re not doing this, Eren.” 
“You have to change. Like now.” 
“I’m not walking around in my tank top, Eren. It’s cold. And I’ll leave anyway, I just came to give you this.” 
You hold the key necklace up, dangling it between the two of your faces. You watch his eyes light up as he takes the necklace from your hands. He then cups your face in his hand and presses a kiss to your fucking forehead, before putting his arms around you and spinning you in the air.
“Oh my fucking god, thank you. You brilliant, brilliant girl. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ve been missing goals all morning.” 
Your brain is malfunctioning. You’ve literally picked up Eren from parties in the dead of the night and he’s barely even said thank you when you did that. This is all it takes? A fucking necklace and he gives you a forehead kiss? 
He sets you down, still flashing you a bigger than big smile as he latches the necklace on. 
“You’re not missing goals because you weren’t wearing the necklace.” 
“Yes. I was. We’re not having this argument right now, especially when you’re wearing that. I have something you can wear.” 
You hear Armin walk up, holding two jerseys in his hand. 
“Way ahead of you. She can wear mine or yours. Everyone else put their spares in their lockers already.” 
“Mine. Thanks Armin.” 
“Don’t tell me you believe in this too, Armin?” 
“Just put it on. If you don’t, Eren will blame you if the game goes wrong.” 
Armin walks away, leaving the two of you standing again. Eren’s holding the jersey out in front of you, waiting for you to put it on. 
“Full disclosure. I will blame it on you, if we lose kitty.” 
“It’s just a color.” 
“No. No, it’s the principle. Think about it. My girl can’t be wearing the rival colors on our sides of the stands. That’s just a bad omen..like we’re asking to lose the game or something.” 
My girl. 
“I’m leaving, Eren. I just came to give you the necklace.” 
He puts his hands on your waist, spinning you around to turn you towards the stadium, where everyone was sitting. He leaves one hand on there, his other sliding down to your wrist. 
“What are you doing?” 
He lifts your hand up, shaking it in front of the stadium. 
“This isn’t the time for a puppet show, Eren.” 
“Look at the second row, towards the middle.” 
You squint your eyes, scanning the entire row. And then you fucking see it. Eren’s parents and his brother. He’s making you wave at them. And they’re doing it back, nearly jumping to return the gesture.
“Eren.” 
He spins you back around and he fucking smirks at you. 
“You waved at them. Now, they’re going to expect you to go sit with them. For the entire game, mind you. Meaning you’re staying, so you should put it on.” 
Asshole. 
“Unless you want to leave my mom hanging?” 
“Give me the jersey, Eren.” 
He flashes you a winning smile, clearly delighted with his victory. You unbutton the ends of the cardigan, slipping it off and switching it with Eren’s jersey. He reaches forward, pulling out the ends of your hair that were tucked into the jersey as you smooth it against your clothes. 
“So.” 
“So.” 
“Win your game or whatever. Without the help of your stupid necklace.” 
“Planning on it, peaches. Necklace and all.” 
He pokes the side of your cheek and flashes you one last smile as he runs back onto the field, right in front of the goal. You watch as he centers the ball in front of him, kicking it into the net on the first try. He turns to the side, pointing at you after making the goal, as he mouths four words.
I told you so. 
You tap Zeke on the shoulder, the three of them turning their heads towards you. 
“Hi. Mind if I sit with you guys?” 
The three of them jump up - Grisha shaking your hand very excitedly, Zeke crushing you in a hug, and Carla cupping your face in her hands, pressing a kiss on both of your cheeks. 
So this is where Eren gets it from. 
“We’re so excited you came, sweet girl. We were hoping you would find your way over here when we saw you on the field.” 
You nod, Carla squeezing your hands in hers (another thing Eren gets from her, you’re sure of it). You settle in the seat next to Zeke, brushing your sweaty palms against the ends of your pants. You can see the game is starting as they all take their places on the field, Eren giving the four of you one last wave. You look at the group of people seated directly to your right, the four of them waving back at him too. 
And then you remember. Eren’s hometown friends came down to watch his game. 
You take in the sight of the four of them. You can recognize the girl at the end, farthest from you. Mikasa - Eren’s childhood best friend, the two of them and Armin were inseparable. The two in the middle you recognize as well, from the polaroid that Eren had in his wallet. They’re both arguing with each other - with him pulling her hair and her elbowing him in the sides. The fourth boy is entirely unrecognizable to you - broad shoulders, short, messy blonde hair. 
You tap him on the shoulder. 
“Hi. You’re one of Eren’s hometown friends, right? My name is Y/N. I’m his roommate.” 
At the sound of this, the four of them turn their heads, turning to face you. 
“His roommate? Since when?” 
“Yeah. We’ve been living together since the start of the semester.” 
“Reiner, there’s no way in hell right? He kept going on and on about how he was going to finally have a bachelor pad this semester.” 
“There’s no fucking way. He literally hated having a roommate. Remember when he threw up on Samuel’s bed on purpose when he was drunk?” 
Mental note, Reiner’s the one with the blonde hair. The three of them turn their heads towards Mikasa, who's still watching the game. You’re not sure when she showed up, but Annie’s sitting at her side - the two of them linking their arms together as they sit. Right. She must already know Mikasa since her and Armin have been dating for a while. 
“Mikasa. Did you know about this?” 
“He may have mentioned it once or twice to me, Connie.” 
Buzzed hair is Connie. Connie and the girl in the middle open up the space between them, gesturing for the two of you to sit between them. You don’t miss the look they give each other as you sit down, the two of them smiling deviously. 
“I’m Sasha.” 
“And I’m Connie.” 
“It’s nice to meet you guys, really.” 
They both smile, linking their arms with yours as they start staring at you more intently. 
“Say. Do you mind answering a few questions for us?” 
“Sure.” 
“How did Eren become your roommate?” 
“I kind of had these sucky roommates last semester. They kind of didn’t mention that they didn’t want to room with me anymore so I kind of switched around at staying at my friends place while I tried to look for an apartment. I couldn’t find one after a week and I met Eren at Armin’s and he offered.” 
You watch the three of them, Reiner leaning over now, widening their eyes at you. 
“He offered? To house you, a woman, another person, in his apartment, willingly?” 
“I mean, I think so? I think he might have felt bad or something. I’m not really sure why he did it.” 
“I might have an idea.” 
At Reiner’s comment, the three of them start giggling, like they’re all in on some joke you’re not quite sure of. 
“Do you like Taylor Swift, Y/N?” 
“I do, Connie. Is it that obvious?” 
You feel Connie shaking your arm, nearly jumping out of his seat. 
“Me too. What’s your favorite album? Favorite song? Folklore or Evermore?” 
“Probably, Reputation. For the song, I think maybe Sweet Nothing? And definitely Evermore over here.” 
Reiner reaches over and smacks Connie on the back of the neck, mentioning he was getting off track. Off track of what? 
“Say. Have you ever…played Taylor Swift for Eren or something?” 
“Um, not exactly playing it for him but I kind of have a tendency to sing in the shower sometimes. But also, he did willingly watch the Reputation Stadium Tour without me prompting him to, so I think it’s growing on him.” 
At this, Connie and Sasha lean over, their faces a few feet from yours. 
“I fucking knew it. That playlist is about you.” 
“What playlist?” 
You watch Reiner pull out his phone, opening out his Spotify app. The three of them are still smirking - the same way Eren did when he trapped you into staying at the game. 
He hands you Eren’s Spotify profile, with exactly one playlist on it, called peaches. The picture is the one from when you and Eren went to see Kenny in the city, only your hands in view as you pet the cat the two of you saw on the street. 
You scroll through the playlist, with well over a hundred songs - most of them being Taylor Swift. They are organized by album, a few songs picked out from each one. Meaning, Eren went through each album and picked out the songs that he liked. Just because you said you liked Taylor Swift. I mean, it did have to be about you. It is called peaches. 
“So. Is it about you?” 
“Uh, yeah. I think so, Connie. Those are my hands. And he calls me peaches, because of my shampoo.” 
Mikasa leans over, interjecting in the conversation. 
“Did he make you switch it? The shampoo?” 
“Uh, no. I think he likes it?” 
“Hm.” 
Mikasa leans back, sharing a look with Sasha. 
“Is that a big deal or something, Connie?” 
“Kind of. Eren got really bad food poisoning from some peach flavored concoction Reiner made him once in high school. The smell makes him want to like vomit.” 
“It wasn’t a concoction, it was a protein shake. How was I supposed to know that dragon fruit was basically a laxative?” 
“We all told you. Like six times.” the three of them respond, rolling their eyes. 
Sasha and Connie unlink their arms from yours, turning their attention back to the game. The four of them interject once in a while, lost in their own conversations, but your head is still buzzing from the one that you had with them. 
Eren has a playlist. That he made for you. He spent hours probably - listening to each song, picking out the ones he liked. 
“Say. Did Eren ever mention us?” 
“Hm. Well, I knew about Mikasa - Armin and Eren have both mentioned her. And I’ve seen a picture of the two of you before, Eren has one in his wallet. But no Reiner, never mentioned you.” 
“We have his wallet.” 
Reiner taps Zeke on the shoulder and pockets the wallet from him. Sasha and Connie reach over, pulling out the dollar bills first - equally dividing the cash between the five of you and stuffing her share in her pocket - before returing it to Reiner, who pulls out both polaroids. 
This is when you realize your mistake. Because the polaroid of you kissing his cheek is still in his fucking wallet. You watch Reiner pull it out and hold it out in front of Connie and Sasha, the two of them shaking you in their arms as they all scream in your ears. 
“You guys are so cute! We fucking knew it. When did you start dating?” 
At the sound of that, you see Carla turn her head out of the corner of her eyes, slightly shuffling over to see what you two are talking about. And then your mistake gets even worse. Because then Carla runs over, kissing you twice on the cheeks again and literally bursting out of happiness at the news. 
“Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I knew something was going on. And I even told Eren, he better get a move on because a girl like you doesn’t stay single for long.” 
“You would be shocked, Mrs.Yeager.” 
She takes her hands into yours, squeezing twice again. Fucking Yeagers and their hand squeezing. It’s almost impossible not to like them. 
“Take care of our boy, okay?. He’s really sensitive and emotional, which I’m sure you know already but he means well. Really. And let him take care of you too. He’s told me that you’re a little bit more closed off at times, but he would never hurt you. He cares about you, so so much. It’s you two, on the same side, always.” 
And you can’t do it. You can’t tell her the truth because…she’s just so excited. So happy for the two of you. The way she’s holding your hands in hers, kissing your cheeks, doting over you. She’s so excited that it’s you. You don’t want to be the one to tell her that her son has no interest in you. 
So you don’t. 
“I will. Take care of him, I mean.” 
She smiles widely again, crushing you in your arms as he gives you another hug. 
Now you have to find Eren. And tell him that you just told your mom that the two of you are dating. 
-  
You find him at half-time, outside the locker room. He’s lying on the bench with two of his teammates, ice packs pressed to each of his foreheads. 
“Ren?” 
He immediately sits up at the sound of your voice, pulling the ice pack off his head as he stands up. He gestures towards the walkway, the two of you walking back down to the stadium. 
“Everything okay, kitty?” 
“Uh. I might have messed up.” 
He stops, turning to face you. 
“What did you do?” 
“Promise you won’t be mad, Ren?” 
“I could never be mad at you. You know that.” 
Right. Okay. Just tell him. That’s when you start rambling. 
“Well. I met your friends - they’re really nice. Connie and Sasha stole some of your money, though. And Reiner was basically telling me about how he gave you Irritable Bowel Syndrome with a peach smoothie he made you, which is weird because you call me peaches but they were insisting that you hate them. Right, so I told them that you keep a polaroid of them in your wallet - because it’s so cute and I would want to know if I was them -  and then they pulled your wallet out and the other polaroid was still in there. And then your mom saw and she was just being so…so sweet that I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t really together.” 
He’s staring you down. Green eyes, forehead scrunched up, lips in a straight line. Stop paying attention to his fucking lips. 
“So. Let me get this straight. You told my mom that…we were dating?” 
“Yes.”
“That’s it?” 
“What? 
“I thought you killed someone or something. That’s not a big deal.” 
“How is that not a big deal? I just lied to your mother. And told her that we were dating.” 
“Yeah. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in your position. She probably gave you that whole lecture right, about how we need to take care of each other, how I’m all sensitive and emotional?” 
You’ve got to be kidding me. 
“Yeah. How’d you know? 
“She gave me the same one after she met you. Even I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t dating you. I just told her I liked you, that’s all.” 
“Oh. Okay. I was like freaking out about it.” 
He locks his fingers with yours, squeezing twice as the two of you continue to slowly walk. 
“It’s okay. I’ll deal with her. She just really likes you, that’s all. They all do.” 
“Okay. You sure it’s okay? You’re not secretly mad at me right?” 
He looks over, giving you a lopsided grin, the one that makes your heart skip a beat. 
“Really, kitty. I could never be mad at you. And I know you. There’s nothing nefarious going on up here.” 
He takes his fingers, tapping on your forehead. 
“How do you know? This could all be a part of my secret plot to be the new Mrs. Yeager.” 
“Bullshit.” 
You nudge into him, making him stumble to the side as you both make it to the front of the stadium. 
“And why’s that?” 
“Because. You wouldn’t need a secret plot if that’s what you wanted.” 
He taps the end of your nose before lifting the bar to run back on the field to finish the game, leaving you more confused than when you arrived here.
Stupid Galliard. He always gives terrible advice. 
