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#WE GET THE SHOWER INCIDENT
thehardkandy · 6 months
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tonight i am walking the strut of "that bitch who put all her sheets through the wash" which i understand isnt really an earthshattering achievement but if it keeps me on top i will take it
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southislandwren · 2 years
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ive been astoundingly Normal at my internship so far so maybe [redacted] just made me act like that :/ i bet it was that damn mustard gas incident
#actually the mustard gas incident happened during my 6th month at [redacted] so i was insane for a good while before that happened#but ive been SOOO normal working on this farm. ive had like 3 minor incidents that i barely remember. thats how normal ive been#ofc i think working 1 on 1 with someone vs. letting an 18yo loose in a factory produces very different results#this is a nature vs nurture issue i think lmao. hopes inability to function vs being inside 12+ hours a day or touching grass 24/7#i do have a hunch that ill become Abnormal soon bc my aunt revealed some info that has got me Thinking#(apparently my boss is not all the way straight. this info revealed during pride month. girl we have got to go to a pride parade together)#diary post#also have you guys figured out yet that if you block 'diary post' you dont have to see posts like this from me#i am so fukcing sleepy i was going to stay up and play ultra sun but im tired :( cheese day today so ive been up since 5#but i found up my boss gets up at 3:30 fucking am EVERY DAY#girl the milky way is still RISEN at 3;30 in the summer that is SLEEPING HOURS!!!#kinda want to be like. bestie can i come over at 4am and we can look at the milky way together. i can show you the constellations i know.#ofc that would mean i have to wake up at 3:30am but like. milky way my beloved <3#or i could sleep at her house (especially now bc her husband is on a fishing trip and it wouldnt be weird it would be like a sleepover)#and then i wouldnt have to drive 10 minutes at the ass crack of dawn.#not even the ass crack of dawn the sun rises at 5:30 she wakes up fully nestled within the ass of night#i cant. i would rather kill myself than wake up at 3:30 every morning for the rest of my life#anyway im tired and i want a cat so at least one of these farm people im working with should give me one of their barn cats.#you dont need 6 cats but i need just one little creature :(#okay great post guys. hit the showers
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dumbseee · 2 months
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oh shit.
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pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.
pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.
genre: fluff
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- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.
- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.
- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.
- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.
- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?
- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.
- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.
- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.
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coco-loco-nut · 29 days
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Clumsy
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader, Lando Norris x Twin Sister
Summary: You can’t help it if you’re a little accident prone
a/n: thanks for the request!
requests open masterlist
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"Y/n, watch out," Lando grabs your arm, pulling you back. You give your twin a bewildered look before noticing the puddle on the ground.
"Thanks, Lan," you exhale. You and Lando were yin and yang. He was an asshole (at least to you), you were sweet and kind, he has done more than he will ever tell you, you are innocent compared to him, and Lando drives fast cars in circles following precise lines, you are always falling over the air.
"I don't think you should come out to the bars with us tonight," Lando says, a little too worried about you. He's your protective, slightly older brother.
"Lan, you never let me come out with you. Plus, you didn't invite me, Charlie did," you smile, referring to your boyfriend. Lando just shakes his head. You both somehow make it back to the hotel without incident.
"Charlie?" you call out to the shared room with your boyfriend. You hear the shower turn off so you just go to sit in the armchair to wait for him. You don't notice the bag on the floor and you trip, falling into the chair.
"Y/N!" Charles yelps, rushing out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist.
"Your fine- I mean, I'm fine," you stutter, blushing deeply. Charles let out an exhale, mixed with a bit of a laugh.
"What did you do, mon petit chou?" He asks, sitting on the bed.
"Tripped on the bag, in my defense it wasn't there earlier," you admit, laughing with Charles.
"Anything hurt?” Charles gives you a once over.
“My pride. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you lower your head in embarrassment.
“That’s ok. I’m going to finish getting ready for the bar,” Charles kisses you before heading back to the bathroom. You put on leather pants and a cute top you used to wear to parties while in Uni.
“You look beautiful, chérie,” Charles steps out, his damp hair pushed back and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. He has his glasses on, only making him more attractive.
“I’m going to be fighting girls off all night,” you smile as Charles pulls you against him, his hands resting on your lower back.
“Then it’s good that I only have eyes for you,” his nose brushes yours.You lean in, capturing his lips. You are interrupted by a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” Charles groans, pulling himself away from you.
“Are you guys ready?” You hear Lando’s voice. You grab your purse, despite knowing Lando and Charles will pay for everything. Charles wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you close in case you run into something you might trip over.
Surprisingly, alcohol in your system makes you less clumsy, something that Lando and Charles were surprised to see. You were having a great time dancing with Charles, his hands on your waist holding you close. Lando gags watching you, but is distracted by other drivers. You and Charles go back to the bar to get another drink after the song ends.
“I bet you are gonna sleep well tonight, Charles,” one of the drivers winks at your boyfriend. You look confused, not picking up the innuendo, but you brush it off and order two more drinks. You were drunker than normal, more than you have been in a while, and your clumsiness is returning.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you say in Charles’ ear.
“I’ll walk with you,” he says after noticing your stumbling. Oddly enough, there is no line in the women’s restroom so he walks in behind you, making sure you make it into a stall safely. You ram into the one wall, based on the thud he hears, and when you emerge there is a bruise on your arm.
“Amour,” Charles says, worried about you. “Want to go home? We can get you food to sober up,” he fusses, the both of you smell like alcohol.
“I’m okay,” you slur, Charles holds you steady while you wash your hands, seeing as how you stumbled to the sink. His grip doesn’t leave you as you go back to the bar to close the tab.
“Lando, we are going to food then heading back to the hotel,” Charles says, knowing you shouldn’t drink any more.
“I’ll go with you,” Lando excuses himself, wrapping his arm around you to help Charles. When you get to the fast food restaurant, Lando notices the bruise.
“What the hell happened?” Lando panics a little. Charles rakes his hand through his hair.
“Nothing, just an inchident,” Charles says. Distracted by Lando’s laugh at the phrase, neither of them notice that you slipped away to order food.
“Where’s Y/n?” Charles says, having a heart attack. You are clumsy, you could be on the road after being hit by a car, or bleeding out after accidentally cutting yourself with something sharp.
“Fuck!” Lando panics more, it takes them a minute to realize you are at the register fumbling with your purse. Charles inserts his credit card into the reader, paying for your meal.
“Charlie,” you pout.
“Stay by my side,” He kisses your pout. You make it home safe, likely due to the mother hens flanking you.
When you wake up, you feel Charles’ warm breath on your neck and his arms wrapped around you. You wiggle out, needing relief for your splitting headache. Unfortunately for you, this means you fell out of bed.
“Y/n?” Charles murmurs after hearing the thud. When he can’t feel your weight in his arms, he peers over your side of the bed to see you groaning on the floor. “You ok?” He asks, his morning voice deep and raspy.
“Hangover,” you groan, getting up to go to the bathroom. “Go back to sleep,” Charles doesn’t think much of it and waits for you to return to bed. He pulls you close when you lay back in bed, the best way to keep you safe are cuddles.
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oharababe · 4 months
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STRESS RELIEVER | MIGUEL O'HARA
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⋆𐙚₊˚ premise: you're struggling to keep your focus with the stress and miguel offers to ease that worry off you.
⋆𐙚₊˚ cw: explicit content, finger f*cking, dirty talk. 18+
⋆𐙚₊˚ tags: modern + college au. afab reader + playboy miguel.
⋆𐙚₊˚ wc: 3,573
a/n. this is long overdue for @spikedhe4rt who requested miguel to finger fuck reader as a stress relief. i aged reader and miguel to between 22-23 in this oneshot since they're college students. this fic is longer than intended but hey, we like to take it slow burn here.
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Sometimes you contemplate why you put yourself in this kind of situation. 
You were aware that you have exams coming up in the next few weeks. But you were focused on making sure that you got your assignments done before the deadline. So it was natural for you to prioritise those. You wish you had paid more attention to the dates because just when you thought that you would have more time to revise, you didn’t. Leaving you with only three weeks until your exam. And now you’re struggling to get information into your head. 
“Fuck,” you mumble. The machine makes a soft drilling noise as it pours coffee into your mug. You rub your forehead with your hand as you wait for your drink to finish. Thinking about what topics you need to revise for the exam. Mentally planning how you would organise and plan yourself for another long session of studying. It’s going to be another long night.
When your drink is ready, you stride your way to the dining table where all your notes and books are set. With not enough desk space you have in your room, the dining table has turned into your second desk to accommodate all the reading materials and your laptop to work on. You strap yourself in your seat, ready for another torturous session of studying for the finals. 
All the caffeine from the coffee, tea and sugary energy drinks didn’t last long in your system. At first, you feel the buzz of the caffeine that helps you go through two hours of reading and answering mock questions without a proper break. You feel yourself pushing through, feeling motivated that you can do this. But then, the effects wear off, and now you’re struggling through short video clips on your laptop after two hours into your study session. 
Your mind battles. Reminding you about the consequences of you losing more time. But you can’t be bothered at the moment. You are convincing yourself that you deserve a break from studying for fifteen minutes which turned into a two-hour rest and procrastination. 
At this rate, you know that you won't get any studying done. You’re going to have to face the consequences of that but you can’t be bothered about it for now. Staring mindlessly at your laptop with headphones on as you watch a reality television adaption to pass the time. 
“Dios, you’re still here this late?” 
Your eyes look up from your laptop to find your roommate in the dining area. Miguel stands at the entrance in his black leather jacket, red shirt underneath and dark-coloured jeans. His black helmet rests on his left lip and it looks like he’s returned from wherever he went or did. You didn’t realise that he wasn’t in the house you both shared all this time. “When was the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror? You look shit.” 
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You say. Your relationship with Miguel O’Hara is rather tricky, to say the least. Sometimes, the two of you get along and have a decent conversation with each other about careers, and personal experiences and share similar interests. Though other times, it’s not necessary. It’s mostly when he would bring people over to the house and then take one girl up to his room. Having to hear moans from the girls he fucked and Miguel’s growls and dirty talks. 
It annoys you to no end, especially the one incident when you walked into the bathroom with him getting a blow job in the shower. It’s still his fault for not locking the bathroom or even putting a sign on the door to say that he’s busy getting pleased.  
Even after that, your subtle attraction for Miguel still resonates with you. 
You realise your mug is empty, another drink that is supposed to keep you going has gone to waste in your system. You can’t be bothered but you know that you’ve wasted time not studying when you’re supposed to. So, you get up from your seat, walk into the kitchen and do the same routine that you’ve done the past few weeks when you’re cramming for finals. Either make your coffee, or tea or grab an energy drink. The caffeine from the coffee is too much for you to handle at the moment and tea isn’t strong enough for you. So you settle for an energy drink where it’s in between enough caffeine to maybe help you go through for another three hours for now. 
“Are you thinking of studying again?” Miguel sounds a bit disbelieving, but not surprised. He’s now in the kitchen with you as you take your energy drink of choice for the night—or early morning. You don’t want to look at the time “There’s no point. You’re not going to remember anything at this rate.”
“Can we just… not do this?” You warn, holding your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking. Stop creating conversations that would lead to an argument because you know it would happen. Especially with your emotions all over the place.  
Miguel stares at you, his eyes roaming up and down. Not long after, his lips curl into a smirk. Leaning his side against the frame of the long, rectangular entrance arch. “You’re stressed out. Miss Perfect finally breaks down for finals.”  
A tired sigh escapes out of your mouth. You focus to proceed on opening up the can, hearing its fizziness before pouring it into your mug. “You could say that.” 
The kitchen falls into silence. What he says is certainly true and you feel that you brought this on yourself. You were off-tracked with your assignments and didn’t check the right exam dates. It’s an error on your part but you are trying to do your best to make it through another year of college without failing. At this point, you’re willing to accept a passing grade just to make it to another year.  
“I’ll study and keep you company,” Miguel declares. “Only to make sure you stay focused and get on track. No more messing around. Got that?” 
You blink, unprepared for his words. You’re not sure why he’s doing this to you but what he said made a rush of warmth fill your chest. Despite his words, you guess that he thinks it’s better to have someone to study with rather than doing it alone. But you don’t ask Miguel if that’s his intention, in case he decides to rethink his offer.
“Thank you.” 
Miguel unfolds his arms and lets it drop to his sides. His hands are in his pockets as he’s about to leave, but then he looks over his shoulder to you. “And also; nadie bebe su bebida energética de una taza.” He says before disappearing elsewhere. 
You blink and look down at the mug in your hand, guessing that Miguel is talking about how energy drinks are meant to drink from their can, and not from a mug. 
* * * * * 
You did manage to push yourself for another two hours before you came crashing again. 
“I can’t focus on anything else right now. My mind has gone blank.” You sigh, slumping on your seat. That’s another study session that failed.
“Hm,” Miguel responds. Focusing on his study materials. “I think you’ve studied too much. That’s why you’re burned out.” 
There is some truth to his words. You have been pushing yourself to the bone for this exam and now your mind is haywired. Everything feels numbing in your head. The feelings of exhaustion, guilt and unbotheredness are jumbled in you. 
“I’m just really stressed out. I want to do well on this exam but my brain just… can’t grasp anything that I’ve studied.” You say, sounding a little disheartened. “I can’t focus, I can’t concentrate.” 
Miguel couldn’t help but glance at you. Taking in the way you’re slumped in your seat and how hollow your eyes are, filled with fatigue and emptiness. You look stressed out. He wonders when was the last time you had rest – a proper break. Not the stupid Pomodoro breaks where you take five to ten minutes of break time before getting back to studying. 
He wonders when was the last time you had taken care of yourself? 
Miguel turns his attention to you when he hears you close one of your heavy books. You let out a sigh, “I can’t even relax without being so much on edge. Fuck.” 
He thinks you’re right as he sees the way your body tenses in stress and anxiety. Miguel’s expression stays unfazed though he does feel sympathy seeing you in such a state. “Hey, you should get some rest. Go to bed early or something.” 
“I will after I attempt to get this lesson done. Then, I’ll go to bed.” 
Miguel gives you a solemn look. Your determination is one of the things he admires about you. Your willingness to do whatever it takes to get your points across. It made you endearing in his eyes. But at the moment, it’s making you look stubborn and somewhat prideful. The last thing you need is a bad experience of burnout before your exam, and he knows that you know this as well deep down.
“Let me help you to relax,” 
“Huh?” You shoot him a confused look. As if he’s said something unusual to you. “Help me… relax? How do you plan on doing that?” 
Miguel nods, “You are tensed up and you’re not getting anything remembered in your head. Your mind can’t focus.”  
You raise a brow at him, unsure where your roommate is coming from. Miguel is right, you do need to take a proper break since your productivity is rather counterproductive. But his words still puzzle you about how he can help you relax. “And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?” You ask curiously. “What do you do to relax when you’re stressed out?” 
“You know, go to the gym. Take a walk, drive around.” Miguel says it casually. “Sometimes masturbating helps to wire your brain to relax.”
You stare at your roommate before burying your face in your hands with a groan. Not only is the suggestion embarrassing but you have to imagine Miguel playing with himself. How his hands would stroke his cock, hot and pulsing in the palm of his hands. Envisioning the grunted breaths and deep groans he makes. It isn’t as if you haven’t done that to yourself either, pleasuring yourself. You’ve done that on the nights where you could hear the headboard of his bed from his room moving as the girl Miguel brought for the night kept moaning. 
You shake your head, dismissing the thoughts immediately. Or try to. “I’m not in the right mindset to do that.” 
Miguel raises an eyebrow. “I’m not saying you should do it. I’m offering to do it. It’s on the table for you.” 
“What?” You stare at him in shock and confusion. You think you heard him wrong but from the unfazed look on his face, you know that he is serious about this. Serious about giving you an orgasm, or maybe multiple orgasms. Because you know from the women and girls he brings over to fuck, Miguel has them moaning more than three times. 
When you open up your mouth, you can hear yourself stammering your words. The thought of it is disgusting but at the same time, arouses you. “Miguel, I–” 
“Do you trust me?” He asks, his red eyes piercing into yours. Captivating you to stop talking. To stop denying the offer of pleasure. You give Miguel a look of uncertainty, unsure how to respond to his offer.
“What’s it gonna be?” Miguel asks. The corner of his mouth curves up to a tiny smirk. “No pressure, chica. I want you to think about it and let me know if you’re up for it or not.” 
Miguel goes back to reading his study notes with a neutral expression as if the conversation didn’t happen. He doesn’t look at you and the silence in the room speaks volumes. Leaving you to think about the offer. You’re not sure why he is even offering himself to give you pleasure. Miguel is your friend, for goodness sake. The guy is out of your league and he has been with other people, you know this. Is he doing this out of pity or could there be more to it? 
The two of you have lived together for three years of schooling, and have known each other for that long. He doesn’t give you attention in a lustful way or lustful like he does with other girls; the kind of interest in starting a sexual relationship with you. It’s a blessing in disguise yet at the same time, you want a connection more than just being his friend. 
You have a crush on Miguel but he doesn’t seem the type of guy who isn’t ready to commit to one person just yet. Especially when you’re both still young and exploring life ahead.  
“Okay,” you closed your book with a thud. You catch his eyes when you fully turn to talk to him. This idea is already as insane as it is, but you’re desperate to stop feeling like a lost cause about your exam. You just want to forget about your test for a few minutes. Maybe a couple of hours at most. “I’ll take up on your offer. What I’ve been doing is not working, and I need some sort of break before I go insane.” 
Miguel grins and then puts his reading materials away. You always think that he looks so handsome when he smiles. “Well then. Move your books and laptop aside and sit on the table for me.” Miguel looks at you when you stare at him. “It will be a lot nicer like that, trust me.” He adds. 
“Okay, I’ll get my stuff out of the way.” You say and begin picking up your books and laptop. Miguel does the same, putting his things away, then turns his attention to look at you. 
You’re sitting on the edge of the table, waiting for his next words. The beating of your heart thumping is the only thing you can hear as you watch Miguel. He stands in front of you in between your thighs. Tall, built and handsome. His red eyes look down on you as they shine under the lights in the dining area. 
You feel his hands on the sides of your waistband shorts, his fingers brushing against your clothed skin and hips. “May I?” Miguel asks as he looks at you. 
“Sure,” you say. You’re not one to be nervous around easily but your roommate seems to have that effect on you. When you lift your hips slightly, Miguel curls his fingers on the waistband and pulls down your shorts. Discarding your clothed item you notice that he’s taken off your panties too. “Miguel–” 
His stare made you pause, his red piercing eyes keep you quiet. You’ve always known what Miguel’s eyes are like but in this moment of what you’re letting him do to you, it stirs feelings in you. The gaze in his eyes is fiery in desire; so focused and enraptured. He looks at you in silence – keeping his eyes on you – as he slowly pulls down everything and discards it somewhere in the room. 
