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#I think it’ll be??? 23 minutes or so
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Getting into the Stanley Parable when you realise the game is going to be 10 YEARS OLD feels weird sjshskshsk
Like a was essentially a kid when it came out so it makes sense why I didn’t get it but
WHY AM I SO AFFECTED BY IT NOW???? HOW??? WHAT????
I’m so playing this again on my birthday - maybe I’ll even try to get all the achievements but no - I’ll prob just try to annoy the Narrator
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prozach27 · 1 year
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#tomorrow is gonna be. a lot.#but I’m feeling more and more positive about life#it’s weird to think I’m down to like my last 2 months of intensive outpatient therapy#though I’m getting phased into group therapy and apparently I remain monitored by a psychiatrist throughout my whole time at UCLA lol#which I mean hey I’ll take it. plus regular therapy now that it’ll be downgraded#whatever works tbh. I’m just so happy that I actually feel like we found a med combination that works last week#and it took a minute to get used to it but like holy shit I’m getting the increasing feeling that I’m actually getting my life back#like for the first time since I was 22-23 and this whole diagnosis kicked into high gear#I’m motivated again. I’m able to concentrate. I’m able to work the long hours I love again. I’m able to get involved in clubs#its been such a hard fight the last five or six years but I actually do think this chapter of my life is closing and I could just cry#don’t get me wrong there’s still a ton of work ahead but like it’s work I can and will do#I’ve dreamt for years about what it would feel like to be the old me again and I’m seeing so many hints of it in the last week and a half#more than I ever have. And I see the work that can be done but it feels like climbing a hill rather than mt Everest now#I can actually make it through this. like this year I understand and know I’ll be back to my old self. and I’m so mf’in ready#I need to relearn how to be social. how to throw parties. how to network. etc#but that’ll come with time#until then… it’s time to knock it out of the ballpark again
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oflgtfol · 2 years
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if everything works out im gonna go out with my telescope later + try to take pics of the gibbous… specifically i am going to try with my highest magnification to try to get rid of the blurriness induced by zooming in with my phone camera
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macfrog · 1 year
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grilled cowboy like me chapter three
part iii of dbf!joel! parts i here and ii here. ask, dear readers, and you shall receive. i do just wanna also add a massive thank you to you guys for all the love on this series. every single like, reblog, reply, etc. means the world to me. i hope you enjoy this next chapter 💚 reader got joel quaking !!! 🥵
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pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: joel knows he shouldn't be looking at you the way he is, but you look so pretty on your knees; how can he say no?
warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! oral (m receiving), praise kink, jealous/protective joel, age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), consumption of alcohol, cursing
word count: 4.6k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter. You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize – That’s exactly what you want him to do.
You spend a few more minutes up in your room before you follow Joel out the door and downstairs. You’re a little flustered, okay? Your dad’s best friend just had you literally wrapped around his fingers, and now you both gotta head off to a friendly neighborhood barbecue you’re supposed to be hosting. All smiles. All, Anyone need a refill? All, No, I haven’t just totally been fooling around with Joel Miller.
The house is empty and voices feed in from the backyard. You push aside the shades and step out onto the bright patio, where a few of your neighbors are sitting. Joel stands between Hank and Rita’s chairs, and you amble over to his side.
You sense his body tensing as soon as you reach him, your shoulder brushing off of his deliberately.
“Hello, my girl,” Rita calls, taking one of your wrists in her frail hands. “I sure am glad to see you back on home turf.”
You smile a little awkwardly, placing a hand on top of hers. “It’s nice to see you, too. How’ve you been?”
“Still livin’, honey, still livin’.”
She lets go of you when Hank takes her up in conversation, and your attention turns back to Joel.
“Busy, huh? Lotta people came.”
“Mhm,” he grunts, taking a step away from you and folding his arms. You eyes skim across the new distance between you both, noting it.
“Joel, your Sarah,” Rita swivels to face him, “she’s home soon, right?”
Joel nods. “The seventeenth.”
Hank gives a nod. “It’ll be a fine summer havin’ both you girls back home.”
Joel shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting around the patio. He spots Bill across the pool, by your dad’s work shed, and excuses himself. You track him as he makes off, and feel your face reddening.
Your dad’s head and shoulders materialize through the sliding door to the kitchen and he calls on you, beckoning you in. You hesitantly wander over, a cloud of shame forming over your head that you hope he can’t see.
“Bill’s beer,” he adds a Coors to a tray filled with glasses and bottles, “Marcia’s iced tea, a Coke for Sam…Joel– Shoot, we ain’t got Joel anythin’. Reckon he’ll touch Coors?”
You flinch at the mention of his name, and instantly try to recover it. “I wouldn’t know, why would I know that?”
Your dad’s hands lift like you’ve aimed a shotgun at him. “Alright, cranky, jeez. Go back to bed, get out the right side this time. Here.”
He lifts the tray and slowly passes it over the island to you, the glass trembling.
“…you remember, now? Bill – beer, Marcia – iced tea, Sam–”
“– Coke, yeah, I got it. Go take a Xanax, dad, your hair’s fallin’ out.”
“And ask Joel what he’s after!” he calls as you slip out of the sliding door.
Marcia sits beside her daughter, Lisa, on the pool loungers. You bend your knees and lower the tray for her to reach her drink.
“Thank you, honey.” She grins gratefully as she lifts it off the shaking tray and you return her smile, then continue on.
Bill is stood at the other end of the garden with Joel, arms crossed, both listening to some story Arthur Kennedy’s telling about a mechanic he works with. Arthur Kennedy always kinda scared you, was always loud and drunk. Your dad and Joel used to deliberately come up with excuses to keep you and Sarah away from him at parties.
This time is no different. You approach the group of men from Joel’s right side, dipping behind his back to stand between him and Bill, safely separated from the raving storyteller.
“He says he’d just oiled it, I said, Benny, that engine’s drier ‘n a nun’s nasty!”
He erupts into a roar of laughter despite the silence of his companions, and you nudge the tray against Bill’s arm.
“Oh, darlin’,” he says, turning to you and giving you an affectionate smile as he lifts the beer. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
You smile back. Bill can be gruff, a bit of a loner, but he’s always had a soft spot for you.
“How you doin’?” he asks, taking a swig.
You nod. “Good. Back workin’ at Sal’s, so…living the dream.”
You can feel Arthur’s stare on you like the hot sun. You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, tray tucked under your elbow against your hip.
“I’ll bet,” Bill says. “He got you workin’ hard?”
“Not really. It’s a pretty quiet store. Uh, Dad wanted me to ask,” you turn to Joel, whose eyes are glued to the ground, “what you’re drinkin’?”
He shakes his head, palm hooked around the back of his neck. “I’ll get my own. Thanks.”
“Aw, c’mon Joelie,” Arthur taunts. You try to avoid looking him in the eye out of fear he’ll take you up on it, but he does it anyways. “Why don’t you just let this pretty little waitress of ours bring you a drink? Since she’s bein’ so sweet ‘n offerin’.”
Your eyes flit to Joel. His jaw is tense, his eyes dark as he stares down Arthur.
“You know what,” he says through his teeth, “I’ll take a Bud. C’mon, you’ll know where they are, right?”
“Wh– We didn’t get any–”
“Be in the fridge, I’ll bet.” He takes your arm and pulls you away from the duo, who resume conversation as you leave.
You’re hauled back into the kitchen so fast that you almost drop Sam’s soda.
“Joel, be careful!”
He lets go of your arm and watches Arthur from the kitchen window. “Scumbag,” he mutters.
“Do you suffer from short-term memory loss?” you ask, throwing the tray onto the counter. “Didn’t we have a whole argument in the store about me not gettin’ Bud?”
“Just had to get you away from him, talkin’ like that. Guy pisses me off,” Joel huffs.
“Who pisses you off?” your dad calls, appearing from the bathroom.
Joel shoots him a look. “Arthur Kennedy. What’s he doin’ here?”
“I couldn’t not invite him; I know he’s a dirtball. You stay away from him.” He points a finger at you.
“Very good,” Joel replies. “Great plan. Make it her problem to keep the pervert off her tail.”
“Pervert?” You scoff.
“You don’t hear him at Frank’s!” Joel rounds on you now, and you raise your eyebrows. “That waitress line wasn’t even half of it.”
Your dad chuckles, patting Joel’s shoulder as he passes. “I’ll keep an eye on it.” He wanders out to the patio.
Joel’s still full of rage. You watch him, not sure whether to move closer or let him calm down on his own.
“I think you’re probably overreacting a little. It was a creepy line, and I won’t be goin’ near him anyways, but it’s fine. I can dodge Arthur Kennedy.”
“Shouldn’t need to. Shouldn’t be put in that position.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off of the kitchen counter, palms pressed flat to the surface, shoulders hunched, breathing deep. He looks like a wild bear, like he could rip Arthur Kennedy limb from limb if only he’d just stroll through the sliding door.
You decide to give him some time to cool off.
“I gotta get this Coke to Sam. You good?”
“I’ll be fine,” he snaps, and you take that as your cue to dip.
When you reappear into the sunlight, a pair of hands clamp down on your shoulders, making you jump.
“Hey, stranger!”
“Sam!” you cry, clutching your chest. “You almost gave me a damn heart attack. Here, idiot.”
You hand him the soda, and he tilts it in your direction, a thank-you in the form of a toast.
“I’ve been meaning to drop by Frank’s since I got home, come pay you a visit.”
“I’ll get you a drink on the house when you do.” Sam smiles, blonde fringe gleaming in the sun.
“So, how’s it going?” you ask.
“It’s…going.” He laughs. “Was just talking to Hank about college courses. Figured I might apply. This bartending life is not for me.”
“Do it. Come be a graduate with me. I got a degree, forty grand of debt, and absolutely no prospects!”
Sam laughs. “Nah, you got a brain, you’re gonna work somethin’ out.”
You both take seats by the pool to catch up. Sam’s a nice guy; he was in your circle of friends at school, and, like Anna, always stayed in Austin while you and the rest up and left.
Your dad always thought he had a thing for you, being that he was male and you two were close, and your dad’s an old-fashioned man who doesn’t believe any good can come from two people of opposite genders being friends. But Sam’s a sweet guy, and his being here pushes Joel’s sudden change in behavior a little further back in your mind.
“I’m working later on, so I’m only staying for an hour or so. My mom says hi, by the way.”
“Hi right back. Is she doing okay?”
“Fine! She’s fine. As fine as she can be, I think. Y’know, my dad leaving wasn’t too great. She took it pretty hard. But we’re settled into the new place, she’s doing good. Do you…Did you scratch yourself, or somethin’?”
He points underneath your hair to the side of your neck and your fingers run across the skin, wincing a little over a particular spot under your jaw. A memory flashes before your eyes as the sensitive skin tingles and your eyes instantly lock on the culprit: emerging from the kitchen door, beer in hand, dark eyes scanning the garden for you.
When you lock eyes, he makes a passive expression and wanders off in the opposite direction.
“Uh– No, that’s weird. Well, I had a nap earlier. I might have scratched myself in my sleep, y’know?”
Sam narrows his eyes. He’s twenty-three, dumbass, he’s not an idiot.
You smile sweetly at him and scrape together some reason to excuse yourself, dashing off to the bathroom to examine Joel’s handiwork.
It’s only a little red, probably more noticeable in the sunlight, but still, you grab some concealer and dab it over the mark. Feeling exhausted from running around and pretty pissed off with Joel, you march back outside and throw yourself into a chair beside Hank.
“Your dad knows how to cook a burger,” he tells you, holding a napkin to his mouth. “Delicious.”
“I’ll grab one in a bit. Not really hungry.”
You spend a little time chatting with Hank and Rita, answering their questions about college, telling anecdotes about work, asking about Anna’s makeup business.
“That girl,” Hank shakes his head, “there ain’t no tellin’ her. I’m just her ol’ uptight dad.”
All the while you periodically glance up, across the pool to Joel, and each time, he’s staring right back.
When you get up to grab some food, his eyes follow you. When Sam pulls you in for a hug to say goodbye, he’s watching. When Arthur stumbles over to sit across from Hank, Joel’s figure appears like an apparition at the side of him. Across the table, an appropriate distance away, but keeping an eye on you.
It fills you with equal parts thrill and frustration.
You find yourself laughing extra hard at Bill’s comments, leaning your head on Marcia’s shoulder, leaping to your feet anytime Hank wants a refill, or Rita asks you to light her cigarette. All to get to Joel. All so he has to watch you be unbothered by him for the entire night.
The garden is darker, porch light attracting moths and flies, but a small group of your neighbors sits congregated under blankets on the patio still. You’re talking about New York with Lisa when you notice Joel lean in to your dad across the table.
“I’m gonna head, early start tomorrow,” he says, getting up from his seat.
“You remember your gas tank, Joel,” your dad tells him, nodding over to the grilling station.
“Hey.” You feel a nudge on your shoulder and look up to find his brown eyes looking down into yours. “Give me a hand, would ya? Loadin’ this into the truck.”
“You got it out just fine on your own.”
He calls you by name, and you know from his stern expression he’s serious.
You stand, shaking the blanket from your shoulders, and follow him over to the barbecue. He detaches the tank and picks it up. You wrap your fingers around the handle beside Joel’s, but when the two of you waddle out the back gate, you can feel he has most of the weight.
You reach his truck, shrouded in darkness from the dusk. He hands you the keys from his back pocket and you drop the tailgate, then Joel hoists the tank up by himself and wipes his hands on his jeans.
“What’d you even need me for?”
“Been weird today. Wanted to check you were alright.”
“Are you fucking serious?” You groan. “Are you talking to me or not?”
“Of course I’m talkin’ to ya.”
“Then stop being an asshole, okay? I’m bored of asshole Joel. I want my Joel back.”
He looks at you almost solemnly.
“Look, if you don’t wanna talk about what happened upstairs, we don’t have to, but–”
“’s not that I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Then what is it?”
The floodlight over the garage switches on and your back gate clicks open. Your dad ushers Rita out, coat draped over her shoulders.
“Just walkin’ Rita home,” your dad calls.
“See ya, hon!”
You wave. “Bye, Rita.”
When you turn back, Joel’s making his way toward the truck door.
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” you mutter under your breath, and silently storm back into the house.
You hear his truck pull away as you throw yourself down onto your bed. Fucking livid.
Alright, you agreed nothing happened. But then Joel went and started acting like something totally happened. If anyone had caught on to the way he was acting, they’d for sure know something was up.
The anger rolls around in your stomach; his avoiding you, the way he kicked off when Arthur made that comment, the way his eyes followed you around the garden afterward.
And worst of all, you fucking liked it. You liked him protecting you, didn’t you? You liked the way he couldn’t help himself, had to make sure you were out of reach of any danger. You liked peering over Sam’s shoulder to find his gaze frozen on you.
You sit up, hands either side of your hips on your mattress. You look down and notice what they’re resting on.
Joel’s flannel shirt.
You’re halfway out the door, shirt in your fist, before you even have time to breathe. You run into your dad in the driveway.
“Woah, woah, where we off to?”
“Joel forgot his shirt.”
“I’m sure he can do without it for a few days, kiddo.”
“I’ll just take it back to ‘im,” you call, hopping in your car before he has time to protest.
You’re at Joel’s in five minutes.
Knocking and waiting for him to answer might ruin the argumentative vibe you’re trying to set, so you fling his front door open and walk straight into his hallway.
The house sits in complete darkness, save for a small light flooding in from the room at the end of the hall. You wander up to it and find Joel sat at his kitchen table, staring down at some contract papers on the wood. Aside from the dull light over his head, the kitchen is dark, orange tinge on the walls from the streetlights outside.
He doesn’t flinch when your shoe scuffs his tile floor. Instead, he just flips the papers back over and sighs.
“Subtlety not in your nature, is it, kid?”
“You left this.” You throw the shirt onto the table.
His eyes scan over it. “Thought I told you to keep it.”
“Oh,” you sit down opposite him, “my mistake. I thought you meant keep it until you’d had your way with me. Thought once you’d dumped me I was to hand the flannel back.”
“Dumped you?” He raises his eyebrows, sitting back in his chair. “Hm.”