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from-the-clouds · 1 year
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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. iv
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chapter summary: This time, it's different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. At this point he’s stopped lying to himself – Joel’s here to see you.  pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: some angst, marijuana use, suggestive thoughts and actions (but no smut -- as always, dm if you want specifics), divorce mention. a/n: The next few weeks of my life will be insane (and NOT just because succession is coming back). I want to keep updating this, but something's gotta give, because the way I've been writing is not sustainable unfortunately. So updates may end up being shorter and the fic having more parts, or updates might be less frequent with longer parts. Also, a question for my loyal readers: Do you make your shirley temples with ginger ale or with Sprite/7up? Because I came from a sprite/7UP family but once i discovered ginger ale instead i was HOOKED. So i am a Ginger Ale Shirley Temple Truther.
-May 5, 2003-
Please pick up, please pick up, you cross your arms in front of you, looking over your shoulder. The pointed toe of your heels clacks against the asphalt as you tap it repeatedly, a steady beat. You have no reason to be so nervous, right now. It must have something to do with who you are calling, not just why. 
“Hello?” the droning ring is interrupted by a voice that sounds skeptical, they don’t recognize your number.
“Joel?” you ask.
“Hey, you,” his tone evens out when he hears you say his name. He had given you his cell phone number a few weeks back, the night he’d caught you smoking on your back porch. In case I’m not home and something’s goin’ on with Sarah, he’d said. It made sense, though all it did was tempt you to call him many times before this, and not about Sarah. You were worried because…maybe this was out of line.
There’s noises in the background that threaten to drown Joel out – saws and various power tools whirring, a jackhammer, men calling out to each other. It’s loud. At your job, you close the door to your office if someone is typing too loud on their keyboard. “I uh- I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
You hear a door shut in response, and the noise fades to a low purr. “Not at all. Everything okay? Sarah alright?”
“Yeah, this isn’t about her, though. I hope that’s okay.”
“It depends,” In your mind, right now he’s leaning against a messy metal desk, one of his hands planted on its surface to keep himself stable, the muscles in his forearm flexing under tension. He’s got a toolbelt slung low over the waistband of his Carhartt’s. He’s a little sweaty – it’s hot out, today – his cheeks flushed, pieces of dark hair clinging to his forehead. The image is doing something for you, and you have to take a deep, measured breath to reset before you can answer him.
“Do you…know anything about cars?” you ask. 
“A little….why?”
“I took my car to get serviced, and…I’m pretty sure I’m about to be swindled.” You hesitate, then qualify. “I didn’t have anyone else to call, and…you seem like you might be good with this sort of thing.”
There are a lot of things you know a lot about, and cars are just not one of them. From your perspective, a car is simply a means to get from Point A to Point B, and the less you know about the how, the better. Although your complete lack of understanding definitely doesn’t help you in your current situation. You’d considered calling your brother, and even your father – but you knew they’d be no help, having lived in Manhattan their whole lives. 
Bradley had a nice car, but you suspected it was more for his image, and less because he knew anything about them. Plus, you didn’t really ask for much of each other outside of sex – and if you started too, it might initiate another talk about where you ‘see him in your future’, and the thought alone is grating, because you don’t. 
Since you moved away from home, you’ve spent a lot of time asserting to yourself that you’re completely independent. But moments like this remind you that it’s not entirely true…it’s not possible to be on your own in the way you want, and you always end up needing someone. 
“I might be able to help.” Joel sounds unconcerned. “What’s goin’ on?”
“They just told me my car needs a new battery, and I need new tires.”
“How old are they?”
“I don’t know like-” your phone vibrates furiously in your hand, an incoming call from your coworker. “Oh my god, leave me alone,” you groan out loud. “-Not you, Joel, sorry. I stepped away for lunch and…you know how it goes. Anyways, I don’t think I’ve gotten either of them changed since I got my car.”
“How old is your car?”
“Seven years.”
“Good lord,” Joel mutters, and he sounds somewhat disappointed. “Yeah, you should get both those things.”
“They weren’t lying? It’s gonna cost a couple hundred bucks.”
“No, I doubt they were,” he gives a warm chuckle, and it melts away some of your stress, even if your wallet is about to take a considerable hit. “Where’d you take your car?”
“I don’t know, just…some place around the corner from where I work.”
“In the future, you should go to Robert’s place in town. He’s done some work on my truck. Probably will cost a lot less.”
“Noted,” you nod. “Thanks so much, sorry for catching you at work.”
“Not at all, I don’t mind…” Joe answers. “Shipments keep getting delayed, so…it’s been kind of a slow day.”
“I’m jealous,” you say. “Because I swear, lately, whenever I leave the office for more than two minutes everything explodes….or at least it feels that way.”
“Sounds like you’re important,” Joel says, you can hear his smile over the phone, see it, practically. 
Scoffing, you answer. “Hardly. But uh, thanks again. I definitely owe you one.”
You expect him to say goodbye, so you’re surprised by what he asks next. “What are you doing Friday?” 
“I don’t know. What are you doing Friday?”
“I’m assumin’ Sarah’s probably left something at your place….if you’re gonna be around, I might stop by to get it….”
“You want me to smoke you up?” 
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant,” You’re direct.
“Look, I’m just sayin’ if it happens, I wouldn’t be mad.”
“I already told you, you’re welcome anytime,” you say. “But won’t Sarah-oh wait, no, she has that school dance, doesn’t she?”
Sarah had taken to writing important events in her life on the calendar that hung on your fridge. It was usually blank, you were good enough at remembering your own plans without utilizing it. But she had told you the empty calendar made her sad, so now it was filled with her doodles and notes, scribbled with blue glitter gel pen. And Friday night’s event she’d underlined three times.
“She does,” Joel answers, seemingly amused. 
Another call comes through on your phone. “Okay, yeah, I gotta go. But I’ll be around Friday.”
“Then maybe I’ll stop by,” Joel says, and you ignore the flash of heat through your abdomen – excitement – at the idea of him coming over.  “Have a good rest of your day.”
“You too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
-May 9, 2003-
Joel arrives at your place before the sun sets, once again. But this time, it is different. He’s not here to help you fix something, or to drag Sarah home, or pick up something she’s left behind. Of course, he’s got his excuse, but really, at this point he’s stopped lying to himself – he’s here to see you. 
“Well, well, well…” you open the screen door, lean against the doorframe, and cross your arms over your chest. “If it isn’t the neighborhood space cowboy.”
“You’re one to talk.” 
You squint at him, but the way the corner of your mouth quirks gives you away. “Touche.” 
God, he’s already regretting this. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. But it’s become increasingly difficult to resist you, and that’s assuming that you’re even interested. He’s all-but kissed you and he’s still not quite sure where he stands. You’re not easy to read, but he has always enjoyed a challenge. At the end of the day it’s never a bad idea for him to brush up on his flirting, Tommy’s words from a few weeks ago have been getting to him. For much as he believes it’s bound to happen, Joel doesn’t want to end up alone.
“Come on in,” you push yourself off the doorframe and lead him through your house.
The last time he’d been here you’d been wearing some long-sleeved, satin pajama set. He remembered because he spent all night trying not to touch the fabric, though maybe he was just looking for an excuse to touch you. Tonight, with your back turned towards him, his eyes wander down to the curve of your ass in your low-rise, bootcut jeans. He feels the slightest bit of shame about doing it, before deciding that what you can’t see won’t hurt you.
“How was the mechanic?” he asks once you’ve entered the back porch.
“Oh fine,” you say, sitting down on the couch, gesturing to the spot across from you. “I’m just pissed I had to spend a bunch of money on a car battery and not something more…fun.”
“It’s a good thing you did,” Joel sits. “Honestly, I’m surprised you called me from the mechanic and not from a ditch on the side of the road.”
“This is my first car, Joel. I grew up in a walkable community,” you pick up an already-rolled joint, the faintest acknowledgement that you’d planned for this ahead of time – and lift it to your lips. 
“It’s okay, I’m teasing.” Joel assures, and lets his gaze linger while you smoke, just admiring, as he often does. When you pass the joint over to him, he speaks again. “I have to be good tonight, cause Sarah’s gonna be home in a couple hours.”
“Yeah, first school dance, big deal,” you raise your eyebrows. “Help me out, because I went to an all-girls school. It’s middle school. Do kids go with dates?”
Joel shakes his head. “Not that I know of. Sarah just went with a group of friends.” 
“That makes sense,” you nod. “Speaking of, I have to be good, too. I’m going to her soccer game tomorrow.”
Joel feels his brows knit together in confusion, and it causes you to continue on. “She keeps asking me to come to one, and I haven’t been able to, so I feel bad. I guess her season’s almost over.” 
“Tomorrow’s her last game…” Joel mutters, looking up towards the ceiling, where the smoke is collecting, and exhales. “But you know you don’t have to do that.”
“Obviously, but…” you shrug. “...I want to.”
He chuckles to himself, runs a hand through his hair, which is still damp from the shower he took before this. “You’re really prepared to put yourself through a middle school soccer game…” 
“Look, Joel,” Your eyes are half-lidded, focused on him, and your arm is slung over the back of the couch, fist supporting your temple. “In case you couldn’t tell…I’m doing this thing where I try to engage in the community I live in. But so far, your family members are the only ones who’ve included me in anything, so until I find someone else….” you trail off. “You’re stuck with me.”
Joel doesn’t want you to find someone else. Being stuck with you is hardly a problem. He wants to tell you, but instead, all he manages is: “We’ll be good tonight.” Still, he’s not entirely convinced that he can trust himself to make a promise like that. 
It’s a tad too early for the sun to be setting, but it’s early in May, so the weather is perfect, and he’s sort of itching to be outside. Maybe there’s something to be done before the light wanes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” he asks you.
You seem taken aback by his request, wrinkling your nose.”….I don’t know.”
“It’s a nice night, you might enjoy yourself. And we’re in good company.” 
The grimace on your face disappears, and is replaced by something more amiable. “We are,” you tilt your, make a decision. “Yeah, okay…let’s do it.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Once you’ve locked your front door, closed your windows, Joel walks side-by-side with you down your driveway. You only make it about halfway down when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone calling out your name, then his. 
Your next-door neighbor, Denise Watson, leans over the railing of her front porch, while her husband John sits in a chair behind her, giving a lazy wave and returning back to his puzzlebook. Joel nods at him, and notices the color has drained out of your face. The Watsons have lived on this street since before even Joel and Sarah moved in. They’re in their late 60s, retired, all their children grown – which gives them plenty of time to get into everyone’s business. 
“Hey,” you offer the most unenthusiastic greeting he thinks he’s ever heard. You’re paranoid, and he’d laugh if it were just the two of you, alone. But it’s not, and he knows these just so happen to be neighbors you’ve been lying to.
“How are you doing, hun?” 
“I’m good,” you say softly, and Joel watches Denise’s eyes flick over his direction. 
“Same here,” he manages. 
“What are you ya’ll up to?”
“We’re just goin’ for a walk,” Joel answers, looking your way. You nod at him, wordlessly, then at Denise. 
“How lovely.” She smiles, and it’s sincere, so he knows she doesn’t suspect anything. “It’s nice to see you two getting along so well.” Even from where he’s standing, Joel sees her eyebrows lift suggestively.
You and Joel both answer the insinuation at the same time.
“Yeah, well-” 
“She looks after Sarah for me, so-”
You bob your head enthusiastically. “Mhm, yeah. Sarah. Great kid.”
Denise opens her mouth again, and you speak so quickly, Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you’re afraid of what she’s going to say next. “We gotta go,” you shuffle backwards a few steps, quickly, and collide with Joel’s chest. “Before it gets dark out,” when you turn, you’re looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. 
“Oh, alright,” Denise says, sounding a little disappointed. “Ya’ll stay safe, alright?”
“Of course,” Joel calls over his shoulder, managing a halfhearted wave before he’s trailing you around the bend in the cul-de-sac that takes you out of view from The Watsons porch.
The second you’ve made it you whirl to face him, your jaw drops, and you both erupt into laughter. You grip his bicep and lean into him, pressing your face into the cotton of his t-shirt to stifle the noise. He’s tempted to pull you under his arm all the way, but he resists the urge. Would that be okay? He’s not sure. And he’s not necessarily in the best headspace to make the decision.
“Oh my god,” you murmur, swiping under your eyes as you pull back, and start walking a few steps ahead of him. 
“It’s like I’m back in high school,” Joel says. Neither of you decide to mention what your neighbor had insinuated, but it is objectively funny. 
“Oh, I’m sure you were trouble.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” Joel says. “Although I did sneak out quite a bit. But it was only to see girls – well, one girl.” 
“Sarah’s mom?” you ask. 
“Yeah.” Joel isn’t sure why he’s mentioned it. It’s not really something he’s interested in speaking on now – or ever – for that matter, even if every person he’s mentioned it to has questions. What happened? What did you do? You poor thing. Above all else, he hated being pitied. 
But you don’t press him, and change the subject. “So…a few weeks ago you had said you and Tommy had a work project you were gonna book. Did that pan out?”
Joel cocks his head, surprised you remembered. “Actually, it did. Funny you ask. Things moved slow but…we signed the contract today. I’m sort of celebrating.”
“Congratulations,” you look over your shoulder slightly to give him a genuine grin. “But uh…you should’ve told me. Had I known we were celebrating, I would’ve tried to make things more exciting.” 
“Can’t think of anything better.”
You pause, because you’ve reached the end of your cul-de-sac. “Suit yourself.” you say. “Are you gonna lead though? I don’t know where we’re going.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the point.” Joel expects some kind of quip in response, but you just shake your head and narrow your eyes. Tucking your hair behind your ears, he senses a bit of uneasiness. “You alright?”
“I’m fine I just…” you shake your head. “I don’t love being stoned in public.”
“You’re alright.” Joel puts his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to fall into step beside him. “Come on, darlin’, just walk with me.” It’s terrible how easily the term of endearment slips out – and he waits for your reaction. But all he feels is the way your body loosens under his touch. 
That brings him some satisfaction, but as usual, it’s not enough. Because if you’re not going to stop him, he longs to push the hair off your neck, kiss along your pulse point, feel you melt even further as his thumbs work at the muscles in your shoulders. Joel fantasizes about what his name might sound like, coming from you, in a breathless sigh. The image works him up a little too much, and he lets his hand fall back to his side.