“Open your legs a little for me, pretty,” Miguel tells you. “Yes, that’s it.” 
The heat on your cheeks burns you as your heart thumps in your chest at how intimate and vulnerable the situation looks. Never in your dreams you would be in this situation, much less doing it with Miguel O’Hara.
 “It’s not too late to change your mind and tell me no.” He says. Standing between your legs, his calloused fingers on your inner right thigh. “I won’t hate you for it.” 
Your breathing is soft and steady. “Shouldn’t you have asked me that before you took my panties off?” You chuckled with a small smile. You feel a little more relaxed about what you and he are starting. 
Miguel grins, “I probably should have.” His expression becomes serious. “I’ll start slow.” 
You watch as he puts two fingers in his mouth with a gentle suck. When he pulls them out, his digits are glistened wet under the lights. Lubricated and wet against his tan skin. Miguel catches you dazing at him, his intense expression stays on you, as he brings his fingers between your thighs. They find themselves between your flaps, tracing your inner folds with his fingertips. 
“You’re already wet before I touch you.” Miguel hums in approval. “That’s good.” 
His fingers move slowly like he promised. You feel him gather your sleek arousal with a gentle swipe of his thumb and move up to the hood of your cunt. You moan softly when you feel Miguel play with your clit, circling and putting just the right pressure that has you tingling in sensation. Your hands grip on the edge of the table as you brace yourself. 
“Gosh, that feels nice.” You sigh. Your eyes are closed, indulging in the pleasure, finding your body relaxed and mind in tranquillity. Focusing on feeling his fingers touch and tease your folds and clit. Maybe this is what you truly need for a break from intense studying. 
“I like the look on your face,” Miguel tells you. You can picture the smirk from the tone of his voice. “This is just the beginning of your stress relief.” 
You didn’t get to open your eyes and ask him what he meant when you felt something push inside your cunt. Your walls are wet and warm, feeling one of Miguel’s digits sliding into your pussy with ease. It has you gasping and moaning softly, your back arches and hands gripping tightly onto the table edge. Miguel has his index finger in you and he slips in his middle finger, stretching your pussy open. His thumb is still circling your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of you. 
“Stay still, bonita.” His voice deeps, almost growling. “And don’t think. Just focus on the feeling of my fingers. Relax for me.” 
You can’t help but tighten around his fingers from the command. Hoping that he didn’t feel the way your clit throbs from his command. You never heard him speak like that before – maybe not to you – but it sounds hot. All you could focus on is the way his fingers rub and massage your pussy. 
You can tell that Miguel is certainly experienced with the way he can tease your vulva and play with your clit, letting your breathless sighs and moans guide him. It’s completely easy to forget about anything else but being finger fuck by the guy you liked. 
“Oh, oh.” You softly moan, putting the heels of your feet on the edge of the table. Your hands clutch onto his forearms as Miguel fingers you. It has your head spinning with the way he alternates between fingering and rubbing your slick folds. The pace is not fast or slow-- just perfect, as it eases you off and you forget about what you're stressed about in the first place. 
And when he pushes his fingers into your pussy, it has you tilting your head back in ecstasy, moaning his name, as you feel him going deeper.
"So tight around my fingers. You definitely need this." Miguel smirks, his breath warms your neck. “Need a good stretch, don’t you, bonita?” 
You groan as you feel him continuously plunge his digits in and out of you. Miguel doesn’t stick to one way to pleasure you; he would rub your wet folds, flicker your clit up and down and sideways with his thumb, and circle your little pearl. At the corner of your eye, you see the corner of his mouth curve up in a smirk when clutching onto his forearms for dear life. 
“Miguel,” you mewl. The knot in your lower belly tightens when he plunges his whole fingers into your slick pussy, thrusting them in and out. Your body moves in a sudden, forward thrust when Miguel continues to come hither inside your pussy, having his fingers rubbing your G-spot. He doesn’t stop to flicker and circle your throbbing clit and a sultry gasp catches in your throat as your thighs begin to quiver. “Oh, fuck!” 
“That’s it, beautiful. Oh, you really do need this, don’t you?” Miguel asks almost mockingly. You arch your back in his embrace and let out another moan, feeling his two fingers flicking inside your pussy walls. He knows exactly what he’s doing, drawing out more noises from you as your lower body still trembles, and your cum spilling out of your folds and onto his fingers. 
It feels as if Miguel is toying with you and pussy for a long time, even after being overstimulated and sensitive. He slows down his ministrant but still has his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit and wet folds. You relax in his arm, head on his shoulder as you regain your senses from orgasm. All thoughts cleared up in your head and you couldn’t even remember what you were thinking or doing earlier before being finger-fucked. 
Miguel’s voice sounds a little raspy and distinct, still toying with your cunt, as he whispers:  “Wanna continue this elsewhere?” 
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922 notes · View notes
lambertdiary · 7 months
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NSFW!! if i can make my request could you write somthing about mike and reader being in a relationship and she takes care of abby when he's working and one day he comes back sad and upset cuz he's been fired and she comforts him?? and yk i feel like he might be a little sub when it comes to doing it
A/N: Hey!! This is my first time writing for this lovely character, so please let me know what you think of this! Also thank you so much for your request, please keep them coming
Word Count: 2.5k+
Warnings: NSFW, smut, brief hand job, blowjob, sub!mike x dom!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, FNAF movie spoilers
MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST
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After A Bad Day
Mike was driving back home from the mall, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. He had just been fired from his job, again. He needed that job if he wanted to keep custody of his sister, he needed to look good on paper since he didn’t think a judge would want Abby to live with his unemployed brother. 
The incident that caused him his job was something he wasn’t proud of, but if he was being completely honest it wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right, but his boss did not like that explanation.
He got out of the car as he held his belongings, taking a deep breath as he opened the front door. There was only one thing worse than getting fired, and that was having to tell his girlfriend about it.
“Hey” She greeted him as soon as he walked through the door.
“Hi” He greeted her back, but walked straight to the kitchen counter to drop off the stuff he was holding. It had been a long day and he didn’t wanna have to face her after losing his job, not yet.
“How was your day?” “It was good” He simply said, his short response giving her a heads up that something was off “Yours?”
“Really good actually, I managed to bond with Abby a little better during dinner. I think I’m in one of her drawings but she won’t tell me”
“I can imagine”
She left the couch and tried to approach him without coming off too strong, if something was off then she didn’t want to overwhelm him, so she stopped when she was close enough “I made spaghetti if you’re hungry”
“Thanks. Where’s Abby?”
“She went to her room a while ago, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping now”
“Did she eat her dinner?”
“I tried my best but you know her”
“Yeah” He turned around to face her, revealing his injured fists.
“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Y/N approached him completely, her hands going straight to his.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take a shower” He freed himself from her grip as he started to make his way to his bathroom.
“Mike…” She stopped him, her glance asking for an explanation when he turned to meet her gaze.
“It was stupid, don’t worry about it”
“What happened?”
Mike stayed silent for a moment, struggling to spit the words out “I uh- I got fired”
“Oh my god Mike, I’m sorry” She could see the disappointment in his face. She knew it was hard for him and she wanted to help, but sometimes he would lock himself up and not let her in “What happened?”
“It was a misunderstanding”
“How?” He simply shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground “What did you do?”
“It doesn’t matter… Look, we can talk about it later, okay? I just need to get my mind off things and take a shower”
She nodded and slowly closed the distance between their bodies, her arms going around his neck “Why don’t you get the shower started while I check on Abby? And I can join you if you want” Her words lingered in the air for a moment as Mike gathered his thoughts. There was a lot going on in his mind. Getting fired, having to look for a new job, the possibility of losing custody of his sister, but it all faded slowly when he was with her “Still there?” She asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“So you’re not mad at me? You wanna join me in the shower?” 
“Of course I’m not mad at you, and I think that you need to relax. You’re right, get your mind off things and we can talk about it later” She guided him to the couch, sitting next to him as one of her hands fell on his knee, tracing small circles on it “Does that sound good?”
“Y- yeah”
“Are you having a stressful day, baby?” He nodded softly, his tongue wetting his lips quickly “You know, I can help with that” Her hand started to rise up his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch area.
He swallowed hard as he watched her hand, his trousers getting tighter by the second. She was taking her sweet time, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as her amusement grew watching him get desperate for contact.
She fell to her knees in front of him, her hands spreading his legs to make enough space for her between them “Wanna get rid of these?” She asked, tugging at his bottoms and he just nodded.
He watched and he patiently waited. She imagined him enjoying the tension of anticipation as she hooked her fingers around the sides of his trousers and slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly worked them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. She decided to tease him a bit longer, so she admired his cock covered only by the thick black cotton of his boxers that was just a few centimetres away from her face. She dragged her palm over the lump and watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. She didn’t break eye contact once, she loved to see the effect she had on him.
After just a moment, her hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, her cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as she curled her fingers around his thickness. She laid her cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of her own hand over his cock.
“Do you want me to take you?” She asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but she repeated her question when she didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth “Mhm, do you?”
“Yes, please” He replied in a desperate tone.
A smile appeared on her face. She sat up straight and positioned herself better between his legs, her mouth slowly approaching his cock as he completely got rid of his pants and boxers. She took the base and her fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on his own.
He was looking down at her with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit she had collected in her mouth go down his cock. She pressed her soft lips against his head, opening her mouth a little wider when she started to slide down his prick. 
A choked moan left his throat at the feeling. She stopped immediately and looked up at him “You have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake Abby up, do we?” He shook his head, his mouth slightly open “Good boy”
She went back and took him again, hollowing her cheeks around him and her head bobbing painfully slowly. She repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel her warm tongue at different spots and his cum glossing over her lips.
The entire time he was trying his best to stay quiet, he knew he had to, but he couldn’t help himself with how good she was making him feel. He let out a soft moan as her head continued to pump his base to meet with her lips, and as her pace began to quicken the more desperate he was getting for a release. 
It was taking everything in him to keep it together right now, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. He let out a long breath, he needed more but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as her hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.
“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry”
She continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips and her spit coating in his cock.
He was thankful when she started to go faster and deeper, she was sucking and licking repeatedly, her tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in her mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass of her mouth, letting both of them know he was close. He almost begged her to keep going, but the words ‘Don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat and a soft whimper replaced them. She had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but she wasn’t planning on doing that today, not when he was already having a hard day.
One of fists was taking a handful of the couch and the other was placed over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of her throat. The feeling of her spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.
“Oh fuck, I’m cumming” He moaned as quiet as he could. 
Her thumb circling his hand gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of her soft lips before he was shooting his release down her throat, his eyes screwing shut as he tried hard to keep every sound as low as possible.
She was working him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing every single drop of cum he was giving her. Once she took all of it, she pulled back, the smallest lick of her pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of release that was still there and a thin line of spit and cum was connecting his cock and her lips before breaking and falling over her chin.
Her gaze was glassy, her lips swollen and her hair a bit of a mess, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.
“Do you feel better, baby?” Her voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.
He swallowed hard before answering “Yes” 
“Good. Are you gonna join me in the shower then?”
He watched her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, his eyes following her. He wanted to get up and run to the bathroom, but he was still recovering from his orgasm.
“Mike” She whispered when she made it there, waiting for him to follow her “I’ll be waiting for you”
She entered completely and Mike heard the water running so he immediately got up, bursted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. She smiled when she saw him, the bottom part of his outfit still gone.
Y/N let her sweats fall to the floor, her top joining shortly after. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she could almost hear him willing her to turn around to let him see more than just her naked back.
He decided to get rid of the rest of his clothes when she stepped into the shower. He joined her and he secretly admired her naked body. 
She finally turned around, giving him a full view of her front, and her lips found his right away, he could taste the traces of his cum still on her lips. His hands travelled up and down her back as her hands landed on his hair. She lightly pulled his head back to give her more neck space, kissing and softly biting down his neck.
With the water muffling any sounds, he allowed himself to let out a moan slip past his lips “It’s my turn to come, yeah?” She whispered as her hand went down his body, finding his hardening cock.
He nodded frantically as his hips betrayed him again with a buck against her hand, but she let it slide this time. He rolled his head back to feel the water run down his face, taking a deep breath before grabbing her hips and lifting her up, holding her with her back against the wall. 
They started kissing again, this time more desperate for each other, but especially Y/N who had been getting uncomfortably and painfully wet between her legs the moment she went down on him. Her front was pressed against his and she could feel his hard pressing against her tummy.
“Go on baby, I want you inside me” His response was a low grunt, so he positioned himself and slid his aching cock inside her, slowly moving in and out until she asked for more. He was going deeper with each thrust, and her eyes began welling up with tears at the complete ecstasy coursing through her veins. He went even deeper, hitting her special spot just right. Her walls began to tighten around every inch of him as his brows furrowed in pleasure.
“Faster” She whimpered and he happily obliged.
He quickly picked up a faster pace, her breathing becoming stained at the motions as her nails scratched down his back.
“Play with my clit baby, I know you can handle it” Her words made him moan but he did as she said. He positioned his left arm better to be able to hold her with it alone while his right hand found her clit between their bodies, the immediate feeling of pressure making her head fuzzy.
He motioned slightly faster, this time making small circles around it. The pressure had her crumbling against him almost instantly, as soon as he felt her legs begin to shake against him he started to thrust deeper into her. 
By the way her eyes squeezed shut he knew she was close, and so was he, but he had to wait a little longer this time. Finally, that familiar feeling was coming closer and closer, the edge of her climax making her walls tighten around him and her mouth hanging open as moans of his pretty name fell repeatedly from her lips.
“You’re doing so good, baby” She breathed, the praise making him go deeper “Just a little more, I’m almost there”
Just a few seconds after that, the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter and tighter, her soft moans flowing out of her mouth even more as the pressure sent her into complete bliss. Her entire body twitched against his, her head rolled back in pleasure. 
His second orgasm followed shortly after, this time his cum staining her walls as his thrust became sloppy. He fucked himself through his overwhelming orgasm, prolonging hers.
When they were both done, he let her down gently, pinning her against the wall with one arm above her shoulder and his head pressed against the wall as he looked down at her body. 
“Good job” She whispered into his ear.
2K notes · View notes
verstappen-cult · 1 month
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hiii idk if youre doing reqs rn but how about lestappen x reader where shes unused to being taken care of, having to succumb to the fact she needs help after an injury (nothing too graphic like maybe a sprained ankle or a broken wrist) and max and charles trying their best to make her understand that they *want* to help and that she has to let them and her yk kinda warming up to the idea idkkk😭 feel free to ignore it i js thought it was sweet✋️😔
You turn on the kitchen lights and Charles and Max are immediately pausing the game and turning around, surprised to see you supporting all your weight in your left leg, while keeping your balance by leaning against the wall.
Max is up in a blink of an eye. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” He helps you walk to one of the stools by the kitchen counter.
“I wanted something to eat.” You say, sitting down and trying not to show how relieved you are. Your ankle is still hurting but you don’t want to worry them.
“You could’ve just told us.” Charles joins you and Max in the kitchen. “What do you want?” He asks you while walking towards the fridge.
You wince, looking down at your hands. “I can prepare something. You’re busy.”
“We were just playing FIFA.” Max leans down to leave a kiss on your cheek. “We weren’t exactly busy.”
“Still,” You argue back, this time looking at your blonde haired boyfriend. “I can do it myself.”
“You’re supposed to be resting, or you’re not gonna get better.”
Charles is right.
And just because of that you accept his offer to make something to eat.
“I’d like some pasta, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Charles frowns as he takes all the ingredientes out of the fridge. “If it’s not too much trouble? Are you hearing yourself?”
Max gives him a disapproving look when he sees you look away.
“You sit here and we’re gonna take care of it, okay?” Max smiles before helping his boyfriend to avoid any incident like it always happens when Charles cooks. Or tries to.
While they’re occupied you think that is a good idea to take a shower to feel fresh and clean before dinner.
But the second you move to get up, Charles is by your side ready to help you.
It makes you feel a lot of things, some good and bad — especially some bad ones. Because the last thing you wanted was to cause trouble and have them running behind you to help with whatever you need, forcing them to cancel events to stay at home with you. Which is exactly what happened.
“What do you want?”
You groan, “I’m gonna take a shower.”
“I’ll run a bath for you.” Charles smiles brightly, forcing you to sit back down. But you don’t let him get away, grabbing his wrist.
“I can do it,” You feel stressed and a burden, and there are tears pricking your eyes. “You don’t need to do everything for me.”
Max stops chopping the vegetables to pay attention to you. “We know that,” He says with a weird expression on his face that you don’t really want to think about right now. “we’re trying to help you. You fell down and are in a lot of pain even if you want us to believe otherwise.”
You blush because you thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding how bad you actually feel.
“When we said that we want to take care of you, it was because we mean it. Nothing is more important than you.” Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles, while you feel really small and scolded like a little kid.
“I just–,” You hide behind your hands, finally letting the tears fall freely down your face. “I don’t wanna be a burden.”
They stay silent for a few minutes. And then, you feel Max arms on your back while Charles lifts your chin up with his fingers. They look softly at you which only makes you cry harder.
“Oh, princess.” Max wipes the tears with the pad of his fingers. “We love you. Of course we want to take care of you and help with anything you need. You’re never gonna be a burden for us, okay?”
“I know you’d do the same for us.” Charles lets you rest your head against his chest as the both of them hold you in their arms. “Will you let us take care of you?”
You want to say no, but deep down you want to be taken care of. But you’re so used to doing everything by yourself, you never had someone worrying this much for you, never had someone who cared. And now you don’t have one but two people willing to drop everything just to take care of you.
You nod against Charles’ chest, tears still flowing down your face, and whisper, “Okay.” Even if you still want to fight against it and do everything by yourself.
Maybe things need to change a little.
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helen-with-an-a · 2 months
Text
I am an adult
Hi. So, this is an idea that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy it. <3
Barca Femeni x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5
TW: none
Word Count: 3.4k
Description: R is tired of being treated like a child
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Being the youngest in the club by quite some years when you first join the club is hard. You were 15 when you put pen to paper, debuting for your national team at 16. You automatically inherited about 40 big sisters at club and country, with all their wisdom, love, and overprotectiveness. It was adorable … at first. You couldn’t fault them for their heart. You knew they meant well. But you were ready to strangle them by the time you turned 18. You had been given offers from all over the world as your contract ended. It was a difficult choice to leave your team; most of them you considered family. But it wasn’t a difficult choice to sign for Barcelona.