“Hm?”
“I wasn’t tryin’ to dump you. I didn’t mean for you to feel…dumped.”
“The most you talked to me all afternoon was to give me a grilling about Arthur Kennedy. All you did was stare at me, then ask me to help you carry a gas tank at the very end of the night.”
He scratches his beard, considering what you’re saying.
“I mean, I thought we agreed to act like it didn’t happen,” you continue, “I thought we were fine.”
“Fine? You think what we did was fine?”
You struggle to find words to reply. Sure, it was better than fine. And at the same time, it was a terrible idea.
“We…We were…We were just messing around.”
Joel almost laughs. “Messin’ around.”
“Yeah,” you protest. “I liked it, you looked like you liked it. What’s wrong with it?”
“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it. If we do this, if we’re ‘messin’ around’…what makes me any different to…to Arthur Kennedy? Hm? Just another creep on the street, hangin’ around and flirtin’ with girls far too young for ‘im?”
“The difference is I actually want you to do it, Joel.”
His expression drops. He stands up, shoving the chair back, and wanders off toward the kitchen counter.
You twist around to watch him. “I want this. And I’m twenty-three fucking years old, I can decide for myself. Arthur is, like, sixty years old, anyway. And he ain’t even a good sixty – he’s all grey, wrinkly skin, greasy hair like he doesn’t know how to work his own shower–”
“Alright, kid, we’re digressin’ here.” Joel waves his hand.
You snap back to reality and shake your head to clear it of Arthur Kennedy’s leathery skin. “Sorry, sorry.”
“It’s just not a good idea.”
“What’s not?” You stand.
“This. Us. You ‘n me.”
“And did you decide this before or after you fucked around with me in my bedroom?”
Joel sighs, shaking his head and turning away. He places one hand on his hip, the other to the bridge of his nose.
“I mean…” You throw your arms up, finally at breaking point. “What are you doing to me?”
Your tone forces him to turn back. When your expression matches it, he approaches you, gently cupping your face in both hands.
“I’m tryin’ to rein this in a little, baby. I’m tryna be the responsible one here. You know how hard it is not to give in to this? To you?”
You know what he means. He’s in a lot more trouble than you are if you both get caught; he’s your dad’s buddy. He isn’t supposed to be fooling around with his best friend’s daughter.
You think over what you’ve gotta be doing to him – all the glances when no one’s looking, the touching, practically fucking begging for him to make you cum earlier. It’s no wonder he’s trying so hard to stop himself every time, no surprise he’s doing all he can not to give in to you. And right then, you realize –
That’s exactly what you want him to do.
Your head falls limp in his grasp. “Then, stop trying.”
Joel’s eyes trace over your face; down the bridge of your nose, across your lips, over to where your jaw meets his rough hands. He’s tossing the thought of it over in his head like a penny. Only there’s no right answer.
Heads, you call it off, and lose any chance of ever knowing what this is between you guys. Tails, you fall down the rabbit hole; secret, clandestine, forbidden rabbit hole, and risk losing…well, everything.
Is it worth that risk? Just to feel him on you again? To feel his lips across yours, hungry, demanding, his hips grinding into you, his hands all over you, the way he looks at you as you cum for him…
Suddenly, like the realization hits him at the exact same time as it does you, Joel’s eyes darken.
Yeah. It’s fucking worth it.
His grip becomes rough, shifting from your jaw to around your throat. He pulls you toward him, lips connecting, and your hands press against his chest.
His grasp drops, squeezing your hips, before one hand leaves to settle between your legs. He just can’t get enough, can he?
“Uh-uh,” you mumble against his mouth, “you had your taste earlier. It’s my turn.”
You push him back against the counter. He’s staring at you with nothing but lust behind his eyes. Without a word, you sink down, knees hitting the cold tile.
“Baby…” Joel hums when your hands find his belt buckle. You smirk at his voice; you’re too good to be true to him. Like he can’t believe what’s about to happen.
You undo his belt and pull it through the loops, letting it fall to the floor with a clink. Then your fingers undo his jeans, almost tearing them apart by the zipper with your eagerness to see him.
As you pull the denim over his hips, you feel his hand softly rest on the crown of your head. A quick glance up tells you he’s watching every single thing you’re doing, lapping it up like it’s the last thing he’ll ever see.
You can see the bulge through his boxers; it’s big. Bigger than you imagined, even with your hand stuffed down your panties.
You place a gentle kiss to his thigh and pull the waistband of his underwear down, and his cock springs free. You gasp a little at the size of it, feeling your mouth watering at the sight of precum on his tip.
Your hands wrap around it, clutching his girth. You pump him a few times in your hands and he tips his head back, mouth agape. His free hand grips the counter, steadying himself.
His tip oozes more precum and you wrap your lips around it, sucking gently. Joel groans, audibly. The most audible you’ve heard him yet. It drives you insane.
You push your lips down his shaft, his cock filling up your mouth to your throat before you even reach the bottom. You push down as far as your throat will allow before releasing him with a pop, saliva mixed with Joel all over your lips.
“Good girl,” he’s mumbling, eyes still screwed shut, hand still knotting in your hair.
You drag your tongue along the underside of his dick, closing your eyes. All you can think is Joel, all you can taste, smell, and breathe is him. Completely dumb for this man, cock stretching your mouth so good.
When you take him in down to your throat again, he begins moving his hips; fucking your mouth. You steady yourself, hands on his upper thighs, and let him, trying not to lower your hand to your cunt to relieve the ache quickly growing there.
The sounds he’s making are enough to make you cum by themselves. He’s panting, moaning, breathing your name, groaning whenever your cheeks hollow and you suck until he’s so close he pulls you off.
“Wanna take my time, baby. You’re doing so good.”
You pull him back into your mouth. He tastes like sweat and salt and Joel. He tastes perfect.
When he bumps the back of your throat and you gag a little, you notice Joel’s head snap down to check on you. His grip on your hair loosens, and you softly gaze back at him, eyes blown with lust, to let him know you’re okay.
You drag your lips off of his head, a string of saliva still linking your mouth to his reddened tip. You’re panting now, half-turned on, half-tired from accommodating the size of him between your jaw.
Your palms wrap around his length again, pumping and twisting slowly while your tongue flicks over his head. He grits his teeth, both hands now against the countertop, knuckles whitening the longer you go on.
When you let go of him and dip your head down to take his whole cock in your throat, he lets out a deep groan.
“Keep goin’, baby, keep doin’ that,” he’s groaning, your head bobbing up and down. “Don’t fuckin’ stop.”
His hand falls to the back of your head and he applies a little pressure, fucking into you again.
When you begin to feel him jerk, you lean back, hands helping him to his high as you hold his head to your bottom lip.
Joel’s hand never leaves your head as his cock twitches, filling your throat and coating your tongue in warm, salty cum. He’s calling your name, breath heaving and hips shuddering.
His length slides out of your mouth. When his orgasm subsides, he watches you lick your lips and swallow his load, before tucking his softening dick under his boxers and pulling his jeans back up.
You watch in a distant haze of ecstasy as Joel does his pants up himself and takes your chin in his hand.
Breathing heavy, you look up at him, eyes hooded. Waiting for permission to stand.
“C’mere,” he whispers, and your tired legs hoist you back up to height.
He envelops you in his arms, placing a kiss to your forehead and letting you lean into his chest.
You let your eyes fall closed as you breathe each other in.
“So good to me,” Joel mumbles against your forehead, and you lazily smile.
You could let him carry you up to his bed and fall asleep right then and there, you think. That is, until you hear your phone vibrating on the table.
“Fuck,” you groan, and Joel releases you from his grasp.
“Just makin’ sure you ain’t dead,” your dad chirps down the line.
“I’m still at Joel’s,” you reply, “just leavin’.”
“Don’t you be keepin’ him, you hear?”
You pretend not to, and get him off the phone as quickly as possible. When you turn back around, Joel’s stood with a smirk on his face.
“Go on. Don’t want to make him suspicious.”
You skip over and place a kiss to his lips, and he runs a hand through your hair.
“Like I said, we’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Just messing around,” he says.
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As you approach the front door, you pause for a second and compose yourself. Glance in the window to check your reflection, take a deep breath. The last thing you need right now is your dad noticing something’s different.
He’s sitting in the recliner watching baseball highlights when you stumble in. He doesn’t turn to look at you as you dive straight for the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.
“Hey there. Joel get his precious shirt back?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure. Just couldn’t be bothered with it lying around my room.”
He hums absentmindedly. You stand by the kitchen island chugging the water, avoiding conversation with him and looking for an excuse to dismiss yourself to bed.
“Hey,” he says after a bit, “did you find the burgers too…salty?”
You choke on your drink. “The– Too– What?”
“The burgers. Not sure if I over-seasoned ‘em. Were they salty?”
“No. They were fine. They were fine.”
Dizzy with adrenaline, you feign sleepiness and bid him goodnight. When you reach your room and collapse onto your bed, your phone buzzes.
Your eyes scan over the text; your heart skips and you feel a flutter just south of your belly button.
Joel: You free Sunday?
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tag list: @yvonneeeee @brittmb115 @subconsciouscollapse (let me know if u wanna be added!)
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runnning-outof-time · 5 months
Note
Congratulations, I adore your story!!
Could you please do 23 with angst and then fluff? Thank you so much I appreciate it!💕
Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m so happy you like my stories! I decided to go with Tommy for the character and chose “I don’t want to go.” for the prompt because it was the 5 word #23. I hope you don’t mind that. Enjoy! :)
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!
To Keep You Safe
Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Warnings: season 4 spoilers (like right from the jump), language
Word Count: 1042
Summary: (Y/N) and Tommy discuss the decision to have her go into hiding while the war with the Changrettas rages on.
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Things were heating up in the vendetta between the Shelbys and the Changrettas. What both sides thought would be a quick battle had now turned into a full-on war. And after Luca managed to get to Michael in his hospital bed and try to get him to switch sides, Tommy was convinced that no one was safe.
He called a family meeting. He arranged it in the morning and it was set for that evening. The air in the room was so thick with tension that you could practically cut it with a knife. (Y/N) noted that they were currently in the midst of a thunderstorm, which she had a feeling was foreshadowing for what was to be talked about.
And oh boy was she right. Things were quiet between her and Tommy that night. Neither of the two spoke a word to the other before they both went to sleep.
(Y/N) didn’t really sleep much though. No matter how many times she wished it wouldn’t, tomorrow still came.
Soon enough, there was a man in a car sitting outside their Watery Lane home.
“I don’t want to go,” (Y/N) huffed as she crossed her arms. She was aware of how much she sounded like their three year old daughter, but she quite frankly didn’t care.
“You have to, love,” Tommy insisted, not wanting this to turn into something bigger than it had to be.
“Why?” she asked, her one eyebrow quirking upward.
“Don’t fucking start…” he trailed off with a sigh.
“You owe me a reason, Thomas. I’m not just going to be shipped off into the fucking wilderness for no fucking reason,” she harped on, sharing her feelings about the decision that had been made — essentially without her consent — the night prior.
“You know why,” he told her, insisting it was common sense.
“Enlighten me anyway,” she shrugged.
“(Y/N).”
“Tommy.”
“It’s to keep you safe!” he finally came out with it, his voice raising as his eyes went wide, showing the frustration and stress he was currently under. “It’s to keep you fucking safe.”
(Y/N) was taken back by his outburst, but she really should have expected it. She was poking a bear; a powder keg that was bound to explode sooner or later. “You’re keeping me safe here, though. And besides, it was agreed between the both of you: no civilians. No women or children,” she pointed out in a softer voice, recalling the rules of the vendetta that he’d told her a few weeks prior.
“Yeah, I know that was agreed upon,” Tommy started, nodding as a sigh escaped his lips, “but with how things are going…we need to expect everything. And I can’t have you get taken by him or his men as a way to get me. So I need you to go. Just for a little while.”
Silence fell between them as she took a minute to think things over. The last thing she wanted to do was leave Tommy’s side while all of this was going on.
“I don’t want to leave you, Tommy,” was the next thing she said. She couldn’t get through the sentence without choking up, tears brimming up in her eyelids.
Tommy exhaled a breath before he closed the short distance between them, taking her into his arms just as her body began to shake from her sobs. “It’ll just be a little while, love,” he spoke in a soft voice, his chin rested on the top of her head as he rubbed her back in a comforting manner.
They stood like that for a few minutes. (Y/N) had no shame in crying into her husband’s suit coat. She didn’t want to let him go and leave because she was afraid that this would be the last time she’d see him.
“Hey, the car’s waiting outside,” Tommy was the one to speak first. He loosened his hold on her as he did, moving his hands to her shoulders so that he could bring her out at arms length.
“I know,” (Y/N) nodded, sniffling as she wiped her tears away. “I’ll miss you, Tommy,” she added then, looking at him with watery eyes.
“I’ll miss you too, love,” he responded without a second thought, raising one hand to run it down her cheek.
“Make sure you go visit the kids for me…or at least send Pol or someone if you think it’s too risky,” she added, thinking of her children who were currently residing at her parents’ home.
“I will,” he assured her with a nod.
(Y/N) took a moment to look at her husband then, making sure she could commit every part of him to memory. She didn’t know when she’d see him next. Her bottom lip began to quiver as that thought stuck in her mind.
“It’s just a little while,” Tommy repeated what he’d said to her before.
“I know,” she nodded, holding back the tears. “I love you.”
“I love you,” he repeated the phrase, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. (Y/N) held him there, making their embrace as long as it could possibly be. But eventually she had to pull away, and as she did, she finally decided it was time. “I should go.”
“I’ll come get you when this is finished,” he promised her, their eyes locked as he spoke.
“Just stay alive,” she said to him, sending one last smile her way before they finally broke their embrace so that she could grab her things.
Tommy ushered her outside and made sure she got into the vehicle. He then gave the driver and his accomplice strict instructions on what to do. After sending one last smile to (Y/N), he let them go and headed back inside.
He took two steps away from the door and placed his hands onto the side table sitting there so that he could brace himself as he leaned back against it. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, his family flashing in his mind. Then he released the breath he’d been holding and stared straight ahead. This vendetta would be finished soon, and he’d make damn sure of it.
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**tags are in a reblog, so that hopefully the notification gets sent
MASTERLIST
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erenthology · 1 year
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Underground boxer Eren
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Underground boxer Eren. You’re on tour with his team. They travel in his private plane and stay in different hotels while traveling through the states. Both are around the ages 20-23. This is basically “real” by Katy evans. Happy belated birthday Eren🖤 this is a messy filler-ish post, his real birthday fic coming out soon. I’ve had to cover shifts so I haven’t had the time to proofread and post. (Adhd brain)
Tw(?)Eren has a soft spot for reader. He’s a perv. They act like a couple but reader thinks Eren is just being nice. Eren is delusional. Reader is naive. Smut, Slight dub-con. Aftercare is slightly mentioned. Obsessive, possessive Eren. He’s immature. Very touchy. Let me know if I should add to this! Not proofread so there will be mistakes. Enjoy!
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“Oh, there she is” Eren turns his head in amusement mid convo but stops in his tracks when he meets your eyes
Boxer!Eren who falls obsessively in love with the new sports rehab specialist on his team. He said he didn’t want one but Armin, his manger, insisted. thank god
Boxer!Eren who immediately tells Armin to place your seat next to his on the private plane.
“Need my sports therapist today, Armin. Send her to me.” “Eren, she’s a sports REHAB specialist.”
Boxer!Eren who knockouts his opponents to impress you
Boxer!Eren looks for you in the crowd during every fight to catch your reactions
Boxer!Eren who gets mad when you talk to the other staff. You’re supposed to be there for him
Boxer!Eren who deliberately gets hit in the rink when he’s feeling deprived of attention so he’ll get you to touch him
Boxer!Eren who forces you hold his hand when walking down the lobby since guys were fucking staring at you (they’re literally staring at Eren since they’re there for him)
Boxer!Eren almost cums in his pants when you show up one day in a too short a short skirt and tank top! He tries to look you in the face when you tell him good morning but he just can’t when your tits are right in his face
Boxer!Eren who’s feeling very, very possessive and semi freaks out all day, sending death glares to anyone who dares to stare. He even tries to cover your smaller frame with his body.