For a while, you both walk in silence, your fingers brushing against his every so often, but neither of you acknowledge it, apologize, or decide to step further away from each other to keep it from happening again and again.
It’s a beautiful night, the warmth of the day dwindling under the blanket of thinning clouds tinted pink in the sunset. Joel is amazed at how content he feels, can’t remember the last time he’s felt this way – not worried about someone, or something, or letting anyone down. 
It’s May, so almost all the native flowers are in full bloom. Tulips planted in gardens, pansies overflowing from pots on porches, dandelions dotting pristine green lawns. Stepping away from Joel, you pause in front of an empty, overgrown lot that’s basically turned into a wildflower patch. 
“This is nice,” you say, decidedly. “It’s pretty.” 
“I told you.”
Once more, he expects some clever retort, but your eyebrows are pinched together, and you crouch to look closely at some bluebonnets that are the same color as the tight-fitting henley you’ve got on. “I know you mentioned it back there but… Sarah’s told me…about her mom.”
Joel feels himself stiffen. “Yeah….well, she never really got to know her.” 
When he’s feeling particularly remorseful, his brain replays a memory of Sarah, only four years old, toddling around the tiny apartment they lived in and calling out for her mother. His ex had left when she was so young, so he had known there was no way Sarah actually remembered her. But all her classmates had two parents, all the movies she watched at home depicted loving, complete families. That night, after tucking her in, he’d retreated to his room, and cried for the first time since his divorce. Ever since then, it was impossible to shake the feeling he wouldn’t be enough.
Sometimes, he felt better about it then others. Sarah grew out of that phase, and Joel thought that’d be the last of it. When he finally bought the house, he felt like he’d proven he could do it alone. They would be fine. That was until Joel found an old photo of him and his ex underneath Sarah’s pillow while he was changing her sheets. The discovery left him with the same feeling all over again. 
Now, in the wake of the excitement that he’s signed onto his first real contracting gig, a promotion, a raise – this information from you deflates him all over again. 
“You don’t like to talk about it?” you guess correctly. 
“Not particularly.” Normally, Joel would shut something like this down. But he can’t bring himself to be cruel to you. “We were young. What happened was for the best. I wish Sarah understood that.”
“You don’t give her enough credit. She’s a bright kid,” you answer, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Anyways, I get it. When you cut yourself off from a bad situation, it's hard. The alternative is worse, though. People forget that part.”
Joel feels a little reassured by what you’re saying. Why he immediately went on the defense when you brought it up, he’ll explore later. “I wish more people understood,” he murmurs. 
“Me too,” you nod, and you nudge him gently to keep walking. “And people process things differently. It makes sense she's curious. It’s a very human thing.” 
“I know.” What was it that you had said a few weeks back? They’re always with you, no matter what. That’s not a sentiment Joel can completely wrap his head around yet. “It does make me think sometimes…maybe she needs some else….someone who isn't…me.””
“Oh, come on, Joel,” you halt in your tracks, almost like he’s offended you in some way. You look up at him from under your eyelashes. “You’re a good man.”
Validation. He doesn’t get it often – ever, really. And he doesn’t need it, but….coming from you, he feels like he just wants more. And more. He can think of a few ways he might get it, too. Some less innocent than others. 
“Should we turn around?” he asks. You nod. 
There’s a bit of light still remaining in the sky by the time you round the corner to Joel’s street, but the sun has set long ago. He’s probably supposed to say goodbye, standing at the end of your respective driveways, but he finds that end to the evening rather disappointing. 
“You know what I can’t stop thinking about right now?” you ask, Joel. He’s a little hesitant to answer, based on the ornery glint in your eyes. All he has to do is raise his eyebrows, and you continue. “A shirley temple.”
Joel can’t help but laugh, and he sees how you light up at the sound. “You serious?” he asks. 
“I know they’re….for kids, but…I don’t know. They’re really fucking good.”
“They are,” he answers, and you’re at the end of your driveway. He hesitates for a second, thinks you might say goodbye, but you just check over your shoulder to make sure he’s following you. He does. 
“This is probably the weed talking, but I’m going to make some.” You unlock your front door, and he holds it open to let you step inside, before following. 
“You have the stuff to make them?” he questions. 
Yes, you bob your head, then walk to the corner of your front room and flick on a light. Warm light floods the room, and you walk through the archway into your kitchen. When he follows you there, your back is towards him, opening a glass-doored cabinet containing various liquor bottles, wines, cordials, and accoutrements. 
“You want one? I have to say, I’ve been making them a lot lately, and I think I’ve perfected the recipe.”
“Well in that case, I’ve gotta try,” Joel wanders to your small kitchen table, about a quarter of it covered in neat piles of paperwork. There’s a messenger bag slung over the back of a chair, and in front of it is there’s a thick contract. The page it’s opened to is riddled with blue ink, crossing through sentences, scribbled in the paper’s margins. He can’t make out any of the jargon in the fine print. Next to it sits a pair of thin black reading glasses, and a sleek fountain pen engraved with your name. 
His eyes fall next to a stack of old photographs sitting atop an opened envelope. With two fingers, he pushes the top photo off the stack, once, twice, three times, until he gets to the bottom of the pile, and they’re spread out in front of him. Maybe he shouldn’t be snooping like this, but his curiosity is getting the best of him. 
Joel doesn’t recognize the people in most of the photos. One of them is a school photo of a young boy, with Spring ‘03 printed in the lower right hand corner. But the remaining two…he realizes are of you, but you’re young, your cheeks rounder, features not quite as defined. Younger than Sarah, if he had to guess. In both, you’re wearing the same thing – a black turtleneck, a plaid skirt that hangs past your knees, and black Mary Janes. 
In one, you’re cheek to cheek with a teenage boy who you’re giving bunny ears. Your brother. Has to be. You look too similar. His arm is across your shoulders, and you’re smiling so wide your eyes are closed. 
In the other photo, though, your face is blank. A wide, empty stare, straight into the camera. Behind you, his hands on your shoulders, is an older man whose gaze has the same determined set Joel has seen on you before. Something about the photo, the haunted look on your face, makes him feel like he’s seen something he’s not supposed to, and he slides the print underneath a stack of papers.
“If you’re gonna look at those papers, I’m gonna need you to sign an NDA,” you say over his shoulder, and Joel is startled by the sound of your voice, and the feeling of a glass, cold and damp with condensation, being placed in his hand. “Here.”
You peer around his shoulder, face brushing against the side of his arm as you see the photos. “Oh,” your voice drops slightly when you realize what he’s looking at. “My brother sent those. That’s my nephew, Ethan.” You point to the school photo of the little kid, but don’t offer an explanation for any of the others. 
Joel clinks his glass with yours and notices that you’ve balanced a toothpick with two maraschino cherries on its rim. It’s refreshing, delicious, and the fizz tickles his nose as he takes the first sip. 
“Restaurant quality,” he tells you. You lean back against your counter, studying him. When you stare at him like this, as he’s caught you doing a handful of times before, it always makes him feel feral. Like some kind of animal, the way he has to hold himself back from pouncing. You look at him like there’s no one else around, and yeah, there’s no one else around right now, but even when you’re in public, you’ve done it, too. And he doesn’t know how to tell you to stop – he doesn’t really want to. “How’d you perfect the recipe?” he asks. 
“Practice,” you glance at the bubbles dancing through the ice in your glass before focusing back on him, sheepish. “Sarah likes them.”
So you’ve made them for her. Joel sits his drink down. “She does.” 
“Are you hungry?” you ask. “I think I need a snack or something.”
“You don’t have any ice cream, do you?”
“Uhhh…check the freezer?” you say over your shoulder, rummaging through your cabinets for a bowl, and Joel rises to do so. “I think I only have coffee-flavored, though.”
“Good choice,” he answers. His favorite.When he opens the freezer, he’s met with a blast of cool air, a cloud of steam. 
“You have a sweet tooth, don’t you?” you tease, coming to stand next to him, but Joel is too focused on the box of orange popsicles he sees in front of him, and pulls them out to look at the box. “You like these?”
“Not really. I’m partial to cherry.”
“Sarah loves these,” he remarks. 
“Yeah.” 
“I don’t buy them for her anymore, because one time she ate twelve in one day.”
You sniff, grin. “She told me that.”
He studies the drink that you’ve set on your countertop, the box in his hand. “So you bought these for her?”
“Yeah, why?” you cross your arms, almost defensively.
“Are any of the other snacks here just for her?”
“...No,” he can tell you’re lying, and your eyes flick over his shoulder for a second. “Don’t look in that cabinet, though.” 
Joel can’t help the incredulous smile that breaks out over his face. “God, no wonder she’s always over here so much. You’re givin’ her all the junk I don’t let her eat, aren’t you?”
You hold your hands up. “I think she deserves to be comfortable here. Do you want her to starve?”
Joel’s sure he’s staring at you slack-jawed. Not because he’s upset with you, no. It’s quite the opposite. He shakes his head, grins, and starts laughing.
“Don’t laugh at me,” but you’re giggling, too. “It’s not funny.” You reach to swat at him playfully, and something inside him snaps. 
Joel is sick of coming up with excuses to see you. He’s sick of holding you at arms length. He’s sick of not taking what he wants to. He’s sick of pretending he hasn’t thought about you every single day since he first saw you, standing in this very kitchen, leaning over the island and chatting with Sarah. He wants to walk in your front door and know that he can have you however he likes, that he’s allowed to. He realizes if he doesn’t act, he’ll never find out. It’ll eat him alive.
So before you can make contact, he wraps his hand around your wrist, draws you in closer. It catches you off guard, sure, but your eyes are locked, and he sees that you’re not shaken in the slightest.
“You know,” he says. “You’re nicer than you think.” 
The energy in the room has shifted. But it doesn’t seem to phase you, and when he’s this close, he can study every freckle on your face, the color of your eyes – can remind himself, again, though he hardly has to – just how beautiful you are. You lower your arm, and at first – he panics, thinks that you might be pulling away. He’s read it wrong, all wrong. But all your doing is giving yourself a better angle to grip his wrist in kind, hand clasping over his broken watch.
“Keep it to yourself, Joel.” you whisper. And it's supposed to be a joke, but you can't seem to tear your gaze off his lips. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
“I will.” 
Joel kisses you. Hard. It’s like a dam breaking, every time he’s held himself back from you comes barreling forward, and it’s all right there. Everywhere. Overwhelming. But he can't stop. He moves with purpose, cupping your chin. He winds his other arm around your waist, crushing you against him. You taste sweeter than he’d imagined, cherry-flavored syrup lingering on your lips. You groan against him, your head tilting back as he moves in closer, jaw relaxing, lips parting.
It’s just enough for him to slip his tongue inside your mouth, to continue to explore, to claim. The things he’s going to do to you…It could be the weed, but every nerve in his body is on high alert – his skin scorches in the wake of your hands raking up his biceps, tangling in his unruly waves. It could be the weed, or it could just be that good.
More, he wants more, and he’s crowding you back towards the counter next to the fridge. Somewhere, distantly, he hears the freezer door fall closed – and probably not all the way – the ice cream long since forgotten. The moment your back hits the granite, you pull away with a ragged inhale, only enough to look him in the eyes.
“Took you long enough,” One of your hands rises to his face.
Joel presses his cheek into the warmth of your palm. “I thought it might be better to keep you waiting.”
You only shake your head, pulling him back into the kiss. He shifts his weight to hook his hands behind your knees and lift you onto the counter. It’s a bit overzealous, and your head bumps the cabinet behind you, but you don’t seem to notice. Both your legs hook around his hips, drawing him in further. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on just from kissing someone – not even for that long – but it’s just so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. 
But, he’s capable of one rational thought. This can’t be how it happens. You’re worth more than an animalistic fuck on a kitchen countertop. There’s so much more he wants to do that can’t be done here, like this. And…it’s you. You deserve better, although the frustrated noise you let out when he draws back indicates you think the opposite. Another time.
“I’m sor-I-we can’t,” Joel manages. 
Your face drops, you look….almost angry at him. The second he sees it, he realizes what he said was all wrong. “No, I mean we can, we can, just not….not now.”
The anger dissipates, you shift back, but reach out, pushing a piece of stray hair off his forehead and running your thumb along his sharp jawline. “Why not?”
“I just…I didn’t-” he shakes his head and looks down. “I’ve wanted this for awhile now, but….this isn’t…I wasn’t expecting-” Fucking spit it out, you dipshit. “Can I take you out or something first?” 
You don’t answer, just shift forward, your forehead bumping into his chest. Joel he brings his arms around your shoulders despite himself. And then your lips are on his neck, teeth scraping, teasing, working up to his ear, where you whisper. “You don’t have to.”
He fucking has you. He could. So easily. “I want to.”
You pull back, and there’s a split second where he swears you look a little ashamed, and then it vanishes. “You are a romantic.”
“Not entirely…” Joel says. “I just…would rather do things right. For someone I like.”
“Someone you like?”
“Yes.” Obviously. 
“Okay, yeah,” you murmur softly. “I would like that.” 
“Next weekend?” 
“That long?” 
He chuckles. “It’ll be worth the wait.” But you don’t seem convinced. “I promise.”
For a split second his eyes flick over your shoulder to the microwave, and he sees what time it is. “Shit. Shit. I’m sorry. It’s late. Sarah’s gonna be home any minute and if I’m not home-” he pauses, gestures between you. “We shouldn’t uh…we shouldn’t mention this to her. Not for now, at least.” 
“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it,” you shake your head in agreement. 
Joel leans in to kiss you again. This time, he keeps it slow, tender, lingering. Even though he knows he’ll get to see you again, he still finds it hard to tear himself away.