You had hoped that as you left your home and started a new chapter in life, you could prove that you weren’t a child anymore. But it quickly became apparent that that wasn’t the case. Alexia hovered, Lucy fussed, Marta fretted, and Irene worried. You had originally moved in with Alexia, which was lovely initially. She helped you organise the parts of your life that were new to you – organising your weekly shopping list, helping manage your finances, and coordinating your schedules. But as the years went by, you think she forgot that you were no longer the barely legal adult who needed help with many things. You think they all forgot.
The first incident that made you slightly pissed off was in the changing rooms. The music was loud, and you were too busy grinding on Pina to notice the looks from Lucy and Marta. You were celebrating another spectacular win, you scoring a hat trick and Patri and Salma scoring braces. You had taken your sweaty shirt off and swung it around your head as you turned to press yourself against Bruna, all 3 of you laughing as you ran your hands down your body, shaking your hips sensually. As the song ended, you were all in fits of laughter, clutching your stomachs and breathing hard.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Ona asked, her arms wrapping around your waist as you slung an arm around her shoulders.
“Oh, shut up. You’ve seen me dance plenty of times,” You joked as you kissed her forehead.
“You’ve been out dancing?” Lucy asked. She didn’t like the sound of that. You were too young to go out.
“Yeh, we went out a few weeks ago,” Ona told her.
“Who is we?” Alexia frowned.
“Um … me, Ona, Patri, Pina, Jana, Bruna, Esmee, Aitana,” you rattled off their names, counting them on your fingers as you went. Basically, it was all the young ones who could legally drink. It had been an entertaining night. No one was telling you to calm it down. No one breathed down your neck as you chatted to random strangers. No one was hovering. It was fantastic. You had spent most of the next day with your head over the toilet and feeling very sorry for yourself. But it was worth it. You wouldn’t let them dampen your spirits over that night. Lucy was frowning hard; Alexia also gave an angry glare. “What?” You asked, confused about why you were having disapproving scowls sent your way.
“You’re too young,” Lucy said as she turned away. You huffed, muttering under your breath as you headed to the showers. You were starting to get irritated with their behaviour.
The second time they made you angry was when you stumbled home from a night-in with Pina and Patri. You had chatted away the evening over good food and wine. It was a lovely night, bringing you even closer to the pair of best friends. What you hadn’t been aware of, however, was Lucy and Alexia, and Marta, and Caro, and Paños, and Irene. They all blew up your phone, asking where you were and what you were doing. Alexia had asked Lucy to come over as she noticed you looked a little less like yourself. You were acting short with her, not really acknowledging her when she gave her (unwanted) input on what you were doing and with whom you were doing it. She had hoped that Lucy could help you navigate what was going on. As Alexia opened your bedroom door, without knocking – once again – she was met with a slightly messy but very empty room with a pile of clothes on the floor near the hamper. She must tell you that you need to do your washing.
“Lucy,” Alexia had called out in a panic. You weren’t anywhere else in the house. She didn’t know where you were. She had promised your parents all those years ago that she would look after you. “She’s gone. She’s not here. She’s missing. Should we phone the police?” She grew more and more desperate with every passing moment.
“Right. Calm down, alright? She couldn’t have gone far. She can’t drive,” she was wrong – you could drive; you even had your own car, but the older team members refused to let you go anywhere without them or let you behind the wheel if they were in the car. “Let’s check her location, yeh?” You had asked her repeatedly to delete the app from her phone. She had ignored your wishes, telling you that due to your age, someone should always know your whereabouts. “See, she’s at Patri’s. She’s fine.” The pair took calming breaths together. As the hours ticked by and it seemed like you were making no appearance any time soon, more people were called to come and wait for you. First, it was Marta and Caro and then Paños after another hour and finally Irene after another 2. It was 3 am when you stumbled into the house, slightly wine-drunk but more or less sober.
“What time do you call this?” Alexia’s voice called out from the shadows. It was angry; you didn’t need to see her face to know that her signature glare was etched on it.
“Oh, I didn’t think you’d be awake,” you commented, moving into the kitchen and flicking the lights on as you went. You jumped slightly as you were faced with four other women, all of whom were in similar states of anger and disapproval. "Jesus Christ. What did you do? Throw a party or something?”
“A search party more like. You snuck out.” Irene commented, folding her arms over her chest and giving you her best Mum look.
“Is it really sneaking out if I leave through the front door?” you countered, filling a glass with water and looking in the medicine box under the sink. “Do we have any paracetamol?” you asked absentmindedly, not quite realising just how angry the group was.
“Why do you need paracetamol, kid?” Lucy asked, knowing the answer already but not wanting the confirmation.
“Oh, I had a few drinks with Patri and Pina. Wanna have them in my room with some water for tomorrow if I need them,” you said, letting out a small ‘aha’ when you found the medicine you were looking for.
“You’ve been drinking?” Marta screeched.
“Yeh?” You drew out the word, slightly too tipsy for this conversation.
“What? That’s it, you’re grounded. For-” Alexia stormed forwards.
“You can’t ground me, Alexia,” you said incredulously, standing up and facing her. You may be younger, but you were slightly taller than her. “I’m not a child.”
“How da-” she started, raising her voice at you. You held up a hand, cutting her off. You were mightily fed up with her behaviour as of late. You clicked your teeth.
“I’m going to bed.” You sighed, pushing past the group standing in the hallway and stomping up the stairs.
“Don’t you dare slam your-” She shouted but was cut off by a harsh slam.
By the third time, you were ready to scream. Or commit murder. You weren’t too fussed – whichever got them to stop. After the night with Patri and Pina, Alexia tried to ban you from doing anything outside of training. You had raised one eyebrow at her and walked straight out the door. She was shocked, to say the least. Where was this attitude coming from? She had been nothing but nice to you, helping you out when she thought you needed it and offering advice when you looked a little stressed. She had had enough of your door slamming and locking the door. So, she did the only thing she could think of. You walked back into the house with Ona by your side, chatting away about the coffee shop you wanted to try. You could hear the faint whirring of power tools coming from upstairs. It was a known fact that Alexia hated building flat-pack furniture, so you went to investigate – beckoning for Ona to follow, thinking it would be funny to see the disaster that Alexia was making. The sight that met you had you screaming and shouting. Alexia was taking your bedroom door off its hinges.
“What the fuck?” You shouted, anger your dominant emotion.
“Language!” She said calmly as she finished with the final nail.
“Seriously, what the actual fuck, Alexia? You’re taking my door off?”
“Sí. You kept slamming it. I told you not to slam the door. And it’s not your door. It’s mine. I own the house.”
“In that case, when do you want me to move out? Can I have a few hours to pack?” She scoffed, thinking you were bluffing. You were most certainly not bluffing. You looked over to Ona, standing at the top of the stairs, slightly embarrassed at witnessing the clearly private situation.
“You are too young to move out, cariño. Once you learn to respect those who are trying to help you, I’ll put the door back on,” she said simply, pushing the door onto its side and moving past you. “Hi, Ona,” she said sweetly.
You immediately gathered up a suitcase full of clothes and forced Ona to take you to her place. Spending time in an environment where you weren’t treated as a child only grew your resentment towards others. You loved being treated as the adult that you were. You spent a few nights with Ona before moving to Patri’s and Pina’s. You had ignored all the older girls' efforts to talk to you. They still muttered and moaned about how you weren’t old enough and that they were only trying to help, to do what was best for you. Eventually, you decided you needed your own place – sleeping on couches and pull-out beds was not good for your body.
“Um, I just wanted to let you know I’m moving out. Officially.” You approached Alexia one morning in the gym. It had been about a month, and you still hadn’t returned to her house. Everyone’s anger had been building up slowly.
“No. Absolutely not.” Alexia shut you down immediately.
“Ale,” you sighed. This wasn’t Alexia’s choice. You had already found a place nearer to the training centre. It was cute with old, patterned tiled flooring and exposed brick.
“No. You're too young to live by yourself.” You sighed, not willing to argue about this again.
“Ale, I … I’ve already got a place. I’ve put a deposit down already. I am moving out,” you sheepishly. The look of horror on her face was laughable. You would have thought you said you were skinning Nala and using her fur as clothing. “Um…” She held up a hand, stopping you from speaking. You had only really told her out of courtesy. You had been back to her house several times when she wasn’t home, slowly packing your stuff. The wardrobes were basically empty already; you just had to take down the decorations. It wasn’t like you had many up anyway. You had always thought of it as you sleeping in Alexia’s spare room; it was never yours. And you didn’t want it to be. You tried to speak again, but she just waved you off, turning on her heels and walking away, shaking her head.
After you had officially moved out, training was more awkward than ever. The older players constantly switched between throwing you sympathetic glances, angry glares, and disappointed looks. You had tried not to let it bother you. It honestly didn’t … for a while. In the beginning, it was nothing you weren’t used to. And then they were muttering about you within earshot. Talking amongst themselves over how rude you had been, they had only tried to help you. You were too young, and you were being disrespectful towards them. It really began to bother you, not to the point where your training and playing were affected, but in your personal life. The team had a definite rift, and you were starting to think you were the cause of it.
It was a random Monday morning when things finally came to a head.
“Oh my god!” Bruna squealed as you lifted your top up and over your head. “What are those, Miss Y/S/N?”
“What are what?” You were very confused. Jana gasped as she also spotted something, pointing at your chest. Hickeys. A line of dark purple splotches littered your chest and stomach.
“Fuck. She said she wouldn’t leave marks.” You groaned. You had gone out on Saturday night after the match with some of the younger girls and ended up leaving with a random girl. It was fun; she had stayed the night, and you had made her a coffee the following day before going your separate ways.
“Was she a vampire, Jesus?” Ona laughed, trying to poke at one of the particularly dark ones.
“Oi,” you battered her hand away, laughing all the same. “I’ve seen the aftermaths of your nights out, young lady. You have no leg to stand on,” laughing harder at the blush blooming on her cheeks.
“What. Are. Those?” Alexia boomed, bringing silence over your little group.
“Um, hickeys?” You answered, already tired of her controlling attitude.
“And how did you get them?” She replied. You raised an eyebrow at her.
“You had sex?” Lucy chimed in, disbelieving you.
“Yeh?” Her eyes widened; you were too young to be having sex. She opened her mouth to speak again. “If you’re about to give me the sex talk, don’t bother. That ship sailed long ago.” That stunned her. You had had sex on multiple occasions? She could feel her brain melting slightly.
“When?” Caro asked quietly, unsure whether she wanted to know that particular answer.
“Before I even came to Barca. I’d just signed my first contract. It was a friend from back home, it was nice. We’re still mates, so,” you filled her and the rest of the changing room in – totally open to confessing when you lost your virginity.
“You are too young to-” Alexia started, planning on berating you for your choices.
“Oh, shut up, Alexia.” You shouted. If you thought the changing room was quiet earlier, you could hear a pin drop now. No one shouted at Alexia. Ever. There were a few supercharged seconds. You refused to break eye contact with her. “I am not. Too. Young. I am a fully grown adult. You need to start realising that.” You looked around. “You all do.” You grabbed a random t-shirt and stormed out of the room.
The room was deadly silent. No one dared speak; no one dared even move for fear of retribution. At least Caro had the decency to look a little ashamed; everyone else was fuming.
A bang on the door broke the silence. “Apresúrate,” Jonatan shouted. The younger girls quickly gathered their stuff and rushed out, keeping their heads low and eyes trailing on the ground.
“That little-” Lucy started.
“Enough.” Ingrid cut her off. Ingrid had seen the way they had been treating you. She had heard the comments about how they deemed you too young to do normal things for a young adult to do. “All of you, enough.” They had never heard Ingrid shout before – irritated, sure, pissed off, yes, angry, never. “I am sick and tired of seeing how you treat that woman. She might have joined the team when she was young. But she is now an adult. And you refuse to see her as such. No wonder she snapped.” Alexia tried to cut in. “No, Ale. I know you mean well; you all do. I don’t doubt that. But you have told her off for going out, for drinking, for having sex. These are all normal things. She is safe, and she is happy. Surely, that is all that matters? If it was me, I would have snapped long, long ago. You are lucky; all she did was shout at you.” She turned to get her things. “Don’t come outside until you’ve thought about how to make this right with her,” Ingrid commanded as she stormed off.
The group was initially angry, ranting and raging over your behaviour, then they were slightly less angry with you and more at themselves. Eventually, they were silent, reflecting on how poorly they treated you. Alexia was the guiltiest. She felt so mortified over her treatment of you. Yes, you were a child when you first joined, but now you were a young woman who wanted her own life. They didn’t know how to apologise to you. As they traipsed into training, you refused to look at them.
Over the next few days, you didn’t acknowledge their presence at all. If they approached you in the canteen, you swiftly moved away. If they tried to pair up with you at training, you ran off before they could ask. They had tried to corner you in the changing rooms, but you had slipped out the door before they could move. You couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. You had been pleading with them for months, years even, to treat you like an adult and yet, no, you were acting like a stroppy child.
It eventually became too much for the surrounding team, however, as Patri innocently shouted across the room that you would be at home tonight, alone. And Jana had openly yelled back with your full address, watching with quiet amusement as Lucy scribbled it down.
The knock on your door surprised you. It was only 7pm, not too late for anyone to come over, but no one had asked you or told you they would be making an appearance at your home. You didn’t bother looking through the little glass window as you threw open the door, about to question whoever it was. You froze when you were greeted with the sight of Alexia, Lucy, Marta, Caro and Paños. They had various looks of embarrassment on their faces, and Alexia had a big bouquet of your favourite flowers.
“What?” You asked, not really in the mood for them and any efforts they might have to persuade you to move back in with Alexia.
“Can we come in?” Paños asked. You sighed, knowing you would rather not have this conversation in front of your neighbours. Stepping aside, you eyed them carefully as they stepped into your flat.
“I like your place,” Lucy said awkwardly as you all came to rest at the kitchen table.
“Thanks.” You said bluntly, not really in the mood for this.
“Y/N,” Alexia spoke up. “I … we … I would like to apologise for, well, everything. We … I should have recognised that you are not a child. I am truly sorry.”
“Ok …” you looked between the group, all of them echoing similar sentiments.
“Ok? That’s it?” Marta was a little shocked that you were letting them off the hook so quickly.
“Do you want me to be mad at you? Cos, I’ll happily go back to ignoring you.” You answered. “All I ask is that you treat me like the adult I am. Yes, I go out. Yes, I get drunk. Yes, I have casual sex. Yes, I have one-night stands. All of these are normal adult things. The others do the same, yet you don’t jump on their backs about it. I’m just asking for you to treat me the way you treat them … like an adult.”
It was a slow process, and a few stray comments were still muttered under their breaths, but you could see they were trying. That’s all you could ask for—that they tried.
I hope you enjoyed it. I wasn't quite sure how to end it - if you couldn't tell ahahaha <3 There may be a pt2
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punkshort · 4 months
Text
somewhere to run | 6. the confession
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Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Joel finds out the truth and convinces you to press charges.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, domestic violence and SA (discussed after the fact), mental and physical abuse, detailed conversations about DV and SA (I didn't get too descriptive about the SA but I do use the R word a couple times) please let me know if I missed anything because there is a lot going on here
WC: 9K
A/N: as the title implies, we are going to get more details about what happened to reader in this one so once again, please heed the warnings and don't read if you think it will be triggering for you. I tried not to be too graphic.
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Joel could hardly sleep that night. Instead of going to the station, he headed home so he could be with Sarah. She wondered why he got home so early from his date, but he dodged the question and the two of them worked together in silence - Sarah on her homework, Joel on his incident report. When she asked him why he was working from home, he just shook his head and said something came up. She was a smart girl. She knew something was bothering him, but she didn't push it and he was grateful.
He tossed and turned all night, his mind reeling while he looked at his phone every few minutes. He checked the volume, he made sure do not disturb was off, wondering if you would reach out, but you never did. Maybe it wasn't unusual for Patrick to not come home. Or maybe you heard what happened and you were mad at Joel. That worried him the most. The fear that his actions might have destroyed what fragile relationship he had left with you ate him up as he stared blankly at his ceiling.
Morning came too quickly and too slowly all at once. He rubbed his tired eyes as he dragged himself into the bathroom. When he leaned forward to turn the water on, he was met with a sharp pain in his chest. He glanced down, rubbing the area tenderly and realized a large bruise was forming from his fight the night before. He winced when he pressed on a particularly sensitive spot and tried his best to avoid the area during his shower.
After he dropped Sarah off at school, he headed into work, his heart beginning to beat faster the closer he got to the station. He had no doubt in his mind the whole town knew what happened last night, but he was too tired and too overwhelmed to care about their curious questions and senseless gossip.
When he walked in, he breezed right past Helen's desk with a curt nod, doing his best to avoid all eye contact until he was within the safety of his office. He booted up his ancient computer and waited, his thumb rubbing mindlessly against his lower lip as he stared out his window.
He would go to the diner today. He already decided he had to see you. The radio silence was killing him and he needed to make sure you were okay. He was embarrassed about the Facebook messages, even more so that you weren't the one to read them, but Patrick was right. They were not innocent. The words held more weight than they appeared, but he had to come to terms with the fact that you were not his, and then maybe with some closure, he would be able to move on.
The morning dragged on slowly. Bobby caught him at the coffee maker, already working on his third cup, depending solely on the caffeine to help keep him going.
"Hey, boss. You look like shit, but not as bad as him," Bobby said, pouring himself more coffee and jutting his chin to the back of the building where the holding cells were located.
"Feel like shit," Joel mumbled, leaning against the counter and taking a sip from his mug.
"Think you broke his nose," Bobby added, finally looking up at him. "Called the doc but turns out he's real busy this mornin', won't be able to come by til after hours. Such a damn shame," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Joel understood what he was saying without him having to say it. The people in this town looked out for one another and didn't take kindly to a stranger hurting one of their own. They were leaving Patrick to deal with his injuries longer than necessary.
"I don't think I broke anythin', he did that all on his own chargin' into that table," Joel said, but Bobby shook his head.
"Not the way he tells it," he replied with a chuckle. "You'd think you nearly killed him, the way he's been whinin' back there."
"No doubt lookin' for a lawsuit," Joel said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Don't worry, boss. You got a bar full'a witnesses. Hank already offered to give a statement and he was probably the only sober one there."