Boxer!Eren makes sure you feel his hips slightly pushing into your back when he’s reaching for something above your head, eyefucking you through staff meetings, charming you with compliments throughout the day. “You look like an angel, ya know that?” Using his panty melting smile that he knows has an affects on the ladies. Right??
Boxer!Eren who sometimes does things like run his hand through your hair in public so it’ll look like you’re a couple to any passerby’s. “What’re you doing?” “Hm?” He bends forwards as if he couldn’t hear you. “Oh, you just had something in your hair” sneaky fucker
Boxer!Eren ask’s if he can have some of your water? His is literally on the side. And makes sure to brush his fingers against yours when you give him your bottle with a bright smile on your face. He wants to kiss you on the spot.
Boxer!Eren is having the worst day. You’ve been laughing with Armin for 10 minutes straight. 10 minutes. Do you like him or something? He aggressively makes it known that he’s upset and decides not to speak to either of you. Didn’t last a second.
Boxer!Eren who tries to be in your proximity at all times. jumps at every opportunity to carry your luggage, walk you to your room, joining your morning walks. The guys tease him about his changed behavior when he’s around you but he doesn’t give a fuck. He likes to imagine you’re a couple already <3
“Alright [name], let me know when you’re done. I’ll wait for you” he waves, absolutely lovestruck.
“Eren do you have time to look over this real quick?” Jean asks
“Fuck off”
Boxer!Eren who had flowers delivered to your room and only gets a pat on the shoulder and a “thank you, Eren.. you’re such a great boss to your staff” back. Are you that fucking oblivious? He just wants to rip your clothes off and fuck you til you understand you’re his. Instead he forces a smile, “I’ll buy you whatever you want, baby.” And he certainly doesn’t miss the way you instantly start playing with your hair. Oh? Did he just make you nervous?
Boxer!Eren who’s finally had enough and books you into a two bedroom suit with him. “incase he needs to rehabilitate at night.”
Boxer!Eren who fantasizes the whole time about you to sucking him off to help him ease from all the stress. Or better yet bury his head in between your thighs. He just can’t stand being so close to you knowing you’re barely in any clothing, you know? …What do you wear to bed anyway? He needs to know.
Boxer!Eren who then knocks on your hotel door that night and ask’s if he can sleep with you :(
Boxer!Eren who said he just wants to cuddle but slowly pushes his knee between your thighs, rutting his hips into yours while holding you. “Wha-what’re you doing?” “[name] you feel so good,” inhaling your scent. “please just..just let me?” he pants, lips brushing your neck. Delighted with happiness when you nod.
Boxer!Eren who turns you onto your stomach, splays his larger hand on your back, slowly dry humping and tugging on your hair. The sight of you helplessly under him almost makes him cum on the spot
Boxer!Eren put you onto his lap mid-make out. pushing his hand into your panties with gentle touches. “Feels good? He ask’s when you moan into his kisses. “Yeah? you want my fingers in you?” The sight of you disheveled makes him go crazy. Harshly repeating the word “mine” again, and again against your lips.
Boxer!Eren who finally gets you on your knees in front of him, looking like you’re ready to do anything he pleases. Not a thought to play around with..
Boxer!Eren who’s been groping and touching all night. He’s currently sucking on your tits while jerking himself off against your entrance. “never been this hard before, please baby, lemme put it in. need you” he kisses until you give in
Boxer!Eren who whispered sweet nothings but literally folds you in half as he presses into you. He just can’t help himself. The sounds of his balls slapping against your skin and a mixture of your strangled noises fill up the room. He moves inside you, over you, into you. “fuck, fuck yes, like that, baby. You’re so good for me.”
Boxer!Eren who thanks you with a kiss on the forehead and whispers how good you’ve been for him. Then cradles you to sleep in his arms.
Boxer!Eren is delighted when he wakes up with your soft but pressed against his morning wood. Nuzzling his face into your neck. He smiles to himself. Knowing he’ll visit your room every night. You’re his to take care of from now on.
Xoxo
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burntheedges · 19 days
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Maintenance Request Epilogue
Joel Miller x f!reader  18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 986
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a/n: well, y'all. We made it. 😭 I hope you enjoy this peek into our favorite couple's lives. Thank you all so much for reading.
I have loved seeing all of your reactions and answering your asks about the fic this week (please keep sending more for the celebration if you'd like!). There will be more asks going up today and I'm linking them on the masterlist for the fic as I post them.
I'm getting emotional again. Thank you all. You're the best and I mean that so sincerely. 🧡 and thank you, as always, to @katareyoudrilling 🧡 I think we'll be back to visit these two (I've already got plans for something about Joel finding the poem from Ch 23 thanks to an ask from @toomanytookas) but this is it for the main story. (Also, today is my birthday, so thank you for celebrating with me.)
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, cuddling, pet names (darlin', honey, baby), allusions to smut
Epilogue
Saturday, May 10 Summer Break
It was a beautiful late spring day, with a light breeze rustling through Joel’s back garden. You stood on the back porch and turned your face to the sun, smiling at the view.
You were tired – you’d lifted so many boxes already that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider opening any of them right now. As you tried and failed to will yourself to at least make a plan, you felt Joel step up behind you. He slid his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck.
“I like the way you look on this porch, darlin’. The way your stuff looks in the house. Our house.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Looks right.” 
You grinned and leaned into him. “Well, that’s good, considering it’s way too late to change your mind now. All my books are here.” He huffed a laugh into your neck. “Once we mix them in with yours there’s no turning back. Gave up my keys and everything.” He pressed his smile into your neck in response.
You’d agreed to move in after the semester ended. Tommy, Beth, and Maria had helped, though they’d just left a few minutes ago – Tommy and Maria to return the moving truck, and Beth to pick up dinner. Tess had threatened Joel that he better have a housewarming party for you or else since she couldn’t make it.
You’d just gotten tired of lugging boxes around and stepped outside to see what Sarah, Ellie and Riley were up to. A sudden shout from the far end of the backyard drew your attention and you lifted up on your toes to try to see over Joel’s many plants. 
He did the same, arms still wrapped around you, and asked, “any idea what those three hooligans are doing back there?”
You laughed. “Well, judging by the stuff they dragged back there with them, I have a pretty good idea.”
“Oh?” He nuzzled into your neck again, clearly not too concerned with their antics.
You nodded. “Mentos. And Diet Coke.” 
He laughed, loud this time. “You’re kidding. They just discovered that old trick?”
“Seems so.”
“Feels like a different student tries it every term, so I guess I’m not surprised.” He sighed. “At least if they do it back there we don’t really have to clean it up, much.”
You elbowed him a little. “My thoughts exactly.” You were both quiet for a moment and you felt Joel relax into position behind you, leaning against the wall of the house and drawing you backwards to lean on him. 
“You think Elllie’s got a plan for her room, yet?” He sounded concerned, but you knew it was because he was anxious to help her however he could. 
“Yeah, she wants to freehand it. Some kind of mural.”
“Sounds like it’ll probably be pretty impressive. We can get her some paints, maybe tomorrow.” 
You smiled at his offer. “Poor Tommy, kicked out of his room.” 
Joel laughed at your words, but you felt him shake his head. “He’s busy with Maria, he don’t mind. Got better things to worry about these days.” You hummed, agreeing. “You know, darlin’, we got about half an hour before any of them get back.” He punctuated his statement with a quick nip to your neck and a thrust of his hips. 
You snorted. “Joel Miller, are you propositioning me? In front of the kids?” You waved your arm towards the back of the yard.
He huffed a laugh into your neck. “They can’t hear us and I’ve been dying to get you alone all day. Honey, you live here now. You aren’t going to leave later because you’re already home. It’s driving me crazy just thinkin’ about it.” 
You let your head fall back on his shoulder and grinned. “Half an hour, huh? Not a lot of time.”
He started pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck and you squirmed against him. “Enough time to make you come on my mouth, baby.” 
You started to turn in his arms, already giving in, when there was a sudden, whooshing eruption and shrieks coming from the back of the yard. You laughed. “Sounds like they figured it out.”
“Hmm, let’s worry about that later.” He grinned at you as he started to walk backwards into the house, taking your hands in his to lead you. “We got things to do and the clock is ticking.”
Both of you started giggling as you dashed up the stairs. You almost fell into his (your) room and caught yourself on the dresser. He grinned at you as he closed the door before grabbing you by the waist to guide you onto the bed. “Pants off, darlin’. Let me show you how happy I am to have you home.”
Home. You smiled and did as he asked.
He was right, after all. You were home.
...Then love comes, like a sudden flight of birds from earth to heaven after rain. Your kiss, recalled, unstrings, like pearls, this chain of words. Huge skies connect us, joining here to there. Desire and passion on the thinking air. -- From “Rapture” by Carol Ann Duffy
It was like getting a love letter from a tree Eyes closed forever to find you— There is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning -- “The Poem” by Franz Wright
...
a/n: thank you all. 🧡
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ma1dita · 3 months
Note
Hii!! Congrats on 23!!! I love your writing!! Idk if you write for Jason Grace, but if you do could you do something with a daughter or Dionysus reader where it’s just her trying to loose him up a little bit? Or maybe them at a party?? Thank you so muchh!
🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥
jason grace x dionysus!reader
a/n: underage drinking lol but that comes with a dionysus!reader ,,, ty for the request my love!
wc: 683
“So you’ve like, never been to a party?”
You’re smacking on a piece of gum as the both of you watch the party come alive in your cabin. Cabin 12 was always the place to be on weekends with it just being you and Pollux, and everyone knows that no one can throw a party like a Dionysus kid. Though with the way Jason’s leaning against the corner of the wall you both take up with a beer in hand, it’s like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Ever since his arrival at Camp Half-Blood, you’ve come to notice that there is possibly no version of him that is ever at ease.
“Never really had the time.”
Well, that just won’t do.
You teach Jason all the things a teenager usually does at a party, from drinking a few cups of spiked punch (which was much more pleasant than the beer), to dragging him onto the dance floor once the drinks set in (he thinks he likes spinning you around until your laughter bubbles over like sparkling champagne), to finally getting him to join a few party games. Jason killed it at cup pong, watched you annihilate other campers at king’s cup, until an Aphrodite kid insisted you end off the night with 7 minutes in heaven. A chorus of both groans and cheers were heard around the room, and Jason looks at you confused. His glasses glint under the fairy lights and you giggle at his lost puppy look.
7 minutes in his father’s domain didn’t seem like a good game to him, so he leans in to listen to you whisper the mechanics of it all. His cheeks redden, and he’s unsure if he wants to play.
“Come on, it’ll be fun, sparky.”
You gave him the nickname because he always looks like someone’s lit a fire under his butt—too uptight and cordial for your liking.
Sitting around while mismatched couples took their turns in your linen closet wasn’t really Jason Grace’s idea of fun, but he supposes he doesn’t really have a good grasp on that either. He trusts you though, for what it’s worth. A son of Jupiter having full faith in a daughter of Dionysus must be a deadly combination.
When Piper calls out both of your names, he supposes that could be fun. You grab his wrist and he follows you into the dim closet, everyone’s voices muffled through the closed door. 
“Is this okay?” He whispers, even if no one else can hear him but you. Your smile is intoxicating when it’s directed at him, he realizes, and he wonders if he’s finally drunk. 
“Yeah. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Jace,” you say sincerely. At a wave of your fingers, the hesitation and impairment from the punch subsides a little; a light buzz settles in your stomachs. Jason pushes his glasses up and then dares to ask, “So what do people usually do when they’re in here?”
You raise your eyebrows. You didn’t think you’d have to spell it out for him.
“Um, well…they kiss. Or other things…”
“Oh.”
You giggle at his shock, leaning in slowly and waiting for him to make the final move. Jason closes the distance and there are a few things that surprise you about this kiss. It’s intense, lips molding onto yours with the passion he puts into everything he does, wanting to do the job well. Whether it be the waning effects of alcohol or a static shock—it made the both of you hyperaware, lightly panting before his hands pull you in by the waist and you smile into the scar on his lip, grabbing onto his tshirt. You tilt your head to the side and let him consume you once more, a floaty feeling in your chest until you realize—the both of you are actually flying. 
A muffled groan leaves him when his head hits the lightbulb, sparks flying out as you land in his arms. 
Lips locking through the laughter, Jason finally understands why you would think this is fun.
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atlabeth · 2 months
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everything happens for a reason part 22 - zuko x fem!reader
I've been waiting on you
part 21 | masterlist | part 23
a/n: UHHH happy one year anniversary of me not updating!! i missed it by a day but honestly that's very in character. i kind of have no excuse for taking a year long break from this. lol. all i can really say is i lost all my avatar inspo and got really into a bunch of other things and poor little ehfar got left in the corner abandoned!!! but i could never abandon this it's my baby and even if it takes me 1000 years to finish it i will finish it. it's kind of embarrassing that it took so long for this to come out and it's a short filler chapter like who do i think i am.... but everyone is happy and on the beach and yn finally gets some clothes of her own after spending like 7 chapters in prison clothes. anyways enjoy (three more chapters left what?? will it take me 3 years who knows)
wc: 4.8k
warning(s): yn and zuko talk about their pasts and what theyve been through but overall this is a very fluffy chapter
chapter title from seasons (waiting on you) by future islands
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The days after their arrival back to the island passed by with relative ease. 
Y/N practiced waterbending with Katara and Aang so she could work on getting the hang of it again. She’d been close to mastery before Ba Sing Se, and her muscle memory was stronger than she realized, but prison and the months without her bending had weakened her. Zuko continued working with Aang on his firebending under the looming deadline of the comet.
Sokka and Suki trained with each other too, working on their hand to hand and sword fighting, and Y/N would occasionally join in to stay sharp on what Suki had taught her back in prison. Her time without her bending made her realize how much she relied solely on it, and she never wanted to feel defenseless again. 
They continued to share stories every night over a campfire. They all had plenty to talk about after everything they’d been through, especially when Zuko had been against them for half the time, Suki was leading the Kyoshi Warriors, and Y/N was stuck behind bars. 
And of course, Zuko and Y/N spent as much time together as they possibly could. They were practically attached at the hip—sitting together at meals, watching one another bend on their breaks, training against each other the way they used to, exploring the island together, just being with each other. After everything they’d been through, Y/N thought they deserved it. 
Eventually though, it was decided that they had to leave. Being in Fire Nation territory, even in the middle of nowhere, was risky. They were running out of food and supplies in general, and the possibility that Fire Nation ships would still somehow discover them weighed on their minds. They couldn’t afford to get caught so far into their mission, especially with the traitor prince of the Fire Nation on their side. 
Zuko’s idea, however, was possibly even riskier. 
“Ember Island?” Y/N asked hesitantly. “That’s… bold.” 
“We’re already being bold by staying in Fire Nation territory,” Zuko said. “We’re safe from Azula for now, but it’s only a matter of time before she somehow finds us again.” He shrugged. “My family’s vacation home is the last spot anyone will think to look.” 
“I think it’s a great idea,” Sokka said. “It’ll be nice to not fight for our lives for a minute before we make the final push.” 
Aang adjusted his hold on the reins—they’d already packed up Appa and started flying before Zuko proposed his idea—and shrugged. “I’m okay with it. Zuko and I will be able to keep training, and you all can relax in an actual house.”
“And we’ll be able to go to the beach!” Toph exclaimed. “I’ve been meaning to work on my sandbending. And,” she grinned, “I’m betting none of you have heard of sandball fights.”
“We’re really getting ourselves into something,” Katara said dryly. 
Y/N smiled and she leaned into Zuko’s side. He wrapped his arm around her immediately and pulled her closer.
“I’ve always wondered what Ember Island was like,” Y/N mused. “I was always so jealous when you and Azula got to go there on vacation every summer and I was stuck at the palace.” 
“You weren’t missing much,” Zuko said wryly. “Yeah, there’s beaches, but mostly it was just unbearably hot.” He frowned. “My father still made me do work even when we were supposed to be on vacation. I’ve done a lot of swordfighting here.” 
“I missed you,” she said, and she knew that she would never get tired of seeing Zuko’s cheeks flush red. 