----
part v
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strawhbrrries · 10 months
Text
Hell on Heels.
pairing: rhett abbott x tillerson!afab!reader
summary: you made the devil a deal; he made you pretty, he made you smart and rhett abbott she’s coming after you.
warnings: everyone calls reader ‘honey’, sweet rhett, the tillersons (they need their own warning tbh but i love a good forbidden romance), mutual pining (sorta), unprotected p in v, car sex, a wee bit of fingering, creampie, let me know if i forgot anything, no use of y/n or description of reader, not proofread 
word count: 4.4k words
author’s note: i love rhett abbott and i think this rivals the cowgirl series as one of the best things i’ve ever written. I’m just a sucker for a white man in a cowboy hat. honey is ENTIRELY inspired by the pistol annies so channel them when you read them. I’ve been hyping this up to @thesirenrealm all night so i’m saying my prayers that it lives up! as always, please enjoy!!! mwah!!!!
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“The rodeo ain’t ‘till later tonight.” 
His voice was warm, wrapping you up in a thick blanket and protecting you from the world. A false sense of security, your brother’s had tried to scare you with some bullshit about not trusting the Abbott boys. As if your family was any better. 
“Stalkin’ me, Abbott?” You turned around to face him, the railing of the arena leaving indents on the undersides of your arms, the corners of your lips turning into a smile.
“Luke know you’re out here?” He looked around, almost like he was expecting your brother to pop out of the shadows somewhere and give him shit for even speaking to you, avoiding your question.
“No, and I’m an adult. I can do what I want.” You huffed, annoyed everyone saw you as an extension of your older brother. Even more so that Rhett did, you’d tried so hard to stand out to him.
“He doesn’t see it that way. Why’re you out here?” He inquired, leaning against the railing next to you, squinting his eyes as the sun found its way under his hat
“Space,” you looked over at him, “ I assume that’s why you’re out here?”
“Bingo.” He looked over at you, holding eye contact until you broke it and looked back into the arena in front of you. “Why don’t you leave the ranch if you want space so much, Honey? You’re out here more days than you’re at your own home.”
His observation was a slight stab in the guts, only because he was right. You loved your family, truly, as best as you could while keeping yourself sane. Luke wanted to control everyone and everything, including you and what you did. You were half surprised he hadn’t implanted a tracker underneath your skin, in your car, or downloaded one on your phone. In some ways it could be written off as well meaning, he just wanted to make sure his people were okay. He was just crazy, you knew it. Billy, he was a sweet thing, just never knew when to shut the fuck up. Your dad had gone off his rocker long ago, probably forget he had a daughter due to your absence around the house. 
“And where do you suggest I go, Abbott?” You scoffed at his suggestion, your family might’ve had some money but you’d never seen any of it. Buying a house or renting was out of the question. 
“Quit callin’ me that.” He scoffed right back at you, his eyes never leaving you.
“Fine, Rhett. Answer the question.” 
“I’ve offered multiple times, Honey. It still stands now.” His tone was softer now, more serious. 
You’d ignored him, walked away and got into your car, drove all the way to your house. You wanted to contemplate his offer, wanted to take him up on it but you’d just be intruding on his family’s space. You’d rather act like you only slept at your house before you became a burden to another family. Your phone lit up three times with Rhett’s name on your drive home, probably telling you to think of the offer or maybe asking if you were gonna see him ride later. 
He’d been shocked when you walked away, didn’t say a single thing or make any indication he’d done anything wrong. He was right, he’d offered you a place multiple times before, when he pointed it out he didn’t think he was going to upset you. He knew all about the loyalty you had for your family but he also knew the type of crazy Luke and Wayne were. Some days he wondered if you were ever truly related to them, sweet ol’ Honey. Your sweet demeanor earned you the nickname, you’d had it for years. It could be your real name and you’d know no different.
“Honey. Honey. Honey what the fuck.” Luke was yelling the second you walked in the door, it made you want to turn around. Pick up your phone. Tell Rhett you’d accepted his offer and was on your way.
“Luke, shut the fuck up.” Is all you had to say to him as you walked right past him and into your room, slamming the wooden doors as loud as you could. 
Luke had yelled something in response, you couldn’t give a singular shit about whatever that man child wanted. You balled your fists, shaking them at your door quietly as he continued yelling. All you wanted was some peace and quiet. That’s why you spent so much time down at the showing arena during the day time, nobody else was there. It was deserted. Just you and your thoughts. Apparently also Rhett, not that you minded. You liked Rhett, a lot. He was just the right amount of rugged to contrast the delicate world built around you from being the only daughter. Just the right amount of mean to contrast your sweetness.
Your phone vibrated from its spot in your back pocket, you pulled it out and looked at the name at the top of your screen. Rhett Abbott.
“Honey.”
His voice was soft, just as soft as it had been at the arena, not a hint of annoyance with you. You appreciated that he wasn’t making you feel bad for leaving him hanging, appreciated that the guilt you were feeling wasn’t because of his words. 
“Hey, Rhett. I'm sorry for leavin’ like that I-”
“It’s fine, I shouldn’t have overstepped like that. I just need to know if you’re comin’ to watch my ride.” 
You should’ve given it to him for cutting you off like that, but your sweet heart had a Rhett Abbott shaped soft spot and always had. You listened to him talk like he was preaching the Sunday sermon, like whatever he was telling you would save your life.
“Yeah..yeah I’m comin’.” You flopped back on your bed, imagining where he was and what he was doing. Were his thoughts filled with you? Like yours were of him.
“Good.” 
He hung up and filled you with disappointment, you knew he had to get ready to ride but it didn’t make you any less upset he didn’t have the courtesy to say bye. 
“Bye, Rhett.” You whispered into the air, laying your phone down next to you, staring up at the angled ceiling as your thoughts became overrun with what you’d wear. 
You loved being a girl; loved dressing up and looking pretty, loved the (wanted) attention you got from it, loved the solidarity you got from most other women. Tonight was no exception, the rodeo was your favorite excuse to wear the jeans that hugged your ass in all the right places and the bra that put the girls in the right place to get what you wanted when you wanted it. You didn’t need to dress up to impress anyone, you knew that but god if you didn’t love it. Touching up your hair and makeup was the last thing you did before shoving your phone in your back pocket, walking past whatever screaming fest your brother had found himself in now, and hauling ass to the rodeo. Sometimes, life wasn’t so bad.
“Honey! Over here!” 
Your head snaps to the group of girls calling for your attention, a huge smile immediately lighting up your face as you walked over to join the group. You gave all the girls a hug and a kiss on the cheek before settling in a spot, you hoped Rhett could easily see you in. If it wasn’t your whooping and hollering that would get his attention, it was the cowboy hat he gifted you years ago matched with bright red lipstick. You were sex personified. Hell on Heels. 
He’d spotted you the second you’d walked into the place, watched your hair bounce as you walked and watched the smile that stood proudly every time someone spoke to you. Watched your ass jiggle in the jeans you always wore when you dressed up, he hated them simply because he knew every man you encountered watched you saunter away the same way he did. The cat calling the kettle black. Rhett was many things but he was a dirty hungry man, hungry for all the things Honey Tillerson could offer. He watched you sit with a group of girls he didn’t know, nor did he give a single shit about, and try to get a glimpse of him. Unfortunately, he’d placed himself out of sight. He wanted to admire you from afar without being caught, boy was he glad he did when you started searching for him.
“Here for prince charming Abbott?” One of the girls teased, trying to get a rise out of you.
“Obviously, I don’t support anyone else as fiercely as I do for a man who isn’t mine.” You shot back, rolling your eyes playfully before breaking into giggles to let them know it wasn’t as serious as you’d pretended.
“All I’m sayin’ is, I’d never wait for a man who can’t commit.” You don’t know shit.
“Agreed, I mean I’m sure any Abbott boy is a catch but girl you’ve been pining after this man since grade school!”
You knew the girls were well meaning, just wanting you to go after a man who wanted you more than you wanted him. You’d die lonely before you settled for someone who wasn’t him, it didn’t matter if it took you a hundred years to get him to see you the way you saw him. He already did, you were just oblivious and put it off as some sort of kindness he gave to everyone. Rhett wasn’t the kind man to everyone like he was to you, he couldn’t give a shit if anyone had a place to stay trying to escape their crazy family, but he gave multiple for you. 
“Ash you can’t even talk, your man can’t keep it in his pants. Leave mine alone.” You snapped, feigning niceness despite the venom of your words, tilting your head to the side daring any of the girls to try you one more time. Your sweetness only ran so far before it ran out, they were running it thin.
“God if I was a man, Honey, I’d be knocking down your dad’s door beggin’ him to let me marry you. Scratch that, I’d pay him to let me do it! If anyone supported me like you support Rhett, it’d be a miracle I wasn’t knee deep in kids.” The girl next to you spoke, laying her head on your shoulder as she did so. It felt nice for your support to be noticed by someone. 
“I’ll be next in line in case he turns her down!” 
The girls continued talking about how they’d love to marry you in another life up until the announcer came on to start up the rodeo. The rodeo on a summer night was your favorite place to be. Between the screams of everyone in town coming out to support someone they knew and the lights of the stadium, it filled you with warmth. You only half paid attention to all the bull riders before Rhett, wishing them good luck but not enough that they’d beat your man.
“Everyone stand and welcome our hometown hero! Rhett Abbott!”
You were the first to your feet, yelling louder than you were the last time, making sure he’d see you before his run. He’d whispered to you one night after a run, sneaked to your house to see you and thank you for coming to watch him, that you were his good luck charm. That he searched for you everytime he was getting ready to ride, it was a drunken confession but a true one nonetheless. Ever since that night you made sure he saw you, that he knew his good luck charm was there. Your voice rivaled his parent’s in loudness, depending on the night it was louder.
You held your breath through his entire ride, always scared to death he’d fall and get trampled by whatever bull he was riding that night. He never did. Always came out on top. He was the hometown hero, after all.
“Rhett!” You called after him, running up to him as he exited the ‘Rider’s Only’ area. 
“Honey.” He smiled, scooping you up and twirling you around. It was the most affection he’d shown you, sober.
“Mr. Hometown Hero. Always winnin’, huh?” You teased, matching his smile as you looked down at him. Aware of the fact that he was almost entirely supporting you with one arm, your core just getting a tinge warm at the thought.
“Always, when I got my good luck charm here,” he nipped at your exposed collarbone, “God you are one gorgeous woman. Don’t know how the guys in the stand didn’t maul you before your pretty ass got here.”
“Oh hush, don’t care about ‘em anyway.” You placed a kiss on his cheek, waiting for him to cross the physical boundary of kissing.
He’d been close to it only twice before, once on your birthday and the other on the same night he’d first called you his good luck charm. Both times he’d been interrupted by a knock on a door and the holler of your name.
Your birthday is one you almost kiss you think back on frequently. You’d managed to ditch your family and friends for a few hours, sitting in the passenger seat of Rhett’s truck as he drove you back to your place. You invited him in, no one was home so there wasn’t anyone to tiptoe around. Showed him your room and locked the door. He laid down on your bed, moving onto his side so he could look at you as you laid down.
“Pretty lil thing.” He whispered, tracing a finger from the start of your forehead to the tip of your chin. He used that same finger to get you to look at him. 
The two of you laid there, staring at each other, for a few moments. Admiring the other person. If the rest of your birthday had gone horribly wrong, laying here with him made it all better. 
“Can I kiss you, Honey?” He asked, already running his thumb over your bottom lip. 
“Please, Rhett.” You whined, it was airy and desperate. 
He leaned in, keeping his finger on your chin and pointed towards him, his lips ghosting yours. There wasn’t a centimeter of space between the two of you, 
“Honey? Are you in there? Rhett Abbott’s truck is in the driveway.” It was Billy, the better of your brothers to have been home first. 
“Yeah I'm here! He brought me back and was making sure I was okay!” You scrunched your face in annoyance, pushing Rhett off of you and trying to hurry him out of your room before anyone else arrived home. 
The night he called you his lucky charm was also the night you think you realized that you loved Rhett Abbott, like truly loved him. He’d had his best ride of all season, gotten dragged out to go drink with the other riders when he’d rather celebrate with you. 
You’d gone home slightly disappointed, you understood the other guys wanting to celebrate with him but you also wanted to see him. You weren’t greeted when you got home, not that you cared, but it only added to your disappointment that the people who were supposed to care about you didn’t. Your phone had found its way in the middle of your bed, being left there while you took a shower in some attempt to scrub away the disappointment. When you got dressed and finally picked it back up it read,
3 missed calls from Rhett Abbott
Your face fell, how could you miss these? You clicked on the notification and waited anxiously as it rang, nervous he wouldn’t pick up. 
“Hey, baby.” His voice was loud, he was yelling over whatever commotion was going on in the back. Baby was new. 
“You called?” Your voice barely above a whisper, gnawing on the end of one of your acrylic nails as you awaited his answer. 
“Wanna come see you, see my girl.” His girl.
“My family’s here, you can’t.” Despite the thick walls providing a lot of sound proofing, you couldn’t help but whisper in fear that one of them had a cup to the door listening to your every word.
“I’ll park at the end of the driveway, walk around to your window. Please?” 
“Just…be careful, please.” You smiled softly at the reflection of yourself on the screen, excited you’d be able to see him tonight. 
What felt like forever went by before you heard a soft knock on your window. You unlocked it and pushed them open, leaning over the sill to look at him. 
“Rebellious rebellious Honey Tillerson, what ever will we do with you.” Rhett joked, putting his hands up on the window to hold yours.
“Congrats, Rhett. You did amazing tonight.” You took his hands in yours and smiled down at him, although you could barely see him in the dark. 
“Cause I had you, had my lucky charm, my girl.” His girl. 
Your smile at that moment could’ve lit up the whole sky, the brightest thing he’d ever seen. If he hadn’t forgotten his phone in his truck he would’ve snapped a picture of you, probably would’ve fucked his hand to it later.