"Yeah, good. Thanks," Joel replied, pushing off the counter to head back to his office, trying to ignore the sideways glances of the men watching him from the bullpen. He shook his mouse and grimaced when he saw an email from the mayor looking to set up a meeting with him that week to discuss the incident. He knew he did nothing wrong, but the more attention this brought him, the worse he felt. Eventually, all of that talk would make its way back to you and Sarah, the truth most likely getting distorted along the way. He made a mental note to have a talk with his daughter that night as he slowly typed out a response to the mayor.
He swore he would try to get some actual work done, but he ended up spending more time staring out the window or at his phone, watching the minutes tick by til it was lunchtime and he could see you. Maybe he could pull you aside and talk to you in private. Maybe he could fix this.
The moment the clock read a reasonable hour, he jumped up from his seat and snatched his blazer from the coat hook, rolling his shoulders as he walked and put it on, then stifling a grunt when he felt a muscle in his chest pull from the effort.
He kept his head down as he walked down the street towards the diner, only glancing up once when he passed the pizza place. Your curtains were still drawn, no lights on that he could see, no sign of life.
A few people called out to him as he passed, but all he could muster was a tight smile and quick wave, not in the mood to get wrapped up into any conversations.
When he swung the door open, his eyes immediately went to the counter, searching you out but only finding Betty. Before he had a chance to look around the dining room, he heard María greet him.
"Where the hell were you last week?"
"I was here Friday," he muttered, looking around and avoiding her eyes.
"Yeah, with Nikki. Heard some stuff about that-"
"Is she here?" Joel asked, finally dragging his gaze to meet Maria's. She frowned and shook her head.
"No, she called in sick," Maria said, watching him carefully. "Joel, what's going on with you two? People are saying stuff about you and her husband, and-"
"She's sick?" Joel repeated, panic beginning to bubble to the surface. Maria nodded and shrugged.
"Yeah, people get sick, Joel. Hey! Where are you going?"
Joel didn't reply, he just hurried out the doors, nearly knocking down a middle aged couple as they were about to walk inside. He mumbled an apology as he jogged down the street towards your place.
Something was wrong.
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Your eye cracked open when you heard the doorbell, the heavy thudding in your head making you immediately nauseous. You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut, rolling back under the covers. Maybe if you were quiet, Patrick would think you were at work and he would leave. But the bell kept ringing, the sound pinging around in your brain making the headache you already had so much worse.
When he began pounding on the door and shouting from the street, you dragged yourself out of bed and wrapped yourself in a thin robe. You knew your body couldn't take much more, but letting him in would be better than allowing him to make a scene in front of the whole town, so you forced your feet forward, still limping from the day before.
You had to pause in the doorway to catch your breath as you clutched your side, wincing in pain as you tried to gingerly walk down the steps, but you were taking too long and he just kept pounding and shouting and the all noise was making you sick.
"Stop," you called out weakly, not convinced he would even hear you, but miraculously he did because the noise finally ceased, and you sighed a small breath of relief.
Shakily, you reached out to grip the doorknob, your fingers fumbling with the locks until you finally managed to twist the brass handle, opening the door just a sliver, worried people walking by would see your face. Then, unexpectedly, you heard Joel's voice instead of Patrick's say your name softly and before you could peer around the door, you went to quickly shut it with no success. His hand gripped the door tightly, but you held firm, hiding behind the wood.
"You shouldn't be here," you told him, your voice weak and broken.
"I know you're mad at me but I gotta talk to you 'bout what happened," he said from the other side. "Please let me in."
Unbeknownst to you both, you were talking about two different things.
"If he finds you here... no, you have to leave," you said, pushing the door again, but he didn't budge.
"Patrick?" he questioned, sounding confused.
"Yes, Patrick," you rasped, getting dizzy from exerting so much energy in your weakened state. "Please just go."
"He's in jail, did - no one told you?" he asked quietly, trying to keep his voice down.
"Jail?" you repeated, and your grip on the door loosened in surprise. Joel felt it and took the opportunity to open it further. You stepped back quickly, wrapping the robe around you tighter and trying to fidget with your hair to hide the marks, but you knew it was pointless the moment you saw his face after closing the door behind him.
"What the fuck?" he whispered, his jaw dropping as his eyes slowly raked over your face, neck and arms. Your lip was swollen and cut, the scab breaking open and beginning to weep the more you spoke. Your cheekbone had a light purple bruise blooming under your skin, as did your jaw. There was a small gash near your hairline and what looked like scratch marks down your neck, leading past your collar bone and below your robe. When you shakily brought your hands up to cover your face in shame, he saw the dark bruises on your wrists.
"Oh my god," he whispered, unable to bring his voice any louder. When he reached out, you flinched away and he felt like he had been stabbed in the chest.
"You should go," you said quietly, your eyes pinned to the ground.
"I can't," he said in utter disbelief. "I can't... why didn't you call me?"
You looked like you were about to reply but decided against it and instead still kept your gaze averted.
"C'mon, lemme take you upstairs and get a look at you," he said, reaching out again, but you stumbled backwards, nearly falling onto the steps.
"Please don't touch me," you told him, holding up a hand, and he nodded.
"Okay, I won't touch you," he said, trying to remain calm while his heart was breaking. "Let's just go upstairs, alright?"
Reluctantly, you agreed and slowly ascended the steps, Joel following dutifully behind. He ushered you over to the couch, making sure you were seated before he went to your bathroom, rummaging around in your medicine cabinet while you sat there, your face buried in your palms and trying not to cry.
He came back into the living room, trying not to make you feel worse by hiding his reaction, but it was hard. He swallowed and dropped his eyes to the assortment of first aid items in his hands.
"Did you take anything for the pain?" he asked, his voice thick, his throat tight.
"Not today, no," you admitted softly. He nodded and shook out two white pills from a bottle and handed them to you before getting you some water. While safely in the kitchen where you couldn't see him, he let out a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm himself down. How could this happen? How didn't he see it? He should have checked on you earlier. He never should have fucking let you leave with Patrick yesterday. Guilt racked his brain as he exhaled slowly and went back to you in the living room.
"Here," he said, handing you the bottle of water. You took it and popped the pills in your mouth, wincing as you swallowed them down.
He sat down on the couch next to you but was sure to give you your space as he picked up the antiseptic and some gauze.
"Will you let me?" he asked, holding up the items in his hand. You paused and looked at them, then him. His eyes were wide and soft and shiny with unshed tears. Slowly, you nodded and watched as he twisted off the cap and put some of the antiseptic on the gauze, first pressing it gently against the gash on your forehead, then making a fresh one for your lip.
At first, he dabbed at the cut gently, ghosting over your skin as if he were afraid. But then he brought his other hand up to caress your chin, his fingers feather-like and so careful that it made your eyes flutter shut, his touch unlike anything you were used to. When you finally opened your eyes again, his hands were gone and he was staring at you, the look in his eyes morphing from sadness to one you were much more familiar with.
"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him," he said menacingly, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Don't," you said, shaking your head, but his eyes darkened and his jaw was set.
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? I could've done somethin'. I could've-"
"What? What could you have done, Joel? I've heard it all before," you told him, your lip trembling. "I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. And it never works. Nothing ever changes and it just gets worse."
Joel shook his head, still not understanding.
"I'm a cop, I coulda protected you. There's laws in place for this kinda thing."
"I've gone to the cops, Joel! More than once! And they all told me the same shit!" you exclaimed, getting worked up now. "Then I go home, and magically my statement goes missing, or my medical exam report, and I'm in worse shape than before because guess what? It makes him really fucking mad when his buddies on the force find out what he does to his wife at home."
Joel's lips parted as he watched your chest heave for breath, the energy quickly draining from your frail body.
"I... I'm so sorry," was all he could say. He couldn't blame you for not trusting anyone, especially him, now that he finally knew the truth. Everything was starting to make sense. His guilt was pulling him down and he felt like he was drowning in it. So many things he should have done. Should have seen. He should have helped you but instead he trotted Nikki in front of you to make you feel even worse.
"I can really help you, though. I ain't like that," he said, scooting a little closer to you.
"I've heard that before, too," you said sadly, dropping your gaze to the ground. "There's no getting out of this. I thought by running I could try to start over, but it's clear now he will never let me go." You closed your eyes as two tears fell down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily, hating yourself for being so weak all the time.
Joel felt his chest squeeze, his heart breaking as he watched you fall apart. He needed to do something. He couldn't let you down. You needed to get out of this, or else it could cost you your life.
"Look at me," he said, waiting until your tears slowed and you forced your eyes open. "I promise I'll help you. I fuckin' promise you, alright? You ain't in Pennsylvania, I ain't his buddy, and I will do whatever I gotta do to keep you safe."
You searched his face, eyes all wide and your heart sliced open, lying on the table between you. You've been let down so many times, it was so hard to tell when anyone was being truthful anymore, but you couldn't deny what you felt for him. And what he felt for you. You knew something was there, something real and honest and pure. He wouldn't have any reason to lie to you at this point, so after a moment, you nodded.
"Okay," you whispered, and you could see the relief flood his face.
He sat back on the couch and rubbed his chin in thought, staring at the TV screen across from him that wasn't even on while the gears in his tired head worked overtime.
"Alright," he finally said, slapping his knees and standing up from the couch. "First things first: you gotta get to a doctor."
You immediately recoiled and shook your head.
"Absolutely not."
"I'm sorry, but you have to. I gotta..." he trailed off and chewed the inside of his cheek before pushing onward. "I gotta have a doctor take pictures."
Your face instantly crumpled and you buried your face in your hands once again.
"I'm sorry," he whispered for what felt like the hundredth time, getting down on one knee to be eye level with you. "But in order for this to work, they gotta record evidence, okay?"
"Joel, I can't," you whimpered, your face still covered, but he nodded and caressed the side of your head with his palm.
"Yes, you can. I'll be right there, okay? Unless you don't want me there, but I'll go with you if you want. Or I'll wait outside the door. Whatever you need, I'll do it. I'm gonna get you outta this."
You sniffled and finally dropped your hands to your lap, your gaze finding his.
"This is the last time, I promise you," he said, staring deep into your eyes. "I'll never let him near you again."
You thought his words over for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence, looking at the other. One trying to earn trust, the other trying to give it. Finally, you closed your eyes and nodded, giving your consent for what was to come.
"Okay," Joel said softly, dropping his hand from your face and standing up to pull out his phone.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm lookin' up the number of a doctor I trust. She's a woman, too. She's real nice and sensitive. I've used her for a couple cases in the past," he said, finding the number and dialing it, bringing the phone up to his ear. Cases. You couldn't help but feel like just another victim the way he said it, even though he didn't mean it that way. You listened as he spoke to her over the phone in a hushed tone, not giving too much of your information away but insisting it was an urgent matter. When he hung up, he turned to you with a weak smile.
"She can see you this afternoon."
"Oh," you said, glancing down at your appearance. You weren't expecting to leave the house that day and you weren't sure what to do.
"It's okay," he said, sitting down next to you again and resting his hand on your knee. "I'll take you through the backdoor of her office, no one'll see you. She'll be fast."
You nodded and looked up at him.
"Maybe I should shower," you said. He paused and shifted his gaze away.
"You, uh," he cleared his throat and rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers. He knew this would come up, one way or another. "I don't mean to get into too much detail, but if he..." Joel trailed off, finding it difficult to finish his sentence. "If he did more than hit you, you shouldn't shower," he finally choked out, unable to look you in the eye.
You froze, finally understanding what he meant. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall, his neck tensing, his nostrils flaring, as he waited for your response.
"I won't shower, then," you finally said, your voice strained.
His eyes slid shut and he dropped his chin to his chest. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to steady his breathing.
"I'll just go change," you mumbled, standing up while he nodded, still trying to breathe.
He did his best to collect himself while you were out of the room, but he could feel himself spiraling. What was he doing when it happened? Was he watching a movie with Sarah? Was he eating dinner? Was he getting ready for his fucking date with Nikki?
He could feel the tears welling up but he quickly wiped them away. You needed him to be strong. You needed someone to help you, to take care of you. He couldn't afford to be weak right now. He would let himself feel it later, when he was all alone at home and Sarah was asleep. When nobody needed him and he could just let the guilt and shame and sorrow wash over him.
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"Jesus, Joel," Carol muttered as she left the exam room. Joel jumped up from his seat, anxiously waiting for it to be over. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to wipe the sweat away. She sighed and looked up at him, taking off her glasses.
"So?"
"So?" she repeated, shaking her head. "So, I have your evidence."
Joel nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"She's been through a lot," Carol said softly, walking him down to her office for privacy. She closed the door but he didn't sit down.
"She's gonna be lookin' for me," he explained, jutting his thumb over his shoulder.
"I'll be quick," she said, sitting down at her desk with a sigh. "There was significant scarring and healed bones, detailing years of abuse, and definitely evidence of some most recently."
"Yeah, I imagine anyone can see that by just lookin' at her face," he replied, but she shook her head.
"I didn't mean her face."
Joel felt his breath get caught in his throat.
"Right," he finally said, his voice cracking.
"She said her husband is a cop?" Carol asked, flipping open a yellow file on her desk. Joel nodded.
"Got him in lockup right now for swingin' on me at Hank's," he explained.
Carol's eyes glanced up at his and she quirked an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I heard something about that," she said, lacing her fingers together and looking at him closely. "Can I give you some advice, Joel?"
He shifted his weight, not sure where she was going with it, but nodded anyway.
"Don't take her statement yourself. Have someone else do it, alright?"
"Why?" he asked quickly, and she gave him a knowing look.
"Because it'll be gruesome, and you're too involved."
Joel frowned.
"Too-"
"Don't care what you've got going on with her, I'm just giving you some friendly advice. Let someone else do it," she said, her eyes softening. "Besides, you got into it with her husband last night. You don't want some hot shot lawyer tossing out her testimony in court because he can link together some personal relationship between you two."
Joel considered her words for a moment and reluctantly nodded. She was right. He was having a hard time keeping things separate, and he appreciated the clarity. He couldn't fuck this up for you. Not now.
"Anythin' else?"
She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.
"You'll have my report in the morning," she said. He nodded, thanking her again for seeing you on such short notice before exiting the room. He turned the corner just as you were opening the exam room door clutching a worn hoodie around yourself and looking around frantically before your eyes fell on him and you visibly relaxed.
"Hey, sorry. You alright?" he asked, his hands gently coming up to your shoulders to guide you towards the back exit. You gulped and nodded.
"Wasn't so bad," you said.
"Good. You did the right thing," he said as he held open the door for you and led you back to his truck.
Once you were comfortably seated and Joel merged back into traffic, you shot him a sideways glance and asked him the question that had been weighing on your mind since he came over that morning.
"Joel?"
"Hm?" he said, twisting his head to the side to change lanes.
"Why is Patrick in jail?"
Joel's grip on the steering wheel tightened and there was an uncomfortable pause before he sighed.
"He came at me last night. We happened to both be at a bar at the same time, he was drunk and swung on me."
"What?!" you exclaimed, twisting around in your seat to look at him.
"I thought you knew since he didn't come home last night. Thought you were avoidin' me by callin' off work," he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.
"No, I had no idea. He hasn't been staying at my apartment, he has a motel room somewhere," you said, peering at his face, then dropping your gaze to his hands where you could see now his knuckles were a little red.
"Are you okay?" you asked after a beat, and he scoffed.
"Am I okay?" he repeated with a shake of his head. He looked at you in shock, the corner of his mouth turning up into a half smirk. "I'm fine. Can't believe you'd be worried 'bout me after what you went through."
"Of course I worry about you," you said softly, and he felt his heart melt. Why did you have to be so sweet? After everything you've been through, after everyone in your life has let you down, you were still so fucking sweet.
He wanted to say more. He wanted to say so much more, but he couldn't. He couldn't put that kind of stress on you. It would be selfish to tell you how much he thinks about you, how much he wished you were his, how he hasn't been able to get you out of his head since the moment he laid eyes on you. No, that would be wrong. It wasn't the right time, so he swallowed the words back from the tip of his tongue and focused on the road.
"What's next?" you asked him as he walked you up to your front door. Mercifully, the weather was threatening to downpour so the streets were quiet.
"Well, next you'll have to come down to the station and give your statement so we can formally press additional charges," he said, knowing you wouldn't want to hear it but he was surprised when you simply nodded your head.
"Okay. When?"
"Tomorrow?" he offered, and you nodded again as you unlocked your door.
"I'll have to call off work or come by after," you told him, stepping inside and turning to look at him.
"Listen, 'bout that," Joel began, and you frowned. "I gotta tell Tommy."
"No!" you cried, your eyes going wide with worry, but he shushed you and shook his head.
"I gotta tell him so he can keep an eye on things, alright? I won't be able to keep him in lockup for much longer and I can't be with you all the time to protect you, d'you understand?"
"Joel..." you whimpered, burying your face in your hands. He had to physically restrain himself from pulling you into his arms. He fucking hated seeing you like this.
"We can file a restraining order tomorrow but a piece of paper won't necessarily keep him away, and I can't risk it," Joel explained, his heart breaking for you.
"Okay," you sniffled, finally coming to terms with it. If you were going to do this, you had to trust him.
"Okay," Joel repeated. "Tommy served in the Army, he knows what he's doin', I promise. I'll tell him to keep it quiet, alright?"
"Yeah," you whispered, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.
"And no more walkin' back from work in the dark. Take your car or get a ride. If I can, I'll drive you - " Joel pulled out his phone to look at his calendar, but you stopped him.
"I can manage, but thank you."
You looked at one another for a moment, both of you unsure what else to say. You were thankful for what he was doing but you weren't sure you had the words to properly express your gratitude. Everything you wanted to say felt so small, so insignificant. So instead of attempting to cobble together some sentence that wouldn't do your feelings justice, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face against his warm chest. He quickly brought his arms up around you in return, gently placing his hands on your head and back as he held you carefully against him, as if he was worried you would break. He was absolutely certain you could feel how hard his heart was thumping in his chest, but he didn't care. He just wanted to feel you, to hold you, to keep you safe.
"It's gonna be okay," he told you, his voice heavy, and he felt you nod against him before pulling back, his chest suddenly feeling so empty.
"Thank you," you whispered, then spared him one more glance before heading inside, the door clicking shut softly behind you.
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Later that evening, after you had forced yourself to eat some soup and drink some water, you were settling in on your couch when you heard a soft knock at your door. You muted your TV and strained your ears to listen. It didn't sound like a familiar knock, not one filled with anger or urgency. You glanced down at your phone, wondering if Joel had sent you a text that you missed, but nothing was there.
Hesitantly, you made your way down the steps. Your fingers brushed the doorknob, but before you opened it, you spoke through the door.
"Who's there?"
"It's me," Maria's voice drifted through the wood, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You unlocked the door and met her eyes. She tried to hold back the wince upon seeing your face, but you still caught it.