“Really?” he asked. “Even then?” 
“Especially then,” she clarified. “It wasn’t like I had much going on for me there. The palace was extremely boring without you.” 
“Spirits, you guys are gross,” Sokka groaned as he looked out at the sky. “Suki and I haven’t been like this, have we?” 
Katara chuckled. “You definitely have. You could barely stay off of each other when you got back from the Boiling Rock.” 
“Just imagine what they were like when they first got back together,” Zuko said with a frown. 
“Neither of you can say anything,” Toph asserted. “I can hear both of your heartbeats shoot up every time you’re around Y/N and Suki.” 
Zuko scowled, Sokka’s face flushed, and Suki and Y/N just smiled at each other. 
“So Ember Island is a yes?” Aang asked. When everyone nodded in agreement, he looked at Zuko. “I’m in need of your navigation skills, Sifu Hotman.” 
He groaned. “I told you to stop calling me that.” 
“I know,” Aang said cheerfully. 
Zuko just sighed, and he kissed Y/N on the cheek before he moved to sit next to Aang. She smiled, and she let her hand hang over the side of the saddle. 
“...I guess it is nice not seeing you two argue all the time,” Sokka said after a moment. 
“It’s nice that you two aren’t moping around all the time either,” Toph added. “That was kind of annoying.” 
“Imagine how I felt,” Y/N said, though it was absent minded as her gaze stayed on Zuko. 
“I don’t have to imagine it,” Toph said. “You were very clearly mopey.” 
“And when you weren’t mopey, you were angry,” Suki contributed. “You said you were imagining Zuko’s face whenever I taught you new moves at the Boiling Rock. You beat him up a lot there.” 
Sokka and Toph laughed, but it was a moment before she said anything. It took Katara saying her name for her to turn back around, and when Y/N did, she blinked for a moment. “What?” 
Katara chuckled, glancing at Zuko before she looked back at her. “We’re just glad you’re back.” 
Her expression instantly brightened as she smiled. “I’m glad to be back.” 
-
It didn’t take long for them to arrive at Ember Island—and if it did, Y/N was far too busy conversing with her friends and watching Zuko for it to matter. She grimaced as she slid off of Appa, one hand taking Zuko’s and the other wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. 
“Spirits,” she mumbled, “I thought I was used to Fire Nation heat by now.” 
“Me too,” Sokka groaned. “But this is already worse than all the other places we’ve been to.” 
“Ember Island’s always been like this,” Zuko said. “The good news is that it’s Ember Island. There’s plenty of beaches—we’ve even got our own private one.” 
“Good for practicing waterbending,” Katara said with a glance at Aang. 
“Good for practicing all kinds of bending,” Zuko said. “You’re gonna need to practice your firebending every day if you want to stand a chance against my father. We’re running out of time and you’re nowhere close to being a master.” 
Aang frowned. “Way to bring down the mood, Zuko.” 
“I’m being realistic!” he defended. “You can’t just end one hundred years of war with some good luck and an optimistic mindset!” 
Sokka shrugged. “It’s worked for us so far.” 
Zuko opened his mouth to say something that would definitely cause an argument. Before he could, Y/N laughed, looping her arm through his and tugging him along. 
“Come on,” she said. “Show us around.” 
Zuko sighed, though his show of annoyance was negated as he pulled Y/N closer. “Fine. It is about time I’ve brought you here.” 
“Ugh.” Toph kicked at the sand with her foot. “I think Zuko’s just brought us along on his couples vacation.” 
“Oh, quiet,” she joked. “We’ve earned it.” 
Toph stuck her tongue out. “Doesn’t mean we can’t complain about it.” 
Y/N chuckled as they walked together, the rest of the group trailing behind them. 
“Spirits, Zuko,” Sokka marveled when they stepped inside the house. “This is huge.” 
“It is the summer home of the royal family,” he said dryly. “My father never settles for anything less than perfection. It also gave us more room to avoid each other when he was causing arguments.” 
“I can’t imagine that happened a lot,” Katara said sarcastically. 
“Never,” Zuko agreed with the same tone. “He almost burned down the place a few times.” 
Aang frowned. “Sounds like a great guy.” 
“I know you’re not a violence guy, but if there’s anyone you’d enjoy fighting, it’s my dad,” Zuko muttered. 
“I’ll do it for the good of the world,” Aang said. “Not because I’ll enjoy it.” 
Zuko grimaced and opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N interrupted once more before they could devolve into this conversation again. 
“Like Sokka said, this place is huge.” She placed a hand on Zuko’s arm. “Will we have our own rooms?” 
Zuko’s brows creased a bit, but he nodded after a moment. “Yeah. There should be enough for all of us.” 
“Suki and I can share,” Sokka said, stretching his arms out casually to reach one around Suki. She laughed and leaned her head against his chest, and he looked far too pleased with himself. “Tryna make up for lost time, y’know?” 
“Gross,” Toph scoffed. “I’ll take my own room, please.” 
Aang glanced at Katara for a moment before he cleared his throat and nodded at Zuko. “Yeah. Me too.” 
Katara was too busy looking at a mask sitting on a mantle. She picked it up and glanced back at Zuko. “What is this from?” 
“One of my mother’s favorite plays,” he said. “She was an actress before she married my father, and every time we came here, we’d always go see some shows. They gave her the mask of the lead character after the end of one production a few years ago, as thanks for her patronage.” 
“Oh, we should definitely go see a play while we’re here!” Y/N exclaimed. “I got my hands on some old play scripts when I was still working in the palace, and the other servants and I would spend hours reenacting our favorite parts.” She chuckled. “It would be nice to see actual actors do it.” 
“We should be able to carve out some time for that,” Zuko said. “Between all the training, of course.” 
“You are such a downer,” Aang groaned. 
“I’m seeing the full picture!” he defended. “We’ve still got a lot of work to do—just because we’re at our vacation home doesn’t mean we’re on vacation.”
“After all this is over, we definitely deserve a vacation,” Sokka muttered. “Before all the rebuilding and restructuring and relegislating starts…” The smile fell from his face. “Wow. We’re never gonna get a vacation.” 
“Oh, perk up, ponytail,” Toph said. “We’re going to end the endless war and defeat the undefeatable Fire Lord. If we want to take a vacation, no one can really stop us.” 
The smile reappeared with surprising quickness. “That’s true!” 
Zuko laughed softly. “Your rooms should be on the first floor. You can explore and divide the rooms yourselves. I,” he looked at Y/N, “want to show you something.”
She smiled as Zuko pulled her closer with an arm around her shoulder and made for the stairs, leaving a rapidly growing argument over room selection in their wake. 
“Do you think they’ll have decided by the time we get back down?” Zuko asked. 
Y/N shrugged. “This is the first time they’re sleeping in rooms instead of camping on the ground in… Spirits. Since Ba Sing Se, I think. I wouldn’t be surprised if they go at it all night.” 
He chuckled as they stopped in front of a room, and Zuko pushed open the door so they could walk in together. 
“This was my room whenever we came here,” he said. “I figured we could share it.” 
“This is the height of luxury,” Y/N commented, stepping out of Zuko’s embrace to run her hand over the sheets. Her lips quirked into a smile. “I can’t believe you slept on a bed like this every night.” 
“You’re telling me they don’t have this kind of stuff in the North?” Zuko asked wryly. 
“No,” she chuckled, “definitely not. We were more focused on not freezing.” 
“Well, we’re more focused on pointless displays of luxury,” he said, “so you’re not too far off.” 
Zuko ignited the tip of his finger and began lighting candles around the room, and Y/N glanced at him with amusement as she sat down on the bed. 
“Mood lighting,” he explained with the sliver of a smile. “I think we deserve some time alone after the past few days.” 
She pressed a hand to her chest. “You know the way straight to my heart.” 
Once he was done he sat down next to her, and Y/N intertwined their hands together and pulled him down so they were laying on their backs. She rested her head on Zuko’s chest and he moved his arm around her to keep her close, tracing lazy circles on her shoulder. 
“Wonderful mattress,” she sighed. “So this was what you were up to while I was sewing clothes and doing endless loads of laundry.” 
“I thought about you a lot more than you probably think,” Zuko said. She turned her head a bit to look at him, slightly surprised, and he shrugged. “Honestly? When we were kids, I thought about you pretty much constantly. My father always told me not to talk to servants, but I didn’t see you as anything other than my friend. You were… kind of my only normal friend.” 
“Well, you were kind of my only friend, period. All the other servants were way older—they just felt like a different version of my mom.” Y/N’s gaze rose to the ceiling. “I wonder how they’re all doing.” 
“They should be okay,” Zuko said. “No one really caused as much trouble as we did.” 
Y/N laughed as her gaze flitted around the room, taking in all the details. A portrait of the royal family hung on the wall, while a much smaller, lone portrait of Zuko sat on a desk in the corner. He didn’t look very happy, but she couldn’t imagine sitting for that many paintings as a child was fun. What looked to be a half-finished message sat on the desk, the ends of the scroll rolling up and obscuring most of the inked letters. A neat stack of towels and blankets were on top of a clothing chest in the other corner, and she chuckled a bit. In her experience of doing his laundry in their youth, it seemed to be something he still hadn’t grown out of. 
“I can practically see little Zuko running in here after a day at the beach,” she mused. “The ends of his clothes singed from fighting with Azula, his hair drenched from swimming, getting sand all over the sheets.” 
“I wasn’t that messy of a child,” he complained. “I… I did come home with my clothes singed a couple times, though.” 
She chuckled. “I know. My mother had to fix a lot of your outfits because of it.” 
“It’s not my fault that ‘hide and blast’ was her idea of fun!” he defended. 
“Hide and blast?” 
“One person hides, the other person searches. By… blasting fire everywhere.” Zuko shook his head. “I don’t know all kids around the Fire Nation were as crazy as us or if Azula invented it herself.” 
“...Yeah,” Y/N said with a slight laugh. “We definitely didn’t play that in my village.” 
“Of course you didn’t,” he said. “None of you were firebenders.” 
“I was the only waterbender in the village though,” she said. “There were a couple other earthbender kids, but it made me feel so special. We would always play together and try to mix our bending together.” A small yet wistful smile tugged at her lips. “That feels like forever ago, though.” 
“I know what you mean,” Zuko murmured. “I was banished three years ago, but a lifetime has changed since then.” 
“For the better?” Y/N murmured. 
She could feel Zuko nod. “Definitely.” 
Their door was then pushed open more, and Suki poked her head in through the gap. A grin appeared on her face at their closeness. 
“I see the lovebirds are making themselves at home,” she mused. 
Y/N laughed as she sat up, pulling Zuko with her. She smiled at the sight of his flushed cheeks. “We’re trying.” 
“We believe in knocking here in the Fire Nation,” Zuko grumbled. 
“The door was open,” Suki said cheerfully. “And I’d like to steal your girl for an afternoon outing.” 
Her eyebrows shot up. “What for?” 
“Well, I’d like to explore the island some, and I figure we’re the lowest profile out of our whole group,” she said. “We’ve also missed out on some shopping while we were stuck in prison—we’ve gotta get our hands on some Fire Nation clothes.” 
Y/N’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea! Leya’s dress is beautiful, but Earth Kingdom clothing sticks out a bit more than I want.” 
“And I’m in literal prison clothes,” Suki said. “The sooner we’re in red, the better.” 
“That’s… probably smart,” Zuko amended. “There’s some gold pieces in my bag. It should be more than enough for both of you.” 
“Are you sure?” Y/N frowned. “You don’t have to—” 
“You think I didn’t take a bunch of money from the palace before I left?” Zuko asked wryly. “Don’t worry about it.” 
Suki’s smile grew. “Just call it reparations.” 
Zuko huffed a laugh, but Y/N cut him off as she pulled him in for a kiss. 
“You’ll be alright while we’re gone?” 
“Of course,” he said. “This is my home, after all. If anything, I should be asking you that.” 
“I’ve got the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors with me,” Y/N said. “If anyone decides to mess with us, it’s going to be their problem—not ours.” 
Suki laughed and gestured with her head, and Y/N stood up and started walking backwards. “I’ll see you later—try to have some fun here.” 
“I don’t have fun,” he called out as she was walking out, and she just shook her head with a smile. 
“You’re really dating a ball of sunshine there, aren’t you?” Suki joked. 
Y/N bit back her growing smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
-
The rest of the day went by in a breeze. 
Y/N and Suki spent a few hours in town, chatting and shopping and even doing some reconnaissance at the end, just to make sure they were truly undercover at the vacation home. Doing rookie spy work with a Kyoshi Warrior was surprisingly just as fun as the shopping part—and after what she and Zuko did to free her village, it was surprisingly easy. 
The sun was still high in the sky when they got back, dressed head to toe in Fire Nation finery. Zuko and Aang were in the midst of training when the two of them went around back to find their friends, and when he saw Y/N, his fire died out and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. 
(“Yeah,” Zuko had stammered when she asked his opinion, “You look really good.”
“Thanks,” she said, and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “I feel pretty good.”
“Fire Nation clothes suit you,” he said, and he pulled her into a kiss. “It’s about time you’ve gotten some.”
“Technically, I wore them for a few months,” she said wryly. “Prison clothes and all.”
Zuko scoffed. “That doesn’t count.”
“And I wore them for most of my childhood,” she mused. “Servant clothes and all.” 
“That counts even less!” he insisted. 
“But thank you,” Y/N finally said with a smile. “I was hoping you would like them.” 
It was an effort to bite back her joy every time Zuko would sneak a look at her while they continued their training.) 
The rest of the day was just mostly spent getting used to everything. The last time the vacation home had been occupied was when Zuko, Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee visited, so a lot of adjustments needed to be made. 
Katara insisted on washing all the sheets, and Y/N decided to join in because of her waterbending—Aang wanted to talk with Katara, Zuko wanted to be with Y/N, Toph wanted to ask him a bunch of questions about Ember Island, and Sokka didn’t want to be left out, so soon enough, the seven of them were all sitting on the steps of the house doing laundry and telling stories. 
Soon enough, the sun had set and the house had been cleaned what felt like ten times over. Everyone had retired to their own devices except for Y/N and Zuko, who were walking along the shore arm in arm. 
“I think I like beaches,” she mused. “The nearest ocean had no beach back home, and all we had in the North was ice. You Fire Nation folk are lucky.” 
Zuko chuckled. “I don’t know if it’s luck. We’re just one big island with a lot of humidity.” 
“Still,” she leaned her head on his shoulder, “it’s nice. We should visit here together once all this is over.” 
“Of course,” he nodded. “I know I’m going to be the Fire Lord if all goes well, but there’s going to be a lot of diplomacy trips.” She felt his eyes on her. “You can join me on all of them.” 
“Of course,” she repeated. “The Fire Lord’s Earth Kingdom-born, waterbending girlfriend will be so welcome.” 
“If you’ve learned one thing through all of this, it should be that I don’t care what anyone thinks when it comes to you,” Zuko said. “I want you there with me. You want to be there with me. That’s reason enough.” 
Y/N chuckled, and she ran her thumb over Zuko’s knuckles. His hands housed callouses, borne from hundreds of hours of explosive firebending and sword-fighting and years of life on the road. She always wondered how hands that treated her so softly, that revered her, were so capable of violence. 
“I know there’s going to be a lot of expectations for us,” she said. “Especially once you take the throne. But I— I’d like to take things as slow as we can.” 
“Of course.” Zuko squeezed her hand, his brows creasing. “I don’t care what anyone says or wants or expects. I love you, Y/N—we’ll go at our own pace.” 
“It’s just because we’ve spent the past year trying to kill each other,” Y/N said with a nervous laugh. “If we could spend this next year being in love with each other, that would be really great.” 
That actually got a laugh out of Zuko, and he gestured with his head towards the sand. When they sat down, he pulled her into his side. They fit perfectly together. 
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I think we’ve already gotten a headstart on that.”
“Good,” she said. 
Y/N sighed as she moved closer into Zuko’s embrace, his warmth a shield from the cool night breeze. She’d always run cold, and having a personal hearth made things much easier. 
“I wish we didn’t have to go through so much to end up with each other,” she murmured. 
“Believe me,” Zuko sighed, “I know.” 