“I’ll be there, every time.” You leaned down just as he leaned up, hopeful it’d finally be the moment you’d kiss. You’d be lying if it wasn’t something you dreamed about constantly since your birthday. Your lips were once again, centimeters from each other when a fucking knock on your door rang out. 
“Honey. Do you know where any of dad’s meds are?” Luke’s voice instantly filling you with rage, didn’t anyone in this house have anything to do when Rhett was trying to kiss you.
“No, I’ll help you look.” You yelled back, giving Rhett an apologetic look before closing your window and walking away to go help your incompetent brother.
Now here you were, in Rhett’s arms, inches away from his face. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, that he was gonna feel the excitement and the nervousness spilling out of you. And yet, he didn’t kiss you. He didn’t lean in or pull your face to his. He set you down, he put your feet back onto the ground.
“C’mon, I’m not kissin’ you here.” He read the disappointment written all over your face, grabbed your hand and brought you to his truck. “Because the last thing I need is someone trying to get your attention when it should be on me.”
“And your truck is that much more private?”
“It drives and the doors lock, your family seems to always need you when I do, I’d say it’s a bit more private.” He responded, opening the passenger side door for you and closing it once you got inside.
He got in the drivers side and closed the door, locking the truck and taking a deep breath before he turned to you. 
“Honey, I am going to kiss you. If anyone fuckin’ interrupts me I will become a murderer.” He placed his hand on your cheek, leaned in and placed his lips on yours.
You placed a hand on top of his, just reminding yourself that Rhett Abbott was actually kissing you. He leaned in further, deepening the kiss a bit to test the waters as this was the first kiss the two of you shared together. He swiped his tongue over your lower lip, a small whine escaping the back of your throat causing him to chuckle against your lips. 
“C’mere, pretty girl.” He helped you over the console in the middle and into his lap, his hands caressing your sides before finding their way to your ass. Giving it a nice squeeze, he’d thought about this every damn time you wore these jeans.
“Rhett.” You whined, leaning into him for support. Not because you couldn’t hold yourself up, you simply wanted to feel his hands on you and the strength he displayed earlier when he picked you up.
“What, baby? What? You gotta use your words, you know that.” He whispered, placing open mouth kisses along your neck.
“Need you..”
“Need me to what? Words, Honey, words.” He sucked and nipped at one spot directly under your collarbone, he knew it’d start some shit in the future but at this current moment he had you all to himself. He’d rather be a dead man than not mark you as his, hell he’d fucking carve it into your skin if you’d let him. He’d ask you about it later.
“Need you to fuck me..” You whispered, your skin turning pink at the confession and the lewdness of it all. Rhett wouldn’t be your first, you’d drunkenly hooked up with men before but it was a different kind of need to finally have sex with someone you’d been pining after.
“Was that so hard? I can do that for you. Take real good care of ya. Fuck you six ways to Sunday.” His words turning you an even pinker shade, you didn’t know he could say such dirty things but god if it wasn’t the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you.
Both of your hats were thrown into the back seat as it became a race of who could get their jeans off the fastest, you’d win by a few seconds as your mobility wasn’t limited because of someone else sitting on top of you. Your jeans would soon join the hats in the back, tossed loosely back there to just get them out of the damn way. Sure it would’ve been easier to just fuck back there but the small cramped space of the drivers seat was spurring the both of you in a way you hadn’t before that it didn’t matter where you fucked. You just needed to fuck. Now.
“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this. ‘Bout you.” He confessed, combing his fingers through your hair before smashing your lips back together, giving you no time to think.
Kissing Rhett was nasty, messy, and you loved it. His mouth was on yours, making up for all the times he tried to but hadn’t been successful in kissing you. His hands were roaming your body, caressing the newly naked ass presented to him. He felt like he was fifteen years old ago, seeing a naked body and losing his mind. But he wasn’t fifteen and you weren’t naked, he was losing his mind at the thought of getting you naked. It’d have to wait because he’d become a murderer if anyone else saw you naked from this point on. 
“Thought about you too. Your fingers and how they’d feel inside me, probably so much bigger than mine.” You confessed, taking breaths in between your words, staring at Rhett as he processed what you just told him.
“You are the hottest woman I have ever met, goddamnit Honey.” He groaned in response, sliding your panties to the slide and playing with your clit. “I’m gonna finger you for a second, just stretch you a bit and then I’m gonna fuck you. Okay?”
You shook your head yes and leaned your head against his shoulder as his middle finger slid inside of you. He twisted it occasionally, adding a bit of fun but never letting your orgasm build up. He wanted you to cum on his cock and not a moment before. He slowly added his ring finger to the mix, fucking into you slowly enough to stretch you and be not enough to get off. You wanted to cry when he removed his fingers, no longer feeling the fullness of his fingers, but it wasn’t long before it was replaced with the tip of his cock.
“How bad do you want it?” He teased, pushing just the head in and pulling it back out. Making sure to never let more than his head go inside of you.
“Rhett please, need it. Need your cock, need you to fuck me..” You cried out into his shoulder, gasping loudly when he pushed the whole thing inside of you. “Holy fuckin’ shit..”
He chuckled at your response and kissed the top of your head, waiting just a few moments before he pulled all the way out and pushed himself all the way back inside of you. 
“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He grunted into your ear, slowly starting to move just a little bit faster. “Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours Rhett, shit, yours..”
He seemed satisfy with your answer and braced himself with one hand on the console and the over wrapped around you, fucking up into you like he wasn’t gonna see you again and this was your last night together. His thrusts were hard and deep, you’d felt a fullness you didn’t even know was possible until now, fast and rough. His soft grunts and groans were like music to your ears, adding to the warmth that was slowly building in your belly. The knot was slowly coming together and it was all the doing of Rhett Abbott.
“Shoulda done this ages ago, made you mine, made sure no one else touched you.” He rambled, words spilling out of his mouth at a speed you’d never heard him speak at. “Fuck, gonna make you Mrs. Rhett Abbott, shit baby, this cunt is so fuckin’ warm.”
“Gonna cum, Rhett I’m gonna cum..fuck fuck fuck…” 
“I’m right behind you, baby.”
He quickly brought his hand down to your clit and pushed you over the edge he had you teetering on. Your orgasm milked the orgasm out of him as he fucked you through it, making sure not to change his motions until you moved his hand away from overstimulation. The windows had long fogged up, only lines from your hair moving against them were left unfogged. He relaxed completely in the seat, breathing deeply in an attempt to catch his breath. 
“Holy shit, Honey. Fuckin’ Hell on Heels.”
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caxde · 1 year
Text
uncertainty | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary you are Dustin’s older sister, and you have developed a very confussing attraction to your brother and friend's fiend, Eddie. (3.4k),
warnings fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
this is based on this lovely ask <3 thank you for the request!
“I’m leaving in five!” You screamed up at the staircase, as you heard the hurried steps of your little brother rushing around. 
“I’ll need seven!” He shouts back, voice high in pitch. 
“Now you have four, hurry up!” You plead from downstairs, with a short laugh that escaped your lips as you could picture your little brother going absolutely insane, having overslept once again. 
“Shit, shit. Okay!” 
“Language!” You yelled as you went over the little drawer that held your car and house keys, turning around to pick up your favourite washed up brown leather jacket. Even if your mom kept babbling away about how it wasn’t really that warm, you debated the opposite, having worn it for the last 6 months. Either way it doesn’t really matter what she thinks, she’s not here to tell you anything. 
As you opened the front door you squint your eyes at the bright January sun, it was cold, but once you stood up and the light hitted you, it felt as if you were begging to warm up, waking up with the earth, in a weird poetic way. 
“Thought you were in a hurry.” Dustin teased at you as he looked up at you. 
“I am, come on.” You told him as you teased him back, pushing him a bit so he actually hurries up. “You know, if you actually went to bed when you should” You start saying as you start the car. 
“Oh come on!” He replayed in annoyance. “I did go to bed, you know?” 
“Yeah, at four in the morning!” You yelled back at him, feeling how truely tired you were. “And you know I end up incredibly tired when I have to go to The Hideout and help out Dust…” You try to make him understand. 
“You didn’t sleep?” He asks back, worry on his voice. 
“I did, just…” You looked back at his little brown eyes, true compassion for you, you knew he felt bad now. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just, if you’re talking to Suzie keep your voice low okay big guy?” Your voice calms now, feeling bad for having yelled at him. 
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He replayed softly as he looked down at his feet. 
The car ride stayed silent. 
As you parked the car and got out to help him as you always had, grabbing his backpack for him, and giving him a side hug you smiled at him. 
“Sorry for yelling.” He nodded and started to look out for his friends. “Pick up at five?” 
“Yeah.” He said as he started to leave. You nodded at him as he left. 
You were tired, but you didn’t actually regret helping out at The Hideout, if anything, John was doing you a favour. It was proving to be rather tricky to find another job, since you decided you would rather be full time anywhere else than half time in Family Video, though you missed hanging out with Steve so much, you kept hope. 
And anyways, yesterday ended up being a good night. 
A very good night. 
Might be the fact that he tips had run high, or that John asked you to come again today, or maybe, and if we’re being sincere, it was because Eddie had come over. Granted, it hadn’t been only him, but it didn’t matter, not if you could only see him. 
And maybe it was because your friends had waited for you to finish your shift, and had made it bearable, but again, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew it had been his soft I always like seeing you that had made the night better. 
-
“You shouldn’t trust it.” Robin mocked you once again. 
“She’s got a point.” Steve continued. 
“Oh fuck off you two.” You added, still smiling at them as you did. 
“I’m just saying… I mean, you have a massive, incredible, planet sized crush on the dude, so you should know, like make it so important.” She tried to rationalize with you as her hands flew through the hair as she was talking, which only made Steve laugh even more. 
“Like you have on Vickie?” You tried to tease her back. 
“Hey! Not fair, we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.” She sentenced, as she threw the old kitchen rag at you as you all laughed again. 
“Oh come on, pick on Steve and his crush on Nancy!” You plead as she turned again looking back at him. 
“That was uncalled for.” He said under his breath. 
“Just stating the obvious.” You pointed as you turned around to your oven. 
As the rambling and teasing continued you checked the time once again. You weren’t that late, and still, you always felt anxious you would be. 
Saturday dinners were the only thing that had remained constant through the years, regardless of what was going on, you always found time to see each other, either for a quick sandwich or a full course dinner. 
So it felt nice to see them in your house, teasing you, as they cooked the pizzas from scratch you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of them, remembering how hellish last year had been. 
Your thoughts got interrupted by the doorbell. 
“Is it Dustin?” Robin asked as her head moved to look at you. 
“No, Dust is staying at the Wheelers.” You replayed with uncertainty in your voice. “Were you expecting someone?” You ask, looking at Steve, and you see how the corners of his lips start to curl upwards. 
“I might have invited Munson over…” A smirk appears on his face, and on yours embarrassed rosy cheeks appear.
-
The warm vapor of the tiny dishwasher hits your face, making it hard to breathe for just a second before you step back and let your hands wash the steam off your face. You take a deep breath, it’s only one more hour until close time, and then you would be free to go back home, back to your bed, and if you're honest, back to overthinking. Thankfully, The Hideout was emptying, and as usual, everyone that left said goodbye to you, and you tried to remain cheerful and respond to every one by name. 
“Henderson, we might go too.” Steve yells over the music. As you nod to him you head on to his direction, so you can actually hug him goodbye. 
“We would stay but… It’s getting pretty late, we’re sorry.” Robin adds as she hugs you too. 
“I get it, it’s alright don’t worry.” You replay as you look at both of them, smiling gratefully that they have stayed this long. 
“Actually, I think I’ll stay.” His voice fills you up, low and deep, raspy making your skin tingle. “If you don’t mind.” 
“ ‘Course not.” You add, trying to not sound as nervous as you feel looking at him, his brown eyes locked onto you. 
“O-key then.” Steve adds with a hidden laugh. “See you tomorrow?” You nod as they leave. 
You can’t help but smile as you head back into the bar, feeling his stare onto you, and not only that, but his shy smile too. 
Without even asking, you serve him another beer and he takes it, taking a sip while his eyes shine at you. A quick glance at the clock lets you know that it is now acceptable for you to start cleaning up, letting the couple tables that are still finishing their drinks know that you want to leave, and they seem to get the message once they get up a few moments later. They pay you what they owe you and leave slowly. 
You take your time to actually close the register, and once you look up, you see the long haired boy returning with the tray of empty glasses and bottles. 
“You didn’t have to do that.” You say in a soft whisper, feeling how your cheeks warm up as you do so. 
“I know, but you look exhausted, so…” He tilts his head as he looks down at you. “You go sit, and I’ll clean up a bit, okay?” He continues as he starts to clean the glasses and throws away the empty beer bottles. You smile as you circle back to where he was, and he smirks as he watches you do so. 
You let your body rest, for the second that it does so, you feel the tiredness catching up to you. 
It feels weird, not in a bad sense to have someone taking care of you in that way. Not by anyone, but him. Focused into doing what he has seen you do a thousand times, he even pours you a beer so you can actually relax, but to be honest with yourself, it’s not the alcohol that makes you feel fazed, but him looking at you from time to time as he gives you small smirks and giggles every time your eyes meet. You feel your whole body warming up as he does so, feeling absolutely enamored by the littlest things he does, even the way he pushes his hair away from his face makes you melt a little bit. And still, it just confuses you more and more. 
Conflicted might be a good definition. 
You are aware that you’ve fallen for him, not ashamed of it, you don’t really care if he knows, but you are scared to find out if he feels the same way about you. You can’t help but let your mind wonder, does he? Does he get as fidgety as you do when you walk into a room? Does he daydream about you in the same way that you’ve caught yourself doing so many times? Does he wish that someday your body is pressed against his as desperately as he does every time your hands meet for just a moment? Does he wonder how your lips taste? 