"Heard you might need some help," she said, holding up a small plastic bag. You frowned, confused, until she tilted it open for you to look inside. There, you found a variety of makeup bottles and powders in shades that looked pretty close to your skin tone.
You opened the door and let her in. You could tell you were able to take the stairs a little quicker than the morning, and you hoped that meant you were healing because you really couldn't afford to miss more time at work.
"Cute place," she said, glancing around before following you into your living room.
"Thanks," you murmured, turning the volume back on the TV as she settled into the couch next to you.
"I hope you don't mind," she said, motioning towards the bag. "Joel called and told Tommy what happened... I'm so sorry, I wish you would've called us, we could've helped you."
"Thanks," you said with a shrug. "I guess I'm just used to dealing with it on my own."
"Well if you're ever scared of staying alone, we have a spare bedroom, so please don't hesitate to ask."
You gave her a small smile, hoping she could tell how grateful you were. With the exception of one cousin back home, nobody had tried to stand up for you before. Not even your own parents. The whole concept was so foreign to you, you weren't sure how to respond.
Maria seemed to sense this and she changed the subject, leaning forward to sift through the contents of the drugstore bag, pulling out item after item and holding it up against your arm to decide which shade would work best. She spent the next hour helping you cover your cuts and bruises, and by the time you were done, you didn't look half bad.
"How are you feeling?" she asked as she packed up her things and shoved her sneakers back on.
"A little less sore," you admitted. "I should be able to work tomorrow."
"Why don't you take one more day? Joel said you're going down to the station tomorrow, it might take more out of you than you expect."
You thought it over for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. Money was a concern, but you could wait one more day, and maybe you could pick up an extra shift over the weekend.
You thanked her as she headed down the steps and she reminded you again to call her and Tommy if you ever needed anything, and you promised you would.
When you were finally on your own again, you sat in silence, thinking about these people who barely knew you, who you essentially lied to, banding together to help you out. It was unlike anything you were used to, and you were beginning to think you may have finally found your home.
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The next morning, you paced around your living room, anxiously nibbling at your nails as you waited for Joel to ring the bell. He had insisted on picking you up. He said he could swing by after he dropped Sarah off at school, that it wouldn't be a problem and he passed by your apartment anyway. You didn't understand why he was so insistent: the walk was less than ten minutes, but you didn't feel like arguing.
You were checking your makeup job in the mirror for the fifth time when the bell rang. With a deep sigh, you pulled on your sneakers, slung your purse over your shoulder and headed down the steps. When you opened the door, he was standing with his back to you under a brown blazer and his arms crossed, trying to appear casual for anybody who might be walking by, but when he heard you step through the door he swiveled around quickly.
"Good morning," you said to him with a small smile after you were sure the door was locked tight.
"Mornin'. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," you said as he led you to his truck parked a little ways down the street.
"You really didn't have to do this, you know," you said again, glancing around to see if anyone was watching.
"I know," was all he said before opening the passenger door for you and giving you a hand to step up into the cab.
The quick ride to the station was quiet, only the hum from his radio filling the air as your fingers fidgeted in your lap. When he parked the truck and you made a move to open the door, he held a hand out.
"Wait a minute, I gotta talk to you before we go in there."
You dropped your hand to your lap and looked at him expectantly.
"I can't take your statement today, I'm gonna have another officer do it," he said, his words rushed like he knew you wouldn't take the news well. And you didn't.
"What?!" you cried out softly, anxiety already creeping up and squeezing your chest.
"I'm sorry, I can't," he said, taking a deep breath and glancing out the windshield before looking back at you. "There's a conflict of interest. Patrick assaulted me, and if I go and take your statement, it won't look good to a judge."
"Oh my god," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands.
"It'll be okay. I'll be right there the whole time. Right on the other side of the glass, okay? I promise, I won't leave."
He watched you for a minute, waiting for you to say something, and when you didn't he began to question himself.
"Unless you don't want me to hear, I don't have to-"
"No, I'd prefer you be there," you said quickly.
He nodded and took a deep breath in.
"I asked a female officer to do it. Her name's Beth. She's real nice, she's dealt with... situations like this in the past."
"Okay," you said softly, reaching for the handle, but once again he stopped you.
"One more thing. I gotta cut him loose tomorrow."
You squeezed your eyes shut. You knew this would happen, but it didn't stop you from feeling the overwhelming sense of dread that crept up your spine.
"It'll be fine. I'll file the restraining order today. If he comes within fifty feet of you, he's goin' right back to jail, okay?" he said, his hand coming up to rest assuringly on your knee.
"Okay," you whispered, finally opening your eyes to look at him.
"You can do this. I know you can."
You had to hold back the tears that sprung up when his words hit your ears. Nobody has ever believed in you, listened to you, took care of you the way he did, and he hardly even knew you. People who have been in your life for years, your own family didn't encourage you the way Joel did. On one hand, it was depressing to realize it took this long for someone to give a shit, but on the other hand, you were so, so relieved someone finally did.
As Joel led you into the station, he kept his head held high, ignoring the glances shot your way and you did your best to do the same. You followed him towards the back, and you hesitated a brief moment before entering the interrogation room, pushing all the bad memories to the back of your mind and focusing on the present.
You needed to put an end to this, once and for all.
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You were doing okay. It was half an hour into giving your statement to Beth, and Joel was right. She seemed very kind and patient, and you relaxed after speaking with her for just a few minutes. Or maybe it was because you knew Joel was just a few feet away, watching from the other side of the glass, just like he promised. Whatever it was, you were doing better than you expected.
You had gotten through the bullet points of your history with Patrick. You had detailed how you met after you graduated from high school, how he had just gotten back from basic training with the Marines and was applying to join the Philadelphia police department. You explained how at first, things were great. He was loving and kind, for the most part, but you had been inexperienced and didn't recognize the red flags when you saw them. Like when he got overly possessive at house parties, and especially so when he started drinking. At first, you had thought it was sweet, but then he started getting a little rough. You explained at the time, he would apologize the next day and promise not to do it again, but a few weeks later, he would inevitably go back on his word. The cycle repeated itself over and over for a year, until he proposed one night in front of your entire family, and you had felt pressured to say yes. You had hoped it was just nerves, that eventually you would be excited about marrying him, but it never came. He had rushed you into planning the ceremony and you were only engaged for a few short months. And again, you fooled yourself into thinking everything was just happening so fast, that it was so stressful planning a wedding and that one day, you would be happy.
You couldn't remember the argument that caused him to first hit you. To really hit you, enough to leave a nasty bruise, but you remembered the shock, and you remembered the pain and the fear. And once again, he had apologized the following day, and you forgave him. Because you were weak and scared and confused.
"Did anybody in your life notice?" Beth asked, her eyes filled with what appeared to be genuine concern.
"I hid it at first, but eventually, yes, people noticed," you admitted, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.
"Did they offer to help you?"
"My cousin," you said, looking down at your hands. "She helped me... she helped me find a clinic so I wouldn't get pregnant."
"Did Patrick know you were on birth control?" Beth asked gently while scratching away with her pen on paper.
"No, I didn't think he would like that."
"Why not?"
"He's made comments to me in the past about wanting a big family, and I was afraid to tell him no. I was afraid he would hurt our children, too," you said, still staring down at your hands.
"Has he raped you?" Beth asked bluntly, and you visibly balked.
"Oh, um," you faltered, the word for whatever reason sending shockwaves through you. You knew the answer, but you just hated admitting it.
"Yes," you finally said, your voice cracking, so you cleared your throat and took a sip of water.
"I'm sorry," Beth said quietly, catching your gaze and giving you a sympathetic look. "I won't ask too much today, but you need to know if this goes to trial, a judge will ask for a lot more detail. You can get a lawyer and they will help walk you through it when the time comes." She reached out across the table to place her hand on top of yours, her thumb rubbing over your knuckles. You nodded, wordlessly telling her to keep going.
"When did it start?"
"Right after we got married, I think."
"How often?" she asked, pulling her hand back so she could focus on writing.
"A few times a week, I guess? I mean, I don't know what counts. A lot of the times I wouldn't be in the mood and he would pressure me, other times were more... deliberate." You swallowed and glanced quickly at the mirror behind Beth, suddenly regretting asking Joel to listen.
"Did you tell your parents?" Beth asked, glancing up at you.
"I told my mom, yes."
"And what did she say?"
"She told me it was a wife's duty to... be available to her husband. She didn't think it was rape." You spit the last word out like it was poison on your tongue. Beth winced but tried to hide it by looking down at her notes.
"And when would he hit you?"
"It varied. Most of the time it was when he was drunk or high. He promised me all the time he would get help, but he never stuck with it."
"Did you ever have to go to the hospital?"
"Yes. A few times. He's broken my arm twice, fractured my hip, and I've had a few concussions. On one occasion, he strangled me until I lost consciousness. I had to be admitted for a bruised trachea." You absentmindedly rubbed your arm and neck as you spoke, your fingers gliding over the old wounds.
"And you've gone to the police before?" she asked.
"Yes, a couple times, but -" you could feel your resolve breaking, and you bit your lower lip to keep it from trembling. "But he always did something to make it go away, and then he would get really mad. One time when I went to file a complaint, he had a cop friend of his lock me in a room just like this one for a whole day. To teach me a lesson." You twirled your finger around the sparse room, tears glistening in your eyes. "They didn't let me out, I couldn't use the bathroom, I didn't have anything to eat or drink. I was all alone."
You stopped talking and tucked your chin against your chest, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. You wiped a shaky palm against your cheek, drying the tears that fell before you looked back up.
"There were times he would be gone for two or three days at a time and come back, all strung out and crazy... those were the times, the times I went to the police, that I ended up in the hospital. So I stopped asking cops for help."
She nodded as she wrote, giving you a minute to collect yourself before her next question. You glanced up at the mirror again and wondered what Joel was thinking. Did he leave? Or was he still there? You almost hoped he had left. You were feeling too vulnerable as it was, but the thought of him looking at you with pity after this was over made your stomach turn.
"I've done this before," you said suddenly, pulling her attention off the page. "And it always ends up the same. Please tell me this will be different."
"It will be different," she said immediately, her jaw set. She put her pen down on her pad and laced her fingers together. "I'm so sorry the justice system as failed you so tremendously, but we will do everything we can for you now that you're here."
You nodded and wiped more of your tears away before she handed you a box of tissues from a small cabinet in the corner of the room. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you met her gaze once again.
"What else?"
"I think that's enough for today," she said, flipping the pages closed on her legal pad. "We got your doctor's report this morning, and combined with this statement we will start the process of formally pressing charges. After that, if he pleads not guilty, it will go before a judge. But let's take it one step at a time, okay?"
"Okay," you said quietly, gathering your purse and following her out of the room. Your eyes immediately drifted around the hallway and then the bullpen, searching for Joel, but he was nowhere to be found. You frowned as Beth led you towards the front lobby, prepared to walk home, when you heard his voice call your name just as you were opening the door.
"I'll take you home," he said. His face looked hardened and his eyes looked distant.
"You don't have to," you began, but he just shook his head and gingerly cupped your elbow, directing you out the door and into the parking lot.
The ride back was silent. He didn't even have the radio on. You glanced out your window nervously, trying not to read too much into it, but when he dropped you off with barely a comforting word or any acknowledgement of what you confessed, you were convinced your greatest fear had come true. Now that he knew it all, now that he finally heard the truth, he couldn't look at you the same.
You were glad Maria had the foresight to tell you to stay home that day. You were mentally exhausted. Rehashing everything and then Joel's reaction put you in an awful mood. By 4pm, after lounging around watching mindless television and checking your phone constantly for any sign of life from Joel, you decided to just make yourself an early dinner, take a shower and then go to bed early.
As you were stepping out of the shower, the water finally turned off and all of the day's makeup covering your wounds down the drain, you heard your doorbell ringing incessantly. Repeatedly. Urgently.
A jolt of dread shot down your spine, but you remembered Joel said Patrick wouldn't be let out until tomorrow. But what if he got out early? What if he made a phone call and Joel was forced to release him?
Wrapped in a robe, your hair dripping down and soaking the thin material, you jogged to the living room and checked your phone. Surely, if Patrick was released, Joel would have warned you, but you didn't have any missed calls or texts. Then the pounding on the door started, making you jump out of your skin.
Slowly, you crept down the stairs, your hand gripping the doorknob tightly, your fingers hovering over the lock.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," you heard Joel's voice say from the other side, and your eyes widened in shock. You glanced down at your robe, little streaks and drops of wetness trailing down the shiny material.
"Uh, can you -"
"Please open up, people are startin' to look at me like I'm crazy."
With a sigh, you unlocked the door and stepped back, clutching your robe tightly against your chest. Joel squeezed inside and shut the door quickly behind him before turning around, his eyes raking quickly up and down your body before looking you in the eye.
"You were in the shower."
"Yeah," you said, glancing around anxiously before looking up the stairs. "Did you want to come up or something?" He just nodded slowly, his eyes flitting down once again as you led him up the steps.
"I got worried, I was ringin' the bell but I guess you couldn't hear it," he explained, taking off his shoes and shrugging off his blazer.
"What were you worried about? He's still in jail, right?" you asked, handing him some water before sitting down on the couch.
"Yeah, I just... I shouldn'tve left you alone earlier. I shoulda stayed." He stood there, a glass of water in his hand, the other rubbing over his mouth nervously.
You stared at one another for a moment, both trying to figure the other one out. He was breathing faster than normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly under his white button down shirt.
"Why are you here, Joel?" you finally asked, your heart starting to beat faster. "Because if it's out of pity, I don't want it."
"It's not -" he cut himself off and shifted his weight before setting the water down. "It's not pity." He took two steps and sunk down into your couch, his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor, trying to figure out what to say.
"It's not fair," he finally said quietly. So quietly, you almost didn't hear him. "Everything that's happened. It's not fuckin' fair."
You scrunched your nose, confused, as you looked at him still staring down at the floor. You were about to open your mouth and ask him what he meant when he spoke again.
"I never shoulda let you leave with him that day. Somethin' felt off, I felt it in my gut-" he sat back to press his hand against his stomach for emphasis. "But I let you go. And he -"
He couldn't finish his sentence, his throat closing up as he fought to blink the tears away.
"It's not your fault, Joel," you told him, resting a hand on his broad shoulder but he stood up quickly to pace around the room.
"I'll never let it happen again," he muttered. "Never gonna let him near you again. I'll fuckin' kill him if I have to, he's never comin' here again." His voice was rising as he spoke, his breath coming in short stutters as he rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers, eyes wide and crazed as the panic seized him.
So it wasn't pity. It was guilt that brought him to you.
"Joel, calm down," you said, standing up to reach out to him, but he kept pacing.
"Oh fuck, I'm never gonna forgive myself," he whispered, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"You didn't do this to me, he did," you assured him, trying to get him to stop moving. "You're helping me, Joel. You're the only one who ever really tried to help me. There's nothing to forgive."
He finally paused and glanced at you, his breath a little shallow as the panic began to subside.
"I'm gonna get you outta this, I promise," he said, his voice sounding more steady.
"I know," you replied, nodding your head.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and tore his eyes away from you to glance at his watch.
"I better go," he said regrettably, looking back up at you again.
"Okay," you said, following him to the door and leaning against the wall as he put his shoes back on.
"D'you need anythin'? Did you eat? I can -"
"I ate, I'm fine," you told him with a small smile. "Thank you, though."
"Alright," he said after a moment, then forced himself to open the door. Before he stepped through, he looked back at you over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I'm working dinner tomorrow," you told him, suddenly feeling crestfallen you wouldn't see him for lunch.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he repeated, more firm this time. You slowly nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, hoping he couldn't see through your robe.
You listened sadly as his heavy footsteps descended the stairs and the door shut softly behind him. You knew him well enough at this point that he would have turned the lock on the knob before he left but you still wanted to peek down the steps to check. Your eyes widened when, to your surprise, he was still standing there at the bottom of your stairs, his back leaning up against the door. His eyes flicked up to meet yours when he noticed movement, and you saw Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he spoke.
"I can't leave."
You looked at one another for a long moment, your heart slamming in your chest, knowing what this meant. You were sick and tired of always trying to do the right thing. Where did it get you? How could you even fool yourself into thinking you had any obligation to Patrick anymore? Joel knew everything now. He knew what he was doing, so you said the words that were on the tip of your tongue. The words that you knew would open the door for something both of you wanted so desperately, you could taste it.
"Then stay."
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Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things
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quin-ns · 1 year
Text
Invisible String (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 3K
Summary: bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower
Tags: 2007 (as seen in ep3), age gap, protective!joel, jealousy, tess isn’t painted in a bad light but she gets her feelings hurt a lil, angst, joel being emotionally suppressed, everyone hiding their emotions actually no one copes normally, emotional hurt/comfort, hugs, pining!joel, hugs, fluff
Request: anon: “hello! i am totally obsessed with your work! i was womdering, if you still take requests, if you can write a joel x reader fic where the reader has a tough exterior with everyone, including Joel, but he knows how sensitive and delicate she is on the inside and behind closed doors. picture this for reference: she had warm water at bill and frank's and she started sobbing uncontrollably, but in front of joel she will always deny she doesn't feel depressed and emotional, but he knows better that this and they both help each other to open up.”
Request: anon: “loved your first joel fic!! if you’re okay with requests can you do another joel fic where maybe tess is jealous of how joel softens around the reader? like he’s not really an affectionate guy but with her he is and tess realizes how he feels about the reader? maybe they’re at frank and bills house and she knows joel doesn’t want to stay but for the reader he will? or something like that it’s up to you- you’re the writer after all”
A/N: so since both of these requests included joel being soft for the reader and them being at bill and franks, I decided to combine them. I liked both concepts and I thought mixing them would lead to something interesting. I feel like there’s more to this story so if y’all want a part two lmk
Cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist
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When you, Joel, and Tess first met Bill and Frank, none of you had any idea how you’d end up feeling about the two men.
Frank had allowed the three of you to enter their isolated town and introduced them both (okay, nice enough), and then Bill had pointed a gun at you (not so nice). Why you? No particular reason other than that you were his closest target. From that moment Joel wasn’t a fan.
“If you’re gonna point that thing at someone, point it at me. Not at her,” Joel said sternly, his hardened gaze fixed on Bill. The two stared one another down for a moment as Bill quickly identified Joel’s weakness. Tess looked at Joel, working hard to hide the frustration on her face.
He obliged, turning the gun onto Joel.
“Bill,” Frank said softly yet firmly.
Bill glanced at Frank, who was silently asking him to relent. Bill lowered the gun with a huff.