“But my mother always told me that everything happens for a reason,” Y/N said. “And… I guess she’s right. Because I don’t think we would be here if all this hadn’t happened.” Something inside of her twisted, and though she tried to suppress it, the words came out before she could really think about it. “And sometimes I— I wonder why I’m still here.” 
He frowned slightly, allowing a short glance down at her. “What do you mean?” 
“I mean… you know what I’ve had to go through to get here. My village, the palace, the North, this journey with Aang, the capital prison, the Boiling Rock…” she shook her head. “Countless others have died or gotten hurt trying to protect me or save me. Our group— we were the first ones ever to escape from the Boiling Rock. So why do I get to be here? Why is my father gone, but I’m still here? I don’t deserve it more than he did. I certainly don’t deserve it more than Yue. So… I don’t know. Sometimes I just can’t understand why I’m the one that got to make it when so many others haven’t.” 
“Don’t say that,” Zuko urged. 
“It’s not the way you think,” Y/N said honestly. “It just feels like we’ve beaten every single odd.” 
“Maybe we have,” he said, “but it’s certainly not out of luck, or chance.” Zuko took her hand and intertwined their fingers together, giving her hand a squeeze. “You fought every step of the way to get here—a lot of the time, you were fighting against me. You’ve earned every good thing you’ve gotten, Y/N, and I think I might spend the rest of my life trying to be someone worthy of you.” 
“Zuko,” she lamented, “you already are.” 
“It’s not the way you think,” he echoed wryly. “I’ve loved you since the beginning, and despite everything, you still love me too. You kept giving me chances because you believed in me for some stupid reason. I wouldn’t be where I am without that—without you. I want to be the best version of myself every day so you know you made the right choice.” 
Y/N felt the heat rush to her cheeks as she smiled, squeezing his hand back. Nowadays, they were almost always touching in some way. Tonight reminded her why—she never felt more comforted, more at peace, then when she was with Zuko. 
“You… kind of just hit my next point,” she said with a nervous chuckle, curling into his side further. 
“Don’t tell me it’s more self-doubt,” Zuko said. 
“I can’t help it!” she defended. “I— I just have to make sure.” 
“Of what?” 
“That…” Y/N paused, her mouth suddenly dry. “That I’m still the one you want. Even after all that’s happened. After all that’s going to happen.” 
Zuko frowned, and he took her other hand, lacing their fingers together.  “Of course. Y/N, it’s always been you. It’s been true forever, even if I haven’t always known it.” 
“It’s not going to be easy,” she said softly. “I’m Water Tribe and Earth Kingdom. Your people aren’t just going to accept that, especially with you as their leader.” 
Zuko actually laughed at that, and he gave her a sideways smile. Months ago, staring into his hardened eyes used to bring her close to tears. Seeing him smile now, reassuring doubts that seemed so pointless in the face of his love—even after everything, Y/N considered herself the luckiest girl in the world. 
“Y/N, we’ve gone across the whole world doing things no one ever has,” Zuko said. “The seven of us are going to end a war that’s been going on for a century. Aang is going to defeat my father, and he shouldn’t even be alive. We’ve beat every single odd against us. I think getting my people to like you will be the easiest thing we have to handle.” 
“You think so?” she asked. The tension had dissolved some from her shoulders, her worries dissuading with each honeyed word. 
“I know so,” Zuko assured. “I’m gonna have to change the Fire Nation from the ground up. There’s no one else I’d want by my side while I do it. My people will see you the way I do, and they’ll love you just as much.” 
Y/N leaned closer and pressed a kiss to his lips. Sometimes she still couldn’t get over the fact that she could just… do that. Just kiss him, just smile with him, just be happy with him. Yue shone down on them as she pulled away, Zuko’s features glowing in the moonlight, and Y/N hoped her friend knew she was so much of the reason she’d gotten here. 
Happiness seemed out of reach, out of her cards entirely, for such a long time, and when she had it, it always felt like such a precarious thing. Sometimes she still remembered those days in the tea shop, the night in the catacombs. 
But with Zuko finally by her side, it was a tangible thing. Something she deserved. Something she already had. 
“We’ll do it all together,” she murmured. 
“Together,” Zuko agreed. 
And she laid back down on the sand, bringing Zuko with her. He pulled her closer, tucked into his side as he wrapped his arm around her. They laid there in silence, Zuko’s warmth heating her from the inside out, staring up at the starry night sky and reveling in the feeling of just being with each other. 
Together.
-
i'll tag ppl here because it's been uhhhhhh fucking YEAR and everyone's prob forgotten it exists and i also did tag lists while this was coming out but please do not ask to be added bc i dont do them anymore!!
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nohoney · 3 months
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thinking abt being out at a bar or party and texting us!touya that someone is hitting on you and he pulls up 😵‍💫
omg omgヽ(>∀<☆)ノ
warnings: drug use (cocaine), reader is slightly drunk, rough sex that’s a little dubcon, lil bit of choking, kinda exhibitionism
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It’s loud inside the bathroom with so many girls crowding and waiting in line to use the next available stall. There’s three tasks at hand you need to do while you occupy a stall; pee first, do a bump of coke, and text Touya.
A third of those tasks are completed, flushing the toilet and pulling your panties back up before smoothing your little dress back in its place. Hand sanitizer is spritzed onto your hands but you know it’s not a substitute for actually washing up. You just need your hands to be as clean as they can be as you unzip the little pocket inside your purse for the little baggy. You dig your keys out as well, using the tip of Touya’s house key to dip into the bag. For just a second, you hesitate over the amount you’ve pulled up from the bag.
There’s already plenty in your system that you’ve been taking over the last few hours.
Maybe that’s too much…
You lean down anyway and inhale the bump quickly into your nostril, repeating the process on the other side.
There’s only one last thing to do.
“You done in there?! I heard you flush!” the person on the other side bangs on the stall door.
“Gimme a minute! I’m changing a tampon!” you yell back even though it’s a lie. It’s not like they’d be able to hear you actually pull one out to verify; it’s way too loud. You do intend to be quick though as you pull out your phone to quickly text Touya.
Aw fuck, your hands are a little sweaty. Maybe you are little bit more anxious than you had led yourself to believe.
[23:07] pls come get me, i dont feel like being here anymore
You shove your phone into your purse and undo the latch for the stall. You step out and two girls step in together, slamming the door shut. Either they both really need to pee or they’re also sniffing a little something together in there. It doesn’t quite matter anymore since you had your turn.
Only cold water dispenses from the faucet as you lather soap into your hands. Glancing up at the mirror, you peek up at your reflection and sigh quietly when you see the pupils of your eyes slightly bigger than they’re supposed to be. It doesn’t look discreet as you inspect your own nose and make sure that there’s no evidence of what you just sniffed. The bathrooms seems to get louder as more girls enter but thankfully your business is done and you make your exit.
You manage to find your friends in the same spot, thankful that you don’t have to go searching all around for them. Touching the shoulder of one of them, you manage to get their attention but you lean in close to tell them that you’re gonna be leaving. “You leaving? You’re sure? When?”
Pulling your phone out of your purse, Touya had already texted back that he’d be in the area in about fifteen minutes. You wish it would be sooner but it’s not a terribly long time to wait. It is a long enough time for you to be convinced to have two more shots—for the road, you know?
You blink a few times, alcohol resting in your stomach and warming your bloodstream and needing to take an audible breath before you speak, “‘Kay, I’m leaving now. He’ll be here in like… soon.” you’re disorganized as you speak, aware that you didn’t say a proper sentence, “You have fun, okay?”
One friend is willing to part to walk you out to the lot. Your arms are looped together with them and it feels like a whole different world as you step out of the loud bar into the quiet parking lot. “You can go back inside, it’ll only be a minute until he comes.”
It’s a small back and forth, but your friend bids you goodbye to walk back into the bar after you promise that you’ll text them when you’re back home. Really you just wanted the space to dig and do another bump of coke on your own and didn’t feel like offering to share.
“Mm… good.” you mutter to yourself as you carefully zip up the small baggy and shove everything back into your purse.
“Yeah, it’s good? You feel any better?”
You jump as you look behind you to see a single guy having approached you. Admittedly, he’s quite cute and he’s dressed stylishly but you keep a guard up around him. You make some noncommittal noise and nod your head, crossing your arms over your chest and dig the heel of your shoe into the gravel.
The guy circled around and makes you wary, sitting on the hood of a car and making himself comfortable. You can’t help but make a face, thinking it’s obnoxious of him to sit on someone’s car as if he owns it. He seems to read your mind, fishing out keys from his pocket and pressed the button from his keys. The car briefly lights up and clicks audibly.
“It’s a little cold out here to wait for an Uber. You wanna get in? I can turn on the heater.”
No, of course not.
For some reason you have a hard time finding your voice, only making a disagreeing hum and shaking your head. Your arms cross a little tighter over your chest and you take a small step back.
“No? I’m being a gentleman, I swear. I think it’s kinda fucked that your friend left you out here to go back inside. But then again, if they hadn’t left you then I wouldn’t have been able to come up to you.”
You only sent them away so that you could have some privacy to snort some coke. Now you wish you hadn’t done that, or maybe you wish that you hadn’t been convinced to have those two exiting shots before leaving the bar so that you would be more aware.
“You look like you could use a little more of your stuff. Tell you what, I’ll do one with you. Facilitate a little connection, yeah?”
Is that why that guy is here? Just to bum a line off of you?
“The prettiest girls I know always have the best coke.”
Asshole.
“Doll!”
You jump in your spot, looking left and right quickly before turning around to see Touya walking briskly in your direction. Relief has you relaxing your body as he walks forward to you, although his expression also tells you that he’s kind of pissed. “I thought you were waiting at the front, I was holding up traffic looking for you at the entrance.”
“Sorry, sorry…” you finally manage to speak and face towards him, “I just didn’t want to be with all those people anymore.”
Touya glances up to the guy sitting on his car, making a face at him. He’s already bristling over the presence of another man nearby you. “And you are?”
“Just keeping her company, that’s all.”
“Well your company isn’t needed anymore, fuck off.”
Your head snaps up at your boyfriend for speaking rudely, but there is a part of you that’s relieved that Touya is sending them off with no kindness either. All you want is to curl up now under a blanket and just wait for sleep to come to you.
“Sure, no problem. Good to see that my friend is gonna get home safe.” The guy stands up on his feet, sure to lock his car first before walking off. The asshole has the nerve to wink at you as he walks away. And of course Touya noticed because the way he grips his hand around your arm is none too nice.
When the two of you are sure that he’s gone, Touya drags you off in the direction of where he had parked. You trip over your feet twice but manage to keep up with him, more than relieved when you see his car and actually managing to pick up your feet to get to the passenger seat.
“Backseat, now.”
Your eyes widen a little as you glance up at him but nod your head. You bend down a little and pull the lever to push the passenger seat forward, giving you ample room to climb into the backseat. Managing to shut the car door, you sit back against the cushion as Touya enters from his side of the car but startled with how much force he used to shut his door.
Touya joins you in the back seat, grabbing your hips and dragging you to lay horizontally on the backseat cushions. It’s a little bothersome to be handled so roughly, especially since you’re still drunk and your head is swimming a little from the motions. The moan you let out isn’t one of pleasure, your hands coming up to press your palms against your forehead to try to soothe you. But Touya’s hand goes under your dress, his fingers roughly tugging your panties down and grunting over how your legs just fall limp instead of keeping them open.
“I’m trying to take these off,” Touya growls before reaching to cup your jaw along his hand, “fucking help me over here.”
“Can’t it wait until we get home?” You whine but you know that there isn’t really a choice in the matter here. Your eye lids droop down, your eyes feeling tired and wanting to just shut even though your brain isn’t ready for rest any time soon. So you gather what little energy you have, your hands helping in bunching up the skirt of your dress and pull it up.
Touya slides your panties off and shoves your purse to the floor of the car, the contents rattling inside and the baggy sliding out. Just from seeing it alone, you’re perked up and you point to it. “Do one with me.”
“Fuck, yeah hand it to me.”
Managing to grab the bag off the floor, you’re careful to open it and hold it out to Touya as you sit up. “Got your key? ‘M too lazy to grab mine out of my bag.”
He lifts his shirt and grabs the pocketknife that’s clipped inside his pocket. Wordlessly he flicks the blade out and dips the tip of it into the baggy. You honestly hate it when he just whips out the knife without telling you first, it scares you every single time. There’s no complaint from you as he offers the first bump by holding out the knife towards you before doing himself. The knife is put away but he dips the tip of his finger along the inside of the bag.
He rubs the pad of his thumb along your lip slowly, intimately. The little exhale that leaves his chest has you sitting up a little straighter. When your tongue peaks out a little to lick at his finger, the bitterness of the coke also has you sighing. It’s not pleasant, but the numbing is a welcome sensation on your lips.
His hand grasps at your neck and his fingers pressing into the sides. “I don’t like seeing you around other guys, you fucking know that.”
“Careful,” you gasp out, “the bag.”
It’s still held in your hands but Touya just tosses it back to where your purse lays. You hope that it was closed properly and that none of it spilled onto the car floor.
“Something happen between you two? Hm? Being all buddy while you were out?”
You manage to shake your head with what little movement you could manage, cocaine once again flooding your bloodstream and awakening you. Your eyes are a touch wider and your heart races a little faster, you bite your bottom lip and savor the numbness from the coke your boyfriend had rubbed into your plush lips.
Touya hand slides to the back of your neck, his fingers massaging for just a few seconds before grabbing a handful of hair and pulling your head back. You gasp out in surprise, your eyes fluttering when he leans in bites at your neck hard. It doesn’t sting in a good way but you know it’s because he’s mad over how he found you. He’s insanely jealous and only tolerates one other man to be near you.
He lays you back down onto the cushions of the backseat, this time using the grip has on the back of your head to turn you to kiss him. The air between you two is getting warm and if things progress further, it’ll fog up the car. You pant anxiously, slightly frightened for people to pass by or worse— a cop.
There’s no care from the other party, not from Touya as he suffocates you in a kiss and desperately tries to undo his belt and zipper with one hand. Your own hands slide up along his back and you try to comfortably widen your legs as much as you can in the small space. It’s a little awkward but the need for one another right now trumps the choice of just waiting until you get back home.
“Fucking spit, spit onto my hand.”
It’s not exactly elegant the way he cups his palm just underneath your lips, and it’s certainly not sexy the way you spit and some of it slicks against your chin. It’s a frantic and needy moment that needs to be dealt with on the spot. He tells you to spit again, needs just a bit more to smear on his cock so that he doesn’t hurt you too bad. Your tongue lolls out and licks off your bottom lip of the spit that didn’t quite catch onto his palm.
You can still taste the coke on your bottom lip.
The head of his cock bumps against your cunt, slightly slick but not quite as wet as the two of you would like. It has to do for now, and you grit your teeth a little as Touya pushes the tip in. It stings but it’s nothing that you haven’t done before. Before Keigo, he’d hissed over how tight you always were when he’d first get in and then fuck you open. After Keigo, he’s gotten a little spoiled by not having to do as much work anymore because he enjoyed sliding in you after your other boyfriend had already made you slick and ready for him.
The small little hiss you let out is gone after a few seconds, your eyes rolling back a little as your legs are pushed to your chest. Your cunt is fluttering around him, the delicate skin stretched to allow him inside and you’re choking out his name.
“T-Touya, Touya!” You’re whimpering for him, your eyes briefly glancing to the window above you and seeing the moisture trapped inside the car. It’s going to reek of sex in his car.
“Oh fuck, you’re turned on huh? Your little cunt squeezed around me.” Touya laughs a little and tries to adjust himself, hating the small space of his car but just needing to make it work. He had to make do because he needs you now.
He fucks quick, the jingling of his belt moving along with his momentum. The air is warm and starts to feel sticky, your sounds are stifled and he’s gritting his teeth as he tries to fuck fast and be out of the area. Between breathless moans, he hears you bed, “Choke me, choke me please!”
Touya can’t fuck you properly, not like this in this annoyingly small space, but he just needs this quick fuck to help him feel better. He needs to hear your struggling gasps as he chokes you, a little rough as a small punishment for not waiting at the front of the bar with other people. He needs you to cum first so that he can fill you up.