“You okay, love?” He asks. Once you look up to him you feel your thoughts stop all of a sudden, mesmerized by the way his eyes shine at you. It lingers in your brain. lovelovelove. How can someone look so angelic while saying such a silly word, you are not sure. 
“Yeah, I..-” You can’t find any words to continue, his hand had found its way to a wisp of hair that had fallen out of place, and even if his touch wasn’t cold, his silver rings froze at the contact with your cheek as he placed it behind your ear, were it originally was. 
It truly felt like time had frozen, no words invaded that space. For only a second, it felt like your body was weightless, it felt like if you’d cease to exist, you’d be okay doing so with this being your last memory. His eyes shining only for you, locked intensely with yours, it truly doesn't matter what would happen next if you could just remain frozen in this moment. 
But alas, that was just a wish, and time continued to pass. His touch left your skin burning, and both of your faces looked at the ground, trying to understand what that little buzzing you felt was. 
As the night advanced, the little bar was clean, and you were ready to leave, though sad might not be the best way to describe what you felt, it surely came close, feeling so calm next to him, you dreaded being separated again, still not knowing if everything you felt was unilateral. 
You closed the lights, he turned the music off, and even in shadow, his body was as defined as ever, you’d know who it was in any circumstance you noted. What you didn’t seem to see, was how his eyes could not strip away from you, or how his hands longed to touch the skin on your waist for once.
So, as you closed the back door, and flipped back to look at him, he laid it there, with the excuse of making sure you wouldn’t fall given that the floor had begun to freeze over the night. And maybe because you were so focused on the way your heart was beating fast, hard and loud, you didn’t feel that he did the same. 
“Shit.” You murmured as you looked back to the parking lot. 
“What?” He responded, his hand still resting on your back. 
“Steve drove me here! I forgot… I… Shit I guess I’ll just walk-” 
“Fuck off, I’m driving you come on.” He added as he cut you and your rumbling. 
“Edds, I live the opposite way of you…” You whisper once again, making him turn around to look at you, his breath falling onto you, watching it as the cold exposes it. 
“And I don’t care. It’s cold and you get sick easily, you're exhausted and I like being with you, so…” He begins to walk to his van, his hand finally leaving your back, only to open the car door for you. 
-
ilikebeingwithyou
it stays with you, even if it is on the back of your mind, it stays there. 
Even when you had to wait for the van to get warm enough so the engine could start, even when the music was loud and all you did was giggle as he screamed loudly the lyrics of whatever was playing in the background. 
It didn’t matter now, the van was parked and the music had stopped, and his body had turned slowly so he could look at you once again. 
And again, that weird feeling invaded the air, an electricity that seemed to pull you to him stronger and stronger. 
A flashing thought, an image of what could be, if you actually had the nerve to let your hand get lost on the back of his neck to pull him closer to you so that maybe your lips could touch his cheek in a thank you gesture, even if you don’t. 
But he does something that seems to be just as stupid. His hand finds rest on your upper thigh. 
And your eyes look at his rings in an attempt to distract yourself. 
“Thank you…” Your voice comes out soft, and slow as your eyes travel up to him. Slowly. 
“You… yeah. You’re welcome.” He’s becoming flustered now, his words tangling as he readies for you to leave, but you can’t seem to go yet. 
“What?” You asked as you smiled at him, a tired comfortable smile. 
“Nothing. I just like being with you. You make it all better I guess.” 
Your wordless. As your cheeks get warm and your lips curl upwards, your face looks through the windshield astonished at his words. 
“Do you wanna…?” 
He nods as he opens his door, rushing to yours. 
-
3 am
Time had seemed to pass quickly as you too shared the downstairs couch, at times in comfortable silence, most of the time in unimportant conversations, much preoccupied by what your heart and body was feeling. The warmth his body emanate, now wearing only a black distressed old T-shirt, that let his arm tattoos show, not only that but his muscles seem to flex from time to time, and if you hadn’t been so distracted by his charming simple while he teased you you’d realized that they did so every time your body moved closer to him, in a nervous reflex. 
Deep down you know, even if you’re not aware of it just yet, that this might be as intimate as you’ve ever been with anyone. Sex and physical intimacy had nothing against this, seeing him giggle as you talk deep into the night, whipping tears of laughter away from his eyes, as his hand rested once again on your thigh. 
Might be the late hour of the night, the dizziness from the lack of sleep or the tipsy thoughts that the beers that you had downed, but you meet his touch, lazily stroking his fingers with your hand, playing with his cold rings. When you are not looking, he lets himself be truly mesmerized by you. 
“You seem like you want to say something.” He says, voice low and soft, because let’s face it, it would be ridiculous to speak aloud when it’s only the two of you in your empty house. You feel as his face softens when your eyes look back at him. 
“I do.” 
“Then say what you need…” He encourages, slowly. 
“I’m embarrassed, actually.” You confess in a soft smile, letting your head rest on the back of the couch. His body scooches closer. 
“Oh, come on… Please, love?” lovelovelove. He knows what this stupid pet name makes you feel, you’re sure of it. 
“You confuse me. A lot.” You finally say to him, your eyes darting around his face, as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his unoccupied hand goes to his head, as his arm rests on the same back of the couch. 
“I confuse you?” He repeats in disbelief, almost sounds as he is teasing you. 
“Yeah, you do.” You admit, your fingers playing anxiously now as your sight avoids him and is instead focused on his rings. 
“Well, then… Ask.” He says confident, approaching you even more. Your body in his direction, knees touching, the grip that he has on your thigh grows deeper. 
“What?” 
“Whatever you wanna know.” 
You take a deep breath, as your hands whip your face, preparing you for the embarrassment that you most certainly will feel after you finally open up to him. 
“Do… Um…Do you like me?” 
“Wha- What?” He sounds shocked, and your face becomes red. 
“Forget it, please…” You say, a pleading look on your face as you look back at him. His face, while it is still soft, is focused on you, his eyes that are usually brown appear black as his iris has invaded the whole space, though that happens every time he looks at you, you hadn’t realized until now. 
“No, please… I… What do you mean?” 
“Shit, okay.” You breathe in, deeply, deciding for one to be brave for once, and to accept rejection if it comes to that. “I like you Eddie. I really do. Not because you are good-looking and all that physical nonsense, but because you make life brighter… I… Fuck… I’m sorry I just… I really like you and I just don’t know if this feeling goes both ways.” You admit, all in one breath, darting between his eyes, his lips parted halfway and your hands that are now under his grip, a warm touch, a spark or maybe a tingle on them. 
“You do?” He asks.
“Fuck, yes Eddie…” You admit, embarrassed and frustrated. “If you’re gonna make fun of me just… forget it okay?”
“Love.” He stops you from continuing rambling. “Why do you think I call you that?” You look back at him, shocked now. “I am in love with you. I don’t just like you. I love everything you do. The way you care so deeply about everyone, and how you would give everything you have to give to someone else just so they’re okay. I love how you look when you’re exhausted, ‘cause you get that cute smile trying to make it not obvious. I love when you get flustered, and I love when you let me take care of you ‘cause that’s all I wanna do… I…” You’re both smiling so bright it feels like you’ve just discovered what colour means. “Can I just… Can I just kiss you?” He says as his hand finally leaves his head, to approach your face. 
“Please.” You say in return. Begging to finally feel his lips onto yours. 
His fingers tuck away your hair behind your ear, letting them rest on the back of your neck. The other one remains on your leg, his hand deepens the grip that it had on it, a soft moan only from that is already escaping your mouth. He comes closer as you both close your eyes, seeing him smile before you do so. And as soon as his lips finally meet, your fingers intertwined with his, as the kiss deepens and it all feels exactly as you wished it did, soft, deep, careful at first, needy in the end. It feels like you’re both air at the other was drowning. It is sweet, and it doesn’t stop.  And it won’t stop for as long as you’re together, you finally feel as though you got your answer. He doesn’t like you, he loves you, and you can’t wait to love him back.
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miasbby · 11 months
Text
indefinitely ours.
(teacher!reader x teacher!Ellie x Abby)
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summary : You're not willing to date nor looking for anyone, but Ellie Williams, the art teacher working in the school that hired you a year ago, is making you seriously doubt that decision. With her flirting, praises and constant touches, you're all but ready to give up and ask her out. That is, until you meet her girlfriend, Abby, who to your greatest shock seems very… curious about you.
word count : 7.2k (sorry)
note : this is my first fic in the tlou fandom ever, so it'll hopefully be good and i hope the characterization is okay! i wrote this to practice writing shorter fics and failed.... it probably won't get a part 2 but who knows!
warnings : smut with a bit of plot, female anatomy reader, occasionally mean!ellie and mean!abby but they love you<3, light objectification, degradation and exhibitionism, mention of anal, alcohol use and light intoxication, sub!reader, consent is respected but there’s a few bold moments, bit of a housewife kink, crying from overstimulation, threesome.
●○●○●○●○●○●
An ordinary life is not what most aim for, but you have to be honest in that regard: there’s nothing you’ve craved to achieve more than the simple peace of life, a peace often found in modesty yet sought in extravagance. 
The primary school you joined last year has fulfilled that goal in more ways than one, allowing you the safety of a job you spent years dreaming of, a kind group of colleagues that have befriended you ever since you first arrived, and a class made up of the most adorable group of pupils, all eager to learn and earn the good graces of their favorite teacher judging by how the blue of your classroom’s walls are now entirely hidden by drawings. It’s on the outskirts of the city, in a cute area where prices had not soared just yet when you first bought a house, and the neighborhood couldn’t be more welcoming. 
Your time is well-spent: between preparing lessons, finding original ideas to keep a hyperactive group of six years old entertained, taking care of the renovations your new house still requires, and caring for a vegetable garden you did not expect to grow so well, it’s safe to say that you don’t have much time left for anything else, and that includes a relationship. You haven’t been looking, really, happy to settle down on your own until life picks up a slower rhythm and to make friends rather than losing yourself in back and forths. Your previous relationships were never particularly fulfilling and often ended up being on and off until you got tired of the uncertainty. You’re done with all of that. 
The only person that could make you doubt the choice of celibacy, however, currently has her back turned to you, rummaging through a tiny box of chalk sticks on her desk. The kids are out at lunch and you know she tends to eat on her own in here instead of the break room where all of the teachers often meet up. Of course, you only chose to come get her because she’s been a good friend, not because of any ulterior motive…
“Planning to stay hidden in there for long or are you going to come out and eat?”
Ellie doesn’t even appear startled and you wonder if she could somehow sense your presence by the door. She throws the tiny, useless pieces in the trash, reminding you to filter through your own box of it, and turns to face you with that eternally smug smile, leaning back against the side of her desk. It’s a mess, but that’s not surprising coming from Ellie. Whether it’s because she’s the art teacher in charge in the school or because that’s simply in her nature, you’re not sure, but you know to no longer be shocked by the sight of paper and paintbrushes thrown randomly on her desk. 
“Planning on distracting me for much longer or is that gonna stop at some point?” she answers back. “You can’t come in here looking like this and seriously expect me to think of lunch.” 
And that is exactly why Ellie is making you reconsider your opinion on dating. 
If it weren’t for the constant light flirting you still don’t know how to read into, you think that handsomely sweet face would have convinced you anyway. It’s not that Ellie is your style, it’s that you’re convinced no one on this planet could be more attractive to you. Today’s look isn’t helping either: that opened cargo shirt barely hides the simple white tank top she must own in four identical copies and doesn’t do much to conceal the tight, sculpted lines of her arms, blues veins running down to paint-stained fingers. 
Oh, if only you could stop thinking about how they’d feel dipping into the heat spreading from your clit down to your entrance, filling an emptiness that rings between your legs as much as it does in your heart. Unfortunately, such luck cannot be granted to you. Not yet, and perhaps not ever. 
“You’re not flattering yourself out of coming with me.” You slide your hand down to the doorknob and motion for Ellie to follow you out, but she shakes her head, grabbing her phone in the back pocket of her jeans.
“Sorry,” she says, smile dropping with hesitation before she continues. “The girlfriend forgot her lunch at home and I’ve gotta go get it for her. But I’ll see you tonight, we’re still grabbing drinks with the team, right?”
You blink, cheeks straining from the efforts required to keep your smile up even as it turns dishonest, and try to make sense of the word she just uttered, any heat in your belly extinguished by an ice storm. Did she say girl friend or… girlfriend? Why would anyway refer to their friend that way, though… Stop lying to yourself, you got the meaning right on the first try. 
Your heart does not break per se, but it skips a few beats you’re incapable of missing. In the few months you got to know each other, Ellie never mentioned a girlfriend nor did she introduce anyone to you. 
Well, there goes your only temptation for a relationship. Celibacy it will have to be.
“Of course. See you tonight.”
If Ellie notices the light dim in your eyes, she doesn’t show. 
That evening, you hesitate until the very last second about going home and finding a new show worth obsessing about or going out as promised. Ellie doesn’t give you much of a choice, however, when she shows up in your classroom right after the last student filters out with his father and pulls you out of your seat, refusing to take no for an answer. 
(If it’s the request that convinces you or the strong hold she has on your wrist, you’re not sure. But you still let her tug you to your car anyway.)
The ‘team’ as referred to earlier consists of five other teachers whose classrooms are all sharing a hallway with yours and with whom you spend your Friday evenings in a local beer bar next door, a place Ellie first dragged you all into when you were still relative strangers, to celebrate your arrival. Your usual table is free when you arrive, Mel and Ellie right behind you, and you suppose a beer might be the best way to forget about your stupid little crush and the shame eating at your insides for having taken friendly banter as flirting for months now. 
Overall, the night is fun, and after a few well-placed jokes at your expense, you finally manage to leave what happened earlier behind and enjoy yourself. Unfortunately, whatever superior being out there who’s decided you should, after a year of knowing each other, finally get to know all about Ellie’s girlfriend, is not on your side today. 