With the hostility out of the way, or at least set aside for the moment, Frank offered you an apologetic smile.
“Would you like to see our home?” he asked as a peace offering.
“We’d love to,” Tess answered at the same time as Joel, who said—
“We actually should be going.”
You didn’t say anything, which caused them both to look at you. Tie breaker.
Tess had a feeling you’d agree with her, but what happened next still bothered her.
You and Joel exchanged a look, having a silent conversation. Joel registered that despite the gun incident, you weren’t fearful. It was only because of that that Joel looked at Frank and nodded.
“Alright,” he changed his answer.
Tess wanted to scream.
Frank seemed relieved and his smile grew. He led the three of you to the large white house that the two men called their home.
“You’re welcome to anything in the house,” Frank said kindly, ignoring the disapproving grunt that came from Bill. “Clothes, medicine, water, food—although Bill will be starting dinner soon—and of course the shower,” he listed off.
Your ears perked up at “shower.” Joel could tell by the way you actually lifted your head. Just a day ago you had been reminiscing on how long it had been since you felt clean. Like, really clean. Hot water, soap, soft towel—you longed for it and Joel knew that.
Frank noticed too. “Shower it is.”
“Thank you,” you said immediately. “For being so kind and sharing your home with us.”
“If I’m being honest, I’ve been bugging Bill for us to find some friends,” Frank admitted to you quietly. “Speaking of which,” he started. “Bill? Maybe you could get our other guests some drinks? I’m going to show—“ he looked back at you.
“Y/N,” you filled in.
“—Y/N to the shower,” Frank finished.
You didn’t hear what Bill had to say, but that was the least of your concern as Frank gestured for you to follow him.
Joel watched as you followed Frank away. He itched to go after you, not comfortable with you being apart from him. He felt incredibly protective over you and maybe it wasn’t the healthiest reaction, but he didn’t like to let you out of his sight. It scared him—not that he’d ever admit it.
“Don’t worry, I think she’ll survive without you,” Tess said sarcastically, smothering the genuine bitterness she felt at the man’s reaction. Joel was never like this before. Well, before you.
Joel threw her a glance, but didn’t say anything. Bill was approaching them and grumpily suggested they follow him into the kitchen.
They all made casual conversation, Tess doing most of the talking.
Upstairs, Frank was showing you to the shower. He’d given you a towel and found you soap, shampoo, and conditioner.
“Thank you so much,” you said yet again. Frank just laughed it off and told you no worries, and that if you needed anything you could just call for him.
You closed the door, isolating yourself in the bathroom. You turned on the water and held your hand under it until it was warm. A smile spread across your face. You quickly stripped and stepped under the water, longing for the feel of a hot shower.
It was everything you had hoped for. You relished in the hot water rushing over your tired body.
You prided yourself on being tough—like not even flinching when Bill pulled his gun on you—but something about the comfort that reminded you of the old world brought tears to your eyes. Their house was so normal. Nothing like the wilderness, the destroyed towns, or even the QZ. You were only a child when the pandemic happened, but you held onto a few fond memories. You never felt at home in the QZ.
The only thing that made it feel comfortable and safe was Joel, but this was still so much better than the QZ. It was overwhelming.
Next thing you knew, a sob of happiness broke free. And once it started you couldn’t stop.
In the kitchen, Bill was standing at the stove cooking. Joel didn’t know what it was—but it smelled delicious. Frank had excused himself to set up a table outside so everyone could eat together in the nice weather.
“Sorry, by the way,” Bill announced, off topic from the previous discussion. He didn’t look up from his task of sautéing onions as he spoke. “For the uh, gun thing. Can’t be too careful.”
Tess and Joel looked at one another. They both suspected Frank must’ve said something to convince him to apologize. But beyond that, they both thought back to the incident. A flash of anger shot through Joel at the memory of the weapon being targeted at you. Tess remembered how reckless Joel had been, asking Bill to turn the gun on him. Would he really trade his life for yours? Once Tess started thinking about that, she couldn’t stop.
She started to become quiet during the conversation, which was pretty much when the talking fizzled out. Joel wasn’t very talkative, and clearly neither was Bill.
“I’m gonna go see if Frank needs help,” Bill decided after a few minutes. Joel and Tess exchanged a look. Obviously he just wanted away from them for a moment of relief—he wasn’t anticipating having to be social and wasn’t too happy with it.
Once they had a moment alone, Joel had a feeling Tess was going to unleash. It had been building up, Joel could tell her mood had turned sour.
“What was that?” she asked vaguely. Joel furrowed his brows. “Earlier,” she clarified.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joel stated. He had an inclination, but he was hoping Tess would drop it.
She didn’t. “You asked him to point a gun at you!” Tess said in a hushed yell, frustration seeping out in her scolding tone.
“He wasn’t going to shoot me,” Joel deadpanned.
“He wasn’t going to shoot at all,” Tess confirmed. “So then why did you tell him to turn it on you?”
She was pushing for an answer she didn’t want, but now that she had started Tess wasn’t going to let up. She was stubborn like that.
“I didn’t like him pointing a gun at Y/N,” Joel admitted. The memory of it made him clench his fist. Tess didn’t see that, but she saw the way Joel wouldn’t hold her gaze.
Her jaw clenched. “You’re too soft on her.”
At that, Joel scoffed. The sound came out before he could stop it. “How is that being too soft on her?”
Tess was quiet for a moment, contemplating her next words. “It’s not just that,” she said, quieter, almost distant. It was a contrast to how loud she’d been getting.
Joel took a deep breath through his nose, then let out a heavy sigh. He finally looked Tess dead in the eye. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
If it wasn’t for the desperate look on Tess’s face, he would’ve gotten up and walked away. She wasn’t done. She was struggling to say what she wanted to say, and Joel didn’t want her to.
“The moment she came into our lives, that was it,” Tess told herself just as much as she was saying it to Joel.
She was backing Joel into a corner. “Where is this coming from?” he questioned.
Tess let out a humorless laugh. “This has been a long time coming,” she confessed. “I see the way you look at her, how you act around her. She’s just about half your age and yet you always seem to find something in common. You cut me out, Joel.”
Joel was at a loss of words. He couldn’t seem to find the words to defend himself. Tess continued.
“We’ve been in that scenario before, do you remember? When you and I were making a trade and the punk pointed a gun at me?” Tess recalled. Joel recovered the memory quickly, and he began to zero in on exactly why this meant so much to Tess. “You never would’ve considered trading yourself for me. I know because you didn’t.”
“That was different,” was all Joel could come up with.
“I never would’ve made you choose between me and her, but you did on your own,” Tess held firm. Her jaw clenched as she fought to not let herself get any more emotional. “And you chose her. I see that now.”
“Tess,” Joel started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t try to lie to me. Please.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Joel said. He wasn’t even sure what he was planning on saying before. This had all come out of nowhere. At least for him, Tess had clearly had this on her mind for a long while and today just happened to be the final straw. “I’m sorry,” he decided, but it was too little too late.
Tess liked you. She really did. And you hadn’t done anything on purpose. You probably didn’t even know the effect you had on Joel. That’s what made being jealous of you so hard. She wanted to not like you, to blame you for stealing any ounce of affection Joel allowed himself to have, but she couldn’t.
She cleared her throat. “I’m going to go check and see if they need any help setting up outside.” The sudden calmness was eerie. Joel looked at her cautiously. “We’re going to just… drop this,” Tess decided. “And we can all try and have a nice time together, eat a real meal, take hot showers, and relax for the night before we head out in the morning.”
Suppression. Tess was going to bottle everything up. Ignore it and move on. It was something her and Joel had in common.
She left him then, and Joel felt no desire to go after her. He felt guilty about that, but he had nothing left to say to Tess about that and she’d concluded her piece.
Instead, Joel found himself leaving the kitchen table. He followed the sound of running water upstairs. You’d been in the shower for a while and there was a nagging feeling in Joel’s chest that longed to find you.
His feet carried him to the bathroom door, where he knew you still were.
Joel heard a sad, gasping sound from you. It was nearly drowned out, but he heard it. Concern overwhelmed him in an instant.
Joel pressed his ear to the door. He almost busted in, but wanted to take a moment. And it was good he did. What he had first thought were sounds of distress, was actually you muffling cries of relief. He could tell. He wasn’t sure how—maybe it was the tone, or the softness to the sounds, or he just knew you too well—but he could tell.
His hand reached for the doorknob. Joel grasped it and contemplated turning it. He leaned the side of his head against the door.
“Y/N?” Joel called through the door. He went blank over what else to say. Should he ask if you were alright? Would you be weirded out if he asked to come in? You were showering after all. Instead he said nothing.
You went silent. Joel felt bad now. You were never emotional around anyone, you tried to hide it from him. Joel wished you wouldn’t. But he supposed you were just following by example.
“Yeah?” you asked.
“Um,” Joel stalled. “I was just checking on you.”
“Oh, um, I'm alright,” you replied. A few seconds of quiet passed. “Thank you, though.”
Joel listened to the sound of water rushing from the shower. You’d stopped your tears it seemed, but Joel could hear the quiver in your voice when you’d spoken.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Joel told you carefully.
“I’m fine, Joel,” you assured.
When Joel first met you, you were innocent despite the dark world and wore your heart on your sleeve. You used to express yourself emotionally, but now Joel couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you let yourself break.
You’d gotten better about hiding it. He wanted to help you open up, but that was something even he struggled to do.
Joel went down the stairs and to the living room. No one else was in the house, he could see out the window that Frank was showing Tess around their garden while Bill was setting up the food.
Joel sat on the couch and thought over your interaction through the door. He wished he would have waited for you to come out of the bathroom to talk to you, to make sure you were okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Because then he’d have to explain himself as to why and after the conversation with Tess, he feared how you’d react to the knowledge of his feelings.
As if on cue, there were light steps descending down the stairs. Joel turned to look at you.
Your hair was damp, and you were wearing an oversized clean shirt that must’ve come from one of the hosts (Frank was the nicer one, so Joel guessed it was him who lent you it) and a pair of jeans that you’d packed that you hadn’t worn yet.
“Hi,” you greeted.
“Hey,” Joel said, watching you as you moved over to him. “Everyone else is outside.”
“I see that,” you said lightly. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Joel asked.
You shrugged. “I thought I heard arguing earlier. You and Tess,” you explained. “Bathroom is right above the kitchen��”
A brief moment of unease filled Joel. “What all did you hear?”
“No words clearly, just Tess raising her voice,” you revealed. Joel just gave you a slight nod. He had a feeling that wasn’t the only thing you had to say. “Did you, um… hear me earlier?”
Joel knew instantly what you meant. “No.” He hated lying to you. “Yes.”
“I thought so. I just”—you searched for your words—“I’m fine. That was just—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
You swallowed and took a breath. “I’m not weak.”
Joel let out a small huff. “I know that.” That fact that you thought you had to tell him was amusing in an odd way. He was well aware.
“Well, alright then,” you said decidedly. “It’s just been so long since we’ve had hot water and—“
“You don’t have to explain yourself. You’re allowed to feel,” Joel reminded. “I know you. You’re strong. But you’re also a good, sweet, caring person and I just”—Joel sighed, struggling for his words even as they were tumbling out—“I don’t want to see you go numb to the world. I don’t want you to end up like me.”
You looked at him curiously. He stood for some reason, it felt more natural for him. Your eyes held his on his way up. “You’re not numb, Joel,” you told him, sounding so sure of yourself. “I don’t think that. I think you put on a brave face just like I do. Although I guess I’m not as good at hiding it as I thought.”
A small laugh left you as you shook your head.
“What?”
“It’s just been so long since I talked about… feelings,” you admitted.
“Same here,” Joel agreed.
“It’s weird, isn’t it? I shouldn’t be, but it is.”
Joel got an idea. He hoped it wasn’t a bad one. “Maybe we can… help each other with that. Y’know, find a way to talk about it.”
You gave him a gentle smile. Before Joel could process, you were wrapping your arms around him and clinging to him in a hug. It was a sudden, unfamiliar movement. Joel held you against his body, resting his chin on your head.
“That’s a good idea,” you told him, your voice muffled against him.
Joel hadn’t touched, let alone held, someone in so long. It was nice. Mostly because it was you.
The sound of a door opening and heavy steps alerted you, causing you and Joel to part from one another. Frank approached the two of you with a welcoming smile on his face.
“Dinners ready,” he informed, looking between the both of you.
“Seriously, we cannot thank you enough, Frank,” you said kindly. He gestured towards the door in an “after you” manner. You gave him a smile and headed outside. Before you stepped out, you gave Joel one last grateful look.
There was a slight smile on Frank’s face as he looked at Joel, who hadn’t moved yet.
“It’s nice to have someone in a world like this, isn’t it?” Frank asked in a sincere tone.
Joel looked out the window towards the garden where you joined the table. You smiled at the sight of the food and took a seat.
After having a whole conversation about allowing feelings, Joel decided that he didn’t want to suppress the small smile of appreciation that crossed his own face.
“Yeah, it is,” Joel answered.
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starting a joel taglist, if you’d like to be on it lmk through an ask or message!
joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose
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mysaintkitten · 1 month
Text
I fully forgot I had this .. so here’s a little something for y’all lol
prompt: Jonathan calls you up after having a few drinks
WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), mentions of alcohol/intoxication, brief mentions of suicide, subby-ish Jonathan, phone sex, come eating
*not proofread & old as hell*
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you’re abruptly awoken by the phone ringing. through squinted eyes, you peak at the clock sitting on top of your nightstand.
1:03 am flashes at you. who’s calling at this hour? you drag your body out of bed and trudge your way over to the living room where your home phone resides. once there, you drop to the couch and grab the phone, putting it up to your ear.
“hello?” you groan, you hear a small snicker on the other end.
“hiii babyyy!” they respond, clearly a little tipsy, you immediately recognize the voice.
it’s jonathan, your close friend, who had recently got placed into a psyche ward after attempting to kill himself. you hadn’t heard from him since he had told you the news. now here he is, ringing your phone at 1 am, while simultaneously dropping a “baby” bomb on you.
“jonathan?” you blurted, feeling yourself become a bit more awake, “what are you doing? why are you up? how do you even have access to a phone right now?”
he sighs into the phone, “me and toby sn- toby’s m’pal .. by the way .. we snuck out ‘n had a few drinks ..” his mumbles, “now ‘m allllll alone ..” he whines, dragging out the all to emphasize his loneliness, “oh ‘n about the phone .. since i’ve been so good they gave me a landline, cordless too, i mean they couldn’t give me a cord ‘cause i might wrap it around my neck, but it’s nifty!”
you roll your eyes. of course he’d do some shit like this. if it was any other friend, you would’ve told them bluntly that you’re not in the mood to talk, but jonathan was an exception right now. he was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, and his comment about wrapping the cord around his neck grounded you back into reality. you decided to chat with him for a while.
“is that so?” you reply, “how’d the night go?”
“fun!” he bubbled, “oh m’god .. me and toby .. my friend .. we saw this piss drunk guy fall in the street!” he giggles while recounting the incident. you giggle with him, not so much at the story, but at the fact that he felt the need to reiterate that he has a friend named toby.
“that sound very funny, jon, but shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”
he whines, “‘m not tired! plus i’ve been thinking about you .. that’s why i called .. wanted to hear your voice ..”
oh?
“why’d you wanna hear my voice? you miss me that much?” you joke, relaxing more into the couch. he hums, “jus’ like how it sounds ..”
“well. you woke me up, and i don’t think i’ll be able to go back to sleep, so you’re welcome to listen to my voice for a while.” you chuckle softly, not thinking too heavily about his intentions. he’s drunk, after all.
“hmm ..” he mumbles in approval, “can you jus’ talk? tell me about your day, love ..”
your brows furrow a bit at the request, but you oblige.
“i didn’t do too much .. just showered .. picked up a bit .. it was nice though.”
he groans quietly at you mentioning showering.
“mmh .. wards got no nice soaps .. i like how your soaps smell. always smellin’ so good ..” he murmurs, through the phone you can hear some minor rustling, but you assume it’s just jonathan drunkenly tossing and turning.
you laugh at his odd compliment, “you think i smell nice?”
“oh, i think a lot of you s’nice, darling.” he assures, his breathing becoming heavier
“what else about me is nice, jonathan?” you ask, thinking he’ll say something corny like your humour or your personality.
“that face f’yours .. gorgeous ..” he giggles and huffs, “‘n that body .. maybe it’s ’cause ‘m all alone .. ‘n a bit tipsy .. but i can’t stop thinkin’ about touchin’ you ..”
oh.
you’re not too sure what to say. you’ve been friends with jonathan for years, you would have never assumed that he wanted you that way. jonathan was very attractive, and you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about him in a sexual way before.
“jonathan ..” you reply calmly, “i think you’re just drunk and confused, how about we talk more tomorrow? you can call me when-“
he whines, “no, baby, ‘m sorry .. i’ve just wanted you .. for so long ..” he hums as his breathing becomes louder, “‘n now .. just your voice got me s’hard ..”
you pause, listening to jonathan, you still hear the shuffling and his breathing. occasionally he whines a few times, is he touching himself?
“jon, are you .. getting off right now?”
he chuckles, “s’hard .. mmh .. thought i might faint.”
you hate to admit it, but hearing jonathan’s neediness got you a little worked up. knowing he was hard just from your voice ignited some interesting feelings from within you.
as your mind is racing, jonathan speaks, “if i w’s there .. would y’touch me?”
your heart begins to pound, his words have become more direct. he’s not just rambling about how he feels, he wants to know how you feel. you slip one of your hands into your panties, feeling how slick you’ve become from jonathan’s words. you might as well get yourself off as well.
instead of answering, you flip the question. “i’m wondering what you’d do if i was there.” you laugh breathily as you gently rub your clit. jonathan whines into the phone, “god, baby, s’filthy. y’don’t even wanna know ..”
“tell me. i want to hear it.” you pry as you become more aroused, hearing jonathan moan weakly at his own thoughts.
“mmh .. wanna eat your cunt .. make y’come at least once on m’face ..” he groans, “wanna fuck you. raw. make y’shake ‘n cry from my cock. wanna make that cunt feel so so good.”
jesus. really didn’t take much convincing for him to spill his thoughts. you bite your lip at his words, hearing his fantasies made you blush embarrassingly hard.
“hm .. yeah?” you moan into the phone, rubbing your clit at a quicker pace
“‘n i wanna eat you again after my cocks been ‘nside you .. lick up our come ..” jonathan gasps, through the phone you can hear him fisting his now slick cock. “then i wanna kiss you when m’done ..” he adds, chuckling a bit.