Your mind buzzes, completely awake now not just from the drugs but from desperate and frantic fucking you’re being given. A small part of your mind thinks is the coke bag spilled or not, wondering if you could ask Touya to smear more of it along your inner lip this time. You want to be high on three things; the coke, the fucking, and from Touya.
You’ll have to settle for two at the moment, which is also fine with you.
“Your cock…” you brokenly whisper, grasping at his hand and slightly tugging it off, “your cock Touya, love your cock!”
He laughs a little and flashes you a lovesick smile. A drop of sweat drips along his brow, sliding along his skin to his cheek. It’s disgustingly sweaty and hot inside the car, but now the two of you are so intoxicated from one another that it’s not a bother anymore. Who cares, who cares!
“I know you fucking do, cockslut.” Touya chuckles, “Always fucking drooling to get dick inside of you. Bet ya when we’re done here, you’ll be bouncing on Keigo as soon as we’re home!”
The thought of Keigo pressing your head to the mattress while he fucks you from behind has you giggling, exhilarated at the thought of your other boyfriend also shaming you for being so hungry to get fucked all the time. It makes you cum on the cock that’s fucking you but you’re not exhausted from your own orgasm. You’re eagerly nodding your head and reach your hand forward to grab at Touya’s shirt and pull him towards you. It’s damp with sweat which would normally disgust you, but you hardly notice as you beg, “Fuck me, fuck me! Want you to cum in me and then watch Kei fuck me afterwards!”
Touya fucks franticly now, sloppy and urgent now that he’s excited at what’s waiting at home for him.
“Fill me, fill me with your cum please!”
How could he deny his sweet princess?
Without a warning, he slaps your cheek and chokes you to reach that finish line. His muscles are straining and his neck is uncomfortable being conscious to not get too rowdy so that he doesn’t bump his head along the car’s ceiling. The tensions snaps in him, cum flooding into your pussy and he notices that he’s shaking a little.
Yeah… that was a good fuck.
The two of you lazily kiss in the backseat for a little to calm each other down, but it’s getting late and Keigo is expecting them at home soon. No doubt he’s probably texted where you’re at.
You’re sitting in the passenger seat and shifting a little as cum leaks into your panties. It’s not pleasant but you don’t want to mess up the car seat. It’s a relief to have the windows rolled down, airing out the car that reeked of sex not too long ago. Touya navigates his way through the parking lot to find the exit but stops in front of the car of that guy who seemed to want to bum coke off of you.
“Touya?” you call to him when he exits the car and approaches the side of it. He briefly surveys the lot and deems it clear, flicking out the knife again but this time using the knife to slash the tire of the vehicle.
“Touya! What the fuck?!”
He slashes open two tires before getting back into the car and driving off.
“Was that really necessary? What if that guy finds out that it was you? There could be cameras to identify you!”
Touya waves his hand dismissively at you before setting his hand on your knee. “If I thought that there’s anyway I could be caught, I wouldn’t have fucked you in that lot and fucked that asshole’s tires up. He can suspect it’s me all he wants but it’s not like he’ll be able to find me so easily.”
“And what if he does? What if he presses charges?”
It’s another one of those times when he looks at you and you just shut up. He’s clearly gotten away scot free before and you don’t know how, but he decides how he wants to handle it and it’s not your business.
“There she is! Did you have fun, baby bird?” Keigo greets you immediately when you walk through the door. His embrace has you relaxing, his hand petting your back and also dropping a kiss has you smiling. “You guys fucked, huh? And you forgot to pick up takeout for me.”
“Ah shit,” Touya tuts as he drops his wallet onto the kitchen countertop and hangs his keys on the wall hooks, “fucking forgot. I’ll make it up to you after she gets cleaned up.”
Keigo playfully smacks your ass and starts to push you towards the bathroom, “You better. We’ll be taking a bath while you make my food.”
“But… but I thought…” you pout over at Touya, “I wanna… y’know.”
“She wants me to watch while you fuck her.”
He says it so easily and even though it’s a regular occurrence between the three of you, you squeal his name in embarrassment. But he promises you that he’ll be there shortly, turning away to rest his hand along his hard on and hiding the giddy smile on his face.
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tonicandjins · 1 year
Text
it's swowwen."
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CHARACTERS: lee donghyuck | haechan x reader
WORD COUNT: 700+
GENRE: established relationship
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this had to be written. please consider donating/tipping me
"it's swowwen." is the (unplanned) fifth installment from 23 moments with donghyuck
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“It’s done,” the text message says. “We are on our way.”
The text message from Donghyuck’s manager was enough to make you jump off your feet, barely slipping your shoes properly and almost tripping on your way out of your apartment. Donghyuck worked until one in the morning, based on the evidently exhausted text he sent saying he’d just reached the dorm. It was barely nine in the morning when you’d gotten a call from Donghyuck himself, groaning in pain, saying his wisdom tooth is going to kill him one day.
It’s been bothering him for quite some time now, and you’d told him again and again to have it removed. But there was always an excuse when it comes to the expense of his own health and well-being: his stupidly packed schedule you can’t seem to comprehend despite dating for over two years now.
It would have been the best time to say, “I told you so,” as soon as you’d heard him crying in pain, but of course, the first thing you’d done was call his manager because you know that Donghyuck would never. Because you know Donghyuck’s probably thinking of the comeback and with fear of being placed on an indefinite hiatus again. It’s an unhealthy and risky mindset—the way Donghyuck avoids the H-word by not telling people how he feels—but it’s something he’d promised he would work on.
He needs to work on it harder.
Hence, you find yourself running from your unit’s floor down to the main entrance. Donghyuck needs to be taken care of today, and with Dream’s schedule, none of the managers will be available to tend to him today, which is why they ended up deciding to send him to your apartment for the day.
A few minutes later, with careful eyes ensuring no fan or pap is around to see him, Donghyuck is nestled in the middle of your bed, snuggling with your pillows and comforter. You sit on his side, making sure he’s comfortable by fluffing up the pillows on his side.
“It’s swowwen,” he whines sleepily, evidently high from the dosages of anesthesia they gave him before the surgery. “My face. It’s swowwen.”
Unable to fight the urge to kiss him, you give him a soft, barely-there peck on the forehead, careful not to touch his face especially where it hurts. “It’s not so bad, baby. It’ll come down.”
“It’s very swowwen,” he repeats, sighing as he looks up to you. Donghyuck looks a lot like a baby right now. “I don’t want to look swowwen in pictures.”
“No one’s taking picture of you, baby,” you assure him, fixing your blanket on him and gently running your hand through his hair.
“I did,” he pouts. “I sent it in Bubble.”
You giggle. “If you don’t want to look swollen in pictures, why did you send it to Bubble?”
“My fans are going to keep it a secret,” he answers, eyelids heavy. “Don’t let me fall asleep. This is the only time I ever get to be with you.”
You smile. “Will you sleep if I come cuddle you?”
Donghyuck’s eyes give up on him, but he quickly opens his eyes, exaggeratingly keeping it open in attempts to stay away. “Come cuddle me. I won’t sleep.”
“Sure,” you say, moving one of the pillows behind him and allowing yourself to occupy the space beside your boyfriend. As promised, you cuddle him—carefully, of course. “I told you to get that removed last year. You didn’t listen.”
“You’re starting to sound like my mom,” he mumbles against your hair. “If you keep with that, I might just marry you.”
“You won’t remember anything when you wake up,” you chuckle softly, kissing his clothed chest. “Marry me, then.”
“Now?” he asks, determined. “Can we get married even if I’m swowwen?”
“Sure, we can,” you answer. “Alright. Tell me your vows.”
Donghyuck sighs. “I’m writing you a song.”
Among all the confessions, you’ve never heard this one before.
“But it’s not yet 100% completely done,” he mumbles. He’s starting to fall asleep. “So, I won’t tell you my vows. I’ll sing them to you.”
Then, Donghyuck hums a song you’d never heard of. The lyrics, as expected with his condition at this time, are all groggy and incoherent, but he sings about how cool it would be to run around and dance with you forever.
Donghyuck falls asleep like that. You wonder if he remembers all of this when he wakes up later in the afternoon.
(He doesn’t. He doesn’t even remember posting a picture of himself all swowwen.)
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httpsserene · 8 months
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i've been looking for weeks and months but can't find a single x male reader fic/au/etc... could u spare sum for the boys too😭🤲
ɪ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴡ/ ᴍᴠ33
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📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: max is over at daniel’s where they're supposed to be doing whatever best buds do. but somehow, the topic of his father comes up, and it brings max to a…realization of sorts. it also causes the two of you to argue, and for several discoveries to be made in the early morning hours; some of the depressing-kind, and some of the heartwarming-and-life-changing-kind. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:  angst and fluff (hurt/comfort). argument. jos verstappen's a+ parenting. no beta we die like alphatauri's engines. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: max verstappen x male!reader (race not specified) 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: ivy • frank ocean
ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ:  i *usually* don’t write for male readers (as a cis woman idk i think it’s sus? idk, but maybe it’s not since i do support and love mxm ships, so maybe that’s hypocritical?)....but since it is my first request and max’s birthday (when i started writing this) i figured i could spare sum for da boys :)))) i scrolled through the tag and most of it was f1 x platonic!male!reader which is lowkey depressing, the boys deserve to simp wholeheartedly with us girlies ✊🏽  i hope “the boys” enjoy this and it makes the f1 x male!reader life a lil better! (you also didn’t specify who you wanted, so i went with max bc of his birthday) big shout out to the best kitties in the world, jimmy and sassy, for being great sports in this fic ☠️ they were wonderful setting devices!  this is not an accurate description of max’s relationship with his father. we all don’t know what’s going on there, but it did become a wonderful plot point. so, it’ll probably be the only thing jos the boss is good for besides being max’s sperm-donor 🙂.
want to be added to my taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me a message !
prompts from @forestryprompts and @dumplingsjinson
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it’s 3:23 AM, and you’re brutally jarred out of your sleep by your phone ringing. you’re disoriented–still in that sleepy “where the fuck am i” stage–and don’t quite catch the first phone call. a few seconds pass by without another call, and you’re convinced you hallucinated. usually, there’s only two reasons for you to be disturbed in the middle of the night. number one, when sassy “accidentally” presses all ten pounds of her body weight into your spleen with one paw; and number two; when max returns from partying, a late flight, or streaming. glancing around, you guess sassy is the bengal curled up on max’s side of the bed, gravitating to where his scent is the strongest as max is over at daniel’s; missing her favorite parent. and you guess that jimmy’s the heat source curled against your feet under the duvet, as that’s his favorite spot to sleep and his favorite place to prey on your toes. you lay straight back, head resting on your pillow and shrug, dismissing it as a problem for the morning.
then another call starts ringing through. now, you’re awake enough to start processing the important information. you always set your phone on dnd when going to bed, and there’s only a few numbers that are set to bypass it during sleep. this ringtone in particular, identifies the caller as max, which is peculiar. max doesn’t disturb your sleep unless absolutely necessary, he already feels guilty enough for doing so when traveling. with that thought, you reach for the phone with a reaction time you’d only relate to your boyfriend’s occupation. 
you breathe out, “maxy, baby? are you okay? did something happen?”
a panicked and slightly desperate giggle slips out of the receiver, “heyyyy, it’s daniel, actually–”
“daniel?” you softly exclaim, sitting up in bed, worriedly continuing, “where’s max? did something happen? is he okay–”
“well,” daniel starts, “i wouldn’t say he’s ‘okay’, so to speak–” 
“oh my god! what does that mean, daniel? i’m coming over right now give me like, fifteen minutes–” you say rushedly, already leaping out of the bed. jimmy yowls in shock of being disturbed, panically darting out of the duvet, and sassy shoots up–airplane ears activated and all. 
daniel cuts you off, “NO! uh, no! i’m actually already on the way back to yours with him right now! he’s like- kinda drunk- tipsy i guess, one would say uh- but–”
“are you driving, daniel? if-if you’ve drank you should’ve let him sleep over, or called me to come get him if he’s being a menace!”
“no, uh-” daniel starts whispering, “we’re in an uber. ma- i mean- your boyfriend is kind of out of it, and not in a drunk way.”
“what the fuck,” you bite out, switching to hold the phone to your ear with your shoulder, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants (max’s) over your boxers, “does that mean, daniel?!”
“so, like,” daniel whispers even quieter, “hypothetically, we started talking about ma- sorry, his- wonderful childhood, and i guess me saying that seeing his father stabbing a mechanic with a fork isn't a normal thing to experience, kind of sent him into a spiral.”
“oh, fuck” you pause, while pulling one of max’s championship hoodies on. 
“yeah, that’s pretty much what i’d say,” daniel sighs, “but, then um, he tried to like rationalize it to me? like, he’d bring up different crazy memories, and i’d be like ‘no, mate, that’s not normal either,’ and everytime he’d bring up a positive interaction with his dad, he realized it correlated to how well he performed, and he kind of um-shut down.”
“oh. fuck.” you repeat. sassy, in a rare show of solidarity, winds between your legs and mews gently at you as if she’s letting you know that she’s here. “um, well,” you say, running a stressed hand through your hair, “you should be on max’s list to come up to the apartment, but i’ll call down to give them a heads up. text me when you get here, please?”
“will do,” daniel perks up, “i’m sorry by the way. i should’ve left it alone, or distracted him away from the topic. but you know how he gets, probably better than me.” 
now it’s your turn to let a depressing chuckle escape, “probably not, dan. i’ve known him for fourteen years and dated him for five of those, and he hasn’t done more than agree that his dad ‘isn’t perfect’” you wave your hand through the air, brushing the train of thought away, “anyways, i can get the spare room ready for you, so you don’t have to uber back?”
daniel nervously laughs, “forgive me for saying this, but i don’t really want to be present for whatever conversation is going to happen. or have to pretend like i’m unaware of anything. max would do his best to avoid me for as long as he can if he knew i was around, and i don’t want to risk that…after what happened when i left red bull.”
“yeah, you’re right. don’t forget to text me when you get here,” you state.
daniel’s text comes through when you’ve just gathered the ibuprofen and water bottles. you thumbs-up the message, and go to sit in the living room to wait for a knock on the door.  you plop down on the couch and your leg bounces anxiously. jimmy gracefully hops up into your lap, and he must be an emotional support cat because he sits down on that leg, and leans into your torso butting his head into your chest asking for pets. you indulge him, a shaky laugh erupting, “thanks, jimmy,” and you lean down to press a few kisses to his cheeks. silence overcomes the room, and then three knocks break the still air in the apartment, and both you and jimmy jump off the couch and race to the entryway. you push jimmy behind you with a foot as you open the door, knowing damn well he’ll sneak into the hallway if given a chance. 
max stumbles through the doorway first. his eyes are bloodshot with a cold and unseeing look glazed over them, red-rimmed and looking so distraught at tonight’s realization, that your heart aches for him. you wish you could take his pain away, or at least carry some of it for him. his hair is sticking out in different directions like he was anxiously tugging at it, but the most surprising observation is the tear tracks on his cheeks. max doesn’t cry, like at all. 
well, that’s not exactly true. he’s one of the men that says crying is “strong” and not a sign of weakness when you cry and even encourages you to cry it out on his chest. but, when it’s himself, he refuses to cry until everything gets too much. he’ll come up to you and sit or stand pressed right up against you, grabs at and plays with your hand to let you know that he needs comfort, before he looks at you and softly asks with a cracking voice if he can have a hug. you always set aside what you’re doing as quickly as you can, because you’re not going to let an opportunity of caring for max in a rare vulnerable time pass, and pull him into your chest. even though he’s broader than you, he appears to shrink himself within your arms, and presses his face into your shoulder while he cries. his tears are always silent, but his body is loud; he shakes, and his hands grab at whatever you’re wearing in fists like he’s afraid that you’d slip out of his grasp.
anyways, you’ve never known him to really cry with other people. with a soft, “max…” you reach out to him, but he brushes right past your hand and goes straight for the bedroom. jimmy trots after him, and sassy falls into step from whatever pocket she was hiding in. you freeze, shocked at his behavior while also understanding, he’s had a life-changing realization that he’s never allowed himself to address. you feel guilty that you're jealous of the fact that he had it with daniel. 
daniel clears his throat, still standing outside the doorway, “...you know he doesn’t mean to ignore you like that, right?”
you nod, “when did he start crying?”