“Oh, hey Abs!” Mel waves behind where you and Ellie sit, still somehow pressed up against each other, and your friend immediately brightens up, turning around to face someone. “Have you finally decided to join us? I thought you’d never leave that work of yours for even one night a week.”
“Maybe next week if she forces me to come.” The woman comes into view and immediately rests a hand on Ellie’s shoulder, smirking down at her before her eyes travel to you and stay locked onto your own for one second too long for it not to feel somehow… knowing. “But nah, I only got here to take Ellie home. I bet she drank too much to drive and that none of you would have been able to convince her not to take her car.”
Mel laughs, joined by the others, and even you have to agree on that. Ellie is particularly stubborn on the average day, but she gets even worse after three beers and a few shots. 
“I’m fine, come on… I could drive on my own, a few beers have never killed me.” 
The problem is, she says that while stretching an arm over the booth seat, enveloping your shoulders and tugging you closer to her side, and the only explanation for doing that in front of that literal goddess-looking muscle-paradise girlfriend of hers has to be the alcohol. ‘Abs’ raises a curious eyebrow but her smile never dies, and you look away to focus on the bottle clutched in your hand, guts turning into a mix of nervousness and shame that does not blend well with alcohol.
Abby stays around for a bit. The whole time, her eyes remain on you, taking in the features of your face, sweeping over your figure and translating what you would interpret as unabashed attraction if it came from anyone else. It’s like she’s trying to memorize your face, your body, your soul. Like she means to lay an invisible mark on your heart you’ll feel with every beat, right next to the one Ellie has unconsciously placed there long ago. 
The arm only leaves its place on your shoulders when who you now know as Abby urges Ellie to go, and you leave soon after, sitting in the dark of your car for five minutes before your head clears enough for you to drive. 
That was… definitely something. But you could unfortunately not explain what in any way.
-
The next time you see Abby does not offer any sort of clearer explanation as to why the mood always seems odd around you and Ellie, and particularly so when she’s there with you. 
She comes around for drinks for the first time in months the following week and turns your offer to change seats down, seemingly fine with sitting next to you, her girlfriend on your other side. Her presence warms the hearts of everyone around the table but yours, stressing you out beyond sanity. You know you didn’t do anything wrong and that it’s probably a good thing that you learned of Ellie’s seemingly very joyful and fulfilling relationship now rather than after an attempted kiss or a date proposal. Yet, you cannot help but feel unsure around her - like she knows, like she can read through your heart and flick through its pages until its secrets have been bared. 
Abby never talks to you nor mentions you in her conversations, yet, she’s always got an eye trailed on your figure, always silently insists on you being aware that you’re taking all of her attention. 
And Ellie, well… Ellie has not changed, and that’s probably where the actual problem lies. 
She still smiles at you with that signature smugness you know is only reserved for her girlfriend. She still flirts and teases and touches, still makes comments about how prettily you blush and how well that shirt fits you and you never know what to answer to any of those things. This time again, one of her arms is spread over your shoulders, her fingers fiddling with the fabric of Abby’s shirt on your other side, and if anyone were to look, they’d probably think you’re dating either of them - if not both. 
Your thoughts are interrupted by her voice, and you almost let go of the glass of water you requested earlier when its now familiar murmur tickles your ear. “I like this skirt. Is it me you got it for? I’m sure Abby would like it just as much.”
Poorly disguised shock shines in your eyes but Ellie appears unphased, not even bothering with a glance at where her girlfriend listens to Mel vent about a fight between two of her students. You clear your throat, avoiding the heaviness of her stare, and shake your head timidly, scared to voice out your thoughts or to be heard. The fabric isn’t anything short per se, but it rode up your thighs through the night, and you’re suddenly far too aware of where Abby’s glances might have led to earlier. Ellie’s only response is a chuckle. 
You think that’s the end of it but that’s without counting on the end of the night - when everyone leaves but Ellie insists you stay around some more, and Abby doesn’t show any interest in moving away, her thighs spread and pressing you further into Ellie. The arm behind your back moves and this time, you can’t control the way your body jumps when she places a hand just above your knee, stroking the tight fabric of your skirt. 
“So,” you begin, trying to break the silence. “How long have you two been together?”
Abby takes a swing of her beer and your eyes follow the bulging muscle of her biceps until Ellie reminds you of her presence by patting your thigh affectionately. “Three years now. We met when Abby came around the school to renovate the gym with her crew and ended up moving in two months later. She’s a carpenter.”
“Oh,” you exclaim, interested but also still very much nervous. “That’s definitely helpful to have around at home. How long have you been doing this for?”
It’s the first time you address her directly and the kindness you’re met with feels almost surprising. You don’t think you would be kind to someone your girlfriend is two inches away from touching inappropriately right under your nose, but you suppose you should be glad that’s the case here. 
“Ever since I was a kid, really. Being a carpenter didn’t exactly fit my father’s plans but he always encouraged me anyway when I saw how much fun I had fixing things and building my own. What about you? What got you to into teaching?”
Tension leaves your back altogether when her answer reflects the smile perched on her lips and the mirth shining in her eyes. “Children, really. It started with babysitting and then all I could think about was teaching.”
Abby’s eyes dip down to your lips. “That’s cute.”
“I told you she’s adorable,” Ellie interrupts. “And beautiful too, isn’t she? I knew she’d be your type.”
Your lips part to speak but before a protest can slip past them, Abby nods, smile turning almost predatory. “I’d say she’s your own just as much. You’ve always liked your girls a bit innocent.”
“I’m not-”
“Can you blame me, though?”
Abby pretends to think for a second and gets that knowing look again, reading through the blush spreading up to your ears and the fast ups and downs of your chest in ways you fail to understand yourself. Everything’s going too fast, like a ball bouncing from one side of the court to the other, and it suddenly feels like they’re discussing you, praising you, without even including you in the conversation anymore. 
“No. I think I understand.”
Ellie chuckles, inching her hand higher up on your lap, and she allows the silence to persist for a moment longer before standing up to order another round for you. Abby never looks away. You’re still trying to comprehend what just happened, still failing to make sense of why your friend’s partner is staring at you like she’s considering the interest of throwing you over the table dirty with food crumbs and alcohol spills and flexing those fingers inside of your cunt instead of playing with the tip of her bottle. 
“Oh, you’ve got some crumbs here,” Abby says, eyes flicking down to wear your shirt wraps tightly around your chest. You follow her line of sight, wondering how that could be when you didn’t eat any of the fries they ordered earlier, and find nothing. “Here, I’ll get them off for you.”
Before a word of gratefulness can echo between the two of you, your lips part in shock, a hand positioning itself right above your breast and arching a curious eyebrow, staring into the depths of your eyes. There’s no hesitation in the action, but rather a sort of anticipation you find yourself trapped into. “Is this alright?” she asks, the “Yes,” out by your lips before you can even make sense of what she means.
Deep down, you know what it means. Deep down, you’ve got a feeling Abby might have been familiar with you far before your recent introduction. 
Once your agreement has been voiced, Abby startles you, immediately aiming for your right breast and gripping it with the whole length of her palm. A thumb rubs at soft skin only hidden by the light fabric of your shirt, almost transparent, not thick enough to act as a proper barrier, and you can feel it all - the heat of her hand, its roughness, how it’s thick enough, big enough to effortlessly envelop all of one breast.
It’s the first time her eyes have moved away from the trance they had yours stuck into, her stare dipping down to where she pretends to rub at your shirt, only reminding you of the absence of a bra to truly cover you. Your nipple hardens under her palm and that seems to be the goal because her hand changes sides, repeating the process, teasing and rubbing, the cotton fabric too rough for the sensitive little bud. Your thighs rub against each other, failing to get any sort of release from the pressure burning your cunt, hips almost bucking in a silent plea to be filled up by those very same fingers.  
Abby smiles, still kind, still honest, and shifts her hand only to roll it between two fingers, pulling a wet moan from your lips you fear the people behind you might catch. “See, that’s better now, isn’t it?” And just like that, she pulls away, hand settling back around her beer, leaving you to deal with the wetness soaking your underwear and the blush heating your face, shining like a broken christmas light. 
“Y-yeah.” It’s odd that you even manage to speak when flames circle hardened nipples, driving you into unknown depths of desire, but you’re proud to say you at least manage a coherent sound. “Thank you.”
When Ellie comes back, conversation follows a course far more normal, and if it weren’t for the hooded eyes, the pulsing heat, and the hand claiming its spot back on your lap, you’d think you hallucinated all of the tension. 
The state of your underwear when you strip down before a shower later that night, however, is all the proof you need. Yet, you fail to truly comprehend what happened. The innocence that almost shone in Abby’s eyes as she touched you is impossible to make sense of, and the next morning, you’re no longer sure of what her intentions truly were.
Did she mean to tease you like Ellie has been doing - as a friend, a friend who has a pretty interesting definition of the word platonic but a friend nonetheless? Or was this more? 
You’re not sure, but if anything, you won’t be the one to bring up the question just yet. 
-
Ellie and Abby are coming over to your house to help with the endless renovations you’ve been making. And no, it wasn’t your idea. 
You’ve been avoiding thinking about Abby and how she’s just as illegally fine as who you already considered to be the hottest woman alive, and although ignoring Ellie is impossible, you at least made some progress this past week with accepting the flirting as some meaningless fun. When you complained about the difficulties you’ve been having with painting the ceilings of two rooms and fixing the guest room bed, however, Ellie suggested that they come over to help and, well, how could you turn down such a nice proposal?
That’s how you end up watching them by the kitchen’s window as they relax around a glass of iced tea in the garden, cheeks stained with light grey paint and arms bared, water running in the sink and acting as the background noise to your current fantasies.
The mind owns a power the heart only dreams of having, capable of eternal wanderings uncontrolled by even the strongest wills. 
Yours has not resisted purposeless dreams. Dreams that once involved Ellie, a sweet craving for what could perhaps come to exist in the realm of reality - a craving for late-night guitar sessions and paintings in bold colors, for rough palms to sculpt your heart into submission and teasing smirks wiped away by kisses. Dreams that now involve someone else, a person you have yet to truly understand but who seems to perfectly fit a puzzle from which you did not believe a piece lost. Her body rings with a rigidity that’s a lot more pronounced, yet her heart appears softer, willing to lead you further into the depths of a euphoric swamp. 
A blurry motion startles you out of your thoughts and you blink to find the water is still running, the time still passing. Ellie is waving at you and Abby is staring with a raised eyebrow of curiosity. 
You smile, waving back, and turn off the tap. 
Fantasies are just that, unfortunately. You’ll have to make do with your imagination because it seems Abby isn’t intending on repeating what you’re getting more and more convinced was meaningless teasing anytime soon.
-
They spend the next weekend at your house too, fixing broken cupboards and a tall wardrobe you couldn’t figure out how to close fully, helping with the garden and any heavy objects you need to move around. 
It comes to a point where you decide that if you can’t have either of them, then dreaming is fine. The only problem is that you end up doing that a lot, and getting caught is inevitable. 
“Could I borrow your shower?” asks Ellie once the day reaches its end, the sun freefalling on the horizon. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.” Abby has fetched a chair for the same reason but you know how much Ellie like to sit beside you. Her girlfriend’s presence has not stopped the oncoming stream of cuddles she requires from you, and you’re more than happy to be held, touch-starved since the end of your last relationship. 
“Sure. I’ll get the food ready.”
You stand from the couch to head for the kitchen but before you can disappear, Ellie grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it up, revealing a glistening, tight stomach in what feels like a slow motion to you but is surely a very normal pace for anyone else. The fabric slides off her shoulders and gets thrown straight to Abby’s face but your brain is in no way capable to register anything but newly revealed skin and soft curves hidden under a white sports bra. 
“Feel free to join me,” she adds, teasingly, and you know it has to be directed at Abby who, it seems, is just as affected as you are judging by the darkened gaze she keeps directed at Ellie, but if that’s the case, then you cannot explain why Ellie is staring right at you as she says it before turning around and leaving for the bathroom. 
It’s that gaze you see once they’re gone that night, writhing on top of your bed, covers thrown to the floor and pillow wet with your spit. It’s that gaze encouraging a second, then a third finger to fit into your cunt, the pressure too much yet so far from what you wish for, from how well you know they would both fill you, breaching past undesired tightness and taking all that you’re willing to give. 
And it’s their voices, blended in as one, whispering praise into your ear and urging you to let go when you finally fall over the edge, tears pooling in your eyes and teeth aching from the marks they’ve left in that poor pillow. 
-
“You know,” you begin, words not slurring but speech clearly affected by physical exhaustion and beer. “I thought you were flirting with me before you suddenly mentioned your girlfriend.”
A chuckle greets you, but you can’t tell if it comes from Abby or Ellie, both of them cuddling on the couch in front of you as you lay on the fluffy chair you bought for decoration purposes but that’s actually pretty amazing to use when sleepy. The night has fallen and you spent a lot of time in the garden today while Abby watched over you and Ellie finished with painting touch-ups, explaining the tiredness numbing your arms and the effects of the alcohol. 
Your eyes remain closed and you shift around when air tickles the bottom of your stomach, your shirt having ridden up to reveal skin. 
“What if I was?” and this time, you know it’s Ellie - sure, because it sounds like her, but also because she’s the one who likes teasing you the most. 
You huff, internally rolling your eyes. “With a girlfriend like Abby, trust me, you were not. You’d be dumb to flirt with anyone else or want to kiss anyone else,” you say, voice barely above a murmur. That second beer should not have been handed in your hand, but Ellie has always been a bad influence and Abby drinks them with little effort. Slowly, you half-whisper, “Bet her lips are so soft.”
Abby laughs this time, reminding you of her presence, but you’re too far gone to care. “I think yours would put up a great fight in a contest,” she says, the smile evident in her voice. “Maybe even win, who knows. I know I wouldn’t mind trying you out.”