“god ..” you sigh, “you are filthy.”
you’re finding it difficult to hold back your moans, you almost want jonathan to hear them at this point.
“you .. you got me all wet, jon ..” you admit a bit awkwardly, you’ve never had phone sex before, but you don’t think jonathan will notice.
he whimpers “are y’touching yourself, baby?”
“yeah .. yeah i am ..” you purr, sliding a finger inside yourself and moaning softly as you plunge it in and out.
“jesus, fuck ..” he huffs, “you rubbin’ your clit? or fingering yourself?”
“i’m doing both .. switchin’ every now and then ..” you coo, adding a second finger inside. you hiss slightly at the change, but your cunt quickly adapts and accepts the second finger.
“mmh!” jonathan moans, “s’hot, knowing you’ve got y’fingers all over that pussy .. you sensitive, baby?”
he’s really into calling you baby. although it feels foreign, you’re not opposed to it at all.
“yeah .. a bit ..” you chuckle breathlessly as you remove your slick fingers out and bring them back to your clit.
“oh, fuck ..” he whimpers loudly, “baby, baby, ‘m not gonna last- m’sorry ..”
you could tell from jonathan’s tone and desperate little whimpers that he was close, he didn’t need to tell you, but it’s kind of nice that he at least let you know.
“that’s okay, come jon. show me how good it feels.” you purr. he can’t physically show you, but he can verbalize it, and he does.
“mmf- fuck, baby, ‘m comin’-“ he moans loudly, you’re worried other people in the ward might hear him.
“that’s it, come on yourself jon, good boy.” you encourage, you’re almost surprised that you called him a good boy, you never expected that to slip out.
his moans dwindle into small little whimpers as he rides out the orgasm, huffing quietly once he’s come down.
“‘m all messy, baby ..” he giggles,
“poor thing, you gonna clean yourself up?” you hum to tease.
“mhm .. nice ‘n clean ..” he mumbles as you hear him making small sucking and licking noises,
“jon, are you licking up your come?” you nearly chuckle at him,
“well no one’s ‘ere to do it for me ..” he whines, continuing to lick away his come.
“jesus. dirty, dirty boy.” you scold playfully, toying with your clit again.
“‘m a dirty boy ..” he repeats while yawning, “dirty boy.”
“you tired?” you ask softly,
“mmh, yeah, little bit ..” he mumbles,
“how about you get some sleep and we talk more tomorrow, all right?”
“mmh.. but i wanna talk ..” he groans,
you laugh weakly at his determination, “i’ll be here tomorrow. trust me. get some sleep. we can talk when you’re more awake and sober.”
“fine .. g’night baby. sweet dreams.” he gives in, yawning again
“sleep well, jonathan.” you close before hanging up. as you place the phone down, you’re left with silence and your thoughts. you decide you might as well get yourself off, and you do, you come in your pants to the thought of jonathan’s whimpers and moans. then, you clean yourself off before heading back to bed.
Not to jinx myself … but I am currently writing. Send me good energy yall please
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fictionalgap · 6 months
Text
Roommate: Too sick (chapter 1)
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Pairing: Hazel Callahan x Reader
Summary: Hazel, you, PJ and Josie got accepted in the same college and were living together. You didn't know that Hazel was such a mother hen till you became roommates. You tried not to get too flustered while she took care of you.
Warning: 18+ Themes
Warning: Swearing. Mentions of vibrators and alcohol. This fic most likely contain smut scenes in later chapters.
Other Chapters: Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5
Song Recommendation: Crush - Tessa Violet
PJ, Josie, Hazel and you all wanted to go to same college and accepted which you all were super excited about. It has been months since you share the same place. Four rooms, living room and kitchen are combined and two bathrooms. Of course only one has a shower. But still thank god It's two bathrooms.
It has been a real experience living with them for you.
It's usually Josie and you who cooks. PJ and Hazel were officially banned from the kitchen. Well, not the fridge. But you know, the stove…
It was decided by Josie and you when Hazel and PJ tried to make Hazel's grandmother's recipe. They were alone at home when it happened. PJ wanted to help Hazel to cook, for the first time in forever and it did not end well. You were the first one who found out this incident. You were going to a friend's to study but you realized you forgot your phone at your guys place so you went back and saw the the huge ass smoke and firefighters and a frantic Hazel and PJ on the street.
Sundays were cleaning days. Everyone cleaned their own room, except PJ. Her room was the messiest and most dust producing room which made the whole place worse. All of you argued with her regularly about this but she swore that she cleaned it regularly.
One time she took Hazel's shirt to wear it for a date which she never asked Hazel If she could take it and of course PJ being PJ, forgot to give her shirt back.
"Ugh, I couldn't find it, okay. Just look into my room."
"What do you mean look into your room? If I go there, I don't know If I will be able to come back! Have you seen your room?"
"It's literally a black hole that is disguised as a pile of stuff." You stated with a smirk.
"It's a PJ hol-" Josie was about to smugly say,
"Okay! That's enough! I got it, okay!" until PJ interrupted Josie.
You told Hazel you would help her looking for her shirt which was an encouragement for her cause God knows, It takes lots of courage to go in that room.
You and Hazel started to look for the shirt in PJ's room.
"Oh…Oh my god! OH MY GOD!" Hazel shouted. Hazel put her hands onto her head and moved backwards with worried eyes.
"What? You found i-, Oh my god! What is this!" Hazel gagged as she sat down on the floor and you looked at the thing for a while, not believing what you see.
You snorted and laughed hysterically. "Josie! Josie, come here!" You screamed and held your stomach as Hazel groaned as she was in pain.
"What? Guys, why are you-, Hazel are you okay?" Josie kneeled down next to Hazel.
"I wish I never came here." Hazel's bottom lip quiverred as her eyes got teary. She layed on the floor in fetal position, color drenched out her skin.
Josie left Hazel's side to see what you were trying to show her and she saw the 'thing' and froze in her place like three minutes then PJ came into the room.
The 'thing' was a vibrator. A baby blue vibrator with a silicone layer which was covered a mild green to a dark green mold. Plus tiny flies were on it. You didn't know how many.
"What's this all fuss about, huh? My room's messy I got i-. Hey, I was looking for this… I guess I have to get a new one." she sighed and got out of the room with a moldy vibrator.
"You guess?" you aand Hazel shouted at the same time.
We all got out of her room. Hazel recovered from this incident once she calmed down. As for Josie, we all knew she would never be the same after this incident. Except PJ, who thinks vibrators getting moldy is only natural so she didin't understand the trauma she caused.
Hazel never found her shirt as PJ never cleaned her room. You thought she wouldn't want it back anyways.
You would still laugh whenever you remembered this.
College was never really boring with your roommates. You thought your friends at college were cool but your roommates were TRULY one in a million.
For you, Hazel was one of a kind.
You knew you needed to wear something more suitable for autumn but you didn't want to look like a buritto, going to the parties. It had a cost.
You coughed and it sounded like as If you were an animal who's in pain and about to die. You sneezed into the poor napkin as you layed down on your bed. 'How It was possible to be tired while you were laying down all day?' you thought as you sneezed again. You got up and opened the window. It was cold but you needed fresh air too.
You were upset that you missed your classes. You mailed your professors and they let you know It's okay. You would take your notes from your friends anyway.
You thought of last night. PJ interrupted Hazel's studying last evening, again. You were glad that you studied at library earlier. It was quiet and PJ-free. You liked your friend but she usually would convince you all to watch a movie, play a board game or go to a party. Or she would simply talk to you not caring If you listen or not.
Flashback
"Come on! Barry is giving a huge ass party. There is booze, there are girls, there are-"
"PJ, you are with Brittany. You remember, right? " Josie interrupted.
"Yeah…but no one says you can't look. I am not gonna eat them. I'll just… observe them. Just a small feast for my eyes since she decided to went to a college far away." PJ crossed her arms with a frown.
"You can always video chat with her." Hazel pouted.
"It's not the same thing, Hazel!" PJ yelled, frustrated.
"Yeah but what would she feel If one of us accidentally told her what you have said about party and girls and observing them…" you said with a playful smirk.
PJ raised her brows. "I'd probably beat the shit out of you."
"Ugh, that's harsh." you scoffed.
"Anyways, we should get ready. Move your asses, now!" PJ said as she walked to her room to get ready for the party.
"Are you going, Y/N?" she looked at you with puppy eyes.
"Yeah… I would try to convince you to come but I don't want to interrupt your studying." you said with sad eyes.
Hazel played with her rings. " I had swimming practice. If I wouldn't, I could study with you earlier."
"Study with me?" You raised brow. How did she knew you studied? Did she saw you?
"Yeah…library is on the way to pool so… a-and you always study on the same corner next to window." She played with her rings nervously.
'She saw me all the times...' you gulped to the thought. You looked at her hands, not being able to face her. She was playing with her rings nervously until she catched you watching them. Three, maybe four seconds passed when you realized she saw that you were looking at her hands. It could be just because you liked her rings.
In a totally straight way, obviously.
You averted your gaze and got up from your seat. "I didn't realize you saw me." you chuckled nervously.
"Yeah…I never told you and you look very focused during studying so…" she nodded her head to herself.
"Hm…we can always study another time If you'd like… Well, not here though, cause-"
"PJ?" she smiled widely.
"Yeah." You answered her smile with yours.
"I am going to change now. Have a good study session." you said and walked to your room to change your clothes.
You walked to your room and after spending five minutes in front of your wardrobe, you wore a white crop top, black baggy jeans, black converse and a black denim jacket. You left your hair down.
"Nice…" PJ said with a smirk.
"Thanks. You too." You checked her clothes.
"Isn't that a little bit thin though? You might get cold." Hazel said pointing your crop top. You blushed at what she said.
She was changed her clothes as well.
Josie pointed at Hazel. "Are you coming?"
"Yep."
PJ smirked coyly." That's the spirit!"
"Weren't you going to study?" you raised a brow.
"I'll study tomorrow. I'm not gonna drink much tonight, anyways." she said, looking at your clothes. "Really, Y/N, you'll get sick. "
"It's fine… We have a ride." you sighed.
"Even I don't worry that much for my girlfriend, Hazel." PJ wiggled her brows playfully with a smirk.
You couldn't help but blushed at what PJ said. You saw Hazel was looking down at her shoes and Josie was smiling at both of you.
Josie's smile ended with her phone ring. "Our ride is here. Let's go."
End of the flashback
You didn't know If this was cold or flu but Hazel was right.
You got sick and everything hurt. Moving hurt. Your head hurt. Your eyes felt like they were pierced. Your ears hurt. You could hardly breathe. Whatever this was, It was draining the shit out of you. You hated that you were wrong but you loved that Hazel was all around you. You also felt guilty about it cause she was interrupting her studying by checking up on you, getting you water, food, making you herbal teas every half an hour…
The thing about Hazel, she turns into a mother hen whenever someone gets sick. Especially when you were sick. You thought it was because you were closer with her than PJ and Josie.
You still rememeber the first week of moving here, you had a migraine attack. She went to the pharmacy without anyone noticing and came back with painkillers and a migraine stick.
And she massaged your temple till you fell aslept. You didn't know If you imagined something touching on your forehead. Preferably her lips. But you thought It was probably a fantasy of yours or a dream.
Of course, you were very pleased with her taking care of you. So you didn't mind getting sick. Maybe even It led you to wear thinner clothes. Not on purpose though.
Subconsciously.
You didn't really wanted to admit it but the idea of someone taking care of you, turned you on a little bit.
The idea of Hazel taking care of you, burned and twisted the parts of you, which you never knew that existed because you had a slight crush on her.
Just a tiny one…
Hazel knocked the door three times.
"Come in." your voice came out shaky.
Hazel came into your room with a smile.
"Hazel you don't have to check up on me every hour." you coughed as you said.
Hazel grabbed a chair with her one hand and placed it next your bed with a smile. She became more musclar and the veins on her arms looked like they were going to pop since she decided to join the college's swimming team. You were very enthusiastic about her decision.
She had a bowl in her hand. You looked up to her and saw her pouting.
"I'm so close thinking you don't want me here, Y/N."
'Well, fuck me!' you cursed to yourself for making her think that. You didn't think she was joking.
"Of course I want you here, Haze. It's just you couldn't study last night and now you can't study because of me." you explained quickly.
She grinned. "I know you do. And I am studying very well and I need breaks too, you know."
She usually took things at face value so It made you shocked to see her saying something without meaning it.
"Well you said it seriously so I thought-"
"I was joking." She took the strand of hair which was front of your nose and placed it behind your ear.
She beamed at you for a half a minute. You felt your heart beating very fast.
"Yeah… What's that?" you pointed to the bowl in her hand.
You noticed a spoon in Hazel's hand and the bowl was smelling really good.
"Chicken soup. I squeezed some lemon in it too."
Your eyes widen at what she has just said.
"No, no, no! I didn't make it! I ordered it. Don't worry. I made a promise to you and Josie and I remember." Her eyes widened as well.
You chuckled. "Okay. Cool. Uhm,… thank you Hazel." You sit up staright in your bed and you were going to took the bowl from Hazel's hand but she didn't give it to you.
"Ugh…?" You have her a confusing look.
"Let me feed you, please. " She made a puppy face.
"Y-you don't have to." you stuttered. Honestly, even your arms hurt when you moved them. And you would definitely not mind her feeding you. It was just you were afraid to make a fool of yourself.
"You seem really tired. Come on. " She pouted again.
"Ugh…okay but stop making that face." you said you averted your gaze.
"What face?" she grinned. Maybe she actually knew what she was doing.
"You know what you're doing, don't you?" She ignored your question and sighed as she blew the soup little to make it colder.
"Open up." she smiled as she held the spoon full of soup to you.
You drinked the soup and It was delicious. You would drink whatever she gave anyway.
"Thank you Hazel. Soup felt really good." you smiled gratefully to her. Your cheeks burned but It was okay that your cheeks were pink because you were sick so she wouldn't think it that way.
"Of course. Least I can do." She smiled at you for a moment as you held eye contact with her. "Oh, I forgot the vitamin!" she said as she got up and left your room.
"What? You ordered vitamin too?" you yelled for her to hear you from the other room.
She came back with a vitamin c supplement in her hand.
"No, I went to the pharmacy."
"Hazel you spent too much time. You go study now!" You scolded her.
"Okay, okay! And It was a ten minute walk. It's not much. Plus walking in fresh air is a good break time."
"Here." She held the vitamin your lips and you felt bold and took it with your lips while keeping eye contact with her.
It was awkward.
In a sexy way.
Her body froze except her eyelids, they blinked a couple of times until she gave you a glass of water to swallow the pill.
She cleared her throat. "So, I'll go study now. If there is anything you need-"
"I'll tell you. I know."
"Okay." she said as she rushed out of the room.
'Fuck.' you told yourself and laid down on your back as you wait for sleep.
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its-avalon-08 · 22 days
Note
Can you do one where max verstappen x leclerc!sister reader? set this after austria 2019. y/n refuses to talk to max, and max refuses to talk to y/n. both angry for their own reasons. charles hates seeing them so distant so he goes and sorts it out even though he is still furious at max.
Thanks!
to hell with him (mv1, cl16! as a brother)
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the champagne showers at the red bull ring were a stark contrast to the storm brewing between you and max. two years. two years of laughter, whispered secrets in motorhomes, stolen kisses under starlit skies, all culminating in this icy silence. the roar of the austrian national anthem barely registered as you stared at the podium, charles' jubilant face mocking your shattered heart.
max's reckless move on leclerc in the final lap had cost him the win and ignited a firestorm within you. the frustration, the fear, the betrayal – a cocktail of emotions that left you speechless. max, on the other hand, was fuming. he'd taken the risk for the win, a win that could have closed the gap in the championship. your disapproval felt like another blow, a rejection that added insult to injury.
charles, ever the mediator, couldn't bear the tension any longer. after the podium celebrations, he found you drowning your sorrows – non-alcoholic champagne, of course – in the red bull hospitality area. "y/n," he started cautiously, "we need to talk."
you sighed, the dam threatening to burst. "not now, charles. please."
he persisted, his monegasque accent soft yet firm. "it's breaking him too, you know."
you scoffed. "right, because it's all about him."
his words hung heavy in the air. a flicker of doubt ignited within you. could he be right? but before you could process it, max entered, a dark cloud following him. he scanned the room, his gaze landing on you.
across the room, charles, his own disappointment at a missed podium simmering, couldn't bear the tension any longer. he stormed over, his gaze hard. "this is ridiculous," he declared, voice taut. "talk to each other."
max, surrounded by team personnel, barely glanced up. "nothing to say."
you choked back a retort, the sting of betrayal raw in your throat. charles, seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, turned to max, his voice low, fierce. "that wasn't racing, max. you almost took me out. don't you get it?"
max flinched at the mention of your name, but his jaw remained clenched. "it was a racing incident, charles. end of story."
the tension crackled. you stood abruptly, tears blurring your vision, and stormed out, the echo of cheers hollow in your ears. hurt morphed into anger. you stormed out of the room, the cool night air doing little to soothe your burning cheeks. tears, stinging and hot, welled up in your eyes blurring the path ahead.
meanwhile, max had been drowning his frustration, not in champagne, but in self-recrimination. he replayed the race a thousand times in his mind, each time cringing at his recklessness. but most of all, he saw your tear-filled eyes, a sight that twisted his gut with regret. he had been so focused on his own disappointment, he hadn't seen the hurt etched in your face.
bursting out , he scanned the darkness, his heart pounding with a newfound urgency. he found you on a small bridge overlooking the track, the city lights twinkling below. you were facing away from him, your shoulders trembling with silent sobs.
he walked up slowly, his voice rough with remorse. "y/n," he called out.
you stiffened at the sound, but didn't turn. he stood beside you, a heavy silence settling between you both. finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, he confessed, "i was an idiot. i took a stupid risk and… and i scared you. seeing you cry… that hurt more than anything."
you still refused to meet his gaze. finally, a choked sob escaped your lips.
the sound tore through max's defenses. he closed the remaining space and took a cautious step closer. seeing the tear tracks staining your cheeks, the vulnerability etched on your face, a wave of regret washed over him. he knelt before you, his voice laced with remorse. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i didn't think it through. thinking of losing...it clouded my judgment."
slowly, you turned towards him. the anger that had burned bright in your eyes had softened, replaced by a deep hurt. "it scared me, max," you whispered. "the thought of losing you...of losing charles..."
max reached for your hand, his touch gentle. "i know," he murmured. "i never meant to put either of you at risk. especially you."
he held your gaze, and in his eyes, you saw a depth of emotion you hadn't witnessed before, an apology that went beyond words.
the road to forgiveness wouldn't be easy, but in that moment, a flicker of hope ignited. the roar of the engines outside might drown out some conversations, but the one between you and max had just begun. and for the first time since that reckless move on the track, a tiny corner of your heart dared to believe.