“he held it together until we got into the uber, i think. he was turned towards the window the whole time and refused to look at me. i didn’t notice he cried until we got out.”
“are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? it’s late, dan. or at least let me get you the uber back” you offer again with a questioning look.
daniel refuses both options, “nah, don’t worry about it. i’ll make max take me to lunch one day to pay me back. i’d say good luck but that seems redundant. be gentle with him, alright?”
you sigh, “i’ll be gentle, dan. can’t say the same for him,” daniel’s face saddens more, “get home safe alright, dan? text me when you get there.”
“of, course,” daniel nods, “goodnight.”
you watch him walk into the elevator before closing the door. you turn the lock, and step forward until you can rest your forehead onto the cool wood. eventually, you push off the door and turn around to grab the water and ibuprofen from the settee and make your way to the bedroom. max is sitting at the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands.
pausing, you place the water and meds on the nightstand first, then you sit next to him and lightly place your hand on his upper back, attempting to rub between his shoulder blades to provide comfort. max shrugs your hand off. you pause, blinking a few times trying to discover the best course of action. you decide to ignore the second blatant dismissal of the night, and pull his hand off his face and push him to sit up straight. you forcefully straddle his lap, ignoring his grumbles, and grab his face, thumbs resting on his cheeks and directing him to look straight at you. 
“max, you’ve got to communicate with me here. i was terrified, when daniel called me! you refuse to talk about your dad with me, which is fine, okay? but you have to talk to somebody. whether it’s me, daniel, a therapist, christian, or even fucking helmut marko—you need to talk to someone. you’ve repressed this shit your whole life, and when whatever film you had over your eyes when looking at your father slipped away, you shut down completely? that can’t happen again! i don’t want it to happen again…daniel sounded completely fucking terrified—like he was afraid he broke you or something. and if you’re scaring me right now with how-h-how out of it you look, i can’t imagine what it was like for him,” you finish, taking a few deep breaths. max doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly. 
you make a distressed groan, both hands releasing max’s face to rub at your eyes and drag down your cheeks. doing so, you continue talking, “max. you don’t even have to talk, baby, not to me at least. i don’t care if you journal, if you meditate, if you go goddamn axe throwing; but, you need to see a professional. cause, how your brain is coping, and how you’re rationalizing it isn’t good. you aren’t the problem, nothing you could’ve done differently would have made your dad change; you are not the problem, max, he is. okay? i’ve known you for fourteen years, and not once have i pressured the topic after you said that ‘you’re fine,’ but, you have to at least promise me that you’ll start doing something.”
max parts his lips, thinking about what to say, as you fully sit on his lap. you look at him with wide eyes filled with worry—with care— and you’re anxiously playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck. 
“i don’t want to talk about it.”
“that’s not an option,” you state, with a furrowed brow, “can you at least tell me what caused the breakdown?”
and, that’s what gets get’s max going. his cheeks flush, and his eyes darken, and he starts talking with a firmer voice.
“it wasn’t a breakdown, first of all. i was just overwhelmed and overreacting. it’s nothing serious, like you’re pretending it is. i don’t need this—this false worry, showing up all of sudden when you know how the relationship between my father and i has been for all of the time we’ve known each other.”
you pull away, retreating off his lap and stand in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest. 
“false worry?? that’s what you think this is,” you start with an exasperated tone, “max, ‘for all the time we’ve known each other’ all you’ve done is deflect from my questions about you two, or tell me that everything is fine when it’s clearly not! and i gave you the space you wanted, because i was afraid that you’d stop talking to me, that you’d stop trusting me. but now, as your boyfriend, i can’t let it go unaddressed anymore!”
“you already did for fourteen years! it shouldn’t be that difficult for you to keep ignoring it.”
“because you asked me to, max! you didn’t want to talk about it then, and you need to talk about it now! i don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to share it with me, but it needs to be with somebody!”
“i already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you keep insisting!” 
“that’s because i fucking care about you!” 
“well, did i ask for you to care about me?”
you’re stunned silent. the room is filled with heavy breaths from the two of you. this might be the most serious argument you’ve had, in awhile, or ever. 
it’s the third blatant dismissal of the night, and you’re calling it quits, daniel did tell you to be gentle, and if you keep going like this you’re word choice will become less gentle.
“you’re right,” you exhale, relaxing your clenched jaw, “you didn’t ask for me to care. and you shouldn’t have to ask for anybody to care. and, for some ‘unbelievable’ reason, i do happen to actually care,” you finish, your words dripping with exhaustion and defeat.
you walk around to the side of the bed, grabbing a pillow off the top and point at the nightstand, “the ibuprofen and water are for you. at least, finish one bottle before you go to bed, please.” you start walking towards the closet. 
“wait,” max calls out, finally standing up with a confused look in his eyes, “why’d you grab a pillow?”
you grab a blanket out of the closet, and sigh, “i’m sleeping on the couch.”
“what? no-no you’re not,” max stutters out, disbelieving.
“uh, yes i am.”
“what, no! no, schatje, i’m sorry, please come to bed,” max utters out, looking absolutely heartbroken. 
“i’m going to sleep on the couch, max,” you repeat, “if i go to bed, i won’t be able to not talk about it, and we’re clearly going to talk in circles about it. both of us are tired, frustrated, and mad, and we’re going to end up even angrier, so i’m going to sleep on the couch.”
max, crossing the room quickly, grabs at your waist with his large hands, and pleads, “if you’ve made up your mind about it, you can at least take the bed, i’ll sleep on the couch, schat.”
you, grab his hands off your waist, having to fight him a little bit for it (you may be a man, but your man is a professional athlete, you’ll be outmatched any day) and press them into his chest, “you’re still pretty drunk, max. i’ll let you take the bed so you can be comfortable, you seem like you’re going to have a pretty bad hangover, i can smell the alcohol on you still.”
max looks upset, but eventually concedes. you press your lips to his cheek, “i’ll see you in the morning, babe. then, with clearer minds we can talk, ‘kay?”
sassy baps jimmy on the face before nuzzling in between max’s legs, while jimmy makes to follow you out as you shut the door gently.
situating yourself on the couch, you squeeze your eyes shut. usually you’d be hugging max’s arm to your chest but tonight, jimmy is benevolent enough to leave his usual spot at your feet to fill in for max. even with the comfort the bengal’s purring body provides, you know you’re only in for a fitful night of sleep.
you wake up a few hours later, your body not able to keep you under for long you guess, as the early morning sun has barely started lightening the room. you take a minute to get your bearings, not used to waking up on the couch (in the past when you have accidentally fallen asleep on the couch, you magically wake up in bed laying on top of your boyfriend, how weird), and jimmy is no longer laying with you. he’s with max, who’s sitting on his floor below you, with his back facing you.
you rub at your eyes and whisper, “max?” he startles, and turns around to face you. his eyes have fresh bags underneath, his hair is still slightly damp from a shower, and you can tell he hasn’t gotten any sleep. even though you got a couple hours of shut-eye, the matching bags under your eyes prove that your sleep was restless.
“hey,” he whispers back sheepishly, “i know you told me to go to bed, but i couldn’t fall asleep. i only came out here a few minutes ago though, and i was just going to wait until you woke up in the morning.”
you sit up straight, and pull max onto the couch with you, “max, what? you could’ve at least layed down on the other couch, and not sit on the–”
max cuts you off.
“i just…couldn’t go to bed alone tonight, okay? i still feel raw–i think is the word for it. i’m exhausted and cried out, and the only person who can make me feel better is you right now. so i was just going to sit here, and be next to you, without disturbing you like you wanted, because being in your general vicinity already makes me feel better, even if you're mad at me.”
your mouth is left gaping, and you feel guilty now, your chest aches. leaving max at a time where he was vulnerable, even if you were right down the hallway–
“and, don’t feel bad about your decision to sleep out here. you decided that space was the best course of action for you, and you are probably right, because i was ready to argue with you,” max continues rambling, “honestly, you sleeping out here made me realize that i never want you to be angry with me like that, ever again. at first, i was scared that if i opened up about my relationship with my dad you would think i’m weak, or that you'd judge me for it, or that you’d leave me. but when i was in the shower earlier, i got really…scared.”
he pauses, taking a few deep breaths and you don’t make to interrupt him.
“i got scared because i thought you left me right now. that you lied to me about sleeping on the couch, and you were actually planning to leave. and, obviously you did not, you are still here right now but, it made me realize that i do need to talk to you. and that the reason i thought you were leaving was because of how i thought i scared you away with my issues. but i realize now, that the way i’ll scare you away is by not talking about my issues,” he turns to look at you with an earnest expression.
“so, if you are okay with it, i will talk to you. about everything, even though it may take me some time to work up the courage. i am uncomfortable with talking to a…professional, but i will, if you truly think it will help me. but i do not want to risk the chance that my refusal to communicate costs me a lifetime with you,” he ends.”
you stare at him blankly, and max begins to fidget at your silence. you lean forward and pull him into a hug, tears gathering in your eyes. he nestles his head in the crook of your neck, and presses gentle kisses into your skin. 
“max, all i want is for you to talk to me about it. i want to share the burden you feel, and understand you better than the back of my hand. most of all, i hope having somebody who understands you to that depth makes you feel lighter, and validates your emotions.”
max says something, but it’s muffled by your body.
“what was that, baby?”
max pulls away to look at you with bashful eyes and pinkened cheeks, “you know i can’t imagine my life without you.”
“likewise,” you respond, just as meek.
“no, really. i've fallen in love with you,” he continues.
“max, you told me you loved me years ago,” you say laughingly.
“no, like, i’ve fallen in love with you again. everytime i think i can’t fall any deeper, you manage to prove me wrong,” he says intensely.
you pout at him, hands coming up to feel at your heated cheeks, “oh, max! stop, you’re going to make me cry. that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. i fall in love with you again, everytime you finish a race, and come home to me. that you chose me as the man you want to see after a tiring race weekend, regardless of the outcome. 
max smiles all teeth, “there’s no other person i want to share my highs and lows with. well, hopefully more highs than lows. i have the ring for you already, but i at least need to win eight championships before i retire so you’re able to marry a record-breaking champion. i am proposing to you this year though, i cannot wait any longer.”
you stare at him unseeing for a minute, and he looks awfully confused for a man who just announced his plans to give you his last name. 
“max,” you start shakingly, “what do you mean you already have the ring?”
max’s carefree expression drops, and becomes pale, “what are you talking about? i never said anything about a ring–”
“you literally just did?! the part before you said you were proposing to me this year, and before becoming an eight-time world–”
max claps, cutting you off while standing up. he offers you his hand, “alright! we should go to bed now, right? together, yes that’s a great idea.”
taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems
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© httpsserene 2023
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usuibu · 2 months
Note
Omg!!! I live ur writing so much! The way you write eren is like literally perfect!! I was wondering if I could request reader walking home or at a party or just like out somewhere and they notice some people making her uncomfy and they cal eren to pick them up? Some fluff and comfort are my coping mechanism 😭
LMAO STOP THE COPING MECHANISM IS SO REAL💀💀 and ofc bb thankyou so much for the request i love you😋🥰
Im just gonna work off the whole saviour dynamic w eren and hopefully u dont mind
——————
More requests/masterlist
You don’t know why you’re here, you really should’ve just stayed home if only Mikasa hadn’t dragged you out.
“Cmonnnn it’ll be fun, I promise! Even Sasha’s coming!”
You really shouldn’t have listened to her, right now she’s - God knows where - with Sasha playing some obscure drinking game while you’re here sitting on the leather couch already intoxicated yourself.
You felt gross. Sticky even from the sweaty, crowded living room, humidity suffocating you. There was about 5 people on this couch made to fit only 2, you sat there staring down at your stupid sore feet in your stupid stupid heels with stupid strangers grazing your bare legs next to you.
The noise of the room tuned out as your tipsy brain was half conscious until you were snapped back into reality feeling a creeping hand on your shoulder.
Whoever was next to you was apparently speaking for long enough that you don’t know what they’re on about, “— or we could go back to my apartment..”
Your head snaps back up and you anxiously shrug off this guys tacky hand, sobering up just a little bit. Enough to start comprehending things.
“Sorry, I have to go” you say while peeling yourself off the leather, you don’t know where you have to go you just knew to leave because clearly you weren’t functioning well alone.
You turn and almost begin walking away until you almost trip on your stupid heels, this guys hand had gripped your arm rather too harshly to pull you right back onto the couch.
“Hey we were in the middle of something” he slurs, clearly a little more intoxicated than you.
You’re still so lost, why the fuck is he still talking? Why is this room is so hot? This couch is too sticky. His breath smells like shit. Your feet hurt like shit. You’re so tired all you want to do is leave at this point. All of your senses have been overwhelmed you can’t take it.
He continues to ramble nonsense again so you settle to tune it out again, unsure if your feet have the strength to even walk away and give resistance against this random ass guy if he tries anything worse.
You pull out your phone from your unpractically tiny bag and open your messages.
23:16 — Eren
Erenb
Yes this is erenb
Can gou pixk me up
How drunk are you💀
Honestly nor that nuch this tine
Thid guys bortherijf me hurry up ples😋
This guy??
What’s going on?
Donr asknme idek myslef💀💀 hes jusr weirdinf me out
Im coming dw mika sent me the address earlier
Otw
He didn’t lie when he said he’d be quick, honestly Eren was waiting for you to return from the party. He got too bored sitting in your apartment alone watching tv.
You get a call and immediately shoot up knowing Erens arrived. You’re still too drunk to process whatever this guy was doing.
You think he’s following behind you? Who knows? You get out the front door with a cool breeze hitting you. It’s much quieter out here which would be nice if this guy wasn’t still trying to pursue you even after a good ten minutes of radio silence from you.
You feel your body sigh with relief as you spot Eren’s car, you make eye contact with him through the front window smiling. You can slightly see how he grins at your drunken walk in your painful heels until your vision spins to face the guy.
His hand was now on your shoulder and before you knew it Eren was getting out of his car. Whoever this man was he was clearly upset?? Clearly drunk and clearly mad at you. He’s rambling and you still don’t want to listen, hes saying something about you not mentioning you had a boyfriend or anything along those lines?
All you knew is that he was mad, you could feel it in his inebriated grip on your shoulder. Then you start to feel the alcohol coming back up you’re system as his other hand creeps to hold your waist. “Cmon ditch your boyfriend”
Before you can get a word of disgust out you feel familiar arms save you from this repulsive guys hold. Eren shoves his chest as he drunkenly stumbles backwards.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Eren spits out as his arm ushers you to stand a little behind him. He isn’t really one for violence when it’s a complete stranger. He has better things to do than that.
He can tell he’s drunk and after a few nonsensical sentences pour out the guys mouth; Eren’s done eyeing him down with demise so he walks you back to his car while the guy drags himself back to the party.
“Are you alright?” He questions you while rubbing his hand against your arms to warm you up as much as he can walking down the party’s front yard.
“Yeah I’m alright now at least, thank you Eren”
“That guy looked fucking homeless”
You softly smile to yourself, at ease in Eren’s presence. Half the grossness you felt in that stupid party had already began dissolving.
The drive home was quiet, calm. You were dozing off in the passenger seat while you held his free hand in you lap. His thumb swept back and forth until you arrived home. He reaches behind into the back seat, you’re too hazy to question why really. Eren bends over to take off your heels to then slide ur home slippers on.
“I don’t know why you wore those tonight, you know they hurt”
“I know right?!” You huff back at him. He laughs softly at your drunken state and gets out the car. He opens your car door to usher you out and puts his arm around you to help you walk to your apartment.
He lies you down on the couch and tells u to stay which you have no real trouble doing. He returns to the room holding one of his navy blue t-shirts and grey shorts.
“Okay baby, take off ur dress” he says gently.
“At least ask me to dinner first” you retort back. You snicker at your own joke but take off your dress all the same. He slips his shirt and shorts onto you then carries you to your bed effortlessly.