“Hey!” Ellie interrupts, “I get to try her out first. I found her. You would want me first, wouldn’t you?”
It takes a while for you to register the question and understand you’re being spoken to. “I think I want the both of you… together.”
Someone’s breath hitches, but you fall asleep before you can find out whose. 
All you remember the next morning is strong arms holding onto the back of your thighs and your back carrying you up the stairs, a pair of sweet lips leaving a kiss on your forehead, and the throbbing traces of a hand on the naked skin of your stomach. 
That must have been a fairly nice dream. 
-
You’re in the kitchen when things truly take a turn you did not expect to happen in reality, breaching the realm of fantasies and fully stepping into your life - your peaceful and joyful life that, as you will soon come to realize, was actually missing two precious souls to reach the desperate form of completion you sought. 
Abby is drying the dishes you’re washing and Ellie is… well, she’s simply being herself, avoiding any sort of chore and whistling in the living room as she chooses what movie you’ll all be watching tonight. The mood has been particularly tense today and this time, you’re glad to say it’s not your fault. Abby has been especially attentive to you, asking about your day, your past, and the shape you imagine your future to take, casually exchanging indecipherable looks with Ellie. They’re more than familiar with your house now yet they’ve never acted more like strangers scared of trespassing. 
If you didn’t know better, you would think of them as almost… afraid. 
Fortunately, the tension left as soon as night fell and you all settled back into soothing habits. At least, that’s what you think, until a shadow looms over your back, blocking the naked lightbulb from shining light on the last plate in your hand, and you realize that Ellie isn’t as busy as she made it out to be. 
“Dinner was great, thanks for preparing all of it again,” she says, supporting her weight with one hand on the countertop and the left one innocently resting on your hip. Her touch is welcomed and familiar, her palm cupping the curve to perfection. “Anyone ever told you you’d make the perfect little wife?”
You chuckle, rolling your eyes although you know she won’t be able to see it. “If that’s truly the case, there’d be a lot more people pilling up at my door, or at least one person. I think you two are just terrible cooks in desperate need of a chef.”
Abby shakes her head, nudging you with her elbow as she wipes water from a pack of forks. “You’re not wrong in thinking we’d wife you up in an instant if you wanted, but not because you’d be a great chef.”
“Yeah,” Ellie agrees, flexing her fingers where they rest on your hip. “I can think of a few other reasons. You’d be an amazing mother, for one, and you’re far more patient than either of us deserve.”
“And you’re ready to put up with her stubbornness, so a perfect match, really.” Abby’s comment makes you laugh but Ellie speaks again before you can tease her about her own issues with never doing as told. 
“All of that, and I even bet you’d be such a pretty little thing to fuck.” Your hands freeze on where you’ve just put the plate away, tension seizing unready muscles. You blink, staring by the window, the night turning it into a mirror and reflecting the shock wild in your eyes. For a second, you’re convinced to have misheard. But the silence that follows tells the opposite story. Ellie’s close, suddenly, closer than she was before, and Abby’s hands have stilled as well, her body tight with stress. “I feel like we didn’t thank you properly for all the meals you’ve prepared for us. What do you think, Abby?”
At the edge of your vision, you can sense that Abby has given in and glances at you from the corner of an eye, the sound of her breathing audible, loud. “I think she very much likes politeness, and… it would be rude not to give back after taking so much, wouldn’t it?”
“Right. And what about you, um?” The hand on your hip slowly slides closer to your front before drawing back, again and again, in what feels like a maddening caress. “Do you think we should thank you? Together, I mean.”
Later, you’ll have more than enough time to consider just how stupid it was for you, at that precise moment, to doubt the true meaning behind Ellie’s suggestion. There’s a part of you that yearns for this to be real, for it to feel real, but that part cannot be allowed to exist because it is directly connected to a risk of disappointment you’re not sure you would survive. So, when you reply a breathy little, “Yes,” you don’t actually expect what follows. 
“Good girl.” 
A whine spills past your lips but the reason behind its existence is blurry - is it the praise, vibrating through your lungs and soaking your cunt, or is it the hand that fully slides against your front, rubbing at the seam of your jeans frustratingly right above your heat, the other suddenly palming the curve of your ass and roughly kneading skin? You think you’ll never know for the first moan, but the next one is inevitably due to the second pair of hands finding a place to have some fun of their own. 
“I can feel how soaked you are already,” Ellie says, tone teasing, taunting and forcing past your defenses. “Are you sure you didn’t expect this to happen? How often did you fuck yourself wishing it was us, hmm, pretty girl?”
You think that question should not require an answer, mostly because you’re incapable of giving any, incapable of getting that brain of yours to think and function properly. But Abby doesn’t seem happy with your silence, and she finally decides to remind you of her presence. 
“We asked you a question, sweetheart.” Her voice startles you and your head turns to face her, your heart soothed by the admiration and the awe and the desire reflected in usually tight features. She’s smiling, not that usually kind expression but one that’s almost amused, and you realize you’re in serious, serious trouble with these two. Two fingers seize you by the chin, pushing it upward, and a thumb rubs at your bottom lip. “How empty did you feel thinking about how good we could take care of you?”
“I- I didn’t-” Ellie’s nails sink into the flesh of your ass, reprimanding, and Abby tuts, shaking her head disappointedly. 
“It’s alright,” she adds. “You can be honest with us. There’s not a single time we fucked since you started working here that we didn’t think about you, about how complete you’d make us.” And you’re going to process that at some point, but now will not be that time. Not when she continues to speak, stealing any hope for coherency from under your feet. “We’ll take care of you now, though. Come on, Ellie, don’t be a tease.”
Ellie hesitates, hands still, fingers flexing. They stare at each other with blazing heat in what you think could be a fight for dominance you’re not sure to make sense of when they could just take out all of that on you. 
“You better beg for it.”
When the gearwheels begin to roll again, you lose all sense of reality. 
It’s like they both observed you for months, like they figured out what button to push and with how much strength, what you love and what you’re too ashamed to admit you need. Chills of shame erupt on your arms at the idea, worsened by how smoothly Ellie works your body. 
“Let’s get these off you,” she mutters, lips hovering right next to your nape, inches away from a kiss. “You won’t be needing them around us anymore.”
There’s possessiveness in her words and there’s possessiveness in how fast she slips the button of your jeans off and tugs on the material, slowly, as if to admire what is finally hers to worship and use as she deems fit. Abby growls, watching with a well-trained eye as the tight fabric slides over your ass, and her hand moves down to press against your throat, keeping your back shamefully arched, ass raised for their eyes to feast onto. Your pants end halfway down your thighs, and you have to say there’s nothing surprising about Ellie’s eagerness to get to the source of her desires, hot between your thighs. 
“Abby told me I’d love your ass. Guess she wasn’t wrong.” You expect your underwear to follow next but she decides not to bother with that. “Ever gotten fucked there before, or are you keeping that tight little hole for when we decide to use it?”
“N-never, I- I don’t-”
Abby sighs, shaking her head warningly. “Ellie… focus.”
“Right, sorry. We’ll keep that in mind for another time, you’re ours now anyway, aren’t you? Our pretty little toy.”
You’re all but ready to cry when fingers slides into the front of your underwear, familiar roughness perceptible in the actions, immediately drenched in your desires. Your cunt aches, your core throbs, and your nipples harden. A cocktail of needs that can only be sated by much more than what you’re given. Efficient fingers part your folds before expertly reaching that little bud of sensitiveness at the top of your mound, circling it, pinching it, driving you crazy with it. 
But that’s not what truly seals the first release of the night. That only comes when Abby decides to fully join in on the fun. 
Fingers unbutton your shirt until it parts to reveal the pale pink bra that matches the current dark pink of your panties, only abandoning your neck until the offending lace has been pushed right under your breasts and returning to its hold. You think Abby’s going to kiss you, for a moment, but she’s only reveling in the hot puffs of air slipping past your lips and trying to swallow down the guttural moan that vibrates in your throat when Ellie decides she wants to take the next step.
The hand that had for now been palming your ass travels closer to your center and tugs flimsy fabric out of the way carelessly. You’re not given a warning when the first finger breaches past your entrance, only the sound of Ellie spitting on her fingers for unnecessary lube and that feeling of needing frustratingly more. A whine lodges itself at the back of your throat, and they both laugh, only turning your frustration worse. 
You want to move and fight back, tell them you’re more than capable of taking charge yourself. But there’s something about being treated as a toy meant to receive pleasure, about being admired and taken and praised, about that second finger joining the first and filling the tightness of your cunt, that forces you into a soothing form of submission, allowing every touch and taking them willingly. 
Abby palms at one breast, rolling a nipple under the strong surface in a touch that translates all of her strength. “Is that blush for us, pretty thing? You’re gonna come all over her hand like a good slut already, aren’t you?”
And, it’s cruel, but of course you do. 
Ellie flexes her fingers, increasing the speed of her arm. You can’t see it, but you know veins must shy prettily all over her forearm and biceps must be bulging from the tightness required to fuck you like she does now - like she wants to pull orgasm after orgasm from your core until you no longer understand what it means not to feel the maddening pulse of a release coursing through your body like liquid fire. Abby turns meaner, rougher, pinching a nipple between two fingers and pressing the hand further into your neck, forcing you to follow its direction and standing further on your toes. 
Four hands - teasing, fucking, taking. 
Two souls tauntingly attracting your own into their orbit, sealing an invisible lock around your heart, your body, your being itself. 
And sweet, sweet praise, whispered right under your ear, sending you into a release you’re helpless to control. 
“Ellie, Abby… I-” The moan that travels from your chest and spills past your lips is rough, guttural, connected to the inhuman waves of pleasures rocking through your body. Your cunt clenches around the fingers still thrusting in and out of your center, clinging onto the digits until they’re forced to stop, Ellie breathing heavily in your ear. Abby kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth nibbling at sensitive skin and laying a mark you refuse to ever cover. 
Your moan ends, broken off in tense breathing, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest, and that’s when you catch the groan vibrating Ellie’s throat. It, too, falls into silence. 
Abby swears against your skin, a deep, rough “Fuck,” that sends shivers down your spine. 
“Told you she’d be the cutest little thing to corrupt,” Ellie teases, slowly sliding out of you, fighting against the tightness of your walls and your eagerness to be fucked into a stupid mess. “She’s all proper and shit but I could tell she’d love it.”
“I never doubted you.” Abby says, kissing the lone tear sliding down your cheek with all of the tenderness she can conjure. “Come on, let’s get her on a proper surface.”
Heat blooms on your cheeks when Ellie steps away to allow Abby to take you into her arms, the ground suddenly disappearing from under your feet. The way they talk about you like you’re not even there, like you’re too fucked out to understand a single word, would be shameful under any other circumstance. You know it’s only a game when Ellie takes advantage of finally facing you by planting a soft kiss on your forehead, pushing away a lazy strand of hair. 
They begin to walk toward your bedroom like they perfectly know the way, and your vision turns dark right as they push the door open.
-
“Can you hold her open for me or have you been slacking at the gym?”
Your eyes remain closed, but your brain kickstarts itself into working properly again. You can feel the familiar linen of your sheets under your ass and soft naked breasts pressed against your back, another weight shifting in front of you on the bed. 
The body behind yours shakes in rhythm with a chuckle and you recognize Ellie. “Can you still eat pussy or should we trade so I can show you? Sorry we didn’t plan for your strap, I thought she might have a cock lying around but… we’ll have to take care of that next time.”
“Fuck you,” says Abby half-heartedly, the sound followed by more shifting. 
You’re fully aware again when Ellie grabs the back of your thighs and tugs them, spreading your legs and allowing air to tickle the slick still running from your center, drenched folds bared for anyone to use as they please. 
“Come on, get to it. I know you’re hungry.”
Another pair of hands holds you by the ass and your eyes flutter open, hoping to catch sight of what you once dreamed about. Abby barely spares you a glance before she all but leaps to feast on your cunt, igniting a fire not yet extinguished. 
“Abby… Abby…” You repeat her name like a plea, like a prayer. Your hips buck and trash around, your heart pauses and starts again, your releases come and come again right after each other until you exist no more, a broken toy a kid cannot help but continue to play with. 
Lips circle your clit and suck, pull and deliver rough kisses. An expert tongue gathers slicks at your entrance and spreads it all over already drenched folds, eating rather than licking, a starved woman relishing in her first and last mean. It’s all too much, too soon, too sensitive, and you’re in no way capable of pulling away, four hands keeping you all tight and secure in their hold, a prisoner to your own pleasure. 
“Keep them coming, pretty thing. I want your cunt red by the time we’re done with you tonight,” Ellie murmurs in your ear before resuming the path of tenderness her mouth trailing on down your neck. 
You only find the strength left in yourself to follow that order. 
-
An unwelcomed warmth burns your closed eyelids and you shift, attempting to escape its path. To your great despair, it doesn’t budge. A tired groan echoes in the room and you blink sleep back into your body, limbs stretching and encountering a soreness that did not exist before.
Oh. Right. Last night happened and… it was not a dream this time. 
Fear seizes your heart for a moment and you quickly look around, scared to find the bed empty save for your body. A happy sigh of relief marks the moment you see them - Abby clinging to Ellie’s back, still sound asleep and temptingly naked, and Ellie holding onto your waist, staring up at you with a smug look and a kind smile.
“Morning,” she says, voice broken from sleep. “You didn’t think we’d abandon you, did ya?”
“N-no I… I’m just happy to see you.” You cannot control the dumb smile that widens on your lips, and Ellie’s smirk only widens, her hold pulling you back into the eternal depths of the sheets. 
“We’re not going anywhere, try to get some more sleep.”
It’s a simple sentence, meaningless on the surface. 
Yet, you know it’s more than that. 
It’s a promise. 
A promise for more, meant to suppress the doubts blossoming in your chest. A promise that they’ll be there when you awake again, and again, and again.  
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