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bruisedboys · 5 months
Note
❛you got me flowers?❜ + ❛aw, did you miss me?❜ with tasm!peter maybe?
thank you for the request blair!!!!! xx
tasm!peter parker x gn!reader
Peter’s never really been very nimble. Even after becoming SpiderMan, he’s still a little bit of a clutz. He’s lanky and much taller than he thinks he is, so he’s always under-compensating for his size and walking into things.
He makes it through your bedroom window without incident, but then he trips over a book on the floor and can’t catch himself because his hands are full. He goes thudding into the carpet. There’s a pause, and then he hears the shower shut off.
“Hello?” Your voice echoes from the bathroom, much too frightened for Peter’s liking. Whoops.
“It’s me!” He calls out, scrambling to his feet and ditching his effort to surprise you. “It’s Peter, honey, I’m sorry.”
Another pause. Then, “Oh, okay. Just give me a minute!”
Peter’s happy to wait, though he’d go barging into the bathroom if it was up to him. He sits on the end of your bed and brings the bouquet of flowers he’s holding to his lap. It’s a little wilted from his fall, a few petals on the outermost layer crushed. He doesn’t have time to fix them before he hears the bathroom door open and your footsteps down the hall.
“Are you trying to rob me?” You’re saying, amusement clear in your soft voice. “You aren’t very stealthy, Peter.”
You appear in the doorway with a huge smile, a towel wrapped around your otherwise bare body and your skin all dewy and fresh. Peter feels instantly like you’ve put him under a spell.
“I wasn’t trying to rob you,” he argues. His head is swimming. Worse when you cross the room to stand in front of his knees with a sugar sweet smile. He looks up at you, starstruck. “I was trying to surprise you. There’s a difference.”
You raise your eyebrows. Peter’s eyes catch on your bare collarbones. They skip over the dip of your throat, your sternum, the sparkling diamonds of water that cling to your skin.
“Is there?” You ask, amused.
“Uh. Yeah,” Peter says dizzily. He’s completely forgotten what he was just talking about two seconds ago. You smell exquisite. Your skin is smooth and shiny with moisturiser. He might die and you’ll be the culprit. He blinks once, twice, thrice, but his head doesn’t show any signs of clearing.
You giggle at his inadequacy, a sweet, airy sound that has Peter’s heart doing somersaults.
“Aw, Pete,” you say, faking sympathy. You take his face in a soft hand, fingers pushing to the space beneath his ear. “Did you miss me?”
Peter blinks hard. Your fingers set his skin on fire. “What makes you think that?” He asks, aiming for accusatory but landing on clumsy and starstruck.
You burst into laughter. Peter knows very well that you’re laughing at him. He finds he doesn’t care, not when you lean over him and press a kiss to his forehead.
“You’re cute,” you tell him fondly.
Peter blushes all the way up to his ears. Thankfully, you’ve become distracted by the bouquet of flowers in his hands and you don’t notice his very intense blush. He wouldn’t mind if you did, actually. You might call him cute again.
“Oh!” You gasp softly, and lift your eyes to Peter’s. “You got me flowers?”
Peter nods. “Yeah,” he says. Finally, he’s managed to say something without embarrassing himself. “Do you like ‘em?”
You nod vehemently. “They’re lovely, Peter. Let me get dressed, okay? And then we can put them in some water together.”
You touch his cheek and then move away, leaving him in a dizzying cloud of sweetness. He can still smell your moisturiser, still feel the heat of your hand where you’d touched his face.
“Cool,” Peter says, his voice two notches too high. Not his smoothest moment.
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thatsdemko · 1 year
Text
just an incident - m.verstappen
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masterlist
requested: n
pairings: max verstappen x leclerc!fem!reader
warnings: hints of some friends to lovers trope + google translated French and Dutch + wrote this BEFORE the Monaco 2023 gp!
a/n: I cannot remember who it was that said most Dutch don’t use nicknames like “angel” or “baby” but I didn’t feel like changing the pet names so my apologies 😬 had a lil dream about this so enjoy xx
it really wasn’t supposed to happen. at least you didn’t want it to happen, but he most certainly did.
growing up he was your brothers biggest competitor and challenge. race tracks weren’t the same when max verstappen was on the circuit, and that was still true to this day. max became a menace and impossible to beat in that Red Bull, it made loving him in secret and supporting your brother in public harder.
because every race meant listening to that Dutch national anthem while your brother told off his team for the shit race. it meant spending long nights in the Ferrari garage rather than the ones in his hotel room celebrating his victory. loving max verstappen was not easy.
“mijn engel wat zit je dwars?” he asks, fingers gently brushing down the skin of your back. you’re sitting upright in his bed, pillow covering your chest as you scroll through the chain of text messages from your brothers. you could never have a peaceful evening alone without one of them calling or texting. my angel what's bothering you?
“mes frères.” you grumble tossing your phone into the pile of clothes on the ground before relaxing against his chest, “but I’m all yours now.” you press a kiss to his jawline, watching those beautiful green eyes close in contentment.
“why don’t you tell them about us? are you that worried?” his arm wraps around your shoulders allowing you to sink further against him. he knows Charles would have heart failure hearing his baby sister was more than just a friend with max, and it would give him all more of a reason to push him off the track or do risky overtakes. racing wouldn’t be the same for Charles or max, and maybe he hadn’t thought of that, but you certainly did.
“I’m more worried that I’d be stealing his boyfriend from him.” you joke watching the lines around his eyes crinkle, smile forming on his lips. you loved that smile dearly.
“we broke up a long time ago.”
“you go missing? been trying to call you for hours.” Lorenzo doesn’t even need to look up from his computer to know it’s you entering the house. just by the sound of your silent footsteps and nails tapping against your phone, he knew it couldn’t be anybody else.
especially since he began to pick up you were beginning to be late or no shows recently. you would push off family dinner for said alone time or show up to family game night a half an hour late. he wasn’t one to budge into your life and ask the questions, but seeing as things were drastically shifting he felt he needed in.
“what? no, just needed some extra sleep.” your lies weren’t getting any better, he knew the high pitch tone and small stutters were nothing but false words.
“you think to run a brush through your hair?” he scoffs seeing the snarls and tiny mats that you didn’t notice. you’re lucky your mother wasn’t home or else she’d have fainted at the sight.
“why are you in my business?” you ask making him finally look up from his laptop to see the purple faint bruises against your collarbone. there was no sleeping in for you, and he couldn’t help not fighting the smirk against his lips as he pulls the cup of coffee up to try and mask it.
“just go take a shower before Charles and Arthur come home, please?”
you listen to his request and find the warm water against your aching body and sensitive skin comforting. his nail marks at your hips were fresh, the pull in your groins were painful in the steam, and the purple bruises at your collarbone weren’t going to be easy to cover up. it was evident max wanted your family to know about him, whether you would actually drop his name was up to you.
the thick sweatshirt of Arthur’s that you stole covers what you wanted, and the baggy sweatpants you borrowed from max masked your shaking quads with each step. maybe you did miss being home, but you were missing that Dutch accent and being under the gaze is his big green eyes.
“when did you get back?” Arthur asks, head peaking into your room where he sees you tapping away on your phone, a little smile evident against your lips.
“this morning. how was work with Charles?” you turn around to see him moving in your room. Arthur was like your best friend, growing up one year apart, he was the closest thing you had sometimes, and lying to him about your relationship wasn’t easy.
“good, we ran into max.” even his name made your heart skip beats, you shifted uncomfortably against your bed trying to not make it obvious you were eager to hear how he was— despite having seen him only hours ago— or if he mentioned you.
“and?” you ask swallowing nervously, Arthur shifts against the doorframe with a shrug, “he’s alright, just prepping for Monaco.”
you let out a tiny sigh of relief nodding, “good for him I guess, I kind of hope he loses.” you lie biting your tongue and hear a laugh from Charles across the hall, “me too!” he calls out.
“you hope I lose? I heard that rumor by the way.” his voice startled you making you turn around to face him. he’s in his suit and tie, dressed his finest just like yourself. the expensive gala you were in was packed to the brim and you had lost all of your family members minutes ago when you spotted the Red Bull drivers appearance.
“you know I want you to win.” you move a little closer to him, his hand discreetly rests against your hip and he presses a friendly kiss to your cheek that you wish could be a little more than that in public.
“hoe gaat het met mijn meisje?” he leans into your ear, the soft whisper leaves a tingling sensation down your spine making your body curl closer to him. how’s my girl?
“il manque juste ta touche.” you reply, hand resting against his chest, nervously adjusting his crooked tie. you know people are staring and cameras are recording, but under his gaze you feel protected. those big hands and aggressive demeanor would go to war for you against anyone here. just missing your touch
he chuckles under his breath, “you have all of me, my love.” his lips press your temple quickly, before excusing himself to shake hands with Sergio Perez, his teammate.
you move out of the way when the cameras begin to flash and interviewers move in to ask questions to the Red Bull drivers. you find yourself watching from the sidelines beside Daniel, but his eyes always find you. a wink in your direction let’s you know he hasn’t lost sight.
“flirty with my man?” Daniel nudges your elbow gently, making you break your stare at the lady who’s getting to close to max for a picture.
“flirty? no, he was winking at you.” you laugh watching max pull Charles in for a photo with the two drivers. three of them smiling proudly for the cameras before Charles pulls away, a little dizzy from all the flashing.
“hm, I don’t recall him making sexy eyes at me in our contract.” daniel pushes you in the direction of max. now that the photos were done, you could tell he was looking for you, but of course Charles whisks him away before you both can close the gaps between each other.
“you think you’ll win in my circuit?” charles jokingly asks. pulling max out from the mass crowds of people, you were trailing behind the two of them pushing through bodies to join them.
max scoffs, “I can’t predict the outcome of this race, mate. we’ll just have to wait and see.” the Dutchman sees you push through a few people and he extends his hand to help you before you stumble into Carlos.
“yeah, well with my luck I’ll be last.”
“no Oscar and lando will make sure you aren’t.” max chuckles, the two make faces at each other before the tipsy giggles escape their lips. you wish all nights were like this, the two of them happy and not pinning each others successes for their failures.
“what will you do if you win?” you ask Charles stepping a little closer to their conversation watching him think. you look up at max who’s thinking through if he should put his hand against your back, maybe pull you closer to him.
“I don’t know yet. maybe take maman out to dinner? this is all hypothetical.”
max nods, hand finally resting against your lower back, “well if I win I think I’ll take a special someone out for dinner.” he pulls you closer to his chest, your arms unconsciously wrapping around his torso.
“oh? who is that?” charles asks, and it has yet to hit him. he’s clueless to Max’s hand resting on your ass, your arms around his torso, and his lips pressing into your hair. charles was clearly oblivious.
“me, idiot.” you scoff finally getting his attention, his eyes scan each part of your bodies and how close you were together. he looks lost, like a puppy trying to find home as the dogs finally connect with what’s in front of him.
“no! when did this happen?!”
“it was just an incident.” max shrugs, there was no other way to describe it. the pieces just fell into place and max verstappen somehow became the man you loved more than just in the dark, he was someone you were beginning to love in public.
“don’t use my words against me.”
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oceantornadoo · 5 months
Note
Imagine trying to get mafia!Simon to take you away on a vacation. He’s been so stressed lately, and you want to be a good wife, and get him away from it for a while.
It also doesn’t hurt that you want him completely alone, while not picking up on how he wants the exact same thing…😩😩😩
yummy. this has a smidgen of primal prey and exhibitionism with a small side of breeding kink
———————————————————————
“hi.” you sat down on the couch, taking advantage of a rare day where simon was home before dinner. you had been sleeping together (actually sleeping) since the incident, but every morning he’d leave at 6am with only a forehead kiss and you wouldn’t see him until that night, sneaking under the covers with you and falling asleep immediately. you wanted more, you wanted your husband, but unfortunately his work was keeping him extremely busy.
simon missed you so much it ached. today was a rare occasion and he was hoping to actually spend some time with you, maybe another kiss or two. he fucked his fist daily in his morning shower, thinking about you, but never had time for anything more. so when you looked at him slyly and mentioned “you know we never had a honeymoon…”, he is all over it, immediately telling his bosses he’ll be gone for a week and booking flights to territories far outside any mafia business.
which is how you ended up on one of those private islands in the caribbean, only you two and the ocean for miles and miles. you’ve decided you need to have your husband, all of him, and are finally comfortable enough to go all the way with him. it’s just a matter of making him see that…
“so if we’re all alone…” you say after breakfast the first day, taking in the sunlight and how your backyard connects to the beach. “and i don’t want tan lines…” simon’s eyes are on you, burning holes into the skimpy bikini you have on, mask halfway up his face from eating breakfast up. he’s taking in all your curves, bit of belly and some stretch marks, cataloging every piece that you’re allowing him to see. your hands track his movements sensually, sliding up from your waist to your neck, and ever so slowly, undoing the ties of your top. you hold them there for a second, reveling in the hunger in your husbands eyes. you untie the straps at the waist and the top falls, baring all of your tits to a man who might devour you right here, right now.
to cover the blush on your face, you turn around, working your bikini bottoms off, adding some sway into your hips. you bend over, fully naked, and hear something between a whine and a growl from behind you. you turn around again, baring all of you this time. if he can’t tell you want him by this, you might need to just jump on him. there’s a glint in his eyes, a reminder of ghost, the man who gets what he wants no matter what.
you’re running towards the beach, simon right behind you. he’s stripping off his shirt and mask as he goes, too caught up in the moment of care. your feet touch the ocean, stopping for a second to take in the salt in the air. that was your mistake.
simon grabs you from behind, marking you with bruises that will last for days. “thought you could run, wife? could tease me and leave?” you’re clawing at him, pretending to struggle while secretly loving it, loving this man who can catch on so well to what you want. “say red if you want me to stop.” he whispers and you nod. simon bites down on your shoulder and you gasp, the sensation so foreign. through the pain you find pleasure in being marked his, finally. he presses you against him, clad in only boxers, allowing you to feel how hard you make him. you try to run again, only moving because he lets you, making it so your torso is above the water.
simon is right there with you, standing in this ocean, captivated by you. “i’m glad we’re finally alone.” he says, stopping the scene from before so you know how much he wants you. “me too.” you reply, hands running up his torso you’ve felt in the dark but never seen. and finally your hands make it to his face, thumbs running over faded scars and bruises. you pull him in for a deep kiss, murmuring “thank you” in between kisses, grateful for this man showing you all of him. he picks you up, chest to chest, hand pulling your hair as waves gently hit you both from behind. simon is done with this, the teasing and the wanting, he just wants to take you.
so he’s running again towards the house, desperate to have you. he lays you out on the kitchen counter, a meal he’s waited weeks for. your kisses turn sloppy and he stops them, causing you to whine. “let me taste my wife, yeah?” and you nod. he makes his way down, licking your nipples, giving you slight bites when you try to tug him down more. next is your stomach, where he places reverent kisses so you know how much he loves it. finally he’s right there, licking the salt from the juncture of your thighs. your hand finds his hair and tugs it, so he tugs your nipple right back. “siii” you moan. he noses the outside of your clit, a sharp gasp bursting from your throat. “that’s what i thought.” he dives in, moving your legs over his shoulders, he starts slow, licking the remaining water from your folds. kitten licks, getting accustomed to the scent of you, his day old scruff scratching your thighs. he moves toward your hole, swirling his tongue around before finally plunging in. he’s sure to keep his nose against you clit as he tastes you, the squelching sounds increasing with every lick.
he moves his right hand from your thigh to your ass, thumb on your other hole, pausing to let you tell him off. when you don’t, he presses in slightly, just the tip of his thumb, giving you more pressure. he can tell you’re on the top of your orgasm, your walls sucking his tongue in as your whines get more desperate. he hums “come for me, lovie.” and there you are, walls clenching around nothing as he pays attention to your clit. he pushes his thumb in a bit more into your ass, prolonging your orgasm as you feel full and empty at the same time.
“simon, fuck.” you whimper at your husband between your thighs. he slowly removes himself, thumb out of you, as he gives you a slow smile, covered in your juices. he climbs forward to kiss you and just as he does, inserts two fingers into your aching cunt. you moan into his mouth, needing more. he knows. “what do you need, lovie?” simon smirks down at you, knowing you’re absolutely cockdrunk and he hasn’t even fucked you yet. “i need…” you lose your nerve, suddenly aware of being fully naked with the doors open. anyone could walk by your villa and see you spread out in front of your husband. like a switch, the thought turns you on.
“i need you to fuck me.” you say, gaining courage. he raises his eyebrows, surprised at his little wife finally saying what she wants. his dick has recovered from the ocean water so he drags down his boxers, letting you see it jut out against his stomach, leaking precum.
“need who to fuck you?” he asks, somehow climbing on the table, forearms braced against your head as his dick lays on your cunt, teasing your clit. “say it.” he growls, pinching your nipple because of your silence. you draw him in for a quick kiss, a moment of tenderness, letting him see the trust in your eyes. “need my husband to fuck his wife.” you reply, hand snaking down to pump his cock. he grunts, cock lengthening at your touch. he lays his hand on top of yours as you guide his cock to your entrance. he takes a second to read your clit with it, and while you’re gasping at the sensation, he slots it in.
you both moan at the contact, reveling in the feeling. his thumb finds your clit, swirling it as he works his way in, small strokes until you fully let him in. finally his hips are against yours, his face in the crook of your neck. “simon.” you cry, needing him to move. and he does, hips pumping into you as he rises up, one hand under your head to protect it as the other plays with your clit. you’re already on edge from his fingers, so when he changes the angle to hit your pubic bone, you’re there, walls spasming around his cock as he draws it in and out. “you feel so good, lovie. i want to make this longer but fuck.” your nails draw his hips in, letting him use you to reach his orgasm. you give him sloppy kisses, saliva dripping down to spread beneath your tits, showing him how much you want him to use you as you suck his tongue.
“come in me, si. want you to get me pregnant.” you both know you’re on birth control but that doesn’t matter in the moment. “waddling around, everyone’ll know how good you fuck your wife.” that’s it, simon’s cumming in you, white liquid seeping down your folds as your womb can’t contain all of it. you both leave his cock in you as he collapses into you, breathing hard. “want you to fuck me like that all the time, si.” you whisper, letting him know how much you liked that. “gonna be a good little wife for me? bend over anytime i want?”
“yes sir.”
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