“You’re soo strong, do you have a girlfriend?” you giggle while feeling up his muscular arms. He only laughs at you and quickly leaves to grab something. He returns again, your micellar water in one hand and your toner in the other, “hey which one is the makeup thingy to take it off?” He questions, trying to communicate with whatever sober is left in you. You point to the micellar bottle and he wipes your face with it. The cool water and Eren’s delicate touch was extremely soothing. Although making you even more tired it did sober you up a little more.
Once he’s done, he puts everything down and climbs in bed next to you, pulling the blanket up, he moves you so that you’re on your side and pulls your knee toward him so that your leg is over his legs. He moves his arm to lie under your neck and pulls your whole body nearer with his free hand now on the small of your back.
You inhale deeply the scent of his chest and neck, now intoxicated by his musky scent while his hand slides up to bring your head nearer while he breathes deeply too, face shoved in the top of your head.
He moves to place a chaste kiss on your forehead.“You okay?” He asks, voice just above a whisper.
“Now I am, that guy was weird”, you murmur back still with a face full of chest.
“Yeah he was a fucking weirdo” Eren says, now speaking at a normal volume. “You’re not going alone to those parties anymore, I’m having a word with Mikasa trust”
You laugh at his seriousness and press a kiss to his collar bone, “No laughing I’m serious” he smiles, making space between you too to be able to kiss your collar bone too. He litters playful kisses on your neck. You laugh more while he roughly moves on top of you to only press more ticklish pecks all over you; intentionally smothering you.
You stop him by grabbing both sides of his head and bringing his lips to yours. You kiss him softly while he willingly returns it. He deepens the kiss with his tongue swiping your bottom lip until you open your mouth in the slightest, letting him slip it inside.
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wayfayrr · 5 months
Note
Can I get a Christmas Pudding with a spiked eggnog to eat in?
Ps. love your work also when i checked your event gingerbread and candycane were a bit odd and didnt mention characters.. (as of 23:28 on dec 10)
order up - I hope you're happy with it <3
Yandere first 👀? It's been a minute since I've written for him but he's such a fun link to play with. I'll drop a warning for this though - he's got a few issues regarding divinity and theres a bit of blood/gore in it (although I know some people prefer that)
[Event masterlist]
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It’s nice being in a village again since who knows how long. Having another link join us was a nice surprise, even though he’s a bit more awkward than the others. Just a shame his ‘Hyrule’, despite it not being named yet, was so terrible. So empty and dead, full of abandoned villages, at least those that are more than charred remains. 
“If you’re overwhelmed by the crowds we can go back to the inn if you’d prefer.”
His grip on my hand tightened as he seemed to think it over, he’s clearly uncomfortable but there seems to be something stopping him from simply admitting it. I could force the issue and change the question, maybe that could get and answer from him. 
“I was planning to go back anyway, might as well make the most of having a private room for now, right?”
“I suppose that it is getting late now.”
I know that links sacred form is a wolf, but does he really have to lean into the clingy puppy side of it? Not even the rancher is this bad as wolfie, and he’s a literal dog at that point. He isn’t asking to share a room with me though which is nice, even though he’s a link and kind at that, there’s something off-putting about him. 
“Mhm, I’m definitely certain, it’ll be nice to call it early for once too.”
“Right then dear.”
How is he already so comfortable with using pet names for me? He’s known me for less than a week, yet he already sounds like he sees himself as my lifelong partner or something. All of the others have those types of names for me too, but with them? It took a while for them to warm up to me, I wouldn't have stayed with them half as long if they were like this. 
“You remember where your room is right?”
“Actually dear, I wanted to ask if I could come to your room in a moment, I’ve gotten you a gift and I think it’s a good time to give it to you.”
…A gift alone in my room, what is he planning?
“I saw it in town earlier and I was just going get it for you so I could keep it a surprise.”
“You really don’t need to get me anything link.”
“I want to though, it’s the least I could do for you.”
Just a hum. I’m not going to be able to convince him one way or the other, am I? Really though, am I overthinking this, what harm could a gift cause after all? 
I don’t have to wait for too long though, taking the time to sort through my belongings and practice some of the stitches legend and wars taught me to mend my clothing. If I had to guess then I was only waiting for about thirty minutes till there’s a knock on the door. 
“Link you -”
“Why are you covered in blood?”
He’s just smiling. Smiling and holding a package in his hands. 
“I was just getting you a gift, my deity.”
“I-”
There’s no time to even respond as he’s shoving it into my hands as he walks in. I have so many questions but so few answers, why is he so bloody, why is it dripping, why is it warm? He’s looking at me so adoringly though, waiting for me to open it so politely. You know how to untie a knot [name], you can do this, you’ll only make it worse for yourself if you don’t open it. 
“Do you like my sacrifice for you, my deity?”
It’s a freshly butchered heart. Dripping with blood in my hands. He’s killed someone and torn out their heart to give me wrapped up as a gift. And now he’s looking at me for praise, he wants me to praise this. I feel like I’m about to throw up.
“You I… I don’t….”
“He was looking at you and trying to court you earlier and if there’s one thing that I learnt from hylia. It’s that gods adore sacrifices in their name.”
“But… I - I’m not…I’m not a god link.”
He doesn’t believe me, he’s got a sickening smile on his face like he’s done a good thing. Wait - why is he? The feeling of his blood sodden hand stroking my face is even more sickening than the heart still in my hold - why haven't I dropped it - he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. He’s proud. 
…What have I gotten myself into.
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epione-xx · 10 months
Text
Our weather
Short and cute bbys
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Thunder flickered through the apartment windows, but with Damian’s hand in your own it just felt like dramatic lighting that was emphasising every move you both made.
One hand in your own and a hand in your waist you two both danced across the hardwood floor of his bedroom in the manor, a big grin on your own face and a content smile on his own.
He twirled you, you giggled, the world was perfect as you landed back in his arms.
“I love you” you whisper softly as you lean against his shoulder, his strong arms wrapping you in a cuddle with his chest to your back and his chin on your forehead.
“I could tell you a million times iver believed but it would never express how much I love you “
The rain pelted against the window, but it was no match for the old record player and the two heart bears that filled the room.
‘1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3’
“It’s half past four Damian!”
The scene changed quickly, you’re wrapped in white sheets and your hair is messy as you stared at your boyfriend.
His covered in blood- your floors are covered in blood! It’s 4 a.m, you’re freaking out but he doesn’t move a muscle as he looked at you.
“Damian! Answer me!”
Your angry, your pissed, your tired and your sad and most importantly, your begging for him to answer you and to tell you what you need to hear.
Finally, he does.
“It’s half past four” his boots are heavy and stiff and he doesn’t know how to get out his next words “and I think we need to break up”
Seconds feel like hours, but hours feel like minutes. He’s gone and get his stuff is still here but you know he’s not.
And he’s never coming back, and the only sound that filled the room is the clock, no longer his voice or the music that you two usually had.
And like before, you count, but not to the beats of the music but to the ticks of the clock.
‘1, 2, 3, 4-‘
“5 more minutes beloved, that’s all it’ll take”
Damian’s hand is intertwined with your own, five years later and now 23, you couldn’t even recount the says that got you here, the days that got you both back in each others arms.
There’s so much weight on you, Damian is trying to support you as he holds your hands, rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, but it’s not enough, it hurts and you want it to stop.
Five seconds, you bare down hard and sobs escape your mouth, you wish you had done this at home, in the comfort of your own bathtub and with only your husbands fingers near your special places.
But you didn’t, and now you have to deal with that.
Damian does the breathing with you, but all you can focus on now is the immeasurable weight that you feel on your lower end.
Legs raised and body tense, you pushed again.
A baby cries- no screams- you’re the one crying.
A weight is placed on your chest, it’s so familiar yet so different and you and Damian both shed tears.
His hand lays on the back of your new child and kissing your hair as you cradle the tiny baby in your arms and wept.
He is so immeasurably proud as the doctor counted up the weight of the baby,
‘3, 4 , 5-‘
“6 counts beloved?”
You’re both sleep debt, the baby hands between you and Damian in a carrier that you both take turns of, right now it’s fastened to Damian and then baby is asleep against Damian’s back.
He offered his hand to you, you both look horrible but you can’t help and think he’s the most beautiful man in the world.
He helped you up, hand in his own and his hand on your waist, he begins to guide you. Counting the bears of the sing as you dance.
It’s raining, just like so long ago.
Damian thinks the rain is your weather, like how couples have a special place or day, the rain is your social weather.
It represents the two of you he thinks- well the three of you now.
He spins you lightly and pulled you back, you stare into his eyes and slowly pressed your nose against his own in a small Eskimo kiss.
“I love you”
“And forever I’ll say it, even if it doesn’t show how much I truely do…I love you too beloved”
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jjuniehao · 2 years
Text
[09:23 pm]: choi soobin || part 2
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“i’m done, i’m just gonna sleep on the damn floor,” soobin groans as he plops down on the ground, letting his back hit the wall and resting his head against it.
the two of you are currently in the process of moving into a shared apartment, and it’s going as well as one would expect: boxes everywhere, you’re both starving after hauling boxes and furniture all day, and none of the key pieces like your beds, couch or even just chairs are assembled yet.
…which means you’ll have to sleep on the floor on the first night in your new apartment. how nice.
soobin was the one that insisted on assembling it all yourselves, since getting it delivered and assembled is a scam, why would we pay someone to do that? it’s gonna be fine.
it wasn’t fine.
at first you were ecstatic to be moving in with your lifelong best friend, but now, staring at all the half-assembled pieces of furniture, little screws, metal pieces and manuals strewn all over the floor, you start to have your doubts.
“you know, if we had just payed—“
“if we had payed we would have wasted a shit ton of money, and for what?”
there is a scowl on your face, and it makes you wonder why he has such a personal vendetta against hiring someone to assemble some furniture.
“well for starters, we wouldn’t have to sleep on the stupid floor—”
“one night on the floor won’t kill us. you’re supposed to sleep on a hard surface anyways, right? it’s good for your back. i think, i dunno,” he shrugs at the end and you can’t help but snort at him.
“could you at least try to be convincing, bin?”
“listen, i’m just as pissed and tired as you. let’s just unpack some pillows and a blanket for now, and i promise we’ll work on our beds first thing in the morning.”
you observe him for a second, and only now do you notice the overwhelming exhaustion on his face. maybe sleeping on the floor isn’t so bad after all. maybe it’ll get rid of the kink in your neck.
you let out a sigh, and turn to the mountains of boxes, “fine. but you better help me look for a blanket.”
within 20 minutes the mess on the floor is made even worse by random pieces of clothes, cutlery, books and decorations strewn around. the mountains of boxes have been reduced to little hills consisting of half-empty boxes, the contents messily thrown around in the desperate search of a pillow or a blanket.
emptying another box filled with clothes and finding nothing of value you sigh and move on to the next one; a lighter box that upon opening envelops you in the warm, fluttering feeling of nostalgia.
the box is filled to the brim with childhood pictures, drawings and notebooks you filled out when you were younger, colouring books, diaries, sticker books — your entire childhood was staring back at you from that box and you can’t resist the urge to look through it all, right now.
carefully examining the contents of the box, you start by taking a closer look at the heaps of pictures, chuckling a little at the dozens of pictures of you and soobin. you and soobin during a play in kindergarten, holding hands and both of your faces painted in a wide array of colours. you and soobin on your 8th birthday, with him holding his gifts for you proudly into the camera while you’re standing next to him, most assuredly buzzing with excitement. soobin bidding you farewell for the two week camp your parents signed you up to when you were 10, both of you crying and unwilling to spend two weeks apart from each other.
“bin, come look at what found..”
“y/n, if it isn’t a soft, cuddly pillow i don’t want to—“ soobin cuts himself off when he sees the pictures in your hand, and you can tell he’s experiencing the same wave of warm nostalgia you had when you first opened the box.
he takes the pictures from your hands, sifting through them with a fond smile on his face. while he continues to go through the pictures, you focus your attention on the other things in the box.
sticking out between two wildly decorated notebooks was an envelope. upon closer inspection you can tell it’s a little older, the edges a little worn. the envelope is decorated with stickers and your name is written in confident but clumsy writing, a little heart scribbled next to your name.
you open the envelope carefully, not wanting to accidentally damage a childhood relic, especially one as cute as this. the letter inside makes you want to scream and cry thanks to the sheer cuteness of it all.
hello y/n
i like you
i will buy you an ice cream
so pleas like me back
mom says we can marry if you want
bye
there were little scribbles of cats, smiley faces, hearts and stick figures (that presumably represent you and your mysterious admirer) all over the papers, leaving little to no unoccupied space. they are delightful, and the contents of the letter are a whole different level of adorable.
you can’t help the little awww that escapes you, and soobin immediately leans over to check what has you swooning like that, when your original quest of searching for blankets and pillows seems to have been long forgotten. his eyes almost pop out his skull when he sees, no, recognises the letter.
“how could i have forgotten this? it‘s so cute,“ you mumble, and soobin snorts. “yeah, super cute how you can barely read it. i remember my mom making me practice writing it all out a few times because it was so hard to read,“ soobin chuckles and sifts through some of the other stuff in the box.
you just blink down at the letter, then up at soobin. he was so casual about it, as if it was a well-known fact. feeling your heavy stare on him he stops rummaging and meets your eyes, “…what? is there dust on my face—“
“you wrote it?“
the disbelief in your voice makes his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, nodding silently. why were you so surprised? who else would it have been, other than him?
“bin, you‘re telling me you had a crush on me and didn‘t think to tell—“
“i was like five, what does it matte—“
“yeah, you were five but you wanted to marry me! that’s a serious crush—“
he groans and snatches the letter from your hands, folding it up and fiddling it back into the envelope, “let’s just forget this, it’s history.”
you grin and pinch his cheek, making him scowl and stare at you with furrowed brows, “well, how can i know it’s history if you never told me about it?? you could still want to marry me! so tell me bin, what about me—“
“y/n please, we were five! everyone else was ‘getting married’ and you were my closest friend, okay? even if i had a crush, it doesn’t matter anymore—“
“okay, then when did it stop?“
“what?”
“the crush. when did you get over me?”
he stares at you, stammering something akin to what do you mean and why do you care, though it comes out all jumbled. he’s shaking his head in disbelief, looking at you as if you’re crazy.
“it’s just a question, bin.” your voice is soft now and he hates it; hates the fact that it makes him feel like you’re pitying him, like he’s a loser. he can practically envision you telling him that it’s your fault and not his, how he’s your best friend, how you love him but don’t see him that way — it makes his blood boil and just throws him further down the hole.
he huffs and walks over to the other side of the room, ripping open another box, all in silence.
“..soobin?“ no answer, just him rummaging through the contents of the box.
“bin, i’m sorr—“
he suddenly pulls out a blanket, and finds some pillows underneath as well. he briefly looks at you, kneeling on the floor to make a somewhat comfortable arrangement the two of you can sleep in for the night. you walk over to him and before you can react, he mumbles, “i don’t want to talk about it, okay? i‘m tired, please.“
you nod silently and go to turn off the lights when he is done building a (admittedly) rather sad looking sleeping arrangement, and as much as you want to tease him, it would probably just make him more upset. so you bite your tongue, laying down next to him and stare up at the ceiling in silence.
you‘ve slept next to each other countless times, but not once did soobin seem this hell-bent on bringing as much space as possible between you two. “night,” you mumble, fully expecting him to ignore you, but to your surprise he says it back. the two of you lay next to each other like two wood blocks, and it’s incredibly awkward. this is you and soobin, there is no awkward between you two! both of you are uneasy, and you can feel his hand twitch next to you when you readjust your position a little.
taking a deep breath your own hand slowly inches towards soobin’s, until your pinkies are touching. it takes a while for either of you to move, until soobin carefully moves his hand towards yours. then you move yours a little closer, then him, so on and so forth until you end up with your hands tightly intertwined. you were ready to fall asleep like this and pretend nothing ever happened once you wake up tomorrow. up until soobin suddenly breaks the silence, that is.
“we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
you’re glad he can’t see your face, because you can’t help the goofy smile on your face.
“okay.”
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